His peripheral vision caught a sudden change in Rufus' face. Rufus wasn't laughing anymore, his eyes were wide, staring at something behind and beyond Wyatt's shoulder, and his mouth gaped open. Wyatt's training kicked in. He took a step back from Lucy, and could feel his body entering ready stance, "What is it?" he hissed.

Rufus's mouth started to move "Ho-ly-shi-Lucy, come dance with me," he grabbed her wrist, not noticing her bemused expression, "Right Now," he practically shouted, pulling her off her stool and toward the dance floor behind them.

"Dude, what the-?"

And then Wyatt heard it-her voice. Right. Behind. Him.

Wyatt?"

It was as though the entire bar had gone silent-all he could hear was the thudding of his own heart, seeming to pick up speed like a locomotive. He blinked once, and found himself having to command his feet to assist him in turning toward the still familiar voice.

"Jess?" he somehow managed to croak.

"I knew it was you—oh my gosh, it's been forever….I can't believe you're actually stateside!"

Wyatt's brain had in no way caught up to the reality of his situation. It wasn't. Couldn't be. Was it?

It sounded like her—it smelled like her. Looked like her—but just a bit different. Her hair—it was shorter, and she was wearing more makeup than he remembered. Her hand, the left one, there was something different about it as well, niggling at the back of his mind—but then she brought it to his shoulder, and the warmth of it captivated his brain with memories, pushing the thought away. Desperately, he tried to organize his thoughts enough to try and say something—

"Jeez Wyatt, stare much? How much have you had to drink tonight?"

She removed her hand, and the lack of contact sent Wyatt reeling. He slammed both hands onto the stool seat beside him, willing himself to stay upright.

"Wow, you really are drunk….wait, I know! Happy Birthday, right?"

He wasn't able to process whether or not he had nodded an affirmation. She was real. She was here. This was actually happening.

He said her name again. At this point, it seemed to be the only thing he could muster.

She smiled again, "So, who are your friends?"

"Huh?" His gaze followed her motion toward the dance floor, toward Rufus and Lucy, doing some sort of bizarre cheek-to-cheek tango, so that both sets of eyes could stay trained on him and Jessica.

What the hell? He shook his head, ordering his mind to focus, to clear the fog that seemed to be encircling his every thought. Closing his eyes, he balled his hands into fists, pressing his fingers into his palms. Get. A. Grip. Wyatt. Logan.

"Wyatt? Your friends?"

Slowly, he moved his head back around to face her, knowing his mouth was still gaping, but seemingly unable to do anything about that. She was waiting; expecting an answer….What was the question?

Then he remembered. "Rufus, and Lucy,…and Rufus."

"Rufus is it?" She leaned forward, conspiratorially, "Well, tell Rufus he's not fooling anyone."

"What?"

Her lips quirked sideways as she straightened again. "I saw you earlier, silly….I know she's with you."

He shook his head rapidly, "No, 'course not—just friends," he began, but then saw the mischief in her eyes turn to concern.

She sighed. "Wyatt….it's okay. It's been almost three years. You know I've had other relationships—hell, although it was a mistake, you knew I dated your old roommate, briefly. And Steve an' me have been living together for almost a year now, back in San Diego. So, it's okay for us to talk about it. I'm glad you have someone. You look….happy, and that's all I ever wanted for you. I…well….it always broke my heart, when you couldn't be happy….before." She glanced again a Lucy on the dance floor, and back at Wyatt.

"You look pretty good together, too." She winked. "And I'm extra happy, if it means she's gotten you to come back to this country. I hated thinkin' about you, volunteering to extend your deployments oversees year after year. I want you safe—and I want you happy."

"You said that."

She smiled that special smile, the one he still saw in his dreams. "Yeah? Well it's because I mean it."

There was movement at the door; a group of women were waving at Jessica, trying to get her attention.

"Well, I guess I should get back to them—girls weekend—we're on our way, actually, going to….well," she smiled softly, "Never mind, it's not important. Take care of yourself, Wyatt."

Faster than he could process, her arms were around his shoulders in a quick hug, and then the contact was gone, and she was moving toward the door.

No, his inner voice screamed. Get her back. Through sheer force of will, he finally cleared some of the brain fog that had been hampering him their entire conversation.

"Wait," he said, his voice finally sounding more like himself.

She turned back, toward him, "Yeah?" she questioned

He smiled softly. "How…." He trailed off. "Jess, how's….life?"

There was that smile again. He had to press his foot hard against the lower rung of the stool beside him, in an attempt to ground himself.

"Oh, you know, pretty good. Business, it's doing well….I mean, it's not like I'm saving the world or anything, like you….but I'm where I want to be, you know?"

One of the impatient women called from the door, "Jessica, you coming?"

"Oh gosh, I gotta go…." she approached again, as though to hug him, then hesitated, instead placing her hand on his left wrist. "Happy birthday, Wyatt. Stay in touch, okay? Stay safe." Her gaze flashed back to Lucy on the dance floor. "Have fun tonight!" She chuckled lightly….and then she was gone.