Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any character in this story. They are the property of Bill Watterson.

He told his parents he never liked flying, but his parents ignored his pleas for childish irrationality, Calvin peered out of the misted windows as dawn set in, for it would soon be his time, once again. The thick coat of darkness was slowly lifted from around the airport, the day would come to follow, the first glimmers of sunlight illuminated the features of the surroundings; gentle movement on the tarmac, the smooth turning of the radar dish, the idle aircraft, Calvin knew that in only a few minutes, he would be on the plane again.
It was an annual event, his parents dictated to him, he had to follow them out to Florida every summer to see his Aunt. Calvin pictured the sweet old lady, her tired features, the faint smell of corn muffins, he smiled at the memory, but soon fear rushed over him, engulfing what was left of his optimism. Hobbes lay on the chair beside Calvin, his head in Calvin's hand luggage bag, he always did like to sleep in, Calvin sighed, he was alone with his fear. His parents, tired and stressed from the late night packing; the finding, that last window you didn't lock. They sat straight, reading the newspaper, like adults do; even if it where the least interesting event that morning, they had to fill the stereotype; the newspaper reading parents. A harsh voice came over the tanoid, the shadow of an aircraft made dark shapes on the floor. Calvin's parents made rustling noises with their papers and began to stand up, Calvin mirrored their actions; he took a deep breath and grabbed his bag. Seeing Hobbes, still in the bag, he rolled his eyes and closed the zip, Hobbes was now firmly placed at his side,
He wouldn't have liked flying anyway,

There was a lot of waiting around, there always is, people queuing up, lines that don't lead anywhere, the soft sound of confusion and mild panic, it was the real airport experience. Calvin's legs grew tired, and his bag became a great weight on his shoulder,
"Dad," Calvin moaned, his father looked down at him,
"My bag's heavy," Calvin continued, his father looked impatiently down at him

"You wanted to take that big stuffed tiger all the way to Florida, you can carry it yourself," His father snapped, with no remorse, his father went back to being a disgruntled air passenger, Calvin scuffed his feet, feeling uncomfortable after receiving his scorn,

Soon there was action in the queue; the line moved into the dark tunnel, the sound of jet engines filled the air; the queue moved quickly onto the plane, it was us next,
"Good morning sir, do you have your boarding cards?" The flight attendant said, she smiled sweetly at Calvin's father, but he did not return the gesture, but trusted three, slightly bent cards into her hand.

"Thank you," she said and pointed up the long body of the aircraft, seats going back as far as Calvin could see. It was cold on the plane, the distinct, synthetic air filled Calvin's lungs, it was cold and unpleasant. He found his seat, but demanded the window, his reluctant parents waved him into position, he clambered clumsily over the arm rest, the subtle scorn of the other passengers was evident to Calvin's parents.
"Calvin, please! Hurry up!" his mother said quietly, but fiercely. Calvin sat still in his seat and began to fiddle with the window, his father opened his mouth to say something, but realised it was futile, a child can not be expected to sit still on a plane,

There was muffled sounds coming from below Calvin's seat, he jumped slightly in shock, but was calm in the fact he knew now what it was. He lifted his bag from under his seat and unzipped it, this uncovered a thick orange coat, followed by the head of an agitated tiger.

"Good morning," Calvin said, smirking at Hobbes's coat: The humidity of the airport, mixed with the entanglement of being in a small bag made Hobbes's coat poof out,

"Don't even say anything," Hobbes said, he looked at his limbs, and, in alarm he began to lick himself frantically, desperately trying to matt his fur down, but it was useless. He sat beside Calvin, folded is arms and stuck his tongue out, it was covered in orange fur, Calvin sniggered,

"Jerk," Hobbes muttered, but Calvin continued to snigger quietly to himself. Suddenly, a fist of orange fur collided with Calvin's small, pale arm,

"Oww!" Calvin yelled, he glared at Hobbes, who was now smirking smugly at himself, because, of course Hobbes had the physical advantage. The duo sat there quietly for a while, Calvin was lost in his thoughts, Hobbes was reading the in-flight magazine; Calvin's fear of flying turned to boredom. He looked over at Hobbes, who was now deeply engrossed in the magazine; his parents where sitting discussing insurance and curtains, the default parental conversation. Calvin looked out of the window, silently, he put his hand to the pane of thick glass and made a condensation hand print. After drawing a smiling face on the window, he looked around the plane. It was your average sort of plane: tray tables, uncomfortable seats, no humidity. There was a grinding noise, squeak and a pop; the average plane noises, the whirring of the engine, the attendants pointing at the emergency exits; it was going to be your general, mediocre flight. This calmed Calvin. The safety instructions had finished, it was time for take off. Calvin buckled himself in, and checked Hobbes had done the same. Hobbes huffed and looked at Calvin with those "of course I have" eyes. There was another sound, a dull thud, then the aircraft began to move. Calvin peered out of the window, they weren't moving very fast, just warming up. Calvin's anxiety grew once again, Hobbes patted Calvin's back in reassurance, they exchanged friendly smiles.

