#but i had to sit in a first class compartment to update my phone over the wifi cause roaming wouldnt work

[playingonedchess]

posh people invent a sort of food that people would actually want to eat channlenge

[unending-happiness]

Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too. 

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful. 

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat. 

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions. 

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow. 

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

 Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.  

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother

Love you, too.

 The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. 

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

 I see you’re on my flight.  Enjoy the ride to Rome.

 Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile. 

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

 The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

 He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

 I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

 Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

 By that logic, you would be one in a million, also. 

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself.  It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

 Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

 Aren’t there rules about texting and flying? 

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine. 

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding? 

Just a few days. 

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

 Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

 So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight.  Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now. 

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink. 

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me. 

Would you rather I not?

No….you can. 

Good, because I’m fond of it. 

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that. 

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink.  Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that. 

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself. 

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class? 

It was all booked. I checked. 

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you. 

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t. 

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs. 

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself. 

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well. 

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure. 

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

 Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight. 

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink. 

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things. 

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by. 

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

 How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.  

Thank you. 

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had? 

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh. 

I like Maia. 

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that. 

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

 Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!” 

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

 Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.  If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

 Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned. 

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and  tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him. 

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?” 

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…” 

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it. 

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word. 

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took. 

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him. 

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

 “Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him. 

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?” 

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips. 

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?” 

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

[faces-in-unexpected-places]

Do You Have the Time? Episode 007: Family

[March 26th, 2018, 11:53]

Madison stood outside of the main chemistry building with her headphones on and scrolled through various apps on her phone. She had tied her windbreaker around her waist because the weather decided to cooperate half-way through the morning. March was never a predictable month where she lived. Some days were freezing, others were windy, some snowed, and even more variants were sunny. Today was supposed to be freezing, but all patches of snow were gone by 10:00. A glare pierced her retina, and she shielded her face with her free hand. And look who decided to come out today. Luckily for Madison, the impossible-to-perceive changes made by the climate’s spring season often left her backpack riddled with useful things. Usually they were left unintentionally hidden somewhere on account of the sudden need for some other seasonal accessory in the past, but she wasn’t about to start doubting her convenient and forgetful way for coming through for her future self now.

Madison rifled through the various pockets and compartments of her bag for her pair of sunglasses. Within the minute, she found them stowed away in some place she has no recollection of putting them in. In that moment, she could feel the sun. She put her Ray-Bans on.

People complimented her on her sunglasses a lot, which surprised her when she bought them. At first, she was worried that she might look too much like Harry Potter because the lenses were circular; but she later decided that it didn’t matter. Harry Potter was freaking awesome and if someone said that she did in fact look like him, then it would have been the kindest words they could have given her. She wondered if Harry wore round sunglasses just like his regular prescription. So long as he had a separate pair of sunglasses that were prescription and he didn’t have those clip-on lenses that old people use. Maybe sixty-year-old HP would use them.

Madison hummed in her thoughts and chuckled. 

She wondered if Leopold wore those kinds of glasses. Immediately after, Madison remembered that Leopold did not wear prescription glasses to begin with, so the clip-ons would be pointless. The clip-ons did seem useful, though. If she could pull off regular, circular sunglasses, maybe she could sport some prescription glasses with sunglass clip-ons. She supposed the only conflict standing in her way was that she had 20/20 vision.

She opened her web browser on her phone and typed ‘how to damage your eyesight’. Something about her train of thought and actions caused her to erupt in laughter. Surprisingly, the first few search results are exactly what she was ‘looking for’. She rolled her eyes at the idea, chuckled and returned to her various phone apps. Jeremy was four minutes late. Maybe she would hassle him for his obvious inaccuracy. Her grin strengthened on her face as she considered the idea. A message appeared at the top of her screen while she was on her entertainment high. The last thing she wanted to see at the moment.

‘General Chemistry I: Grade Posted 11:54’.

Her smile wore away and she opened up the notification. Might as well get it over with as soon as she could. The reason that she was let out early, that she hid from the group chat, was because today was an exam day. Her third exam out of five. And she also happened to be blessed with a professor who is so eager to mark all of her wrong answers that he does so before the official end of the class period. Exam III: 71%, C-.

Madison sighed and shut off the phone’s screen. Stuffing it back into her pocket felt like the best course of action in response to that news. Just in time, Jeremy pulled up in front of the chemistry building for her. Eager to leave campus, she leapt down the stairs and threw herself into the passenger seat of the car. Jeremy quietly acknowledged her and set them on course for home.

“So, what happened with the lab?” Madison asked, expecting further explanation from the group chat..

“Leslie and I made some headway before actual work started, but once it did, Sophia came in and shut it all down,” he replied flatly.

“God, what did she do?”

“Found a way to ‘evacuate’ us because of some suspected gas leak.”

“Damn. Is it legit, do you think?”

“Not sure. We didn’t have enough time to really investigate it. We just took everything we could and left before they kicked us out,” he explained, “I had to take IO to stay in the robotics lab.”

“Oh, poor little guy. That sucks.”

“The robotics lab… that Sophia volunteers in,” he said uncomfortably.

“What?” Madison yelped and turned towards him, “Why would you do that?”

“What else could I have done, Madison?” he replied, sharply, “I have no other spaces to keep IO in. You know what happens if we keep him in the apartment.”

“I know, but Sophia? Really?”

“She’s not the only one that works there. And she’s a volunteer anyway. I’ll keep in touch with IO the whole time our lab is closed.”

“Well, good luck. Hope the poor thing is okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There was a silent lull for a few minutes. Madison tensely looked out the window while Jeremy drove without uttering a word. She brainstormed ways to break the awkward static before they arrived at their apartment.

“So you and Les spent some alone time together this morning then, huh?” She joked.

“Madison, please.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.”

Another awkward silence. So, he definitely didn’t think that was funny.

“Are you excited for the research-dinner party?” She asked.

“I suppose,” he answered, “It’ll be nice to update Leopold on what Leslie and I put together. I’d really like to get this preliminary stuff out of the way, and start testing our hypotheses.”

“I’m excited to see Leslie’s place!” She added, “She’s so organised, I bet it will be super clean and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will be,” Jeremy said in a lighter tone, “What do you think you’ll do in the meantime before it’s time to leave?”

“Ehh… not sure. Maybe dick around online for a bit. I can only take so much of being aggressively average at chemistry before I decide to give it a rest and waste my time on the computer.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you know when it’s time to go,” Jeremy said as he pulled into their parking space outside of their apartment complex.

