original: "boarding at gate <3" slash.
Summary: Sometimes you have something to be thankful for, even if you're traveling over the holidays.
"You know what I'm thankful for?" Rick asked. "Getting a flight out."
"It's after Thanksgiving," his sister Marie said, snapping her gum as she rolled her suitcase alongside him. "You can stop being thankful."
"Thanks-oops," Rick said sarcastically. Marie only rolled her eyes and pulled in front of him, her heels clicking along with the snap of her gum.
"At least we don't have to come back until Christmas," Marie said. "If I have to hear mom moan about how neither one of us have boyfriends one more time-"
"I know," Rick said, "but give her a break. She and dad are like the happiest freaking couple on earth, and she wants us to have the same."
"Mnah mnah mnah," Marie mimicked, making a face. "Why do you always make excuses for everyone, Ricky? God, I wish you'd just be a jerk for a change. It makes me look extra bitchy next to you."
"No, it's your dress that does that."
"Correction: I wish you would be a jerk to other people who are not me for a change."
Rick laughed. "C'mon, we're gonna miss our flight. I know you need coffee before you fly coach."
"Seriously," Marie griped. "Did you have to give our first-class tickets away to that lady with the kid in the wheelchair?"
"It's the holidays, Marie."
"I know, I know. I don’t have to like it, do I?"
Rick shook his head. "No, you don't. Just think of those little bottles of vodka I'll buy you once we're seated."
"Mm, vodka. You do know the way to a girl's heart."
"Maybe that's why I don't have a boyfriend," Rick said. "I'm targeting the wrong audience!"
Marie laughed and swatted his arm. "Come on, idiot. I can smell coffee up ahead. You're buying."
"Yeah, yeah, story of my life."
They were still laughing as they rounded the corner and someone slammed into Marie, sending her crashing into Rick's side. He caught her, but at the expense of their suitcases, which went flying and burst open, spilling clothes and toiletries.
If that weren't bad enough, the man who had crashed into Marie glared at them both and barked, "Watch where you're going, idiots!"
And Rick, who was not usually a confrontational guy, but who was now holding his bruised sister in his arms, snapped.
"Excuse me, asshole?" He said, first righting Marie and then stomping over to the guy, getting up in his face. "I think you want to rephrase that."
"I don't think I do," the guy sneered.
"Let me put it this way," Rick said. "If you don't rephrase that, I'll rephrase your face."
The guy looked Rick's slim frame up and down and smirked. "You and what army? I bet that bitch throws a better punch than you, small fry."
So Rick clocked him.
"And that's how it started, uh, officer," Rick said, sitting in an airport detention room twenty minutes later, his underarms sweating profusely as he held an ice pack to the cut over his eyebrow.
"I see," said the head of airport security. The man was around Rick's age, maybe older, and he had sandy brown hair and high cheekbones. His eyes had faint laugh lines at the corners but so far the guy hadn't cracked a smile once, which was a shame because Rick would bet that the guy was even more gorgeous when he smiled. He looked rugged and fit, and his muscled arms flexed as he crossed them over his uniform. His name badge read "B. Morgan."
"Can I go now?" Rick asked timidly.
Morgan's jaw clenched briefly. "Not just yet, Mr. Dailey."
"I don't have a bomb," Rick said. "My sister Marie just shouted that so security would come faster. That guy I was fighting had like forty pounds on me and she was afraid he'd pummel me into the ground before help got there."
This time, Rick was sure he saw Morgan's lips twitch. "Ms. Dailey is being detained down the hall while we question her separately. But the way I hear it, you were giving the other gentleman a run for his money."
"I swear I'm not normally like that! But he called my sister a bitch. After he nearly knocked us over and acted like an asshole about it. He deserved it. Even the kick to the crotch Marie gave him."
"Unofficially," Morgan said, leaning closer and putting his hands on the table. "After reviewing the footage, it looks to me like he did."
Rick relaxed and slumped in his chair. "So you're not sending me to Guantanamo? You believe I'm not a mad terrorist?"
Morgan eyed Rick in an appraising way. "Well, now, I don't know. Terrorists come in all shapes and sizes. You'd be the first adorable pint-sized one I've had walk through my door, but then again, there's a first time for everything."
