Come On Join the Joyride

Posted on Wed Jan 15th, 2025 @ 1:55am by Commander Dean House & Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell

Mission: Character Development
Location: Earth - Washington DC
Timeline: Pre-Lost in Space

Dean rolled his shoulder a little bit as he looked at the completely decrepit and falling apart hanger. At least, that's what it was from the outside. He didn't know that the inside was all up to date and well oiled machine.

Stepping closer, he gave a look back to Bonnie-kin to see if she was still coming. Actually, nope, he kept going. Slipping through the half-open doors. That is when he froze.

Paranoid and walking with fast moving, scooting feet in order to keep up with Dean, she kept looking over her shoulder expecting someone was following them. He slipped through the doors and she panicked, "We're not supposed to be here." Her voice was hushed and filled with worry.

"Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble." She added as she too tried to slip through the doors, her dress making it difficult to bend and twist. This particular building had always been off limits to her according to her papa. He said it was full of old, not very interesting stuff anyway. And until now she had headed his warning.

Through the door, she was brushing off any dust or dirt absently when she walked up next to Dean and wondered why he had stopped. She saddled up next to him, holding his arm in case he decided to bolt and leave her here. Her eyes looked into his face and then attempted to follow his gaze, "What, what are we looking at?" She asked.

"What are we looking at? Really." Motioning out in front of them at the apparent plane collection. Not to mention all of the memorabilia from the same 20th century era. "This is a friggin treasure trove." Dean stepped in a little more, resting a hand on hers a moment.

The gentle touch sent an unexpected shiver up her arm, briefly taking away her worried paranoia. As soon as he pulled it away the feeling came back. "Okay? So a bunch of rusty old planes is your idea of a treasure trove. Cool, now can we go before we get into trouble?" She was too worried to notice how excited Dean looked, his intentions yet unclear.

"Absolutely not!" Dean stepped in further, pointing specifically at a P-40 Kittyhawk. A World War 2 fighter/bomber that helped win the war in the air, along with the P-51 Mustang. "I mean look at that! It's even got white angel wings on the underside of her wings." Turning around walking backwards, "How can you not appreciate these?"

She followed his steps, staying close for multiple reasons, not the least of which, she was trying to see what he saw in the old planes. She marveled in his excitement without thinking about it, and a small smile found its way to her face. "I mean sure, they're kind of neat. It's a wonder they ever flew without computerized controls, I guess." She had to admit to herself this wasn't her cup of hot chocolate.

Letting go of her arm, he moved to run a hand along the fuselage and then the wing. "What do you mean a wonder? Mechanical controls, nuts bolts, pins, bars..." Dean listed off a few other things, coming to a stop back where he started. "I wonder if there's fuel."

The moment he let go, her arms crossed like she was protecting herself. "Well, sure the mechanical nature was interesting. I mean, they stayed in the air for hours, no shields, no computer, and no fusion reactor."

She paused for a moment as what he said finally clicked, "Wait... what do mean fuel?" She was whispering loudly, "You're not thinking of trying to fly one of these? No, no way." She was vigorously shaking her head.

"Damn right that's what I was thinking of. Why not? Won't these just sit here and rust otherwise, or if nothing else, at least one more time for him. Then we can get them submitted to the Smithsonian." Tilting his head a little bit, "Come on..." Holding his hand out.

She started to put her hand in his, then pulled back. But then an unknown force seemed to override her common sense and good judgment as she reached out and took his hand again. Trust was now fully on him to uphold. "Oh, this is a really bad idea!" She proclaimed.

Dean's fingers curled around hers with a little tug towards the plane. "Have you been in any of these before? Perhaps with your Father when you were little?"

"Not that I remember, and I feel I would remember these. Papa was an artifact man, always on about relics and dusty old things. He cared about my safety." She said pointedly at Dean as if to say 'if you wish to honor him I suggest you do the same.' Was it curiosity which pulled her or stupidity she wondered.

There was an eyebrow raised, "Promise I won't hurt any of them, or you. I'll keep you safe." Dean was still going to get her up there in it. "Got you here safe didn't I," Yes, it was a collaborative effort with the Transwarp Beaming, he fully knew that it wasn't just him. "I'll let you fly once we're up if you want. I'll have hands on the controls the whole time also."

She gasped and then smacked him on the chest for his choice of words. Putting the planes' concern first, she knew he was baiting her. "You got me here safe? That's funny." Then she thought about the idea of flying the plane and cringed. "You want me to fly? How long have you known me? Besides, since when have you known how to fly these antiques?" She rolled her eyes, "Not even antiques, relics." Every fiber of her instincts was saying no, yet she allowed him to tug her along as he looked for a fuel canister or tank.

