"Look for yourself," he said, gesturing with one hand toward the window beside her as though he really didn't need that hand to fly with anyhow, returning it to the controls without missing a beat.

He was going to take another moment to breathe this in. Damn, it had been a month. But the chopper was all his again, dammit, and aerospace was his bitch, and he tapped his finger against the controls, keeping beat with the thrum of the blades above them. They were singing to him. He was just tapping time.