Disclaimer: See part 1 -- nothing's changed!

With grateful thanks to Gamine for patiently picking out the nits, Cmar for making my formatting easier (!!) and to Kahva just because.

Many apologies over the length of time you've been hanging; a mini case of writer's block struck roughly fifteen paragraphs from the end.

~*~

Chung-Hee's threat hung on the air for several moments. Everyone froze. Taylor looked as if she'd like to fight back, but the way Chung-Hee had her by the throat with one hand while the other most effectively pinioned her arms prevented that.

"You're a walking cliché," Eric muttered sotto voce.

"Good -- real good." Chung-Hee started to force Taylor backwards, towards the chopper. "Now put the gun down."

Slowly, Eric bent to set the gun down, sizing up the distance. There was no way he could cross the distance before Chung-Hee could make good the threat. He couldn't... But there was something that could.

In one, fluid move, Eric straightened, drawing the hidden knife from its sheath and throwing it straight at the Korean's head. It lodged in the Korean's throat, a look of complete and utter astonishment forever frozen on his face.

Now it was over.

~*~

The wrap up took most of the night. Mendez needed medical treatment -- Peterson was insistent that the Hispanic doctor was going to come back to the US to face treason charges -- as did Peterson. Someone -- Taylor, Eric thought later, though he wasn't entirely clear as most of the night merged into one long blur of adrenaline 'come down' -- asked him why he'd broken Peterson's knee.

"Two reasons," he had answered. "Firstly because I needed one injury that was demonstrable -- in case they didn't buy the rest of it. Secondly, because it's a hell of a lot easier to stand like Frank'd been chained if you've got a damaged leg than it is with a damaged arm." Whoever it was had asked for clarification of the second. All Eric had said was, "Personal experience." The speaker had left it at that.

Then there was the medical complex beneath the house that needed to be gone through. Peterson would have a team in first thing the following day to really take the place apart, but he needed a first look. And that was when they found the first of the bodies. It seemed as if some of Peterson's worst fears about tmazacol -- that it was ultimately lethal -- were true. And from the look of some of the bodies, from a part of the facility that Chung-Hee had very carefully not shown to Eric, it had been a messy and gruesome death.

Maybe Peterson was right to want this shut down before it got out, Eric found himself thinking, though there was no way in hell he was ever going to tell Peterson that!

The other prisoners, led by 'George', materialised from the jungle somewhere around three o'clock in the morning, presumably deciding it was now safe. Peterson greeted 'George' with: "Paul -- damn good to see you in one piece."

'George' -- Paul's response had been, to Eric's tired mind, somewhat amusingly wry. "Yeah -- one piece apart from the bruises."

There had been formal introductions at that point -- and then things really started to blur. It dimly dawned on Eric he was well into his third day without sleep -- and that probably explained a few things. Then came an even dimmer realisation that someone was gently forcing him to lie down on one of the unused beds in the house. He didn't put up too much of a fight -- even suspecting nightmares would probably wreck it, sleep was just too inviting.

~*~

Kimberly had just covered hands, pastry board and rolling pin with flour when the phone rang. Someone's timing really, really stinks, she groused.

"Alice -- can you answer the phone for me?" she called, starting to rinse off her hands.

"'Kay!" Alice answered.

There was a scurry as Kimberly dried off her hands and the ringing cut, closely followed by Alice carefully saying, "Myers house, who's calling please?" There was a pause. Then, "Mom!"

"I'm coming," Kimberly answered, heading towards the phone. Alice looked excited. "Who is it, sweetheart?"

"Taylor," she answered. "She says it's about dad!"

Small wonder Alice looked excited. Kimberly suddenly found herself terrified. Why was Taylor calling about Eric? Why wasn't Eric calling about Eric? What if...

"Kim?" Taylor's voice was something of a surprise. Obviously somewhere between reaching Alice and starting to panic she'd taken the receiver and put it to her ear, but she had no memory of that.

"Yes -- what..." But Kimberly suddenly found she couldn't speak.

