Unicorn Trail Pt. 01

Author's Note: Please apologize for the slow start. I promise, I will do my best to make it worthwhile.

I sighed heavily as the Uber carrying me and my partner, Emily, whom I met online nearly two years ago and have been with in-person for the past eight months, pulled up to the hospital entrance. We both thanked the driver and I opened the rear passenger door, while the driver popped the trunk so I could grab Emily's duffel. Slinging it over my shoulder with one hand and interlacing the fingers of the other with one of hers, I nudged the car door shut and we walked hand in hand into the hospital, where the receptionist, knowing us by sight at this point, ran through Emily's check-in for her surgery quickly and efficiently.

As we sat down to wait for the doctor, I must have been visibly troubled about going off on an adventure while she was stuck at the hospital and the apartment, because she turned to me, laid her hand on my cheek, and said, "I'm not made of glass, Querido. Go, have fun. You've worked so hard, and plus, I can still sit on my fluffy ass and do my job just fine." As a remote customer service rep, this last part was certainly true. "Alright, as long as you're absolutely sure." Suddenly, she pulled me to her in a big hug and whispered, "You are a doofus, you know that?", before sucking on my neck in a way that, had I been prone to them, would have left a hickey. My attempts to return the favor, specifically the noise I made doing so, almost drowned out her next words: "Maybe by the time you hit the Virginia border, I can send you an 'after' pic without bandages." The soft "oooh!" that came out of my mouth made her giggle like a child, one of her most endearing qualities.

The doctor, who also knew us both fairly well by this point, emerged and waited patiently for us to come up for air. "Take good care of her, Doc," I said, getting up to shake his hand. "I will, John, don't worry." He'd said many times how he admired my dedication and my compassion, and it was in his eyes when he looked at me. When I walked over to Emily, she was already on her feet, her pink dress and her hiking boots rather out of place with each other. "Bye, Emmy," I said and gave her a passionate kiss, which she returned with just as much passion before she broke apart and said, "Go, before you miss your flight, dummkopf*!" I chuckled, as my flight wasn't for another four hours, before letting out a short, sharp, "hey!" when she slapped my decidedly non-existent derrierre.

(*"Dummkopf" is German for "dunderhead" or "fool.")

"Brat," I muttered, to which Emmy responded with a stuck-out tongue as I extricated myself from her presence and exited the hospital. Not really feeling like getting straight back into a car right now, I walked in the general direction of our apartment. I'd barely gotten a block from the hospital when Emily texted me: If you find a Padawan, use that fancy droid you bought to send me a hologram. Rough translation: if I meet a beautiful woman who may or may not end up being our 'third' (did I mention that from fairly early on, we both discovered we were polyamorous, and had wanted a third ever since?), use the sat-phone attachment I bought for my smartphone to send her a picture. Or twenty.

Even though the hospital was no more than a quarter-hour's walk away from our apartment on a bad day, we had decided to take an Uber to the hospital, as Emily had trouble moving around. She was having surgery to reduce the size of what were, for better or worse, overlarge breasts. This, in turn, would reduce the weight on her back and the rest of her body, and would thus make it easier to move around. Part of the process would also involve some liposuction, so the combination would go a long way towards improving her physical health.

I didn't notice a young brunette woman climbing into an airport taxi across the street from where I was deep in thought about the upcoming trip. Nor did I notice she tossed a rucksack into the trunk with hiking poles strapped to the sides and a sleeping bag slung underneath.

As deep in thought as I was, I hardly noticed that I'd walked all the way back to the apartment. Chuckling, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door, before heading inside and taking one last look around, to make sure I had everything. I was planning to fly from Pittsburgh International Airport to Nashville, Tennessee, and use a myriad of trails to hike back within two to three months. One of the things I was taking with me was a BB pistol. I figured if there were any small animals that took too strong an interest in my foodstuffs, I could use the BB gun to, hopefully, scare them off by shooting near them. I also tracked down a store in Nashville where I could buy bear spray, if needs be. Rounding out the bag's contents were a US Marine Corps-styled KA-BAR knife--one of my more esoteric purchases from the surplus store near where I used to live--and a holster for my BB gun.

The BB gun, as well as five Co2 cartridges and a flat, pocket-sized bottle of metal BB's, were locked in a hard-sided case. Even though it wasn't necessary to declare it, as it was not an actual firearm, I still treated it as if it were, and would put it in a duffel bag along with a few other items I planned to attach to the rucksack when I arrived at my destination, including a detachable hydration pouch, hiking poles, and a sleeping bag. Hoisting the two bags, after grabbing a small fanny pack with a water bottle holder attached, I made my way down to the street, where I called an airport taxi.

When one pulled up to the curb, I put my things in the trunk and hopped in the back seat. I didn't really feel much like small talk, so I rode in silence until we reached the airport, where I thanked the driver and went inside. Immediately, I noticed a young woman who seemed to be having some trouble at the check-in counter. My job, as it turned out, was with one of the companies that contracted out to the major airlines, and I was one of the ticket counter agents.

