It's early when I wake, and while I'm pleased to wake in John's arms, I have a pressing issue at the moment to handle. I am careful to keep from waking John, and ease out of bed. I take care of my needs and find that I am restless. I make quick work of cleaning up the chamber pot and return it to its place. I wash up, and ready myself for the day.

I slip out of our bedroom and go to the kitchen, I begin a fire in the stove, stoking the wood from rising flames to glowing embers. I retrieve a pan for cooking, and decide on eggs, and the cured ham I bought from the market yesterday evening on my way home. I decide on biscuits as well. The eggs and ham will be fairly quick to cook, so I began to work on the biscuits, assembling the dough, then kneading and pressing it, rolling the dough into small balls, placing them on the buttered pan for the oven. Once the biscuits are taken care of, I get to work on the eggs and ham.

The pan on the stove is hot enough. I add butter to the pan and crack the eggs, dropping them into the pan. I plate the eggs and then add the salted meat, searing it, and plating it. I remove the pan from the heat, and then take out the biscuits, Breakfast is ready, and now to see about waking up John.

I hear a groan and concern furrows my brow as I go to our bedroom. As I enter John moans again, he's shifting restlessly in our bed, his hands clutching the bedding, a cold sweat across his forehead. "Rochambeau… no… Alex… get back. Watch your damn back, we have wives to go home to, you have a child waiting!"

I swallow thickly, realizing he's caught up in a nightmare or perhaps memories. I take a seat at the edge of our bed and reach for his hand. He pulls away, but I reach for and grasp his hand, he quiets for a moment, and I gently call for him, bring his hand to my face, trying to coax him away from the battlefield of his nightmare and back to me.

"John… John, you're home, come back to me, love," I call out to him gently, and I press a kiss to his palm.

I watch as he begins to relax, slowly coming back. He begins to stir, his lashes flutter, and I let out a sigh of relief at his green eyes, alive with intelligence, and his cheeks flush. "Angelica?"

"Shh, it's okay. It was a nightmare. I was worried. I had to get up, and then I couldn't go back to sleep, I won't leave you to wake up alone again though," I say.

He shakes his head. "No, it's okay, you don't have to worry. It's just a bad dream, I'm okay now, I'm home."

I nod and decide he will tell me when he is ready, instead I change the subject. "I have breakfast ready. I'll leave you to clean up and dress, I would wait for you, but I'm hungry and… well."

"No, of course. Don't wait for me, go ahead enjoy it, I'll be up and out in a minute," he replies.

As I'm about to get up, he sits up and pulls me forward into a kiss, a kiss tinged with desperation, as though he is reassuring himself this is real, that he is home. When we part, he says, "I'm glad I could keep my promise to you. I'm glad I could come home to you and to this, all of this."

He then nods towards the door and lets me leave. I go to the kitchen, add a couple of biscuits to our plates, and sit down at our table. I begin with a biscuit and pick up my fork, ready to start on my eggs when John comes out and joins me. He smiles and joins me at the table.

"You didn't have to do all of this," he says.

I snort and fix him with a stern expression. "I don't know about you, but this wasn't just for you. It is called a craving. I just happened to fix you a plate."

He laughs as he takes a bite of a biscuit. "Well then, thank you for the consideration."

I laugh too, and we work our way through our meal. He asks questions about how I'm feeling, if I've experienced sickness with the baby. When we've finished eating, he insists on taking care of the dishes. I just shake my head and give in to the compromise. Once he's finished, he asks, "So, have anything planned for today?"

I pause and think for a moment, the house is clean, the laundry manageable, and it is my first day back with John. I shrug and say, "the house will keep for today. How about spending the day together? Maybe a walk through the town square, perhaps step into a few shops and browse, enjoy each other's company? We could go to my father's house to visit with Eliza, Alex, and Philip later this afternoon."

"That sounds wonderful," he says and advises me to get dressed.

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