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The fact that Kate had actually taken a holiday still surprised you, even now that you were sitting at the airport waiting for boarding to start. As if to make sure again, that she truly was by your side, you turned your head just so and glanced at her. Indeed, there she sat, reading glasses low on her nose and a book open in her hands. She looked unusually casual with her jeans and soft sweater and her hair pulled back in a low ponytail.
“You are doing it again, Darling.”
“Well, you can hardly blame me. You never take days off. Let alone a whole week.” Kate finished reading her paragraph and then closed her book, carefully placing a bookmark in between the pages. WIth the book resting in her lap, she reached up and took her glasses off. Then she looked at you.
“I am well aware of how long it has been since I took time off voluntarily. But,” she shrugged slightly, her face softening and her lips showing a hint of a smile, “now I have a reason to take time off. You.”
Oh.
Well, you had definitely not expected her to be so sweet so early in the day.
“Charmer.” You mumbled, cheeks having heated up the tiniest bit. Kate only chuckled in amusement.
The chuckle fizzled out though when the speakers overhead came to live and a young man announced that the flight to Nice was ready to board. For a second her reaction made you hesitate, but then she had already reached for her bag and stood up, passport and boarding pass in hand and ready to board. So you simply followed her.
Thanks to Kate’s insistence that paying a bit more was worth the bigger leg room and the early boarding, you were on the plane and in your seats before everyone felt like they needed to storm in and then eventually stand crowded in the middle row without moving an inch for minutes.
Already in the mood for your holiday you grinned to yourself as you pulled out a pair of headphones and turned on the playlist you had made especially for this trip. A week with Kate on the coast of France, no work, no UNIT, no disruption. Wonderful.
The plane slowly filled, Kate sent a last message to her kids to tell them we had boarded before turning her phone into flight mode, the pilot greeted everyone and introduced himself and the plane started to roll onto the runway.
“I hope he’ll-” you cut yourself off when you saw how tightly Kate was gripping the armrest of her seat, her knuckles already white.
“Love?” You asked gently and placed your hand on top of hers. “Are you okay?”
Kate chuckled, it sounded forced and wrong.
“Perfectly alright. Just not a big fan of taking off.” It did surprise you that Kate, your fearless and fierce Kate should be afraid of a simple plane taking off but then again some fears were wholly irrational. Instead of commenting on it you curled your fingers around hers, softening her grip a bit.
“That’s okay, I’m right here and we’ll be in the air in no time.” Kate nodded, but didn’t say anything. You didn’t mind.
For a while it seemed to be fine. Kate did almost break your bones when the plane took off but as soon as the plane had risen above the clouds her hand softened a bit to the point where you were simply holding hands like you had done so many times before.
For a while at least.
At the first, admittedly very small, air pocket her grip turned deadly in seconds. You winced and were just about to protest, but the cold sweat on Kate’s forehead made you pause. Her breathing was off too. You hadn’t ever seen her like this before.
Lie. You had. Once.
After some sort of brutal mission she didn’t want to tell you anything about, she had come home, breathing laboured and hands shaking, tears in her eyes but stubbornly refusing to fall. That’s exactly what she looked like now.
“Love, can you look at me?” Your voice was as soft as it had been back then. Reluctantly Kate did.
“What’s wrong?” You asked. “This is more than a fear of takeoff.”
Unbelievably, Kate tried to grin. Whenever her vulnerability showed, she had the immediate instinct to joke. Deflect with humour. But this was too serious, even for her. Her grin faltered.
“‘Fraid of flying.” She finally admitted, voice obviously strained.
“You never told me.”
“Cause it’s embarrassing. I’m afraid of nothing.”
“Sweetheart, nothing about this is embarrassing.” You softly assure her and drop a featherlight kiss on her sweaty temple.
“This seems like a serious phobia. Have you always been afraid?” She shook her head, eyes downcast and you immediately knew there was a story there. But you didn’t press. She would tell you on her own.
“A few years ago there was an incident with UNIT and the Doctor and… well, someone you have no business knowing about.” It regularly infuriated you that she had the tendency to only tell you half the stories in an effort to ‘protect you’. But now was truly not the time to argue about that.
“We were on a plane, the Doctor and I and some staff and soldiers. We were attacked in the air. I got thrown out of the plane, fell 30,000 feet down.” Your eyes widened comically, one of these days you were going to convince Kate to quit and work on nothing else but her garden because this could not be good in the long run.
Your first instinct was to scold her mercilessly, worry yourself to death, be mad that she never told you about this. But you knew that wouldn’t help. So you stayed calm.
“How on earth did you survive that?”
Kate opened her mouth to answer but winced when the plane shook a bit, her grip immediately tightening further. When the plane steadied she replied, but didn’t loosen her grip.
“Long story, but…someone very important saved me.”
“But now you’re traumatised.” She opened her mouth to argue, but you don’t let her.
"Don't even try. Look at yourself. You’re sweating, anxious, shaking. That's trauma, love. I don’t need a PhD to see that.”
She could hardly argue with that. She knew you were right.
And you knew that the flight was still over one and a half hours long and she needed comfort instead of reprimand. So you flipped the armrest between your bodies up and pulled her closer.
“Come here, my love.” She came willingly, her body curling into yours as much as possible in a plane seat and her cheek resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. Her fingers never let go of yours, as if afraid the world would fall apart if she did. You wrapped your free arm around her shoulders and didn't let her go until the plane’s tires hit the runway in Nice. Only then did she seem to finally be able to breathe properly again. The panic attack lingered in her bones for a while longer.
You leaned down and let your arms slide down her shoulders and around her throat from behind. A soft kiss to her neck made her sigh softly.
“I cancelled the flight back.” Well, that was the end of the comfortable cuddling. She immediately sat up straight, alert and slightly panicked and turned to stare at you.
“What? No, I need to be back on Monday. I have a meeting with the PM.” Softly you brushed some of her hair out of her face.
“Well, I didn’t say we were staying, did I? I only said that I cancelled the flight. I booked trains instead.” She looked at you in confusion, brows furrowed.
“Because you nearly had a panic attack on the flight here.”
Kate looked almost startled. She very obviously didn't understand your train of thought. The idea that someone would want to go the longer route to accommodate her seemed alien to her.
“But the train ride is hours longer. And we’ll have to change trains in Paris.” She argued.
“And you won’t have a panic attack. Unless you have also been hiding your fear of trains from me.” Kate let out a surprised chuckle and shook her head.
“Good. So train it is.”
“Just because of my panic attack?” Kate asked, suddenly much smaller.
“No, because I love you. I’d rather have you relaxed and happy for eight hours than afraid and panicked for two. Not because it is inconvenient, but because I dislike your discomfort.”
Kate looked, only for a moment, as if she might cry. But, Kate never cried easily and so she shook her head instead and pulled you into her lap.
“I don’t deserve you. I really don’t.”
“Oh, Katherine, don’t start. I’m warning you.” You huffed and poked her in the side. She shrieked and giggled girlishly. A rare sound for her. But you cherished it like a rare ray of sunshine on a rainy October day.