"You're really full of yourself, aren't you?" Anne snaps, running her hands over his chest and pulling him closer. His lips break from their place on her neck and he draws back, flashing a cocksure grin at her.

"I could make the same argument for you, Anne-girl," he breathes. She shakes her head and leans back, putting some space between them.

"Really? Me? You barely even know me," she responds hotly. It only seems to spur him on and he grabs once more at her chin, his lips crashing into hers and drawing the air from her lungs. They push and pull, fighting to gain the upper hand as their fingers slip buttons loose and slide waistbands down past their hips.

"Can you believe the flight is delayed again?" A voice grinds out, gravelly as though they smoke five packs a day. It makes Anne freeze in her state of undress, her hands gripping Gilbert's shoulders as he slows his nibble at her neck. "I swear, if we don't get out of this airport soon I am going to take over an airplane and fly my ass home direct!"

"There's someone here," Anne whispers in his ear. He chuckles and nips at her lobe, his hand sliding boldly down her hip.

"I couldn't tell," he replies sarcastically, anticipating her slap and grabbing her wrist before it can make contact. "If you do that she'll definitely hear you. Do you want to get found or do you want to get fucked?"

His words make her skin flush, the red rising from her chest and spreading up to the tips of her ears. Did she want this? Sure, he was good-looking, not married (she'd checked), and generally intelligent, but they were complete strangers in an airport killing time between their connections.

They'd met in the security line when he'd handed her back her dropped earphones, his warm smile and casual conversation easy to fall into as the wait progressed. After they'd cleared the metal detectors he'd hovered to wait for her, falling into step beside her as she headed towards the first bar she could find to pass the time. Since then they'd flirted, had somehow connected with stories of home, and found their hands leaving tentative touches that progressively became bolder. Whose idea it was to stumble into the women's washroom together she wasn't quite sure but it had happened and now she was here, poised to decide who she wanted to be. Was she really that kind of person who fucked random men in airports?

"Eh?" He prods as his hands tighten their grip on her sides. She looks up at him and his expression softens, a moment of uncertainty flashing across his features. "It's okay," he adds, releasing her and taking a step back. She could swear he just heard her thoughts, his own hesitation blooming over his face as the sink starts to run.

"You know I ain't buying those overpriced drinks - no, I know! I need to…" The voice starts to fade away as the woman leaves, the only sound left in the small stall that of their heavy breaths filling the air.

"I'm sorry, this was completely inappropriate of me," Gilbert says lowly, dragging his pants up and fighting with closing them over his pronounced bulge.

"She's gone though," Anne says after a moment, glancing up at him through her lashes. She takes the leap and hopes, prays, he's there with her. She was going to do this. She was too riled up not to and the fact that he'd backed off, had given her that moment to think it through, was the true selling point. She had the autonomy and goddamn she was going to take it. "I'm in if you are."

He stares at her as though he can see right through her, his dark eyes flickering in the low light. If he doesn't make up his mind soon they were both going to miss their flight. With steady hands she makes the decision and slips her fingers into the waistband of his boxerbriefs, yanking him back towards her.

It only takes him a second to catch up, his hands sliding her panties down her legs as his fingers move to the crux of her legs. Boldly, he runs his fingers along her slit and watches as her eyes light up at his touch. Not one to be left behind, Anne pulls him free of his restraint and nearly groans at the weight of him in her hand.

"Was that a pun?" He rumbles as she moves her hand over his length, rolling on a condom as she draws him closer. His hands mirror hers and he slides a finger inside her, her legs shaking as he spreads her wetness through her folds.

"What - what do you mean?" She replies weakly, skin pebbling with gooseflesh at his touch. He sees the change in her and he grins, trapping her against the wall and lifting her so that she has to wrap her legs around his hips to stop from falling. It's more erotic than anything she's ever experienced and her brain shorts out as he chuckles.

"Am I in?" He breathes and in the next second he's pushing himself inside of her, his thrust making her yelp.

