Around the World

Chapter 1

Rob ran from his training session at the first sound of a propeller in the skies. Excitement continued to bubble up inside of him as he heard a plane touch down on the airstrip. He vaulted over the fence of the exercise yard, eyes glued to the runway and ears focused on the hum of spinning turbines. He was sure it was an Avian 7083 from the rumble of the inline piston engine, they were unmistakable. It was her, couldn't be anyone else. He sprinted across the grass ignoring the cries of his drill sergeant as he left his fellow airmen doing their push ups.

The sun was hitting its midday stride, hot on Rob's slicked black hair as he ran. Making it to the painted tarmac of the runway, his gaze was stuck to the horizon where a metal shape was catching the light along the taxiway. He pressed on, finding no obstructions as the airstrip had been cleared in preparation for her return. The smaller aircrafts had been housed in their hangars, leaving the aerodrome unusually empty of planes. Rob leapt over one of the taxiway signs like a hurdler and sprinted across the tarmac in the direction of Hangar 1A. The metal shape grew larger as the plane taxied its way past the last set of runway lights.

The Avian turned the final corner into the aerodrome itself and began making its way to the line of hangars against the far end of the complex. He was right, it was a small 7083. Rob caught sight of a teal flash in the cockpit, but the sun glinted too brightly off the chrome fittings for him to see her properly. His stomach gave a lurch. It's only been five days.

When he emerged through the fire door of Hangar 1A, his nose was met with the strong smell of oil and petrol. A leak perhaps. Nothing major. The plane had looked perfectly fine when he had seen it on the runway. Not a puff of black smoke was leaving its turbines. He hoped he could be the first to greet her, but as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the vast hangar, he was met with a large group of reporters from every major newspaper. At first sight of the aircraft entering through the sliding door, the press swarmed like locusts. Cameras began to flash, questions were shouted, notepads at the ready. Rob pushed through many of the photographers, inadvertently knocking the microphone out of a junior journalist's hand and sending the boy accidentally toppling to the ground.

As soon as the cockpit's glass door was pulled open, the shouts of her name began. Louder and louder they cried in hopes of getting her attention.

'Irelia, look this way!' 'Irelia, a quick interview for the Ionian Express!' Irelia!'

Their shouts merged into an eerie uncoordinated chant as every journalist eagerly tried to grab the young aviator's attention. Security guards from the airstrip moved the crowd aside, pushing daring reporters back with a firm hand and keeping cameras from being snapped in the woman's face. The security seemed to notice Rob in his pilot's jumpsuit as he wiggled his way through the crowd. The mustard colour of his overalls stood out in the sea of pin-striped suits. Some gave him looks, knowing that he only wanted to see her for personal reasons rather than business, but their duties did not allow for it.

Irelia stood up from her pilot's seat. She did not seem to notice Rob, but if her gaze had found him, she would have seen how longingly his pale blue eyes were staring at her. Her long hair cascaded in teal waves down her back. It had definitely grown since Rob had last seen her, and wasn't far from touching her waist now. Her figure was lean and disciplined, though matured with some years of age since they had first met as trainees.

She always looked amazing in her flying gear, he thought. Clad in a full pilot's jumpsuit identical to the one he wore, complete with furs around her shoulders and her flyer's cap still on her head. A spirited smile played on her lips, olive eyes bright with success and joy. She welcomed the press with a wave of her hand, bringing it up to the side of her head in a practiced aviator's salute. The photographers wasted no time in snapping their shutters. The pose would make for a perfect picture to go along with their planned front-page articles. Rob couldn't help but smile at her happiness, watching her wallow lovingly in the attention of the media. She deserved it all.

The crowd of bustling reporters began to weave its wave towards the door as Irelia was spared from their probing questions. Once she was safely behind the door that led to the offices within the complex buildings, the guards kept the press from trying to follow her. They stood either side of the metal doors, muscular arms crossed over their black uniforms.

'A press event will be held tomorrow morning,' the largest member of the security team said to the crowd. 'No statement will be issued tonight. If you could all leave via the front exit,' he said, gesturing with his hand to the end of the hangar where the late morning sun was streaming in from. The reporters seemed dissatisfied and continued to prod the staff with questions of the young aviator's record flight. No answers were given, only a scripted repeat of what had been said previously.

