Heathrow Airport: Copenhagen Style

[Simon Kipling]

Bing Bong. "SAS airlines arrival from Copenhagen, flight number 5 0 3, now arriving at gate number 42."

The announcement from the intercom softly echoed over the bustle of Terminal 3's ground floor. Recent arrivals who weren't transferring to another flight streamed out from the luggage claim, past the duty-free shops and into the common area. Dressed in a finely made bespoke two-button grey suit, the only thing that set Simon apart from the businessmen on the afternoon flight was that he wasn't blathering away on a headset. He pulled a large wheeled suitcase to a more open part of the floor, a steamer trunk hefted on his shoulder as though it were a styrofoam picnic cooler.

[Roland Sackville]

Professor Roland Sackville, dressed in a vest and bow tie, was reading an Italian newspaper next to a sign with the X-Logo on it in the waiting area.

[Simon Kipling]

Spying the sign, Simon approached the man, setting his steamer trunk down for a moment.

"Am I your only fare this trip?" He asked, trying to break the ice.

[Roland Sackville]

"Wow, I didn't realize I was getting paid," he joked. "You'd be Mr. Kipling, then?"

[Simon Kipling]

Simon offered his hand. "And you are?"

[Roland Sackville]

"Roland Sackville. I'm the new history professor and, apparently, gofur."

[Simon Kipling]

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Simon said, giving Roland's hand a firm shake. "And you have my sympathies."

[Roland Sackville]

"Well, it's nothing I haven't had to put up before, and you know how busy it gets at the University."

[Simon Kipling]

"I know all too well Professor Sackville." Simon said as he hefted the steamer trunk back onto his shoulder. "Busy enough that packing up and moving to another country do do a year's worth of work in a semester is the more inviting alternative."

"Shall we?"

[Roland Sackville]

"It's a shame you hold our academic standards in such poor standing," Roland joked. "Come on, let's get you home."

In the parking lot was an old Trabant which Roland was headed towards.

[Simon Kipling]

"Oh, the university is a good school. It's when you've got to ask for an extension on your research paper because you have to spend a few weeks in a stasis tank after fighting a giant robot that you start to think about broadening your horizons." Simon clarified.

Simon looked over the East German car curiously. "I'm all for classic cars and all, but uh... is this going to fit?" He asked, gesturing to his trunk.

[Roland Sackville]

"We may need to tie it to the roof. Don't worry, I've done this before."

[Simon Kipling]

"Alright, if you're not worried about it scratching the paint." Simon shrugged a bit. It was Roland's call after all. He set the trunk on the roof of the car as carefully as he could.

[Roland Sackville]

"Oh, she's seen a number of touchups over the years. Don't worry about it; these things are practically indestructible."

[Simon Kipling]

"So, where's the rope?"

[Roland Sackville]

"Always keep some rope on you, m'lad," he chuckled, opening up the boot. "We'll get you home in no time."

The trunk had, actually, quite a range of tools and stuff stashed in it, including a length of rope.

[Simon Kipling]

"Well, it's not always a good idea to take rope onto a plane." Simon pointed out. He picked the length of rope, unspooling it and looping one end through a handle on the side of the trunk.

"You're not, like, some kinda of daring archaeologist on the side, are you?"

[Roland Sackville]

"Eh, I've done some fieldwork and things from time to time," Roland dodged.

[Simon Kipling]

"Whatever you say, Dr. Jones."

[Roland Sackville]

Roland chuckled. "Let's get you home."

And off they went.