[He's ready for her. Well, mostly ready; he drops his communicator to the floor, but he stays steady and wraps his arms tight around her shoulders. He can smell it all on her - the emotion, the mix. It's too much to sort out, and he doesn't want to. It feels like intruding. Instead, he drops his head, lets the scent of her hair fill his nose instead.]

Me too.

[His voice is thick, and he swallows hard to get past it.]

We need some kind of Barge Facebook. So we can keep in touch. And you can visit, okay? Not here - I mean, you can, I guess, if that's even-- I meant, Beacon Hills, if the Admiral can do that.

[He doesn't want this to be goodbye forever, and he's struggling to get that out.]