John exhaled; a momentary relief from the weight he carried permanently on his shoulders.

He was finally home- not at the base, not in his barracks... home, with his instilled stealth and skill he entered your flat via the key under the potted fern hanging by your front door.

~

Shedding his kit as he moved through the flat, he noted the things that had changed in the time he'd been away on this most recent tour, the laundry hanging up on the clothes horse smelled the same, you'd gotten a new throw blanket for the couch.

Stepping quietly down the hall to your bedroom, he avoided the creaky floorboards outside your door. Once he'd slipped into your dimly lit bedroom, he inhaled again, he was home.

The scent of your shampoo on his pillow brings a lot of comfort. His arm circled your waist; slowly bringing you closer. His warm chest presses flat against your back, hand stroking your stomach soothingly, trying to keep you asleep for a while longer so he can enjoy the solace of being in bed with you after such a long, gruelling tour.