'Can I see her?' Rob asked desperately to the two guards at the door as he made it to the front of the throng.

'Not until the higher-ups have given the thumbs up. She'll be in the main offices for the rest of the day,' the burly man on the right said nodding his head to the door behind him. Rob looked over his shoulder for any other way to follow her. This was the only way in. He turned back to the man.

'She's my partner. Can I not get five minutes to see that she's alright?' The security guard just chuckled.

'Partner?' The security guard let out another throaty laugh. 'That's a new one. Everyone and their mother is claiming to be family. Won't get you past locked doors, boy.'

Rob gave the man a hard stare, before turning swiftly, intending to push his way back through the crowd of eager reporters. The other security guard, a much smaller man than his counterpart, put his hand on Rob's shoulder as he tried to move. Rob looked round to see the guard, recognising him as one of the regulars that did the night shift.

'She won't be out till late, lad,' he said with a softer tone. 'A world record comes with enough paperwork to keep one of these planes stuck on the ground. Full medical's required after a flight like that. All you can do is wait I'm afraid pal.'

Rob gave a nod of understanding and thanks, before struggling his way through the sea of suit-clad journalists.

…

The clock hit 2AM and Rob was sat on the edge of his bed. He hadn't slept, hadn't even attempted to sleep. He still wore the jumpsuit he'd put on for his training drills that morning and had only gone back to his dormitory room after giving up on chasing Irelia around the aerodrome in hopes of having some time to see her. Every time he got close, he was met by a locked door and a guard asking for tier one security clearance, which he did not have. Once the sun had gone down and even more doors were being locked, he resigned himself to waiting.

A half-lit cigarette burned to the butt in his hand, before he flicked it into the ashtray on his bedside cabinet. The room he slept in was empty save for a few mementos of home, some civilian clothes and toiletries. A single photograph of Irelia was propped up on his chest of draws. Taken with a borrowed camera, the picture showed her a few years younger, on the day she'd passed her basic training. She was sat on the engine of one of the larger aircrafts with the propellers in front of her, her legs to the side as if she was riding side-saddle atop a horse. She smiled wide and joyfully at the camera, a hand coming up to her forehead in a beaming salute.

His alarm clock sounded. He flicked it off.

Setting off down the corridor away from the residential area, Rob walked out of one of the fire exits. Outside it was a cool night, with a drizzle of sleet falling gently against a starry sky. The moon was out, though mostly obscured by thin wisps of silver clouds. White rays of light traced the lines of the airstrip, framed by the red flickers of the guide lights along the grassy sides. Rob wandered across the tarmac in the aerodrome, past the radio tower and onwards to the far end of the site. Sometimes he'd forget just how expansive the runway was, as he usually only saw it from the cockpit of a sixty-foot wingspan aircraft that dwarfed even the largest truck.

The hangars were connected by a series of training barracks for recruits and offices for the superiors. Most of the activity occurred sharply at 6AM in the exercise yards, and as such the place was completely empty late into the night. Rob unlocked the door with the key he'd earnt as a qualified airman once he'd finished the gruelling hundred days of basic training. He stepped into a small entryway where many jumpsuits and flight caps were hung up on coat pegs nailed into breeze block walls. The place smelled of bleached cleaning products that struggled to mask the scent of sweat from many exhausted past trainees.

His memories of this place were not always fond. The scream of a drill sergeant rang in his ears, the bustle of quick changing and washing to get out onto the strip as quickly as possible. Last out always resulted in a forfeit. But along with the memories of his recruitment, the building was mixed with the sweeter ghosts of the past that pulled at his chest and made his heart lose its rhythm. First kisses under an oil-burning lamp on the porch. Skipping training to spend time together hand-in-hand behind the hangar. Rob smiled as he walked.