It didn’t take long for Jeremy to disappear into his room after they managed to make their way up the stairs and into their apartment. Madison entered her own room, slumped down into her bed and rested her body. She could feel her limbs get heavy as she stared up at her ceiling mobile decorated with different coloured leaves. She felt that adult mobiles were a far under-appreciated invention. 

Despite the tense silences that happened in the car, she felt that her conversation with Jeremy ended on a definitively neutral tone, rather than a hostile one. She’d take neutral over that any day. The only thing left for her to do, that she could think of, was brush up on all board games that Leslie may have, so that she could wipe the floor with her, Jeremy and Leopold at the party.

Jeremy let his backpack plummet to the floor and settled onto his bed, facedown on the mattress. He laid still for a few minutes, simply letting the tension out of his limbs. It hadn’t occurred to him how stiff he was throughout the day. From working with Leslie, getting frustrated with GraviTime, having an altercation with Leslie, having numerous confusing altercations with Sophia, and then talking to Madison on the way home. Though thankfully, their last conversation didn’t seem as difficult as their previous ones.

He rolled over to the side of his bed to inspect the papers in his bag. There was a large folder that he had almost forgotten about. It was filled with lab reports from the 1 credit hour undergraduate physics lab course that he was a teaching assistant for. He was grateful that the university offered him a contract to TA one of the lab courses for money in addition to giving him a stipend. Renting his room in the apartment would have been difficult without the deal. Despite the variety of kids he saw in an introductory course, it was actually a refreshing way to spend his time. Grading needed to be finished by the 28th.

Before surrendering to the pull to the bed, Jeremy sluggishly ambled off of his bed and knelt down in front of his ant farm sitting on a small stand near his door. It looked like the microcosm might need some water soon. He wondered how ants were so structured and coordinated. As did everyone with an ant farm, he supposed. If these ants could thrive and build with only the limited resources provided in their space, then surely he and everyone else could function a few days without the lab. Maybe he would work on an idea for an alternate location to do work like Leslie did with her dinner party.

[March 26th, 2018, 14:40]

Leslie shambled up the last flight of stairs with various reusable grocery bags filling her hands and hanging off her body. She struggled down the hallway, huffing and contorting her body to keep the bags from tipping and spilling her dinner ingredients. At last, apartment 4 on the third floor. She beamed in relief, but the expression quickly faded. She needed to unlock the door. A faint sigh escaped as she shuffled her purse around until she could access it. With just a few seconds to spare, Leslie managed to unlock her door, get inside and drop half the bags down on her dining room table. Another moment, and there may have been a messy disaster. She relieved herself of the burden from the bags slung over her shoulders, and slumped down into one of the chairs at the dinning room table, rubbing her arms.

Looking about her apartment, she immediately began picking apart the things that needed to be fixed before her guests arrived. Too many objects on her coffee table in front of the couch, all surfaces needed dusting, dishes needed to be done, groceries to be put away. The list of things was never ending. Leslie was having difficulty with her living room for one major reason. Her television sat close to her front door; in front of it was her coffee table, and then the couch. And she had her matching ottoman off in the corner, because there was not enough room for everything. Her issue was that she spent very little time watching TV; and what if there was not enough room for everybody to sit after dinner? The TV might be in the way, or one of them could have to sit close to the door, and they might be uncomfortable with that. She could already feel the party was going to be a mess. She should just take that spot herself to circumnavigate any other disaster.

Leslie shook herself out of her ceaseless train of thought and switched on her ambient sound generator sitting on the bar that bordered the kitchen. She preferred to have some sort of noise while she was home, and music and TV were both too distracting. Would they think her sound generator was weird or uncomfortable without any other noise? Maybe she should play music for them. Her favourite soundscape came on and played sounds of ocean waves and a crackling fire. Tones like those swept her away into a peaceful future, lacking the constant stress and demand for work. She could float away for a moment or two. Maybe one day she could let go of it all. It could be her and Leopold sharing in the beauty as lifetime friends. Jeremy and Madison could come too if they wanted. She was sure that they would find a way to be content. Her cell phone suddenly blared its ringer. Leslie jumped right out of her daydream. She leapt back to the dining room table and scrambled for her phone. It rested between her ear and her shoulder as she hauled bags of groceries to the kitchen counter.

“Hi mom,” she said in her cheery voice, excited to talk. Conversation usually kept her worries at bay. She unpacked the bags and searched for the ingredients’ rightful places.

“Good afternoon, darling. How are you?” her mother responded with a warm and firm tone.

“Good! Just got back from the store with some food. I’m having a little get-together tonight, so I wanted to make a good meal for everyone. What do you need?” She asked, ready to help.

Mrs. Goodchild disregarded Leslie’s question by refusing to acknowledge it. A trace of grief was left in her tone, as she responded to her daughter.

“Oh, a get-together, huh?” she asked with hesitation, “That sounds like fun. What is the occasion?”

“It’s for work.”

“Oh. Well, good for you, sweetie. I’m sure Dr. Looney will be as big of a fan of your cooking as your father and I,” she said. Leslie pulled out the eggplants that she bought and set them off to the side on the counter.

“Aww, thanks mom. I’m glad you and dad liked it all so much. Thankfully the internet was passionate about making tutorials for so many dishes. It was a convenient hobby to have to hold down the fort for you two!”

The line went quiet and Leslie was perplexed. Her mother took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

“Yeah, Leslie, speaking of that…” 

“Yes?”

“Well, since you mentioned it… I’ve been thinking a lot about the way your father and I have been for a while. Our financial situation. And I wanted— uh, is now an okay time to talk, by the way?” 

“Yeah! Everything’s fine! I’m just cooking and cleaning, getting things ready for everyone later. I could use a bit of time away from the demands of science. What’s up?”

“I wanted to call and say that I’m sorry that we're still relying on you. I was thinking about how we still depend on you for things now, even though you moved out years ago. We shouldn’t have had to rely on you when you were just a little girl either, but we did. And I want to change that now. You were always a huge help to us both, and we we’re grateful for you stepping up, and being responsible and such a good sport. We still are! I’m just sorry that nothing has really changed, even though I said it would. I thought of something that I hope will make it up to you?” she said with uncertainty.

“I know that you’re sorry, mom, don’t worry. We’ve already talked it over before! It’s really okay, though. It was tough, and maybe I could have been doing other things in my spare time as a kid, but it was useful to me! Cooking and working aren’t such bad things. I like them enough to throw a party for my coworkers! And my house is always really clean because that’s what I did back home. It worked out for everyone!”

