This started out as an introspective look into Nancy – I thought that she still cared about John in the episode Outcast. So this is my take on a few years later – It could technically still be considered canon because it's set after the last episode. I guess I'm a romantic, thinking that maybe John and Nancy still cared about each other.

Also, I had intended this to be a one shot, but I can see that it could be more – but I guess that will depend on what people think about it.

Your reviews and thoughts are welcome.

Lady Winter


Nancy Allen sat heavily on the bench she'd found on The Mall in the center of Washington D.C. It was only a few blocks from her office at Homeland Security, and she often came during lunch to sit at the reflecting pool or she would wander to the Lincoln Memorial, just to get a breath of fresh air and some perspective.

Sometimes her job as Director was beyond stressful, and having a few minutes to herself was almost intoxicating. Actually getting the chance to take a lunch break came few and far between, so she soaked up those moments. Especially on days like today.

She had actually just come from her lawyer's office. It wasn't the best day she'd ever had – but she supposed that no one who'd ever been divorced had a good day when they signed those final papers.

Nancy sighed outwardly. Two failed marriages. What was worse was that Grant had left her for the same reasons she had left her first husband, John Sheppard. Work. Too much work. And too much secrecy. Granted, it had been slightly different with John. She couldn't take the stress of him being out of contact and in danger that he could never tell her about, having to come and go so unexpectedly without any warning. Grant had no idea how much better he had it – Nancy always answered her phone at least. Still, that apparently wasn't enough to make up for the ridiculously long hours that she was putting in at the office.

It was hard to admit, but part of her knew that she had sabotaged the relationship on purpose. She had loved Grant – yes. But she had realized over time that it was fleeting and pale in comparison to the feelings she'd had for another – and even her marriage to John didn't last with that much love and passion.

So there Nancy sat in the warm afternoon sun, still feeling cold to her core, trying to forget and trying not to feel guilty. It wasn't easy.

She huffed out a sigh and glanced around, wishing for a distraction. It came in an unexpected form – two young boys, racing by her, parents calling after them in annoyance. Nancy watched them tear by, heading for a hot dog vendor further down the path. It sparked an unexpected yearning for a hot dog. She hadn't eaten a hot dog from a street vendor since she'd been with John. These days it was fancy salads, Portobello mushroom sandwiches and organic chicken.

Nancy glanced around, unable to shake the longing and spotted the recognizable red and yellow blocked umbrella that represented a hot dog stand where the little family was now gathered.

Standing stiffly, she smoothed her pencil skirt, straightened her tailored suit jacket and started towards it, her heels clicking rhythmically on the concrete as she walked. Nancy was just about fifty feet away when she slowed her pace a little, at first not to appear so eager to eat street food, but then because she spotted something that wasn't entirely out of place on the Mall, but still interesting enough.

Standing near the hotdog stand were two Air Force officers, in their dress blues, and from the distance she could see that they were both heavily decorated, and that one, with gold epulates was a general. But what really caught her attention was the stance of the slightly shorter officer. Despite being so formally dressed, he was slouched ever so slightly, hands dug deep into his pockets, hat tipped just enough to not be properly regulation. And he looked comfortable in a way that no officer ever looked in his dress blues.

Nancy stopped in her tracks, almost causing the power-walker behind her to smash into her. As it was, the woman swore at her loudly, but moved past, arms pumping and muttering about bimbos.

Nancy didn't care. She knew she would recognize that easy, comfortable stance anywhere. It was John. Her John. Her…ex-John.

What in the world was he doing there, in Washington? And what was he doing with a Brigadier General?

She'd last seen John a little more than two years ago, right there in Washington. Just a few days before that, she'd gone to his father's funeral, partly out of respect for Patrick Sheppard, because even after the divorce, he had always been kind to her, and partly because she was desperately hoping to see John. Looking back on it now, she knew she was crazy to have done something like that. Grant had been really unhappy with the situation and even Nancy had to admit that her intentions were less than honorable.

