Summary:
Bernie and Serena are on their way to Paris for a bit. What happens when one of them is a bit antsy on the flight with no Shiraz for comfort?
They sat right beside one another on the plane. Their elbows shared the thin arm rest between them, their hands clasped together as Serena watched the earth from high above. The warmth of Bernie's touch, knowing that she was right there next to her, gave Serena a sense of safety she'd long since forgotten. She'd never particularly enjoyed flying, and while she hadn't told Bernie of her anxiety, it didn't exactly take a detective to see that being airborne was not on Serena's list of favorites.
As they passed through clouds and over the ocean, Bernie smiled in amusement at Serena's marveling. It was one of the things she loved most about the woman: her ability to find beauty in almost anything, even when she was frightened. Although Serena had made this trip before, this was the first time she and Bernie had flown together— let alone taken a trip anywhere. They'd been planning this for months now, though it hadn't felt real until they'd reached the gate.
When a flight attendant strolled down the aisle and stopped to ask for their drink orders, Serena looked up with a nervous smile, she asked, "I don't suppose you'd have any Shiraz onboard?"
"I'm sorry, Miss," the young man replied.
"I think water will have to do," Bernie said. Glancing out the window once again, Serena suddenly felt her heart quicken in pace. It wasn't until she felt Bernie squeeze her hand gently that she turned to face her partner. "We haven't much farther to go," Bernie informed. "We'll be back on the ground in no time."
"Yes. Yes, you're right." Serena shook her head and let out a slight laugh. "I don't know what it is, but I never can seem to shake these jitters. You'd think I'd never flown before in my life."
"Some of the men I worked with hated the choppers. It was a sodding getting from one base to another."
"I suspect they had better reason to be afraid." An awkward silence fell between them before the flight attendant returned with two plastic cups of water. Serena relished in the cold as it trickled down her throat, as if awakening her entire system. "The last time I went to Paris was right after my mother died," she revealed quietly.
Bernie lowered her cup and held it in her lap. "Did you two go often?" she asked casually.
With a slight shrug, Serena replied, "A few times"
"I see." One leg crossed over the other. Bernie fidgeted with the square napkin that had come with her drink.
"I still feel a bit of guilt going without her," Serena murmured.
When Serena simply sighed, Bernie decided to offer an anecdote of her own. "My father was always a bit partial to Athens. He never did explain why he found it so alluring." As she swirled the water in the cup, quietly wishing it were something stronger, she added, "The guilt doesn't last forever, you know."
Just as Serena peered over at Bernie, the speakers crackled and a friendly voice popped on. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We're about ready to make our initial descent, so if you would all please remain in your seats with your seat-belts on. Our flight attendants will be 'round to collect your disposables. On behalf of everyone here, thank you for flying with us today."
After they'd tossed out their empty glasses, Bernie and Serena rested back against their seats. Serena couldn't help but watch as they began to weave beneath the clouds; cars and buildings slowly started to return to average size, and the reflection of the sun ricocheted off of windows.
Before the wheels hit the ground, Serena reached for Bernie's hand once again and looked over at the woman. When Bernie kissed the back of Serena's hand, Serena felt herself smiling ever-so-slightly. So far, their little getaway wasn't so bad.