“You look like you’re good with computers.” The man in line jabs at me, not a question but a statement.

Huh?

I take in his attire, cargo pants and a t-shirt a shade of beige that should have been left in the 80’s. His dusty blonde hair was past receding, his eyes a little too blue.

I’d always found you find at least one strange person in an airport, it bought out the weirdest parts of people. The way that everyone thinks their own family is strange, and then you see a family together and are reminded they have their own quirks and routines.

“Uh, thanks I guess?” I respond, turning back toward the check-in desk.

“Could I get your passport and boarding pass please sir?” The smiley brunette chirps at me.

Fuck she was stunning, we do not deserve women.

After checking my luggage and papers she lets me go, her eyes and smile lingering on mine a moment longer than necessary, I hold her gaze with a smile, causing her cheeks to heat.

Fucking focus Nate, Jesus.

After grabbing a coffee, I hear a commotion to my left, my head whips to the counter I just stood at. The strange guy screams at the woman at the desk, demanding her to look again. Nothing I hate more than men who think it is acceptable to scream at the creatures who bought us into the fucking world in the first place.

Where the fuck is the security in this place? I abandon my coffee, not in the mood for this snivelling dick. I stride over toward the desk, “Is there a problem here?”

“Yeah, this fucking idiot cannot do her job properly. I told her the passport is new, she’s saying it’s fake.” He spits, his poor dental hygiene invading my personal space.

“The question wasn’t for you.” I retort in his direction.

I turn towards the woman, her shoulders relaxing a little when I push the freak off of the desk and out of her personal space.

“Well I checked three times as he requested but his identification isn’t verified, there’s an issue with his passport, he’s not on any of the databases. I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can do.” She professes, her eyes shooting down, shame in her expression.

“You heard her, take it up with someone else.”

His eyes narrow, his canines flashing as he sneers, “Typical fucking woman, you can never do anything right can you? Fuck this.” He begins to walk away, but my better judgment decides against it. I grab his collar, smashing the front of his body to the desk.

“Apologise.” My voice, nothing short of lead, commands him.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME. WHO ARE YOU TO TOUCH ME LIKE THAT?!” He screams in my direction.

“I’m a man you do not want to piss off today, apologise.”

“Dude I don’t know what you’re on, but I will seriously fuck you up if you don’t let go of me right now!” He screams, wriggling within my grasp.

“No, I don’t think you will. I really wouldn’t want to ask a third time.”

The young woman's eyes flick between the two of us, shock plastered on her pretty face.

“Sir it’s okay, really, there’s no need, he’s just upset.”

I nearly snarl, furious she feels she has to respond with kindness to this piece of shit.

My head whips to her, spotting her name tag I reply, “Anastasia? You seem lovely, but this pathetic excuse of a human does not deserve your pity.” I make my smile warm, ensuring she doesn’t receive the anger currently flooding me.

She opens her mouth to speak, but then simply nods, Jesus, who made her this compliant?

He squirms underneath my hold tirelessly, and with the glance at the long queue forming behind him, i see that he’s ashamed, not of his own behavior though, I’m sure.

He huffs with an enthusiasm I want to bleed from him.

“Fine. I’m fucking sorry alright?” He whispers, his embarrassment evident in his inability to hold eye contact.

“You’re going to try that again and mean it.”

I begin squeezing the back of his neck, pressing on the precise tendon that will cause an extreme amount of pain .

He screeches, everyone in the airport turning towards our direction. To my left I hear keys jangling, a security guard far past his sell-by date, indulging in what suspiciously looks like something stronger than coffee, slouches towards us.

I remove my hand immediately.

“Everythin’ alright here Annie?” The guard asks, his eyes flicking between the three of us, more concerned about what might as well be a flask than those who he is supposed to be protecting.

“Fine, Cliff. Just a misunderstanding.”

“Mhm, dandy.” I insist. “The gentleman here was just apologising for his curt manner.” I turned to the fuckwit beside me, searing his skin with my stare.

His pathetic body hunches in defeat, his face oozing with resignation for the situation.

“I apologise for the way I spoke to you, it wasn’t acceptable. I think I might have my old one anyway, it’s not expired yet.” He speaks with something I would be convinced is sincerity If my hand wasn’t on his neck a few minutes ago.

After watching the two men then scuttle off towards another desk, I return to the lounge, double checking my gate.

Now closing in 15 minutes.

Fucking fantastic.

I dart past an elderly couple, making a mental I owe you to whoever sat above. After boarding the plane, I find my seat, and as it slowly begins to fill I slump with relief that I’m sat alone.

They announce the safety warnings, and the pilot then babbles on about the weather, it was all just noise at this point.

