They let him go.

It didn't make sense. He was sure there was a catch somewhere. But for right now he was free.

He stood in the airport waiting for his flight to be called. It had been 27 months since he had been on a flight unescorted. 27 months since a flight that didn't mean him doing the CIA's dirty work. James had never been a fan of flying but he could feel a thrum of excitement go through him for this one.

"Flight 263 to Phoenix is now boarding."

He didn't move right away. He wanted to see who else was on the flight. It was a habit he'd had for years. So he hung back until the last person in the waiting area boarded. Then he did the same. He smiled at the Flight Attendant. He found his seat and sat down. When the older woman next to him asked if he could turn her overhead light on he did. And through every action ran a thrill of anticipation.

The flight wasn't long but it felt like it. He always felt more on edge when he was on a plane. And after his time with the CIA confined places bothered him in a way they hadn't before. But he didn't think about that. Instead he let his mind go to what he would do when the flight landed.

The CIA had put a hold on his finances while he was in their custody, but he had been assured that they would be released by the time he got to Arizona. His first task would be to pick up his car from long-term parking. Then he'd go to a bank. Whatever Devon said he wanted to check his accounts personally. And after that… He was going home.

He didn't know what he expected.

Maybe he thought that she'd still be there. He had signed over the deed to her. But he had known underneath the hope that she'd be gone. He didn't blame her. Phoenix didn't have the best memories for her. But still it felt strange to be back here and not have her there too. The feeling would fade. He'd get used to the silence again soon.

He made his through the house and checked all the rooms. Everything was the same as it had been before she had gotten there. Everything except the master suite. He had let her sleep there- had moved his things to another bedroom. But now his clothes hung in the master closet. It was right and wrong at the same time.

Grabbing a clean change of clothes he went to the bathroom. Flying always made him feel dirty. He had never analyzed it before but it probably had to do with so many people in such close confines. So he turned on the hot water and stripped. Hot water had been lacking at the CIA compound. The water pressure had been nearly non-existent as well. He had almost forgotten what a real shower was supposed to feel like.

But he didn't enjoy it for long. Years later and his time in the military still had him taken 15 minute showers. Old habits… He got out and dried off. Dressing quickly he went out to the kitchen. There wouldn't be any food. It was late and he didn't want to go out, but he wasn't ready to have strangers on his property- not even a delivery guy. So he decided to skip dinner. He could go out and get breakfast in the morning and then he'd go grocery shopping.

Heading to his office he remembered that he didn't have a phone. The CIA had confiscated his and they never returned it. He wasn't worried about it, though. He had a couple of prepaid phones in a safe in his office. One of them would work.

There was no one he needed to call that night, but he still felt better once the service was connected.

He came home and his lights were on.

It was the first time he had come home after dark in the two week since he'd been back. For a moment he thought that he had forgotten to turn them off. But it had been sunny that day and so he had never turned the lights on. He killed the engine and got out of his SUV. He made sure that his gun was loaded.

But the closer he got to the house to the stranger things became. People were inside decorating his house. White string lights were in the windows. And he could see a tree in the living room. Two people were on ladders wrapping lights and garland around the tree. His mind told him that Kim had looked up the address he had sent her after he split from Camila. She was the only person he could think of who would come to his house unannounced and decorate it.

Then he saw her.

Her brown curls brushed the shoulders of her white suit. Her hands were outstretched directing someone in moving something he couldn't see. She was barefoot, like she had just kicked her shoes off and gotten to work. She looked beautiful.

He tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and walked to the front door. For a moment he hesitated. It felt like he should knock. It felt like he was invading her home. And in a way he was. But the moment passed and he put the key in the lock and opened the door. He let the door close gently behind him. Then he took in the sight before him. The stairs were lines with white Christmas lights. The table by the door held a white china nativity. He wasn't religious but he liked the traditional look.

From the door the Christmas tree was the focal point of the room. A white satin tree skirt covered the base of the tree. Gold and white ornaments were being hung. The coffee table held a sculpture of two prancing reindeer. It was nice- simple and elegant, like the woman who had organized it.

He stepped into the living room. Teresa's back was to him but the person she was talking to pointed in his direction. James' breath caught when she turned around. Her eyes went wide with surprise when she saw him. Then she was smiling and he swore he had never seen anything so perfect. He noticed the workers exiting the room and the sliding door closing behind the last person. But his eyes never left the woman in front of him.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

Her voice was so soft. He had missed it while he'd been with the CIA. He smiled at her. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to break whatever this thing was between them. But she didn't seem to mind. She stepped towards him. He mirrored her action.

"Is it alright that I'm here?"

He nodded. He would never complain about seeing her- especially when he could see her this way. She looked free. She looked like she was home. This time he took a step towards her. She did the same.

He could reach out and touch her. He wanted to. But things were complicated. He had left. She had moved on. Whatever this was didn't change that. And he didn't expect her to just fall back into his arms. That had never been Teresa's style. She had always been careful about what they could be to each other.

But then she reached out. Her hand took his and she gave it the smallest squeeze. But it was enough.

His arms wrapped around her waist while he hands slid into his hair. He paused for a moment just looking at her- just holding her. It had been 27 months since he had last held her. And he wanted to remember this moment. He wanted to remember this feeling.

Then slowly he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.

She opened for him immediately. His mind fractured a little bit from the rush of having her like this again. She tasted the same- better- than he remembered. He pulled her closer and let one hand slide into her curls. She tightened her grip on him, until there was no space between them.

She pulled away to catch her breath and it reminded James that he should do the same. He had been so wrapped up in her that he had forgotten his need for air. He let his eyes trace over her face. He took in the way her cheeks had spots of color to them. He noticed the way her lips were curled up in a soft smile. He noted the way her eyes seemed to have hold a tender kind of warmth within them.

She was beautiful.

"I missed you, James."

He cupped her face in his hands and brought his forehead to rest against hers.

"I missed you too, Teresa."

Then she was taking his hand and leading him upstairs.

She was curled against him, finger drawing shapes on his skin.

His hand held her to him, thumb brushing along her neck.

Their eyes were on each other.

"Merry Christmas, James."

He pressed a kiss to her smiling lips- loved that he could.

"Merry Christmas, Teresa."