What I’m not a fan of is walking through the airport in handcuffs, but that’s what Cara had to do to make this an official prisoner transport. Of course it doesn’t help that EJ is asking, very loudly, why I have to be handcuffed and why he can’t wear some, too. The only benefit is that people are steering clear of me and offering sympathy to Ryley because they’re all assuming I’m her fugitive husband. Being a “fugitive” means we don’t have to sit and wait with everyone else. The first class lounge is very nice, and even with it being my first time in here, I find that I could get used to something like this. Being in the Navy doesn’t exactly pad the pocketbook—therefore, if it takes handcuffs to get into the first class lounge, so be it. Unfortunately, when we get on the plane we’ll be in coach like everyone else, except we have the luxury of getting on first. You know, dangerous criminal and all. I have to say, Ryley isn’t playing the role of doting wife to me right now; she’s chasing EJ around.
