The first maniacal buzz of the alarm clock yanked her rudely from the quiet warmth of slumber, and she turned with a groan to hit the snooze button.  As her fingers brushed cool plastic, however, she remembered what day it was, and the jolt following the realization was enough to rattle her sleep-numbed mind.  

She fell off the bed with a muffled thump, muttering curses that could not dampen the rising jubilance ballooning in her heart and spreading rampantly through her limbs.  The usual ritual of sifting through haphazard piles of clothes was bypassed, as the room was entirely spotless.  She hobbled to the closet and grabbed the new outfit bought especially for the occasion, absentmindedly rubbing the already tender spot on her knee where she had thwacked it against her dresser.  

The fabric of the denim was snug but comfortable, and the cuffs of the jeans flared gently around her sock-clad feet.  With a slight readjustment to her strapless bra, the only kind she wore now, the brunette pulled on a cozy patterned turtleneck in a deep, soft burgundy.  She quickly slipped on a pair of black ankle boots and grabbed her purse from the dresser, then rushed from her room and towards the front door.  

“Shit!”  With a soft expletive, she suddenly understood that her vision was not blurred due to lack of sleep, but lack of her glasses; and she ran back to her room to snatch them from the nightstand.  Less than a minute later, the sound of an engine purring to life momentarily disrupted the relative quiet of the icy dawn.  As she pulled out of the driveway, she reached over to turn the heat on full blast with fingers that trembled from a mixture of nerves and cold.  

The drive to the airport was short; the streets were virtually empty.  Though it had to have taken at least ten minutes for her to arrive, she felt as if the trip was over in the space of time it took for her to blink.  For a moment she stared up at the towering edifice in silence, making the last drag of her cigarette extra-long.  After grinding the butt into the ashtray, which was nearly overflowing, she slung the straps of her purse over one shoulder and opened the door of her car.  

The cold hit her like a sledgehammer, and she shivered uncontrollably as her hasty steps carried her closer to the entrance.  A businessman on his way out saw her coming and politely held the door open for her to slip in before he exited, and she murmured a distracted thank-you as she made her way to the information desk.  

“May I help you?”

A middle-aged woman asked, blinking at her abrupt stop.  The attendant pushed a stray spiral of bottle-blonde hair from her hazel eyes and graced the early-morning arrival with a smile that wasn’t much warmer than the freezing winter day outside.  The brunette licked her lips nervously and nodded.  

“Ah, y-yes.  The 5:45 flight from LA… at which gate will it arrive?”  She managed to stammer, cheeks going a dusky pink.  The woman turned briskly to her computer and began to enter in the information, manicured fingers flying over the keys.  After a moment she lifted a hand and pointed with a fingernail painted a bright shade of fire-engine red.  

“B4, right over there.  Should be on time.”  The young woman nodded her thanks and turned towards the gate, forcing herself to keep a steady pace when every separate nerve in each of her legs was urging her to run.  

When she reached the gate, she simply gazed at it in quiet fascination.  It was only the second time in her life that she had been inside the airport, and it was quite an intimidating place, with long, echoing hallways that looked as if one could spend hours wandering through them, lost.  An escalator hummed in one direction, carrying a few drowsy people up and down.  The newsstand was just beginning to come to life; lights flickered on to reveal rows of overpriced souvenirs, magazines, and candy.  With a glance at the uncomfortable plastic chairs, she wandered over and grabbed the first magazine that caught her eye.  While the candy was somewhat appealing, she thought her stomach might be far too full of butterflies for there to be any room for chocolate.  

She paid for the magazine and lowered herself into a white plastic chair to wait.  As she never wore a watch, she peered over to check the clock against the far wall - fifteen minutes until the plane touched down.

Her fingers trembled as she paged blindly through the entertainment magazine, her eyes sliding over each page without actually seeing a single word.  The seconds were molasses in a frozen tree, and she shifted in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position.  

Finally, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the smooth, white nose of a commercial jet as it slid into view.  She swallowed hard and stood, slipping her forearm through the straps of her purse and clutching the familiar weight to her abdomen.  

An ever-increasing wave of people began to gradually flood the gate, but her dark-brown eyes swiftly skimmed the crowd, never lighting on one person for long.    

Too short, wrong hair, too short…

The litany ran through her head, and she began to unknowingly move her lips silently in formation of the words; short descriptions of factors that did not add up to what she was looking for.  Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat.  

The latest addition to the lobby stepped into view, slim shoulders slumped with weariness.  He lifted a hand to brush an errant light brown curl from his tired eyes and anxiously scanned the sea of faces, many of which he topped by at least a head.  The combination of hope and fear etched into his face made her heart lurch.

She had to nurture the former and conquer the latter; every molecule of her being demanded it.  As the plump brunette raised her hand to wave, grateful tears stung her eyes.  She blinked them back resolutely, but was unable to hold them at bay when he recognized her.  A beaming smile wreathed his face, and she could tell he wasn’t forcing himself to rush forward – the euphoric joy that had seized them both sizzled through the air between them.  

He stopped a few feet away from her and dropped his bag, suddenly unsure.  Her face flushed heatedly, and she stood frozen in place, trying to reduce her embarrassment by looking away but unable to tear her gaze from his frame.  

“Hi,” she said, and the word was somewhere between a whisper and a sob.  

“G’day, luv,” the tall young man attempted to say lightly, but the breaking of his voice gave him away.  They both stepped forward at the same moment; the traveler opened his arms and his lover promptly fell into their protective circle.  Later there would be time for more words, but for now, he lifted her and she tugged him down.  Their lips met in a soft kiss that neither of them ever dreamed would be quite so electric.  

He bent to retrieve his bag, and as the two of them walked away together, he reached out to take her hand.  She immediately wove her fingers through his – a perfect fit.  When they stepped into the crisp winter morning a few moments later, neither of them felt the cold.