Taylor, for her part gave a sympathetic chuckle. "To answer your questions in reverse order..." Damn, she'd panicked aloud? A glance at Alice, who was standing beside her hopping from foot to foot in excitement, told her she hadn't, which meant Taylor was guessing. "'What if' didn't happen. Eric's not calling because he's currently out like a light -- I don't entirely follow the whys of that one, but Hana said something about him not sleeping properly the whole time he's been here and last night was a hell of a fight so... The reason I am calling, though, is to tell you he's safe, sound and aside from some cuts and bruises completely in one piece." Taylor paused. "Hana seemed to think you'd find that significant."

"It's what he promised," said Kimberly softly. "Everything's over?"

"He'll be home in the next forty-eight hours," Taylor promised.

He was coming home! Kimberly realised she was crying.

"Mommy?" Alice looked alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Kim -- y'ok?" Taylor asked.

"Yeah." Kimberly swallowed. "Yeah -- I will be. I'm just...relieved." To Alice, she said, "Nothing's wrong, honey."

Taylor chuckled. "I'll leave you to explain to Alice."

"Thanks -- thank you, Taylor."

"Any time, Kim. Oh, one other thing," she added. "You might be pleased to know your husband put Peterson on crutches."

That raised a laugh from Kimberly. "I'll have to ask him when I see him."

"Do -- it's quite a story; though I only got it semi-incoherently."

With that, Taylor hung up.

"Mommy?" asked Alice. "If nothing's wrong, why are you crying?"

Kimberly smiled at her daughter. "Sometimes," she said, "when people are really, really happy, they cry."

"And you're really, really happy?"

Kimberly nodded. "Daddy's gonna be home for Christmas."

Alice's answering whoop of delight told the whole story.

~*~

It was early afternoon before Eric finally woke from a surprisingly dreamless sleep. Must have been more wiped than I figured, he realised. Then he tried to move. Damn! That hurts.

"Easy," said a voice. "You've got a lot of cuts on your back and on the soles of your feet."

Eric blinked and found himself looking up at 'George'. No, wait, Paul. "Broken glass'll do that to you." He swallowed. "Is this the point where you slug me for..."

Paul shook his head and smiled. "No, this is the point where I tell you no hard feelings. I was the one who screwed up and got myself into that cell. You were doing your job -- and 'fraid Hana's been telling tales."

"That figures." But somehow, Eric was relieved to know that Paul knew what the interrogation had cost him. Slowly, and wincing with every movement, he rolled over to sit up. "So what's happening today?"

"Frank's doing clear up and clear down stuff," said Paul. "The lady chopper jockey is sleeping, Hana's asleep... I think you guys are probably heading out tonight."

Eric nodded. "Sooner the better."

Paul grinned. "There's a sentiment I'm not gonna argue with."

~*~

It was nearly midnight before things were finally settled. Frank's Korean counterpart, with whom most of this operation had been arranged in the first place, had arrived to take over securing the scene and to take over custody of Mendez while extradition proceedings were taken care of. He brought with him facility for refuelling of the chopper -- Airwolf as Eric now knew it was called, and a more apt name he couldn't think of.

Eric watched the process, willing it to go faster. Now that it was all done, he just wanted to go home. Finally, Taylor signalled it was finished and she started her walk around check, making sure Airwolf was ready and safe to fly. It was.

"Everyone get their asses on board," she called, suiting action to words and climbing in herself.

Peterson, as helped by Paul, climbed in. Paul himself would be going home the following day by some other means -- Eric hadn't enquired too closely. Eric moved to follow, but Hana stopped him.

"Wha...?" But Eric found himself silenced as Hana placed a finger against his lips.

"I just wanted to say," she said softly, "that there's only one thing I wish had been different about this mission." Eric lifted his eyebrows. "That you hadn't been married." Hana smiled faintly. "Your wife's a very lucky woman, Eric. Very lucky."

It was only after she'd climbed into Airwolf's rear cabin that it dawned on Eric just what she meant.

He smiled faintly and shook his head. And maybe in another time and place Hana would have been more than a friend. 'What ifs' of that kind weren't something he wanted to spend time wondering about -- what was waiting for him at home was what he wanted here and now. Time to go home.

~*~

Kimberly lay in bed. It was seven o'clock. Wes and Jen were coming over with Rick and Max so as to help out with getting the house ready for Christmas -- and for Eric's return -- and they'd be here some time after nine o'clock. She ought to get up -- and make sure Alice was up -- but she stayed where she was.

