Unplanned Variables

Lara straightened up from tying her shoe. Nearby, a group of imposing men got off the escalator looking like lost tourists. She observed them for a few seconds, debating whether to offer help. Broad shoulders and confident posture made them seem like they should be in uniform. But they weren’t. Two in front were discussing the butterfly garden, while three behind took in the unusual layout of the terminal. One at the back was frowning down at his phone, thumbs tapping the screen rapidly. Lara found herself glancing his way again.

She let out a quiet sigh and approached the group.

“Sorry for eavesdropping, but the butterfly garden is back there,” Lara pointed behind her. “Keep walking that way and it should be on your left."

AJ, upfront thanked her, “Is it worth visiting? My daughter saw it on Instagram and won't stop talking about it.”

Lara shrugged, “It's small but I like it, lots of pretty butterflies.”

“Great!” AJ replied, “Thanks. It's just hard to locate."

The group had shifted attention to her, and even Damon, glued to his phone, glanced up.

“You guys are US military, right?” Lara asked, grinning. “Good thing you’ve got large budgets for advanced navigation."

“Sorry?” AJ frowned.

Lara pointed to a sign right above their heads. The group chuckled, some embarrassed, some amused.

At least I got his attention, Lara thought, catching the faintest smile from Damon.

“I think this is the first time I’ve been burned as part of a group," Tex said from behind AJ.

Lee joined in, “Why are the pretty ones always so savage?”

“Can you blame me?” Lara continued, laughing, “Six of you, not one noticed the giant sign. It was too easy! Sorry! Anyway, enjoy the butterflies and safe travels.”

She started to walk off but James stopped her. “Hey, you know this airport? Mind if I ask a couple of questions?”

Lara answered a few questions about the terminal’s unusual security setup — none of the men had been routed through Changi before. James clocked Damon looking up from his phone — watching more than listening.

After apologizing to him once again for teasing them, Lara headed off with her little carry-on luggage in tow.

Damon watched Lara walk away — oversized purple t-shirt, black joggers, white sneakers — and onto an escalator going down.

She glanced back, catching his eye. She smiled with a little wave. He smiled back without even realizing.

“You coming to see this garden thing?,” Sarge said, “or has something else caught your attention?”

“Oh, something else has definitely caught his eye,” James quipped, nodding towards Lara's retreating form.

Damon motioned towards the butterfly garden, “alright, alright, let's go.”

James studied Damon’s face as they walked.

“What?” Damon was defensive. “Okay fine there was something about her, but do I chase her through an airport? This isn't a cheesy romcom.”

“Relax, man. You just had this…look,” James said, laughing. “Come on — let's go check out some butterflies.”

Damon glanced back once more, “How did she know we were US military?”

“Maybe she’s a spy and it was in her briefing packet?” James grinned gesturing at Damon, “definitely not the discount Captain America vibe here.”

--

The team of six men were seated in bulkhead rows, at the front of the cabin to accommodate their size.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Lara muttered, looking at her seatmates.

Toward the front of the cabin, James — on the aisle — nudged Damon with his knee. "Well, would you look at that," he remarked. Damon gave James a dismissive side-eye but, despite himself, was quietly delighted.

"Hey, the butterfly girl!" AJ, across the aisle, called out and jumped up to help her stow her bag.

Butterfly girl — yeah, that tracks. Lara felt a flutter of butterflies. Calm down — he’s not even in your row.

"I'm in 48K," Lara said.

"Damn, me and Sarge were all set to stretch out with an empty seat. Had to make an entrance, didn’t you?" Tex pretended to be annoyed.

"I'm so sorry," Lara explained. "Stopped to chat with my friend working up in business class. Got shooed back to cattle class when she got busy."

Lara slid into her window seat. Second row, no seat in front — a strategic pick for a nearly 16-hour flight.

Sarge, now in the middle seat, surveyed the scene with a contented look.

"This is nice, isn’t it? Very comfy airplane."

Lara looked over at the large 1.9m-tall man squished into a middle seat.

"To be honest, I haven’t seen anyone this happy to fly long haul in economy before."

"Beats flying in a military plane," Tex offered.

Lara felt a twinge of guilt—she had a spacious seat, while Sarge was folded into his.

“You know what?" she said, turning to him. “I’d fit much better in that seat. Let’s swap.”

“Kind of you, ma’am," Sarge politely declined. “But it's fine, I've been in worse situations.”

"Please - 'Ma’am' makes me feel like a dinosaur. I'm Lara. And I insist", she said already gathering her stuff. "But on condition that we swap back if I feel myself going stir-crazy."

"Deal," Sarge said, gratefully accepting the trade. "I'm Jeff, by the way."

“Yes!” Tex fake-pushed Sarge to the window seat. “No offense bro, but I never get to sit next to the hot girl.”

One aisle over, James elbowed his longtime friend, who seemed lost in thought. “There it is again — that look.”

