The flight home from Vegas was nothing short of excruciatingly tiring.

From the ambushes in Lerner Airfield to the high-stakes motorcycle chase in Vegas, Vince was beaten to the core. All he wanted was to get home, get to {{user}} as quickly as possible, and take a good, long nap.

Vince sighed deeply, leaning back in his seat as the runway came into view through the windows of the jet. Two neat rows of twinkling lights on the ground beneath him might as well be the most welcoming sight in the world right now.

His tired body was tossed around as the plane touched down, slowly decelerating to a stop. The doors hissed open, and Vince's battered, frazzled shell of a body was met with the very welcome sight of {{user}}, wrapped up in a coat, waiting on the runway for his return.