Chapter Text
Greta stepped into Grand Central Station, her senses overwhelmed. The station was thrumming with people, some carrying their suitcases, some pulling their small children in tow. She glanced around and knew immediately Carson would be difficult to spot within the flow of people. She maneuvered to stand just to the side of the arrivals board, lines of digital text detailing all the trains scheduled for the day. Carson should be in this next rush of people, within 15 minutes. Greta shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling more nervous than she had thought.
Carson spotted her first. The tall redhead was standing over by the arrivals board, and Carson was one hundred percent confident that it was Greta. A few people pushed past, huffing frustrated sighs, as Carson stood still for a moment, taking in her lover, as she shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around, like a wren about to take flight.
Greta didn’t realize what was happening until Carson was nearly on top of her. The rush of footsteps, the thud of a suitcase hastily hitting the floor and suddenly Carson’s full weight was against her. Greta, on instinct, placed her hands at Carson’s waist and lifted her up. A small squeal as Carson’s feet left the floor and Greta spun them both a full rotation. It was as if Carson was pulled into her orbit, arms clasped around her neck, her head resting against Greta’s shoulder.
Greta opened her eyes, blinking sleep from them in the darkness. She rolled over to check the time, it felt way too early to be awake. The train station dream again. Carson was still away for work, and had been for the past two weeks. Something about the train station felt really romantic, the old architecture and way train traveling felt slower, more present. Carson would be home tomorrow, and Greta would pick her up from the airport early in the morning after her red eye flight. Greta tried to fall back asleep, wishing Carson wasn’t so far away.
***
Greta’s alarm was loud and insistent at 5am. She was half asleep, pulling on a hoodie and leggings, padding to the kitchen to make a french press full of coffee. Her only phone notification was a text from Carson at 11pm - boarding now. Can’t wait to kiss you in a few hours. Greta checked the time again and rushed to brush her teeth, butterflies low in her stomach.
Greta placed a travel mug of coffee, for Carson, in the center cup holder. The drive at this hour was quick, though parking proved to be a pain as usual. Greta’s hands shook a little as she pulled the key from the ignition, it was hard to tell if it’s the caffeine on an empty stomach or the fact she hadn’t seen Carson in nearly three weeks. She left the coffee mug in the car.
Greta waited in arrivals, the screen flicking between different sets of arriving flights. Carson’s flight just landed, followed by a text - just landed, love. Greta shifted from one foot to the other, the arrivals area nearly empty aside from a few other people also waiting for their red eye arrivals. She wondered who they were waiting for, what made them choose to come inside rather than idle in the pick-up lane like so many others.
The sound of footsteps getting faster pulled Greta from her thoughts, the low hum of rolling suitcase wheels on the tile. She saw Carson, smiling wide, nearly running toward her. Greta scooped her up in a tight embrace, catching her balance before spinning them once. Carson didn’t get enough height on the hug to wrap her legs around Greta’s hips, and Greta held her close before gently bouncing her up a little higher so she could.
“Carson…”
“There was so much turbulence, it feels good to be on solid ground,” Carson mumbled into Greta’s shoulder, into her hair. Greta held her up off the ground still, but she knew exactly what she meant.
“You’re ok, I’ve got you. I missed you,” Greta placed a few soft kisses against the side of Carson’s head. She smelled like hotel shampoo, and Greta’s long slow inhale found the familiar, comforting, scent layered underneath. Carson always felt like home.
“Missed you too,”
“Let’s go home, and go back to bed for a bit?” Greta lowered her carefully, so she could get her feet stable on the ground.
“I’d really like that,” Carson found her footing, and held tight to Greta’s hand; her body exhausted and coming down from the adrenaline of the bumpy landing.