Philly The Key “Lock Gwen and Demonica To A Stone” State
Haaaaaaaaaarsh. I hate flying. With a passion. It makes me sick. I don’t fear it, per say. I just do not like flying ten bazillion feet in the air with only a thin layer of metal separating me from living or watching my head explode. Lovely thought, no? My fingers coiled around the arms of the first class seating. I’m surprised the guy in the row in front of me wasn’t bitching about me wedging my feet against the back of his seat. Maybe the bastard was asleep. God, I hate flying.
My nails pressed hard into the padded arms, my knuckles growing white from the sheer pressure of my tenseness. Why did Calgary have to be so fucking far from Philadelphia? I mean, c’mon now. Jesus. I felt the plane hit some turbulence and then felt my stomach churn in response. I cringed and wrinkled in my nose, licking my lips nervously.
Some old man early on the flight, after I had had about seven shots of Jack Daniel’s, asked me if I’ve ever heard of the “Mile High Club”. Had I not been around boisterous and sex-fiendish American men for ages, I would not have known what the bastard was talking about. I was so tempted to just crack him across the face. Being that I was on the plane in the first place to go to Philly for a trial that was trying convict Demonica and I of assault, I decided against it. Instead, I took my eighth shot of whisky, dumped it on his head and requested another seat.
I had been moved into a row with Demmy and Necron. The stewardess had convinced someone to switch seats with me. A nun, oddly enough. So I sat there, freaking out in my seat, in plain view of Necron. I didn’t care. He was probably looking at me strangely as all the blood drained from my face. Eventually, I managed to calm myself down… but only slightly.
Where the fuck was Demonica? Fucking hell. She’d gone off somewhere. And where the hell is my whisky?! Idly, I thought back to an old-school Simpsons episode where they discovered Marge is afraid of flying. The only part I remember from that episode was where, before the plane even takes off, she’s running up and down the aisle, screaming lemme off. Okay, I was a little further along than a yellow cartoon. Go me.
I sucked in a light breath, glancing out the window. I shrivelled faintly as I saw puffy clouds going through my window. When I was little, my brother Quentin, convinced me that going through clouds was like swimming in marshmallow. That ass hole lied to me. The plane shook faintly, the briefcases and such in the overhead storage compartments rattling. I swallowed deeply, pushing down the blind over the window and pushing myself back into the padding of the seat. I closed my eyes tightly and took a shaky sip of water, tilting my head upwards. Where was the morphine when you really needed it? Necron stared at me for a long moment before speaking quietly.
"You all right?" There was almost a look of concern on his face. I smiled weakly, glancing over at him and taking another sip from the water.
“Just peachy, chéri. Just peachy.” I squeaked, clearing my throat. “Next time the stewardess comes by, dear, ask her if she’s got any absinthe or something?” Good ol’ absinthe. Nearly ninety percent alcohol that made you delude that you see green fairies that light fires. Fun hallucinations take my mind off of the high altitude. “Where’s Demonica? Not that I’m not enjoying making you worry about little ol’ moi, but I have to kill Demonica for making me late so that I wouldn’t be able to drive to Philly.” He shrugged in response.
"She said she'd be right back about twenty minutes ago." It was at that moment that the woman in question returned. A glass of cognac was in one hand while a beer rested in her other hand. Her shoulders of her jacket had a bunch of tiny wings lining them as if they were military decorations. She sat down. Necron reached out for one of the glasses only to get his hand smacked. "That's mine. Get your own baby." She then looked at me with her strange green eyes. "Hey you're here....and you don't look too good." I tugged at my baggy, Harley Davidson t-shirt, that was faded and ragged and nearly four years old. I always loved old clothes. So comfy. It matched my ripped-up black jeans. Did I mention that I have flying. I looked over to Demonica with a glare of annoyance.
“And the Understatement of the Year Award goes to…” I uttered, sarcastically. I took a few breaths and calmed myself down again. My hand softly rubbed my temple and forward, soothing the nauseating feeling in my stomach. “What were you doing? I got here all ready to start bitching at you for making me not able to drive and you weren’t even here,” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. The queasiness had faded for the most part, thankfully and I was able to relax. I grasped the cognac and took a deep swallow before giving it back. Damn airlines and their anti-smoking laws.
