Thorne had long ago decided that Newark Liberty International Airport was his least favorite of them all. And that included La Guardia airport with its ever-smelling waiting rooms. Or Philadelphia airport where the security staff padded him up and down a tad too long for it to be just a routine check-up. Or O'Hare with its perpetual delays due to weather.

But with Newark airport he never managed to arrive on time. Or arrive at the correct gate. Or not have to wait an eternity for his luggage. Somehow, his otherwise infallible luck never extended to Newark.

Today, he had already waited fifteen minutes for his luggage. Unlike other passengers, Thorne didn't see the point in sighing or ranting though. He merely raised his eyebrows at the spectacle some people made of themselves as they went off at workers - as if that would make the luggage appear faster.

But even Thorne could barely contain his own annoyance by the time the first suitcase rolled down the baggage belt - and it was his!

Taking back everything he thought about his rotten luck at Newark airport, he quickly grabbed his suitcase and left.


Cress didn't know what it was about Newark airport but something always went wrong here. On her last flight, some brat had stuck Bunchems in Cress's hair until it was so thoroughly tangled around those little toys that the stewardess hadn't been able to do anything but cut it. Granted, Cress liked her short bob now (after some held-back tears on the plane and many flowing freely afterwards) but it certainly hadn't been her preferred way to get a drastic haircut.

Considering that, gum on the sole of her shoe wasn't that bad.

Still disgusting, though.

Cress grimaced as she rubbed on the sole with some with wet tissue, balancing on one foot and steadying herself on the sink. Cress hated the feel of her shoe sticking to the floor with every other step and wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

When she had rubbed away most of it and placed a few pieces of tissue on the last remains, she finally left the bathroom.

When she arrived at the baggage belt, only one suitcase made its very lonely round. She quickly picked her suitcase up and left the airport.


So much for his luck at Newark airport. Thorne wasn't used to being unlucky and he couldn't say he cared for it one bit.

He looked at what he had assumed was his suitcase but Thorne ventured a guess that it wasn't his at all. At least he couldn't remember packing, never mind owning, the pair of fuzzy blue slippers with silver stars in (he picked them up to check) size 4 that greeted him on top of the open suitcase.

Thorne rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. His trip wasn't off to a good start.

He took a deep breath and considered his options. He would surely find a luggage tag or could contact the airport. The thought of going back to the airport just to exchange suitcases wasn't appealing though. He hoped he could meet the woman (because he doubted those slippers belonged to anyone but a very small woman) the suitcase belonged to closer to his hotel.

The thought of the small woman gave him pause. He knew exactly which small woman had the same suitcase as him. It seemed too much of a coincidence to be Cress, but then again all their random meetups defied chance at this point.


The luggage tag read C. Thorne and listed a number. Cress was relieved that the suitcase belonged to her airport acquaintance. At least, she doubted there was someone else with the name Thorne who owned the same suitcase as her.

She was still a bit nervous about calling even though she knew he must have picked up the wrong suitcase first. Technically it wasn't her fault.

She wondered if he knew that he had picked up her suitcase and if he would call as soon as he noticed the mistake. Cress stared at the open suitcase. She had already extended the portable closet organizer half-way up when she noticed that the displayed items didn't match the things she packed. The neatly folded shirts and trousers clearly belonged to a man.

A well-dressed man. Which she knew Thorne to be.

Cress looked at her phone for any missed calls but nothing so far. She eyed the shelves. Back to her phone.

Cress knew she shouldn't be snooping. She really shouldn't.


Thorne might as well do some snooping while he waited for Cress to call. But just to make sure, there was no harm in checking for hints to make sure it was indeed her suitcase. Because the luggage tag said C.M. Darnel, which didn't necessarily mean it belonged to Cress. Not for the first time, Thorne thought he would like to have a longer meeting with Cress for once, just to talk and get to know each other.

Thorne memorized the position and way of folding before he opened a white blouse. Then a navy skirt. A pair of high heels in a bag. A coat, a spare pair of tights and a small toiletry case with a few essentials - it was a smartly-packed suitcase but the content didn't tell him it actually belonged to Cress. He doubted his own suitcase would give away all that much either, though he assumed Cress would know that C. Thorne's suitcase was his and would call him soon. He didn't peg Cress as someone who would rummage through a stranger's suitcase like he did.


Cress blushed as she held up a pair of boxers. They were dark blue, silky, and had the funniest card game pattern on them - aces, spades, hearts and diamonds. Among the tasteful and elegant men's clothes, these silly boxers certainly stood out. Maybe they were his lucky boxers? Guys had those, right?

Cress quickly put them back. She hoped the next time she saw Thorne, she wouldn't imagine him in these boxers.

An image of Thorne in nothing but those boxers rose in Cress's mind. He looked tan and toned in his suits and Cress's imagination didn't need much help envisioning him without his usual business attire. Well, maybe he could leave the tie on too. Just so she could grab it and pull him towards her for a kiss and ...

Cress shook her head, her cheeks red from shame. She was sure Thorne wouldn't look through her stuff and have dirty thoughts about her. Thorne was a gentleman after all.


Thorne whistled as he inspected a very lacy, very red bra and panties combo.

Now that's what he called nice underwear. Not what he would expect for a business trip but he certainly appreciated the image it gave him. One more reason to look forward to meeting Cress in the future since he now knew what she wore underneath. It certainly made for a nice fantasy. Depending on if the suitcase actually belonged to her, that is. He certainly hoped so.

He folded the underwear and placed it back where it was and made sure that it looked like he never even touched it. It wouldn't do to look like a pervert.

Especially since he didn't have anything in his suitcase he would be self-conscious about if Cress found it.


Cress's eyes bulged as she pulled out the box of condoms from one of the side pockets. That was obviously a responsible thing to have as an adult. And Thorne seemed to be the responsible type. And quite ... active if the few remaining condoms were any indication.

She could hardly be surprised.

Cress's mind wandered to the women he was with. Since he traveled a lot, Cress assumed it was women rather than just one special girl. What kind of woman was a guy like Thorne into? She remembered the beautiful stewardesses she had seen him with. It wasn't hard to imagine he would spend his nights with one of them.

Cress carefully placed the packages back where they belonged. There was nothing else to do but send a message to the number on the luggage tag. And hope she could look Thorne in the eyes when they exchanged their suitcases.


Thorne held the long, pink object delicately between his fingers, his eyebrows cocking as he took on his newest find.

Traveling as much as Cress and he did was stressful and came with many lonely nights. It was natural that a woman would bring a toy with her to ... relax, Thorne thought. He certainly appreciated a woman being in control of her own sexuality and enjoying herself.

If he weren't mindful of not letting Cress know that he had been rummaging through her stuff, he would have been tempted to offer himself as a replacement for the toy.

Then he saw the name on it.

The name of a popular hair product brand.

Ooooh.

Thorne chuckled as he realized he had not been holding a sex toy in his hands but, rather, a curling iron.

As he placed it back into the side pocket where he had taken it from, his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but he hoped it was his suitcase twin. In the best case scenario, Cress.

He picked up the phone with flourish."Hello?"


A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. I didn't expect so many for the last drabble and I can't tell you how motivating it was. This one was fun to write and I hope you had fun reading it too. Many thanks to lovelunarchron who made it through this chapter even though she had to blush at certain parts. :P