It was strange that she should be so sure of what she was doing and herself in the middle of an enemy's camp,
surrounded by not so quick death and worse. Much worse. And now, safe, she felt so shaky. She supposed it was
preferable to being a wreck during the episode and therefore being reduced to uselessness and coming out fine
afterward but - she wasn't used to feeling this way. All her worries and insecurities and fears were right on the surface
instead of buried the way they were supposed to be.
She'd get over it. She would. But she was so glad Hector was here - now - with her.
When the seatbelt sign went off, she shifted her legs so they were resting across his thighs. Which gave him both his
and her own leg room for his own legs as well as elevating her ankle. Settling in for the flight, feeling more relaxed she
asked with a crooked smile:
"Wouldn't happen to have a deck of cards on you, would you?"
"No." He said, laughing. "But you do." For Mike and Suzette had seemed to pack for every possible contingency. He'd
be surprised if there wasn't a parachute in her carry on some place. Or maybe the bag doubled as a parachute!
So he swung her legs off him so he could go into her bag, one of the side pockets, and pulled out the deck, then sat
back down, pulled her legs back up and pulled down the tray table from the back of the seats in front of them. "Okay,
so what do you want to play? War is easy."
So they played War. And Rummy. He tried to teach her Poker but she kept chortling softly whenever she got a good
hand. They attempted Spoons but that degenerated quickly. They even resorted to Old Maid and Go Fish. They were
in the middle of a rapidly degenerating game of Slap Jack when the food came. Luckily for everyone involved, they
also still had the pears and the pastries they'd bought in France though. Andi did however avail herself of the soda
that was offered. She was nearing the end of her reserves and caffeine seemed an acceptable necessary evil.
After the 'meal' they found a paperback novel in her pack that actually looked like something she'd read, so she asked
Hector to read it to her just to hear the sound of his voice while she tucked herself into his side. Feeling - young. And -
carefree. And it was an odd combination she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before.
Of course what was packed for her was a decidedly British author with decidedly British turns of phrase, which
sounded particularly amusing in his deep slow drawl. Even the people in front of them were chuckling a bit as he went
through the pages.
"Okay, so it’s not masterpiece theater." He said with a chuckle as he took a quick break for a drink.
Andi's soft chuckle joined his as she tipped her head back to look up at him. She had her feet toward the window now
with a blanket wrapped around them to keep her warm and had been resting with her head on his far shoulder so that
she could feel the rumble in his chest as he read as well as hearing it.
"Definitely not." She agreed with a smile. "I'm quite chuffed. I like this much better. That's the first time I've heard
someone say 'stop fannying around and chivvy along' in quite that way." She leaned up to press a kiss to his jaw. "I'd
say I was going to make a Brit of you yet but you'd take it as a threat." She teased. "And I'd hate to have you resorting
to throwing more of your precious tea into a harbor somewhere over it."
"Nearly as much of a threat as making a Yankee outta me." He said with a smile. "So forget that, or I swear I'll make
you into a southerner in no time. I don't even know what this guy is saying...of course they couldn’t pick you something
written in English, just this hoity toity stuff passing as it I guess."
He adjusted the blanket since he was taking a break from reading for the moment as he asked the passing stewardess
for another soda. Then he looked at his watch.
"Wow, we've made the time fly though. Another hour or so until NY."
"It is written in English." Andi protested mildly. "You're just complaining because it's not written in American. No one's
said 'yawl' or 'fixin ta' or improperly used the word 'biscuits'." She wrinkled her nose smugly at him, eyes laughing.
Shifting so she could take a sip of his soda once he'd had his own swallow and then snuggling back down against him.
Chuckling. "Hoity-toity indeed."
He had nice arms too, she thought absently as he checked his watch and then gave a humming sigh of relief as he
announced they were almost to the next, and almost last, leg of their journey. Almost home...
It seemed strange to be calling a place she'd never been 'home'. But it was one of the places that held Hector's heart.
It deserved the title.
"I wish I were more awake." She commented. "I wish I could pay the proper attention I should to my first American city."
It seemed wrong to be tired instead of eager and excited. New York was supposed to be an amazing city. Even if she
was only going to see if from inside an airport. "Should we get something for the children?"
"We could pick up a hobo. They'd enjoy that." Hector said with a laugh. "Nah, they've got enough crap, and at airports
there isn't a whole lot to pick up. And y'all, fixin' ta and wuntwo are too words. And there is no improper use of the word
biscuits." He said with a grin. "Besides, maybe we'll take a real day trip to New York. You'd be amazed at the frequent
flier miles I've got stored up."
She pressed her face into the curve of his shoulder and started to laugh when he mentioned bring the children a
hobo. It was the usual near silent laughter but it shook her shoulders and the back of her throat. She could hear the
grin in his voice when he 'corrected' her English. Young, upstart countries and their slang she thought with a smile as
the laughter faded and she tipped her head back to look up at him. The problem was she loved the sound of his lazy
accent and the way words smoothed into honey when he said them. So it was very hard for her to protest the way he
cheerfully mangled words.
"Biscuits are cookies." She protested anyway. "Cookies and gravy sounds terrible." She made a face to prove her
point and then curled her hands against his shirt. While she was making notations, she supposed she should add that
he had a very nice chest, even through a t-shirt, to the list. With a nod for the thought, which she knew just proved
how tired she was getting, she added: "And I would like to see New York through more than just a haze of airport and
exhaustion. I would like to see a lot of your country. After we sleep for a month or so and I forget how horrid the leg
room onboard planes is again, of course."