"Look, I promise I'm not-wait, adorable?"
Morgan sat down across from Rick and propped his elbows on the table. All that movement caused a lot of muscles to flex under Morgan's tight uniform, and Rick fully appreciated that.
"Adorable," Morgan agreed. "I probably should have cut you loose half and hour ago, but I enjoyed hearing you babble about your life. Plus, when I brought your sister into the other room for questioning, she took one look at me and told me that you were single."
"Wow," Rick said. "On a scale of one to face on fire, how embarrassed should I be?"
"That depends," Morgan said. "Are you single?"
"Uh," Rick said. "If I say yes, does that make me a dangerous loner and thus more likely to be a terrorist?"
"No, but it does mean I'm seriously considering frisking you for the fun of it."
"That's abuse of power!" Rick squeaked.
"Probably," Morgan said, smiling wide, and wow, he was incredibly attractive when he did that. Rick wouldn't protest a cavity search at this point.
"I'm single," Rick muttered to the side, suddenly unable to meet Morgan's eyes.
"Excellent," Morgan said. "My name's Brody, by the way. What do you say to dinner?"
"I say… yes?" Rick said. "Sorry, but-do you go out with all the guys you cuff?"
"No," Brody said. "But I do cuff all the guys I go out with." He winked.
"Good to know," Rick said, his throat gone dry.
Brody's sly expression shifted into something more nervous, and he stared down at his hands for a minute. "In the interest of full disclosure," he said. "I have a confession to make."
"What?"
"I saw you on the security monitors. I was… I was watching you. I saw you give up your tickets to that woman. And I saw you pay for that old couple when they didn't have the right change at the snack bar. And I saw how you smiled at people and let that little boy cut in front of you for the bathroom. I was going to show up at your boarding gate, you know. Maybe try to talk to you. Something about you, I just couldn't-"
Brody looked up. "I was really hoping that woman I saw you laughing with wasn't your girlfriend. Imagine my thankfulness."
Rick felt himself blush. "My sister was wrong, you know. She said after Thanksgiving, you don't have to be thankful anymore."
"I'm thankful," Brody said, a shy smile growing on his face.
"Me too," Rick said, beaming right back.
"You know what I'm thankful for?" Rick asked. "Getting a flight out."
"It's after Thanksgiving," his sister Marie said, snapping her gum as she rolled her suitcase alongside him. "You can stop being thankful."
"Thanks-oops," Rick said sarcastically. Marie only rolled her eyes and pulled in front of him, her heels clicking along with the snap of her gum.
"At least we don't have to come back until Christmas," Marie said. "If I have to hear mom moan about how neither one of us have boyfriends one more time-"
"I know," Rick said, "but give her a break. She and dad are like the happiest freaking couple on earth, and she wants us to have the same."
"Mnah mnah mnah," Marie mimicked, making a face. "Why do you always make excuses for everyone, Ricky? God, I wish you'd just be a jerk for a change. It makes me look extra bitchy next to you."
"No, it's your dress that does that."
"Correction: I wish you would be a jerk to other people who are not me for a change."
Rick laughed. "C'mon, we're gonna miss our flight. I know you need coffee before you fly coach."
"Seriously," Marie griped. "Did you have to give our first-class tickets away to that lady with the kid in the wheelchair?"
"It's the holidays, Marie."
"I know, I know. I don’t have to like it, do I?"
Rick shook his head. "No, you don't. Just think of those little bottles of vodka I'll buy you once we're seated."
"Mm, vodka. You do know the way to a girl's heart."
"Maybe that's why I don't have a boyfriend," Rick said. "I'm targeting the wrong audience!"
Marie laughed and swatted his arm. "Come on, idiot. I can smell coffee up ahead. You're buying."
"Yeah, yeah, story of my life."
They were still laughing as they rounded the corner and someone slammed into Marie, sending her crashing into Rick's side. He caught her, but at the expense of their suitcases, which went flying and burst open, spilling clothes and toiletries.
If that weren't bad enough, the man who had crashed into Marie glared at them both and barked, "Watch where you're going, idiots!"
And Rick, who was not usually a confrontational guy, but who was now holding his bruised sister in his arms, snapped.
