muffins!

Sebastian was just pulling his suitcase off of the belt, when his phone let out a "beep." He smiled (didn't mean to, of course), and flipped it open, pausing on his way out of the carpeted claim area. Okay, i wait for you. Seb grinned again, and shut his phone. She was crazy.

He shoes squeaked on the tiles. The air outside, though chilly to the usual Georgian, was comfortable in comparison with the temperatures he'd faced in Denmark. This was warm, warm air! He took a deep breath, and walked out into the dark and the light, across the wet street, and to the parking garages. The fluorescent lights were so bright on all of the thousands of cars, parked side by side like a organized used car lot. Now, where was his car? Oh, wait, Sebastian was exceedingly practical and rational, remember, he cuts his lettuce with a knife...

He dug his fingers in the pocket of his jacket, where, among other things like fuzz, he found and pulled out a small piece of paper, bearing the letter G, and the number 15. Ah, that did make things easier.

Once in his car (gosh, his car was like blisssssss) and out on the highway, he found his phone and called Trina back. Hopefully she hadn't fallen asleep and he was about to wake her up. He hoped not, hoped not so much that he almost hung up, but decided that for practical reasons, he needed to talk to her. Like he had to stay awake himself on his drive back. Or because he hadn't talked to her in three months. Either way, it was a must do.