A/N: Little bit of a hiatus (oddly like Glee) but now I'm back. Yay! Or boo if you don't like my writing I guess. Hopefully yay though. Without giving to much away I just want to say that in Australia (where I'm from) our domestic planes have one aisle with three seats either side. Which is the design I'm using. Dunno if that how it is in other countries but whadda you gonna do? Hope you enjoy the story! :)
He shuffled slowly down the aisle of the plane; backpack slung across one shoulder and occasionally checked the row numbers printed on the storage lockers above the seats. He looked at the ticket clutched tightly in his left hand and double checked the row and seat assigned to him. He finally arrived at row 24 and looked at who he would be sitting next to for the next four to five hours. He groaned internally when he saw that the people were a mother holding a baby and her daughter of around four years old sitting next her. He smiled politely at the mother as he squeezed past her legs to sit in his seat next to the window. He placed his bag on the floor and opened it, pulling out his iPod before pushing his bag underneath the seat in front of him. He put his earphones in and started scrolling through his songs as the toddler sitting next to him watched everything he did. He looked up from his iPod and glanced at the child's unblinking eyes. She was really starting to creep him out when he noticed out of the corner of his eye someone was talking to the mother. He took one of his earphones out and pretended to study something through the window while he listened in on the conversation.
"… in the wrong seats." He caught the last of what the person in aisle was saying. It was definitely a girl's voice.
"Look missy, I don't know who you think you are but these are definitely our seats" That was the mother talking and she didn't sound very pleased. I guess I wouldn't be if I had to spend 5 hours of a plane with a baby and a toddler, he thought to himself.
"Look, it's says right here on my ticket 'Row 24 Seat E'. That's the seat your daughter is sitting in."
"This is Row 28. You're in the wrong place. Now please leave us alone."
He decided it would end the argument quicker if he stepped in.
"Um, actually this is Row 24." He said as he turned to face the two arguing women. That was when he got a good look at the girl who was supposed to be sitting next to him. She had her long blonde hair up in a high, messy ponytail and wore faded grey, skin-tight jeans, a white t-shirt and a purple cardigan. She looked around his age, about 19. He was definitely certain he would rather sit next to her than the creepy kid who was still staring at him.
The mother turned to face him, an appalled look on her face. "And who asked your opinion, young man?"
"Is there a problem here?" An effeminate looking steward asked as he approached.
"Yes there is. These two people have the wrong seats and keep bothering me and my children. I want them removed from the plane." The mother complained loudly to the air steward.
The steward rolled his eyes, clearly used to disputes about seating. He turned to the girl standing next to him (who was currently engaged at shooting daggers from her eyes at the mother) and then back to the mother. "May I see your tickets please ladies?"
They passed him their tickets which he then checked against the row number above him. He passed back the tickets and turned to the lady sitting down; who was doing everything she could to ignore the glare she was currently receiving. "Maam, you and your children are in the wrong seats. This row 24, you are seated four rows back in row 28. Please move there immediately."
The lady gave the steward the same glare she was still receiving from the girl before getting up and taking her children down to their correct seats. The girl watched them leave before turning to the steward. "Thank you…" She paused as she read his name tag. "...Kurt."
"Not a problem, miss." Kurt replied before walking away to attend to another dispute.
As the girl moved across to the seat next to him he turned his attention back to the window. As she sat down she turned to him and spoke: "And thank you for trying to help."
He turned and gave her a small smile of acknowledgement before returning his gaze out the window. The crew began the safety demonstrations and then made sure everything was checked for take-off. The plane began to taxi down the runway and he began to get nervous. He hated flying. There is no good reason why a huge piece of hollow metal filled with people should stay in the sky. He gripped the armrests on either side of him tightly as the plain began to pick up speed. The girl obviously noticed his change in behaviour and looked at him quizzically.
"Are you alright?" She asked, a look of concern crossing her features. "You seem to be sweating a lot."
He relinquished his grip one of the armrests just long enough to wipe away the sweat that had formed on his forehead. "Yeah, I just hate flying." The speed of plane increased as it approached take-off. She noticed his knuckles turning white as gripped the armrests as hard as he could and the rest of his skin turning pale. She watched him scrunch his eyes shut tight as the plane left the ground and flew up into the sky. After a few minutes when he hadn't opened his eyes again she became concerned.
"Are you okay?" She asked and in response got a couple of nods.
"Are you going to keep your eyes shut for the whole flight?"
"Mhmm" He replied in the affirmative.
"Maybe if you read the magazine that will distract you?" She offered, trying to help this poor guy.
"Dyslexic" Was all he replied with.
"I'm sorry?" She asked, not understanding.
"I'm dyslexic. Can't focus on the words."
"Ohh" She was trying to help but he was being quite rude to her. She gave up and picked up the in-flight magazine and started to read about the hottest holidays destinations this month.