Milk in the fridge. Sauce in the fridge. Noodles go… they could go next to the eggplants.

Her mother sighed, and there was a moment of silence on the line.

“I understand, but. I just meant to call and say that it wasn’t fair for you. And maybe you can pursue some of the things you missed out on, now that you’re older and have the time,” she suggested, “My idea, if you wanted, is that you could move back to our house for a while to relax and not stress so much. We still have your room ready, and you wouldn’t be paying for rent in two different places, anymore…”

“It would be easier, but I do really like being out here, mom! I’m close to work and there’s more happening in the city. I’m happy to help you out!”

Bags get folded and placed in the cabinet furtherest from the dining room.

“Okay,” Mrs. Goodchild whispered, “Is there anything that dad or I could do for you?”

“No, I don’t think so!” Leslie said, absent-mindedly, “Is there anything I can do for you guys?”

“No, honey, thank you. You’ve done plenty for us.”

“Did you guys get my money transfer yet?” Leslie moved the conversation onward. She heard her mother shuffle some papers around and exhale.

“Yes, it’s right here. It’s a lot. You’re sure you won’t need at least some of this? It’s more than just the rent.”

“No, I’ll be fine! You guys need to fix one of the cars, right? You can put the rest towards that!”

“Your dad and I can handle those payments ourselves, Leslie.”

“Well, now you can handle them better! You’ll pay off the services faster.”

“Thank you, hun, that’s very sweet of you.”

“How has dad been?”

“Oh, you know your father. Still driving trucks for long hours. We’re hoping he gets a promotion soon, but… we’re not too sure. Time will tell, I suppose.”

“And you?” Leslie prodded.

“The restaurant hasn’t been getting as many customers as it did when we opened last year. I’ve been thinking about making a change, if things don’t look up soon.”

Leslie found the ground beef sitting out on the counter, and stuffed it in her fridge before she forgot again. She couldn’t remember how it got there.

“I’m sorry to hear that, mom. I hope things look up soon.”

“I hope so, too,” she said quietly.

“Maybe, to take your minds off of it, you can both make a trip out here and we’ll all spend the day together!” Leslie suggested with enthusiasm.

“That would be wonderful. Your father would be excited to do that.”

“Good! We should plan that soon!”

“Yes, we should. In the meantime though, I’ve got to start getting ready for work, okay?”

“Okay!”

“It was nice to hear your voice again, honey. Have fun with dinner and everyone tonight, and be sure to say hi and thank you again to Dr. Looney for all of his help.”

“I will! I always do,” she said with a sunny smile, “It was nice to talk to you too, mom. Have a good day at work, and I can’t wait to see you two again. Don’t worry too much about me!”

Mrs. Goodchild let out a breathy laugh.

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart. Don’t work too hard.”

“Impossible!” Leslie joked.

“Talk soon, darling. I love you.”

“I love you too! Bye-bye!”

Click.

Leslie leaned against the counter with a smile. She loved hearing from her parents. Especially her mom because she was always looking out for her. It was probably where Leslie got her consistently concerned disposition, too. Although, her mother is concerned with a serious undertone. The cheeriness likely came from her father, ultimately to form Leslie’s core expressions. Cheerful, concerned and eager to help. She chuckled as she thought about what an odd combination of traits that was to exhibit in someone. She wondered if anybody was ever perplexed at her demeanour. It wouldn’t surprise her. Leslie’s smile faded away as she kept her mother in her thoughts. It was flattering to be so concerned with Leslie’s wellness, but sometimes, she wished that her mom could relax about it. The hardest part for her was that she could do nothing to change her mother.

Leslie put her thoughts to rest again and distracted herself with the housework. If the house-party was going to be a success, she would have to hurry. The seating arrangement problem had been solved, but everything still needed to be dusted, and all clutter had to be organised and tidied. Disinfecting all surfaces would be a plus, although her time could run out before that happened. She scurried down the one hallway in her apartment that led past her bathroom, bedroom, and finally terminated at a small storage closet housing her cleaning supplies. Quickly, she delved into the tiny room dragging out a vacuum, a duster, and a spray bottle of disinfectant. The vacuum slipped away from her and swung the floor in her haste. Before she bent to pick it back up, a peculiar colour caught her eye. Something orange stuck to the door facing the inside of the closet. A post-it note. Leslie furrowed her brow and slowly picked it off the door.

“Relax and slow down. Try classical. Remember to have fun!”

The handwriting was awfully… chicken-scratchy. She wondered how long it had been in there. Maybe she’d been a little too focused on work and her parents lately to remember. Her apartment did need a decent cleaning up, so it could have been there for quite some time. There was certainly something vaguely familiar. Was it the colour? Or the placement? An involuntary sigh sheepishly escaped from her mouth. She should be able to keep track of her own house, she’s an adult. She escorted the note down the hall and into her room, which also needed cleaning. Maybe she’d just close the door before they arrived. If she ran short on time, of course. Leslie precariously hid the note away in her nightstand drawer and returned to her storage closet mess with a foggy mind.

“Classical what?” she asked aloud and glanced back to her bedroom door, as if there would be a response. She shrugged and dragged her cleaning supplies to the living room. The most efficient order of tasks would be… clutter, clean the surfaces, dirty dishes, vacuum, then cooking. And closing her bedroom door. Cooking was the most important, because it is not a dinner party without dinner. Her computer and notes needed to be easily accessible, too. It wasn’t a research dinner party without the research.

The top priority was supposed to be work, after all. Briefing Leopold on the progress that she and Jeremy made that morning. She wondered if Jeremy felt comfortable coming to her house. Partly because of the end of their last personal conversation, and partly because he seemed slightly uncomfortable with everything in general. She chuckled to herself. Hopefully everything would go well. Leslie resolved to simply make the most of the night to the best of her ability. Cooking, cleaning, research, activities, whatever got done would get done.

As long as the four of them were happy, she could consider the party a good one.

[03–26–2018; 18:12_Research_Video_Log_002_START]

“Doo doo-doo doo-dooooooo,” Madison sang and pranced behind Jeremy on the way to their car. Their apartment complex’s parking lot was decently packed, and the sky was a deep blue. The sun would be setting in about thirty minutes. Jeremy looked back at her.

“What are you doing?”

“I feel like you guys should be taking advantage of this camcorder by doing more science vlogs.”

“They’re research video logs,” he said.

