She had stopped crying.

He wasn't sure when but the embrace held for what seemed like forever. Maybe it was. If that were the case, he was certainly good with it.

Gillian moved her face from the crook of his neck, gazing up at him, studying intently. She appeared as if she were trying to figure something out. He wondered if it was still the quandary they both were lost in or something new.

It happened quickly but it didn't surprise him. He was learning to go with it. Go with the flow. It was very Taoist of him but events left him in that uncontrolled frame of mind. When one fights too hard, it simply means it wasn't meant to be and it was time to move on.

She clasped his cheeks, not reacting to the feel of her burned fingers in his beard.

Cal winced for her instead. It had to hurt.

The sudden movement of her hands on his face slowed. Gently, she brought him down closer to her and explored his forehead with her lips, followed closely with a press to each eyelid. She trailed his scar with her fingertips before tracing it with her mouth.

His eyes followed every motion but he remained immobile, waiting.

She kissed each cheek, her grasp firm but tender and then stilled. Her eyes closed and she pulled in a long breath, her chest pushing against his. He thought he felt her heartbeat.

"You're really home." Her voice was wispy but held a burgeoning certainty.

So many details. Her fair complexion peppered with adorable freckles. The strands of chestnut laced with minute silver bobbing in front of her face when she exhaled. The slight chapping of her lips. The aroma of coffee on her breath mingling with the smell of burnt breakfast somewhere on the periphery.

Was he really home?

Gillian's eyes opened. They seemed even bluer now. Hands still firm, she kissed the divot beneath his nose, his upper lip, lower lip, hovered before him, waiting. She'd been waiting a very long time.

So had he.

One hand settled on her waist, ribbed cotton beneath his fingers. She still wore a tank top. The other flicked up to the side of her neck, his thumb brushing over her pulse point. It drummed, excited under his touch. Her body remembered. His fingers tightened ever so slightly at the nape of her neck.

He tilted his forehead down to connect with hers, inhaling all of her, all the familiarity but also a touch of rediscovery. His lips brushed to hers in the barest of kisses, the barest of connections. Angling downward, he ran lips lightly across her throat. She shuddered and moved her head back to expose more flesh.

He tasted the sweet saltiness of her but detected an underlying bitterness. Probably from soap. Bitterness. Not something a delusional mind would take note of.

Cal pulled back sharply to gaze at her face. Sudden fear. Fear of him vanishing? As he observed, the fear melted away, replaced by hope hinging on excitement.

Relief and joy washed through him in equal parts. This wasn't a hallucination and he wasn't dead. There was no way. Not with bitterness and fear. They were too concrete in the real world.

All the darkness, all the fear, all the uncertainty shifted and contorted to the here and now. She didn't disappear is a dream haze or pain induced hallucination. Solid warmth lined up with him. Perfect as it always was, even before they'd known their true fit.

Her gasp of surprise reached his ears when he melded his lips with hers.

Her hands left his cheeks and clasped behind his neck. "I've missed you so much!" It was a barely a whispered sob against his kiss, quickly dissolving within.

He caressed her waist, her top riding up, the supple skin under his fingers making him tingle inside. The tingle blossomed to a surge of heat shooting through his veins. He'd missed her so bloody much. There were no words, only raw and open emotion as his embrace tightened, bringing her as close as possible, leaving no gaps.

Profound hunger made him want to absorb her all when his mouth continued to explore hers intensely. He couldn't hold back any longer. The thread snapped and he needed every part of her. With strength he hadn't felt in months, he picked her up and moved from the kitchen, burnt breakfast forgotten.

Cal awoke, warm, comfortable, spooning behind a solid figure who no longer existed in the realm of dreams.

He kissed the bare flesh of Gillian's shoulder and smiled at the purred response.

He was back. There was so much to do. He planned to hit the ground running. But first things first. Today was a big day, but there was time.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, he confirmed his instincts.

Yep, there was plenty of time.

Kissing the shoulder again, he grinned when Gillian rolled over into his arms. One soft hand stroked his smooth cheek, her eyes glowing softly in the early morning light.

After a shared shower the previous evening, he'd allowed her to shave his beard. It felt good, as if the last seven months had been stripped away in so simple an action. Neither was quite so naïve to completely believe that but it was a good start. He'd also given her the green light to cut his hair but she'd cringed and passed on the opportunity to scalp him. It was probably for the best.

They made love again, the passion from the previous evening now slowing to a gentle and tender reaffirmation. Exploration had become new again and both reveled in it.

Without a word, he assisted her with dishes while the second hand crept forward.

It was almost time and everything inside him vibrated with happiness and excitement but nerves tempered the race of his heart. Seven months. Not a lifetime but long enough for huge changes.

Gillian found many excuses to touch him. Brushing past to reach a cabinet, leaning forward to grab the salt from the table, sliding her hand into his and giving it a squeeze, caressing his forearms as he grappled with the urge to make love to her again.

But there wasn't time.

He'd grouse and Gillian would giggle. It was a fake grouse though. Mostly.

When the doorbell chimed, Cal startled, eyes widening, finding Gill's encouraging smile. It would all be okay.

He could feel the breezing of her hand against his elbow when he took a breath, stepped forward and pulled the door toward him. The next breath didn't come.

Red-rimmed dark eyes stared up at him. "Oh my God, Dad. Is it really you?"

His smile wasn't strained. It hadn't been since the previous evening. "Yeah, darlin'. It's me."

His daughter slid into his arms without hesitation while the love of his life stood near, sharing her strength and limitless warmth.

The ledge retreated to some small speck in the back of their minds. It waited but they now knew the trip forward would never be a solitary one.

Hope you enjoyed. Thank you all for your comments and support.