Chapter Text
The flight was supposed to be easy.
They’d spent Thanksgiving in El Paso with Eddie’s parents, his sisters, and all the kids running around until they were so full of turkey and pie that they couldn’t move anymore. It had been good, being around family again. As much as Eddie didn’t regret moving to L.A., he still hadn’t quite found his people there. Sure, there was Abuela and Tía Pepa, and they were incredible, but he’d missed this: the warmth of his parents’ house, the chaos of so many people in one place. It had been a good weekend. God knows he needed it. They both did.
Now all that was left was just over two hours in the air, and then they’d be back in L.A. Eddie had planned everything down to the minute—what snacks to bring, when Christopher would inevitably nap (even if it was just for thirty minutes), how many times he’d need to distract him with games on his tablet so he wouldn’t talk the ear off the poor stranger sitting next to him about space or dinosaurs or, most recently, his newest obsession—planes. Christopher had spent the entire weekend asking his cousins a million questions about how planes worked, why they didn’t fall out of the sky, and how they were even built in the first place. Eddie figured the person sitting next to them didn’t deserve a TED Talk on aerodynamics from a six-year-old.
It was mostly foolproof.
Except for the part where Christopher lost his first tooth at the airport.
It had come out while they were waiting to board, and Christopher had been thrilled. So thrilled, in fact, that he refused to let it out of his sight, clutching the tiny, jagged thing in his hand like it was a priceless artifact instead of something that had just fallen out of his mouth.
And now, as they settled into their seats on the plane, Eddie was already sweating. Not from the heat—God, no. It was almost December, and he’d just peeled Christopher out of his winter coat—but from the way his son was clutching the tooth in his small fist like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.
“Okay, mijo,” he said, letting Christopher climb into the middle seat as he shoved his crutches and their backpacks under the seat in front of them. “Just keep it in your pocket for now, okay? Don’t—”
“It’s not going in my pocket!” Christopher said indignantly, holding the tooth up like Eddie had just suggested he throw it into the ocean. “What if it falls out?”
“Then put it in my pocket,” Eddie said, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Or your backpack. Or—”
“No,” Christopher interrupted, shaking his head with the conviction of someone making a life-or-death decision. “It stays right here. In my hand. Until I can put it under my pillow for the Tooth Fairy.”
“Chris,” Eddie started, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to summon the patience he was pretty sure he’d left back at the gate. “You’re going to drop it if you—”
And then it happened.
The tiny tooth slipped out of Christopher’s hand and hit the tray table with a light tink. Before Eddie could even blink, it was gone, tumbling to the floor somewhere between their feet.
Christopher’s face crumpled instantly, his eyes wide with panic as he stared at Eddie like his world was ending. “DAD!” he cried. “It’s gone!”
Eddie swore under his breath, unbuckling his seatbelt as he leaned down to search the floor. “It’s not gone, mijo. It’s just—just let me find it, okay? Stay calm.”
“I have to put it under my pillow!” Christopher wailed. “If I don’t, the Tooth Fairy won’t come! That’s what Mia said, and she knows, dad! She’s lost, like, three teeth already!”
Eddie groaned, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks as he reached blindly under the seat, praying no one was paying attention to the scene they were making. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll find it. Just give me a—”
“You know,” came a voice from the window seat next to them, light and amused, “if you lose a tooth on a plane, the Tooth Fairy gives you fifty bucks.”
Eddie froze, blinking up at the man sitting across from them. He looked to be around Eddie’s age, maybe late twenties, with short golden hair that looked like he’d been running his hands through it all day and the kind of blue eyes that practically twinkled when he smiled.
Christopher’s head whipped around so fast Eddie was worried he’d get whiplash. “Fifty dollars?!” he whispered, as if in on a secret, his panic forgotten, his eyes wide and hopeful.
“Oh yeah,” the guy said, nodding solemnly like he was delivering the gospel truth. “Planes are, like, premium Tooth Fairy territory. Super high altitude, you know? Big payout.”
Christopher gasped, clutching his seatbelt with both hands. “That’s so much!”
“Fifty bucks,” the man confirmed, grinning. “Guaranteed.”
Eddie finally sat up, shooting the guy a look over Christopher’s shoulder that was somewhere between grateful and incredulous. “Really?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Fifty bucks? Is that so?”
The guy just shrugged, his grin widening. “What can I say? Tooth Fairy policies are very generous around the holidays.”
Eddie sighed, turning back to Christopher. “Mijo, look,” he deadpanned, pointing to the guy. “The Tooth Fairy decided to sit next to us.”
The man laughed—loud and unrestrained, the kind of laugh that drew attention but didn’t feel out of place. Christopher giggled, too, his earlier panic replaced with sheer delight.
“You’re the Tooth Fairy?” Christopher asked, looking at him like he was Santa Claus and a superhero all rolled into one.
“Of course,” the man said, straightening up and puffing out his chest a little. “But you can call me Buck.”
“Buck?” Christopher wrinkled his nose. “That’s a funny name for a fairy.”
Buck gasped and clutched his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “Hey, that’s not a very nice thing to say to a fairy, buddy. Buck the Tooth Fairy has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Christopher giggled again, and Eddie shook his head, trying to fight the small smile tugging at his lips.
