Inseparable

“Hey, Boy, you listening to me?” Fred asked.

“Tales of the hooker from hell, right? Weird uses for chop sticks, face like a hammered wok, and banging that ass like a gong? Don’t worry, Fred, I’m right here with ya.”

You racist asshole.

“I’m sure I could tell you some stories that would turn your blood cold,” I said.

I couldn't, in fact, at least not when it came to things like prostitutes. A prostitute was something I had never needed and never once considered looking into. I wasn't interested in trying to swap my life story with Fred Stevens. I just wanted him to be sure enough that I was paying attention to him for him to be content. I'd never been a huge fan of flying with an overly chatty pilot, and this yahoo was no exception. I just wanted him off my back so that we could land this plane safely, and so that I was free to think the situation with the little blonde over.

“Once again, pretty boy—”

“Call me ‘pretty boy’ one more time, Fred, and I’m about break some serious FAA regulations by throwing you off this fucking plane.” My fists clenched as my patience finally ran all the way out.

“Fine, fine, whatever you say. The point I was trying to make, before you so rudely interrupted me, was that you don’t seem like you have to pay for it. Which is why I highly doubt that you’ve got a whole lot of hooker stories of your very own. But hey? What the hell do I know? Different strokes for different folks, am I right?”

“I believe you are, Fred,” I said, shaking my head. I was astounded by how stereotypically male this guy was. “I believe I would have to agree with you there.”

“Good. I certainly do value being agreed with, Drew. That’s something you should know about me if we’re going to be flying together. Now, I gotta piss like a Russian racehorse. Why don’t you go ahead and ring the intercom so I can see to it?”

I nodded, doing as he asked without comment. This, at least, was nothing out of the ordinary. It was one of the rules of flying that no pilot was supposed to be in the cockpit on his own. Any time one of us needed to do anything that took us outside of it, we were required to call in one of the flight attendants, just for safety’s sake. They all knew the protocol and were primed to expect that sort of a call. Only a few moments passed before there was a knock at our cockpit door. I glanced up at the screen that let us see who was on the other side of the door and smiled a little. It was the blonde flight attendant, the one I’d been interested in checking out a little bit further. I grabbed Fred’s arm as he stood, finally ready with a question of my own.

"What's that one's name?" I asked nonchalantly, indicating the grainy image of the hot little blonde. "I don't want to seem like too big of an asshole, you know?"

“Well, I can’t help you with that part, but the girl’s name is Jess. Pretty little thing, ain’t she? Little too quiet for my taste, but still a pretty little thing.”

He coughed loudly and cleared his throat, doing these things practically in Jess' face as he opened the door and slid past her. It was, frankly, disgusting, and I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd said something to him about it, or at least made a face. Instead, she only smiled at him, all business, and sat in the seat Fred had been occupying as he loudly shut the door.

“Sorry about that,” I said conversationally, never taking my eyes off of the night sky to look at her as I spoke.

“Sorry about what? I can’t see that you’ve done anything you shouldn’t have.”

“No, I know,” I said. “I just can’t imagine that you girls love being on restroom duty for grown men.”

“Doesn’t bother me. It’s just part

of the job, right? Besides, it’s not like I’m going to go very far while we’re up here.”

“True, very true,” I said. “Not unless you’ve got some serious skills nobody knows about, skills like sprouting wings.”

"No, unfortunately, I've got nothing like that. Can you imagine, though?"

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean what if we could? What if we could just take off and fly all on our own? I literally can’t imagine anything more amazing than that, especially on a night like this.”

“A night like what?”

“A night so beautiful,” she said. “I mean, look how clear the sky is right now! Look at all of those stars. It makes the whole world look more beautiful, you know? It makes everything, even the things that are only ordinary in the day, feel like it’s made of magic. At least for me. I’ve always loved the way it looks to fly at night, especially when we’re over the cities. There’s just something about it.”

“You know what? If I’m being honest? I’ve never thought about it that way.”

I could see her embarrassment at how quickly I dismissed her zealous description of a night flight, and part of me wanted to deck myself in the face. If I was trying to get her into bed, this was probably not the way to do it.

On the other hand, something about the way she spoke was sort of interesting to me. It was more interesting to me than I had expected it to be, just as she'd been when I had spoken to her earlier. It was enough to make me want to further explain myself, which was something I almost never did.

“I guess I don’t think about life that way,” I said. “I don’t think about flying that way.”

"You take a much more matter of fact, business approach to it, don't you?” she asked. “That would be my guess anyway, if I had to make one."