Somehow, they made it. Now, whether that was due to pure acquiescence (Addison) or sheer force of will (Derek's), they'll never know. In any case, the plane isn't set to leave for another _ hours, Addison hasn't come close to a mid-life crisis, and Derek is still convinced that he's made the right decision. By all definitions, it's a win. That, he does know. He can only hope that the rest of the trip will go just as smoothly, though that's surely nothing but wishful thinking. Even for him. What is it that they say? Live in the moment. Ah, yes. For what it's worth, living in the moment may not be as ridiculous of a notion as he thought. Addison may still not be on board with that abstract of an idea but she'll just have to- wait. Where is she? See, what was he telling himself earlier? Wishful thinking. Oh, let the troubles begin. Or- Is that her? Hastily, he pursues a svelte woman clad in black, oversized sunglasses on top of her head in front of a loosely strung-together bun. Hmm. Sunglasses. Midnight. Addison is a lot of things, and mindful is certainly one of them. Now, why would she be wearing those at this hour? She wouldn't be. This isn't her. Hey! He remembered something else he loved- no, loves- about her. Suddenly realizing that this is no longer an era without cellular communication, he whips out his phone to call her and get things back on track. It dials. It dials again. It dials eight more times after that. Nothing. Where on earth- rather, where in this airport could she have gone? Think. The only shop he knows she'd even entertain the idea of stepping foot in is that Fergameo- no, that doesn't sound right- Ferragamo store. In fact, he'd once lost her for a good hour in there. Later, after checking their credit card statement, he realized that he'd lost both her and a few thousand dollars from their checking account, not that he had a mind to bring it up. He knows, he knows...they're affluent enough to afford the finer things in life. Addison always has been, as a matter of fact. For him, it still takes everything in him to not visibly react to whatever obscene figure she spends on a pocketbook or a pair of shoes. He still can't fathom actually paying for "footwear" bolstered by spiky daggers. He certainly won't complain about how amazing said spiky daggers make her legs look, though. Alright, and that one time she surprised him following a day's shift at the hospital in nothing but the red-bottomed spiky dagger contraptions, a set of thrilling lingerie, and two shining horns to complete the ensemble? That was a fun night. Huh. The same outfit in white would be nice. Perhaps he can convince Addie to buy a little halo hairpiece, not that it'll stay in place for long by the time he's through with her. A shrill ring snaps Derek out of his fantasies. Well, speak of the devil. Or angel. Depends on the night. Maybe he isn't quite entirely out of the fantasies.

"Hello?"

"Derek! I-"

"ADDISON!" He stands up, not remembering when exactly he'd sat down in the first place. Oops. That was a little loud. The woman who's been taken aback next to him is a clear enough indicator. "Sorry," he offers, hand over the phone to ensure his message gets to the intended recipient. No response. Oh well. Onward.

"Derek, I'm not hard of hearing."

"Tell that to the ten unanswered dials on your phone."

"Oh, would you just-"

"Let you finish a sentence?"

"Well, that'd be nice too." Derek can quite literally detect the ever-so-subtle change in her inflection that means she's gone full queen-of-passive-aggressiva on him, but if passive is happening now, aggressive is sure to happen on the plane and that isn't a risk he'd really like to take.

"Addison, honey-"

"Oh, you really think calling me that is going to change the fact that you can't stop listening to the sound of your own voice for two seconds to let me explain myself? You know what? I guess there's no merit for an explanation at all, then. Just concoct one up for yourself and repeat it until you get tired of talking. Do it until you're blue in the face! In fact, why even call me if you have no interest in anything I have to say?"

Success. He knew that using pet names to try and deflect a conversation gets on her last nerve (that is, if those pet names aren't accompanied by...other methods), and so his word choice may very well have instigated the aggressive early. Pre-plane. Whoo-hoo! At this rate, she'll have enough time to regain composure on her way back to the terminal and join him in a much more pleasant mood. He knows that she'll crack and tell the story of her enigmatic disappearance (that's probably anything but...sometimes, she can be a bit dramatic) while they're on board. He knows her. Hmm. He'd better throw in one more aggravator to make sure she lets it all out.

"I think I just listened for more than two seconds."

"Derek, I swear to- Oh, excuse me, ma'am! I'm so sorry; may I help you get your bag over to that bench? Hold on, Derek- NO, no, I know you're a woman. See, I'm on the phone with my husband, Derek- funny story, that's actually how I lost my focus to begin with and we came into a little closer contact than either of us would have preferred- Yes, so I've been told. Thank you! Glad to hear it brought someone joy, at least! Now, are you sure you're ok? I feel horrible for- If you insist. Have a nice flight. Ok. Derek, are you still on the line? I got into a bit of a predicament."

"So I heard, but it sounds like things mellowed out."

"Indeed. The woman said that listening to me 'this frazzled' was the highlight of her day but that I need to relax: live a little. You'd like her. Ok, I did too, but-"

"Addie, I hate to cut you off again but- Hello? Addison?" Nothing. Apparently, he'd gauged the timeliness for another joke regarding his tendency to interrupt today- which truly hasn't been a conscious effort, he swears- wrong because he's pretty sure she just flat out hung up on him. He isn't too worried though, as she'll have to face him in the next...five minutes. He'll find a way to make it up to her. For the first time in a long time, he cares, and it feels good.

If Bizzy taught Addison anything, it was the art of preparation. As such, Addison may have left for the airport in attire that could be considered unruly, but she sure as hell wasn't going to stay like that. For what it's worth, Addison had always admired the days where people wore their very best to travel. It's something her family never stopped doing, in fact, and she supposes this is one of the things she still retains from her upbringing. Now, she clearly remembers telling Derek that she was going to go freshen up before doing exactly that, but it seems like he didn't hear her. Before tonight and her husband's complete change of heart, she'd have rendered that to be pretty normal, but she thought things were different. Well, not different; back to the way they once were. Nevertheless, he must've thought she'd disappeared off the face of the earth for a while because she'd simply turned right while he kept walking and she'd been slightly behind him to begin with. Hold on. Did she ever even tell him where she was? He had called on the phone and she'd had every intention to do so, but...oh. Ok, maybe she'll admit to an overreaction about the interrupting. She had to give him credit for worrying enough about her wellbeing to pick up the phone and call. Or...did she? Isn't that typical for a husband and wife to do, or for any two people who care about one another? That's just it; it hadn't been typical. Him expressing concern had become atypical. Credit, nevertheless, should be granted. She's happy to embrace his sudden want to change and acknowledging it couldn't hurt, right? Right. Now that she's settled that matter, it's time to book it over to the terminal to avoid being late. They'll be the first to board, naturally, and causing any unnecessary interferences is not her intention. She'll just pick up the phone, call Derek, and… No. This can't be happening. When Addison turns to her side to grab the phone lying in the outside pocket of her over-the-shoulder bag, she makes a number of realizations in rapid succession, each of which are more alarming than the one before it. One: she sees no shoulder strap on her person. Two: Accordingly, no bag is dangling just beyond her dip. Three: if no bag is dangling just beyond her hip, then no items inside the bag are there either. No phone, no identification...no ticket. No, no, no. To put the cherry atop of this lovely situation, she realizes that she never actually checked to see which terminal the flight was meant to take off from. It was on the ticket, after all. Well this is just perfect.