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	How many times did Jackson Drake dream of being in this position? Too many to count. In the last five years, he at least dreamed of being under Ash and her being on top of him once a week. 

	Over half of a decade, that was several hundred times. In all of those times, he told her that three-word phrase that often signified how much he cared for her. In all of those times, he would brush her raven locks behind her ear, look deep into those chocolate orbs that he could get lost in - those orbs that were like a sea of sweetened, melted cocoa - and he wouldn’t mind getting a little sticky. In those times, he said those three words that every woman wanted to hear…

	“[color=crimson]I..can’t..breathe..[/color]” No, not those words, but Jackson couldn’t find the other three words that he wanted to say. I love you they were, but Jackson couldn’t say them. Not that he didn’t feel them being right, but with the pressure in his groin area, there was no other choice of words to say. He needed Ash to allow him some reprieve. He loved this girl, but any longer, and he was going to pass out. Plus, he wanted to be conscious when she yelled at him. There was something strangely hot about that.

	Except she didn’t yell at him. She didn’t even raise her voice at him. She spoke to him as she usually did when he fucked up. It wasn’t raised, but there was something equally intimidating about it. She always had a way about her that made people listen with a fear setting in their minds that she was either about to calmly threaten them, or flat out deck them for something they did. Nine times out of ten, they deserved it. The other one time was undecided by Ash. So, essentially, ten times out of ten, someone was either going to get decked or get a firm, not-so-subtle threat. 

	In Jackson’s case, he was seemingly in store for a threat. 

	[color=crimson][i]Oh boy..[/i][/color]

	Jackson prayed for the worst, but he didn’t get what he expected. She said his name. Oh how he longed to finally hear her say his name. Just like those nights he dreamt of telling her how much he loved her, he heard her say his name just as much, followed by “I love you too.” What he would have done to hear those words come from her mouth again, to hear that motherly tone of hers to say that she loved him too. It was still in his dreams because he wouldn’t get it - only questions: why was she here? Did they do anything? Why was he in LA? - all those questions were understandable. and he would answer them. He was about to, but Jackson couldn’t. There was something in her words that followed that felt familiar.

	“Don’t cry, please,” Jackson reached up. Though still pinned by her mercy, Jackson still had use of his hands. His slender index finger reached up to her eyes, and wiped away the tears that were coming. In that moment that he did, he savored it. This moment was just like in the infirmary all those years ago at Camp Liberty. She was a wreck and he was there, as serious as he could be, and comforted her. She needed him then, and maybe she needed him now. Or maybe Jackson was the cause of this sorrow. Fuck, he was. She’s engaged or otherwise, and she was probably thinking the worst right now. JAckson loved her too much to keep her thinking that. He loved her too much to see her in this amount of pain.

	“[color=crimson]Ash, I,[/color]” Jackson paused briefly to hear her say those last words: why now Jackson? As he heard those words, it hit him just like a right straight in the jaw. She still loved him. Or the idea of him here, but was absolutely terrified. No one understood her better than he did, and he saw that this was tearing her up inside. The woman that he loved more than anything was in pain because of him. 

	[color=crimson][i]Fuck.[/i][/color] Jackson couldn’t tell her the [i]real[/i] reason he came back. He couldn’t tell her that he came back to get HER back. He couldn’t say that he forsaked the life he had in Seattle with Adielle to get the one that got away back. He couldn’t tell her that the MMA thing was just something to help him get there. No, JAckson wasn't that selfish anymore. He wasn’t the guy that would think of himself above others. Even if it would be easier for him to tell Ash why he was really here, he couldn’t. Well, at least he couldn’t tell her the [i]entire[/i] reason.

	“[color=crimson]I’m here for a job.[/color]” Jackson wasn’t lying. “[color=crimson]I got a ride from Adi. I’ve been here for a few weeks now. This is my apartment, and I am working for a Mixed Martial Arts promotion. It’s no Bellator or UFC, but it’s an established and recognized one based out of Santa Monica. As for last night,[/color]” JAckson let out as big of a sigh as he possibly could, “[color=crimson]I found you passed out at that park bench, and I took you here so you could sleep it off. Yes, I did undress you. As wonderful as it was seeing that body again--[/color]”Jackson briefly paused. He was going to pay for that.” [color=crimson]--nothing happened. I don’t know who that tall guy was back at your house was, but I’m assuming he’s your lover or some shit, right?[/color]” Jackson wa saying a lot for a guy who was near  getting his poor soldiers crushed. “[color=crimson]Well, anyway, you don’t have to worry about betraying the bastard. I slept on this fine couch we’re on right now. Not ideal, but better than waking up to find me on the bed, right?[/color]” Jackson sighed.

	As he attempted to free himself, he realized it was in vain. So he sighed again, and looked up at her. “[color=crimson]As grand as it is to see your beautiful face from this angle - especially in that sexy lingerie - I really should get my legs a good stretching. Unless you want to do something…[/color]” Annnnd goodbye to the serious Jackson. Immature Jackson Torvald Drake came back. Nice to see you , man. Long time no see, right? Right, well he’s gonna get some shit for that. Don’t kill him too bad, Ash.