The Top Gun's Return

'Do you? I mean, are you sure he's…I don't know…'

'Okay, let me think how to say this.' Rees put down his fork and pushed the plate aside, then leaned forward to command her eyes. 'Mrs. Bauer, what it sounds to me like, is that your husband might be looking for that strength I was talking about.'

'Do you think so?'

He nodded. 'I think what he's maybe doing is going to the source, trying to find out what it is that made him strong to begin with. Looking to find the extra stuff that's gonna get him through this.'

'The right stuff.' Jessie tried her best to smile though her face felt as if it might crack under the strain.

Rees beamed back. 'Exactly.'

When the lieutenant commander took her back to the guest house several hours later, a second car and driver were there waiting for them. Rees helped Jessie unload her shopping bags, then handed her the keys to the Ford.

'You're on your own,' he said, and laughed at her look of dismay. 'Hey, don't look like that, it's no different from driving in the states-it's not like they drive on the wrong side of the road. Just remember to convert miles to kilometers. It's a fairly straight shot back to the shopping center, in case you think of anything else you need. It'll be good practice for that trip you two are planning. You're gonna be the one driving, you know. In case you've forgotten, Lieutenant Bauer doesn't have a valid driver's license.'

'Oh Lord,' Jessie whispered.

* * *

Al Sharpe drove Tristan back to the guest house that evening, around the same time as before, after doing a drive-by of the parking area to check for signs of news media invasion. But it appeared the Defense Department's stalling and diversionary press releases were having the desired effect.

It does feel easier this time, Tris thought as he made his way to the door. But still awkward, like the second time out with someone he'd met on a blind date. Like now things might start to get complicated.

And then he saw Jess coming toward him through the lobby, and he felt a bubble of forgotten pleasure burst somewhere inside him and pour warmth all through his chest that felt like a gulp of brandy on a cold day.

'Hey,' she said, in that eager way he remembered so well.

'Hey,' he said back to her, and she walked into his arms, and for a few aching moments it felt completely right again. She was the wife he remembered, and her body fit his in familiar ways, soft where it needed to be in spite of that long-boned angularity that had always particularly excited him. She was Jess, and against all odds, the same.

But then something, the fresh clean sunshiney smell of her hair, maybe, reminded him of where he'd been, and how much he was not the same Tristan she remembered, and he felt a coldness come over him and the darkness that was never far away creep back around his heart.

After too brief a time he put her away from him, and catching one of her hands, he brought it to his lips in mute apology. He held on to it while they walked through the guest house public rooms and out the back door, exchanging 'How are you?'s and 'How was your day?'s, hoping that would be enough to make up for his stiffness. He was so conscious of the feel of her hand, its shape and texture, warmth and moisture, every minute flaw and roughness in her skin, the fragile strength of bones and supple strength of muscles, that he could barely keep his mind on what she was saying to him.

They walked outdoors again, dodging bicyclists and joggers and dog walkers in the cool April evening while she told him about the shopping she'd done for him, and what Sammi June had said when she'd heard about that. When he started to tell her how bad he felt for not having called his daughter yet, Jess brushed his apology aside.

'Sammi June understands,' she said, lifting her head with a little shake so her hair ruffled, then sort of resettled just behind her shoulders. 'She's not a child. In fact, she's pretty well grown-up for eighteen-kind of like her momma was,' she added with a sideways look and a tentative smile.

Tristan gave a dry snort of laughter. 'I think that's what worries me-that I'm not gonna know what to say to her. I don't think I know how to be the father of a grown-up woman.'

She threw him another look and said quietly, 'It's not any easier for her, you know. As a grown-up woman, she doesn't know how to have a daddy, either.' She walked on beside him for several more steps, head down. 'But,' she said, then paused and took a deep breath before finishing in a brave rush, 'you are, and she does, and…well, dammit, the two of you are just gonna have to work it out between you…somehow.'

I shouldn't have said that, Jessie thought, when he didn't answer but just walked on, with his head slightly tilted as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Definitely not as patient and understanding as I ought to have been.

She was about to apologize when Tris's hand tightened around hers and he pulled her off the path. With newly sprouting grass underfoot and big old trees looming like protective uncles beside them, he turned and drew her around to face him. 'You're right,' he said, his voice husky. 'I'm behaving like a damn coward. I'll call her tonight. As soon as we get back to the room. I promise.' He brought her hand to his lips-something he'd been doing a lot, she noticed. But…never more than that. He still hadn't kissed her. 'Okay?'

Her throat tightened as she nodded. She tried, but couldn't stop herself from saying, 'She's changed, Tris. From what you remember. Of course she has. We all have. I have. Even though you say I haven't, that's just not true.' Her voice broke just a little. 'There's nothing we can do about that. It just…is.'

'I know that.' He studied her intently, and with her heart pounding so it was a moment or two before she realized his thumb was rubbing back and forth over her fingers-specifically, the third finger. He'd been holding her left hand, and the place he kept rubbing was the place where she'd once worn a wedding ring.

She turned her hand so she could see it, remembering clearly the day she'd taken off her wedding ring and put it away in her jewelry box. Remembering how she'd ached inside, and how for a long time she stared dry-eyed at the little blue velvet box and willed the tears to come, hoping they'd give her some kind of relief. 'It's at home,' she said, aching the same way now. 'I put it away. I was in New York when I found out you were alive. I flew straight here-I didn't have a chance-'

She halted then, because he was making a soft shushing sound. He'd enfolded her hand in both of his and was still holding it close to his lips. Above their hands, his eyes were closed, and she could see little knots of tension in his forehead and across his cheekbones. His face seemed tight and dark and closed, and she thought how different it was from the face she remembered…all warmth and charm, with an easygoing grin and laughing eyes.

Jolted, she shifted her gaze away from his face and found herself staring at his hands instead. But there was nothing familiar about them, either. They were a stranger's hands-bony and big-knuckled, striped with ropy tendons and irregular scars. Unbidden, the memories from the night before came rushing into her mind and collided with the image before her eyes, and suddenly she was imagining-no, feeling-those hard, alien hands touching her in the most intimate ways. Forgotten yearnings flooded her body with heat and she shuddered in spite of it, the way coming to a roaring fire when she was chilled clear through could sometimes make her shiver.

'That's okay. I think I'd like to be the one to put it back on you, anyway.' He cleared his throat. 'Maybe I ought to buy you a new one. Something better.'

'The old one's just fine,' Jessie said, giving her hand an indignant tug. Tristan laughed as he reclaimed it and they started back toward the guest house, their clasped hands swinging gently between them.

'Oh-we have a car,' Jessie said as they were weaving their way through the clutter of tables on the patio, Tris maneuvering awkwardly with his cane. She told him about the Ford, and what Lieutenant Commander Rees had said about her being the one who'd be doing the driving.

'Oh Lord,' he said, and Jessie burst out laughing.

'That's what I said.' He was holding the door for her, and she arched her eyebrows teasingly as she passed him. 'You gonna be able to handle that?'

Her driving style always had just about driven Tris crazy, which was why he'd always done the driving whenever they'd gone anywhere together. Driving herself had been one of the things she'd had to get used to doing every time her husband was sent away-and cheerfully given up again when he came home. It was just one of the realities of being a military wife, of course, learning to be completely self-sufficient during her husband's