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_ At Capacity _

Another step, another bump. I caught the coldest stare from the wolf whose seat my thigh collided with. Following up by thwacking my tail against his leg can't have helped matters as it trailed behind. I decided against glancing back to check for certain. No, instead, I tugged my trolley bag and took another awkward, waddling step through this cramped, crowded plane, hip-checking yet another seat, yet another passenger, this time on the opposite side of the aisle. Boarding our flight had me feeling so incredibly small... If only the reality matched.

"This is insane," I grumbled, harsh but muted, trying to keep my arms close and shoulders narrow. "How in the world are they expecting me to cope like this?"

"We'll make it work," Sam replied from his place in my shirt pocket. Neither that nor his smile helped convince me as my ears brushed along the cabin's ceiling. "There's not much more we can do, hon."

The side of my stomach squished against the headrest of another, thankfully empty seat. Lucky, considering how hard I made the whole thing rock. "You sound like the guy at check-in."

"I don't remember him calling you 'hon'."

I grunted, ducking to dodge the open door of an overhead compartment. "Funny."

"Hey, now." Sam rubbed his little paw at my chest. "Be positive."

"How?"

"At least we got rebooked on a same-day flight. Could've been worse. We could've been one of those left waiting until tomorrow to fly back home."

He was right. I knew he was. That didn't mean I had to admit it. "I would've preferred that to getting lumbered with a regular-sized seat tonight."

"Oh, come off it!"

"Come off, what?" Another stride brought with it another slam of my hip into someone's backrest. "Gods above, I can barely _fit_in the plane, never mind whatever seat I've been given!"

Sam took a quick glance around, spending most of time peering down at the top of my stomach before returning his eyes to mine. His toothy grin and swaying tail said way more than words could have.

"I'm glad _you're_enjoying this at least." I tugged my trolley case closer, cheeks warming, eyes closing as another step resulted in another part of my anatomy connecting with something else. "I'm never flying with SwiftJet again after this screw up."

"Look..." Sam hesitated with both his rubbing and his reply, tempering his smile before resuming both. "They probably saw us listed as red pandas on the booking and assumed we'd be fine getting rebooked in regular seats."

"Despite us paying extra for larger ones!?"

"Guess so..." He scratched at his cheek, red and white tail sliding itself tighter to him. "They did have the rest of our flight to rebook, remember. I'm just glad they didn't split us up and dump me in the Maleni section."

"I wouldn't have boarded if they had," I snapped, keeping my voice and my head low as my tail swiped at something or someone else. "This here's bad enough, never mind having to sit alone."

"It'll be fine," Sam sang, stretching up to stroke my chin, then peck me on the lip. "Let's just be happy they didn't cancel this flight, too."

I huffed past his sweet little snout, ruffling up his red headfur. That kiss of his almost had me happy again as my bicep flexed, straining my shirt from how hard I needed to tug and clatter my case past yet another troublesome seat. "...I suppose."

What a disaster. I couldn't believe our perfect holiday in Damaras was ending on such a sour note. When we left our hotel and stepped out into the summer morning sun, not once did I envisage the ordeal that we'd be subjected to that afternoon. An approaching storm forced our original flight to be delayed during our taxiride to the airport. Then again after we'd arrived. However, as thick, grey clouds rapidly rolled in right on top of us, that delay became a cancellation: the same fate that befell most other flights scheduled to depart.

For eight hours we waited on hard, unforgiving seats, eating dire, overpriced food in a terminal jam-packed with travellers suffering along with us. Sam at least could find some comfort in my shirt pocket, reminding me throughout that 'things could be worse', but as one flight after another moved from delayed to cancelled, even he started to get restless.

Once everything was said and done, after cancelled flight after cancelled flight, our 2pm departure back home to Vodaskal ended up becoming a 10pm one. The last of the day. We were lucky, according to Sam. Maybe. But I didn't much feel lucky while drawing tuts, groans and stares from the whole damn cabin as I stumbled along, struggling to reach our seats way, way towards the rear.

