Chapter Text
In true Danica fashion, she was late.
She was always late; wherever she went and whatever she did.
Armed with nothing but the clothes on her back, her black peacoat,and her well-loved, tie-dyed knapsack, Danica sprinted through the small airport. Even though it was hopeless, she knew she had to try.
"Stop!" She shouted as she could see the plane departing the terminal through the floor to ceiling windows. "Please, stop!"
Dodging people who apparently had no place to be, scowling whenever she had to change the directions of her path, Danica internally pleaded with God.
I swear I'll start going to church... I swear I'll start going to church!
"Please!" Danica practically skidded to a stop at the gate. "That's my flight, I have to get on." She fumbled with her ticket, slapping it down on the podium, all the while keeping her eyes on the plane slowly turning away from the airport towards the runway.
The man behind the counter stared at her, wide-eyed, before gently pushing the ticket back to Danica.
"No can do, sweetheart. You done missed your flight."
"No, no, no," Danica laughed nervously, pointing to the plane. "It's still here! Just... use this handy dandy thing," she leaned over, tapping the walky talky strapped to his shirt pocket. "Just tell them they have to turn around really quick." She brushed her long bangs out of her face.
The man moved back, disgusted that anyone would attempt to touch his precious walky talky. "Look, sweetheart, it's gone. I ain't callin' no one."
Why is he getting all sassy?!
"It's not gone!" Danica stomped her foot, using both hands to direct his attention to the window behind him.
Slowly the plane picked up speed down the runway.
"Please hurry," she pleaded. "I can't miss this flight, you don't understand."
Mr. Sassy Man pursed his lips and planted a hand on his hip. "No, you don't understand."
Danica's heart pounded as the plane began to lift off the ground. "It's okay, it's still here... just use that thing," she leaned over again to once again tap the walky talky.
"Touch me one more time, girl."
Another gentleman, a much older one, stepped in before threats could be made. "Can I be of some help, Ma'am?"
"Yes! Thank you!" Danica glanced at the name tag of both men. "Paul! Nice to meet you Paul. You see, I'm supposed to be on that plane right there, the one that is getting smaller and smaller the longer we stand here chatting about it, but Kevin here," she glared at Kevin, "won't tell them they left someone behind. But you'll fix that, right? Just call them on this doo-dad for me?" Danica reached and tapped Paul's walky talky and Paul stepped back out of reach.
Kevin gave Paul a look. "She's obsessed."
"Ma'am, please calm down. You simply missed your flight, and I'm very sorry for you, but there is nothing we can do."
"But," as Danica reached over, Kevin raised his hand, signaling to someone behind her, "this thing," she tried to tap one last time, aware she was being childish, but clearly out of ideas.
"Let's go, Ma'am," someone gently placed a hand on her elbow to guide her away from the podium. It was security.
"No, no, I'm sorry, I'll stop! Just call them!" Danica pulled her arm away from the brutish security guard, her closed fist making it's way across the podium and into Paul's shoulder.
Paul staggered back and Kevin gasped a totally over-the-top dramatic gasp.
"Sorry," Danica apologized immediately.
Kevin hissed, "You're a monster!"
"I barely touched him!"
"Alright, Ma'am, that's enough, time to go." The security guard took a firm grip on her elbow this time, pulling her gently.
"I barely touched him! Please, don't! I just want to get home! It's Christmas! Don't be so heartless, please, Paul! At least help me get another flight!"
The guard dragged her away by the elbow.
"But it's Christmas!"
After convincing the guard that her "attempted assault" was a hundred percent accidental, she was let go with a warning and told to leave the airport or else she'd be arrested.
Not wanting to spend Christmas in the county jail, she agreed to leave quietly but fought back tears, not knowing what to do next. Apparently the guard had a heart after all and suggested she get a rental.
Pulling open the door to Randy's Rent-a-Car, a bell jingled, alerting the shop to a customer. At the counter stood two men; a worker wearing the required standard uniform of a red polo with "Randy's" embroidered on the left breast pocket and khakis, and a customer in a leather jacket and a dark gray knit hat. They both glanced her way before quickly losing interest and returning to their conversation.
Feeling like a civilized adult, she stood in line and waited her turn. The hushed Christmas music playing throughout the store wasn't enough to drown out the conversation going on in front of her.
"This is a complete rip off, you do know this, right?" The English accent perked Danica's ears right up.
"It is what it is. Christmas week and all."
Danica didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit.
"Aren't you guys supposed to be prepared for situations like this?
