Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Notes: I haven't written anything in about 10 yearsbut this story just wouldn't go away, so with pen to paper, this is what came out. Would love some reviews. Am thinking about the next chapters so it would be wonderful to hear from this bunch of talented writers.


She lets out a small sigh. Another flight, another plane load of passengers, another day of serving drinks, passing out pillows and helping people fly the friendly skies.

She's been at this for almost 15 years and while the polish and shine of the job has worn off, She still amuses herself by selecting a few passengers and guessing where they are going and, most importantly, why. This game requires a lot of time which working in the main cabin doesn't always afford, but fortunately she's on first class duty today and the smaller group always makes things easier. She mentally ticks her regular flyers off the list of potential candidates and, as she can pick out a person who is travelling on business instantly, the field is narrowed considerably. It's time to take a look at the remaining few.

She starts with 1A & 1B, Window and aisle (she has long stopped thinking of passengers in terms of race, gender or sexuality. They are all seat numbers now). She takes mental notes as they get settled into their seats. She notes the extra casual clothing, that they already have the sound proof earphones out, and that they both have that world weary look about them that says they've been travelling for awhile and are ready to be finished with this flight, even before it takes off. She concludes that they are returning home from a long holiday.

Now on to 3C Aisle, the one with the gleam of excitement and nervousness in their eye. She observes the constant flipping through travel books and maps. She saw the brand new carryon when they lifted it up into the overhead. They are wearing brand new walking shoes and probably have brand new everything. This is a first timer, a new traveller flushed with the kind of excitement that only travelling to a new country and gaining that first passport stamp can bring. She knows that look well, she sees it every flight.

She finally rests her gaze on 4F, Window. Now this is an interesting one. She sees the constant changing expression. She noticed the checking for messages on the mobile before takeoff and the overall look of, something, relief maybe, once the plane was in flight. Her interest in piqued. She looks at her passenger list and sees they were a last minute upgrade to first. The gals at the gates must have taken pity as there wasn't a price adjustment to go with it nor an airline miles card. Yep, the gals on the front lines were ol' softies for a sad face and 4F fit the bill perfectly.

But it was more than sadness in that face. She saw a hundred different emotions run across those eyes all flight. What was not there was the signs of the shiny new excitement of the first time traveller nor was there the worn-weary look of someone heading home.

Catherine's mouth played with a sad smile, she had found her challenge.


An hour until landing and Cat feels the pieces on 4F falling into place. She watched as they sat with their eyes focused out the window, staring into the black night, searching for meaning in their actions. When she brought dinner, there was a small joke about a ham & cheese sandwich, but any pleasure in the joke was gone before they finished their sentence. For a drink, they wistfully asked for a coke as a small smile crept across their rather sullen features. She even thought she heard them whisper the word jinx when she handed it to them. In an instant, any signs of emotion were gone. It was as if they had stopped trying to feel anything.

They had welcomed the darkness when the lights where dimmed for the in-flight movie. She kept her eye on them though out the comedy, noting that they watched, but showed no reaction. Their eyes never seem to reach the small screen in front of them. It was times like this that Cat wished she had a different game to play.

Back in the galley, Barbara, who knows Cats' game very well, nudges her and asks for her "diagnosis" and she quietly gives it. 4F wasn't going somewhere, but running away from somewhere. And she's pretty sure there's a broken heart somewhere in the mix. She can practically see the memories flash through their eyes, and she's seen the fight to keep the tears away. Another glace around the corner to check and 4F is now leaning back in their seat with their eyes closed, trying to get a slip of sleep before stepping out to face a new reality. Barbara just smiles and shakes her head. "How do you do that?" Cat gives a small grin and simply says "experience".

Finally. The plane has landed and she's almost done for the night. Just get these people off her plane and she can go to her hotel and drop. Standing at the entrance she smiles at each of her first class passengers as they stand up to get their neatly stowed carryon luggage and head for the door. She wishes the business passengers a "wonderful stay", 3C a "wonderful holiday" and 1A & 1B a simple "welcome home". As 4F approaches, she thinks of what to say. "Have a nice holiday" just isn't going to cut it. So she stays with the basic.

"Welcome to Paris".


Sitting in the back of a taxi, she lets the streets of Paris consumer her. She hardly notices when the driver pulls up in front of the quaint St. George hotel and opens her door. She whispers a small "merci" and pays her fare.

15 minutes later she's sitting in her hotel room, leaning against the frame of the window that opens onto a small courtyard of the apartment building that is attached to the hotel. It's quiet and peaceful. The smiles and tears that have threatened to come full force the entire flight do just that. She closes her eyes as she just lets go. Laughter and sobs come at once as her actions finally catch up with her and she can't believe what she's done.

Pam Beasley has taken a page out of the Halpert Handbook and has gotten as far away from her wedding as she could.