See, we'd paid extra for seats nearer the front of the plane. Seats that catered more towards larger species, as well as taller... wider than average members of smaller ones. I hadn't sat in a standard-sized seat since I was a kid. Fourteen or fifteen. Half my life ago. Of all the nights to be revisiting those days, why did it have to be _this_one?

As I walked on, further and further along this tight aisle in a stuffy cabin flooded with scents and sounds, I couldn't help focusing on the seats I kept on hip-checking and butt-bumping. Those still to be occupied were narrow... _very_narrow. Narrowing by the second the longer I looked at them. My warm cheeks got warmer still, radiating to the rest of my face as my heart began thumping faster and faster. I could sense all eyes on me, even if I refused to look up and acknowledge them. This bad day was working hard towards ending even worse.

We made it to our seats a few steps and several more bumps later. The airline certainly hadn't been kind to us, rebooking us just a couple of rows short of the rear of the plane. I glanced down at Sam again, spirits lifted by his pretty smile and swishing tail as I tried my hardest to follow his lead and remain positive. Too bad those good feelings lasted as long as it took me to turn to our seats.

According to my hastily printed ticket, I'd been allocated the middle of three on the plane's right-hand side. And as I'd feared on the long, bumpy walk to reach it, a closer inspection had me fast realising that it looked... not big enough to fit me.

My tail lashed one way, slapping at something cold and metal. Then, it whipped back the other, striking and smothering someone and their protesting paws in the opposite aisle seat.

"What's up?" asked Sam, kneading my chest, pushing all the way down to my muscle. "Your heart's beating like crazy."

The heat in my face had spread to the rest of me, a tingling sensation adding to my discomfort as I stood staring at this shrinking seat. Gods, what if I couldn't fit myself between the armrests? Maybe we'd be waiting for a flight the next morning after all...

"Marek?" Sam prodded me firmer. "Are you okay?"

"Not really..." In the corner of my eye, I spotted something approaching, giving me even less space in this suffocating cabin. I turned my head only as much as I needed to spot the marten who'd followed us up the plane's single aisle, looking anywhere but at me and my swinging tail as she waited to get past. I found much more comfort in turning back to my little 'panda in my pocket. "...Head down, sweetheart."

"Alright." Sam curled up and hunkered himself down into my pocket, pressing even closer to my chest as I reached down for my trolley. Only too aware of how much attention I must've drawn from everyone else aboard, I hauled my luggage up to head height so fast that I damn near threw it against the top of the cabin. Lucky for me my other paw was there to guide it into the overhead compartment instead.

My ears twitched, flicking against the ceiling. I grabbed my tail to stop it doing the same to those around me. That lady to my left was still waiting to get by, but by then, I'd also spotted another lady, a flight attendant, coming up on my right from the very rear of the plane. The rabbit looked rushed, searching left and right, almost like she'd forgotten something. Or maybe all the heat and noise aboard were getting to her, too. I doubted she had the time for me and my complaints. She was gonna hear them regardless.

"Excuse me," I waved a paw to draw her attention. As if I'd needed to. For the first time, filling the entire aisle proved beneficial. "I don't mean to be a pain--"

"Sir," she shot back, only peering part way up to me. "We'll be starting our refreshment service once we're airborne. Please take your seat."

"Uh..." Refreshments? Did I look like I wanted something to eat!? I glanced down at my stomach as I turned fully towards her, one side pressing and hefting up against the back of Sam's empty seat... On review, maybe I did look like it. "No, no, I wanted to ask if there's any possibility of getting moved--"

"Sir--"

"I paid for a larger seat and... Well, these ones here might be a problem for me."

She looked me up and down, no doubt sizing me up. I reckon she knew as well as I did of the headache to come, lips pursing as they did. Even so, she came back to answer, "I'm sorry, really, but with all the problems and cancellations today, the flight is totally full."