For the first time in a week, she wasn't worried about Eric. Kimberly smiled, still cuddling the pillow -- she'd finally worked out what it was about the pillow she liked so much. It was Eric's pillow. She could smell him on it. Soon she'd have him back. Properly. Somehow that seemed to be the best Christmas present she could have.

Just five minutes more...

~*~

Taylor watched Eric out of the corner of her eye as she piloted Airwolf across the wide expanse that was the Pacific Ocean. The only seat left in Airwolf was the co-pilot's seat, which he'd taken with a faint, wry smile.

"You arranged that on purpose," he'd said.

"In your dreams, Jarhead," she'd replied.

The truth was, though, she did want to talk to him. She just didn't know what to say. Thank you seemed somehow inadequate, given he had very literally saved her life. It had all happened so fast -- too fast for her to react. In her mind, she could see what she should have done; training that should have kicked in. She shouldn't have needed saving. And yet she had. And he'd done it.

"If you think any louder I'm gonna need ear plugs."

Taylor glanced fully in Eric's direction to catch the part wry part amused expression she'd seen way too many times on his face in the last year. "Knock it off -- or you'll find yourself floating home." But she didn't mean it -- and irritatingly, he seemed to know that.

All he said was, "Sure." There was a pause. "Thanks -- for speaking to Kim."

Ah. Neutral ground. "No worries. I dropped in to see her, between ferry rides -- figured Peterson had probably been economic with the truth as to what you were doing." His eyebrows lifted. "I know Peterson's methods, remember?"

"True."

"Speaking of Peterson," Taylor continued, "were you gonna tell me the guy's your dad?"

There was an audible wince. "Wasn't planning to."

"Guess you guys don't get on so good, huh?"

Eric snorted. "And understatement of the year 2003." He sighed. "It's complicated."

It was Taylor's turn to snort. "Speaking of understatements."

"Yeah, well." There was a long moment of hesitation. "You've probably known Peterson almost as long as I have."

"Ouch." Taylor winced.

Eric seemed to be expansive mood. "Heck, for all the relationship we actually have, he probably cares more about you than me. You can fly this. Me...all I do is hit things."

"Oh, he cares," Taylor countered. "Why do you think he wound up in the compound?"

There was something of a stiff shrug. "Not a clue. It was a dumb thing to do, whatever the reason."

"You."

"Me?" Eric chuckled dryly. "Right."

"I'm serious." Taylor sighed. "I'll grant you, he's got a weird way of showing it, but I think he does care."

"Uh-huh."

Taylor debated whether to mention the photograph and the real sadness in Peterson's expression that she'd caught before she'd revealed her presence, but a glance at Eric suggested that information wouldn't be an entirely welcome revelation. Instead, she said, "Y'know...about Kim."

"Hm?"

"Figured I owed you one." Taylor was grateful she needed to keep most of her attention on her flight instruments because she was fairly sure Eric was now staring at her. "For...y'know."

"Oh." Was that embarrassment she could hear in his voice? "Y'know if someone had learned to obey commands when they were given instead of arguing about them it wouldn't have happened."

At that, Taylor chuckled. You're a fraud, Eric. "Yeah, yeah, Jarhead."

~*~

It was the smell of fresh toast and orange juice that finally woke Kimberly. For a few seconds, she thought Eric had come over all romantic and was making her breakfast in bed. Then she remembered that Eric's idea of toast tended to smell more strongly of charcoal than this -- and he wasn't back yet. Her eyes snapped open at that. Was Alice making her breakfast?

There was a gentle tap on the bedroom door, then, "Kim?"

Jen? What the hell?

"Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah -- sure." Even as she said it, Kimberly started to carefully shift in bed until she was sitting up.

Jen entered the room carrying a breakfast tray. "Fixed you some food," she said, offering a smile.

Kimberly blinked. "Um, thanks...um...?"

Jen's smile widened a little bit as she set the tray down. "Alice let us in -- she said you were asleep. We knew you hadn't been sleeping too well so we decided to let you sleep. Wes took Rick, Max and Alice to the park; I took care of some of the chores we were gonna do this morning."

