People should grow up and stop shoving my face into my cakes every year. It was funny once, but after that, I expect them to come up with something that less requires me to have a shower.

[Jack knew he would struggle with that decision himself, his sense of personal duty clashing with a personal want of his. He had lived with a sense of duty for more years than he could properly count these days, but this right here was some of the rare times when his head wasn't just cluttered up with ghosts of the past or the next mission.

In the end, would he make that choice for himself? He didn't know.

He glanced down to the chick sleeping in his arms, and he leaned head back to rest against the wall he was leaning against.]

Yeah, I imagine. They seem to fill the same kind of function.