There was a sudden jolt of acceleration, Calvin's heart skipped a beat, but soon returned to normal. They still where not in the air, the plane began to speed up now, but just as quickly as it accelerated, it slowed to a sharp halt and turned. Calvin knew what was going to happen. He gripped his arm rest tightly and closed his eyes. The plane began to speed up, it was a steady speed at first; but the sudden force of the engine pushed Calvin back into his seat, soon the apex of speed was reached and the plane lifted off the ground. It climbed gently into the air, higher, until the wisps of the cloud where the predominant view from the window.

Calvin, still clinging on tightly to the armrest began to relax his grip. He exhaled quickly. It was over now. Feeling mildly embarrassed that such anxiety had come from such a minor event,

The whole plane shuddered, you know when it's bad when your parents look shocked, it shuddered again. The flash of the seatbelt sign came quickly on; Calvin began to breath heavily, he looked at Hobbes who had a look of nervous confusion in his eyes, the plane dipped slightly, the feeling in the pit of your stomach, the thought that the plane may never stop descending. It levelled out. The shuddering was less frequent now;

"Exiting!" Hobbes said giddily, he clapped his hands, Hobbes was always one for excitement, but in mid-air was too much for Calvin.

About half an hour had passed; the flight did not get any more exiting. It had been smooth, level flying for more than twenty minutes; Calvin grew restless. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to his parents,

"Are we going to land soon?" Calvin asked,

"Of course not Calvin, we've just took off!" His mother exclaimed, she looked at him for a while after, but turned back to her book. Hobbes was asleep now, the excitement of the take off has worn Hobbes out and he was now slouched over the armrest of the seat next to Calvin's.

Calvin smiled an evil smile,

Calvin reached down to his bag, it was significantly lighter now, the absence of the tiger made the bag easier to pick up. Calvin began pulling things out: a truck, some paper, a torch; the general items you put in your bag to fill it up; to seem important, but soon the magic marker appeared.

Calvin smiled again as he pulled the top off his marker and leaned towards Hobbes. His whiskers twitched involuntarily as he dosed,

The magic marker found its self closer to his face, it made contact, and Calvin began to draw a faint outline of a moustache, in Calvin's mirth, he lost control of his hand movement and prodded Hobbes in the cheek with the marker,

"Hey!" Hobbes shouted; his claws, of which were once in a dormant position, where now taking a more aggressive stance. He gritted his teeth and growled gently, but Calvin rolled his eyes and passed him a small truck,

"I don't want your stupid truck," Hobbes said, he threw it into the isle, it bounced once, and lay flat on the matted blue carpet.

"My truck!" Calvin said, Hobbes folded his arms again, but smiled gently as he congratulated himself on such a successful throw. There was no movement on the plane, the gentle conversation between passengers was barley audible over the sound of the loud jet engine. The stillness was inevitable, but it was soon shattered by a weak-bladdered old lady who, despite only being on board half an hour, needed to go to the toilet. She was sitting behind Calvin, she struggled to rise, but she managed. Only after aggravating three other passengers, she found the aisle. She hobbled down the narrow aisle for a few feet, but just as Hobbes turned back to face Calvin, the old lady was standing no more; the foot of the old lady willed to move, but it was caught on something, panic filled her face, and she was soon unable to control her body. Her arms flailed and her startled scream silenced all passengers. The lady fell, to the ground, bringing up a small yellow object. This object flew in the air and landed near Calvin's mothers seat. Curious, Calvin's mother picked up the odd object and studied it. It was your average yellow toy truck. She glanced at Calvin, but needed more proof to confirm her suspicion; she turned it over to reveal the bottom of the truck, and the words: "Property of Calvin, hands off" on the bottom. She held the object in her hand and slipped it in her bag. She opened her mouth to say something, but an attendant distracted her, as they attempted to stabilize the old lady,

"You will say nothing," she growled at Calvin, he was shocked that he had caused such an event, but smiled at Hobbes as he was unable to control his mirth.

Calvin's mother sighed and turned to his father,

"It's going to be a long flight dear," She said,

"you reckon?" he said, the old lady was on her feet now, but she stumbled on a man with a cup of tea, the contents of his cup was liberated over his pants,

"Yes." Calvin's mother said firmly.