"Take it or leave it, sir. Otherwise I'm sure the lady behind you would gladly accept it without complaints."
Danica smiled, having been addressed. Whatever it was, she was sure she'd gladly accept it without complaints, too. Especially if it was a car that'd get her half way across the United States.
The Brit in front of her turned around and shook his head. "No, now wait a second," he turned back to the other guy. "That ain't right." He groaned and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "Fine. I'll take it."
Danica frowned again. She looked out the window at the parking lot lit up by the street lights realizing it was empty. Granted, it was a small lot, but she found herself agreeing with the guy in front of her.
"Wait a second, and I'm sorry for interrupting," Danica stepped up to the counter, joining the men.
"Then don't..." mumbled the Brit.
Danica ignored him and continued. "I need a car. Just tell me you have a car for me and I'll shut up and wait my turn."
No one said anything.
"Oh my god, please tell me you have a car for me."
The Brit kept his eyes down, refusing to make eye contact. Even the man behind the counter was having a difficult time looking at her.
Finally he spoke. "I'm sorry, but as of this moment, we don't. We are expecting two returns by tomorrow evening, however, if that's any consolation."
"It is not." Danica groaned.
There was no point in fighting about it. The gentleman in front of her got the last car, fair and square. But how badly did he need it anyway? Danica considered challenging him but instead swung her bag over her shoulder and left.
Maybe it was fate. It just wasn't meant to be. No matter how hard she'd swim against the currents, she was not going to get her way. She slumped down onto the curb outside of Randy's and chewed her lip, biting down whenever she felt the sting of tears threatening to pour out.
Danica pulled out her phone and considered calling a taxi to take her back home. As she sat there in her self pity and self loathing, she wondered how to break the news to her parents that she wouldn't be home for Christmas after all. Forever their little disappointment.
She heard a car driving past and glanced up, brushing her hair out of her face. It was an embarrassingly small blue car which in normal circumstances she'd never be caught dead driving. But now? She wanted it so bad. The car slowed and stopped in front of her.
The driver rolled the window down and she saw it was the Brit. He had removed his hat and his brown hair was a mess.
"Are you okay?" He asked, running his hand through his hair.
Danica stood up, brushing off her butt, and smiled. "I'm fine. Just mentally preparing to call my folks. Merry Christmas." She rolled her eyes and started to walk away.
Slowly he drove next to her, staying by her side. "I feel like an asshole, but I needed this car."
"It's fine. Really."
"Can you at least tell me I'm not an asshole? Otherwise it's going to eat at me for the rest of the night. And possibly tomorrow. And especially on Christmas Day."
Danica stopped in her tracks. "Dude, it's fine. I've no one to blame but myself. I missed my flight, but it's my fault. It's always my fault. You got the car first, which I wouldn't have needed if I didn't miss my flight. So really, your conscience should be clear. You've done nothing wrong."
"I missed the flight, too."
Danica cocked her head, unsure she heard correctly. "The flight to New York?"
He nodded, groaning. "See, I am an asshole."
"I don't understand... how do you even know I missed that flight too?"
"You were picking a fight with the staff when I showed up. Just figured I'd better get a car while I could."
Danica scoffed. "I was NOT picking a fight!"
He cocked his brow.
"I wasn't! Whatever. Just be on your way. Merry Christmas."
"I'm an asshole."
"Yes, you're an asshole."
Danica resumed walking, simply to get away. She had some choice words but was too angry to get them across clearly without looking like a stuttering fool.
It's my own fault... it's my own fault.
Again, the car caught up to her, cruising alongside.
"Do you have any money?"
Danica clutched tightly to the straps of her knapsack. "Not much... Why?"
He put the car in park and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I want to do the right thing here. If you're not a serial killer, I'm willing to let you ride with me. To New York."
"What if you're the serial killer?"
"Good question. I understand if you don't want to. But if you've got some money, we can split the gas. And, you know, in the spirit of Christmas, I'd like to help you out if I can."
Danica chewed her lip, considering the idea. "So you're not a serial killer?"
"I'm not."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
Danica nodded. "Yeah. In the spirit of Christmas. We'll help each other out."
"Great then, hop in." He drummed a beat on the steer wheel as she ran around the front of the car and got in.
The heat was on and already the little car was toasty warm. Danica shrugged out of her coat and buckled up.
He extended a hand and she shook it. "I'm Tom."
"Danica."
"Nice to meet you. Ready?"
Danica smiled. "Yup, let's go!