"Always have, no one asked and it never came up." Giving a little shrug. "I bet the tank is outside so there should be a tug tractor around here somewhere to pull the plane out."

She followed absently looking around the hangar at the various planes in their various states of disrepair. It got her thinking, "You know, my Papa didn't care much for things like this, but my Mom would have been elbow deep, itching to see what made them work. She was a mechanic on the Saratoga, did you know?"

When Bonnie came back to reality and looked around, she could not seen Dean or where he had suddenly gone to. "Dean." She whispered loudly. "Where are you?"

"I'm over around the corner!" Pulling a tarp off of the tug. "What do you mean he didn't care about things like this. These are hers? And yes, I did know she was."

Flustered, she quickly moved to join him eager to maintain a close proximity should they be caught. "No, these belong to the museum. He was the curator, bu his focus was ancient artifacts, not, well, relics of a bygone era." She quickly realized they could be conceived as one in the same, but she understood the difference.

"And I didn't know I had already told you about my Mum, sorry." Absently she moved to start helping him with the cover, not really focused on what he was still trying to do.

Dean smiled a little bit, getting up into the vehicle, "Yes, they do belong in a museum, Doctor Jones." Smirking, "Security, remember. You do have information on file."

"Oh." Realization dawned as she started to climb into the plane behind him absently. "Wait, no fair, you went through my files? What else did they say about me?" She stopped at the top of the ladder, now almost face to face with him, at least eye to eye.

"I'm kinda suppose to for all crew members. It's the same as the personnel files you read when getting a new department member." Looking to her. Switching on the power systems so he can then get out again and use the tug so the plane can be pulled out of the hanger and fueled.

She watched his strapping durable body hit the ground with a thud before following him down using the ladder where she continued. "I just recently became a Lieutenant Commander so I'm still getting used to personnel files and such. Mostly I just look through them for fun, you know to see who has a matching personality type?"

She ducked under the plane, following him about as he set to work with the tug. "I guess I never thought about you having to know the ins and outs of everyone on board. Must be time consuming?" She asked, taking an interest in the work. She absently handed him the fuel hose he was pointing at. Maybe it was the wine but her head was feeling fuzzy.

Dean of course, even if she wasn't admiring, he was her form, but he kinda did sometimes anyway. Trying to decide if he could get away with teasing her looking, even if it was just watching where he was going.

"Thank you," hooking the hose up, securing it. Turning around to turn the pump on and watch the gauge. "To be honest, it's not fun at all. I don't mind the time, it keeps me busy. It's knowing and remembering what is in everyone's files that is annoying." Reaching up with two fingers to tap the side of his head.

"Annoying? I like remembering facts, though I can see where it would get tedious after a while." Curiously she asked, "You're not having memory issues are you? I'm sure there is something Sarah could offer you, she's good like that." She was oblivious to the idea he may be 'checking her out' and continued to focus instead on his words.

It wasn't like he hadn't before. Dean didn't figure it a big deal even if she had noticed. "It's the the facts, it's knowing certain things in them that isn't suppose to be repeated. I guess it's the same with Doctors and Therapists." Cutting the hose off and disconnecting it. "Alright then, smart ass."

Her hand went straight to her hip as she stood there clearly taken aback. "Smart ass? I wasn't... I didn't... I mean I was just trying to be helpful but fine! Harumph." She frowned, clearly flustered by his words. Up until this point she was just trying to carry on conversation but if he was going to start picking on her she could pick back.

"I thought your genetic makeup was, you know, enhanced is all. I don't know what all that entails, you've never really said." She half apologized. There was a slight clattering noise coming from a shelf in the hangar which caught her off guard and she froze, still scared to get caught.

"You are entirely to cute when you get flustered and then try to wiggle out of it." Giving her a wink as he climbed back up on the hatch ladder. Holding his hand out for her. "It essentially means, I am about as perfect as you can get physically, and mentally. Mentally as in, memory, recall ability, like that." Narrowing his eyes just a little playfully, "I know where you were going to go with that if I hadn't elaborated."

Dean's hand stopped when he heard the sound. "Who else comes around here," said quietly.

From the shadow of another plane nearby, walked a small furry mammal. It was black with white spots in sections and it's tail was scruffy. "Awe, it was just a cat." Bonnie said, relaxing her stance at was clearly not a threat. She turned and looked up at Dean, her head dizzy from the sudden motion. "Oof, I should not have drank so much." It was only one glass.

She then started to climb the ladder, which on the P-40 and P-51 was slightly behind the wing. Dean was in the pilots seat meaning she would have to scooch across the wing bare footed before hiking her dress in order to slide down into the second seat. She stepped on the wing slowly, carefully. "Don't look." She said sternly.