"You didn't have..." Kimberly began.

Jen shook her head and gestured towards the tray. "Eat." Under Jen's gaze, Kimberly found herself obeying. "As for 'not having'," Jen continued smiling, "no, we didn't. But we have."

~*~

Eric watched the ocean flash by beneath them through the cockpit window. If he looked ahead, he could see a faint, dark smudge on the horizon. That was the West Coast, though it was still an hour away. Nearly home. Vaguely he wondered what time it was in Silverhills, but the assorted time zone changes made his eyes cross -- and then there was the small issue of having crossed the International Date Line. He smiled faintly as he realised he wasn't entirely sure what day it was, never mind the time!

"You know that Peterson's not gonna let you go straight home?"

"Hm?" Blinking, Eric shifted his gaze to look at Taylor. "What?"

"Debriefing and shit," said Taylor. "Gotta be done."

Eric sighed. "That figures." Then he smiled. "One thing, though."

"Oh?"

"You might wanna come with me and Hana when we collect our things."

"Oh?" Taylor repeated. "Why would I wanna do that?"

Eric chuckled. "Put it this way -- should be a little bit of fun." He thought of Naomi's parting shot. Perhaps he was glad Hana had opted not to remind the assistant that he understood English.

~*~

Kimberly felt totally -- and guiltily -- spoiled.

Jen had taken care of all her laundry, had tidied up and had done the vacuuming before she'd taken the breakfast tray up to Kimberly. Then, once Kimberly had got up, Jen and Wes had carefully bundled her up and they had taken her -- and Alice, and Rick -- out for an afternoon. They had gone up into the hills that gave Silverhills its name. Up into the snowy heights.

Alice was over the moon with the novelty of snow. Kimberly just enjoyed the time to relax.

She now looked at Jen, over a steaming cup of hot chocolate back in her own kitchen and asked the only question: "Why?"

Jen grinned. "You needed the break," she pointed out. "I'm just sorry that I couldn't have helped more."

"You didn't...don't..."

"Kim," said Jen softly. "You and Eric are as much a part of my family here as Wes, Rick and Alexander."

~*~

The landing was text book, and even if it was the apron at Knightsbridge, Eric was more than grateful to know that he was back in the USA.

"If you and Eric collect your things," Peterson said to Hana, as they crossed the tarmac, "then come up to my office."

Guess that does mean we're debriefing now, Eric decided, grimacing, even as Hana nodded.

"Taylor," Peterson continued.

"I'm goin' with Eric, if that's OK," Taylor said before Peterson could say any more and in a tone of voice that pretty much insisted she was doing it anyway, regardless of what Peterson had to say about it. "Got something of his to give back."

Peterson smiled. "All I was going to say was can you be in my office when Hana and Eric get there, please. If you're with them, so much the better."

"Oh." Taylor shrugged. "OK."

With that, Peterson headed off in the direction of his office, crutches clacking noisily.

Hana cleared her throat. "Well," she said, "shall we collect our things?"

It was a good suggestion, and a moment or two later, the trio were entered the wardrobe department. Naomi offered them a beaming smile, and to Hana, she said, "Hana! How'd it go?"

"Fine."

Not the word I'd have used, Eric mused.

"Good." Naomi glanced at Eric. "How was the hottie?"

Taylor choked.

"The 'hottie'," said Eric, smiling, "firstly understands English, and secondly is very married -- and it's not to Hana."

Taylor choked again, this time with laughter, as Naomi blanched.

"You...understood...?"

"Every word."

"Just..." Naomi paled even further. "Even...the...about..."

"Yes," said Eric unmercifully. "Particularly the comment about my 'rear view'."

"Just kill me now."

"How about," said Hana, "you go get our things?"

Naomi went, still shaking her head and muttering in embarrassment.

"That," Hana continued, "was mean."

Eric snorted. "Like you weren't expecting me to do that."

Hana grinned. "Touché."

"I now see why you said it would be fun," Taylor commented. "How the heck did that arise?"

"By the time we came here," Hana explained, "Eric was supposed to be 'in character' -- or half way in character. Speaking only Cantonese but understanding English."

"I see." Taylor chuckled. "Kim's gonna get such a kick out of this."

