Chapter Text
“We have a what now?”
“After everything you’ve seen here, are you really surprised?”
“I mean…no, I guess not I just - a plane?”
“I mean, if you want to be specific, we have several planes,” Dr. Way explains. “But yes, I have a jet.”
“And we’re going where?”
“Denver. ‘International Association of the Physical Sciences’ Conference. And it’s an invitation, not a requirement. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“Is anyone else going, or?”
“The heads of Theoretical & Applied Physics and Biology are all coming too.”
You have to sit for a moment to process this information.
“And they want you to speak.”
“Keynote speaker, to be exact. ‘Strategies for Research Focused Corporate Development.’”
It’s impossible not to laugh at them, just a little.
“It wasn’t my idea for a topic,” they explain with a smile. “but it’s what they wanted me to talk about, so why not oblige.”
“I think I need to think it over,” you say.
“Of course. I don’t need to know until Friday. That’s when we’re booking room blocks. And honestly you could still change your mind at the last minute, if you wanted a roommate.”
“Right.” You nod. “…I need more details. What would this…look like for me?”
“Oh, very simple. The company pays for everything, food, hotel room. Really you’d be doing the same thing you do here - following me around most of the time. Like I said, you don’t have to come. I can do this without an assistant just fine, if I need to. I’m mostly inviting you because I thought you would want to come, and because I’d enjoy the company.”
“I don’t think I’m seeing a downside to this,” you say.
Dr. Way smiles broadly at you. “Do you still want some time to think about it?”
“…No. I’m in.”
“You sure?”
“I’m so sure.”
It’s 6:30 in the morning and you’re pulling into your usual parking space at a markedly unusual time. There aren’t many things that would drag you out of bed at this hour, but Dr. Way’s instructions, detailed in some aspects and mischievously vague in others, to turn up at 6:30 were pretty much the best reason imaginable. It’s light out, but barely, the sun just peaking over the trees and casting everything in a warm yellow glow. You’re relieved to find several cars in the parking lot with you, you assume the directors of the physics and biology departments that Dr. Way had mentioned were coming with you. You recognize most of the people milling around, mostly nicely dressed but comfortable, and the handful of physicists who appear to have turned up in actual pajamas, a choice you have to respect. One of the cars is pink, bright pink, and you laugh to yourself when you see Emma climb out of it and shake out her hair. Of course Emma would.
You climb out of your car into the slightly chilly morning air and take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the cool damp, and search the parking lot slowly, trying to figure out your next move. There hadn’t been any other directions than to meet here, and there’s no obvious next step. Everyone else, though, presumably more experienced with how this kind of thing works here, is also milling around aimlessly, talking to each other and waiting for something, so you settle for doing the same.
A few moments later, Dr. Way’s shiny, perfectly maintained black convertible pulls slowly into the lot. They climb out of it, heeled boots thunking recognizably on the parking lot asphalt.
“Morning, Honey!” they say, voice nearly dripping with the very stuff, slightly mischievous smile on their face. They’re wearing color for once, a cobalt blue dress with elbow length sleeves, black boots, huge black sunglasses and a colorful silk scarf tied around their hair.
You thought you were done being rendered speechless by them after the first week or so, but here you are.
“You ready for some adventure?”
“I, uh - I think so,” you answer with a nervous laugh.
Dr. Way takes a couple of steps out into the parking lot and puts on their authoritative voice. “Everybody know where you’re going?” they ask.
There’s a chorus of quiet affirmatives and nods from the scientists scattered about. You start to lift a hand to indicate being lost, but Dr. Way tosses you a look and a subtle hand gesture that says don’t worry, be patient - these questions aren’t directed at you, I have other plans for you.
“Okay, wheels up in an hour, you all know the drill. Bradley, did you bring Socks?”
One of the scientists smiles sheepishly and holds up a very small, very fluffy black dog he’s been cradling in his arms.
“Thought so. The hotel wanted to give us some trouble about that, but it’s been taken care of.”
The scientist nods appreciatively.
Dr. Way claps their hands together commandingly and the assembled crowd scatters back to their cars. “You,” they add finally, “are riding with me.”
You find yourself stuttering.
“If you want to, I mean,” they say, seeing your stunned expression. “I know you don’t know how to get out to the runway. You can follow me, if you want. I just thought you might want to ride shotgun.”
“No, I’d like that. You’re right. Thank you.”
They smile and reach for the door handle of their luxurious car. “Just throw your stuff in the back.”
