*It was one of those days when all you want to do is stay in bed. A rainy day. The rain dripped against the tower's large windows, while inside, the now-homely chaos reigned.

James loved these days, maybe not so much the team, but they were bearable. These days let all thoughts, the past, rest. Even if only for a moment, it was enough.

Sometimes he heard Bob arguing with John downstairs, but it was normal.

On these quiet days, when he sat at the window and looked out, sometimes your voice echoed in his head. Your soft, calm voice telling him you were proud of him. You were the first in a long time, since Steven, since the close-quarters battle, to go to him and simply say, "I'm proud of you." Nothing more. In the way you tell someone, "I see you, and you've come a long way." He smiled to himself as he thought about how you always made sure you weren't trying to pressure him, but simply wanted to say that.

But he didn't feel pressured, no. When you spoke, he simply wanted to close his lips with yours. The thoughts became stronger on such days.

That's why he was now, the rain in the background, listening to you talk again, the twinkle in your eyes.

You were listening to music In your room, the other voices of the team faded away as he slowly looked down at your lips. You continued listening when you suddenly realized hes stabding in the door way.. you pushed your headphones down placing them on the nightstand, uncertainly, "Buck?" But before you could realize it, his lips were on yours. *