"I'm sure, and I wouldn't usually ask, but..." I looked down at my narrow seat again, only then noticing the skinny deer sitting next to the window, distracted from his book and watching me as if caught in headlights. Chalk that up as another person foreseeing the exact same problems I could.

"There's nothing I can do right now," insisted the attendant. "The only possibility will be if someone misses boarding. Until then... my apologies."

I didn't get the opportunity to plead my case further. Not a moment after she'd finished, someone cried out for a 'stewardess' from a few rows down the plane.

"Excuse me." Without another word, the rabbit started to swerve around me, physically pressing her arm into my side in an effort to squeeze by. Instinctively, I stepped aside and swung my hips away, trying to give her space. My reward for that was to thunk my head against the overhead compartment, then almost stumble sideways into our row. Fortunately for the deer by the window, my butt slammed and wedged up against the backrests of the row ahead, slowing me enough to let me regain my balance. No doubt, he wouldn't have appreciated getting flattened anything like as much as some others.

"I don't think we've got a choice here," Sam said, clinging to my shirt to keep steady in my pocket. "It's these seats or nothing."

"But look at me," I whispered into his ear, pleading, as if he could do anything to help. "I'm not gonna fit. I'd need _two_of these seats to have a hope."

"Hon, listen. You're my big, huge 'panda..." He reached up to stroke my snout and play with my whiskers. "But you're not _that_big."

I smiled. Almost chuckled. That must've been the first time I'd ever heard him play _down_my size.

"Let me take the middle seat, and you take the aisle. At least that way you'll have some space either side of you, and you'll not squash that guy next to us." He snuck another kiss to my lip, lowering his voice to an even stealthier murmur. "I doubt he'd enjoy it anywhere near as much as I would."

That brewing chuckle found a way out. "I was thinking the same, actually."

Only too conscious of the blockade I'd created thus far, not to mention my menace of a tail still brushing folk in the aisle as they finally squeezed past, I kept my head down and my focus firmly on getting Sam's seat ready. It wasn't a tough task, even with the manual setup required here on an older plane; just an unclipping of its base from beneath the chair and a quick flip to fold it up and over the cushion. After that, his little Maleni-sized seat automatically unfolded and assembled itself right there and then. For me, the trickiest part of it all, and tricky it did turn out to be, was forcing enough of myself low enough in the footwell, all whilst avoiding stepping on the lashing tail of the leopard in the row ahead.

With Sam's middle seat now primed and ready, I gathered him up out of my shirt pocket and helped him down to start getting settled. It was about time that something on our disrupted journey home went my way... Though with how things had unfolded up to that point, I feared that things going my way would prove the exception, not the rule.

I'd barely lifted myself to a crouch before my headfur flattened out against the underside of the overhead compartment. Even with my stomach still sheltering Sam in his seat atop a seat, my tail and my back end were still forcing anyone passing in the aisle into evasive manoeuvres. No word of a lie, it felt like the plane was shrinking, constricting by the second. The same held true for my seat... offering nowhere near enough legroom to be comfortable, plus armrests that I couldn't possibly imagine fitting between.

As I assessed the impending disaster before me, I caught a glimpse in my periphery of three otters, a couple and their young son, occupying the row behind ours. I saw more and more of them as they pried my attention from my seat, shamelessly gawking at me as if I were the pre-flight entertainment. The warmth returned to my face at speed, ears folding as I tried to focus on me and my stiffening neck alone. Even as I felt one false move away from bursting right out of this whole damn cabin, I didn't have a choice... I had to give sitting down a try.

The first port of call was to turn myself around, which in retrospect, might've been easier if I'd shimmied back out into the aisle. Instead, I decided to think the thinnest thoughts possible and do it right there in front of my seat. Ultimately, said thoughts helped about as much as trying to suck my stomach in did: not one little bit. I felt like a fucking tanker ship attempting to navigate a narrow river, barging, bumping, and damn near tumbling over anything and everything around me.

