fandomhigh | Flight Club: Flight Shed, Monday After Classes

"Hey, everybody," Tahiri said, raising a hand in greeting; the time disparity hadn't thrown her off too badly, all things considered, and she looked in good spirits. "I hope it wasn't too quiet around here over the weekend. If it was, well, maybe the first sim option you've got today will make up for it. You've got an experimental Bell X-1 for your atmospheric craft today, which according to the research I've done is the first Earth manned aircraft to successfully break the speed of sound."

Not all that long ago, either, which still amused her. Really, Earth tech? Really?

"As for your spaceflight option . . ." Her expression turned sheepish, and she rubbed at the back of her neck. "I was trying to set up a scenario in Ben's uncle's ship --" this with some effort not to look amused until she noticed Leia didn't seem to be around -- "but for some reason it keeps giving me this flying Winnebago instead. Um . . . try not to overshoot the planet and crash-land, okay? I can definitely speak from experience when I say crash-landing is no fun. Well, maybe sometimes it is, but I'm not supposed to endorse it."

She read over the overview of both crafts' controls from her datapad (not without a significant amount of comical face-making over the flying Winnebago's schematics) and as an afterthought, added, "Oh, by the way -- if any of you are interested in seeing what an actual X-Wing snubfighter looks like, come talk to me; I've got one in the junkyard."

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"I'm not in any hurry to go back to New York." Warren's smile had gone a bit twitchy, right along with the rest of him. "The first time I ever actually flew, it was on my way here. I don't know if I can bring myself to give that up again, you know?"

... Well, maybe?

"Here, it's okay to exist. That's more than a bit of a relief, yeah."

Tahiri tentatively extended a light wave of reassurance in the Force. "And here, I'm pretty sure we're glad to have you." She wondered, briefly, if the shapers had ever tried to give anyone wings -- and stomped down on the thought, reminding herself that wasn't right. "What was it like, the first time?"

"It was like..." Warren's lips quirked into a hint of a wry smile. "It was like flying."

Obviously.

"It was freedom. Like anything could happen, right then and there, and it wouldn't matter anymore, because I was doing what I was meant to do. Have you ever felt that?"

Tahiri thought of opening her eyes and sitting up, drenched in sweat, on a cot in the safe room surrounded by friends and feeling more whole than she had in years; she turned a brighter and more heartfelt smile on him.

"Yes," she said after a moment, her voice certain. "I think I know exactly what you mean. I think they're astral, by the way. The only kind of flying I know how to do is, well." She glanced back toward the sim. "I imagine it's hardly the same."

"Not even remotely the same," Warren admitted, actually laughing a bit as he took the Winnebago into consideration again. "Unless the next time you ready a sim, you can get a convertible variation on that camper. And even then, you're still not quite coming close."

It was like being in free-fall. And then catching yourself.

"I've never actually flown a Winnebago before," Tahiri said hurriedly, then scrunched up her face in self-conscious amusement. "I suppose I could try and come up with that, although I'm still not sure how exactly I ended up with that, um, craft in the first place. The closest I've ever come to flying like that is . . . well, pretty much dropping down really deep holes. Even being able to control the fall isn't anything like being able to fly."

Warren shook his head a little. It was his way of agreeing with her before he grinned a lopsided grin and spread his wings just slightly.

"I could show you what it's like, being able to fly."

Because he was incorrigible.

He was talking to a girl who'd once infiltrated a planet by crash-landing on it in a glorified escape pod that had half-burned up on re-entry, and barely had time to get her breath back before asking if they could do it again. There was nothing about this that sounded remotely like a bad idea.

"Could you?" Tahiri's entire face lit up. "I'd love that."

That lopsided grin of his just happened to grow a few sizes.

"I could," he agreed, thrilled that there wasn't any flailing of arms or general freaking out going on at the suggestion. "And I'm not likely to drop you or anything, but we could fly low just to be on the safe side. All you'd have to do is tell me what direction to fly, and I can be your wings."

Tahiri's grin wasn't getting any smaller either; Corran's assessment of her hadn't been wrong. "Astral," she declared. "Out over the preserve, maybe? For starters?"

She must have realized what she sounded like -- which, for the record, wasn't much different from her younger inquisitive self -- and trailed off, apologetic. "I'm sorry, if I'm asking too many questions. You probably have to field a lot of them."

"Questions are fine," Warren assured her with a shrug. "I'll have you know, the view of the preserve from above is... What word is it? Astral?"

Yeah. The view of the preserve from above was totally astral.

"So you say, but --" Slightly awkward moment over, Tahiri grinned again. "I'd like to see from myself, and not from the inside of a cockpit."

"Well, then I'm going to have to show you, aren't I? When's good for you? I'm good to go any time the weather isn't being temperamental."

Having his mode of transportation built-in was pretty convenient, that way.

"I've got one class tomorrow, but I'm free any time the rest of the week except Sunday evening," Tahiri told him in a sadly naive assumption that this year's prom aftermath wouldn't be the same as last year's. "I bet it's still a bit cool in the evenings, though."

"A little," Warren agreed. "And I have classes Wednesdays and Thursdays, but I can't see how it would be a problem to pick you up after I get out of Deadpool's... lesson, Thursday."

... Deadpool kind of made Warren wear his 'mildly traumatized' face. It was a crazy-person-who-knew-who-he-was thing.

At least when it came to keeping the 'mildly traumatized' face within reach for frequent wearing, Warren wasn't alone, although he definitely had more of a reason to wear it. Tahiri certainly sympathized, at least.

"On the roof, then?" she asked. "Or should I just hang out my room window and --"

Warren, meet Tahiri's occasionally shaky sense of humor.

"The roof is fine," Warren laughed. See, Tahiri's shaky sense of humor was still pretty good at chasing away the traumafaces. "I try not to make a habit out of snatching girls from their windowsills."

What would the tabloids say?

Or on this island . . .

"The squirrels would make more out of that than it really was," Tahiri agreed. "That's the sort of reputation someone can live without."

Ah, literate squirrels.

"So, the roof, then? Sometime Thursday after class?"

Weird kriffing squirrels.

Tahiri nodded and tossed off a playful salute. "That sounds dangerously like a plan."

Flight Club: Flight Shed, Monday After Classes

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