“Yeah, same thing, nerd. You guys could be on YouTube!”

“Madison, we’re a theoretical physics laboratory, not a make-up tutorial channel.”

Her jaw dropped in surprise, she averted her eyes and her cheeks warmed up. “How did you know I watched those…” she asked quietly.

“I didn’t, it was just an example,” he said and shrugged as he climbed into the driver seat of their car.

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair!” Madison exclaimed, following his motions into the passenger side.

“You brought it on yourself.”

“And you brought this on yourself,” she laughed and zoomed the camera up on Jeremy’s face so that it covered the whole viewing window.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I can’t control it.”

“Yes, you can,” he replied tiredly as he started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot, “You do know that you’re wasting a lot of memory, right?”

“That’s what happens when you make a time travel documentary, Jeremy!”

“It’s not a time travel documentary. It’s supposed to be for recording our experiments and results.”

“A documentary is way cooler, though.”

“Okay, just… if you transfer that footage to your computer fast enough that running out of memory won’t be a problem in the lab, then you can make your time travel documentary.”

“YES,” she yelled, “You mean our documentary.

Jeremy sighed and groaned while coming to the first red light of the drive. “If I say yes, will you please just stop.”

“Okay, alright, fine, sorry,” she mocked, “…Can I interview you for the documentary?”

“I don’t promise accurate answers to ridiculous questions.”

Green light.

“So, mister, doctor Jeremy—”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“––what is your favourite thing about your amazing, one-of-a-kind sister?”

“How much she talks.”

“Really?!” she said with a laugh.

“No.”

“Oh,” she dismissed, “That’s lame!”

Jeremy kept his eyes on the road.

“Okay, how about this. What do you think Leslie is going to make for dinner?”

Jeremy furrowed his brow while he was thinking.

“Huh. I don’t know… maybe a family kind of dinner.”

“What? What even is that?” Madison asked.

He shrugged.

“I don’t know. Something families eat.”

“Wow, what an oddly vague and cryptic answer! As if family dinner food is somehow fundamentally different from everyone else's!”

“Whatever, Madison. I’m driving."

“Thank you for being here today mister, professor Jeremy—”

“Also not a professor.”

“—do you have any final words for the audience?”

“Not particularly,” he said.

“A man of few words, but eloquent, nonetheless.”

“Hey, look at the directions and tell me if that’s her apartment building,” Jeremy instructed, “I think it might be, but I want to be sure.”

“Oh, okay sure,” Madison said, as she distractedly pointed the view of the camera towards her lap to look at her phone.

[03–26–2018; 18:24_Research_Video_Log_002_END]

[zell-dincht]

It's High-namura Noon

Chapter One Words: 3029 Warnings: None for now, besides a brawl. Summary: First off, I just want to say that spite is a powerful motivator. Without it, this fic would never exist. So thank you, random internet jagoff #374 who said, “But Hanzo is Japanese.” No fucking shit, Sherlock, but thank you, because without your uninformed comment of calling my idea a “shitty AU,” I would never have intended on writing this at all. Cheers.

Anyway, loosely inspired by Shanghai Noon, but in a modern setting, obviously with backstories suitably appropriate for the characters involved. I say “loosely” because obviously it’s not - and cannot be - a direct ripoff, but you’ll see certain similarities. Call me salty or butthurt or whatever, I don’t give a shit what you call me because this idea has made people Mad and that’s a win, in my books. Anyway. Here’s the first chapter of what I’ve lovingly nicknamed “the spitefic.”

(Also posted to my AO3

———

Once the plane finally landed in the United States, Hanzo removed a cheap flip phone from his small travel bag. Instead of using his usual smartphone and worrying about international fees and the general hassle of out-of-country service, he opted to buy a temporary burner phone for his very brief time in the States.

His brother Genji had been attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, but lately there had been some issues with his grades slipping. As the problem grew worse, Genji also neglected several attempts by his family to contact him. So, their father tasked Hanzo with travelling to Boston and bringing Genji back to Japan.

As soon as the pilot gave the okay to use cellular devices, Hanzo used the number pad to laboriously type out a text:

”Genji, this is your brother. I have just landed in Boston, as I’m sure you’re already aware, after the numerous messages Father and I have left you. I expect to see you at your apartment soon.”

Outside, there were plenty of taxis ready to pick up the various travelers exiting the airport. Hanzo easily hailed a cab and gave the driver Genji’s address.

Their father had paid not only for Genji’s tuition, but also his rent. Seeing that he had given everything to his son, the head of the Shimada family felt it was well within his right to take it all away, now that Genji’s behavior had become less than satisfactory. And since he paid for the apartment, their father also had a copy of the key, which he had given to Hanzo to take with him on his trip.

It was a tall, modern building that stood out against the historical aesthetic throughout the city. The way the old buildings mixed with new almost reminded Hanzo of home. Of course, Hanamura was much older than Boston, but he couldn’t help but think of how to this day, his old family manor stood tall as the city around it continued to grow and modernize. Hanzo already felt a little pang of homesickness, and he hadn’t even been off the plane five minutes.

The drive to the apartment didn’t take long. Though he did have a key, Hanzo still remained polite and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again, this time a bit more loudly, but still, he could hear no sound coming from the other side. Hanzo finally retrieved the key from his bag and let himself into the apartment.

There was a bit more space than one person needed, but most of that space had been taken up with clutter. Empty liquor bottles were scattered throughout the kitchen and living room, along with various articles of clothing. There was no reason Genji shouldn’t be here. He should have expected Hanzo, and besides, it was just the beginning of spring break, so classes shouldn’t have been an issue.

“Genji,” Hanzo called out as he tentatively opened the bedroom door.

Again, the room was empty, aside from more piles of messes. Hanzo frowned and grumbled in frustration as he pulled out the flip phone again, this time to call his brother.

“Yo, you’ve reached Genji’s phone. Leave a message, and I probably still won’t get back to you.” Hanzo took a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper, but spoke in a stern voice, “Genji. I am in your apartment. Please come home immediately. I must speak with you.”

As he waited for a reply, Hanzo called home to let his father know that he arrived safely and to update him on the situation. The conversation was brief, leaving Hanzo to poke around the apartment. The mess confirmed what the Shimada family had suspected all along - instead of applying himself to his studies, Genji had been shirking his responsibilities by spending too much time partying.

A calendar hanging on the kitchen wall caught Hanzo’s eye. The most recent Friday had a big, red circle around it with one word: “PADRE.” A red line extended from Friday and led through the entirety of the week.

