Jessie fidgeted in the uncomfortable airport chair. She looked at the clock on the wall and bit her lip, trying to calm her rolling stomach.

Mattie had a fit after Jessie declared she was going to California unescorted, but Jessie was not to be deterred. After promises not to tell her father until she was on her way, Arthur drove her to the airport. However, after a layover in Las Vegas overnight because of plane trouble, Jessie was at her wit's end, wondering if she was doing the right thing.

So sure of herself after she read the letter, maybe she shouldn't have acted so rashly. After all, Charles had made Klinger call her all the way from Korea to tell her not to read it. Maybe he had changed his mind.

Jessie adjusted her hat and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her dress. She had settled on this particular one because it was one of the few that fit her, and the color brought out her eyes. It made her feel confident, and she needed all the help she could get with her nerves shot to hell.

She looked around the crowded airport, trying to find something to take her mind from what she was about to do.

There were several families waiting on their sons and daughters to return, holding American flags and excited children. They all had the same look of relief on their faces, the same one she received from her family as she raced up her driveway into their arms.

Across the room, she spotted a small group of people with a "Welcome Home" sign. Jessie smiled. Charles would have hated a sign.

There was a petite blonde woman with a small child. Jessie couldn't help but wonder if this was who she thought it was. She did see numerous pictures of the two of them, after all.

Jessie glanced at the clock again. Maybe he missed the plane. After all, it is the military. Maybe he was on an earlier flight, and I missed him. What do I do if he is on this one? What do I say? Maybe I should just slip out of here before it arrives, and no one would know. Maybe . . .

The crowd surged forward. The plane had obviously landed.

Jessie thought she was going to be sick.

Nervously, she stood up, trying to see through the crowd.

A cry went up from across the room, and the blonde woman jumped into the arms of a familiar figure, sans mustache.

Of course. B.J. would be the first one off the plane.

Jessie couldn't help but grin as B.J. and Peg held onto each other for dear life. She toyed with the idea of speaking, but didn't want to explain why she was there in the first place.

She watched as others ran through the doors into the arms of their loved ones, her heart pounding in her throat as the last passengers trickled through, mainly men on business in Honolulu without anyone to give them heartfelt greetings.

Her hopes fell. He really did miss the flight.

Strangely enough, she couldn't help but be disappointed. With one last glance at the arrival gate, she sighed and started to turn away.

********************************

Charles ambled through the double doors, not in any hurry. He only carried one bag, having lost his alligator luggage he arrived in Korea with in a poker game, Looking calm and collected, he wore his hat back on his head and a white scarf around his Army dress coat.

Jessie's eyes widened. He always looked calm and collected. I'm the one always running around in a panic. She stood still, her feet planted on the tarmac floor. The crowd milled about her, the cries of welcome being replaced with conversation and tears. Panicked, she wondered for the umpteenth time if she had made the right decision.

She watched him through the thinning crowd. He stood back and watched B.J.'s reunion with his family, a wistful smile on his face. B.J. motioned him over, but he shook his head. He did shake B.J.'s hand as the now ex-captain balanced Erin in his arms. After patting Erin's back fondly, Charles picked up his bag and looked around the room, hunting for the exit.

************************************

He could have swore he saw her standing across the room, wearing a smart white hat and gloves and a green dress, her lovely auburn hair curled about her shoulders. He shook his head slightly. Get a grip, Winchester. He took a few steps towards the exit, wanting to get away from the noisy homecomings, constantly reminded that no one was here to greet him. He understood. He really did. But, it would have been nice . . .

A boisterous group with balloons and signs moved away, talking excitedly, and this time, he knew it was her. She looked nervous and a little unsure of herself, but her head was held high.

Somehow, he maneuvered his way through the remaining crowd, his eyes never leaving hers.

Finally, there was no one else between them. He was truly speechless as he sat his bag down at his feet.

Jessie closed the remaining distance, biting her bottom lip. He looked exhausted, even more weary than she remembered. The last few days were probably hell.

