Chapter Text
Barclay’s told some bad jokes in his time. This was the first one bad enough to land him in a jail.
Okay, so it’s not jail, it’s some security back-room at PDX, but it’s close enough.
One minute he’d made a comment to Jake about the guy in front of them’s butt being “da bomb” and the next he was being pulled aside for a “special screening.” He knows he’s big and sure as hell Not White, but this is ridiculous.
The door swings open and a man in a grey vest and slacks sits down across from him. Were he not terrified this was going to make them miss their flight (there’s no clock and they took his stuff to check it for explosives so he has no fucking clue what time it is) he’d be more appreciative of how hot the guy is, with his dark hair slicked back and a face that makes Barclay hot under the collar.
He’s holding Barclays wallet, looking at his I.D.
“Barclay Amnesty?”
“Yep, that’s me. And you are..”
“Lucky Stern. Can I ask your destination?”
“Colorado.”
The man scribbles something on a clipboard.
“Reason for trip?”
“Uh, recreation I guess? Taking my cousin snowboarding.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Should be, assuming we ever get there.”
The TSA agent gives a small huff, scribbles something else.
“Can you explain why you ended up here?”
“I already told the agent at the checkpoint it was a joke!”
“I’m aware, but I need to hear it from you in your own words.”
In his own words huh? Fine.
“We were standing in line, and the guy a little ways in front of us just had an ass like a peach. Like the kind that wouldn’t move if you smacked it.”
Agent Stern appears to be blushing. Cute.
“Anyway, I lean over to Jake and say ‘betcha that guy doesn’t get through security because his ass is da bomb. And then I’m here, having to repeat my sub-par pun to you.”
Stern blinks at him before snickering, which turns into a full-blown laugh that requires him to take of his glasses and wipe his eyes.
“Glad somebody liked it.” Barclay uncrosses his arms, pleased at how nice Stern looks when he smiles.
“It’s a spectacularly awful joke.” He chuckles one last time, slips his glasses back on.
“I’m a master.”
“But also I cannot believe that’s what they pulled you in for. I’m so sorry, really, I know they feel they have to vigilant but this is ridiculous. I’ll get your things returned to you, let’s see, the fastest way to your gate will be, oh dear.” He looks at Barclays boarding pass.
“Let me guess, our flight’s already left.”
“It’s finished boarding, and even you left your things here and ran you wouldn’t make it.”
“Fuck.”
“I’m so sorry. I will, well, I know a few of the folks at the Alaska Air desk, I’ll see if they can get you and your cousin on a flight that won’t be too much of a wait or too many stops. Oh, right, your things, excuse me.” He disappears and Barclay watches him go. His ass is better than the one that landed him here.
Aaaannd he’s just been caught staring. Lovely.
Stern returns a few minutes later with Barclays’ bag and some pieces of paper.
“Here, at least let the TSA buy you dinner and a drink for the trouble. These vouchers are good at the Bigfoot Bar and Grill.”
“Thanks.” Barclay takes them, puts them carefully in the bag.
“Here’s your wallet and ticket. Again, my sincerest apologies.” He ushers Barclay out the door, flashes one more apologetic smile after he leads him down a series of halls and back out into the terminal.
Jake’s waiting for him, unflappable even in the face of an extended wait in the airport and excited at the prospect of dinner.
They’re halfway through their meal when Barclays phone buzzes.
“Holy shit.”
“What’s up, dude?”
“We’re on the next flight out to Denver on Alaska, in about an hour and a half. And we’re first class.”
“Hell yeah!”
Barclay grins, slips his phone back into his pocket, dislodging his wallet in the process. It drops on the ground, and as he picks it up a piece of paper slips out. He unfolds it and finds a phone number along with a note.
Buy you another ‘apology’ drink when you get back? Love to hear more of your terrible jokes.
-Lucky
Damn, this turned out better than he expected.
He’s still going to avoid explosive-based humor in the airport in the future. Just to be safe.