That was the problem with John Sheppard. Despite the fact that they had divorced, it hadn't been because they hadn't loved each other. Of course, it had been very complicated. John had loved his job almost as much as he'd loved Nancy – and he had finally found something in his life that he was not only good at, but that had real purpose, something she knew he'd been searching for. She didn't begrudge him that, but she couldn't handle the waiting and the worrying. Just before they had signed the final papers, John had asked her if she would stay with him if he asked to be reassigned – to come back stateside and work at Peterson, or maybe at the Academy. Nancy had been sorely tempted to say yes, but she knew that it would kill him, and he wouldn't be the man she loved. The consequences of both of their actions were just too great, so she'd let him go – but she'd never stopped loving him.

That fact had really irritated her. She had been so angry with John – for neglecting their marriage, for not knowing how to make it work. So she had buried that love under as many layers of anger as she could.

It took all of that to convince herself that she no longer loved John Sheppard. And then she'd met Grant and thought that she'd fallen head over heels for him. What wasn't to love about him? He was good looking, smart, and grounded. He had a successful job in law that he was serious about, but loved to take her on trips and spoil her. He was stable. John couldn't give her stable. So, she'd married him, but soon enough she realized that she'd rushed things. But that was all water under the bridge now.

She had known the minute that she'd wore her favorite black dress to Patrick's funeral that she was no longer in love with Grant. Why else would she be so careful to make sure to look good on the off chance that her ex-husband, who was estranged from his family, would miraculously appear at his father's funeral? She knew full well that he and Patrick hadn't been on speaking terms and that neither Patrick or David had been able to get any information on his whereabouts in several years.

Still, she had gone, saw him and his large, imposing friend and had been left feeling unfulfilled. As usual, their conversation had been stilted and uncomfortable, but she could see the pain and confusion in his eyes, and felt pity for him. She remembered the nights she had listened as he'd poured his heart out about disappointing his father and being all but disowned. Still, John never made anything easy for her. And then he'd shown up in Washington, asking for her help.

At first, Nancy had been furious that he would dare come to her after being gone for so long – and then, to have the nerve to ask her to risk her job… It seemed too much

She couldn't help herself and had to get her digs in at him when he'd met her, but he took it like he always did, with an apologetic smile and a sincerity that never ceased to take her breath away, and she had helped him, just like he'd known she would. She felt like putty in his hands, but was powerless to change that.

She'd found what he was looking for easily enough, but realized right away that he was taking a huge risk and she couldn't help but do a little digging on John himself. What she found hadn't really surprised her – whatever it was that John was involved in, it was deep, it was dark, and it was dangerous – and he seemed to be right at the heart of it. It had unexpectedly chilled her to the bone

She'd met him, feeling like she was sneaking off to meet a lover, and couldn't help but imply that she was worried about him. The moment in the car had been so poignant. He'd sat there and tried to casually brush her concern away.

"You know me," he'd said, looking tired and emotionally spent, but tried to lighten the mood.

Nancy couldn't help it. She told him that was exactly what the problem was – just how well she knew him.

And then he was gone without a trace again, disappearing into whatever curtain of silence that was covering him.

But the day after, she'd arrived at her office to find a gift basket waiting for her. It was full of all her favorite things – Godiva Chocolates, an off brand of hot-cocoa that Grant probably didn't even know existed, a box of Girl Scout cookies – Thin Mints (where had he gotten those this time of year? It wasn't the season!), several Cadbury Eggs (again, not the season), a bottle of New York Finger Lakes Champagne, a bottle of red wine from her favorite Napa Valley winery, and tickets to the ballet, nestled along with a dozen red calla lilies. She had sat at her desk and cried, clutching the tiny note that simply read 'Thank you' in John's strangely precise scrawl.

She didn't dare bring it home – she didn't want to fight with Grant. Before she'd gone to the funeral, he'd already suggested that he thought she still kindled a flame for her ex-husband – an accusation that she'd violently disagreed with. Looking back, she'd seen Grant shake his head and mouth the words 'Me thinks that thou doest protest too much.'

And then there was nothing. Nancy had assumed that being a Director at Homeland Security would get her somewhere with top secret information – after all, that was why John had come to her – but anything regarding her ex-husband was locked up so tight that she realized looking too hard would put her on a terrorist watch list – and that would just be embarrassing.

So, Nancy had settled for asking Dave to keep her updated. Apparently John had visited his older brother after whatever he'd been working on had finished up, and before disappearing into the wild blue yonder again.

