MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

The plane finally took off, engines rumbling beneath them as they climbed into the sky.

Svetlana sat by the window, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring out at the clouds like they'd personally insulted her.

She hadn't said much since they boarded, just short answers and the occasional sigh loud enough to make her point.

Damon glanced over at her, one brow raised.

She was moody.

Not the silent, angry type, but the kind of mood where he could practically feel her biting back every sarcastic comment she wanted to throw his way.

All because they missed their first flight.

By fifteen minutes.

Mostly because Damon had insisted on grabbing an extra coffee and taking his time through security.

Now, here they were.

On the next flight out, delayed by hours, with Svetlana silently roasting him in her head.

He nudged her arm with his elbow. Nothing.

Then he leaned in closer, lowering his voice.

"You know… this is probably the longest you've gone without talking since I met you."

She didn't even look at him. Just gave a slow blink.

He smirked and bumped her again.

"I mean, I should've missed flights sooner. Peace and quiet. It's nice."

That got her.

She turned to him, glare sharp, but her mouth twitched like she was holding back a smile.

He kept going.

"Don't worry," he said, "once we get there, I'll make it up to you."

He waited a beat, then added, "Or I'll just buy you another plane and we won't have to worry about this ever again."

Svetlana rolled her eyes but finally laughed. It wasn't big, but it was real.

She shook her head and uncrossed her arms.

"You're an idiot," she said.

Damon just grinned, relaxed now that the ice was breaking.

He leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes for a second.

Then, without looking at her, he said,

"But seriously… I'll make it up to you."

And he meant it.

Svetlana's lips curled into a sly smile.

"So… should I start searching for planes?" she said, tapping at an imaginary phone in her hand like she was already browsing the listings.

Damon shot her a look, his grin fading into a deadpan stare, but only for effect.

"I'm not buying a plane," he said, dragging out the words slow and flat like he was making a statement of national importance.

Svetlana chuckled, shaking her head, finally leaning back into the seat and letting the tension go.

For a while, they just sat there, watching the clouds drift past the window. The hum of the engines was steady, filling the silence between them in a way that wasn't uncomfortable. Just quiet.

But Damon wasn't one for quiet. Not for long.

He turned his head toward her, catching her in his peripheral. "Ever been to Indonesia?"

Svetlana shook her head without looking at him, her gaze still fixed outside.

"No. First time," she said.

He nodded slowly.

"You're gonna like it," he said, his voice low, casual, saying like he had been there himself.

She laughed again, softer this time, but something about the way she glanced at him afterward was different. Like she was thinking about more than just the trip.

He caught it.

That shift.

"You know," she said, turning toward him fully now, "I have a feeling after this trip… things are going to be different."

She didn't say it in a heavy way. It was light. A passing comment.

But it landed.

And Damon stared at her for a second longer than he probably should have.

Different?

Did she know?

No, no one knew. He'd made sure of it. Victor wouldn't have said anything. Joey hadn't even been told.

But still…

He smiled again, slower this time, something deliberate behind it.

"Yeah," he said. "I was thinking the same thing."

He let it hang there, watching her reaction.

Svetlana raised an eyebrow, just a little, as if she caught something in his tone.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. It was all in the look.

She wasn't going to press him on it. Not yet.

And Damon wasn't going to give it away. Not yet.

But in that moment, sitting thirty thousand feet in the air, both of them knew they were heading toward something big.

Neither had to say it.

They both felt it.

Damon leaned back in his seat again, closing his eyes like he was done talking.

But his mind was racing.

Did someone slip?

He'd find out soon enough.

But for now, he was content to let the anticipation build.

The flight was shorter than they expected. Sleeping through most of it helped. By the time they both woke up, the plane was already making its descent.

Damon stretched out his shoulders, rolling his neck as Svetlana blinked the sleep from her eyes. Neither of them said much. They were used to traveling. Flights didn't excite them anymore.

When they stepped out of the plane and into the jet bridge, the heat hit right away. Not blistering, but humid. The air felt thick.

Svetlana exhaled slowly as they made their way toward immigration. Damon pulled his hoodie off and slung it over his shoulder. He was already sweating at the base of his neck, but he didn't care.

Ngurah Rai International was busy but not overwhelming. The lines moved fast, and with VIP clearance already set up, they didn't have to wait long.

A staff member met them right after they cleared customs, holding a small sign with Damon's name. She smiled politely, asked if they wanted anything, and walked them straight through.

Outside, it was even hotter. The sunlight was bright and sharp, reflecting off the concrete. The smell of gasoline from the lines of motorbikes was strong.

There were crowds, other tourists waiting on rides, drivers holding signs, and vendors calling out in Bahasa and English. The airport wasn't chaotic, but it was alive.

Their car was parked a short distance away. A black SUV, clean and polished. The driver was waiting beside it, holding open the door as they approached. Svetlana climbed in first.

The air conditioning hit immediately, cold and sharp. Damon followed, sitting back and closing his eyes for a second. The bottled water on the seat next to him was cold enough to bead with condensation.

The driver pulled away from the curb, merging into the traffic without hesitation. Motorbikes weaved between cars, horns blaring in short bursts.

Street vendors stood on corners selling grilled corn and fresh fruit. It wasn't quiet, but it wasn't overwhelming either. Just steady noise. Life going on.

Svetlana glanced out the window. Damon watched her for a second, then leaned back into his seat. They didn't talk much during the drive. They didn't need to.

They were here. Finally.

And the trip was only just beginning.