Who: Sebastian Smythe & Cooper Anderson
Notes: Sebastian is changed hands from one Marshal to another.
Despite having flown what had to be hundreds of times in his life, Sebastian had never been a big fan of it. It made him a little dizzy, and hurt his head and dried him out and ugh. He hated it. The fact that he was driving in fucking cattle class right then made it all the worse. The seats were tiny, and there were babies screaming, and the aisles were cramped and... ugh. It was just fucking awful from every perspective. His assigned Marshal for the day was boring and grumpy and reading a boring magazine. And in what Sebastian was starting to think of as his "past life" he might have had an iPod and Sennheiser headphones, and a tablet to keep him entertained and blocked from the world. He had no such luck now. The program wasn't exactly about giving him expensive electronics. Fuck, they were making him wear H&M. Long gone were his days of Ralph Lauren and Hugo Boss. It really was a travesty.
It also meant he was as bored as fuck.
He'd done the Sudoku puzzle in the airline magazine, and was now impatiently tapping his pencil on the tray table. The Marshal occasionally glared at him, but Sebastian didn't care. He was bored.
This Marshal was no fun. Sebastian had to think he'd lucked out with his previous protector. He'd been a pretty cool dude, and had a good sense of humour. Too bad he'd had to go off and have a damn baby. He'd been gushing about it for the past month, and he hadn't been able to leave Sebastian alone when his wife went into labour two weeks early, so Sebastian had even had to come to the hospital. He was not ever planning on having kids if it made people scream like that. Holy fuck. But the baby had been kind of cute, in a.... squishy way. He'd even held the tiny little blob, the Marshal insistent on sharing the joy with every fucking person around. And so that had been fun little excursion, until Sebastian had realised that he now had to get relocated to another asshole Marshal.
The flight eventually started to make its descent. He groaned and started swallowing, hating the way his ears popped constantly. Eventually, the plane touched down, one of the rougher landings Sebastian had experienced. He supposed that's what happened when you flew with South West though.
Being in the back fucking corner meant being the last people off the plane. He knew that was the plan, but it didn't mean Sebastian liked it. He hated being inside, just wanted to get out, even if it was in bumfuck Ohio. Eventually, asshole-Marshal stood, letting Sebastian out into the aisle, and lead the way out of the near empty plane. Sebastian grabbed his backpack from above his head, his only belongings crammed into one small (shitty quality) bag, and slung it over his shoulder, following after him. He crossed his arms over his chest, zipping his hoodie up so that the cold fall breeze didn't cut through to his bones. It was a shitty hoodie anyway, but hopefully it'd do the job.
The Marshal lead him out into the Gate, and Sebastian sullenly followed after him.