"Keep talking."
She looked up at him trying to figure out she had imagined him speaking.
"Please keep talking. It helps." He asked her again.
"Oh! Um, okay… why are you flying to Columbus?" She asked him.
"Visiting family. For Christmas." He opened the corner of one eye a little to look at her.
"I'm doing the same. What are your family like?" She asked.
"Dad, Mum, younger brother, younger sister. Pretty normal, I guess."
"How old are your siblings?" She asked noticing his grip on the armrests easing up a little.
"Stevie's 16 and Stacy's 14. How about your family?" He asked as some colour returned to his complexion.
"Just my Mum and my older sister. Dad left when I was in high school, haven't seen him since." She replied, watching him get less and less nervous.
"That sucks. I'm sorry." He opened his eyes and turned to look at her before offering his hand. "I'm Sam."
She spoke as she shook his hand: "Quinn. Nice to meet you."
He turned back to the window. "Holy shit!" He slammed down the blind on the window and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He looked across to Quinn and saw that she was giggling to her hand.
He glared at her. "It's not funny."
She regained her composure and gave him an apologetic smile. "It was a little funny."
"So let me guess." He started. "You moved to L.A. and became an actress."
"I'm not an actress." She replied, rolling her eyes. Of course he was just going to be like every other guy with the lame pick up lines.
"Oh. Why'd you quit?" He asked.
"How many times has that worked?" She asked him.
"None, but it's always fun for me." He said as a lopsided grin started to spread across his face. "So what do you actually do?"
"I'm a script writer."
"Oh, done anything I would know?"
She looked down at her hands when she replied. "I haven't actually got a job yet."
"Oh." He stated awkwardly. "Well, I'm sure you'll get an offer eventually."
She snorted. "I've had offers, they've just always involved me doing things I wasn't prepared to do."
He didn't catch on. "What things?"
"You know, like… things." She raised her eyebrows suggestively as she said the last word.
"Ah, gotcha." He said. "Heaps of the models at the agency do things to get jobs but I've always thought it was awful."
"You're a model?" She asked.
"No. But thanks." He smirked. "I work at the agency as an assistant."
"You must love that job, hanging around models all day."
"Not really. Because they know they're pretty they think they can get away with anything. Half of them are really terrible people because of it."
"So why did you move to L.A.? You didn't dream of being an assistant when you were growing up did you?"
"No, I wanted to be a photographer or a cameraman or something like that. But you know, you can't just jump straight in the deep end. There's a whole bunch of ass kissing to go through first."
"Truth."
There was bump that shook the cabin and the captain explained over the loudspeaker that there may be some turbulence. Sam's hands had returned to their former position of being attached to the armrests.
Quinn placed her hands on his and gave it a small squeeze, to reassure him. "We'll pass through it in about a minute, I'm sure."
He locked eyes with her and smiled before letting go of the armrests. He kept a hold of her hand though.
They spent the rest of the flight chatting and getting to know each other, Sam almost forgetting that he was on a plane half the time. Then the captain came on over the loudspeaker, informing that they would be landing in around 5 minutes and due to wind it might be quite bumpy.
Quinn took a hold of his hand again. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Landing is definitely the worst part. Worse than take-off." He looked nervous again.
The captain had been right and the cabin was starting to move around. Sam was getting more and more uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat.
As the plane height dropped, Sam breathing began to pick up speed. He shut his eyes and leant back in his chair.
"Sam, look at me." Quinn said but he didn't move.
"Sam." She spoke in a much more commanding manner. "Look at me."
He wrenched open his eyes are turned to her. She looked deep into his eyes and she smiled comfortingly. Time seemed to slow down, just a little, as her pink lips separated and then joined his. They felt as soft as they looked and he lost himself in the kiss, barely even registering the plane touching down and then coming to a stop. Quinn broke the kiss and they slowly came back to reality as people began to disembark from the plane. They both hurriedly grabbed their stuff and joined the queue of people filing down the aisle. As they exited Kurt, the steward from earlier, spoke to them.
"I hope you had a nice flight." He said, giving them a wink.
Once they had reached the terminal Quinn turned to face Sam. She borrowed a pen from a lady waiting near them and grabbed his forearm. She wrote her number down and then kissed him on the cheek. "Call me sometime. Who knows, we might be on the same flight back?"
He watched her walk off and didn't see his mother cannonball into his side. "Oh my baby, I'm so glad you're safe."
His dad shook his hand that wasn't pinned to his side by his mother. "How was the flight, son?"
"Best flight I've ever had." Sam as his eyes followed Quinn until she became lost in the crowd.
A/N: So yeah, when I started writing this I thought it was gonna be a one-shot but now I'm not so sure... Let me know if you think I should continue it or just leave it there. Oh, and please review because it makes my heart grow three sizes.