He'd forgotten how much he'd really missed her.

It wasn't just having Elena near to touch, or make love with, or go to when he needed help; he missed her being here, with him—making toast in the mornings and greeting him with a quiet smile, or tapping away on her laptop and frowning critically at the article she was working on, or snaking a hand around his waist and drawing him in while they were watching TV. Researching Drake hadn't filled the hole in his chest, but it had made it easier to forget she wasn't there anymore; forget why his old room in Sully's place was silent and empty.

And now she was curled up on Sully's ugly old corduroy couch, book resting in her lap and head down, eyes closed. She looked peaceful and content, something that he hadn't seen from her even in the last few months they'd been together before… well, before he'd left.

That's done with now, he reminded himself. They were rebuilding, forgiving, moving forward. And it was going well. He was happier every day they were together, and he liked—hoped—to think she was, too.

Nate walked up to where she was napping and frowned at the angle of her head. She'd wake up with a sore neck or a headache if she stayed like that, and she got enough of them already from writing. He picked the book off her lap and set it carefully on the table. Then he slipped one arm under her legs, the other going around her shoulders to pick her up and settle her more comfortably on the sofa.

She mumbled at the movement, and he quieted her with a kiss to her head. "It's okay, Elena. I'm just moving you." He tightened his hold on her shoulders and hoisted her up, and she was more than content to snuggle into his chest and go back to sleep.

He moved to stand up when his hand slipped and he lost her grip on her legs. He stumbled forward to try and correct his balance and regain his hold on her. It didn't work; they both went tumbling down into the couch, and he braced an arm on the spine of the sofa to stop himself from landing completely on top her. He let out a yelp in surprise, and heard an answering groan from Elena as they toppled down into the cushions.

Sully was halfway done with cleaning out the fridge of leftovers he'd forgotten to throw out before heading to Yemen when he heard a yell from Nate in the living room, and turned towards the door to listen, freezing in place.

Normally he'd ignore the noise—ever since Elena had come back, the pair of them had been making a god awful amount of racket. He was overjoyed they were back together, but they really needed to hurry up with getting their own place. Or install padded walls in Nate's room.

However, this one sounded decidedly unbiblical, so he set down the foul-smelling disposable container of chicken fried rice on the counter and poked his head into the living room.

He could only see Nate's head and shoulders peeking up from over the back of the couch, but Elena's sleepy voice carried easily across the room. "Nate, what the hell…"

"I—sorry, I was trying—"

"To squish me?" Elena's hand appeared on the cushions as she tried to prop herself up, and Nate moved away from his position on top of her.

"Actually, you were sleeping weird, so I just—tried to move you, make you more comfortable. And I uh, lost my grip."

Elena laughed and rubbed at her face. "Oh. Well, thanks. I think."

"It was pretty chivalrous," Nate added, and pulled her in to rest her head on his shoulder. "Minus the falling part."

"My knight in shining armour," Elena sighed as she curled into his side, looking up at him dramatically. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Have an eternally sore neck from writing and sleeping."

"Mm," she hummed, and pressed her face into his neck. "You do give pretty good massages."

"Is that a hint I'm supposed to take?"

Elena laughed and kissed him. "Why yes, Sir Knight. It is."

Nate pushed her down into the cushions and Sully lost sight of them, but could hear giggling and murmuring from the living room, and ducked back into the kitchen, smiling to himself.

Been awhile since he'd seen Nate this happy. They'd been separated long before the kid had actually shown up on his doorstep with an overnight bag and a tipsy grimace. The laughing and the cuddling had stopped a couple months before that—leaving had just been the finishing act.

And while he could get sick of their love-struck-teenagers act at times, Nate had managed to pull his head out of ass long enough to see the mistakes he'd made, and Elena had been willing to come back and repair the damage they'd both done to one another. Sully would take sleepless nights of listening to the two of them work through their second honeymoon phase over stark silence any day.

Then he heard some suspicious sounds coming from the living room and sighed. "Don't have sex on my goddamn couch!" he called, but the bark had no bite.

More laughter carried into the kitchen, and he couldn't help the grin curling his mouth.

Yeah, he wouldn't trade this for anything.