Standoff! At 30,000 Feet

He had hoped the feeling would pass if he just sat still and ignored it. But it hadn't. The activity towards the front of the plane and the dip he just felt in his stomach only made it worse. They were descending. They were descending, and he knew that now was the time. One of them would make a move.

He had spotted the two of them a few minutes ago. They weren't doing anything particularly out of the ordinary, but his current state made him hyper-aware of other people's nervous energy. Perhaps his own anxious mindset enabled him to tune into their mental frequencies. Whatever it was, he had singled them out and now he couldn't not notice them.

They were both sat a few rows ahead of him. He noticed the one on the right first- the one slightly closer to him, tucked away in a window seat. He could only really see the back of his head and his shoulders, but he could see enough. The man had begun to fidget, shifting his weight from side to side in his seat. He was agitated. The woman to the left, one row ahead and on the opposite side of the aisle, was less animated than Mr Fidget. She was squeezed into the middle seat of her row but had shifted her weight firmly over to her right side. This is what caught his attention. She seemed primed, like a cat ready to pounce. Her body weight pushed down through her right arm as it leaned against her armrest. She was waiting for her moment, then she would spring into action. There was currently too much commotion up towards the cockpit door for her to make her move, but he knew as soon as she saw her opening, she would take it.

Presumably, so would Mr Fidget. Ms Locked-And-Loaded had very quickly turned around to survey the passengers a few moments ago and he saw the two of them very briefly lock eyes. They were synced and both just waiting for the right time to act.

He had seen them both, but neither had noticed him. This, and the fact that he had an aisle seat, were perhaps his only advantages. They were closer to the front of the plane than he was, but he could begin moving quicker than them when the time came.

He had now completely given up on trying to ignore his anxieties and hoping it would pass, hoping it would all be ok. The plane had lurched downwards, the sound of the engines was different now and he had felt the sudden change in cabin pressure. They were getting ready to land. It was now or never; he had to make a move. Before Mr Fidget and Ms Locked-And-Loaded made theirs. Before it was too late.

His eyes flickered between the man on his right, the woman on his left, and the bodies shifting and mingling by the cockpit door. The plane was descending ever more rapidly. His heart was pounding, and his breathing became faster and more shallow with every passing moment. A bead of sweat began to form at his hairline. They were closer, but he could get off the marks quicker. He had seen them, but they hadn't seen him. He had an advantage, he kept reminding himself of that. Over, and over as he waited for the moment to come.

Finally, it came. The bodies by the cockpit shifted, and now there was an opening. They'd all seen it and began to get to their feet. Ms Locked-And-Loaded pushed through her resting arm and into motion.

It was time to capitalise on his advantage. At the same exact moment, he rose into the aisle and began to stride forward. He moved as quickly as he could while trying not to look panicked or like he was rushing. As Ms Locked-And-Loaded had risen, the woman sitting next to her instinctively began to shift her weight to let her pass. The man marching down the aisle knew that his success or failure depended on how quickly this aisle lady could react and move.

To his immense good fortune, it wasn't quickly enough. He passed her a split second before she swung her legs into the aisle to let her fellow passenger pass. He could feel Ms Locked-And-Loaded stare a hole in him as he sped past her towards their shared objective.

Ultimately, Mr Fidget didn't factor into the equation at all- the disadvantage of his window seat was too much for him to overcome. He had barely even managed to get out the first three words of an "excuse me, can I just squeeze past you there" to the person sitting next to him before the man he had no idea had been watching him for the past few minutes glided past his row towards the cockpit. A man who slid through the door that had just recently switched to 'vacant' ahead of both his rivals, pushing the lock shut once again to 'occupied' as a friendly announcement came over the PA system that the captain had turned on the 'fasten seatbelts' sign for landing... and that the toilets would now be out of service for the remainder of the flight.

An announcement he could triumphantly ignore, because he had made it. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy his sweet, relieving stream of victory before returning to his seat, passing his humbled, dejected adversaries, and duly fastening his seatbelt for their final approach.

...while he revelled in his victory, he did realise in hindsight that he probably should've just checked if the toilets at the back of the plane were free if he was that desperate.