Actions

Work Header

Who? Us? Married?

Work Text:

The long trip:

Hours droned on and on and the flight, as fun as Devon had made it sound, was actually increasingly and maddeningly boring.

Michael had fallen asleep and in his slumber, he failed to notice that his head had come to rest on Bonnie’s shoulder. His nose pressed against the smooth skin of her neck and she was only roused from her light slumber when the warmth of his breath began to tickle her. Laughingly, the groggy mechanic shrugged him off and without waking him, she pushed him back into his own seat.

Pressing her head of brunette hair back into her own headrest she bit back a slightly amuse chuckle at the sight of Michael still slumbering as if nothing had happened. Shaking her head from side to side in momentary disapproval she found herself slowly nodding back to sleep.

Her heavily weighted eye lids fluttered closed as she readjusted her position in the stiff and uncomfortable chair. She once more entered in a peaceful rest.

A warm burden found it’s way over her chest and she was pulled by some force out of her comfortable position into a peculiarly frustrating new one. The burden over her chest vanished, only to be replaced by new ones around her waist.

Poking her eyes open she hazarded a look around the cabin of the plane. Bonnie felt herself stiffen as she noticed Michael’s arms were securely clasped around her middle. Alarm and surprise coiled through her veins as she furthermore discovered that she perilously perched between her chair and Michael’s. His forehead pressed against the slope of her shoulder and his nose buried into the cushion of her chest.

A heated red blush appeared in her high and elegant cheekbones as she tried to wriggle her way free of his grasp.

"Mi…Michael? Le…let….go… your suf…suffocating….me." Bonnie stammered as her palm pressed against his sturdy shoulders. Her pleas were met only by the sound of Michael’s peaceful snoring. He was resting comfortably as she was straining most of her muscles to break free of his grasp.

"MI..MICHAEL!" She hissed as loudly as she dared to let her voice swell, for Devon was engrossed in an important phone call in the seat directly in front of them.

A loud snore rang through her ear nearest Michael’s mouth and she winced. As lovely as it was, being drawn into his arms and used as a pillow, this was getting ridiculous. Her muscles were throbbing from the pressure of the arm-rest and the seat-belt digging into her well covered side.

Frantically, her arm reached backwards for the glass of ice-water on her tray. She had tried just about everything else and nothing seemed to give.

"I’m sorry, Michael," she mumbled in apology before she splashed the contents all over her sleeping co-worker. The cold liquid seemed to work it’s magic as her poodle-permed co-worker sprang up in his seat and she was quickly released from his grasp. The mechanic fumbled backwards into the comfort of her own seat.

"B…Bonnie?" He stammered in confusion, as he tried to dig several ice-cubes out of his somewhat soaked black shirt. His blue-eyes rounding curiously, as he noticed the way she was rubbing her side and glowering at him.

"Yes, Michael?" She tiredly returned, with a nonchalant air.

"Did you just…. pour that cup of water on me?" He prompted, pulling the wet fabric off of his skin and waving it about; as if it by doing so, he could make it dry faster.

"Yes, I did," Bonnie sighed.

"Why?" The irate man demanded.

"Because you were suffocating me in your sleep and trying to pull me into your chair. I’ve got the indents to prove it," she mumbled. Naturally, she was talking about the brand of the seat-belt and armrest that had imprinted upon her skin.

"W…what? Are…are yo..you talking about?" The curly haired man questioned, his thick brows furrowing in confusion.

The uncomfortable man beside Michael interjected, “how long have you two been married?”

"Mar….married?" Came the laughter laced reply of both co-workers in an unplanned simultaneous chorus.

"Yeah, married," the stranger beside the window insisted.

Bonnie’s face turned a bright red and she sank back into her chair.

Michael’s face held a beaming but nervous grin as he tried to explain,”You see, we …we aren’t exactly… married.”

The nosy stranger remarked, ‘I figured the way you two were cuddling and sleeping together…. that you had to be married.” His voice was a little louder than Bonnie would have liked it to be, for Devon, who had finished his phone conversation, promptly turned around in his seat. His eyebrows arched as he studied his employee’s carefully.

"What in bloody blue blazes is all this commotion about marriage?" Came the silver-haired Englishman’s thick accented words.

Michael and Bonnie exchanged glances for a brief moment. Each one at an equal loss for words. However, the man beside them quickly rushed to answer Devon’s question.

"I’ve never seen a more affectionate couple… they were sleeping together… and…" the man explained, not having any of the slightest idea how terrible his implication sounded.

Bonnie’s gaze averted, she slid lower into her seat, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Michael, likewise, crossed his arms over his chest and sank back into his seat.

"Oh? Is that so?" Devon goaded in extreme amusement, as he continued to fixate his gaze on his employees.

"Michael? Might I ask, dear boy, why is your shirt all wet?" Devon further questioned, as he tried to put the mysterious puzzle of his employees peculiar behavior together.

"We hit a patch of unexpected turbulence and my drink slipped from my hands," Michael fibbed with a regally sassy air.

"I see, well do be more careful, Michael," the silver haired man warned with a sly grin.

"And Bonnie? You don’t look so well. Do you need anything?" He questioned with a tone of sincerity and concern.

"I’m fine, Mr. Miles," she mumbled politely.