Nancy had been surprised the day Dave had called to tell her about the awkward yet rewarding visit that the two brothers had had. Thing still weren't entirely better, but they had cleared the air about a lot of things, and although John was unable to tell Dave anything about what he was doing, he'd promised to communicate as often as his difficult posting allowed.

Dave had been surprised when Nancy had asked, very hesitantly, if he would be willing to share when John communicated and she remembered him asking suspiciously if everything between she and Grant was alright. Airily, she'd assured him that she and Grant were just marvelous – and David had accepted the lie as gracefully as any Sheppard did.

But he had been true to his word and would email her when he heard from John, sometimes forwarding on his brother's emails, and sometimes just giving her snippets. And he would email when he was worried. When he didn't hear from John. It happened more than either Dave or Nancy liked. Together, they commiserated over a man that both of them had lost and wished to regain, and Dave had been the first person Nancy had told about her impending divorce with Grant. He hadn't seemed surprised, but was graceful enough to offer his apologies and support.

Recently, she hadn't heard anything from Dave, not in a few weeks at least. She thought for sure that if John was coming home, Dave would have told her, and for a moment, she grew angry, seeing John there, just yards away, wondering if he could be so cold as to have not told his only brother that he had surfaced from wherever it was that he was hiding all the time. Then she grew worried. What if Dave hadn't told her because he didn't think she needed John's kind of trouble? Or that John didn't need her kind of trouble?

After all, why would John want to see his ex-wife?

Nancy couldn't help but wonder that as she stood there in the middle of the path as the two officers ate their hot dogs and shared a laugh about something. The general reach out and patted John on the shoulder in the way a father would a son that he was proud of and then reached out to shake John's hand. John seemed slightly embarrassed by the attention, but smiled at the General, and then stepped back a foot or so and sharply saluted the man. When the general returned the salute, he turned just enough that Nancy caught sight of his face.

She knew him instantly. General Jack O'Neill. Everyone one knew General O'Neill – he was as well respected as he was difficult when it came to supporting his command and his men. Nancy had met him once at a Statehouse dinner and had been more than impressed with his sarcastic wit and his easy going demeanor.

She couldn't help but wonder how he knew John – especially considering that they seemed friendly enough, with an air of comfortable familiarity.

As she wondered, General O'Neill shook John's hand goodbye and headed off in the opposite direction, leaving John to wander towards the reflecting pool, one hand still stuffed in his pocket, as he lifted his right hand to check his watch.

Nancy still stood, frozen in place, realizing that she probably looked stupid and lost to those around her, but she was faced with too much indecision, not sure what she should do. When he turned his head slightly towards her, she panicked and stepped off the path, into the grass, feeling her heel sink into the soft earth, but she moved further until she was standing next to a cherry tree, the shadow of its leaves obscuring her enough that John would have to squint into the sun, and still wouldn't easily recognize her. She breathed an unexpected sigh of relief as she realized she'd gone unnoticed.

It gave her the rare opportunity to observe John Sheppard unnoticed. He was a hard man to catch unawares – but there, out in the open, in public, prying eyes could seek him out easily enough. Nancy took advantage of the situation.

He didn't look quite as worn as he had the last time she'd seen him – but some of that exhaustion she'd seen on his face then no doubt had something to do with his father's death. He looked older than when they'd been married of course, but he still maintained some sort of youthful exuberance, though the lines on his face were a little bit deeper with cares he carried.

John moved slightly, shifting his weight and briefly removed his cap, splaying one hand through his hair in a movement that Nancy recognized as automatic and unconscious, and she thought she noted just a sprinkling of gray in his hair. Were they really that old now? Then his hand trailed down to the back of his neck, hesitating slightly there – and this was a tell Nancy recognized – nerves – preparation for the unexpected.

She cocked her head to one side, wondering what he was anxious about. Then John replaced the cap, still just slightly crooked, enough to say that he still obeyed the rules by wearing his cover in public while in uniform, but made it entirely his own. John had always had a respect for the rules – and he liked to mold them to fit him if possible.

That was something Nancy had always loved about him.

Nancy couldn't help but scan the rest of his body with her eyes. It was almost an automatic response. She remembered doing it every time he came through the door, home from a mission. John would always try to hide his injuries, big or small, never wanting to worry her, so she'd become adept at watching his body for any tell tale signs. She vaguely remembered the cuts, bruises, and broken bones she'd seen while they were married.

