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On the Interplanetary
Dec. 21st, 2005 09:12 pmThere aren't many people riding the Interplanetary from Ganymede today, which means that Spike and Beth have plenty of room to themselves. The shuttle's laid out with 14 rows in a 2-6-2 pattern; the aisles are hugely wide and the seats are the size of easy chairs. They recline fully for sleeping without cutting off the blood supply of the person in the seat behind which is a damn good thing as far as Spike and his long legs are concerned. They've taken a quiet pair of seats in the back left corner: the back right is outfitted with private bathrooms with showers. Also a damn good thing as far as he's concerned, even if he and Beth can't shower together.
Or maybe they can: what the hell. Who's going to keep track?
(That thought makes him smile.)
Once they've left Ganymede's gravitational pull, the shuttle actually feels pretty much like it's floating, although the stars rushing by disprove that lazy suspended feel. Each seat has a side pocket with menus and a movie schedule and information on each spaceport. The food choices aren't all that extensive but they cost a fucking fortune and he's glad they had potechi before they left. The martinis at that little corner bar were pretty damn good, too.
Beth's got the window seat; Spike could care less. He's seen this stuff for years and years but she might get a kick out of the viewing windows; they can always switch if she gets tired of looking out on space. But he picked these seats very carefully. They have about the most privacy of any seats on the shuttle. They have a good view of the other passengers. They're near the bath and showers. They can see the big movie screen if they want. There's no one behind them to listen in on their conversation.
But best of all, this corner's dark. They can steal a private moment here and there when they want, and no one's going to be watching them.
And they can make fun of the flight attendants' outfits all they want without getting in trouble.
Spike reaches for Beth's hand. "Not a bad way to travel." He gives her a look that's pure appreciation drizzled with desire.
Or maybe they can: what the hell. Who's going to keep track?
(That thought makes him smile.)
Once they've left Ganymede's gravitational pull, the shuttle actually feels pretty much like it's floating, although the stars rushing by disprove that lazy suspended feel. Each seat has a side pocket with menus and a movie schedule and information on each spaceport. The food choices aren't all that extensive but they cost a fucking fortune and he's glad they had potechi before they left. The martinis at that little corner bar were pretty damn good, too.
Beth's got the window seat; Spike could care less. He's seen this stuff for years and years but she might get a kick out of the viewing windows; they can always switch if she gets tired of looking out on space. But he picked these seats very carefully. They have about the most privacy of any seats on the shuttle. They have a good view of the other passengers. They're near the bath and showers. They can see the big movie screen if they want. There's no one behind them to listen in on their conversation.
But best of all, this corner's dark. They can steal a private moment here and there when they want, and no one's going to be watching them.
And they can make fun of the flight attendants' outfits all they want without getting in trouble.
Spike reaches for Beth's hand. "Not a bad way to travel." He gives her a look that's pure appreciation drizzled with desire.