So wherever Genji was, something called “Padre” was occupying his time. A little more snooping around the apartment, and Hanzo found his brother’s laptop, left carelessly without password protection, and the passwords to all his accounts were saved on auto-fill as well. It was no trouble for Hanzo to find Genji’s various social media accounts, where he found mention of “Padre Island.”

Knowing that his brother would be visiting, it seemed Genji still decided to take a vacation. Hanzo was not pleased, yet still determined to track down his brother. Since Genji wouldn’t be home anytime soon, Hanzo immediately purchased tickets for a Greyhound bus to San Antonio, and from there, he’d continue towards this island.

The soonest available bus to Texas didn’t depart until the next day, so Hanzo made himself comfortable and spent the night sleeping on the couch.

The next day, he wasted no time leaving the apartment and making his way to the Greyhound station. Along the way, he called his father to update him once again on the situation and notifying him of the delay. His father was furious with Genji, of course, but Hanzo swore he would handle everything on his own.

Travel by bus took much longer than Hanzo expected. He knew the States were big, yet he was still unprepared for the experience. At this point, he could have travelled through half of Japan, yet his journey had only taken him a few states away, and there was still such a long drive down to Texas.

By the time he reached a middle-of-nowhere rest stop in Tennessee, Hanzo regretted not buying another plane ticket. He hadn’t thought another flight would be worth the hassle, but seeing that a trip by bus was so insufferably dull, perhaps a plane would have been wise. But it was too late now. The tickets were purchased, and he didn’t intend to waste money so frivolously. He made his decision, and now he would have to live with it.

As the bus prepared to continue the journey and passengers began to return to their seats, Hanzo spotted the most overbearingly gaudy-looking stereotype of an American. The man looked like he just stepped out of an old spaghetti Western, decked out with a cowboy hat, boots, sarape… the full cowboy getup. He never imagined anyone actually dressed like this for real. Strange, that Hanzo never noticed this man earlier on his trip.

The two suddenly made eye contact, and before Hanzo could look away, embarrassed to be caught staring, the cowboy offered a grin and a wink before sitting down in an empty seat.

After that, Hanzo kept his eyes out the window, watching the scenery. Not that there was much of any scenery, but there wasn’t anything better to look at, anyway. At least, not without the risk of being caught staring again.

“All right, everybody, listen up.” After a while, one of the passengers spoke loudly with a noticeable Southern drawl in his voice.

Hanzo looked up to see that the strange cowboy stood in the aisle as he addressed the bus. Another weasley-looking man excitedly jumped out of his seat as well, joining the cowboy in the aisle.

“Reach for the sky!” the second man announced. “It’s a stick-up!”

The cowboy sighed and muttered softly to his partner, “C’mon, man, that's… this is my thing, all right? Just lemme do the talkin’, and you collect the money.”

“My bad. Sorry, Jesse,” the man said with a sheepish grin.

“No names,” the cowboy hissed, then turned to loudly address the bus once again. “Well you heard ‘im, wallets out. Don’t try anything, and no one gets hurt, all right?”

Since this “Jesse” made his announcement, two other men had also revealed themselves - one in the back of the bus, and the fourth was monitoring the driver, who had begun to pull over on the side of the road.

“Faster you cough it all up, the faster we’ll be on our way,” Jesse continued as his men extorted passengers for their valuables.

As the cowboy made his way to Hanzo, he rested an elbow on the back of a seat and casually leaned in towards the other man.

“How’s it goin’?” Jesse casually asked, as if they weren’t in the middle of a robbery.

Hanzo remained silent and simply gave the man a cold, defiant stare.

“Speechless? I get it, these things can be pretty intimidating,” Jesse flashed a toothy grin, “‘specially for someone who looks so out of his element. You a city boy?”

In response to Hanzo’s continued silence, the cowboy continued, “Foreign? No English?”

Hanzo knit his eyebrows together and scoffed, “Yes, I do speak English, you–”

His sentence was cut off by a sudden shriek coming from the back of the train. Jesse and Hanzo looked up to see the first, mouthy thug roughly grabbing a woman by the arm.

“Guys, guys,” the cowboy called out, “Remember the plan? No violence!”

Seeing his opening, Hanzo launched his fist into Jesse’s gut, and the next blow landed on the cowboy’s jaw. He knew only had a brief moment to take advantage of the gang’s shock, so Hanzo immediately jumped into action and went straight for the man who had been harassing the woman.

The thug released his victim and reached for a gun at his hip, but Hanzo was too quick for him. Gripping the backs of the seats as support, he swung his legs forward and launched himself feet-first at the enemy, slamming him into the back wall of the bus. As the gun fell from his grip, Hanzo kicked it underneath the seats, out of reach. A larger man came at him with a knife, but Hanzo easily deflected the blow and knocked his elbow into the man’s face.

It wasn’t enough to completely disable the two, but it delayed them enough to give Hanzo time to address the thug that still held the bus driver hostage. He turned back towards the front of the aisle, roughly shoving past Jesse on the way. The man at the front turned to face Hanzo, also reaching for a gun, which was once again immediately disarmed.

“Drive!” Hanzo ordered as he grappled with the other man, pinning him to the broad, flat windshield of the bus.

The driver quickly obeyed, slamming his foot down on the gas pedal. The bus swerved down the country road as the driver panicked, but Hanzo skillfully continued to wrestle with the other man. Desperate to not be pushed further, the thug tightly gripped the metal railings that flanked the stairs descending from the bus.

“Open the doors!” Hanzo shouted. The driver hesitated, so he called out to him again, “Do it!”

The driver pulled a lever and as the doors creaked open, Hanzo planted a solid kick to the thug’s chest, launching him out of the bus as it barrelled down the road.

Now that the driver was no longer held hostage, he radioed in to the local police to report what was happening on his bus. In the meantime, Hanzo continued dealing with the rest of the gang that remained. Jesse seemed to be hiding someplace, but Hanzo was more concerned about the two men that he could see, who were still an apparent danger.

“C’mon, he’s just one guy! Get ‘im!” the weasley man shouted as he and the larger thug cautiously advanced down the aisle.

“You get ‘im,” the larger one snapped back.

Hanzo, however, didn’t wait for them to continue arguing. He chose to attack the larger one first, careful not to accidentally hit any of the innocent passengers who had remained huddled in place. The spar proved much more difficult. Not only was this man larger, but Hanzo had already begun to wear down after all the fighting he’d already done. His opponent landed a few blows, but Hanzo never gave up. Even as he fell to the floor, Hanzo had a plan. He swept his leg out, knocking the larger man down with him.