A quiet ding rings and the pilot announces that another passenger is to be let on, to my miss fucking fortune, it was him.

His eyes dart around and if it weren’t for that being his usual behaviour earlier, I would be concerned. He looks at his ticket and then the letters and numbers above the seats. His gaze stops at my row. No. No fucking way.

He reddens when he sees that I’m the one sitting beside him, he hobbles towards me, his eyes looking anywhere but mine. Good.

I have the aisle seat, always do, I like to see what’s going on at all times, “uhm.” He stutters, unable to get his words out,” Would you mind just-“ I don’t fill the sentence for him, or give him any recognition on my face of his presence, he may as well not exist, if he can’t speak for himself, that isn’t my problem, he had no problems speaking earlier.

My 6’6 self gave him no room to move around me, my knees touched the seat in front of me.

“Can I help you sir?” The stewardess asks him, entirely undeserving of her smile.

“No. No thanks. I was just getting to my seat.” He looks at me expectantly.

She nods in acceptance, darting towards her next task.

“So could you budge please dude?” He asks, still unable to hold my eye.

“No, find another fucking seat, in the cargo. Anywhere but next to me.”

His eyes widen, is that surprise? Was my squeezing of his neck, not a clear enough message I can’t stand him?

He mutters something unintelligible, his eyes shooting downward in defeat, he hauls his hand luggage from the floor, trudging off to find a space.

The pilot announces our journey time, listing off some more babble, about the fact this is his last flight before his holiday with his family. I fucking wish. No holiday for me. Work has practically become my holiday, it fills enough of my life, anyway. I don’t mind too much. Keeping my country safe, has its benefits. If I can rid our world of at least one pest, I’m satisfied.

After about an hour in my bladder wins a mental battle, I know it isn’t good but I make a point to never use the restroom on flights, it feels like for even those few minutes I could miss something. Today will have to be that day. I shoot off straight ahead, getting an eyeful of a man’s behind as he picks his kid's toys, fucking Christ couldn’t men grow some and fucking shave down there? It was repulsive, no one should have to go near that. After a few more rows I spot an uncomfortable-looking woman, spaced between two men she clearly didn’t know by the awkwardness in each one of their body languages, and then I look towards her in particular, her body clamped together due to the fucking imbeciles sat each side of her who thought it acceptable to spread their legs to a near 90°.

The one on her left slouched into his seat, immersed in whatever shit was playing on his screen, the one on her right wore a sleazy expression on his face leaning far too right than necessary, impeding the woman’s personal space, fucking pricks.

I was always taught to be subtle, and elusive, to never draw too much attention to myself, but also just enough to blend right in. Sometimes I veer off that course, having to go against my taught instincts.

I place my palm over the man’s screen, his brows drawn in confusion and an angry look on his face as he whips his headphones off, that look quickly diminishes when he locks eyes with me.

“Comfy?” I dart in his direction, entirely rhetorical, I couldnt give two shits how comfortable this guy is.

“Excuse me? Who are you? Is this the airline's uniform nowadays?” He attempts at a joke, an incredulous look on his face, if it were possible given my position above him, he looks down at me, taking in my grey t-shirt and dark blue acid-washed jeans, I was a simple man, and given my work, a subtle one.

“You should want to correct your tone. Are you uncomfortable?” I direct the latter to the lady in the middle, her expression startled when she realises it’s her who I’m talking to.

“Well, I’d prefer more leg room sure.” She says in a sweet tone none of us deserve.

“You heard her, move your fucking legs, have some basic manners, you as well.” I not so lightly tap the shoulder of the guy facing the window, his quick reaction confirming he was indeed listening in.

“Fucking joke.” The guy nearest to me mutters, wow, prick had a death wish.

I survey the area around us finding no staff nearby, lowering myself into a crouch, and the people surrounding us busying themselves with sleep or their families,” What’s your name?” I ask him at a volume only he and I can hear.

He looks puzzled at first, following with,” Who the fuck are you, that’s none of your business.”

I flash a wolfish grin,” You made it my fucking business when you decided to invade this lovely lady's personal space. So I’ll ask you again, what’s your name.” Something in my tone seems to register with him, but instead of compliance, I get panic.

His head darts around quickly, recognising the danger I represent, looking for someone to help him. Fuckwit.

“Look at me.” An unspoken warning resides in my voice and his head snaps to me immediately,” Give me your name.”

He licks his dry lips feverishly, his eyes darting around, not actually looking at anything, biding for time.

“Derek.”

I roll my eyes, my irritation clear on my face. He reads my expression and continues,” James, Derek James.” His eyes snap downward, his eyes flooded with shame.

I smile at the girl in the middle, her expression startled but appreciative. They're lucky I didn’t cut their legs off with the mood I was in currently.