In Transit by MMB
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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
In Transit - by MMB
Chapter Two: Arrival
Being the veteran of his share of long-distance flights, Sydney had learned to recognize the subtle changes in cabin pressure that signaled the pilot had begun a slow descent toward the designated airport; and this flight was no different. Rousted from bed to be ordered onto a transcontinental flight to Los Angeles, he had rebelled against the intemperate hour by simply dropping his chin to his chest and napping the greater share of the time. He had finally roused about three minutes earlier at the first hint of cabin pressure change, only to find himself unexpectedly the only person awake in the cabin.
Across the aisle from him, Broots had stretched his seat back as far as it could go and was still sawing logs softly. Sam, otherwise ever-vigilant, had finally leaned his head back against the forward bulkhead and dropped off, although Sydney suspected that the burly sweeper was dozing with one ear on full alert, ready to come awake at a moment's notice or the slightest unusual sound. And still nestled down on Sydney's right arm with her hand tucked into his elbow was Miss Parker, cozy and warm beneath the blanket Syd had gotten Sam to place over her. Syd had to admit that the blanket had helped keep him warm and made his own nap all the more restful, as it had almost half-covered him in order to give Miss Parker the greatest warmth possible.
Sydney found the situation very amusing. Here they were, four tireless hunters once more setting out to track down a clever and elusive quarry, in that quiet time setting that comes before any of them would need to put their skills into action, with three of them dead to the world. There was not a single visible clue to the nature of their task or the individual role any one of them played in that task when awake. All the weapons were out of sight, Broots' computer stowed overhead. To a casual observe, they could have been tired corporate executives on a red-eye flight heading for a shareholders' meeting, rather than a covert retrieval team.
Still, he knew from yet another subtle cabin pressure change that he needed to rouse Miss Parker soon, before any of the others came awake. He was deeply touched that she now trusted him enough that she might be willing to fall asleep on his shoulder when no one else - including him - was looking. But for her to be caught leaning against another, even in sleep... No, he would be wise to awaken her now, before Sam or Broots opened their eyes when the pilot made his inevitable landing announcement. Bad enough he had to awaken her, rather than let her awaken herself to the rest of them still being asleep.
He really regretted having to disturb her. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well of late, as indicated by the amount of coffee she inevitably downed the moment she hit her office and the circles under her eyes that were slowly getting darker and harder to hide with makeup. Were their circumstances any different, were they not under the gun to get to this latest of Jarod's lairs in time to actually catch the Pretender for a change, he'd be pulling medical rank and insisting that she be allowed to sleep herself out. But no, Raines had turned this hunt for Jarod into a contest with survival as the ultimate prize. She had no choices, and at this moment, neither did he.
"Parker," he said softly, leaning over her dark head and putting his lips near her ear. "Parker, its time to wake up now."
She shifted against his shoulder without waking, tightening her grip on his elbow.
Sydney gently smoothed back the stray locks of hair that had fallen into her face, then smoothed the backs of his fingers across a cheek. "C'mon Parker. Open your eyes."
She stirred again. "Go away," she muttered, rubbing at her cheek with her blanket-covered shoulder as if to chase the fingertips away.
He leaned over her again with a chuckle then murmured. "I can't, you've got a death-grip on my arm."
She finally roused, blinking slowly to get her bearings. As she awoke and realized the position she was in, first she blushed, then blanched, then almost unwillingly turned her head and looked up at Sydney with a combination of guilt and surprise.
He smiled softly at her. "There you are. I'd have let you sleep, but I figured you'd prefer to be awake when the pilot announces our landing and wakes up the others." With a sideways jerk of the head, he indicated the still-snoring Broots and the dozing Sam.
Miss Parker lifted her head to glance around at the others, then shot Sydney a look of pure gratitude. She then blushed in embarrassment as she released her tight hold on his arm and pulled away from him. As she straightened, the blanket slipped from her shoulders and let the cooler air of the cabin hit her. She caught at the soft blue blanket before it could hit the floor and turned to Syd again, this time with questions in her eyes.
The psychiatrist merely shrugged at her, finding his right side slightly stiff. "Want some help folding it?"