A distant rustle of flowing water met his ears. Her routines never broke. He pushed open a door to a communal washroom, walking past several cabinets of lockers that lined the walls. All were locked, besides one that was slightly ajar. Always the one with a little chip of paint gone by its lock. A line like a single scar, or perhaps the letter I. He pushed the metal door of the locker open, finding a jumpsuit, blue t-shirt and trousers wrapped in a ball, along with some white underwear bundled into the compartment. A pair of knee length leather boots sat on the floor.

The suit was oily and stained in places as he pulled it out, but it kept traces of her scent. 91 octane gasoline and cherry blossom perfume. Who would have guessed they would go together? It was her working side, mixed with the luscious femininity that so many fell for, and none but him could have.

Walking past the lockers, Rob entered a large washroom where the showers were separated by a tiled wall partition. A shower was running, clearly washing someone under its stream as larger splashes of water could be heard hitting the ceramic. A gentle melodic hum mingled with the drone of the running water, soft tones of music emanating from a woman's throat. A lullaby.

Before long, the valve was turned and the shower spluttered to a finish. Rob listened as a few drips came off whatever wet body lay behind the screen. A dainty hand reached up and slid a white towel over the wall. With it wrapped around her middle, Rob watched as Irelia stepped out of the shower, hands wrestling with her teal hair as she wrung it out over her shoulder. She looked up and stopped, olive eyes meeting the sky blue of his. He folded his arms, but struggled to stop the ghost of a smile pulling on his lips. She stood still, hands falling to her side.

'Feeling better?' he asked, not moving from his spot. Her eyebrow raised. Slowly she made her way over to him, her bare feet pattering on the locker room floor.

'Much better, thank you,' she said, standing a few feet in front of him and looking up at his face. The same glint of joy that he had seen earlier lay in her green eyes, pink lips opening to reveal pearly white teeth. 'Glad to be clean of the grease that plane spits out.'

'Clean, eh? I'll be the judge of that.' He gave a motion with his fingers indicating her to step closer. She did so, flicking her hair behind her back. She held her arms out by her sides as he untucked the corner of her towel where she had tied it around her chest. He unfolded it from around her like two curtains being pulled open. His eyes began to wander over the ever-familiar lines and contours of her exposed body, keeping up the act of inspecting how well she had washed.

'Did you do here?' he said, running his fingers along her side. Her pale skin was warm to the touch and still moist.

'Of course,' she said with a hand coming to rest on her hip.

'Here?' His fingers lingered under her right breast.

'Definitely.'

His trailing hands slipped around her waist tracing the curve of her rear and pulling her into him. 'You always miss here,' he said as he cupped her cheeks. Only a couple inches lay between them as he allowed her to drape her arms around his shoulders, leaving wet patches on his jumpsuit. Her towel tittered on her shoulders, threatening to drop to the floor.

'You normally do it for me,' she said into his ear, laying her head in the crook of his neck. He squeezed her ass tenderly, as she stood on her tip-toes to reach his face.

'Well I'm afraid you haven't passed the cleanliness test. Looks like I'm going to have to take you back in that shower and make sure you do a proper job this time,' said Rob as they began to sway gently in their embrace, stray locks of her hair tickling his cheek. She giggled, gliding a finger along the black quiff of his hair and running it down along his jaw. He saw her eyes drift to his body, noticing the globs of engine grease and oil marking his own arms.

'If only you kept to your own standards, mister inspector.' Her fingers rubbed at the marks and spatters on Rob's skin, though he knew they wouldn't budge. 'I think perhaps I'm going to have to do a little inspecting myself. One order of warm water, soap and a deep clean for my hardworking airman here,' she said, confident voice laced with teasing notes. She took his hand and began to pull him towards the shower. He resisted ever so briefly, causing her to turn on her heels.

'Irie,' he said quietly.

'You know I hate that name,' she said. He shrugged, giving her a guilty look.

'I know. But it never fails to get you to listen,' said Rob. She pulled her towel back around her middle and came up to him again, taking his other hand in the process, thumbs running over his fingers. 'Did you do it?' Rob asked.

'The record?' she replied, looking up at his face. He nodded. A half-smile emerged on her pink lips, her olive eyes glinting in the low light of the shower room. 'Of course I did. And now I'm back.' She could tell that it had been worrying him. 'So you…'she began. Her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed down, forcing him to release the tension in his muscles. '…can stop your worrying.'