Surprised, turned on, insane, Anne slaps her hand over her mouth at the sound that she emits and groans at the feel of him moving into her. When she's finally able to breathe again she releases her hand and rests her head on his shoulder, her arms clinging tightly to him as he slowly drives her crazy. Where did this guy even come from? Was this what he did on Tuesday's? Jesus.

"Tell me what you like," he instructs as his body thrusts into hers, deeper than most and more steady than any boy she's bedded since university. How could he string a sentence together when it felt so good?

"This," she replies lamely, rolling her hips and mewling as his hands grasp tightly at her rear. "That," she continues and pauses only when he sighs with contentment.

"How about this?" He asks and captures her lips with his, one hand moving to palm her breast and tweak her nipple. She nearly passes out then, her hand reaching out to steady herself with the stall wall. Gilbert only continues his efforts, increasing his pace with a heady grunt.

She can feel herself getting close as his hands work magic, his lips breaking from her own as his breathing starts to turn to pants. With her ankles locked behind his lower back she closes her eyes and tries to get lost in the feel of him sliding in and out of her with a quickened pace.

"I'm almost there," she hisses into his shoulder. It seems to urge him on, his body stepping infinitely closer until they're fully connected. Her skin burns as he starts to hammer into her, his hips slapping against hers as he pushes deeper, drives harder.

"You feel so fucking good, Anne-girl," he gasps and his staccato moves become erratic. Her hands hold tightly to his neck, his back, and she bites into his shoulder as she starts to come undone. "Oh Jesus," he groans and with a final jolt he finishes inside of her, his whole body taunt as she holds him flush against her.

There's a moment of silence between them as the intercom overhead sounds out, leaving them to listen to tinny voices and their own heavy breathing as they slowly come down from their frantic coupling. Anne is the first to come back to reality as she slides her legs slowly down to the ground, disentangling herself.

"That was..." She starts, glancing up at him with a guarded look. He stares back at her with confusion in his gaze before he leans towards her once more and lifts a hand slowly to her chin. Before she puts the pieces together he's kissing her again, though this time it's slow, cautious, and oh so much more than she can catalogue in this haze.

"Yes - it was," he affirms when he eventually pulls away. His hands slowly start to close the buttons of her blouse, his own clothes abandoned as he locks his gaze on her face.

"We should probably get to our gates for our flights - when did you say yours was again?" Anne asks brightly to break the spell, stepping into her pants and leaning down to drag them back up her legs. He follows suit, tucking in his shirt and looking wholly more put together than she did in just a few seconds.

"Nine, I think, I have to check the board again," he replies and returns to helping her realign herself, his hands brushing her red locks back into her bun. She can't help but think how bizarre it is that he's still here and hasn't just bolted from the stall now that they'd both gotten what they wanted.

"Ah, okay," she mumbles and abruptly reaches for her bags, her hands quick to turn the lock so that she can stumble out of the stall. "Gil," she warns as he crashes into her back, the janitor standing with her arms crossed before them.

"Oh!" He gasps, resting his hand on her shoulder quickly. "My wife - she sometimes needs assistance and we couldn't find the family bathroom."

"Mhmm," the woman sighs, nodding her head and dismissing them. They take off at a quick clip, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as they stumble down the concourse to hastily get away.

"Hey - wait up," Gilbert calls as his hand reaches out for hers, drawing her away from the moving walkway and towards a gate posting board.

"My gate is A23 which is like, seven years away by foot," Anne grumbles, shifting her bag further up on her shoulder.

"Same. Want me to take your bag? I figure some chivalry always goes a long way in getting a callback from an airport hook-up," he jokes, reaching out for the strap of her bag. She scowls at him and walks away, trying to put distance between them. "Hey - where are you going?"

"To my gate. Thanks for the good time but there won't be any callbacks. We don't even live in the same place, isn't that the beauty of this?" She replies as she continues to walk away, looking back over her shoulder. He stands frozen to the spot, silent and watching as she disappears around a corner and out of sight.

Her plane gets in almost an hour late, the sky dark as she disembarks and heads towards the terminal. Grabbing her bags from the trolley, she beelines for the pickup area to look for her marked ride. She finds it in the corner of the lot, shoving her bags in the trunk before climbing into the backseat.