The young man who was behind the counter seemed to have some difficulty with the woman's ticket. "I told you, my confirmation number is 055238769!", she shouted, as if he was the world's biggest idiot. Barely registering that she had a rucksack very similar to mine at her feet, complete with hiking poles and sleeping bag attached, I came to the rescue of both the hapless ticket agent and the irate customer.

"Hey, Barry," I said, recognizing the man behind the counter as one of my coworkers, who'd started several weeks after I did, "mind if I take a crack at it?" With palpable relief, he said, "Be my guest." I stepped behind the counter and realized the problem.

"Dude, seriously? That's not her passport number she's giving you." Turning towards the woman, I smiled and said, "Normally, this is my job, you see," by way of explanation, "but my coworker here seems to need another coffee. You aren't going international, I presume?" Something about my demeanor must have calmed her down, because she shook her head and said, the picture of serenity and grace, "Nope, just down to Nashville. Takin' the scenic route home."

Nodding, I typed the confirmation number in the correct field, this time, noticing that the woman had a beautiful, melodic voice, and when her flight info came up, I smiled and said, "Okay, Miss Jacobs, just need your ID and you're all set! It looks like you're gonna be on the same flight as I am." I motioned towards our bags. "I got all of that extra stuff that I'm gonna stick on the outside of my pack in a duffel bag, but there's room for yours, if you wanna share?" She considered for a moment, and her bright blue eyes crinkled as she grinned and said, "Sure, why not? But first, I wanna ask you something."

"Sure," I said automatically.

"What's your name, Mr. Handsome-Off-Duty-Ticket-Agent? My name's Alice, but you probably already know that!"

Unused to being called 'handsome,' I probably blushed as I responded, "Name on my airport badge is John Stephens."

"Well, it's nice to meet 'cha, John," Alice said, her voice sounding much more cheerful and chipper than when she was shouting at Barry.

For the first time, I really looked at her, and several things stood out.

First and foremost, she wasn't wearing a bra under her white Rolling Stones T-shirt.

Second, her nipples were pierced.

Third, her arms were covered in a generous amount of hair.

Fourth, her face and neck were covered in freckles.

And finally, she was wearing jeans that looked like they were painted on.

The combination of these factors had a profound effect upon me. It was good that I stepped out from behind the counter only to unlock the luggage lock on my duffel, bend down to unzip it and then straighten up before stepping back behind it to watch Alice arrange her sleeping bag and hiking poles in my duffel bag. Otherwise, she might have noticed the semi that I was sporting in my khaki shorts.

After Alice presented her ID and her boarding pass was printed, I took the liberty of entering my own confirmation number while I was still behind the counter, since I was familiar with the system and this wasn't exactly against regulations. I stepped back out once my bag was zipped back up and both Alice and I turned them over to Barry to be sent back to where they would be checked before being loaded onto the plane.

"Thank you so much," Alice practically gushed as we made our way to the security checkpoint. I waved my hand and said, "Ah, it's nothing." Thankfully, I'd had the presence of mind to unclip a small knife and a small canister of pepper spray from where I usually carried them and placed them in the duffel bag before leaving the apartment. Otherwise, being this close to a woman this beautiful might've caused me to accidentally leave them on me, which, of course, would have caused the TSA agents to act like they caught the next bin Laden when they found them.

"He's newer than I am," I said, out of loyalty to my coworker. "Maybe he was distracted," I added over my shoulder as I went through the checkpoint ahead of Alice.

"Oh? By what?", she challenged; thankfully, I was able to pass through without incident and picked up my fanny pack and Merrell hiking boots from the conveyor belt and proceeded to put them back on.

"Probably by how beautiful you are," I blurted out without thinking. Normally, I wouldn't have been nearly as forward, but in the time that Emily and I were together, really together in person, she went a long way towards helping me get out of my shell, so to speak.

"Really?", Alice said thoughtfully, as the TSA officers seemed to get hung up on her pierced nipples. Probably think they're micro-bombs or some shit, I thought to myself. Thankfully, they seemed to accept her explanation for the "mysterious" metal objects on her chest, and she joined me off to the side to pull her shoes back on, which, now I looked at them properly, were hiking boots of comparable quality to mine.

"Yep," I said.

"Then why were you able to put it in the right spot?" A ghost of a wink crossed her features. Was she trying to make a double entendre?

"I guess I'm better at being calm under pressure," I responded, deciding not to try to rack my brain for a suitably dirty-sounding response and just tell the truth.

Alice seemed to be satisfied with that response, and pulled her boarding pass from her own fanny pack. "Row 20, seat A," she read off of it. Pulling out mine, I smirked and said, "Row 20, seat B." Remembering from the seating chart that A was the window seat, I said, "Tell you what. Each time either of us gets up, we switch, if you want." Nodding, Alice said, "Deal!" The way her curly brown hair bobbed up and down as she nodded was fucking adorable.

"Awesome. Wanna grab something to eat?" While I wasn't really gonna spend a lot of money when I got on the trail, I had set aside more than enough to treat myself while I was traveling to Nashville. Both of us spotted the Panda Express at the same time, and when we looked at each other, we both knew that's where we were going.

To Be Continued..