My escort, Captain Iriguchi, gives me a worried look as the airplane circles above Andrews, waiting for final clearance to land. When the military said that they were sending me back first class, I didn't quite understand what they meant. I thought I'd have a first class seat on a United flight from Seoul or something.

No. Instead, apparently I rate VIP service, sitting in the Corinthian leather seats of the modified Boeing 757 that the Air Force sometimes calls Air Force One. I checked with the crew, they've only built eight of these things, and all I can say is that I doubt there are too many five star hotels that have better facilities.

Not that I've used much of it. Just having the ability to walk around and stretch, enjoy what I want to drink, eat and do whenever I want to has been a luxury beyond understanding. I spent six months pissing in a bucket and wiping my ass with a rag that would be reused for an entire day, while for the last fourteen hours I've been enjoying a toilet that has a built in spray that washes your butt when you're done.

Now though, the ride's about done, and Captain Iriguchi's worried. She's dressed in civvies, a nondescript black suit, but I've put on my dress blues, or at least a set that the uniform shop in Korea quickly put together for me and I put on for only the second time twenty minutes ago. No way in hell am I putting on my old one, I stepped on the scale today down an even fifty pounds from my last weigh in before captivity. Guess I don't have to worry about passing my height/weight check for the foreseeable future.

“The press is probably going to be there,” Captain Iriguchi says, looking over the clipboard in her lap. She's petite, and I think she was worried at first that I'd react badly to her since she's half-Japanese, and right now Asian women are not exactly having a great track record with me. But we relaxed somewhere between Japan and Hawaii, and she's okay by me. Part of it is that she's got a Boston accent of all things, which helps, but also she's laid back. She even insisted that I don't call her ma'am, but instead likes to be called Kayla, which is cool too. “Are you okay with that?”

“If you mean do I care if a bunch of press hounds snap photos, not a problem at all,” I tell her, trying to control my demanding side. The hospital shrink in Seoul, in the one session we had together, told me that for a while I might be extra demanding at times, as a way of what he calls 'establishing my sense of safety.' Conversely, there'll be times that I'll be acting like a puppy dog, eager to please. The conditioning will take a while to shake off.

“They'll want to ask questions, you know. The Pentagon screened who they're letting in, but the media there are going to want a quote,” she says nervously. “If you don't think you can handle it, say so.”

“Pentagon and White House are worried I'm going to come off looking shattered?” I ask wryly, and Iriguchi nods. “Chill, Kayla. As long as none of the media gets in the way of me seeing Ashley, they can get a quote. They get in the way though, and you might see me kicking someone's ass on the nightly news.”

Iriguchi chuckles and nods. “Not a problem. Nobody other than Ashley Carlyle is allowed within fifty meters of the steps once we land. Orders of the President himself.”

I shake my head, still trying to wrap my head around it. “Why? I'm no hero, Kayla. I'm just a guy who got his helicopter crashed, my crewmate dead, and sat in a cell for six months.”

Iriguchi shakes her head, and bites her lip, pondering. “Would you like my opinion on it, Simon?”

“Go ahead. I'm willing to listen, we've still got some time before we land. I'm guessing the Public Affairs folks are the main reason we haven't landed yet, right?” I ask, leaning back into my seat, leaving my coat unbuttoned. “Not digging on your job at all, by the way.”

“Nope, the Dog and Pony Show must always go on,” Iriguchi says with a self deprecating laugh. “Anyway, you're a hero for a couple of reasons. They didn't tell you in Seoul, maybe my boss would get pissed if I tell you now, but your chopper was sabotaged. They wanted your specific Apache, to go down when it could cross the border. I've heard rumors, but that's your business with the Pentagon later on. So you didn't screw up, Simon. You also survived, and fought back. Regardless of if you said things to survive, you never betrayed your oath or your country. You got your own ass out of there, and you did the damn near impossible, crossing the DMZ without getting yourself killed.”

“Nearly did, though. Damn snakes. I don't think I like them any more.”

