"That's kind of you to offer. I'll keep you in mind if my alternate finds himself without someone to patch him up." He smirks wryly, aware that may not be quite what she had in mind.

"No, not yet. I was a pilot." He shrugs, while a myriad of memories flow through his head. His position in the Secret Service, the altering of his name for anonymonity, the shrapnel that damaged half his face; all these are secrets he intends to take to the grave. "It was a mess. All war is, from the inside."