Alastair looked at her in silence for a long moment. "Are you serious?"
Dar nodded. "As a heart attack."
Her boss's eyes twinkled. "That might be the nicest thing you ever said to me," he said. "Thank you, Paladar." He paused. "Now let me tell you something. You remember when you sent me that resignation letter?"
Dar nodded.
"Had mine written out too, stapled to it," Alastair said. "So it's probably a pretty good thing for the company you decided to stay." He considered. "Though, gotta admit there have been times lately I almost wish you hadn't."
"Yeah," Dar said. "I know what you mean." She hoisted herself out of her chair and stood, stretching her body out before she crossed the aisle and knelt next to where her boss was sprawled. "Thanks, Alastair. I know I've been a pain in the ass over the years." She held her hand out, and as he reached over, she clasped his in a powerful grip. "Hope it was worth it."
He chuckled again. "Bet your ass it was." He released her hand. "You know, the one bright spot of that whole mess with Steven and you was getting to meet Kerry for the first time."
Predictably, that made Dar grin. She got up and strolled down the aisle, exploring their little world. "She was so pissed at me for quitting."
"She's a firecracker," Alastair said. "You know she called me up and told me I had to get my ass on an airplane and get over there because everyone in that office was an idiot who didn't have a clue."
Dar turned and looked at him, both eyebrows lifted up to her hairline.
"Not in so many words," her boss admitted. "But that was the gist couched in soft, gentile Midwestern politeness, and it was at that point I realized you were gone hook line and sinker for very good reason." He smiled at Dar's sheepish expression. "She was your match."
Dar leaned back against the wall of the cabin. "She is," she said quietly. "She changed my life."
"She up for being a beach bum too?" Alastair asked. "I thought she likes the craziness."
"After this last cluster, she's open to it," Dar responded. "She does like the job. She likes the energy of it."
"But?"
Dar looked mildly embarrassed. "She'll go wherever I go."
"Loyal kinda gal." Alastair commented, with a smile. "But then, you're two of a kind in that regard so I'm guessing the company's in for a world of hurt some day."
"Mmph."
The door to the front of the plane opened, and a tall, lanky, young man entered. He was dressed in a pair of pressed black slacks and a ribbed black pullover, with striped epaulets on his shoulders. "Ma'am, sir," the man said. "We've run into a weather issue and wanted to advise you on it. A tropical depression has formed in the Gulf, and the outflow is going to extrude into our course and make it a very rough ride."
"Can we go around it?" Alastair asked. "My kidneys are not in the mood to be rattled tonight."
"I can certainly ask, sir," the man replied. "It might make us need to change our flight plan though," he said. "We're taking a very long route over the Southern Caribbean to avoid US airspace and this would mean a shift nearer to the coast of South America."
Dar and Alastair exchanged looks. "Depression look like it's going get worse?" Dar asked. "Strengthen?"
The man nodded. "They expect it to become Tropical storm Gabrielle tomorrow."
"Let's avoid it if we can," Dar said. "Nothing against your pilot's skills but I'm not in the mood for a swim off Tortola today."
"I'm not up for a swim off Tortola any day," Alastair chimed in. "Even though I do float like a cork."
The man nodded, and disappeared again.
Alastair grunted. "Figures."
Dar leaned back against the wall again. "That time of year," she said. "Wish I'd taken Gerry up on his offer now," she admitted. "He sounded like he had a thousand irons in the fire though."
Alastair regarded her. "Lady, if you think these old bones wanted to spend eight hours crossing the pond in an Airborne jumpseat you're nutty as a fruitcake without any rum in it."
Dar chuckled, and started to roam again, walking to the front of the cabin past the service bulkhead she'd been leaning against, then turning and moving along the rows of chairs to the back where a small suite of bathrooms were tucked. "I'm pretty sure he meant a civilian transport, Alastair. I'm sure they had other people that needed a ride home, diplomats and whatever."
"Let them ride in a steel bucket seat," Alastair said. "Damn politicians spend most of their time busting my chops anyway."
Dar went over to where their carry on baggage was stowed and dug in hers, removing her bathroom kit and retreating with it into the typically small airplane facility.
For shorter people, it was bearable. For Dar, the experience usually left her with a crick in her neck and so she brushed her teeth and splashed some water on her face as quickly as she could. The nap had definitely cleared her head, but now that she was awake, the uncertainty of what was going on below was starting to gnaw at her again.
She checked her watch. Kerry was up and working by now, she was sure. It was maddening to know her partner was in the middle of who knows what and not be able to help. Not that she thought Kerry needed her in order to do her job--her performance the day before amply demonstrated that--but they were in uncharted territory right now and she had the greater experience.
Dar gazed at her reflection in the mirror, seeing the somber furrow in her brow. "She's going to be fine," she told herself. "She's just going to Herndon, and she knows how to deflect someone if she has to."
Kerry did. She could politely, charmingly, and warmly tell the most demanding, insistent customer they weren't going to get what they wanted and leave them unable to voice a complaint about it. Dar had seen her do it on more than one occasion, and she had no doubt she could handle whatever request awaited her there.
She studied the blue eyes reflected in the glass surface. "So why are you chewing nails?"
Was she afraid Kerry would do so well, she'd show how much she didn't need the support? Dar's nose wrinkled. "Yeesh I hope not." She really didn't think so, though. It was actually a pleasure to be able to count on someone and not have to worry about babysitting them at work.
Was she worried her prolonged contact with her family would change the way she felt about anything? About anyone? Dar watched her own eyebrow lift, and her lips curve into a smile. No. She was not worried about that.
She was, she reasoned, worried about the person she loved most in the world simply because that's what people in love did. They worried.
She packed up her kit and bumped the door open, emerging into the main cabin of the plane and restoring her sundries to her bag. Alastair had turned his reading light off, and was standing near the front of the plane, peering out the window in the boarding door. "See any good birds?"
"I see a lot of ocean," Alastair responded. "Imagine what it was like for the first fellas who crossed that thing in a boat. That took a lot of guts."
"It's a big ocean," Dar agreed, coming over to stand by him. "I've only sailed part of it, and those long stretches of only water really hit you sometimes," she said. "And I've been caught in storms that made me wonder how sun and star navigators ever made it across."
"Ah yes. Captain Roberts, isn't it?" Alastair glanced at her, with a grin.
She smiled back. "Yes, it is"
The door behind them opened and the steward came back in. "Oh." He turned, evidently surprised not to see them sitting in their seats. "The captain says he's filing an amendment to our flight plan, that'll bring us just north of the Grenadines, and along the south coast of Cuba and then across to Mexico. It means adding an hour to the flight, but it will end up being a lot smoother. We were intending on slipping between Cuba and Florida before.