OKAY so I'm definitely still working on Finding a New Nickname but I tend to work best when I multi-task, and I've had this idea floating around for a week or two now. I love the holiday AUs, and I wanted to try one that simulated the 100 experience in our everyday life.
SO. Here is Gate A13, a story of 100 college students snowed into the airport two days before Christmas. I'm planning at least another few chapters - here, I'm just setting the scene. Enjoy! Let me know what you think!
"Don't forget that you can check a bag if you need to! I'm going to pick you up at drop off, not at pick up, because it's going to be a madhouse here. Remind me again why you couldn't get home any earlier than this? December 23rd, Clarke! Evening at that! Why not come back on New Year's Day? I mean honestly! You know what, forget I said that, I don't want to give you any ideas—"
Clarke Griffin held her phone away from her face and grimaced. She could still hear her mother's insistent tone blaring, but mercifully, she could no longer decipher the words. Sucking in a steadying breath, Clarke returned the traitorous gadget to her ear in time to hear her mother demanding to know if she had put the phone on mute again.
"No, Mom, I'm here. But I think - what's that sir? - oh Mom, TSA is coming over here, I gotta go. I'll call you when I land. Bye love you see you later!" Clarke slammed her thumb onto the big red 'end call' button, and let out a long breath of relief at the delicious silence that followed. There was, of course, no TSA agent. Her shuttle was just now pulling into the airport and there was at least ten minutes of traffic between her and her terminal. Sometimes, desperate times called for desperate measures.
"First time flying home?" A sympathetic voice sounded behind her, and Clarke turned to look over her shoulder at the skinny Asian boy leaning on the back of her chair, offering her the friendliest smile she'd seen all day.
"Third. You wouldn't know it, though." Clarke laughed, shaking her phone in the air as if to punish it for her mother's overbearing worry. The boy laughed as well, holding out his hand.
"It's my second time. My flight's not for two hours and I've already turned my phone on airplane mode so my mother would stop texting me. I'm Monty." His introduction rivaled his smile in warmth, and Clarke found herself grasping his hand, giving it a squeeze and a shake.
"I'm Clarke. Nice to meet you." She answered, feeling her smile spread a bit at this boy's charm. He had an easy way about him, and she could feel her stomach already settling from the tailspin her mother had sent it into. "Do you want to...?" Clarke pulled her duffel bag off the seat next to her, waving vaguely at the navy and lime green upholstery. Monty was quick to accept, swinging himself around to land next to her, his large backpack tucked safely between his feet.
"Thanks!" He chirped, and Clarke laughed again. Perhaps there was hope yet for this travel day from hell. "So where are you headed?"
••••••••••••
"Chicago!" Disbelief turned Bellamy Blake's question into a shout that drew the attention of most of the other passengers on their metro car, muted concern coloring the faces of all but the one he thought really ought to be concerned: Octavia Blake, his delightfully obstinate little sister who, at present, stood across the crowded aisle from him with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"Oh, come ON, Bell!" Octavia's voice had a whining tone that she had all but abandoned in her later teenage years. It's appearance now was a bad omen as far as Bellamy's patience was concerned, and he sent his left thumb and middle finger flying to the bridge of his nose, squeezing them tightly enough to leave large indents in their wakes.
"O. When I told you to book the tickets, what'd I say?" He spoke slowly and deliberately, squeezing his dark eyes closed in a desperate bid to banish the pounding headache that was coming to fruition behind his creased forehead.
"You said Little Rock but Bell, there's nothing in Arkansas and—" Octavia began speaking quickly, but Bellamy's eyes flew open.
"Nothing in Arkansas! Nothing but our uncle and free board and a temp gig with my name on it!" Bellamy's lips were drawn in on themselves, his eyes darkened as he drew his brows together, trying every weapon in his arsenal to communicate to his sister how not okay this all was. "O, come on."
"You come on, Bellamy!" Ah, the full name. Goodbye, any hope at a mature discussion. "You never want to do anything that's even remotely fun. Why are you so serious all the time? It's Christmas break! Chicago! The bean! It's going to be fun!" Bellamy threw his hands in the air, laughing bitterly.
"Fun! How could I forget the bean! How goddamn ridiculous of me!" He growled, his anger only stoked by the satisfied smirk that had found its way onto his younger companion's heart-shaped features. Her eyes danced, and he groaned, willing his own eyes to close once more.
"We're going." Octavia declared. It was not an announcement. No, it was a recognition: Bellamy had surrendered as soon as she'd played the 'fun' card - Octavia had always been his weak spot, and despite how vehemently the thought of adventuring in a city known for its wind and its prices distressed him, he couldn't find it in his heart to deny her. Not at Christmas. Not after the year they'd had.
••••••••••••
"How could I say no?" Raven Reyes gushed. That was an unusual sight in itself - if there's anything Raven avoids doing, it's gushing. Especially in public. And yet, here she was. Gushing. Positively glowing.
"She said yes!" Finn Collins leapt to his feet from where he had been kneeling on one knee, grabbing Raven's left hand and throwing it in the air in a move that made more sense at the end of a wrestling match than it did in the lobby of the Boston airport. Smattering of applause, enthusiastic and obligatory alike, spread around them like wildfire. For that moment, they had the attention of the entire terminal. Shouted 'congrats!' and murmured 'happy holidays' followed, and as quickly as it had all come, they were alone again.
