Page 51 of Legacy's Destiny

She tilted her head, pretending to ponder the statement. “You know, you’re right. Maybe we should spend some time apart so we can catch up on our sleep.”

He shook his head slowly, his expression one of mock seriousness. “Never gonna happen.”

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. She momentarily settled her head against his chest until she said, “It will happen. I need to go back to Virginia. I’ll be handing in my resignation when we do our outbrief, but I have to be cleared and tackle a mountain of paperwork. You’ll probably head off on another mission, right?”

He shook his head again. “Nope. I just talked to Alpha—my boss. The team will be heading back to the States. We were supposed to before the CIA mission, but we’re rotating back now for R&R, training, and re-fitting.”

“Re-fitting?” She frowned slightly, unfamiliar with the term.

“New tools, new equipment, new tech gadgets.” He shrugged, his nonchalance making her grin.

“Oh, that sounds like fun. I’ve always wanted to be on the cutting edge of tech—like your comms. I love the design and nano-engineering of things like that.”

Deacon’s expression softened as he ran his thumb gently over her bottom lip. His voice dropped, a hint of vulnerability lacing his tone. “What exactly are you looking for in a new job?”

Sighing, she leaned into his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “I’m not really sure what I want to do,” she admitted. “I think I’m going to take a few months to figure it out. I’ve got two months left on my lease in Virginia, and I’m assuming the CIA will want at least a month’s notice. That way, I can train my successor and tackle all that paperwork I mentioned.”

Deacon nodded, listening intently as she continued. “I’ve saved enough to survive in Virginia for six months—if I don’t go crazy, that is. So, I think I’m just going to let myself relax while I consider what I want for my future. Does that sound selfish?” She frowned, biting her lip as she thought about it. “It does, doesn’t it? But you know what? It’s okay to be selfishsometimes, right?” She tilted her head up, looking at him with wide, questioning eyes.

Deacon smiled down at her, his lips twitching in amusement. “Did you just talk yourself all the way around that argument?”

She nodded, a small grin forming. “Yeah, I usually do.”

He shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re an amazing woman. Confusing at times, but amazing nonetheless.”

Her grin widened. “That’s always great to hear.” She tilted her head. “What about you? What do you have planned for the future?”

“Training, refitting, R&R,” he said, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. “And I was hoping to spend the R&R part with you.”

She wiggled slightly on the edge of the exam table, her smile teasing. “I’d like that. Can you come to Virginia?”

“In a fucking heartbeat.” His response was immediate, his voice low and serious. He leaned in and kissed her again, but the sound of the door opening cut them short.

Two nurses and a doctor walked in, the nurses’ cheeks pink as they avoided looking directly at the couple. Echo turned, noticing their embarrassment, and waved awkwardly, a sheepish smile on her lips.

The doctor, oblivious or indifferent to the sexual tension, barked out a series of orders in rapid-fire sentences that Echo couldn’t understand. Deacon, however, stepped forward and began conversing with the doctor, their low voices blending into the background hum of the hospital. Echo glanced between them, feeling left out of the loop as the discussion continued. Finally, the doctor scribbled something onto her chart, handed it to one of the nurses, and left the room.

Echo turned to Deacon, her brows furrowed. “What the heck just happened?”

Deacon chuckled, stepping back to her side. “He’s ordering some blood tests and scans. I think it was X-rays. Or maybe an CT. Honestly, I didn’t quite catch it all—this isn’t one of my primary languages. It’s all as a precaution because he agrees with you. If you’ve been asymptomatic for this long, you’re probably recovered.”

“See? The doctor agrees with me.” Echo sighed, her stomach grumbling loudly enough to echo in the small room. The nurse prepping the tourniquet and needle chuckled softly before speaking to Deacon. He nodded and replied, the two exchanging a few sentences while the nurse efficiently drew Echo’s blood.

“What was that about?” Echo asked, looking at Deacon as he glanced back at her.

“She wanted to know if we’d like something to eat. I told her we would appreciate anything they could scrounge up.”

Echo’s eyes brightened, and she eagerly nodded, turning back to the nurse and continuing to nod for emphasis. “Yes, please. Food. Any kind of food would be wonderful.” She paused, her expression twisting into a mock serious look. “Except MREs. I really don’t want another MRE.”

Deacon laughed and translated for the nurse, who chuckled as well. She patted Echo’s arm reassuringly before bandaging the needle site and leaving the room.

Echo was then escorted to the imaging department, Deacon trailing close behind as her translator. The cold, sterile air of the MRI room hit her immediately, sending a shiver down her spine. She lay on the narrow table, earplugs securely in place, and endured the clunking, clanging rhythm of the machine. The noise seemed to go on forever, and the room's chill seeped into her. By the time it was over, she was relieved to step back into the warmth of the hospital hallways.

A heavenly aroma wafted toward them as they returned to the small exam room. The scent of freshly cooked rice, sizzlingvegetables, and braised meats filled the air. On a small table sat two trays of food, complete with two cans of soda. Echo’s stomach growled in approval, and she let out a small, satisfied groan.

They sat side by side on the edge of the exam table, eating in comfortable silence. The food was simple but delicious, and Echo savored every bite. She didn’t usually drink soda, but she wasn’t about to complain after weeks of MRE rations.

When the plates were empty, she leaned back with a contented sigh. “I wish I could ask for seconds.”

---