Jammed between the seats, their supports, and the tail of the guy sitting one row ahead, I had little to no space to plant my feet. That made keeping my balance a hundred times harder, not helped in the slightest by my stomach squishing and squashing around and against the backrest, underbelly slowly escaping from under my straining shirt. Time and again, I had to lurch forward to right myself. Not to mention to keep from cracking my head against the panelling above. That caused me to further overshadow, further overwhelm the seat ahead, as well as an increasingly irritated leopard whom I was now damn near looking directly down at.

Almost facing forward, I no longer had to worry about my butt or tail catching anyone in the aisle. Too bad for the guy ahead that it meant my knees would come into play, smacking into the backrest as I struggled for room in this ridiculously tight space. Before, I could feel the chaos I was causing, but now, I could _see_it. That whole seat, and the others in the row ahead, all shook and shuddered, shifting with my every move, step, and shove.

"Sorry about this," I grumbled to the leopard through gritted teeth, grabbing his headrest and heaving myself the rest of the way around. My foot punted the tip of his tail, head thumping against the ceiling while my stomach threatened to springboard me back into my seat. Again, in retrospect, letting myself fall might've been the best way to force myself between those armrests.

Finally, puffing and panting after what felt like a major logistical operation, I'd dragged myself into position with... minimal fuss. I didn't even entertain the idea of looking at anyone or anything but my seat. Well, all except Sam.

Sitting nice and comfortably in that middle seat, he had a front-row view to the show I'd reluctantly put on. Of course, all my bumping and bouncing around had put the hugest, most shameless smile you could imagine on his little muzzle, eyes lasered in on my backside. I couldn't begrudge my little 'panda a pleasant experience there on the plane, but stars above, was I jealous of him at that moment. With all the legroom he could want with that converted seat, we had two very different flights back home ahead of us. Oh, to be a Maleni... or even just a more regular-sized red panda...

"How am I looking here?" I asked, hoping he'd be the only one to hear me.

"Looking good," he replied, almost in song. Tail swaying, his shameless smile became the daftest smirk. "Looking great, actually."

I huffed so hard that I sent the seat ahead creaking yet again. "I mean, am I actually gonna fit in this damn seat?"

"Right." He cringed, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. His attention jumped from my butt to my seat, hanging there long enough for his ears to dip low. "Uh..."

"Oh, fantastic."

"Hey, it's okay. Calm down." Sam rubbed his cheek, taking a moment to give the scene a proper assessment. "How about... do those armrests move? Can you raise them up?"

A moment of hope helped to lift me as much as possible in such a confined space. Why didn't I think of that before? I threw my paw towards the aisle-side armrest. Tried to pull it. Then again. I sank right back down. "Can't. It won't budge."

"And this one here?"

I didn't hold much confidence that things would go differently, but I tried to lift the armrest between our seats all the same. "Nope."

"Really?"

"Did I not just say no?"

"Don't snap."

"I'm not snapping."

"There should be a release button."

"Uh... Oh!" After a brief search, I noticed said button hiding on the armrest's underside. Was that the solution perhaps? I pressed it down. Yanked again. Same old story. "Gah! It's busted or something. Godsdamn it."

"Hon-?"

"Why?" I gruffed through set teeth. "This should be so hard-"

"Marek?"

I peered back down at Sam again. "Yeah?"

"Look..." His cheek-rubbing had turned to scratching. "...It's not that bad."

"You're a terrible liar, you know that--?"

"You_can_get yourself into that seat," he insisted. "Come on. You gotta give it a try."

As much as I hated to admit it, Sam was right. A quick scan of the cabin helped me realise just how full the plane had got, as well as how few of those aboard were still standing. The in-flight entertainment had booted up, displaying a 'welcome aboard' message that I could just about make out past my midsection.

Narrow or not, and with no word from that attendant about moving seats, I absolutely _had_to give sitting in this one a try. With a wince hard enough to feel, I shifted my weight backwards, grabbed hold of both armrests, and swallowed hard. If I could take it slow, then maybe... maybe this seat would cater for me just fine.

