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xp_logsRemy and Wanda... are magicians. No, seriously. Also Wanda has forgotten to take her snacks out of her bag again. The contents of their carry-on luggage is fascinating.
The sniffer dog was sitting, alert and steady, attention firmly on his handler and the contents of one bag were in neat piles on the counter, and the customs agent poked through it once more time before marking the declaration sheet. "I see nothing to be concerned with here, sir. Ma'am, would you open your bag please?" The dogs very occasionally got excited about someone's leftover lunch, but this couple seemed... sketchy.
"But of course." Wanda's smile was slight and tired looking, a common look on most of the travelers faces that passed through any airport. After this many years, even if she didn't feel that way, she'd certainly perfected the "airport look". The bag in question was her beaten up, sun aged leather satchel; on the occasions she taught, her students called it her Indiana Jones bag. She pushed it towards the customs agent before she opened it, taking a step back to let him do his job.
The bag was emptied neatly and efficiently. The customs agent laid out several cheap novels, flipping through the pages of one with a bored shrug, and then moved onto the small bag of toiletries with even less reaction. He flipped through some glossy fliers, opened the tiny netbook laptop and ignored the couple utterly while it booted, and then finally, with a quizzical expression, held up the three pairs of handcuffs, the deck of playing cards and the metal hoops that had been wrapped in a soft cloth. He raised both eyebrows. "Honeymoon?"
"You are the one hundredth customs officer to make that joke. We should be handing out prizes." Remy said, with a touch of California drawl in his accent. He handed over a business card identifying them as Harry and Bonnie Schaffer, illusionists, escape artists and magicians. "We're performing up at the White Sands in Enmann for the next three weeks."
While the customers officer quizzically looked the card over, Wanda's smile blossomed as she leaned over slightly. "If you're wondering about my accent," she said, because the one thing Wanda had never been able to pick up was how to shake her obviously European accent, "I'm his exotic partner in crime. It is amazing how a touch of the old country adds such appeal to our show."
"Uh-huh... White Sands, nice place." The customs official muttered, as he put the card in his pocket and began piling the unusual objects to one side to make room for the rest of the items he was taking from the bag. Spare clothes, magazines, another set of handcuffs... couldn't these people check their kinky toys like every other traveler? He finally drew out a plastic zip-loc bag of something yellow and orange and shriveled, and frowned at the couple. "Genosha strictly prohibits the import of fruit and vegetables from outside the country." The dried mangos were probably what had set the dog off.
"Oh! I am so sorry, I did not think -" Wanda's hands fluttered in silent apology as she gave the customers office an apologetic look. "I was eating it on our way to our plane and I must have forgotten."
"Again." Remy said dryly. The customs officer tossed the fruit in the bin, and Remy leaned in, full of faux comradary. "I'll give you a tip. Being able to saw them in half later makes incidents like these a lot easier to handle."
The sniffer dog was sitting, alert and steady, attention firmly on his handler and the contents of one bag were in neat piles on the counter, and the customs agent poked through it once more time before marking the declaration sheet. "I see nothing to be concerned with here, sir. Ma'am, would you open your bag please?" The dogs very occasionally got excited about someone's leftover lunch, but this couple seemed... sketchy.
"But of course." Wanda's smile was slight and tired looking, a common look on most of the travelers faces that passed through any airport. After this many years, even if she didn't feel that way, she'd certainly perfected the "airport look". The bag in question was her beaten up, sun aged leather satchel; on the occasions she taught, her students called it her Indiana Jones bag. She pushed it towards the customs agent before she opened it, taking a step back to let him do his job.
The bag was emptied neatly and efficiently. The customs agent laid out several cheap novels, flipping through the pages of one with a bored shrug, and then moved onto the small bag of toiletries with even less reaction. He flipped through some glossy fliers, opened the tiny netbook laptop and ignored the couple utterly while it booted, and then finally, with a quizzical expression, held up the three pairs of handcuffs, the deck of playing cards and the metal hoops that had been wrapped in a soft cloth. He raised both eyebrows. "Honeymoon?"
"You are the one hundredth customs officer to make that joke. We should be handing out prizes." Remy said, with a touch of California drawl in his accent. He handed over a business card identifying them as Harry and Bonnie Schaffer, illusionists, escape artists and magicians. "We're performing up at the White Sands in Enmann for the next three weeks."
While the customers officer quizzically looked the card over, Wanda's smile blossomed as she leaned over slightly. "If you're wondering about my accent," she said, because the one thing Wanda had never been able to pick up was how to shake her obviously European accent, "I'm his exotic partner in crime. It is amazing how a touch of the old country adds such appeal to our show."
"Uh-huh... White Sands, nice place." The customs official muttered, as he put the card in his pocket and began piling the unusual objects to one side to make room for the rest of the items he was taking from the bag. Spare clothes, magazines, another set of handcuffs... couldn't these people check their kinky toys like every other traveler? He finally drew out a plastic zip-loc bag of something yellow and orange and shriveled, and frowned at the couple. "Genosha strictly prohibits the import of fruit and vegetables from outside the country." The dried mangos were probably what had set the dog off.
"Oh! I am so sorry, I did not think -" Wanda's hands fluttered in silent apology as she gave the customers office an apologetic look. "I was eating it on our way to our plane and I must have forgotten."
"Again." Remy said dryly. The customs officer tossed the fruit in the bin, and Remy leaned in, full of faux comradary. "I'll give you a tip. Being able to saw them in half later makes incidents like these a lot easier to handle."
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