Iriguchi understands, and folds her hands in her lap. “Simon, I've only been doing Public Affairs and stuff like this for about two years now. I've participated in quite a few events where VIPs got on a microphone or made a speech talking about the heroic troops around them. To be quite honest, a lot of it was bullshit. But you, you not only got put into a horrible situation, you fought like hell. Not for the flag, not for the service, not for the United States of America. In the fourteen hours we've been sitting on this plane, other than sleeping you've talked mostly about one thing. Ashley Carlyle. I probably know more about her than I do half the soldiers who work for me. And as a woman, I can tell you I'm just a little jealous that she has someone so devoted to her. So maybe you're not the hero that the White House and the Pentagon want to make you out to be. You're not Rambo, Simon. But in Kayla Iriguchi's opinion, you're something better. You're Ashley's hero, and in this world, there aren't too many people who are that damn noble. Let the Pentagon spin the way they want, you just focus on who really matters.”

Before I can say anything, the pilot comes on and says that we've gotten clearance for landing, we'll be on the ground in five minutes. I check my seatbelt, and lean back, closing my eyes as I feel us turn and start to descend. “Kayla?”

“Yes, Simon?”

“Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.”

It's closer to fifteen minutes before the plane stops. The nerves are getting to me, and my fingers tremble as I try to button my uniform coat twice before I get it right. Glancing out, I can see the honor guard, dressed in their razor sharp dress blues.

“Where's Ashley?” I ask worriedly, and Iriguchi looks out the window. “I can't see her yet.”

Iriguchi studies the crowd, then points. “There. Looks like they kept her in the hangar until the plane stopped, probably for the heat. It looks cold out there.”

I look where she's pointing, and see Ashley coming out, huge and beautiful, the sight of her relieving all of my tension of a moment before. She's trying to walk gracefully, but it's more like a waddle, and I don't care. Excitement and energy fills me, making me run up the aisle to the door, hopping back and forth as I wait for the crew to open the door. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“Simon, relax. She's still got a while to go,” Iriguchi says, patting me on the shoulder. “On the tarmac, I'll split off for a bit, go to the press conference site. I won't be speaking, but until we get you settled in, I'll be nearby. Congratulations, Lieutenant, you've got a Captain to boss around a while.”

I stop, and give Iriguchi a grateful look. “Thanks, Kayla. So, after this, do I have to call you ma'am again?”

“Only when I'm in uniform and others are around. Other than that, relax. Wait, here comes the crew.”

The plane's crew opens the door, and I'm hustling down the steps. My eyes are totally on Ashley, who stops, the tears on her face clear even as I run across the tarmac, stopping just in time to not tackle her to the pavement and hug her, kissing her deeply and holding her close. I finally feel like I'm free again.

* * *

“They want to pin a medal on you,” Ashley comments as we watch the NFL wildcard playoffs, lying side by side on her bed. She has to go back to school tomorrow, they gave her three days leave with my return. The room in the Fort Lee Lodge isn't quite big enough for two people, but after one night of restless, freaked out sleep in my own adjacent room next door, I'm just using it as a storage closet, and we've adjusted. “What do you think about it?”

“Only if they give the same medal to Chief Jensen,” I reply, not concerned as the action unfolds on the TV. I'm going to get back to work too tomorrow, after a hospital checkup I'm going to go to the Fitness Center. I may need to gain back fifty pounds, but I'm going to do it the right way. “Let them get their fifteen minutes of good press out of it, I don't really care. I have what I need right here.”

“Free food and a warm bed?” Ashley teases, and I laugh. She's been hesitant about making any sort of jokes, but she's starting to relax into her normal self again, which helps me more than she can ever understand.

“Something like that. The Internet's nice too. By the way, we promised to call Cara and Tammy again tonight,” I answer, humming happily as I hug Ashley, running my hand over her belly before I lower my lips and kiss her neck.

She purrs, arching her neck into me and giving me a whiff of her clean, natural scent, my body stirring in a way that I thought maybe was gone for a while longer. But Ashley has always had this effect on me, and I guess I still have an effect on her, too. “I've missed those kisses.”

“I don't ever want us to be apart again,” I murmur, tracing her arm with my fingers. “Actually, I had a question I wanted to ask you after you got to Korea, but I've had some time to think about it some more, and I don't want to wait any more.”

Ashley shifts, laying on her back in bed and looking at me questioningly. “If this is about family housing, my answer was going to be yes. That's kind of up in the air now.”

“True... so I had another one,” I say, climbing off the bed and getting on my knees next to her. “I was hoping... Ashley, would you marry me?”