Like lowering myself into a piping hot bath, I moved as cautiously as possible, waiting for the unmistakable moment that I found some part of my seat. Biting down on my lip, I hoped it'd be the cushion, or perhaps even the backrest. Of course, I wasn't shocked in the slightest when a sizeable section of my thighs began to press upon and around the armrests.

"See?" Sam said. "You're fine."

"You and me have a very different definition of fine."

"Keep cool."

"Sam, I--" I cut myself off before I blew up at him completely. Still, his ears splayed as if I'd done just that. Well done, Marek... "Sorry."

After a pause, he offered me a sweet half-smile. One almost sweet enough to help me forget my predicament. "Come on. You can do it."

I grunted, huffed, then went quiet. It took me a moment, plus another, in fact, but with a deep breath, I bowed to Sam's confidence and allowed more of my weight to press downwards. Just as I'd feared, and just as my thighs smothering the armrests confirmed, getting into this seat was going to prove a desperately unwanted challenge. Swinging and twisting my hips any which way I could, doing my best to keep my tail clear, I began shoving myself down again and again, harder and harder. I experienced every small, successful advance and then some, shorts bunching, fur tugging at my wedging, wobbling thighs as I forced my frame between firm, creaking, otherwise immovable plastic. And that was just the start.

My hips were next to feel the literal pinch, bulging out into the draughty open air as push after downward push did little except riding my shirt upwards. I did what I could to keep myself presentable, hiding as much of my escaping stomach as possible while maintaining my efforts to get seated. Progress came slow, accompanied by more and more of my tender skin and frizzing fur being ground over and snatched at. These damned armrests dug so deep into my sides that, genuinely, I feared I might end up shifting them outwards, not upwards, at very high speed.

Meanwhile, beneath the increasingly painful squeeze, I felt my butt get low enough in the seat that it found space to spread beneath those low-groaning armrests. I did my best to suppress my own rumbles of complaint, noticing just how many people I had watching. From our row and the row behind us, on both sides of the aisle, everyone watched as I fought to manoeuvre my large self into this small, shuddering, squealing seat. Between my audience and a discomfort sharp enough to force those building complaints from my clenched muzzle, my tail had gone berserk, twitching and flitting over as much of the cabin as it could. At least it was, until suddenly, something gave. I slipped, fell, then crashed the rest of the way down.

"Fu-- Gods," I croaked, grimacing almost as hard as my landing.

"Jeez," Sam yelped, grabbing hold of his own armrests. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I, uh... I sat on myself."

"What, your...?" He cleared his throat, then snuck a gesture towards his crotch.

"No!" I winced again. "...My tail."

"Oh... damn."

I studied my midsection, paws up, open and useless, trying in vain to work out the best way to free myself. With each passing second, my tail tip twitched harder in the aisle, signalling the urgency as the rest of it sat trapped beneath me. To make matters even worse, I had the corners of my so-called backrest digging into my shoulder blades, piling on even more pain.

Desperation hit. I reached back to tug at the base of my tail, but I couldn't hope to move the rest of it. I needed to shift myself first, even a little bit, but with these fucking armrests almost lost within my hips, I simply couldn't budge any meaningful amount.

"No way." A desperate whine slipped out as I realised my only option... I'd have to fight my way back free again.

Holding what I could of the buried armrests, I began rocking back and forth, doing all I could to heave and haul myself up to my feet. To my jaw-tightening, teeth-grinding despair, it did nothing of the sort. Not at first, anyhow. Instead, it sent my seat shaking, jamming even deeper into my back and sides. That piled on my discomfort, my distress, which in turn cycled around to force me to battle even harder. Hard enough to start my seat squealing with every heave. And hard enough to go lurching forward once my hips finally squeezed themselves free, chest and stomach slamming and sloshing against the poor leopard's seat ahead.