You pull your suitcase from your own backseat and drop it anxiously through the rolled down back window of the large black car before settling into its passenger seat. It’s fun being in this car around, all polished wood and chrome and black paint, and far too many buttons on the dash. Dr. Way looks so at home behind the wheel. What they also look is beautiful. Really, really beautiful. More so than you’re used to. Something about the silk scarf wrapped around their hair and even bigger-than-usual sunglasses has turned their whole thing up to 11, and sitting in the passenger seat of their car has turned whatever emotion you’re used to feeling from following them around up to 11 in turn. It’s all kind of overwhelming, but in a way that isn’t exactly unpleasant.
They glance at you, just for a moment, as you slowly exit the parking lot.
“You look nervous.”
“No, I - I’m fine.”
“If you’re worried about this, it’s going to be nothing. A little bit of the same stuff you do around here and a whole lot of killing time in a nice hotel. Basically a vacation.”
“No, it’s not that, I just - I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” The second half is said with a nervous laugh. You can feel Dr. Way’s unconvinced expression through their large sunglasses, but they apparently decide to let it go.
They’re slowly, but expertly, winding the car through the maze of narrow streets that makes up the back half of the campus. You’re not usually back here, and while it’s not completely unfamiliar, you’re aware you have no idea where you are, and find yourself immensely grateful that the person at the wheel does. Even if this hadn’t sounded like fun, this still would have been the right decision - the place is more than big enough to get lost in, and if you had been driving, you almost certainly would have been.
The morning sun glints off of Dr. Way’s sunglasses, and the words you’ve been fighting to keep in your head and out of your mouth win, though you’re not exactly sure why. It’s not like you’re trying to get anywhere, but it still feels like holding a hot metal ball. The longer it stays in your hands the more it burns. It’s got to go somewhere.
“I like the whole…I like the look this morning. It’s very…you look nice. That’s all I’m trying to say.”
Dr. Way smiles, and you can see the soft wrinkles around their eyes. “You’re very sweet. I just thought I could do with some color, you know?”
“Well, it works.”
“Thank you.”
And they mean it. For someone who seems to deliberately wield their own sexuality as a way to catch people off guard, they look surprisingly touched by the compliment.
The road abruptly turns from asphalt to gravel and weaves through a small patch of forest before emerging again into the morning air and immediately onto a runway, a huge grey paved expanse, and there’s…a plane. An honest to god plane, on the larger side of private jet, engines idling, blue and orange pinstripes down the sides - company colors, of course - and sunlight reflecting off its otherwise shiny white exterior. You can sense your own jaw hanging open.
“Did you think I was kidding about the plane?” Dr. Way asks, clearly amused.
“I…no, I didn’t think you were kidding, it’s just…it’s still different to actually see it. We have a plane.”
“We have several, actually. The others are in that hangar over there.” They point to a building you hadn’t noticed, several hundred yards away on the other side of the runway.
They park the car along the line of other cars accumulated at the edge of the runway. The crowd from the parking lot has decamped here, and the familiar crowd of scientists are slowly boarding the waiting plane, including Bradley with his tiny little dog.
Dr. Way is shifting registers, visibly, into CEO-mode, and there’s something very fun about watching it happen. In situations like this they get waited on hand and foot, and they seem to take a certain amount of pleasure in being as dramatic about it as they can. As soon as you begin to approach the plane, suitcases in hand, there’s a young man at their side, asking them if they’d like the car moved. They agree, and hand over the car keys with an unnecessary amount of flourish. There’s another, just a few seconds later, asking if he can take your suitcases. They hand over their suitcase, and turn to you, silently prompting for a reply.
“Oh, uh - sure, thank you.”
The man takes your suitcases and wheels them away in the direction of the plane.
The last person to approach you is very obviously the pilot, and he approaches Dr. Way with his hand extended. The two shake hands, and you can tell from the look on his face that Dr. Way is rearranging the bones in his hand and that he is NOT prepared for it.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Way. I’m Captain Brian Seaward, I’ll be getting you and your crew to Denver this morning.”
“Very nice to meet you, Brian.”
They finally turn his hand loose, and you can see him trying desperately not to visibly shake it. “You’ve got a fine establishment here. Happy to join the team. Any particular concerns before takeoff?”
“Very kind of you, but we should be fine. Watch out for her, though” - Dr. Way generally indicates the plane itself - “she tends to want to pull left in the wind.”
Both you and the captain do double takes in Dr. Way’s general direction.
“Do you fly, uh - you’ll have to forgive me, I find I’m not sure what the appropriate address for you would be.”
“‘Doctor’ will do fine. And yes, a bit. It comes up now and then.”
“I’m impressed. I don’t usually meet passengers who would be able to take over the cockpit in case of an emergency.”
“Having new experiences is the Way Laboratories speciality. You’ll have a lot of them here,” you say.