"Aw poor disappointed little thing." Her tone had a sickness to it that matched her smirk. "Sorry I wasn't here for that. I was up hanging out with the pilots and having drinks. The co-pilot can't hold his liquor. He bumped the stick a couple of times." She laughed at the comment before continuing a little further while Necron frowns at her words for some reason. "It was relaxing though, I got to smoke while I was up there." I groaned and shrivelled into my seat, drawing the blue, starchy blanket up around my shoulders.
“Disparaissent la baise un chien, femme…” I replied. In French, I’d pretty much told her to do something not nice to an unsuspecting dog. I pitied the dog in that moment, but only briefly. I turned my shoulder to her, resting my head against the side of the plane’s interior. I curled up more, my fingers coiling around my stomach. I felt her fingers trail my shoulder before they began toying with my hair.
"Don't worry Gwenny, it won't be much longer. Plus you have me and Necron to keep you company." I could feel her smirk even when not looking at her. I snorted in the most unladylike of fashions, shrinking down into my seat again, closing my eyes.
“Vous êtes une telle chienne parfois. Yeah. Fine.” I mumbled quietly, bowing my head down a bit to the point where the sickness faded completely, just leaving an awful taste in my mouth like the kind you get when you first wake up in the morning. The cognac probably hadn’t helped matters much. She sighed in a forced manner that was obviously for attention.
"Cron, get us a couple drinks, would you?" Though phrased like a question it was more of an order. He replied with a flat tone.
"What do you want?" Demonica laughed.
"Surprise us, sexy." With that he got up. Suddenly I felt a pair of teeth on my shoulder. I winced and let out a little gasp, cursing loudly in French. I was trying to not swear in English for there was a kid to the side of my row. I wiggled about slightly, managing to shrug Demonica’s teeth from my shoulder. That wave of nausea crept up my spine again as I moved.
“C’mon, Demmy… stop it… please…” I whined, curling up into a ball, hugging my belly. It occurred to me then that I was better off with Demonica off somewhere and Necron worrying about me, then Necron off somewhere and Demonica sitting here with me. Her voice went playful.
"I can't help it. You're just so cute all curled up like that." Then, once again, she began toying with my hair. I turned my head faintly to stick my tongue out at her, the three ball bearings clicking against my lip rings faintly. I was used to the feeling but it was odd every time. "Well, I guess girl talk is out of the question now." That's the point where Necron returned. "Yep it's out of the question." I looked over at Demonica curiously. Girl talk? My Demonica? Nooo, couldn’t be. Was she pregnant or something? Christ, that’s all I needed to hear.
Necron sat down and immediately began speaking. "I've got a vodka and coke for you Demonica and for Gwen I have 7-Up along with another blanket and pillow." After a brief pause he spoke to me. "You feeling any better?” I shrugged my shoulders faintly, taking the blanket, pillow and glass of carbonated sugar-water from him, nodding my head in thanks.
“Peachy, love. Just like before, thank you.” I took a sip from the soda, feeling I bubble all the way down. It felt good. Necron was such a sweetheart. Demonica definitely had a good catch on her hands. I, on the other hand, did not. I was either one-night-standing or fucking some guy already in a relationship. Go me. I am so home-wrecker material. I glanced at Necron for a moment, smiling faintly.
“Mind if ya go to the bathroom for a few minutes, love? I have to murder your girlie.” I asked inquisitively. I was intrigued by Demonica’s mention of girl talk. A look of surprise crept across Demonica's face. She knew what it was about though.
"I was being sarcastic Gwen. We'll talk when we get ready for court." Necron just shook his head at it all. The vertical braids shook as he did. "So am I leaving or not then?" Still a smile was on his face so he was enjoying himself.
“Bah. Fuck off.” I muttered, shrinking into my seat again, resting my forehead against the side of the cabin.