Remembering why she was there, she reached in her purse with an unsteady hand and came out with a letter.

The letter.

Charles didn't know what to say. He couldn't take his eyes off her. For all he knew, they were the only two in the room.

"Funny thing happened the other day," she began softly. "For some strange reason, I did as I was told and didn't read this. Probably the first time in my life I've done what I was told. Outside of the Army, of course."

He chuckled, aching to pull her into his arms. Instead, he waited.

Jessie continued, a little stronger. "But, the voice of reason – otherwise known as your sister - finally came through. And I opened it."

Charles looked momentarily panicked. But, she was here, so isn't that a good thing? Right? Usually so sure of himself, he didn't quite know what to think.

"And?" he managed to croak, wanting to touch her to make sure he wasn't seeing a mirage.

Jessie smiled softly, searching his face. "I guess if we're both going to be this stubborn, we'll need to work on communicating a little better in the future. Don't you think?"

It didn't quite register at first what she was saying.

"Kiss her!" They both looked up at B.J., holding Erin, Peg beside him making shushing motions. B.J. grinned at his wife and winked at Jessie.

Charles reached for her. "You know, that's the most intelligent thing that's come out of that man's mouth since I've known him."

When his lips met hers, Jessie knew she'd made the right decision.

*********************************************

"So, what do you want to do first?"

"Hmmm?" Charles had his arm draped over her shoulders, idling playing with a strand of her hair. He still had a difficult time believing she was there. Hell, he had a hard enough time believing he was even back in the States!

The taxi driver waited patiently for their destination.

She poked him in the side. "What do you want to do first? Eat? Sleep? What?"

"What did you do?"

"Ate myself into a stupor. Fried chicken, cornbread, turnip greens, you name it, we had it!" She patted her stomach. "Mattie has made it her life's work to fatten me up. Seems to be doing a good job, too."

He thought of the gourmet meals he had at home. "Just no turnip greens."

Jessie grinned, then leaned forward to speak to the driver. "I know just the place!"

***********************************

Charles groaned, placing his napkin on the table. "OK, I give up. That's the best meal I've had, since I've been back."

Jessie rolled her eyes. "It's the only meal you've had since you've been back!"

She had spotted the elegant restaurant on her hurried way to the airport. Optimistically, she had made early dinner reservations, as well as reserved a suite of rooms in the upstairs, four-star hotel.

The dinner crowd was just starting to arrive, quiet conversation and laughter surrounding them. Throughout their meal, they enjoyed each other's company, almost like they had never been apart. She told him about her trip to Boston, and he caught her up on what had happened at the 4077th since she had left. Light, easy conversation.

They didn't discuss the letter. Seemed a little much at the time.

All throughout dinner, Charles had been reserved. Jessie figured he was just tired, but something kept nagging at her. It's in his eyes. They seem sadder somehow.

She was sure something was wrong after the panicked look in his eyes when the orchestra starting warming up for the dinner crowd. She reached out and touched his hand. "Charles?"

He gripped the table cloth with such force that his knuckles turned white, trying to take deep breaths. He was almost collected when the band started their first number. It was Mozart.

He jumped up. "I . . .um . . . I'm getting a little tired. Did you say you had a suite?"

Concerned, Jessie stood up, too, and rummaged in her purse, pulling out a key. "Room 1285. Go on up, if you like, and I'll settle the bill."

Charles hastily reached for his wallet and handed her several bills. Preoccupied, he hurried from the restaurant.

Jessie paid as fast as she could. A little apprehensive, she rode the frustratingly slow elevator to the 12th floor, and she walked down the carpeted hall to the room. The door was slightly ajar. Tentatively, she opened it.

"Charles?"

Jessie had left a small lamp on in the plush sitting room, but it did little to dispel the darkness. Quietly, she shut the door and locked it, laying her purse and hat on the sideboard and removed her heels, reaching down to rub her left foot. She always hated heels.

Hesitantly making her way to the first bedroom, she pushed open the door. She could see him sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, his elbows on his knees, staring aimlessly at the carpet.