“All right, Buck the Tooth Fairy,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Since you’re here, maybe you can help me convince my son that the Tooth Fairy doesn’t need a pillow to work her magic.”
“Hmm.” Buck tapped his chin thoughtfully, turning to Christopher like they were in the middle of a very serious negotiation. “Tell you what, kid. If we can’t find the tooth, I’ll let the Tooth Fairy know personally. No pillow required. Deal?”
Christopher’s brow furrowed in thought. He glanced at Buck, then at Eddie, and finally back at Buck again. “You’ll tell her yourself?” he asked, his voice skeptical but still tinged with the hope only a six-year-old could muster.
“Pinky promise.” Buck held up his little finger next to Chris’s, his expression solemn. “I’ve got connections. Direct line to Tooth Fairy HQ.”
Christopher stared at him as he slid his own finger around Buck’s, his face a mix of awe and curiosity. “How come you know her?”
Buck grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Well, you see, it’s kind of a secret, but…” He looked around as if checking to make sure no one else was listening, then whispered, “I’m her top agent.”
Christopher’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Her top agent?”
“Yup. Every time a kid loses a tooth, I get the call. It’s my job to make sure it gets where it needs to go. Even if it’s on a plane.”
Eddie bit back a laugh, watching Christopher hang on Buck’s every word. “You hear that, Chris?” he said, gesturing to Buck. “You’re in good hands. Top agent, right here.”
Christopher nodded solemnly, his panic officially replaced with wonder. “Okay,” he said, finally letting out a breath. “If you’re sure.”
“Absolutely sure,” Buck said, sitting back in his seat with a grin. “Now, how about you tell me about these planes you’re so into? I’m guessing you’re basically a pro already.”
And that was it. The tooth was officially forgotten.
They didn’t end up finding that damn thing. But it didn’t matter.
The rest of the flight was spent with Christopher chattering away to Buck, bouncing between questions about the Tooth Fairy, airplanes, and the logistics of flying at high altitudes. Buck answered every one of them like he’d been waiting his whole life to give a TED Talk on aerodynamics to a six-year-old.
Eddie found himself watching the two of them more than he cared to admit. There was something about Buck that surprised him—how easily he connected with Christopher, how naturally he seemed to fall into the chaos of it all without a hint of awkwardness or discomfort.
It was rare for someone to connect with Christopher so effortlessly, and rarer still for Eddie to feel comfortable enough to let it happen, but there was something disarming about Buck. Something that made Eddie’s usual guard slip without him even realizing it.
By the time the plane began its descent into L.A., Christopher was asleep in the window seat.
At some point during the flight, Buck had gotten up to use the bathroom, and Christopher had seized the opportunity to climb into his seat for a better view of the sunset. Buck hadn’t minded, of course. But Eddie, feeling slightly guilty, had offered his aisle seat as a consolation prize (because it was when Buck stood up that Eddie had realized just how tall the guy was, and he wasn’t about to make him cram into a middle seat for his son).
When Buck returned, he slid easily into Eddie’s old seat and spent the next fifteen minutes pointing out clouds and guessing how fast the plane was going, which Christopher ate up like candy. Now, though, the kid was knocked out, his cheek smushed against the window, his hands curled loosely in his lap.
Buck turned to Eddie as they began to gather their things. His voice was softer now, a little unsure. “It was nice meeting you guys,” he said, shouldering his bag. “Christopher’s a great kid.”
Eddie paused, glancing at Christopher before looking back at Buck. “Yeah,” he said quietly, nodding. “He is.” Then, after a beat, he added, “And thanks. For… you know. The Tooth Fairy thing.”
Buck grinned, his easy charm returning. “Anytime. You ever need backup, the Tooth Fairy is always available.”
Eddie huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Sure. You can have my back any day.”
Buck grinned and took a step toward the aisle, but before he could leave, Eddie hesitated. On impulse, he leaned forward and caught Buck’s arm.
“Hey,” he said, and Buck turned back, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You forgot to leave your fifty bucks.”
For a split second, Buck blinked, caught off guard—but then he broke into a startled laugh, loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby passengers. “Oh, shoot,” he said, patting his pockets like he was searching for the cash. Instead, he pulled out a pen and a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket. Scribbling something down, he handed it to Eddie with a crooked grin. “Here,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly, suddenly more deliberate. “I’ll get you next time. Maybe over some coffee?”
Eddie stared at the piece of paper for a second, blinking at the phone number written across it. His brain short-circuited just long enough for him to feel the warmth creeping up his neck. He cleared his throat, lifting the paper as if in proof. “Yeah,” he said, trying—and mostly failing—to sound casual. “I’d like that.”
Buck nodded, his grin widening. “Good.”
And then, with one last glance at Christopher, he disappeared down the aisle.
Eddie stood there for a moment, staring at the slip of paper in his hand.
“Dad,” Christopher mumbled, his voice groggy as Eddie reached over to gently shake him awake.
“Come on, mijo,” he said softly, folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket as he helped Christopher gather his things. “Time to go home.”
And as they made their way off the plane, Eddie found himself smiling. Home might not be fully built yet, and they might have to work really hard before it ever feels like one, but as he glanced down at Christopher and thought about the number burning a hole in his pocket, he realized that maybe building that home wouldn’t be so hard after all.
Not with the Tooth Fairy in their corner, anyway.