Now, as he leaned a little to the right, she caught the slightest hitch in his breathing and the way one hand hovered just close to his rib cage, as if he was prepared to wrap his arm around if necessary. Everything else in his stance radiated readiness and ease, but she could tell he was hurting – somewhere in his chest.

Unexpectedly, she shuddered.

John shifted a bit and checked his watch for the second time and it dawned on Nancy that he was waiting for someone. Despite the fact that she knew she should return to her office, now she just couldn't tear herself away. She had to see just who he was meeting.

Another few minutes passed, and she watched the Colonel perch on a yellow painted pole, one leg up on a concrete block impeded in the ground in a casual manner that totally went against his perfectly pressed uniform. Two girls on rollerblades passed him by and Nancy gaped when the girls didn't even bother hiding their interest, blatantly checking out the good looking Colonel along the path.

Unexpectedly, she wished they would trip and fall.

She hated to admit it, but John was as good looking now as he had been, if not just a little better. He'd aged well - and like some men, he just seemed to become better looking with time. Gone was the baby face, but it was replaced by a chiseled jaw and an incredibly confident air.

Nancy had always loved John in his dress uniform – he had always taken her breath away. It sounded silly, and a little cliché, but she couldn't help it. John had always been rakishly good looking – simply attractive in one of those undeniable ways. Women had always checked John out – and he could be so devilishly flirty that it wasn't funny.

Nancy remembered how emphatically people had told her what beautiful children they would have.

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

"You're really starting to lose it Nancy," she chided herself quietly. "You sign formal divorce papers this morning, and then you spend the afternoon spying on your ex-husband who you've managed to convince yourself you've never stopped loving," she spat in a whisper.

She was about to continue her disgusted ravings when she noted John stiffen up a little, and watched him tug at his uniform jacket as if it was suddenly out of place, although he looked as impeccable as he had when standing with General O'Neill.

Nancy looked around, trying to figure out what had initiated his change in posture, and then spotted a familiar face making his way towards John. It was David Sheppard.

Nancy closed her opened jaw and clenched her teeth. John had been waiting for Dave! Dave had known John was back from whatever mission he was on – and worse yet, that John was going to be in DC – and he had neglected to tell her. Nancy was floored and angry.

In front of her, the two brothers greeted each other, awkwardly at first, just shaking hands, but then, as if agreeing together somehow, they moved into a hug, and then they were a foot apart again, but they were both grinning, the awkward moment gone, and Dave was beaming at John – and John was beaming right back.

They seemed happy. Normal.

That sucked through Nancy like a double edged sword. Dave and John had made peace somehow. After all those years of not understanding each other and letting their father keep them apart, the two brothers who had once been inseparable, had managed to find their way back to each other.

It stung more than in should have and Nancy stood there, wracked with guilt for being angry and jealous at their obvious reunion.

Part of her hated John for so easily forgiving David – she remembered his heartbroken confessions of how badly he missed his older brother. She recalled the un-returned phone calls and the superior lectures at Sheppard Family gatherings – never so harsh or mean as Patrick Sheppard's, but worse in the way that John truly respected Dave – and had wanted to please him. While Patrick Sheppard had made John angry, David had made him feel guilty.

The other part of her hated David. She had basically bared her soul to the business man, trusting him as a good friend and had literally all but said the words "I think I might still love John." She had trusted him. And now, here he was, meeting John, in Washington where she lived and worked, and David hadn't even told her.

Suddenly feeling very foolish – like a teenager with an obsessive crush – Nancy tore her eyes away.

It was like a crushing weight on her chest. She had lost Grant and now was just realizing that a stupid fantasy of somehow finding a way to rekindle her relationship with John was ridiculous.

For considering herself a relatively intelligent and grounded individual, she had obviously let things get out of hand. Did she really miss John so much that it had come to this? Had she been living with the regret of leaving him all this time? The regret of never knowing if it could have worked? Nancy could admit that she might have rushed things – especially when he'd offered to give up everything he cared about for her.

She knew now that there could have been other options, but in the heat of the moment – with all that paranoia, anger, and pent up fear and frustration, she had thought divorce the best option.

What was worse was finding out later how their divorce had further ripped John from his family. Patrick Sheppard had thought that marrying Nancy had been the best thing John could have ever done – and he was beyond angry when he found out that John had let Nancy get away.

