OOM: Khabarovsk, Siberia, USSR, March 1953

She kisses her husband when he walks through the door to their apartment. This is not an unusual occurrence for the Shostakovs, but instead of her normal light greeting, she's far more thorough.

"Nata," Lyosha says, finally, "is everything...alright?" Unlike her, he's never dropped his Volga accent, and he just sounds like home.

"I can't kiss my own husband in our own living room?"

"Nata."

Natasha looks up at him, studying his face. For a moment, she entertains the thought of explaining things to him.

I spent a week being nine, and tried to start a socialist revolution, and then there was a zombie outbreak where I could have died, and currently I'm hiding a gun from I think the future behind some books, and I never did tell you about Milliways, did I?

Maybe not.

"I had a long day," she says simply. "And I missed you."

His expression turns complicated; he doesn't quite believe her, but there are some things you just don't ask about when your wife is a lieutenant in the NKVD. And, still, she can read in his face how much I missed you means, even after five years of marriage.

I missed you, I love you, I love you.

This time, he kisses her. And if they end up having dinner later than normal, well.

These things happen.