"Sorry," I mumbled, once again, sighing in relief as my tail finally stopped throbbing. That relief proved short-lived, fading away as I noticed just how many people were staring from the rows behind, beside, and ahead of me now. After all, how could they miss me? Standing slouched and semi-crouched beneath the overhead compartment. Gods, the embarrassment hit hard, burrowing into my chest, swirling along with the thought that I was just too damn big to fit in this standard-sized part of the plane.

"Please fasten your seatbelt," a familiar voice asked of someone sitting behind us. I whipped my head around, leaning to find that rabbit attendant from earlier starting another walk down the aisle. She glanced my way from a row back, no doubt ready to order me to fasten my own belt. I made sure to beat her to the punch.

"Excuse me," I blurted, voice cracking, threatening to break. "About that larger seat? Is there any chance of moving?"

In my compact position, she needn't lift her head to look me in the eye. Likewise, I could see her hesitance to reply clear as day, right in front of me.

"I'm afraid that won't be an option, sir." She smiled, showing plenty of sympathy. But what good was sympathy to me? "Everyone booked has made it aboard, so... there's nothing we can do."

"Seriously?" My paws scrambled around for something and nothing while my brain did the same. "I can't even lift the inside armrest. I think it's stuck. I can't... There's really nothing you can do? Nothing at all?"

"We'll be taking off soon," she replied, as if I really had said nothing. At all. "If you could do what you can to get yourself... comfortable, I'll go get you a seatbelt extender."

And with that, as quickly as she'd arrived, before I could get another word out, the attendant continued her way down the aisle, leaving me to deal with things alone. Well, almost alone.

"A seatbelt extender?" I turned to Sam, squeezing the armrests tighter and tighter. "Is she serious?"

He looked up at me, mouth open but silent. I saw his ear-flattening concern. But also, I knew how little he could do to help me. Not that that'd ever stop him from trying. "...Is there anything I can do?"

I growled out loud, going for so long that my throat started to sting. Fuck keeping quiet, no matter how many people we had around us. I'd accepted getting moved to these smaller seats. I'd done everything I could to make the best of a bad situation. But still, I couldn't do it. I just could not fit myself between those godsdamned armrests!

"Hon, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I shot back through clenched jaws, tail lashing against my headrest. Do what I can to get comfortable, huh? Fuck it. Now _that_was something I could do. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you all strapped in?"

He checked his little seatbelt, then offered up a bemused, uncertain nod.

"Good." With one paw, I gripped the armrest between us as hard as I could. So hard that my pawpads stung. Including the fingerpad damn near crushing the unlock button. "I'm gonna fix this armrest of theirs. Hold on."

"Marek?" Sam called. "Hey, Marek?"

Biting down, blasting air through my nose, and letting out another guttural growl from the depths, I channelled all of my force, all of my will into my arm. Then, gladly, I pulled.

"What are yo--?"

I grunted. Hard. Almost as hard as my seat shook. My shirt sleeve crackled, bicep burning and bulging, threatening to burst right out into the open. A chorus of creaks, crunches, and squeals rang out, growing fiercer, louder the longer I strained. Each deathly rattle spurred me on, helping me, in my mind at least, to find and up my exertion to a whole new level of power.

"I don't think--"

My paw wrenched upwards, causing another fatal screech that stopped Sam dead. That grinding scream of metal on metal rang in my ears as, slowly, my arm continued to rise, pulling the faltering armrest right along with it. "Hah."

"Holy..." Sam's jaw dropped. I waited for a scolding, a warning... but instead, I watched the corners of his mouth rise into a captivated smile. All the motivation I needed to finish the job.

With my little 'panda as my audience, and who knew, who cared how many others, I took a second to take in air and gather myself. Gritting my teeth, resetting my grasp, I aimed to return to that muzzle-creasing, sleeve-threatening peak that had taken things that far. But, as it turned out, I needn't have gone so hard. The damage had already been done.

