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Round and round, waiting to be picked up, ready to pick up where they’d left off.
Rusty Ryan wasn’t the kind to think in heavy-handed metaphors, but it had been a long night and a bad flight, and the ice cream sandwich he’d snagged as soon as he’d passed through security wasn’t cheering him up as much as he’d like. He hadn’t even needed to wait for anything; he’d only brought carry-on. He hadn’t needed anything else when he was sure anything else would already be sorted.
The carousel was just convenient. Standing by the curbside felt too eager, too much like a dog waiting up for its master. Maybe it was petty — maybe just showing up when asked to was already too eager — but Rusty had at least earned having to find and pay for parking.
“Hey.” Rusty didn’t move towards the sound, but he did smile.
“Hey,” replied Rusty. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, firm and sure. He felt the hand tug and followed where it led him, turning around to face his center, to face Danny.
“Glad you came.”
“Glad you asked.”