An Habitual Offender, Epilogue
The hangar doors were open and the late evening sky threw its’ deep reds, hot and humid, into the interior of Building Seven. A Gulf Coast summer turns the outside world into a near-perfect replica of a dog’s mouth. Barney apparently had decided it was time to run all of the very loudest machines at once, raising the noise level to something quite inconvenient. Not the kind of atmosphere he’d hoped for.
Fiona was standing in front of the airlock with her back towards him. She was wearing some beat-down coveralls with the sleeves and leg cuffs turned up to make them functional. She had a cloth in her gloved hand and she was cleaning something from around the door frame. He walked up behind her and heard through the din that she was singing some song he did not recognize, presumably trying to drown out some of the noise.
He startled her, and her smile was at first a bit subdued, perhaps only seven hundred kilowatts. Actually, she was blushing a bit. She looked at him over the top of her glasses. “Hi, handsome.”
Kevin leaned his head towards the jet. “So, how’s things?”
“All done. We’re just giving her a bit of spit and polish now.” She turned back towards the hatch and resumed her wiping. She looked as though she was considering something. She glanced over her shoulder at him, then looked away again. “I was just thinking…”
He suddenly felt a bit nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. “…Yes?”
She dropped the rag into a bucket and pulled off her gloves. She wiped off her hands and then stepped towards him. She took his hands and pulled them around her waist. As he began moving them farther around her she released his hands and gripped his forearms. “With a bit of tweaking, she’d make a lovely caravan.”
Okay, that was unexpected! He had to pause for a moment before he could speak. Would a plane that smart even deign to consider such an idea? “Well, I suppose she would… have to think about it a bit.”
She slid her hands up his forearms, then inside the sleeves of his shirt, wrapping them around his upper arms. A thrill went up his spine. “And Barney said that you still had the booster rockets?”
She turned her face up to his, and leaned in closer. “With a bit more tweaking, I’ll bet you we could reach the moon.”
And Kevin just had to laugh, because it sounded like such a damn fine idea.
An Habitual Offender by
Kevin L. Corridon is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.