It's Called: Freefall

Chapter 1

<takes place 6 months post whichever latest Pathaan/Tiger movie of your choice>

Pathaan parks his BMW i8 next to a curb outside his apartment building. Rubai was sitting on the passenger side of the car, a pleased smile on her face. They have just returned from their date.

It's been six months since their last mission together, things have simmered down a bit at the JOCR. Col. Luthra had asked Pathaan to step up and take Nandini's position to lead the team. However, he had turned the offer down saying, 'sitting behind a desk and giving orders is not really my style'.

However, much to Col. Luthra's delight, Pathaan did actually get a haircut. He now sports slightly shorter hair than before and a beard.

Pathaan and Rubai exist the car, still riding the high of it, smiling, giggling and holding hands. Their faces are inches apart, when the taxi Rubai had booked for herself, pulls up. He let's go of her reluctantly and closes the door as she gets in with a mischievous grin on her face, a silent promise that they'll continue it next time. He watches as the car speeds away into the night. Smiling to himself, Pathaan turns around and gets into the lift to his apartment.

Pathaan turns the key and walks into his apartment on the 8th floor. The only source of light is the street light coming through the french windows. He was still in great mood, he had enjoyed the evening with Rubai. Pathaan drops his jacket on the chair near the door, revealing the white Henley underneath. He continues to walk into the open concept kitchen, and takes out a bottle of water from the fridge.

That's when he senses the movement behind him. Someone was sitting in his living room.

Pathaan grabs the nearest weapon, a knife, and quickly turns around. Aiming the knife at the unknown person in defence. There is a tense pause, while it takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the low light.

"Hello Amar." A calm yet commanding voice greets him.

Pathaan is caught offguard, his breath caught in his throat. It had been years since anyone had regarded him with his real name. But the moment he heard her say it, he knew who it was.

And there she was, reclining on the armrest of his couch, clad in all black. Her feet propped up on the seat, a drink in her hands. The light from the windows making her gold in her brown eyes shine, her lips curled into a smile.

With his arm still suspended mid hair and the knife pointing at her, he utters her name.

"Meghna."

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author's note: tbh, 'maya' was a strong contender. But, in the last three decades, not once, but twice, the universe wanted Kajol to be Shahrukh's Meghna. And ever since DDLJ he's always been her 'R' may it be Raj/Rahul or Rizwan and I was getting tired of that. Google said 'Amar' was also an Arabic name, so here we are, 26 years later, with Amar and Meghna.