Strangers on a Plane

A/N: This was my entry into the NEiAS Holiday Challenge. I can't believe it won as it's not exactly a traditional holiday story. I just want to thank everyone that voted for me and if you haven't already then check out the site, it's great.

Special thanks to Bean12 for the beta and Happy Holidays to everyone, I hope they were peaceful and joyful.

I don't own any of this even though I wrote 25 letters to Santa asking for it.

Strangers on a Plane

The flight was almost half over by the time he finally talked to her. She wasn’t asleep, but her dirty blond hair was falling over her face as she stared intently at her book. The earphones she wore cut her off from the world, but he could tell that she wasn’t really paying any attention to what she was doing. He’d been watching her for almost a half hour and she hadn’t turned the page once.

“You’re Grace Polk,” he said finally. “The author.”

“Huh?” She pulled out her I-pod, paused it and looked at her neighbor. The I-pod was pink. That was unexpected.

“You’re Grace Polk, the author,” he repeated.

“Not a question, right? If you already know who I am, why are you asking me?”

“Curiosity I guess. It’s not every day you get to sit next to someone famous, especially not in Economy.”

“Great. I’m Grace Polk. There, you met me. Now you have a fun story to tell all your friends.” She didn’t sound angry exactly, more irritated yet resigned. He guessed it couldn’t be easy getting recognized. She started to put her headphones back on, but he started to talk again.

“Sucks to be traveling on Christmas, right?”

“Doesn’t make much difference to me. I’m Jewish.” He wasn’t sure why she answered him. He certainly hadn’t expected it.

“Then why are you taking the 10pm flight to Boston on Christmas Eve? Why not wait 'til tomorrow? It’d be a lot less crowded, less saps like me trying to get home in time to see Christmas morning.”

“Would you want to stay in LA a moment longer than you had to?”

He laughed, she just smirked. “I guess not.” He pulled a book out of his bag.

“I guess this is fate, huh?” He held up his book for her to see. It was her first book. “I’ve read it like 5 times. It never gets old.”

He could tell she was kind of embarrassed, not used to attention. That wasn’t much of a surprise though. She shunned publicity and never gave interviews. Her publishers played up to the image, painting her as enigmatic and mysterious. She seemed more shy than anything to him.

“I just have one question?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ask away. I might not answer.”

“This is semi-autobiographical, right?”

“I never said that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He smiled. “Was there really a Greg? I mean did he… does he exist?”

“I don’t know anyone called Greg.”

“Fine. Was the character of Greg based on a real person?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not. I just always wondered. He just seemed so perfect. The rest of the characters are all so flawed, but he’s not. I mean, when his Mom and Dad forgot his 16th birthday? He just lets it go. I guess I just wanted to know if you really knew a guy that was that perfect?”

She didn’t answer. She did kind of half smile though, like there was a big grin trying to appear and she was fighting it. He took that as a yes.

“I should hate you for creating him. My wife read it and then went off on one to me about how thoughtless I was compared to this fictional 15 year old.” He laughed at the memory. “I never liked him much anyway. I like the sister. The schizophrenic one who thinks angels are talking to her.”

“Me too,” she murmured. She wasn’t talking to him, more to herself.

“Now she has to be real. Nobody could make up someone that nuts.”

“She’s married to my best friend.” She grinned. The smile lit up her face, and he saw for the first time just how pretty she really was, and how young. She couldn’t have been more than 30. “If you tell anyone that, I’ll sue you for slander. I told her I based the character on a cousin of mine.” She was still smiling, but somehow he didn’t doubt that she would carry out her threat.

“I’m sure no one would believe me if I did tell them.”

“Here.” She opened her backpack and pulled another book out of it. She handed it to him. “It’s the sequel. I got the first advanced copies from my publishers earlier today.”

“What… huh?”

“Lets just call it the spirit of Christmas,” She paused for a long time.

“You know, you’re the first person to guess that Kitty was based on a real person. Everyone always thinks that she’s the only completely fictional one, even the ones who went to high school with me and knew her. I guess I’m one of the few who knows how nuts she really is.”

He didn’t have an answer to that and a moment later she pulled her headphones on once again. The conversation was obviously over so he began to read the book she had given him. It was a continuation of Judy’s story, this time in college not high school. Kitty and Rob weren’t with her, but sure enough there was Greg, the perfect boyfriend, giving up his dream of MIT so he could stay with her. Of course Judy hated this and broke up with him for being a dependant wimp.

The writing was as good as the first book and he knew it would be just as big a hit. The characters were so real, and now he’d met Grace Polk he knew why. There was no thinly veiled account of truth here, this had all really happened. He could easily imagine the woman sitting next to him embarking on a disastrous series of relationships just to prove that she was over whoever Greg really was.

The rest of the flight went far too quickly, and when the pilot announced that it would be 30 minutes until they landed, he decided to skip to the last chapter of the book. He couldn’t resist reading the end while still sitting next to the author.

Once he’d finished it he sat back in his seat and looked over at Grace. For the first time he noticed the ring on her left hand.

“You married him.” He wasn’t even sure if he was really speaking to her.

“Check out the dedication, dude.”

To Luke, You make all things possible.

“That’s why you’re heading home in the middle of the night.”

“He’s Catholic. He’d kill me if I missed our son’s first Christmas morning.”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“Is anybody?

“Hey, gimmie that for a minute.” She pulled the book back from him, pulled a pen out of her backpack and scribbled something in the front of the book.

He didn’t get a chance to look at it when she handed it back to him. The flight attendant came around at that moment and asked them to put everything away to prepare for landing. Once the plane landed he forgot about it in his rush to get home to his family. Grace Polk disappeared into the crowd at the airport and he made his way home.

It wasn’t until he was emptying his carry-on at home that he saw the book again. He opened it and saw that she had inscribed the book for him.

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Happy Christmas, Grace Girardi.