Brian smiles, and nods politely to you both.
“Wait, you know how to fly a plane?” you ask, as soon as he’s faded in the background again.
Dr. Way laughs as you ascend the stairs of the jet. “A little, yeah. I’ve flown this a couple of times.”
“How do I keep learning new things about you?”
“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?”
The jet is not particularly large on the inside, but it is beautiful, and the interior aesthetic is very clearly Dr. Way’s, all dark, shiny wood and leather.
“Looks like your office,” you say.
“Is that a compliment?”
“Very much so.”
There’s a small sofa under the windows on one side of the plane, and you can’t resist trying it out. It’s still very early, and you’re still very tired. “How does this thing sleep?” you ask.
“Pretty well, I think,” Dr. Way answers with a smile.
“Will you judge me if I lie down after takeoff?”
“Not at all.”
You settle into one of the actual seats, surprisingly comfortable and made from dark, well conditioned leather. Dr. Way sits across from you and playfully extends one of their feet, nudging your toes with their boot.
“What?” you ask, giggling.
They don’t answer, instead gently trapping the toe of your other shoe under the toe of their boot.
“Hey!”
You try and get them back, but only barely succeed, pinning the toe of their left boot under your sneaker. The game goes on, both of you giggling and trying to trap each other’s toes.
“Get a room, you two,” Emma says. Her tone sounds annoyed, but her face is all affection.
“How did you not tell me we have a plane?”
Emma shrugs. “Never came up, I guess? Honestly I usually forget about it until we need it again.”
“Okay, folks, this is your pilot speaking, we’ve got about a 3 hour and 45 minute flight time to Denver this morning so we’re looking to land around 9:30 AM local time. It’s on the cold side over in Denver, they got some fresh snow overnight and today’s forecast high is a balmy 38 degrees. Other than that we should have a smooth flight this morning, no major rough air reported so everyone just sit back and enjoy our 3 hour and 45 minute flight.”
“Does it annoy you that you’re not flying?” you ask.
Dr. Way shakes their head. “Not even a little. I quite like being chauffeured around.”
“I just thought…since you fly, maybe…?”
“I could have flown it if I wanted but I felt like a nice nap this morning instead.”
“Mood.”
“Do you mind flying? I guess I probably should have asked you that before we got on the plane.”
“Me? I love flying. Like love flying. Despite my reactions to literally everything else, flying is the one thing I can do.”
Dr. Way taps your foot with their boot again, and the game resumes as the small plane taxis down the runway.
Emma makes a small noise as the engines throttle up. “I’m the one who doesn’t love flying,” she says.
“You alright?” Dr. Way asks.
“Not really, no.”
They look at you, a questioning, approval seeking glance - are you okay on your own?
You nod.
Dr. Way switches seats, from the one across from you to the one across from Emma, and puts out their hands. Emma takes them and squeezes tight.
“I always think I’m going to get more okay with it and I never do.”
“I know. I’ve got you. Remember, no matter how it feels, planes are one of the safest modes of transportation.”
“I’d feel better if you were flying,” Emma says quietly.
“I shook hands with the pilot and he seemed very competent. But if I have to kick him out of the cockpit mid-flight I’m not above it.”
Emma laughs. The plane reaches airspeed and you feel the nose lift from the runway. Emma squeezes her eyes shut.
“Breathe with me,” Dr. Way instructs. “In and out.”
Emma follows their breaths, her hands still squeezed tight around theirs.
“I’ve got you,” Dr. Way soothes.
It’s nice to see someone else on the receiving end of Dr. Way’s reassurances, and if anyone deserves it, it’s Emma. You feel the momentary extra half-g as the plane leaves the ground completely. No matter how many times you do it, this never, ever stops being fun. The pilot takes you on a shallow climb and a sharp bank, and then the plane levels out.
“Should be smoother from here,” Dr. Way says.
Emma opens her eyes. “Sorry,” she says quietly.
“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart.
“And how about you?”
“Delighted,” you answer.
“At least one of us is having a good time,” Emma says, sincerely.
Dr. Way squeezes her hands. “I’m here. I’m not going to leave you. I have nowhere else I need to be. I’m going to stay right here.”
“Thank you.”
You stand cautiously and test the plane’s angle - fairly shallow now, the steepest bit of the climb completed - and make good on your question about the sofa. It’s lovely, plush and cool and with the arms at just the right angle to sleep on. “Wake me when we land,” you call to no one in particular.
The gentle drone of the plane makes for the world’s best white noise machine, punctuated only by Dr. Way’s soft conversation with Emma. It’s easy to drift off with the sound of their gentle reassurances in the background, even if they’re not spoken directly to you.