A/N: No, I didn't abandon this series, I was just working another projects - and been struggling with a minor writer's block recently. Anyway, I'm sorry for the delay, and I hope you'll enjoys this installment.

(Temporary) Goodbye

She was being clingy and mushy and painfully stereotypical, and everybody could see it, and she just didn't give a damn.

She just so didn't want him to go.

Pushing herself to the tip of her toes, she clung to him, burying her face in his neck.

"Hey, it's okay," Grant murmured into her ear, gently caressing her hair. "I'll be back before you know it."

She knew that. Of course she knew that. She knew every little aspect of the op, down to the last dot and cross, where were they going, what they were about to do, how dangerous it was (it wasn't that much, at least by their usual standards, but you never knew), but this didn't mean she was the slightest bit okay with him leaving.

She gave out some stubborn, whiny, unintelligible noise, and gripped his black tactical shirt even tighter.

"I don't care," she mumbled into his shoulder, a stubborn tear sliding down her cheek.

(She hated being like this. She hated getting teary eyed over basically everything. She hated being so damn emotional. Even if she had a pretty good excuse for it.)

He put his hand on her shoulder, and gently pushed her away, until she was standing in front of him, so he could look into her eyes. He lifted a hand and wiped a stray tear from under her eye with his thumb. She caught his wrist and held his palm against her cheek.

"Tomorrow morning. I'll be back by tomorrow morning. Maybe even before you wake up."

She sniffed.

"Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I always am."

The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Liar."

She knew all too well about his stupid, heroic, acting-before-thinking, leaping-into-the-middle-of-action, forgetting-about-the-hail-of-bullets tendencies, and that's why she liked being by his side during mission (some would say the same thing about her – that she was reckless –, which might even be true, but hey, at least they kept each other in check).

Only she couldn't do that anymore – not for a while, at least (but it was worth it).

Her free hand slid unconsciously to her stomach, resting on the slight curve.

"Everything's gonna be alright," he promised. "I'll check in frequently, I swear. You can even hack into the comms system, if you want," he said, then pressed one last kiss to her forehead.

She let out a teary chuckle, meeting his eyes.

"Alright. But if you come back dead, I'll kill you."

He didn't answer that, only smiled and kissed her quickly on the mouth while covering her hand with his over her belly, then bent down and picked up his bag with his tactical gear.

"Tomorrow," he promised, squeezing her hand before letting go.

"I'll want breakfast in bed. Pancakes," she tried to mask her sadness and worry with teasing. He got it.

"I love you," he said, then, just as the motors of the quinjet started to whirl, he turned around and hurried up the ramp.

She stood there for a while, looking at the sky with her hand still on her belly, until the jet disappeared and the hangar door closed. She knew, she just knew that he was right, that everything was going to be alright and that he would be back by the next morning. Still, she thought, turning around and leaving the hangar, it couldn't hurt to listen in on his mission.