"Excuse me, asshole?" He said, first righting Marie and then stomping over to the guy, getting up in his face. "I think you want to rephrase that."
"I don't think I do," the guy sneered.
"Let me put it this way," Rick said. "If you don't rephrase that, I'll rephrase your face."
The guy looked Rick's slim frame up and down and smirked. "You and what army? I bet that bitch throws a better punch than you, small fry."
So Rick clocked him.
"And that's how it started, uh, officer," Rick said, sitting in an airport detention room twenty minutes later, his underarms sweating profusely as he held an ice pack to the cut over his eyebrow.
"I see," said the head of airport security. The man was around Rick's age, maybe older, and he had sandy brown hair and high cheekbones. His eyes had faint laugh lines at the corners but so far the guy hadn't cracked a smile once, which was a shame because Rick would bet that the guy was even more gorgeous when he smiled. He looked rugged and fit, and his muscled arms flexed as he crossed them over his uniform. His name badge read "B. Morgan."
"Can I go now?" Rick asked timidly.
Morgan's jaw clenched briefly. "Not just yet, Mr. Dailey."
"I don't have a bomb," Rick said. "My sister Marie just shouted that so security would come faster. That guy I was fighting had like forty pounds on me and she was afraid he'd pummel me into the ground before help got there."
This time, Rick was sure he saw Morgan's lips twitch. "Ms. Dailey is being detained down the hall while we question her separately. But the way I hear it, you were giving the other gentleman a run for his money."
"I swear I'm not normally like that! But he called my sister a bitch. After he nearly knocked us over and acted like an asshole about it. He deserved it. Even the kick to the crotch Marie gave him."
"Unofficially," Morgan said, leaning closer and putting his hands on the table. "After reviewing the footage, it looks to me like he did."
Rick relaxed and slumped in his chair. "So you're not sending me to Guantanamo? You believe I'm not a mad terrorist?"
Morgan eyed Rick in an appraising way. "Well, now, I don't know. Terrorists come in all shapes and sizes. You'd be the first adorable pint-sized one I've had walk through my door, but then again, there's a first time for everything."
"Look, I promise I'm not-wait, adorable?"
Morgan sat down across from Rick and propped his elbows on the table. All that movement caused a lot of muscles to flex under Morgan's tight uniform, and Rick fully appreciated that.
"Adorable," Morgan agreed. "I probably should have cut you loose half and hour ago, but I enjoyed hearing you babble about your life. Plus, when I brought your sister into the other room for questioning, she took one look at me and told me that you were single."
"Wow," Rick said. "On a scale of one to face on fire, how embarrassed should I be?"
"That depends," Morgan said. "Are you single?"
"Uh," Rick said. "If I say yes, does that make me a dangerous loner and thus more likely to be a terrorist?"
"No, but it does mean I'm seriously considering frisking you for the fun of it."
"That's abuse of power!" Rick squeaked.
"Probably," Morgan said, smiling wide, and wow, he was incredibly attractive when he did that. Rick wouldn't protest a cavity search at this point.
"I'm single," Rick muttered to the side, suddenly unable to meet Morgan's eyes.
"Excellent," Morgan said. "My name's Brody, by the way. What do you say to dinner?"
"I say… yes?" Rick said. "Sorry, but-do you go out with all the guys you cuff?"
"No," Brody said. "But I do cuff all the guys I go out with." He winked.
"Good to know," Rick said, his throat gone dry.
Brody's sly expression shifted into something more nervous, and he stared down at his hands for a minute. "In the interest of full disclosure," he said. "I have a confession to make."
"What?"
"I saw you on the security monitors. I was… I was watching you. I saw you give up your tickets to that woman. And I saw you pay for that old couple when they didn't have the right change at the snack bar. And I saw how you smiled at people and let that little boy cut in front of you for the bathroom. I was going to show up at your boarding gate, you know. Maybe try to talk to you. Something about you, I just couldn't-"
Brody looked up. "I was really hoping that woman I saw you laughing with wasn't your girlfriend. Imagine my thankfulness."
Rick felt himself blush. "My sister was wrong, you know. She said after Thanksgiving, you don't have to be thankful anymore."
"I'm thankful," Brody said, a shy smile growing on his face.
"Me too," Rick said, beaming right back.