Then as she hiked her dress to give her legs freedom of movement she muttered, "I can't believe I'm about to do this. We are going to be in soooo much trouble." She then stepped over one leg and then the other and sort of fell into the seat with an "oof."

"Of course it's a cat." Shaking his head a little bit. Looking forwards, "I'm not looking." Once he heard the Oof, he reached up to slide the cockpit canopy closed. "You were never here, it was just all me." Dean smiled.

She shifted and struggled to maneuver herself into a sitting position where she could put the straps around her. One side was clearly weathered and old. The other was holding together by a string. Sighing she tried to snap the buckle piece together only to find it rusty and difficult to twist. She mumbled, "Starting to wish that were true." It was only when the engine puttered to life that reality of the situation suddenly struck her chest creating knots in her stomach.

"I heard that." He was just about to pull the choke out and start the plane when he paused. "You don't have to do this you know that right. I mean I'm still going to," Bonnie could see his grin in the rearview mirror in front of Dean off to the right.

She smiled back, sarcastically, "Oh no, you've got me here now. Too late to try and make me the bad guy." She waved him on, whether or not he could see the motion. "Just get on with it and if something goes wrong I call dibs on the I told you so's."

"What would go wrong? Besides, I can just have the plane and us beamed to a different safe location." Dean was still all grins. Firing up the engine. Pushing the throttle enough to start to taxi them out to what one could guess to call a runway?

"You get to take us off. There's the throttle to your left, you want to push that all the way forward. Take hold of the stick between your legs. Put your feet on the pedals. Use your heels on the pedals to disengage the brakes. Once we're going, and you feel the plane start to 'float' pull back on the stick. Not to hard, slowly."

She froze, "You want ME to do what with the what? No, no ungh-uh, no, not going to happen." Bonnie was shaking her head vigorously. I don't know how to fly this thing. I barely trust that YOU know how to fly this thing." Her heart was racing and she felt like the cockpit was closing in. "It's getting hot in here, do you feel that?"

"Okay, okay, okay.." he gave a little bit of a chuckle. Switching his focus back to what he just told her to do. Taxing to the 'runway' as it were. "No, it's not particularly hot in here. You're safe with me in this, promise."

She returned his chuckle with a half-hearted grin, "For some reason, that's not really helping." With the engine humming, the plane was loud, making conversation difficult. The 'runway' was barely there, mostly just a flat open field. Everything felt, bumpy, as they rolled across the ground, the suspension system barely absorbing any of the impacts. Bonnie could feel her body vibrating along with the plane, which did not do her anxiety any favors.

"Here, We, Go!" Dean was actually laughing as he pulled back on the stick. Lifting the plane up into the air. Despite, all of the what was bullshit for a runway, they were up. "I want you to do something. Close your eyes. Tell me when you have."

They were already closed. The moment he pulled back on the stick and the g-forces hit her chest, she tensed up her entire body and was gripping the seat for strength. It was unlike a shuttle which compensated with inertial dampeners and such. Her breathing was slow, heavy. "Yep, uh huh!" She replied quickly.

Dean knew what it probably felt like for her, but at the same time he knew another thing. Once they actually hit the air and leveled out that she'd be able to feel that real feeling of flying.

Left wondering why he wanted her to close her eyes, she was struggling to relax over the noise and g-forces pressing against her. The act of closing her eyes was at least helping her not to see how slowly they were really traveling, or how high. In this moment she was placing more than a fair share of trust in Dean.

"You can open them again." They were just 'floating' as it were at this point. Having reaching a pleasant cruising altitude. The Earth below them just passing by slowly.

She did as he asked, slowly opening and taking in their surroundings. The clouds wizzed by like wet cotton candy just beyond reach. It was somewhere past mid-day approaching on evening and the low sun appeared behind the plane illuminating everything in front of them. If they continued further East they would be out over the water before long. Assuming the local patrols hadn't been alerted yet.

Her stomach still churning, from fear or alcohol, she asked, "So, now what?"

"So...now we just float at the moment and enjoy it."

That, was something she could do. She started by taking a deep relaxing breath to release the tension build up in her body. The plane was loud and sounded nothing like a shuttle in it's smooth efficiencies. But, they were currently flying, not falling, which was a miracle in and of itself.

Other than he really wanted to fly it, well all the others, he'd just wanted her to get to do this and relax, all of his teasing aside.

The longer they flew, the more accustomed to the feeling she became. And everything was fine, at least that's what she told herself. And then there were sirens. Not from within, but outside the plane. And then a bullhorn voice barking orders. The local yokels had spotted a UFO and they were now going to be in big trouble. She was no longer relaxed.

TBC