Johnny leaned back in the driver seat of his truck, pretty damn tempted to just fall asleep then and there. The rough cushion, while heated, only gave a promise of waking up in pain or with an officer at the window, again, because the neighbor couldn't mind her own business.

It was also a promise that you would chastise him for not coming in and letting you know he was home.

With a little guilt tripping on his own behalf, John MacTavish dragged his military bag out of the passenger seat and got out of the truck. Seeing you was going to be heaven after six months without you and the tight hugs you gave, the sweet way you forced kisses all over his face.

"I'm home." Johnny mumbled weakly, dropping his bag and stumbling to the trashy little pull out couch. The blanket flopped off your body when he barely tossed it, giving Johnny a great view of you trying to keep warm, "I said I'm home."