The admission is treasured and caressed; the words had never sounded so sweet as they did at this moment and she files that memory away to cherish and keep with her until the end of her days. Sometimes she did that, when she was all alone and at her lowest point. Thinking he would never return back to her, never come home to her, that he had forgotten about his Gipsy Danger -- those were the days that were the worst, and the ones that she pulled back into her memories, searching frantically for those stolen, saved moments she had treasured from the Becket brothers - her only pilots.

Thank you.

For everything. For his unconditional love, for his return, for simply being him.

Who?

She had known this was coming; the moment he had stepped into her conn-pod the other day, Gipsy had known. She, like he had told her, had mixed feelings -- but this wasn't replacing Yancy. She understood that now.

She understood a lot now.

And so, she waits for his answer, tendrils of affection still sweeping over his consciousness, prodding at his memories, nosing through the stream.