Miss Parker shook her head while covering a wide yawn with the back of a hand. "No thanks, I've got it." She proved her word, folding the blanket quickly and efficiently, then setting it on her lap and folding her hands demurely on top of it.
"We're making our final descent into Los Angeles," came the captain's voice over the cabin loudspeaker. "We'll be on the ground in about five minutes. There's a limo waiting for you there."
Sam's head came away from the bulkhead at the first crackle of the speaker, and he looked about the cabin in quick assessment before working his muscles as an alternative to stretching. Broots' snoring cut off abruptly with a gurgle, and soon his pale blue eyes were gazing blearily about the cabin while he struggled to return his seat to the upright position.
Miss Parker ran her fingers through her hair, quickly combing it into a semblence of its normal, casual order; while next to her, Sydney straightened his suit jacket and tightened his tie around his neck for a more business-like demeanor. As the engine noise built after touchdown to brake the little jet, she leaned back towards him and said quietly, "Thank you, Sydney... you make a very comfortable pillow."
He leaned towards her until their foreheads nearly touched. "Any time, Miss Parker. My pleasure."
"And thanks for waking me up."
Sydney started chuckling. "And protecting your reputation?" he finished for her in wry amusement, taking a chance that the intimacy of the moment could make a teenie bit of gentle teasing possible between old friends.
Miss Parker blinked at him in surprise at his rarely-displayed impudence, then turned and, with a indulgent grin of her own, punched him very gently in the very shoulder she had rested against.
Broots stared in the surprise at the sight of his boss playfully punching a grinning Sydney for no apparent reason, while Sam - ever the consummate sweeper - sighed and very diplomatically averted his eyes. Miss Parker leaned forward and glared across Sydney at Broots, who sat with mouth gaping. "Do you have a problem?" she asked crisply.
"No, ma'am!" The computer tech turned away quickly and focussed his gaze out the darkened window and the headlights of the waiting limousine near the hanger they were approaching.
She glanced sideways back at her traveling companion. "No, Sydney," she announced with soft and practiced haughtiness, the twitching lips giving away her own amusement, "THAT protected the reputation."
Then she punched him again, a little harder, when his chuckles grew into laughter.
Chapter Two: Arrival
Being the veteran of his share of long-distance flights, Sydney had learned to recognize the subtle changes in cabin pressure that signaled the pilot had begun a slow descent toward the designated airport; and this flight was no different. Rousted from bed to be ordered onto a transcontinental flight to Los Angeles, he had rebelled against the intemperate hour by simply dropping his chin to his chest and napping the greater share of the time. He had finally roused about three minutes earlier at the first hint of cabin pressure change, only to find himself unexpectedly the only person awake in the cabin.
Across the aisle from him, Broots had stretched his seat back as far as it could go and was still sawing logs softly. Sam, otherwise ever-vigilant, had finally leaned his head back against the forward bulkhead and dropped off, although Sydney suspected that the burly sweeper was dozing with one ear on full alert, ready to come awake at a moment's notice or the slightest unusual sound. And still nestled down on Sydney's right arm with her hand tucked into his elbow was Miss Parker, cozy and warm beneath the blanket Syd had gotten Sam to place over her. Syd had to admit that the blanket had helped keep him warm and made his own nap all the more restful, as it had almost half-covered him in order to give Miss Parker the greatest warmth possible.
Sydney found the situation very amusing. Here they were, four tireless hunters once more setting out to track down a clever and elusive quarry, in that quiet time setting that comes before any of them would need to put their skills into action, with three of them dead to the world. There was not a single visible clue to the nature of their task or the individual role any one of them played in that task when awake. All the weapons were out of sight, Broots' computer stowed overhead. To a casual observe, they could have been tired corporate executives on a red-eye flight heading for a shareholders' meeting, rather than a covert retrieval team.
Still, he knew from yet another subtle cabin pressure change that he needed to rouse Miss Parker soon, before any of the others came awake. He was deeply touched that she now trusted him enough that she might be willing to fall asleep on his shoulder when no one else - including him - was looking. But for her to be caught leaning against another, even in sleep... No, he would be wise to awaken her now, before Sam or Broots opened their eyes when the pilot made his inevitable landing announcement. Bad enough he had to awaken her, rather than let her awaken herself to the rest of them still being asleep.
