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Airports were the transport systems to big adventures. The joy of travelling nationwide, no, worldwide the way her father did set a fire that burned in Katrielle's heart. When she was told that she was needed for a case that required her to catch a plane, she wasted no time packing her things and rounding up her two assistants to accompany her.
She should be landing in her destination by now, halfway to the hotel that was booked by Scotland Yard for her to offer her assistance to Interpol come sunrise.
So why was she stuck in such a cramped little space, forced to listen to promises of flights leading to faraway lands through the intercoms of the airport at three in the morning?
Much more so, how did she get talked into staying in one of those micro hotels located on the airport premises?
"I'm sorry, miss...I know you're sad that you booked a flight as fast as you could only for it to be delayed...but look on the bright side! We won't have to rush out so terribly just to meet everyone."
She gave a noncommittal grunt in response.
The room was big enough for them to stay temporarily, but far too small for it to be comfortable in any capacity. One can't stand in the room unless they were a child, the tv was arguably too close to where it would ruin one's eyes, and the nearest bathroom was out of the complex and in the airport proper. This was for the overworked businessperson to catch a few winks in between flights or the occasional drunk to sober up before heading back out, not for two young people and their dog to crash for the night!
She and Ernest were forced to lie on the only bed (or was it considered the barracks?) located in the tiny pod they temporarily resided in. Lied on top of him, she laid her head on his chest, listening to the juxtaposition of his rapid heartbeat to the droning of announcements and the horror flick that played on the tiniest of screens.
If Kat wasn't in a foul mood, she might have considered the position funny, or maybe even a little cute.
But no, this was frustrating.
Sherl grumbled from his place behind Ernest's head.
"If you had just waited for Scotland Yard to give you the tickets or transported you over there instead of insisting to go off without them in a hurry, you probably wouldn't be here."
"They were dragging their feet, Sherl! If I waited another moment, chances are they'd start solving without me!"
"Wouldn't that be the case now since you're stuck here?"
She clicked her teeth.
Ernest gingerly cut in on the conversation.
"Now, now… Maybe they'll hold off until Miss Layton gets there. After all, the heads of the investigation called for her personally."
"Gee, I hope so. Kind of a shame we're stuck staying in this tiny place but it was the only place we can afford…"
Sherl scoffed.
"You two were hemming and hawing up and down the airport lobby until you realized you had the shoe-string budget of a self-employed woman and her broke college student friend!"
"I don't see you coughing up any bones for the trip, Mr. Moneybags!"
An incessant banging was heard in the distance followed by a "Who's yelling with their dog in here!?"
"Shhhh! Both of you keep it down! It's bad enough sneaking Sherl in, but we're not supposed to even be in one room together, it's against the rules!"
They both muttered a weak apology and quieted down.
"You know, we might have to do this again once we get over there...you know, sharing a room," Katrielle said musing aloud.
Ernest's face flushed and he hoped it wasn't visible in the semi-lit room.
"Um, I...I guess so. At least the room would be bigger and I can sleep on the couch so you can have your privacy."
She hummed thoughtfully at the statement.
"Actually, I wouldn't be against sharing a bed with you again."
His body stiffened.
"I...H-Huh?"
"I tend to sleep a lot better when I'm holding onto something...or someone. Plus you'll hurt your back from sleeping in those chairs for too long, trust me."
His tongue was tied to the point where all he answered was a "Uh-huh."
"Well…?"
"Erm, 'well' what?"
She puffed out her cheeks and crawled up to where her face was over his. Her haunting blue eyes glowed from the luminosity of the tv screen beside them. The question was whispered quickly, but he managed to catch what she said.
"D-Do you want to sleep with me or not?"
He felt a lump in his throat that he desperately tried to swallow past.
"Miss Layton, that's...that's not something you should be asking while we're this close. That's dangerous…"
"You don't want to try it? Not even a little bit?"
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to… But that's not very gentlemanly—or gentlewomanly—to do that sort of thing."
"But we're doing it now. And besides, I won't tell anyone if you won't."
He took a deep breath and held it. This was going far too fast for him to process. And the smile she gave was certainly insinuating more than what was on the surface. It was a battle between his head and his heart, with his heart winning almost immediately.
"I...um...Are you sure you'd want to do this? With me?"
Her fingers traced his bow with a feathery touch.
"I wouldn't ask anyone else about this."
"Miss Layton…" his voice trembled.
"Ahem!"
An important detail did not occur until then... Sherl was still there and quite plainly still listening to their conversation. He was a fly on the wall, or dog as a pillow, to the intimate conversation that initiated.
"...Ah, Sherl! L-Listen, it's not what it sounds like! I...I mean—"
"No please, I get it. No need to hide everything. I'll just go sleep outside next time you two wanna play hanky panky."
"Hanky panky…? No! It's just...Miss Layton just has trouble sleeping and...Please miss! Please explain to him!"
Kat barely held in a snicker as Ernest kept deflecting every statement the dog would make. Between those two, perhaps her downtime before the case would be entertaining at the very least.