'Sorry,' he said sheepishly, feeling a blush of heat wash over his cheeks. 'It's just been…I've…congratulations,' he finally spluttered out. 'You really did it.'

'Yep, now come on. Boyfriend of a world record holder or not, you're still a dirty mess. Now there's a shower here with your name on it.'

'Think there is actually. Didn't we scratch something on one of the walls after that first flight day back in training?'

'Didn't think you'd remember that,' she said, dragging him by the hand towards the shower. 'I touched down on my first attempt. How many was it you took? Three?'

'Think it was four if I'm honest.' He went to grab her around the waist and carry her into the shower stall, but she stopped quickly, causing him to collide into her back. She turned and planted a hand on his chest.

'I'm afraid I'm going to have to stop you there, sir,' she said, putting on the voice of a tough security officer. Sounded a lot like the man Rob had seen that morning guarding the door. 'No clothes beyond this point. Going to have to ask you to drop 'em here, buddy.'

Rob didn't think twice. His pilot's overalls came off in a flash, dropping to the floor in a muddy yellow pile. He tugged his shirt over his head and dropped his trousers and boots until all he wore was a pair of dogtags on a chain around his neck. He stood and awaited her approval, arms crossed, allowing her all the time she wanted to trace his form and the muscles of his torso. She raised an eyebrow. 'Obedient, I like it. You may proceed.'

'Hold up,' he said, nodding at the towel still around her chest. 'Can't be a woman of the people if you don't follow your own rules.'

'Towels aren't clothes,' she noted.

'You seem to think they are. Off, come on.'

She pouted briefly before pulling the towel off. She held it out at arms reach and let it drop to the floor.

'Better?' she asked, allowing him a moment to see her in all her naked entirety.

'Much better.'

The shower head spluttered back to life as streams of warm water began to wash over the two of them under its flow. Rob could not stop his hands from grasping Irelia around the waist and pulling her back to his chest. He kissed her neck, brushing aside wet strands of aquamarine to find her skin. The arms that he'd wrapped around her middle were met with her own, tangling fingers and rinsing him of the grease. Soon, the warm water found its way to every inch of their bodies.

She turned, still within the embrace of his arms. Her face came up to mingle in the same air he breathed, her lips dancing along his cheeks, his nose and finally coming to give him what he had been missing. Their lips met, his hands reluctantly leaving the soft flesh of her sides and losing themselves in her hair.

'I knew you'd be here,' he said into her ear in the short moment between breaths. 'How long have we been doing this for now?'

'Every night before you have a rest-day from training. Since the day your friend George told me you had a crush on me,' she said. Their eyes were only inches apart, and every little movement she made caused their noses to brush together. 'We never fail.'

He smiled, flickers of nostalgic joy in his mind. He struggled to remain patient with her so close, quickly closing the gap and lifting her up. She let out an excited yelp as his muscled arms supported around her plump cheeks as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his back.

'And neither do you fail, my little world record holder.'

She laughed, giving him a cheeky wink. Pressing her back up against the tiled wall, he retook her lips with all the fervour of days spent without each other's company. His hands made dimples in the supple flesh of her rear as he felt dainty fingers take a hold of his now aching member and line it up with her folds. He hadn't realised how hard he had become from just the sensation of her touch and the warmth of the steam rising from the water but as her fingertips started to trail his length, it sent the heat of an unsated lust into his core. He felt her tense as he entered her, her muscles disciplined from training tightened like the string of a bow. Her grip rushed to his back and her nails dug red lines into his skin as she let out a breathy moan.

'Haven't let yourself go in five days?' she asked in between panting gasps as his pace began to increase into a rhythm. Her breath was hot on his shoulder as she lay her head in the crook of his neck, giving in to the sensation of him inside her. The shower head continued to stream, wetting their hair and gliding down their met skin. Rob nibbled on Irelia's neck, small mews emanating from her throat.

'As if I wouldn't have waited for you,' he said as he began to kiss the side of her neck while supporting her weight around her middle.

