"Yeah? I kinda missed it." John wasn't sure what else he could say. He'd missed a lot of other things, but wasn't trying to start anything here, before they'd talked.

"Yeah, I've got a ride waiting and everything," he said, stealing her bag by the strap and reaching for her hand under the guise of guiding her through the airport. Because it was so crowded and foreign.

"To the car I borrowed," he replied cheekily. "And then to my flat. Welcome to the United Kingdom, everyone here talks like they're Ben."

"That's right," John agreed. "But sometimes the glaring is part of the fun." He'd always enjoyed pushing the buttons of interesting people. "I can give you a tour of Mildenhall in about five minutes and then later I'll show you where I really spend my down time."

"Yes," he said teasingly, leading her away.

A couple hours or so later there'd been a tour of town accompanied by far too much talk about the which side of the road John should be driving on and then a walking tour of the base while John talked about all the different things he'd been getting to fly over the last four years and then answered all her dozens of questions on the topic. Really, they were doing very well at this whole strange meeting up thing.

After showing her around the small yet furnished flat, he'd gotten them drinks and taken a seat so the real staring could begin.

That was very direct, but it had him moving closer to her on the couch rather than farther away. "I think I've been pretty clear on how much I agree with that feeling," John added. "But I won't assume I'm the same guy you missed."

"Sounds like actual work," he said, flaring his nostrils in disgust. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"Maybe not to you," he half-teased back. "But okay, talking. So, I still like football, and not that fake stuff with actual kicking the people outside of the US watch. I'm talking real, American football with the pigskin ball."

"Honestly?" His eyes may have gone a little sad there. "I've been doing good since the transfer, but last year was kind of rough going. Doubt it compares to final battle bad stuff, but certainly not anyone's idea of fun." And definitely not John's.

She could always ask, he just might not always answer as fully as she would hope. "Well, you know how it goes. They send me on missions, I'm gone one or two or ten days and I come back. This apparently isn't something people who might live with you enjoy. Especially when you fail to bring back your best friend." It was the only way he knew how to tell her. The words 'Mitch is dead' still didn't come out of his mouth.

That was probably the best response he could've hoped for and now intended to not actually let her go. The words seemed to just keep coming once they'd started. "Yeah, so then a few months later getting shot down and stranded in the desert was fun, too. Especially coming home to an empty place. So I'd say I like this new command better. Got a promotion out of it, too."

"It doesn't matter now," he said, leaning back just enough to look at her. "There's no changing things that happened."