Over and over, despite her anger with John, Nancy had always defended him to Patrick. She knew how to handle the cantankerous old mogul. So she wouldn't just argue with him outright, she would choose her battle's carefully. And no matter how angry she was with John, she refused to let Patrick see that. She just laughed their divorce off. It hadn't been easy.

Standing there now, seeing John and David be happy and comfortable with each other made Nancy realize just how much she'd lost.

She watched for a few minutes more, almost unable to tear her eyes away from John, trying to memorize the way he looked now, afraid she'd never see him again.

The two men exchanged conversation, and then David produced some papers and handed them to John, and the two men spent the next few moments going over them. Nancy fought down her curiosity and forced herself to turn away.

She had spied on them for too long and had lost any nerve she might have had to approach them, despite the burning desire in her stomach to do so.

Instead, Nancy forced herself to walk away, relieved when she was back on the path, and she picked up her pace, hustling to move faster, and when she was far enough away, she ran. It wasn't easy in heels, but she had a sudden need to escape, and she ran almost all the way back to her office, oblivious to the strange looks she garnered as she rushed by in her business attire.

Her office had never seemed safer when she finally got there, and her assistant, somehow sensing her distress, appeared moments later with a steaming cup of tea and a blueberry muffin.

"You look pale," she explained with a shrug.

"Thank you, Anita," Nancy said gratefully, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug.

She sat there for another half an hour, doing nothing, then forced herself to get back to some reports that she was reviewing, trying to push her slowly down-spiraling day out of her mind.

The day wore on, and eventually, Nancy was able to absorb herself in work when Anita knocked softly on the door, and poked her head in.

"There's an Air Force Officer here to see you," she said, glancing back over her shoulder, presumably to be sure that the officer in question was still there. It gave Nancy a moment to cover the panic that she was sure must be covering her face.

Relax Nancy! She demanded of herself. Every day she met with and dealt with members of the armed services – it went hand and hand with her job – even if most of the time they made appointments ahead of time. She was silly to think that there was even a chance that it was John.

"A Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard," Anita answered, glancing back at Nancy finally, and it was too late for Nancy to school her expression. "Nancy! Are you alright?" Anita asked quickly, stepping into the office fully and letting the door shut behind her, rushing to her boss' side. Nancy blinked up at her in surprise. "You look like you're about to faint," the younger woman said worriedly.

"No…no, it's alright," she said, searching for a way to explain her strange behavior. Anita looked alarmed – and rightly so. Very little ruffled the feathers of her boss. Nancy was silent for a moment, but no words came to excuse her behavior. "I'm fine, just…show him in," she said quickly, quickly swallowing down the rest of her tea – now cold and bitter.

"Are you sure? I could ask him to come back…" Anita suggested.

"No!" Nancy said quickly, a thrill of fear racing through her body at the thought of having John sent away.

Anita looked at her in surprise, but nodded. "Do you…need a moment? I can get him some coffee…"

"Yes, that's a good idea. He likes it black – one sugar," she commented absently and just barely kept herself from slamming her hand over her mouth. Anita was looking at her dubiously.

"I'll let the Colonel know you'll just be a moment…" the girl said suspiciously, and then ducked out.

Nancy leaned back in her chair, her hands coming up to her face as she sat there, breathing deeply. John was there? In the outer office? To see her?

"He probably just wants another favor," she reasoned, steeling herself to be more firm with him this time. She wouldn't let him convince her to risk her job again. At least she would try really hard not to. "What is he doing here?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Not a few hours ago, she'd been angry at the idea of not seeing him – and now, she was acting like a spooked kitten. At least it was here, in her office – on her own turf. If she'd actually run into him on The Mall, it could have been much more awkward. Here, she could be in control. Except that she had no idea why he was there. Which automatically put the ball in his court.

She cursed under her breath at the fact that somehow, he always seemed to get the upper hand.

She must have wasted a lot on time thinking because suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and she knew that despite how odd she was acting, Anita still would have given her ample time to pull herself together.

Frantically, Nancy smoothed her hair down, and straightened her jacket. "Come in," she finally called, deciding if she stayed sitting, she'd look more in control of the situation – of her office.

Just a second later, Anita opened the door, and ushered John Sheppard in.