"Cronny you should have gotten some Midol for her too." Yeah she went there. She's been in a strangely feisty mood the whole trip. I cast a glare that spoke daggers at Demonica before turning away again. "We'll be landing soon" She took a sip from her drink while Necron just watched the two of us. Who knows what he was thinking? I pulled the blanket up around me more, as well as the second one. So warm…
“Good. I think I’m gonna ralph.” I mumbled beneath my breath. Demonica laughed in a way that showed she might care that I was sick as fuck before standing and gulping down the rest of her drink. "I'll be back again. I'm gonna go smoke with the pilots again." She gave Necron a little kiss and walked off leaving me alone with him again. I knew she cared. She just had a really fucking funny way of showing it. Or a really annoying way. Either or. I glanced at Necron slowly, waiting for him to sit down before I smiled faintly.
“Thanks again, Necron…” I mumbled quietly. “And I swear to god, if she’s up there, telling the captain to move the plane around, I’ll kill her.” I growled, frowning.
"Demonica thinks you two will be fine unless the jury is too afraid of you two being on the streets. She doesn't appear to be sweating any of this." His voice is filled with concern. "Is she telling it how it is? Do you think you two are gonna come out of this okay?” He sounded worried from what I could gather. Aww, how cute. God, I’m so lonely. I shrugged my shoulders faintly, turning in my seat to face him so my back was pressed against the wall of the cabin.
“Francine’s case won’t hold up in court once they examine the samples from all of us and video evidence…” I said, wincing faintly as the plane rocked a little bit. Damn it, Demonica. I gazed at him softly, as if his posture would give something away. I doubted it. Martial artists always hid themselves well. “Worried about her?” He nodded lightly.
"Yeah I am. I'm worried about you too." Taking a sip of a beer the stewardess brought by. He continues. "Neither of you seem to have a lot of support, especially with Darkstar flaking out or whatever. I just don't want to see you gals locked up over bullshit.” I smiled faintly.
“Awww, you deserve a hug… and trust me, if I wasn’t afraid of throwing-up, I would so cuddle up to you right now.” I laughed faintly, though it was cut short by a small bubble within my belly. I took a sip of the 7-Up. I put the glass on the table and crawled over to him, still wrapped up in all the blankets. I plopped myself beside him and curled up beneath his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “No wonder Demmy likes ya so much.” I laughed faintly. No, I wasn’t hitting on him. I was just delusional and needed human contact. Too bad Seraph wasn’t here. Damn him and his staying in Calgary. He chuckled and rubbed my shoulder.
"If she could stop playing with the pilots we might get you on the ground sometime soon.” I couldn’t help but chuckle faintly at his remark. He was so right.
“You’re too right. She’s just doing it to annoy me now.” I said flatly, settling in against him, hugging myself within the blankets. I closed my eyes as I sat there. ‘Dead’ a week and already cuddled up with me and fucking Demonica. He was coming along nicely. Finally, Demonica returned and stopped in the middle of the aisle looking at us.
"How cute." There wasn't any kind of readable tone to her voice. She sat down next to him. "The captain says we're landing in a couple minutes. “So, Doctor Cron how is our patient?" I shifted uncomfortably. Cuddling with a friend’s boy-toy was a big no-no. I sat up slowly and rubbed my forehead, hunching forward faintly. I shifted more into my own seat, hugging the blankets around myself. I finished drinking my soda out of the cup and crushed it, stuffing into the pocket in the back of the seat in front of me. I buckled up and curled my fingers around the arms of the chair again. My stomach clenched. I hated taking off. I hated flying. I hated landing.
“I’m fine… for now…” I managed to say quietly, not wanting to talk to loudly for some reason.
"You feeling well enough to sit up, or just preparing to land Gwenny?" The seating arrangements changed Necron was in the middle at this point. So she played with him instead of messing with me. Still she did seem concerned in her own way. I laughed a bit.
“I’d rather not land laying down and have myself hurl all over my face, thanks.” I said, rather bluntly. The bit of laughter and the soda really had helped my stomach, but I definitely would have shaky legs when getting off the plane and would no doubt cling to one or both of them. What great friends I had.