Quietly, she stood next to him, debating on what to do. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

He took a deep breath. "It's that damn Mozart."

Mozart had always been one of his favorites. "OK, you're going to have to be more specific."

Charles started to reply.

She knew what was coming. "And don't you dare tell me it's none of my business!"

That earned a small smile. But, as soon as the smile appeared, it faded. Abruptly, he rose from the bed and stood before the window, looking out on the San Francisco skyline.

Slowly, he began to tell her about the Chinese musicians. How wonderful it was to lose himself in teaching. And how stricken he was at finding only one had survived to make it back to camp long enough to die at his feet, one of the last official casualties of the police action.

"It's not fair," Jessie whispered once he finished by telling her about the night at the farewell party.

Charles stared stoically out the window, not seeing the twinkling lights of the Bay Bridge. "No, it's not."

"There wasn't anything you could do."

"I know. That's what makes it so damn frustrating." He turned to face her. "My entire life, I've controlled everything that's gone on around me. But there, it was the total opposite of what I'd come to know."

Jessie was struck by the exhaustion in his face. "Why don't you get some sleep? Your plane leaves tomorrow afternoon, and you can stay in bed until then, if you like. I'll even get you something to help you sleep."

Wearily, he loosened the tie of his uniform and sank onto the bed. Too tired even to remove the Army attire he hated, he laid back and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Jessie left him alone, not even trying to remove his boots. She sat the glass of warm milk on the nightstand and watched him for a moment before quietly creeping across the hall to the smaller bedroom.

Due to her hurried flight from home and stressful layover, she hadn't slept much in the past several days either and fell into a dreamless sleep.

*********************************

An unfamiliar noise woke her, and she struggled from underneath the blankets. The clock on her night stand read 1:15. She listened for a moment, then saw a light come on across the hall. Throwing back the blankets, she reached for her robe tossed over a chair.

She found him in the bathroom, leaning heavily on the sink, watching the water run down the drain, breathing unsteadily. Occasionally, he'd throw water on his face, trying to catch his breath.

Now, this was familiar territory! Although not as vivid, nightmares still occasionally haunted her sleep.

She stood in the doorway holding her robe tightly around herself, wanting to comfort him, but not sure if he'd accept it.

It was a few minutes before he spotted her.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, turning off the water. He reached for a towel to dry his face and hands. His shirt and tie, wrinkled from being slept in, were soaked as well. He walked by Jessie, settling wearily on the side of the bed.

Before Jessie realized it, she started telling him about the helicopters in the early hours of the morning, finding herself standing in the middle of the darkened front yard in her bathrobe, her frightened and confused family watching her from the doorway as she realized she was searching the horizon for something that didn't exist. "Sometimes, I think I imagined it. Dreamed it up from some left-over hallucination."

Charles finally looked up at her, her expression hard to make out in the dim light. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Not any crazier than I am." Jessie touched his cheek lightly. "Just don't clam up on me. I don't think I could take it after all we've been through."

Charles turned her hands over in his, softly kissing her palms. "You're an amazing woman."

He stood up, and Jessie held her breath. Gently, he untied her robe, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath it, she wore a short black silk shift.

Charles ran a finger back and forth along one of the straps on her shoulder. "Funny. I don't remember you wearing these in camp."

"Could you see the reaction from everyone if all the nurses wore what they normally slept in at home? Plus, I probably would have lost them in a poker game, anyway." She didn't know why she was rambling.

"Our loss, I suppose."

Charles nuzzled her neck softly, her pulse jumping under his touch. Jessie placed her hands on his chest to steady herself.

Expertly, he flicked the straps off her shoulders, and her gown fell to her feet. The soft light did little to dispel the desire in his eyes. "God, woman, you're enough to make me want to stay in bed with you for a week."

Jessie stepped closer and pressed against him, a small moan escaping his lips. She motioned towards the floor. "Not in those dirty boots, you're not," she whispered.