"Director Allen," she said by way of introduction, although she guessed that the Air Force Colonel and her boss already knew each other, judging by Nancy's earlier reaction. "And this is Colonel Sheppard," she announced, then gracefully stepped back and out, although she would have loved to be a fly on the wall to figure out just what was going on with her boss.

Nancy didn't even see the young woman leave. Her eyes were riveted on John as she tried to look less than surprised. He stepped further into the room, his cover in held in front of him in both hands, looking as formal as he might if appearing before a board of his superiors, and Nancy noted with some satisfaction that he looked a little anxious. Outwardly, it was hard to tell, but she could see a tightening around his eyes and noted the firm squaring of his shoulders that had little to do with the fact that he was in his dress uniform.

Still, he was smiling – and that smile was dangerous. It wasn't the killer, melt-your –heart right through the soles of your shoes smile (although she loved that one too). It was the slightly lopsided, too friendly smile – the smile that he reserved for people he knew and cared about. Nancy had thought she'd never see that exact smile again – at least not directed at her.

"Hello Nancy," he said as way of greeting.

"John…I had no idea you were back in the States!" she said, trying to act surprised so he would have no idea she'd seen him earlier.

John chuckled. "Yes…back in the States," he murmured, as if those words were so far from the truth that no one would believe him even if he said he was stationed on a space station.

She couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at him. "Still with the secrets I see," she replied, but none of the bite that could have accompanied those words came through.

"You know me," he said, and it was reminiscent of the last time they'd spoken, though now he looked much better than he had then – cleanly shaven, looking like he'd gotten a week's worth of 8-hour nights, and dressed smartly in his perfect uniform.

Normally a comment like that from him would have drawn a retort from her, but she couldn't bring herself to be mean. Maybe she was too tired – or maybe she just wanted the same peace with John that David had seemed to attain.

"Yes, I do know," she replied, though her tone was soft. "It's nice to see you," she admitted, standing so she could extend her hand. Privately, she was pleased when he looked caught off guard – that wasn't easy to do to John Sheppard.

He shook her hand over the desk and smiled at her warmly, this time a more smoldering grin that he used when he was up to something, and she had to fight the wary urge that she felt instantly.

"It's nice to see you too," he agreed, then withdrew his hand to run it through his unruly hair. Nancy couldn't help thinking how some things never changed. Still, this was going much better than their encounter at the wake. John seemed…much more confident in his interactions with her.

She wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't grieving for his father, or in "hostile" territory, or because he was in dress uniform that was giving him the sense of security, but it was a whole lot easier to talk to him this way.

"What no…body guard this time?" she asked, recalling the large, dread-locked man that had been with John at his father's wake. She'd been amused at the way the giant had sized her up like she could possibly be a threat – more specifically, a threat to John. She had instantly sensed his loyalty to her ex-husband.

John chuckled again. "No, Ronon's not with me this time," he supplied.

"So, not to cut straight to the chase, but what brings you here – to me," she asked, wincing inwardly at the way she'd chosen to end the sentence, so quickly, she babbled on. "Looking for more classified information?" she shot out, a little more harshly than she had meant to.

John took her tone in stride and cocked his head to one side in obvious amusement. How, after all these years, he could read her so well, Nancy had no idea.

"Actually, part of the reason I came was to thank you for your help," he told her, and before she could say that the basket had been more than enough, he continued on. "And I came to offer my…condolences about Greg…I mean Grant," he corrected quickly, and Nancy felt her ire rise. Placatingly, John held out one white-gloved hand. "But, I know you're about to tell me to shut up, so I'd also like to apologize for even bringing it up," he finished smoothly, an apologetic half-smile on his face.

She saw reflected in his eyes the pain she now felt at having been left. What she had done to John, Grant had done to her.

Nancy sighed in obvious discomfort.

"Surely you didn't come all the way here just to tell me sorry that I'm getting…I got divorced…" she said aloud before she could stop the thoughts from forming sound.

John smiled in amusement again.

"Actually, no – I didn't. I hope this isn't tacky," he added quickly, his hand finding the back of his neck, rubbing gently at the base of his hairline. "You obviously know Dave's getting married this coming weekend…?" he trailed off as if he had the correct information but was still uncertain of how genuine it was.