Just as Hanzo leapt on top of the other man, ready to knock him out with just a few more punches, the weasley man shouted over the noise from the brawl. “Hey, hey, now hang on just a minute there!”

Hanzo looked up to see that the man had retrieved his discarded gun and grabbed a young woman as a hostage. “Don’t you move one more muscle!”

“You Americans and your guns,” Hanzo said through clenched teeth. “Only a coward threatens the defenseless.”

The larger thug took advantage of the moment and knocked Hanzo away with a powerful sweep of his arm. Hanzo quickly scrambled to his feet but remained in place as he carefully watched the other two, clearly worried for the woman.

“Please, there’s no need for violence,” an elderly passenger spoke as he rose from his chair. “The police are on their way. You don’t want to add a murder charge on top of robbery, son, do you?”

“Shut it, geezer!” the man yelled as he pointed his gun towards the passenger. “Y’all are gonna let us off this bus, all right? Don’t think I won’t shoot, ‘cause I will!”

Hanzo’s eyes darted around the bus, looking for any weakness he could exploit, and just where was Jesse? The man seemed to be the ringleader and was opposed to violence. Where was he, now that his gang seemed out of control?

“That’s a heavy burden, taking a human life,” the elderly man continued to reason, hands held defensively in the air. “It’s not too late, son, drop the weapon.”

“Please, you have our money, just let us go!” another passenger cried out.

The thug waved his gun in the direction of the voice, unsure where it came from. His other arm, however, remained tight around his hostage. “I ain’t no one’s ‘son’!”

With the weasley man distracted, the hostage decided to try her hand at escape. Before Hanzo or anyone could stop her, she managed to pull a small can of pepper spray out of her pocket, which she shot square in her captor’s face. With a loud cry of pain, the man released her, but in a panic, pulled the trigger on his gun. It was a blind shot, but the bullet still managed to hit the elderly man in the chest.

Hanzo’s eyes widened as he immediately jumped to the man’s aid, applying pressure to the wound. With their main obstacle distracted, the larger thug grabbed his temporarily disabled partner and dragged him to the front of the bus, where they demanded to be let off. Without Hanzo’s protection, the driver was too scared to deny their request, so the two men successfully made their escape.

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo muttered to the injured man. “I’ve failed.”

“No, no,” the man insisted, “you did just fine.”

“Don’t speak. Please, save your energy. Help is on the way.”

Hanzo felt his chest tighten in despair as he realized there was nothing he could do for this man. He fought his hardest to protect these people, yet still, he failed and was unable to do anything to ease this man’s suffering. He didn’t know how serious the injury was, or if the man would even survive, but Hanzo sat there with him, doing his best to try and keep him awake and comfortable until the medics could arrive.

Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer until they reached the next rest stop, where they remained until the authorities could catch up with them. Hanzo prayed silently as the elderly man was carried away on a stretcher, hoping he would recover soon.

After giving his statement to the police, Hanzo leaned against the wall of the small gas station and sighed as he tried to simply put his mind at ease. His eyes glanced over at the bus, empty of passengers. Even after the police had spoken to everyone and began to leave, nobody was eager to get back on the bus. They purchased water from the shop, or simply sat outside for some fresh air.

However, Hanzo noticed a subtle motion in the back of the bus. It seemed like the door to the bathroom opened up, and the silhouette of a man in a cowboy hat slowly crept towards a window. The window opened, and the shadow began to climb out the other side.

So that’s where he was hiding, Hanzo thought to himself as he briskly walked towards the bus. He arrived just in time to find Jesse straighten up after landing on the ground.

“You,” Hanzo hissed, glaring at the other man.

“Howdy,” the cowboy replied, then immediately turned heel and dashed away from the rest stop, towards the highway.

They were still in the middle of nowhere, so there wasn’t any traffic to dodge as Hanzo chased Jesse across the road. The cowboy purposely took a path that would keep the bus between them and the crowd, leaving him out of sight from the others as he fled.

Hanzo almost caught up, but Jesse disappeared into a corn field. The crop was tall, making it difficult to pursue. Hanzo followed as long as he could, but eventually lost track of the other man. He stood still, trying to listen for the crackle of stalks being trampled as the cowboy made his escape, but it was no use. Jesse was gone.

Distraught by another failure, Hanzo made his way back to the bus. He found an open seat all the way in back. The rest of the passengers loaded in, and the bus continued down the road, almost as if nothing had happened at all. Exhausted from the day’s events, Hanzo huddled into himself and easily drifted off to sleep.

[gracieisnotmuchofawriter]

God I’m Tired by Madeline Hitt

The waiting area was round, a glass table sits in the center of rainbow colored, plastic chairs. The air is light and cool, a relief from the suffocating humidity of the outdoors. Madeline listened to what was being seen as a revolutionary shift in pop idols. Miley Cyrus’ moody club track ‘We Can’t Stop’ rang in her ears, it was definitely a departure from “Party In The USA”. Madeline had bought it with the myriad of gift cards her teachers gave her in congratulation cards. Madeline graduated high school two months ago. Her English teacher gave her the most on the five gift cards she received, a book about being creative and curious, and a long hug while telling her to keep writing. A simple, intimate gesture Madeline cherished, but now she felt a longing for that simplicity.

  The last couple of months she spent playing video games with her friends and family. In July she blew her ears out with fireworks. She got a new phone just last week. But under all of that, was the seemingly Herculean task of signing up for college. Getting her FASFA in order was what made everything feel so impossible. It was getting old, really fast.

  Her step-mom wasn’t helping, she was being rather hands-off, telling her to talk to her sister Samantha about how she signed up for college. When Samantha went to college, she was twenty-five, an independent. Her paperwork was slightly different than Madeline’s. But Madeline trusted her step-mom, she went through with it, doing all of the independent paperwork.

  Today, she got an email saying there was a problem when processing her stuff, they asked for her date of birth. Madeline realized pretty quickly that she didn’t do anything right. However, they let her sign up anyway, taking her applications for reserving a dorm, enrolling her in her potential classes, but paying for it was not set in stone. She got the paper asking her to update her measles vaccination.