…

The bedroom was dark with only a sliver of dawn light finding its way through the gap in the curtains. Rob lay on his back, drifting idly in and out of sleep. He never slept soundly as things went, something that basic training had done to him he concluded. Although he did thank the hundred-day course for honing his body into surviving on only a few hours' sleep a night which had proved useful in his days as a junior airman.

Irelia was laying atop him, strands of her greenish-blue hair lingering on his bare chest. She had been holding his hand incessantly all night, her fingers stroking his thumb. It was clear to him she hadn't slept at all. All at once, he felt her get up, causing the floorboards to creak as she put her weight down. Rob opened his blue eyes, seeing through the bleary vision of a restless sleeper. Irelia had walked across the room to the one mirror held on the wall by a single nail. He watched as she inspected herself, but it was not the usual checking of her appearance she would do. She seemed to look through the reflection that stared back, arms loose by her sides. She gave up and paced the room for a few minutes before dropping herself back onto his bed and crawling up to lie on him again. He felt her breath tickle his cheek as she made it to his face. He brought a hand up to stroke the teal strands lingering over her eyes. She seemed to stiffen, startled to find him awake.

'You alright?' he said quietly into the dark room. She shuffled uncomfortably, nuzzling his chest with her nose briefly before turning her head away and looking at the curtained window. He did not push for an answer, but felt her give a small nod of her head.

'You didn't sleep much then?' she asked, bringing her head up to look at him. Rob brought his arms up and rubbed his eyes, before laying them back around her shoulders.

'Neither did you. You've been all over the place tonight,' he said. Her face softened as she gently laid back down.

'Feels like I live two lives sometimes,' she said finally after a brief silence, all traces of the confidence and courage he normally found in her voice gone. 'The skies and the ground. Down here and up there.'

He tilted his head to try and meet her eyes. 'And crossing between them leaves you confused?' he said. She looked at him, her eyes glazed and her lips dry. She nodded.

'Something like that. Either I dream to be amongst the clouds…or I long to be down here with you. I can never enjoy one without thinking about the other.'

'Sounds to me like someone's missing the adrenaline of a world record flight.' He gave her cheek a quick squeeze. 'Back down here with us groundies.'

'Perhaps.' She sounded less than convinced. Rob began to sit up, bringing her up with him. He propped his head up on the one spare pillow he had. Irelia shuffled in the bed to allow him to hold her again.

'Maybe you need a bit more of a balance. You're on the ground a lot as it goes. Take some more short flights to even it out,' he said. 'That way you'll feel more fulfilled and won't have to go long amounts of time without one or the other.'

'You wouldn't mind that?' she asked, laying a hand on his chest. 'You seemed to struggle with just this past five day trip.'

He blew some air through his lips.

'Oh was it that long? Didn't even notice. Flew past,' he said, smiling at his own pun.

She laughed, hitting him playfully on the chest. 'You can't even bear a day! Whenever I'm not draped all over you you're wandering around aimlessly like a lost puppy,' she said, sidling up so her face was inches away from him.

'Can you blame me?' he said. She glanced over his face, raising an eyebrow as he questioned her with his pale eyes.

'Not in the slightest,' she said before finally closing the gap and pressing her lips to his.

…

The conference room was alight with blinding flashes as photographers snapped as many pictures as they could. The room rose into a ruckus of noise and clicking cameras as the door by the front table opened.

Rob was stood at the back of the room, idly staring out of the window at the many light aircraft on the airstrip before the press had made their move. Irelia had left his room first thing that morning to prepare for the conference she was giving for the newspapers about her record. After a small lie in and a quick shower, Rob had managed to get himself into the press room and waited for her to show. The sound of eager reporters rushing to their feet broke him from his impatient daydreams.

As the cameras began to flash, Rob shielded his eyes from the bright lights. He'd dressed in his full gear, and so his flying goggles were around his neck and he considered pulling them over his eyes to protect against the white light. He watched as representatives from all the major newspapers, clad in pinstriped blue, black and brown suits stood up with cameras in hand. The more unprepared still needed to attach their flash lamps, and subsequently missed out on being the first that day to take a snap of the most renowned female aviator in Runeterra.