*******************************

Jessie slept on her stomach, arms curled underneath her, tousled hair partially covering her face. The afternoon sun slanted through the opened curtains onto her back, the downy hairs on her skin almost glowing with a life of their own. Charles stood by the side of the bed, mesmerized by the sight.

Their previous night together was different than before. Before, they had come together passionately, hungering for a lover's touch in the violent world that surrounded them.

Last night, they made love at a much slower pace, memorizing each other's wants and needs. Slowly, they caressed each other to a dizzying climax that left them drained, and they had lain in each other's arms, breathless. Although spent, Charles found himself wanting her again and again as he held her close throughout the night.

He reached out and brushed the small of her back with the tips of his fingers. Jessie stirred , but didn't wake. He felt himself respond and cursed. His flight for Boston left in a little over an hour. As much as he longed for home, he found himself wanting to climb back in the king-sized bed, wanting to see her green eyes flash at his touch.

He gingerly settled on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hair away from her face. He whispered her name softly.

Her eyes opened, and she groaned, rising on one elbow, her other arm holding the blankets over her chest. "What time is it?"

"Almost one."

She squinted at the sunlight streaming through the window. "Not a.m., I take it."

"Not even close." He felt his breath catch in his throat as she stretched and rolled onto her back, holding the sheet across most of her body. He knew what the rest of her looked like underneath that sheet.

With all thoughts of time falling away, he pulled her to him, blankets and all. Hungrily, he kissed her. When he pulled away, the sleepy look in her eyes had been replaced with longing.

"Come with me to Boston."

She shook her head. "No."

He rubbed his finger down her neck as she closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. "I . . . I don't think I can make it without you," he continued. When they had slept, limbs tangled among the blankets, he had the first dreamless sleep in a long time.

Jessie snuggled against his chest. "You need time at home. Besides, you're starting your position at Mercy soon. That'll keep you busy enough, I'm sure."

He kissed the top of her head, breathing deeply.

"I don't think your parents would agree to our sleeping arrangements, anyway."

"You think?"

Although she had met his parents, the thought of meeting them as Charles's lover scared the hell out of her. They were polite, but Jessie didn't want to find out what they would do if they knew. Probably have her flogged.

Suddenly, she leaned back. "Hey! Nice suit!" She pulled back and studied him. "Where on earth did you get it?"

Charles chuckled deeply. "There's a tailor downstairs. It's not my exact size, but I wasn't going to put on that wretched uniform again. I told the bellboy to burn it."

Jessie smoothed the grey lapel and admired the maroon tie and expensive cut. "I don't think I've ever seen you in anything but those uniforms, you know."

"Well, I couldn't exactly get off the plane in Boston looking like a street urchin." He remembered his flight and looked at his watch, also obtained from the shops downstairs. "I've got to go." But, he didn't let her go.

"I'll miss you," Jessie said, her voice muffled in his coat.

"I'll miss you more." She raised her head, and he kissed her softly. "I'll call everyday."

She smiled as he kissed her. "You better."

"I'll visit you, just as soon as I can get away from the hospital."

She pretended to be shocked. "You mean, you'll come all the way to Texas? A Winchester willingly traveling to the South? Won't you be disgraced? What will your family think?"

Charles smiled at her theatrics. "They'll think I've fallen head over heels for the most beautiful girl west of the Mississippi."

She playfully hit him. "Flattery will get you no where."

Reluctantly, Charles let her go. "You sure you won't come with me? I can get you a seat on the plane."

She settled back against the pillows. "I'm sure your family wouldn't appreciate an intruder on your first days back."

Charles actually figured they wouldn't even notice, so busy would they be with their personal lives. Honoria would notice, and she would be thrilled. He reached out and touched her cheek. "I love you, Miss Callahan. Don't you forget it while I'm away."

Jessie turned and kissed his fingertips. "I love you, too, Dr. Winchester. And it doesn't matter how rich you are, if you don't go, your plane's leaving without you."

Laughing, Charles sat his hat on his head. With one last glance, he was gone, closing the door to the suite with a soft click.

Jessie settled back onto the bed, yawning.