My elbow slammed back against my seat, shaking it once more as I tore the armrest right out of whatever remained to resist me. A hail of small, grimy metal shards flew out from beneath it, pattering down to the floor around my feet while one final, defeated shriek cut through the cabin. Huffing, sighing, smirking, I finally shoved that crusty old armrest up to a ninety-degree angle. "There... fixed."

I never imagined getting that damn thing shifted would've freed up quite as much space as it did. Sure, nothing was going to help the chronic lack of legroom for someone my height, but from the aisle to the start of Sam's seat atop the seat beside mine, I had plenty of room to park myself. Plenty of room and no reason not to use it.

Drained of energy and patience, I allowed myself to do nothing more than simply lift my arms and fall back from that awful, knee-aching crouch. This time, my thighs and hips were spared any squeezing or tugging, while my tail had space to sway well clear of my backside as I landed... a whole lot heavier than I anticipated.

My teeth chattered as a resounding thud radiated out from beneath me, coupled with a whole new wave of metallic creaks and plastic crackles. Me, my seat, the entire damn row even, jerked and jolted, trembling in the aftermath. "...Whoops."

"Oh, good gods," yelped the father and husband of the otter family sitting behind. I tried not to picture the scene I'd created back there, turning my attention instead to threading my tail through the backrest and curling it beneath my chair. Fortunately, after the shaking had stopped and I'd got settled properly, I wouldn't hear another peep out of him.

After all that fighting, finally, I could sit back, relax, and breathe easy. Yeah, the headrest might not have been high enough to support me, the backrest might've still been digging into my shoulders, and my knees might still have been pressing into the seat ahead, but damn it if this wasn't luxury enough.

"Jeez, big 'panda," Sam whispered in song, leaning over to rub at my stomach, spreading out into the middle seat as it was. "Just..."

"Just, what?"

"Just... Wow." He stretched further, as far as his seatbelt would allow, nosing into my hip. "Were you _trying_to put on a show?"

"Show?" I scoffed. "If you call sitting myself down a show."

"That, and almost tearing the whole damn seat out." Sam paused from his nuzzling, shining a grin up at me. "But next time you sit down, do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Try not to almost snap the plane in half. I don't wanna go through this kinda rebooking nonsense ever again."

"Oh, stop." I chuckled out loud, shifting over to cuddle him into my side, relief growing by the second. "Goofy."

"You wouldn't be calling me goofy if you felt what I did..." He wiggled between my paw and paunch, vibrating with the most contented grumble. "...And probably half the cabin along with me."

Half the cabin? That triggered me to raise my head and glance over to the third person on our side of the row: the skinny, book-reading deer in the window seat.

I watched him watching me, silent and... shocked, I think. For a brief moment, I wondered what to do, what to say, if anything. No matter. I didn't have to wait long before he threw himself back deep into that book of his. No doubt I'd given him a story to share once he got home.

"Good evening everyone, my name is Sonja and I'm your chief flight attendant. Onbehalf of the entire crew, welcome aboard SwiftJet flight number SJ350, non-stop service from Glypoi to Koprovice..."

"Oh, hey..." My ears perked up high to the crackling voice coming over the announcement system. "That's her."

"Who's her?" Sam asked, well muffled from our hugging.

"That's the attendant who... helped."

He wriggled his head free of my paw and hip to look up at me. "And?"

"And... I'm just hoping she remembers to bring me my seatbelt extender."

"She will." Sam snorted, squeezing his arms even deeper into my side. "Don't worry."

Suitably assured by my little 'panda's confidence, I half-listened to the rest of the flight announcement with a smile, cuddling him closer as I sprawled. My left leg encroached on the aisle while the other slid further under the seat ahead, next to the resting tail of the leopard I could finally give peace to. After such an ordeal, I couldn't not stroke a finger between Sam's ears and say, "Thanks, sweetheart."

"Anytime, hon."

Comfy, happy, mostly ready for takeoff on our journey home from our holiday, I had just one last thing to ask of my little 'panda. "Next time we fly somewhere, make sure to remind me to book seats in premium class."