Sooo... Umm... Yeah. Please only thow things with round edges. I know asking you to only throw soft items is a little beyond the pale.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. That includes concepts and plot twists; half are them are from The Fountainhead. So, no, when that comes up... It's not your imagination.
Non-linear means just that. No chronological clues unless I really can't help it. Don't blink, you will miss it. Yes, I've shamelessly filched the fanfic 100 prompts. No, the numbers of the prompts are not related to the order of events in the story.
66 Rain
He doesn't board a plane. He waits in the terminal until, finally, flight 636 from London disembarks. From her vantage point in the café, Brenda has a good view of him.
Brenda also has a good view of the person he's there to meet.
The truth is that Brenda notices the girl before Dutton greets her.
She is young and very, very beautiful, with a lithe body, long dark hair and a wide, full mouth. There is something familiar about her face, but Brenda can't place it. Brenda recalls Fritz's old comments about the "real stepford wives" and draws a hasty comparison to the tall brunette. Then Brenda corrects it. There is nothing vacant about this girl. Things don't happen in her life without permission. She is not a "wife of," she can't be tied to anyone.
She walks slower than the rest of the disembarking crowd. She wears severe clothing, a starched white shirt with a dramatic collar, a tight black pencil skirt, tall spiky heels. Everything accentuates the stick-like lines of her long body. She walks with, there's no other word for it, gravitas. She is self-possessed, imposing even. When she stops and looks about her it is a thoughtful action, not a lost one.
Dutton, too, is very still as he watches her. When they see each other, Brenda notes, there is a moment of hesitation. Then, a flurry of motion. The girl practically flies into his outstretches arms; her whole body is involved in the motion. She parts those wide lips in a wide smile. Her eyebrows display impressive dexterity. Even her nose wiggles a bit.
Dutton and the girl embrace for a long moment, a rib-crushing hug. When they pull away from one another, it is only far enough to talk face-to-face rather than ear-to-ear, and neither takes their arms off the other. There is a soft look between them, something that doesn't seem properly carnal to Brenda, who has already decided to cast the brunette in the role of Dutton's latest plaything.
It's the look of two people who have known each other a long time comparing the real person to their mental image.
The girl's lush red lips move a great deal when she speaks. Whatever she says, this lip-reader's wet dream, it must be funny, because they both laugh again. Dutton steps away from her, leaving just one arm around her waist. She leaves an arm around him, as well. He gestures at her bags and says something that makes the girl howl with laughter; it's an inside-joke laugh and the girl's whole body goes into it. Her knees bend, her mouth stretches, her shoulders shake, her head snaps as far back as Brenda has ever seen a living person's do.
A few more words, then Dutton kisses her.
It's not the kiss Brenda expects to see. The brunette inclines her face towards him and he plants his lips on her forehead, just next to her temple. It's a gentle a deeply affectionate gesture.
After the kiss, Dutton takes hold of her carry-on, and the girl takes her long coat and her purse and they set off.
They still have one another about the waist. The girl rests her head on Dutton's shoulder as they walk. There is more swagger to Dutton's step than usual.
Brenda leaves forty dollars on the table and slips into the terminal. She follows them past baggage claim (they don't stop), through immigration (they get through fast enough) and almost to the curb.
They stop, the girl hunts in her purse. Brenda is close enough now to hear them.
"-hard to get by in London without one."
She pulls out an umbrella.
For the first time, Brenda looks out a window. There will be no more following them today. In a little summer dress with a tiny clutch purse, Brenda is not equipped to walk through that kind of weather.
Click a button, adopt a button, make a button happy!
I should make a note of this: flames will be welcomed with open arms. You need to keep warm somehow in the frozen wastes.