  Madeline had been at the hospital for twenty minutes now, her step-mom decided to move her physical therapy appointment up because “The trip needed to be at least a little worth it.” Were the words she said after Madeline was done getting her shots. She had an issue with coming here for only ten minutes and wanted to get her appointment out of the way too. Madeline didn’t like how her step-mom would insert herself into things that could be easier without her. She was in and out of there in ten minutes, but now Madeline will be stuck in this waiting area for another potential twenty.

  She wanted to get home so she could finish her paperwork, but now she was stuck waiting for her step-mom, again. Her step-mom had been lagging behind her end of the paperwork, constantly failing to remember her step-dad’s tax stuff, every time she promised, she seemed to forget just as soon as she was told. Now, the paperwork sat in the glove compartment, waiting for her, waiting for them. At home, Madeline’s computer sat at the sign in page for the Financial Aid website, she didn’t care if her siblings found the kind of porn she liked, she didn’t care if they found it to be irresponsible as a computer owner, what she cared about was getting out of that house, get out of Homer, and most importantly; get away from her step-mom.

  Three years ago, her step-mom began drinking heavily on the weekends. At first Madeline didn’t notice, all she knew was that her step-mom seemed out of it on Sundays, the day before school and after Madeline got home from seeing her siblings. She seemed to sleep most of the evening, but still somehow sleeping through the night. It wasn’t until Casey—her birth mom to reduce redundancy—told her about several incidents’ when she would call her step-mom. Those days, she would late to pick Madeline up, but these few times, she was drunk. Casey told her to talk to Madeline about this, because she doesn’t want her fucking things up and driving over to their house drunk and fucked. But her step-mom never had that talk, she went on like it was business as usual. After failing to have that talk, Madeline said she wanted to stay with Casey until high school was finished.

  Madeline wanted to stay with her mother Casey because her step-mom’s drinking is why her sister Samantha moved out in the first place. Casey said she was fine with whatever decision she made, but kept emphasizing that that was her decision to make. Madeline felt a twinge of self-doubt, asking herself if Casey really wanted to deal with another person’s gay child, just like she has to put up with Samantha now. Or maybe that was just another voice talking, or maybe it was all Madeline saying it to herself, she couldn’t tell, all she could hope for was that Casey would let her live with her and her siblings.

  After Madeline moved out, her step-parents left their house to go on a vacation, she kept calling Casey, drunk and angry. She stopped calling after Casey told her she hopes she dies. The months after Madeline would have very strained talks with her step-mom, long periods of silence followed by a money transfer of two-hundred dollars. She didn’t like being indebted to her step-mom but she also wanted to spite her, so she bought a bunch of stupid shit for herself. From porn on the internet to going to see movies she wasn’t excited about.

  The waiting area was round, a glass table sits in the center of rainbow colored, plastic chairs. The air is light and cool, a relief from the suffocating humidity of the outdoors. Madeline listened to what was being seen as a revolutionary shift in pop idols. Miley Cyrus’ moody club track ‘We Can’t Stop’ rang in her ears, it was definitely a departure from “Party In The USA”. Madeline had bought it with the myriad of gift cards her teachers gave her in congratulation cards. Madeline graduated high school two months ago. Her English teacher gave her the most on the five gift cards she received, a book about being creative and curious, and a long hug while telling her to keep writing. A simple, intimate gesture Madeline cherished, but now she felt a longing for that simplicity.

——

Sometimes Madeline writes stories on her personal blog, to open up difficult conversations about certain taboo topics. She took inspiration from an illustrator in Missouri who uses her Instagram as both a diary and professional portfolio. I wish I could do something like this, but who wants to hear about a girl who’s addicted to painkillers and is sad about her family not saying ‘Hi’ enough? My aunt is normal, my brother is normal, his partner is normal, my sister is even more normal, living with her wife and all. There’s no reason for me to be like this, to be this depressed, this anxious. Maybe I’m just being emotional.

Amber

[growingupguidepup]

SDIT Meets the Last Frontier – Part 1

Many people who follow us know that I work as an emergency veterinary technician. Usually this job doesn’t include traveling, but in January I received an email from my clinic manager that included a unique opportunity. They were looking for volunteers to travel up to Anchorage Alaska to help out an emergency clinic there that was short staffed and looking for additional assistance during their computer software transition. Alaska has always been a place that I have wanted to see and visit so I jumped on the chance to go, even if I was going to be working during the visit.

The response from all my coworkers was huge, so many people wanted to go and I feel extremely lucky that I was one of the two employees selected to go. The dates for the trip were picked out that worked for everyone involved and all the arrangements were made. I then had a decision to make. Do I take my service dog in training (SDIT) named Pixie with me? Or do I leave her home with Matt?

If you read my last blog I announced that Pixie would be staying with me and training to help me will my new changes in my health. So most would say, absolutely she should go with me, and I do agree, but there are a lot of factors that I have to consider in my decisions when I take her.

My first concern was that I would be working three days in a row; ten hour shifts. I have been working 8 hour shifts and the extra 2 hours can somedays be really hard on me without a break. I had no idea how busy this clinic was or how long I would be on my feet without a break. Also would there be areas for me to sit? Opportunities for me to sit? I can make adjustments at the clinic I work at if needed depending on my level of fatigue most days. I can do work at the microscope, I can do phone updates, monitor anesthetic procedures, and other things at my work on days that I am struggling to be on my feet for long periods. My coworkers also understand and a few do recognize when I’m not up to certain tasks and jump in now without me even asking to switch tasks with them. So going into a new clinic environment was going to be a little stressful… and for Pixie too. Pixie knows the clinic I work in and the flow, she grew up there. She has a spot under the desk at one of the computer stations where she is comfortable and she can stay there for eight hours without a problem. She requires just one or two potty breaks during the shift and she needs to be fed her dinner. She can keep an eye on me and is very happy there. She wouldn’t have the same privileges at the clinic in Alaska and therefore I considered it might be a stressful experience for her.

First step was to message the clinic manager at the clinic in Alaska to see if it was even an option to bring her with me. The response was yes, but all employee dogs were to be kept in an area where there were dog runs. Pixie does have some kennel stress when put into kennels anywhere other than our house. This is what started her being placed under the desk at my work when she was a puppy. I would take her to work with me and she would have basically an anxiety attack when I put her in a kennel there. She was fine if another dog was with her, but panicked when she was by herself. She would cry, bite at the kennel door, pant, pace and even vomit occasionally. It was easier on her to be under the desk and she was perfectly calm and behaved there. We slowly worked on her getting more comfortable being in a kennel and now I can put her in a kennel if I need to.  She isn’t thrilled about it, but she is now calm in the kennel. The only other experience she has had being in a kennel somewhere else was at her scent class training sessions. The dogs were required to be in a kennel between runs. It was a 6 week course and by the end she was way more comfortable about being in the kennel there, but again it took a few weeks and I was sitting right next to her.