Hana lifted her eyebrows. "You're going to tell her?"

"Sure," said Eric. "She likes to have stuff she can tease me over."

At that moment, Naomi returned, still looking pale and carrying a small pile of clothing. "You know where the changing rooms are."

Gratefully, Eric accepted his pile of clothing. It was definitely be good to get back into his own clothes, he decided as he got changed. They mightn't be top of the range or tailor made, but they were comfortable -- and more to the point, they made him feel more like himself.

Taylor was still chuckling when he returned. Of Naomi, there was no sign.

"That looks much more like you," she commented.

"Thanks, I think," Eric replied.

From a pocket in her flight suit, she produced his wedding band and handed it over. "Figure you'd like this back now."

"Thanks." Eric slipped it back on. The weight was comforting, and it really did make him feel as if this was all over.

Hana reappeared, dressed in the business suit she'd been wearing the first time he'd met her. "Well -- next stop, Wallace's lab so that you can get rid of the latex on your hands, then Peterson's office."

"Latex?" Taylor queried as they followed Hana out of the wardrobe department. For answer, Eric held out his hands, palm up. "Ew!"

"They could hardly have me going around leaving Eric Myers' fingerprints," Eric pointed out.

"Good point." Taylor shook her head. "Looks weird, though."

Eric snorted. "Try watching it being applied."

The conversation paused at that point as the trio entered the lab. Wallace -- if that was the scientist's name -- was waiting, with a bottle of solvent.

"This will take about ten minutes," Wallace explained. "You first need to apply the solvent. It dissolves the latex, then you need to rinse your hands off -- to remove the residue. After that, a proper wash with antibacterial soap."

Eric sat down where Wallace indicated with his hands over a sink, presumably so as to avoid making a mess on the lab bench. He slipped off his wedding band -- not wanting to get latex residue on it -- and applied the solvent. This can't possibly itch as much as applying the stuff in the first place.

He soon found out he was wrong. The solvent stank, and the sensation of the latex dissolving was far more irritating than it had been when it had dried. The only consolation was that as the time ticked down, the itching did ease off. All the same, rinsing the residue off under the tap brought a definite sense of relief.

"That," Taylor commented as Eric started to wash his hands with the soap Wallace had produced, "looked thoroughly gross."

Eric snorted. "Try it some time."

"I thought..." Wallace began.

"It's a long story," said Hana, smiling.

Wallace rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It always is." To Eric, he asked, "Done?"

Eric rinsed off the soap. "Yeah." Wallace nodded and produced a towel. "Thanks." He dried his hands and replaced his wedding band.

"We done here?" Hana asked.

"Unless you want to be guinea pigs for my latest invention," said Wallace, "I would say so."

"Think we'll pass on that, thanks." Hana grinned.

"That figures."

Hana laughed. "C'mon," she said to Eric and Taylor. "Peterson's waiting."

Oh joy. Eric sighed and resignedly followed Hana.

"It could be worse," Taylor commented. "At least you're in the right country now."

"I'm trying to remind myself of that," Eric answered.

Hana, oddly, just chuckled some more. A moment or two later and they arrived at Peterson's office, where Peterson was just putting down the telephone receiver.

"OK?" he enquired.

The question seemed to be generic. Hana nodded -- and that seemed enough of an answer for Peterson.

"Taylor," Peterson began, "does Airwolf have enough fuel to do a pit-stop at Silverhills Municipal Airport en route to the Lair?"

Eric blinked, slightly puzzled by the question.

Taylor nodded. "More than enough."

"Good." Peterson turned his attention firmly to Eric. "Go home."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me," said Peterson. "Go home. Any information I need before the New Year I can get from Hana. As long as you're available sometime in early January for a proper debriefing," at which, Eric found himself nodding in a slightly stunned fashion, "there's no reason for you to stay away from your family any longer. I've spoken to Ben at SGHQ -- he's agreed to meet you at the municipal airport and actually take you home; Taylor will fly you up there...you can be home within the next hour."

Eric blinked again. "Why?"

Peterson smiled faintly. "Because I figure I've wrecked enough of your Christmases without wrecking Alice and Kim's too."

TO BE CONCLUDED...