Nancy offered half a curse in her mind. Of course! Dave's upcoming wedding! How had she forgotten? Of course that's why John was home – David was getting married to Claire, his business partner and girlfriend of four years.

"Yes, yes of course," she responded crisply, as if she hadn't forgotten the invitation pinned to her refrigerator. "On Saturday – in Virginia at your father's Apple Farm," she rattled off, trying to remember what she'd ordered for dinner, even as the full impact of the memory of having to reply as a single to something that most people went as couple's to – it was particularly painful.

"Dave said you were coming, and well, I'm kind of in the wedding…" he told her, shifting ever so slightly.

Nancy was surprised – Dave hadn't mentioned that.

"…the best man," John continued, looking a bit sheepish and a bit proud all at once. "But I don't have a date, and, well, I thought you might want an escort," he finally finished, and he looked her in the eye. It wasn't what she'd been expecting, considering his line of conversation. She'd more expected him to say something about hoping it wouldn't be too awkward between them.

Nancy forgot to breathe for a moment. Part of her wanted to yell at him, especially because in a way, he was making her feel stupid. After all, she didn't want to be reminded that she was as alone as she'd ever been. The rest of her couldn't believe that he would actually ask. She was a little afraid that it was just his hero complex – that he had to help the creature in need.

But as he looked into her eyes, she couldn't help but see only sincerity there – only the request, with no ulterior motive.

"Purely honorable, of course," John rambled on when she didn't speak, twitching his hands as he spoke, his cover gripped tightly as he became more animated. She never remembered him speaking with his hands before. "If it's a stupid idea, just say so…" he added.

Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and grasped his free hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'd really like that John," she said, pleased at how steady her voice sounded when she was finally able to speak.

John gaped at her for a moment, and then began to grin. It was that cocky grin that she'd fallen in love with – the one that said "I can take on the world – just watch me" – the one that made girls trip over their own feet – the one that got him almost anything he wanted.

"Great," he said, and she was surprised that he didn't just crow about his victory. Instead, his voice was even and genuine. Nancy suddenly realized that John had grown up – he wasn't just a young man, out flying helicopters on dangerous missions because there was thrill and challenge involved. The man standing before her was a Lieutenant Colonel – and a highly decorated one at that. It was only then that Nancy noted just how heavy his jacket was with honors – nothing like she'd last seen. "It'll be my honor," he said formally.

Nancy blinked at him, and smiled, watching an odd change in his eyes, as if he was melting on the inside just as much as she was.

"I think it will be my honor to be on the arm of such an important and distinguished Air Force Colonel," she returned the compliment, and was rewarded by pink creeping up into his cheeks.

She leaned over her desk, aware suddenly that as gentlemanly as he may have appeared up until that point, he was suddenly checking her out when he thought he wasn't being observed. The thought brought heat to her own cheeks, but she was more than flattered. Quickly, she scrawled her address and phone number on the back of her business card, and straightened up, hoping to catch him in the act, but John was too good for that, and stood there, almost at attention.

"The wedding's at three, so you'll…pick me up at Noon?" she asked, thinking about the drive.

"What if I pick you up at 9 and take you for breakfast? And we…make a day out of it?" he asked hopefully, as if he knew he was pushing his luck.

Nancy felt tears gather in her eyes. Grant hated going out for breakfast. It was always protein shakes and a banana…and out the door. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a waffle.

"I know this great little Italian bakery…" she said in response, managing to keep the emotion out of her voice. "They…make an amazing waffle," she said, catching her own sheepish tone.

John beamed at her. "I'll be there at 9am," he promised, and she didn't worry, because he was never late for things when he told you just what time he'd been there. "Until then, take care of yourself, Nancy," and the way he said her name made her weak in the knees.

She nodded, but was too stunned to do more, and he let himself out.

For a few minutes, she sat there in silence before Anita tentatively poked her head in the door. "Nancy…are you ok?" she questioned, glancing back out the door like she thought John was going to reappear. "Did you know that Colonel?"

Nancy laughed shortly. "Oh yes, I know him. And oh no – I'm not ok. I think I've lost my mind," she said absently.

Anita looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand. Did he do something…? Should I…?" she trailed off, having no idea what she was trying to ask.

"Oh no, he didn't do anything except be as completely frustrating as he always is. Anita, what am I going to do? I just agreed to go on a date with my ex-husband!"