"The only way you can see New York is through a haze of something." He said. "Pollution, car fumes, god only knows
what kind of fumes. So maybe the airport on approach is the best view. Whole skyline. And biscuits," he said, turning a
mock glower on her to make a point, even as his eyes laughed, " are NOT cookies. Any more than animal crackers are
crackers.”
She let her eyes go wide.
"I don't know why you're looking at me." She protested. "It was you Americans that started the whole 'animal cracker'
thing. Which I will point out, just proves my biscuit point since you can't seem to tell the difference between crackers,
cookies and biscuits." At least she was fairly sure the whole animal cracker thing was American. It certainly sounded
like something they'd do. She reached up and traced a long finger down the side of his face.
"But you do look very cute when you're faking being fearsome." She offered appeasement. Eyes teasing.
He rolled his eyes and laughed. "there everyone goes with the cute thing again. I dare any of you to ask the Rangers
if I'm all cute and cuddly." He said. "And don't knock the Americans, last time I checked you really really liked one,
even if you think he's 'bolshy' and 'stroppy."
"And cute." She added to his list with a smile. "But yes, I find I'm endeared of all kinds of infractions because he's the
one making them." Content, she wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders. "And he's only stroppy when he's tied
to a bed really, so I forgive him for that." The seat back in front of them moved slightly and Andi swallowed a chuckle.
"But since I'm escaping with him half way around the world to his lair, I must have a weakness for Americans." Her eyes
looked up at him. Warm. "Or at least one and I would love his entire country just for his existence.”
He chuckled at the images she was painting. "Oh how you must suffer in my presence." He said. "Lots more suffering
in store, I'm afraid. Quiet little town, a quiet little street with a cul de sac. Except the poodle. The poodle isn't quiet.
Maybe when we're scaring off the obnoxious neighbor we can use it for target practice.
Her body relaxed against him as she smiled. Quiet. That sounded like heaven. No medical emergencies. No worrying
about where Hector was or what he was doing. No gunshot wounds or shrapnel or severed limbs or burned bodies -
her breath hitched and she shook her head slightly, tightening her arms around him. Nothing, she reminded herself
firmly. Nothing but quiet and peace and living things. She turned her face into Hector's throat and inhaled. So his
scent would drive out the others that wanted to be remembered.
"I'd protest and say the dog couldn't possibly be that bad." She said against him, eyes closed. "But if I do he really will
be that terrible. Should we buy doggie cookies to throw at him?”
He just had to get her through the airports. Both JFK and Louis Armstrong were chock full of people. All the time.
Hustling, bustling, moving people. He was trained in crowd containment, worst case scenarios. What to do if something
bad went down in a crowded place.
He hoped he wouldn't have to use it. Then he had to shake off that thought, everything was fine, as Andi slid back into
her own seat for the approach to the New York City airport, the flight attendant giving the time and weather in different
languages.
"No real time to look around. This time." He said. "Connection is close by and leaves in twenty."
"Good." She said it softly, eyes closed as the back of her head rested against the seat. Giving him a quiet smile. She
could feel herself stretching. Fraying at the edges. The plane was all right. Not wonderful but all right. A contained,
controlled environment where, if she was very careful and concentrated, she could focus on only what she wanted to.
Paris, with its distractions had been - bearable. But Paris had been quite a few hours ago and she was - she was a bit
worn since than. She wanted to be home. In bed. With Hector. But to get there, she needed to get past a few more -
situations.
She missed sunshine.
Her hand found Hector's, fingers winding through his own long ones as the plane began its descent. Wondering if he
was getting annoyed with her clinging yet. Deciding it was far too late in her day and she had far too little left of her
own strength for her to try to go it alone now though. She'd do better next time. Apologize later as well.
"Will you play me some of your grandmother's music?" She asked softly. "After it’s been a few days and we've rested?
On her piano?"
"I'm not on my grandmother's level." He said with a chuckle. "And I actually haven't touched a piano in at least a year."
The last time he was home, year or so ago, had been the last opportunity. "So don't go getting your hopes up for
something grand and spectacular, but I'll see what I can manage. As soon as we're rested and the notes don't all
blend together and run into each other on the page."
The approach and landing was smooth and uneventful, and after going through customs (luckily their food from Paris
was all eaten) they were on the smaller domestic flight to New Orleans. Just being on American soil again, not any
where near being on duty, sent the waves of relaxation right down through to his bones as he made himself
comfortable in the new seat as the jet took off back into the skies.
Didn't seem much like he was doing anything on the ground lately! He'd spent far more time in the air than he had feet
firmly planted on something that didn't move as much. But it wouldn't be long, and he knew every whirl of the engine
was bringing them closer to their destination.
Home.
Watching Hector made her smile softly to herself. He looked - so much better. Lines of strain and stress slowly melting
from his face. She was the cause of those lines, she knew, and it healed something in her heart to see that they could,
in fact, be made to vanish. Soon they would be home and everything would be all right.
She had made it through the airport entirely on the strength she was borrowing from him. Feeling as if she must be
missing quite an interesting part of the adventure but too tired and drained to do it the justice she should. On the
plane she simply shut her eyes and, once it was in the air, settled in her seat so she could rest her head against
Hector's shoulder. Not even bothering undoing her seatbelt before her hand found his again and she simply fell
asleep.
He let her sleep for the short (at least in comparison) flight, and didn't wake her until the cabin was nearly empty, then
gently nudged her awake. She looked so peaceful and beautiful when she slept, he was loathe to wake her up at all.
But, one couldn't sleep in an air plane forever.
"Come on. One last flight and a cab ride and then you can sleep uninterrupted. I promise."
She deserved to sleep, for a long time. In peace. Right now, he couldn't give that to her. But soon, he'd be able to.