*Dear spicy reader: please note that this story is in progress and will be updated shortly.*

From my vantage point on the bridge of Impatience, the whole of Lovissia spread below me seems to have sprung alive to greet me. I watch in quiet satisfaction as the lights of the city blossom beneath us, a splendor of glass and light.

“It never gets old, does it, Del?” Mannie appears beside me, tucking a watch back into the breast pocket of his uniform. In the semi-darkness of the landing lighting of the bridge, his angular profile in shadow just hints at a smile.

My eye travels over the splendorous city below us, and as always, my heart lifts. “No, Captain. It never does.”

A playful gust of wind suddenly buffets the aeroship and Mannie’s eyes snap to the central nav, where two junior pilots are seated. “Look lively! Watch her sides,” he commands.

He steps forward to oversee the final moments of our descent, murmuring to the pilots and making slight adjustments to our positioning. Meanwhile, I listen quietly to the harmony of sounds for signs of mechanical trouble. The thrumming of the propellors, and reassuring rumble of the engines, however, remain steady.

The aeroship rocks and groans slightly as it settles into place against the dock, bobbing slightly in the warm breeze coming off the Bay of Verun beneath us. I pat my pockets to remind myself that my charter is still easily at hand, and beside me, Gadget gives a chirrup of inquiry.

I glance down at my little automaton, absently patting him across the elegant arched crane of his head. He whirrs quietly and settles against me.

Below us, landing lighting is flashing outside the windows and already the ground crew is moving to begin to unload the wondrous assortment of goods we’ve carried all the way from Karantha City, the busy port capital of Bordeas. And Mannie’s hometown, as it happens. We’ve been friends for about five years, ever since he decided one a whim to strike out from the sunny desert of his childhood and take a contract with my family’s international shipping company.

And he’s completely right. It doesn’t matter how many times I make the twenty-five hundred aeromile journey from Lovissia to Karantha City. It’s a wonder every time to think that a mere three days ago I was walking among the hot, dusty, sunny streets of Karantha, and drinking thick, rich coffee from street vendors. Sometimes I think I ought to stay there longer, to take a break and slow down. But I’m not the type who can sit still for very long. My mind is always whirring like Gadget’s, and more often than not drifting north to the subject I long to spend every moment of my day thinking about. Unconsciously I find myself reaching into my pocket again to reassure myself with the presence of the charter.

“So, headed home, or to see your parents?” asks Mannie, as we begin to make our way across the bridge towards the hatch.

“Home, definitely,” I say fervently. “Papa can wait until tomorrow for a report.”

Mannie grins. “Hmm, will he, though?”

I can’t help laughing. “No, you’re right. Shouldn’t be surprised if there’s a servant waiting at my door when I get home. He’s terribly impatient.”

“So that’s where you get it from,” muses Mannie. Well, I can’t deny it. It’s not one of my finer traits.

“How about you?” I return, removing the charter from my pocket and showing it to the steward standing at the foot of the gangplank. He lays it across a clipboard he’s holding and carefully unfurls it, making checks on his clipboard as his eye scans down the page. I wait, quelling a sigh (again, I am not the most patient person), until he finally nods, rolls the charter back up and hands it to me.

In point of fact, Papa named this aeroship for this dubious quality of ours, though it’s an ongoing family debate on whether the Impatience is more a nod to his own disposition or mine.

Mannie waits until the steward has stepped back and is consulting with one of the ground crew. “Nothing exciting. A tavern meal and an early bedtime. No fun for me tonight. Unless…” He winks at me.

“Oh, ha ha, no.” I reply, giving him a look. He laughs.

And alright, yes. After five years of working closely together in cramped quarters on extended flights it’s hardly surprising we might have had a night or two together. Oh, alright. Several.

Mannie is objectively handsome, not to mention a terribly talented pilot. He’s tall and well-built, with the beautiful midnight complexion of southern Bordeans. He’s funny and easygoing.

I mean, I can see why any woman (or man, for that matter) would be attracted to him. For a few months about four years ago, it was all we could do to get the Impatience safely landed and unloaded before we absconded to the nearest tavern and enjoyed each other thoroughly. But after a while it just fizzled out. Different personalities, I suppose.

Well, it’s this: when Mannie wanted to be kicking back at a pub with a drink, I wanted to be getting on with research or working on upgrades for Gadget. When I wanted to follow up on a potential lead for the World Tree in Esserberg, Mannie wanted to lay out on a beach all day and relax in the sun.

See, when I put it into words, even in my mind, I can see that he sounds like the normal one. Maybe he is. But I can’t help it. He says I’m too driven, too obsessed, but so I am.

I just…there are some things I have to know.

I put it down to our mutual passion for travel that allowed us to remain friends when we decided we weren’t meant to be anything more.