One
3rd Person P.O.V.
Claire sighed as she made her way into the customs line. She had a headache every time she looked at it. So much people... she was starting to get a headache. She began to wobble... the pain in her ankle was beginning to take over again...
"Hey. Try not to break your face, Claire. It's too beautiful for that." A familiar voice said, as a strong hand pressed the back of well, her back. She put her head in her hands.
"Owen." She groaned. Why you? She thought to herself. Why now? "Why are you here?" She asked.
"No 'How have you been the past six months since we broke up?' Really, Claire, I thought you were better than that."
"Tell me again why we broke up?"
"Because you wanted to drive my van. So I left you."
"You left me? How could you possibly have left me if it was your van? Jesus, Owen. Get a grip."
"Where are you heading?" Owen asked, changing the subject. He didn't like getting caught out.
"Melbourne."
"You're going to kill me, but, ummm, I kind of got a job interview and it just happened to be at Fed. Square. So um, yeah, guess we'll be going together."
Claire groaned. It was going to be a long 48 hours.