He really regretted having to disturb her. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well of late, as indicated by the amount of coffee she inevitably downed the moment she hit her office and the circles under her eyes that were slowly getting darker and harder to hide with makeup. Were their circumstances any different, were they not under the gun to get to this latest of Jarod's lairs in time to actually catch the Pretender for a change, he'd be pulling medical rank and insisting that she be allowed to sleep herself out. But no, Raines had turned this hunt for Jarod into a contest with survival as the ultimate prize. She had no choices, and at this moment, neither did he.
"Parker," he said softly, leaning over her dark head and putting his lips near her ear. "Parker, its time to wake up now."
She shifted against his shoulder without waking, tightening her grip on his elbow.
Sydney gently smoothed back the stray locks of hair that had fallen into her face, then smoothed the backs of his fingers across a cheek. "C'mon Parker. Open your eyes."
She stirred again. "Go away," she muttered, rubbing at her cheek with her blanket-covered shoulder as if to chase the fingertips away.
He leaned over her again with a chuckle then murmured. "I can't, you've got a death-grip on my arm."
She finally roused, blinking slowly to get her bearings. As she awoke and realized the position she was in, first she blushed, then blanched, then almost unwillingly turned her head and looked up at Sydney with a combination of guilt and surprise.
He smiled softly at her. "There you are. I'd have let you sleep, but I figured you'd prefer to be awake when the pilot announces our landing and wakes up the others." With a sideways jerk of the head, he indicated the still-snoring Broots and the dozing Sam.
Miss Parker lifted her head to glance around at the others, then shot Sydney a look of pure gratitude. She then blushed in embarrassment as she released her tight hold on his arm and pulled away from him. As she straightened, the blanket slipped from her shoulders and let the cooler air of the cabin hit her. She caught at the soft blue blanket before it could hit the floor and turned to Syd again, this time with questions in her eyes.
The psychiatrist merely shrugged at her, finding his right side slightly stiff. "Want some help folding it?"
Miss Parker shook her head while covering a wide yawn with the back of a hand. "No thanks, I've got it." She proved her word, folding the blanket quickly and efficiently, then setting it on her lap and folding her hands demurely on top of it.
"We're making our final descent into Los Angeles," came the captain's voice over the cabin loudspeaker. "We'll be on the ground in about five minutes. There's a limo waiting for you there."
Sam's head came away from the bulkhead at the first crackle of the speaker, and he looked about the cabin in quick assessment before working his muscles as an alternative to stretching. Broots' snoring cut off abruptly with a gurgle, and soon his pale blue eyes were gazing blearily about the cabin while he struggled to return his seat to the upright position.
Miss Parker ran her fingers through her hair, quickly combing it into a semblence of its normal, casual order; while next to her, Sydney straightened his suit jacket and tightened his tie around his neck for a more business-like demeanor. As the engine noise built after touchdown to brake the little jet, she leaned back towards him and said quietly, "Thank you, Sydney... you make a very comfortable pillow."
He leaned towards her until their foreheads nearly touched. "Any time, Miss Parker. My pleasure."
"And thanks for waking me up."
Sydney started chuckling. "And protecting your reputation?" he finished for her in wry amusement, taking a chance that the intimacy of the moment could make a teenie bit of gentle teasing possible between old friends.
Miss Parker blinked at him in surprise at his rarely-displayed impudence, then turned and, with a indulgent grin of her own, punched him very gently in the very shoulder she had rested against.
Broots stared in the surprise at the sight of his boss playfully punching a grinning Sydney for no apparent reason, while Sam - ever the consummate sweeper - sighed and very diplomatically averted his eyes. Miss Parker leaned forward and glared across Sydney at Broots, who sat with mouth gaping. "Do you have a problem?" she asked crisply.
"No, ma'am!" The computer tech turned away quickly and focussed his gaze out the darkened window and the headlights of the waiting limousine near the hanger they were approaching.
She glanced sideways back at her traveling companion. "No, Sydney," she announced with soft and practiced haughtiness, the twitching lips giving away her own amusement, "THAT protected the reputation."
Then she punched him again, a little harder, when his chuckles grew into laughter.