Irelia entered the room wearing her full pilot's jumpsuit. She welcomed the press with a beaming smile and a wave of her hand, bringing it up to the side of her head in an aviator's salute. Rob smiled as he could see she was making a show of it all.

The reporters did not stop their onslaught as she sat behind the microphone that had been set up for her. Though their fingers were raised in the air as if asking for permission to ask a question, they did not wait.

'Irelia, how does it feel to be the first pilot to cross the Guardian's Sea solo?'

'Did you encounter the forecasted storms over the Ionian coast?'

'What was your final flight time?'

The questions didn't stop until Irelia picked a single reporter to start the conference.

The noise died down enough for the young man to ask his question. 'Miss Xan Irelia, did you encounter any issues with your craft during the flight? There were worries that the Avian would struggle to complete the journey on a single tank of fuel.'

Irelia gave a dismissive wave of her, puffing her cheeks. 'All hearsay rubbish. The Avian could have flown back on the same tank. I never even entered the red!' Her words were bright and confident, shooting smiles at everyone in the room. She picked another question, this time from a female member of the press at the front. The woman's hair was tied in a tight bun, a notepad in her hands.

'There has been a lot of pressure on this expedition with some experts doubting your ability to complete the journey. How does it feel to prove them wrong?' the woman said.

'Amazing,' said Irelia, flicking a lock of teal over her shoulder. 'We live in a time where so much is possible, and the world is ever-growing. The only thing that holds us back are our own doubts. Push them to the back of your mind and take that first step. You never know what you might achieve.' There was a scramble of pens scribbling the quote down to go with their articles, or maybe even work into the headline in some way. Another reporter stood up.

'So with that said, what do you plan to accomplish next?'

Irelia's face lost a hint of its bright flare as she suddenly looked more concentrated and determined. She stood up.

'My father always liked the phrase "The sky's the limit". I am lucky enough to explore the skies as an aviator, but as of now I have only seen the slightest slice of what there is to see. Before I die, I wish to not only see the skies, but to conquer them. There is no time to lose. On the first day of Spring, I plan to take my new Lockheed Model Electra on the longest journey I can take it. To see all of Runeterra from above. I intend to conduct the greatest trip by air that one can take. The most difficult challenge there is, one that if I will succeed will stamp my name into the pages of history. I invite you all to support me in this expedition.'

Irelia stepped out from behind the desk, standing in front of the crowd so that all could see her.

'I plan to circumnavigate the world,' she said.

Rob felt the air leave his lungs.

The room seemed to take in a silent breath, before exploding into more shouts and questions as the reporters found their feet again. The revelation of Irelia's intentions was completely unexpected. Suddenly, the record she had acquired that day became second page news.

Fly around the world? Had she gone insane while crossing the sea? Rob's mind flooded with a thousand thoughts and worries.

His arms slowly came unfolded as the press piled over each other in hopes of reaching the front desk. Irelia had stood and was being escorted out by the security guards that were present. Rob caught only the flash of her mustard-coloured jumpsuit amongst the crowd as she made quickly for the door.

This is a two-parter, chapter 2 coming soon!

Hey all, Geist here. Been a little while.

This is an Irelia x OC story that I started way back in March when the Irelia rework was revealed, but I never really got anywhere with it. As I hope you can see, it's a loose allegory of Amelia Earhart's world record flight back in the 1930s, of which Irelia's aviator skin is based on. Being me, I wanted to smatter it in cheesy romance as well. I hope you're enjoying the concept of it so far.

As for other stories of mine, I have a few ideas for more smutty works coming in the future. I've been so busy with the writing I do for my degree and personally that I haven't had much time to delve into the FanFic side of things, and when I do I always just want to write romance/smut lol.

Keepsake of the Elemental is on hiatus indefinitely as the commissioner wanted to take a break. Apart from that, there's just a few one-shots I want to do.

If anyone cares, life is pretty steady for me as it goes. I'm comfortably busy and productive right now and a lot of the issues I was having towards the end of 2018 seem to be in the past. The new year is here and I'm looking forward. Hope you are all looking forward to the year ahead.

Commissions are still open, check my profile for details.