"The trial is over."

As soon as the judge's gavel hit the wooden stand, you immediately took off and rushed out of the courtroom. The heels you put on this morning didn't bother your movements in any way, and you quickly swept across the tiled floors of the courtroom, hearing clicking sounds, straight to the parking lot. You started your car in record seconds and headed to the other side of the city.

You had an important task. Get there before the army bus leaves.

Being a soldier's wife wasn't easy, especially considering Simon's specialty. His deployments weren't regular, one night he could sleep peacefully in your arms, tickling your neck with his stubble, and in the morning he would pack his things, heading for a new mission.

It was hard. And he understood that. That's why he had no doubt that you were the one, and proposed right away, the day he returned from a six-month mission.

But your profession wasn't the easiest in terms of workload either. You were a lawyer, and you were successful enough to choose which clients you would take on next, and delegate a lot of responsibilities to your team. Because you also valued your marriage, and you wanted to spend time with Simon, not just in your home office, locked in there until nightfall, until he literally dragged you into the bedroom, unable to sleep without you.

This mission was going to be a long one, too.

"Three months at least, luv. Can't tell ya more."

And you promised that you would be there, that you would say goodbye, as you always did. And to hell with possible speeding tickets, right now you were pushing on the gas as hard as your shoes would let you.

He was standing near the bus, his bag slung over his shoulder. Almost everything had already been loaded into the baggage area, and Price was finishing his last cigar before they all boarded the bus and left. You promised to come, but he remembered that the trial was delayed, as you wrote to him in the message.

But you still came.

Johnny raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking behind Simon's back, and when he turned around, he saw you, in your formal suit, running on your heels on the gravel. To him, through the base, with a guard shouting after you.

Simon took a few steps towards to meet you, and caught you in his arms, immediately clasping his hands on your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face against the fabric of his balaclava around his neck.

You made it. For him. For yourself.