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"Now boarding passengers in rows six through twenty-five. I repeat, we are now boarding passengers seated in rows six through twenty-five."
"Come on, sweetie," Lance urged his wife up onto her feet. "That's us."
"Lance, I don't want to go," she answered quietly even as she followed him to the terminal gate, her hand trembling and icy in his. "I can't help this awful feeling like one of us isn't going to make it back."
Lance showed the flight attendant their tickets and walked on, all the while holding Jamie's hand gently in his. "Come on now," he said in a reassuring tone. "We've still got training to go through. With any luck, you and I will flunk out and be forced to miss the whole war entirely."
"Lance, this isn't a joking matter," she frowned.
"I know, I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry. But your mentioning such a premonition isn't making me feel any better either. I know it's not funny, but sometimes I can't help but think this is all some strange and twisted joke."
"Tell that to the people who are fighting already and losing their lives because of it."
"People are going to die anyway."
"And that's supposed to make it all better?"
"No, of course not," Lance defended, shaking his head. "It's just… I don't know. It's just not sinking in yet on some level."
Jamie silently agreed and took her seat next to the window. Lance sat down only a moment later, and instantly, their hands grasped each other's for comfort.
Ever since the news had come to the couple two days before, any sort of separation had been practically unbearable. The two had needed each other's touch, to hear each other's voice as much as they needed food and water to survive – they needed the physical reminders to know that this wasn't a dream.
And remind themselves that neither was alone.
Two days had hardly been enough time to get everything done. Phone calls to family and friends had lasted forever as tears were cried and good-byes were made. Arrangements had to be made for one of Jamie's friends to come by and check on the house once in awhile and to get the mail, seeing as he was the closest friend they had living nearby. Companies had to be called to have their services cut off until they returned… And who knew when that would be?
"The point is that we're together right now," he said, tightening his grip on his wife's hand as they boarded the plane.
"Yeah. I suppose you're right. As long as we're together, nothing else matters, right?" she looked up into his eyes, needing his reassuring gaze.
"Exactly," he affirmed. A short silence fell upon them when they realized that flight attendants were signaling for everyone's attention as they went over the emergency procedures. By the time the presentation was over, they were already high up in the clouds and the earth below was becoming a swirl of browns and greens.
"Have you heard from the guys?" she asked after a few minutes of silence had lapsed.
"From Justin and them?" he glanced over. "Yeah. I talked with all of them again last night. It was good." He smiled a little. "Some things just never change."
"Does that mean you guys will finally head back to the studio after all this is said and done?" she teased.
"Oh, I don't know about that. Why gamble on something that has done us well in the past? Our luck may have run out."
"Don't talk about luck, Lance. You guys have talent. That's worth more than luck any day."
"True, but how would you explain me finding the most beatufiul woman in the world to share my life with?"
Jamie blushed a little. "Fate, love. We were meant to be."
Lance squeezed his wife's hand lightly. Words weren't needed at this moment. Right now, just sitting next to each other, her head on his shoulder and his head resting lightly on top of hers… It was enough.