"Finn..." Raven shook her head, dark eyes glittering as she took his face between her hands and leaned forward. His eyes fluttered closed, but his lips remained startlingly lonely. After a moment, he peeked one open to spot his girlfriend - fiancée's - flushed features hovering in front of his.
"Babe?" Finn ventured after a moment. His dark haired companion seemed to snap out of the stupor she'd been in, a positively gobsmacked expression taking its place. "You okay?"
"What?" Raven asked, her characteristic rough edge finding its way back into her facade. Finn chuckled, and wagged his fingers in the slight space between their faces.
"You spaced out there for a second, moon cadet," He teased, "Can't wait until we get to Chicago to gaze into my eyes?" Raven offered a phlegm-y snort in response, sending disgusted wrinkles up Finn's curved nose.
"I was admiring the rock, you goof." Her voice positively twinkled as she taunted him right back, tapping the inside of the ring against the edge of his cheek. A garbled voice sounded above them, echoing through the terminal courtesy of the P.A. system - a slightly out-dated one, Raven couldn't help but note - and snapped the entangled pair out of their personal slice of heaven.
••••••••••••
"We'd better get our butts in ge-ear!" Jasper Jordan bent one knee and pulled his elbow into his side, miming changing the gears on a manual shift car and doing an absolutely shit job of it. His shout carried to its intended recipient: his longtime best friend and future roommate Monty Green, who had just appeared between the automated doors that were intended to control the flow of traffic but, given the holiday rush, had now been open for a potentially record-breaking fifteen minutes straight. Monty was followed by a girl Jasper didn't recognize - blonde, short, and chuckling. Monty's companion, then, and a walking, talking opportunity for Jasper to prove what he held most true and dear: that he was funnier than Monty.
"Jasper!" The stockier of the two comedians broke into a light jog, reaching Jasper's side with arms outstretched. Opportunity numero uno. Jasper spread his arms wide as if to wrap Monty in his loving embrace, but at the last second, Jasper threw himself backwards and waved his arms in front of him.
"Jellyfish!" He hollered, watching with a satisfied smirk as Monty's arms closed around air and inadvertently connected his hands with the sides of his head.
"You ass!" Monty yelped, untangling himself from his own limbs and scowling towards the taller, lankier boy who was already sliding towards Monty's blonde companion with one hand outstretched. To her credit, she looked wholly unimpressed with the whole exchange, although her blue eyes danced with mirth. The poker face was strong with this one.
"Jasper Jordan, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Jasper bowed deeply, his floating hand soon occupied by a much smaller, and yet oddly firmer grip.
"Clarke Griffin. I've heard a lot about you." Clarke smirked, although a laugh soon escaped her pursed lips as Jasper planted a particularly wet kiss on the back of her hand, and she snatched it back to her chest with a comically distressed cry, wiping it desperately on front of her parka.
"Then that should have come as no surprise." Jasper chided grimly, before grunting as Monty's shoulder jabbed firmly into his ribcage. "Hey!"
"Don't freak her out, Jasper," Monty cast a pleading smile at Clarke, before turning his mocking scowl back at Jasper once more, "She's on our flight to Chicago and I was hoping she'd take the third seat in our row so we don't get stuck with a Smelly McSmellerson again." This warning sobered Jasper up immediately. Monty was right. Whatever the cost, personal or monetary, Smelly-gate 2013 must NOT be reprised.
"Can I carry your bag, Clarke?" Jasper's question was positively confectionary in its sweetness as he plucked Clarke's duffel from her shoulder and held it with utter reverence, leading the ragtag trio towards the ever-growing security line.
"You two are ridiculous." Clarke admonished, but she couldn't banish the affection from her voice. What had started out looking like a positively nasty day was turning out to be at least somewhat tolerable. She could have found worse company than the bouncing duo that currently held her duffel, one handle occupied by each boy, and she'd taken Monty's advice and switched her phone to airplane mode - no more nagging Mother Griffin, at least for the time being.
The boys had brought them to the end of the snaking line into the security checkpoint, and babbled at each other about whether drinking two milkshakes prior to takeoff was a terrible idea or a great idea. Clarke let her gaze wander, content that their rather loud discussion would discourage other passengers from attempting to engage her in conversation, leaving her to her musing.
There was a black-haired girl just in front of them who was stretching her left hand out and wiggling her ring finger, making the multi-colored fairy lights catch the massive diamond that perched there. She had two large duffel bags - clearly not both hers - and Clarke marveled at her bravery for holding a spot in line during the Christmas rush.
At the curve of the line, a striking pair that must have been siblings had their dark heads leaned in close. Their facial expressions implied arguing, but their body language communicated anything but: they were connected at the toes, hips, and shoulders. It was pairs like these that made Clarke pine for a sibling to connect with - a teammate to face the insanity her mother brought to anything that required even the slightest bit of planning.
A cry of wonder from behind her drew Clarke's attention back to the front of the airport, where a wall of windows was decorated with garlands and twinkling lights. The holiday crowd had ceased its milling for a moment, and fingers were sending excited gazes out the window and onto the bus ramp. What was everyone on about…?
Snow.
It was snowing. Tiny white flurries transformed the gray sky from a depressing reminder of the long day ahead of her into a dancing promise of winter cheer to come. Christmas spirit indeed.