“There is no look!” Damon shot back. “Okay, fine—as your friend, maybe I noticed her. It’s not a crime. She’s cute. But as someone who outranks you—shut up. Now move. I left the iPad in the overhead; gotta finish those forms.”

He playfully shoved James and climbed over him.

As Damon reached up, he noticed the seat swapping commotion across the aisle and paused.

“Everything okay over here?” he asked, looking at Lara. “If Tex gets too chatty or annoying, just let me know—I can swap with you. You’d be next to James. He’s quiet. Usually too busy missing his kids to bug you.”

“Major,” Tex cut in, “we have a good thing going here. Don't be jealous cause this nice lady wants to sit next to me. She claimed it was to give Sarge more space, but we know that was just a cover.”

Lara shook her head and laughed.

“Yes, we’re fine here, just getting settled in for the flight,” she said, eyes on Damon. “But if James—was it?—was offering his seat…I’d be tempted.”

Lee’s eyebrows went up. AJ mouthed ‘damn’ under his breath.

Damon was caught a little off guard. Wait… is she saying she wants to be next to me? His eyebrow rose and a slow, crooked smile curved his lips. “Copy that. I’ll arrange it if needed.”

Damon returned to his seat grinning and caught James’s smug expression.

“You forgot the iPad there Major Lovestruck,” James said with a grin.

Just then the announcement came on: the flight was being prepared for take off.

--

Shortly after reaching cruising altitude, Lara frowned at her phone and cursed under her breath.

“Something wrong?” Sarge asked.

“Oh—sorry. You weren't supposed to hear that,” she said. “In-flight Wi-Fi isn’t up yet. I was going to post about being wedged between two big buff men for the next several hours. My ex still watches my stories. Thought he might enjoy it.”

Tex perked up at the word ex.

“Ex, you say? You should post a photo.” He leaned forward and swiped at Lee’s head. “Hey, Gen Z — take this picture.”

Lara hesitated before agreeing, “Oh why not”. She handed her phone to Lee.

Damon caught movement across the aisle and looked up.

“What are those knuckleheads doing?” Damon glanced up to see the impromptu photo session — AJ and Lee were dangling over their seats trying to squeeze into a selfie.

“You’re not even pretending to hide your perving now?” James said dryly. “She looks happy - Having fun with the boys. You focus on your paperwork, don’t get distracted. Otherwise I’ll be stuck doing that.”

Damon rolled his eyes, got one last glance at Lara and the group still clowning around, then returned to his iPad, smiling.

–

By the time the crew reached their row for meal service, Damon had finished the last form and set his iPad aside.

The flight attendant listed the options: “Chicken with pasta, Chinese-style fish, or Indian vegetarian.”

“The fish, please,” James said, then added in a low voice — mostly for Damon’s benefit — “And I think my friend here’s developed an appetite for Indian.”

The flight attendant tilted his head, puzzled.

Damon kicked James under the tray table. “We’ll both have the fish,” he said quickly. “Thanks.”

Midway through dinner, Damon's phone buzzed.

Aly:

So what's this about a girl from the airport? The one on your flight? Do you have a photo?

Damon let out a sigh. “Is there anything you don't tell your wife?”

James didn't look up, “Nope. Your sister knows everything. Plus, you know she gets excited about these things - always trying to set you up with someone.”

“Exactly, she's probably planning my wedding to this woman I'll never see again. And she asked for a picture."

“Sounds like your sister is more invested in this romcom than you are, and you're the lead. Get in the spirit already."

James glanced across the aisle — and grinned. Lara had struck up a conversation with Tex and Sarge over their dinner trays.

“Those two,” she said lightly, nodding toward Damon and James. “They always this serious?”

“Kinda,” Tex said. “That’s the boss in the middle — Major Curtis. Cap’s on the aisle. We all mess around, but the Major runs a tight ship when it counts.”

“They’re alright. Probably busy wrapping up post-detachment work,” Sarge added. “Also, he’s single. The Major.” He didn't bat an eye. “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Lara knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tex grinned, “We call him Ghost. Blink, he’s gone. But somehow, shit is handled.”

“And the stories that follow him? Woah."

Sarge gave a low whistle and looked at Tex “Do you know about Sector Nine?”

They both paused, then looked at Lara and went quiet — like they’d said too much.

Lara rolled her eyes.“Yeah, yeah — big, scary classified military stuff. Got it.”

But her gaze drifted through the gap in the seats and landed on Ghost.

Back across the aisle, James peeled the foil off his butter.

“Tell her to check Tex’s Instagram for pictures."

“I'm not telling her that,” Damon eyed his brother-in-law, now very focused on buttering his dinner roll.

He typed a reply to his sister.

No picture. Just a friendly passenger. Don't get excited.

“Fine,” James said, “I'll tell her”. He pulled out his phone.

Damon snatched it out of his hand, “just eat your dinner.”