Eight hours later.
"I hope this one doesn't end in the same disaster…" Derek muttered as he and Tristan walked down the airport to their destination.
The manager clearly didn't want to be heard. Even if Tristan's sharp ears missed his words, it was hard to miss Derek's anxiety.
"Oh, c'mon. What are the chances that two planes will crash—or emergency land—within eight hours? Two planes that both have us in them?"
Tristan's tone was intentionally joking. He snorted.
"But seriously. I think we are out of bad karma right now, Derek. You aren't suggesting we cross two states in a car, no? This would take forever."
Derek put a hand over his chest and his yet another obnoxious tie. This one had kittens playing with yarn on it.
Tristan had noticed that Derek wore it only in the most stressful of days.
"Of course not. At least by buying tickets to a regular charter plane, we will get to Los Angeles in time, Mr. Gemello."