"How long to the camp?" She asks the driver, adjusting the timezone on her watch.

"About an hour. We're just waiting on one more passenger," he answers and checks his phone. Anne does the same, sending a quick message home to let Marilla know she'd arrived safely.

"Man, am I glad to see you!" A familiar voice calls through the passenger window. Anne's head snaps up abruptly as she sees Gilbert-from-the-Airport looking towards the driver with a wide smile on his face. "Let me just put my stuff - " He freezes as his gaze lands on hers, shock hitting him head on.

Gilbert doesn't finish his sentence. He puts his gear in the back and then climbs into the backseat beside her, his head swivelling in her direction more than she'd care to admit. What were the fucking chances? What the hell was he doing here?

"Hi there - I'm Doctor Blythe," he eventually says, reaching out his hand towards her. She takes it slowly, swallowing back her instinctual quips and settling on something a touch more professional.

"Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. What are you doing here?" With a laugh he rubs his face and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest.

"I could ask you the same thing, although I'm pretty sure we both understand what my role is here. What's yours?" She takes the question like an affront and crosses her arms over her chest, shifting away from him slightly.

She knew this was going to be one of the things that became an ongoing point of contention for her. It was rare to get first-hand experience and even harder to get honest stories from returning aid workers. Ever since she'd heard about the ongoing conflict in the country she'd been trying to get an inside look at how international groups were helping the cause. She'd spent months lobbying different organizations, trying to break her way into their ranks so that she could see for herself what was going on and write something that would wake people up to the crisis. Her mission opportunity had come up almost Providentially after a meeting with the NGO she volunteered for and she'd been booked on the next rotation out to the medical site they ran in the displacement camps. Now she was here to see what was happening and report her first pieces back to HQ so that they could work dually on getting a message out. It was just the start but she could feel in her bones that it was the start of something big.

"I'm here working on a book." Her tone makes him lean his head back, a groan erupting from his chest as he looks towards her.

"Of course you are," he growls. "It's just my luck to happen upon the one journalist they bother to send to this thing. I didn't realize this was your subject area, Anne-girl."

"Don't call me that. And what do you even mean by that?" She demands, her cheeks heating with his accusatory tone.

"Why can't I call you that? I think it's cute," he cuts into her thoughts, getting caught up on the nickname and ignoring her counter-question. Typical.

Glancing towards him she frowns, reaching up and brushing loose strands of her hair back from her face. "Because. It implies familiarity that we don't have, Doctor." Her words bite and he watches her with an intensity that makes her squirm. How had she not noticed that before at the airport? That he could see through her facade?

"Okay. I'll try to refrain. How long are you here for?" He looks away and twists his watch on his wrist distractedly, dropping the familial tone along with the concession.

"Three weeks for now. You?"

"A month. I guess we'll be getting to know each other better." She looks at him then and notices the way his smile isn't as bright, his attention focused elsewhere.

"I guess so," she replies lowly. The heat from earlier has all but disappeared and left her with a lonely anxiousness, one born from the fear that what was supposed to have been a meaningless connection in a random airport had turned into the longest date she never signed up for.

They spend the remainder of the ride looking out their respective windows, silence heavy in the vehicle until they pull up to the gate of the camp and step out into the cool evening air. She moves slowly around the back of the vehicle trying to give Gilbert more time to collect his things so that she didn't have to face him but he was one step ahead, already having pulled her kit from the back and settled it on the ground ready for her.

"You don't have to do that," she grumbles, grabbing the handle and stalking towards the administration tent. Gilbert follows a distance behind her, keeping silent as they enter the space and receive their sleeping assignments.

After checking in and sorting out their paperwork they head towards the housing tents and split down the different walkways. They're almost out of sight of one another when Gilbert stops, turning to face her. "Anne," he says, causing her to pause and look at him.

"Yeah Gil?" He smiles, his face lighting up as though it was a personal victory for him that she would say his name like that.

"I'm looking forward to building that familiarity. Sleep well."