Another Friday, another airport.

There used to be butterflies in her stomach when she walked into any airport, the entrance to adventures like the wardrobe that led to Narnia. Except Narnia turned out to be hotel rooms and office buildings. If she was lucky, it had a view.

She shifted her weight to her left as she waited for her turn at the TSA PreCheck line. As a rule, she booked the same flight home every week. It was clockwork. She's never too late, or too early in the airport. But today, she arrived with a bit of spare time. It must be the nerves.

"Watch out!" She barely registered the warning as she lost balance, hit by the frantic couple's luggage as they made a mad dash to the front of the line. She accepted that she was going to fall, but slowly opened her eyes at the lack of impact.

Someone broke the appropriate social distance guidelines and pulled her up close. Strong, muscular arm and he smelled nice. Mint. Fresh hypoallergenic laundry detergent. This caused her gratitude to come out in a whisper.

"You're welcome," he said distractedly. The person behind him had taken his spot.

"Please, um, feel free to stay here if you're comfortable. We're up next anyway."

She didn't mean to say we. And he could've taken her spot as she moved up. As it were, they went up to security as if they were a party of two.

For a moment, the company made her feel something she hadn't felt in two years. Butterflies. She felt them all over as she placed her carry-on items on the conveyor belt. Then she stole a glance and found him taking off his belt. Spell broken.

This is a deal-breaker because she didn't have time for someone who wore a belt to the airport. If she wanted to be in a committed relationship like the rest of her friends, she only had time for people who were ready to go. She finished with the security checkpoint and briskly walked to her gate. She didn't look back.

~*~

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" The question with humor took her by surprise as she settled in her window seat. She recognized his voice, if not his scent, as he arranged his bag underneath the aisle seat.

The mask hid the fact that her jaw dropped, but if she didn't say anything soon, then she'd give herself away.

"Maybe. But I'm memorable, so probably not." Thank goodness she could still be cute and that there was a crinkle in his eye that let her know he liked it.

"Yes, that is what you're known for," he said. "Ivy Bloom. Most memorable."

Her eyes widened in shock.

With a chuckle, he reminded her of their acquaintance. "MacGrath University. That's where I know you from. Patrick Mac..." He trailed off with a semi-discreet flinch.

"Oh, I see. It's nice to meet you, Patrick Mac. That's a unique name."

"You can call me Mac."

"Thank you again for earlier, Mac."

"Don't mention it. Someone outside mentioned that this is a full flight, so I had to sit here," he said. "Make sure you don't get trampled."

This made her laugh. "Oh, is that so? Well, thank you again again, but I prefer having the row to myself if it turns out the flight isn't full."

"Ditto. So what have you been up to, Ivy? Saving the world one food bank at a time?"

She froze. No one knew about her trips to the food bank except...

Three years ago

Ivy excused herself from the group abruptly and ran to the pantry. One of the interns carelessly damaged boxes of food with his efforts to show off. The inconsiderate flirt. He doesn't know what it's like to receive —

"Hey, are you okay? Here, have some water. Don't let him bother you like that."

She didn't realize that she was prattling on out loud. And that the gates have opened. Ivy talked about the time when she and her family needed relief goods. Leftovers. But even before that, being oblivious to the fact they headed there. Her mother knew and still put together a bag of groceries for her to donate.

All this just as Mac finished his brief on closing this food bank location down. Wise business decision. Somehow feeling worse than the inconsiderate flirt. His conscience nagged at him. He knew all that he needed to do to be that person. One that she wouldn't think of as inconsiderate, or worse, privileged and ungrateful. He started to plot when she asked him for more water.

When he came back with it, she had gone.

~*~

"That was you."

Her statement confirmed to him that up to the present time, she managed to hide her passion to fight world hunger.

"Is that what you do? Rescue people from nervous breakdowns, getting trampled, etcetera."

Mac smiled. "In my spare time, I rescue animals too. I work with various nonprofits."

"Wow, that's the dream, isn't it?"

"Not something I hear often."

"Consultants like to ask each other if we weren't doing what we do, what would we do?"

"Say that five times fast," he joked.

She smiled weakly. She hasn't done that in so long that her muscles must've resisted the movement.

"I always say that I would like to work for a nonprofit. When I retire from consulting, that's what I'd like to do."

"I can see that."

It was four words. 

But that's all she needed to hear. And possibly the only person she needed to hear it from. 

The only person who knew.

They said goodbye to each other after deplaning in MDW. The thing about airports is that everyone else has somewhere else to go. Ivy headed for the ladies' room and didn't look back. It was clockwork.

At the same time, maybe it wasn't.