I weighed the pros and cons about bringing Pixie on the trip. On past trips Pixie has shown some stress signs, but does work through them as the trip goes. She doesn’t always eat well, or poop normally. She has had some barking at noises outside our hotel rooms because they are unfamiliar sounds. 

The pros were that this would be a great experience for her, she already has some experience traveling, but more would be great. She could experience snow for the first time, she would be a great help to me traveling through the airports and help me conserve energy for working. 

The cons were if she stressed out in the kennel at the clinic I might be forced to sedate her if needed. Another concern was whether she would potty in the snow (she is very picky where she will poop). I also had to think about if I was tired after my shift If I would have energy to take care of her. Without Matt around I would be responsible for getting up out of bed to potty her and make sure she got enough exercise before my shift. Pixie knows my coworker that came with us, but she is very attached to me. I was pretty certain that she would possibly outright refuse to go potty for anyone other than myself, another thing we are working on.   

I decided that bringing Pixie was worth all the potential cons. If we are going to be a working team I had to see how she was progressing with dealing with a change in her routine and environment. Service dogs need to be adaptable and if she couldn’t adapt on this trip, then I would need to reevaluate her future with me. This in some ways was a test for us as a team. I could see what things were solid for her and what things still needed work. I am 100% happy with my decision to bring her, she stepped up to the challenge and proved that she has made huge strides since her last trip in June.

I think Pixie knew that this was a test for her and went into work mode as soon as we stepped out of the car at the airport. I also think that she wanted to show off her skills to my coworker who was traveling with us. We checked in ourselves and our luggage first. She waited patiently at the counter as the airline representative asked the two questions, is she a service dog? And what is she trained to do? Pixie still wears her “In Training” cape and will continue to do so until she is super solid on all of her behaviors in public. Next we went outside for a last chance to potty before we went through security. She went very quickly and was eager to go back in and head to security. At security she was absolutely perfect in her behavior. She waited patiently in line, sat and waited for me to pass through the metal detector before calling her through and accepting of her pat down. Once we gathered our things we were off to our gate. She was excited but also very focused not only on me, but making sure my coworker was sticking close by to us. She kept looking for her and as soon as she knew she was still with us, she focused on where we were going.

We got to preboard. I do enjoy this option to get everything I think I will need for the fight without feeling rushed with a line of people behind me. Having a dog at my feet means no room for a bag under the seat. Once I sit down in my seat I am there for the duration on the flight. I don’t want to risk disturbing my dog and having to get her resettled mid flight if I want or  need to get something out of my bag in the overhead compartment. I had the window seat and my coworker was next to us in the middle seat. Pixie quickly settled in her spot and seemed ready for the adventure to begin. Once boarding began a nice woman in a flight attendant uniform sat in the aisle seat. She was flying to Seattle to catch a different flight that she would be working. But one of the first things she said as she sat was “now that is a real service dog” and pointed at Pixie. That is one of the best compliments I could have received on this trip. As a flight attendant, I’m sure she has seen her fair share of dogs that should not have been on a flight. 

Take off was no problem, but a few minutes into the flight Pixie did shift and moved to my coworkers foot space and stayed there for the entire 2 hour flight. Not sure if she was feeling uneasy herself or picking up on something from my coworker. This was the first time Pixie sat at the rear of the plane. In all her other fights Pixie sat in the bulkhead area so maybe the noises and vibrations were different for her behind the planes engines. At the same time my coworker suffers from anxiety and perhaps Pixie was one step ahead of her. Pixie multiple times checked in and even gave her a few nudges during the trip. I asked how she was feeling when this happened and she said that she felt her anxiety levels were increasing each time Pixie checked in. Pixie was definitely picking up on something and helping not only me, but my coworker as well. This was a bit of a surprise for me. Pixie was willing to notify someone else of a change in their body.

Pixie remained settled on the flight but alert, which was a little odd, because normally she would sleep.  Once we landed in Seattle we had just under an hour to catch our connecting flight in a completely different terminal. We got off the plan and Pixie remained in work mode. She had just the right amount of pull for me and navigated the people and environment like a pro. We had to get on a tram to go to the next terminal and again, no problem for Pixie. When we exited the tram there was an indoor relief area for dogs. It was a piece of artificial turf on a raised platform and a plastic fire hydrant. This was Pixie’s only opportunity to pee before boarding our next flight that would be about 4 hours. I walked her over and gave her the cue to potty and she quickly hopped up and peed and hoped off. She had this look of “ewe, that was gross” on her face. It was probably the equivalent of how I feel of using a porta potty at events that don’t have an actual bathroom. You gotta go you use it, but as quickly as possible. I was surprised but very happy that she went, since she is very particular about where she will potty. Relieving habits are one of the biggest reasons some dogs don’t go on to be service dogs. Some dogs will potty where and whenever they want freely which is a problem; others will only relieve at home or familiar places which is also a problem. A service dog has to be comfortable relieving where and when an opportunity is given. It is a huge and important part of puppy raising and service dog life.

When we got to the gate for the next flight they were already boarding, so no pre board option for us. It is more challenging to navigate boarding a plane with a dog when people are already sitting in their seats and people standing in the aisle in front and behind you. A dog can feel crowded and uncomfortable. You need to be mindful that your dog isn’t trying to sniff or say hi to people. And you have to make sure people are not trying to pet your dog as you are standing still or moving down the aisle. All of this while trying to move to your seat in a tiny space that isn’t large enough for your dog to walk in the position it is used to which is right next to you. You have to choose, does the dog walk in front or behind you. Once we got settled in our seat and everyone was boarded, we were asked to move by the flight staff. It wasn’t a full flight but the row we were in was full. They said that they wanted to give Pixie more space and sat her and I in the last row of the plane in the window seat. There was someone in the aisle seat but not the middle. So we had to get up, gather our things and leave my coworker behind and get resettled. Pixie took it all in stride, but I was a little annoyed by it all. But what are you going to do, you are supposed to follow the direction of the flight staff. Pixie did settle quickly though in the middle seat foot section and finally fell asleep after an already long day for her and slept the duration of the flight.

For more details on our products and services, please feel free to visit us at: service dog info, service dog education, service dog in training, sdit, service dog in training acronym.