Okay, due to popular demand . . . here is the first chapter of the first short story dealing with Cassie and George's life after they get married. The next chapter will be up in the next week or so. Let me know what you think of it!!

Flying the Muggle Way

Cassie started in her chair, realizing that something had changed but not awake enough to realize what it was. Suddenly, though, her eyes flew open wide and she stared at the empty chair next to her. He was gone! A lot of thoughts raced through her mind in the next few seconds, mixed in with several curse words. He had left her! True, he had threatened to do so before take-off, but she thought he wouldn't try it once they were actually airborn! Would he be able to come back? Where had he gone? Even more importantly, where was she supposed to meet him? And what if he splinched himself somehow? After all, apparating from an airplane could not be that easy. She didn't know any wizards in America she could call! And she had no idea if the magical governmental departments of either Great Britain or the United States kept tabs on wizards stupid enough to splinch themselves over the Atlantic Ocean! She was angry, too. She had known he was very nervous about this, but he had promised that he would stay. She had been very worried about going to sleep, but he had assured her that if something happened, he would wake her up. He had winked and encouraged her to get her rest. "After all, Cassie, I want you wide awake for tonight. Maybe all night." He had whispered that so low and seductively into her ear that she had turned bright red and had to fan herself for quite a few minutes. Well, she could only promise him one thing – if he had left her alone on an airplane on their honeymoon, he wouldn't need to worry about her staying awake because he would be sleeping in the hall. But mostly, she was just afraid. Not for herself; but for him. What could have happened to him?

"Excuse me, miss?" She realized the man was speaking to her and she looked up at him. "Are you looking for your young man?"

"My husband, yes. Did you see where he went? Did he leave a message of some sort?" The man across the aisle smiled at her like he wasn't quite sure how serious she was being.

"Uh, well, no. But I think he'll be back in a few minutes. If the line for the restroom isn't too long." Suddenly, another wave of hot color flooded Cassie's face and she realized where George was.

"Oh. Uh, sorry. I guess I over-reacted."

"A little bit. After all, once the airplane gets into the air, it's a little hard to just vanish into thin air. We're all here together until we land."

"Yes. You're right of course. It's just . . . well. He's a little bit anxious. He's never been on a plane before and I don't think he's enjoying it very much."

"I figured that out myself when his fingernails dug deep grooves into his arm rests." Cassie laughed. George had been terrified of the noise of the engines and the scream of the tires as the jet had taxied down the runway. She had held his hand the whole time, but she really was afraid he had broken the bones in her right hand. "You're more relaxed."

"I've flown a few times myself. It doesn't scare me."

"I fly all the time, but I still get a little nervous over the water. Those seat-cushion life preservers don't really look too reliable. He was absolutely right about that." Cassie smiled in embarrassed understanding. George had been quite incredulous when the stewardess had demonstrated the life-saving measures on the plane, insisting that there was no way any of that stuff would keep anyone alive if this "infernal machine" decided to land in the middle of the ocean. He had said this quite loudly and all of the other passengers in the first class cabin had smiled in a combination of amusement and empathy at his obvious nervousness. She had quashed the guilty feelings about how much these airline tickets were costing them by saying that he would be much more comfortable with the very large seats and personalized service of the first class area rather than stuffed like a sardine in the coach area. However, he didn't seem to really appreciate her point of view, as he insisted that the seat where he was expected to spend "nine bloody hours" was still too small for an actual human being to sit. Cassie at one point was tempted to tell him to go back and look at the coach seats if he wanted an idea of small confines, but decided that turning George loose on a planeload of unsuspecting, harried, cramped, tired people was probably grounds for being ejected from the plane with nothing but a parachute. Not that he would purposely do anything, of course, but if he started asking a million questions like he had done to her already, someone was liable to find the nearest emergency exit and toss him out.

"You're obviously an American. What were you doing in England?"

"Business. My company sells modular office furniture. It's very popular on both the continent and in Britain. What about you two? What are you two going to be doing in the States?"

"Our honeymoon." She blushed a little. She hated saying that because she knew exactly what everyone was thinking they would be doing tonight. And the fact they were right didn't make it any less embarrassing.

"Doing the Disney World thing, huh?" Fortunately, the man was diplomatic enough not to make a comment.

"Yes. I think George, my husband, will really love it. He's never been anywhere like that before." He nodded in understanding.

"And when did you get married?"

"This morning." He smiled.

"I see. Well, no wonder you're anxious to keep track of him, then."

"Keep track of who?" said the wizard in question as he sat down next to Cassie and put his seatbelt on. She had told him he didn't need to keep it on all the time, but he had either not believed her or not cared, because he insisted on keeping it fastened.

"You. I woke up and you were gone and I . . . got nervous." George laughed and intertwined their fingers.

"I told you I'd stay and I'll stay. We should be married at least a day before you get so cynical about my trustworthiness."

"I knew how nervous you were, that's all. Mr., uh, . . ."

"Berger."

"Mr. Berger was keeping me company while you were, uh, busy."

"Well, I went back to the loo. I had to use it, of course, but I also thought that maybe you and I could go back there for a private snog . . . but I quickly changed my mind. I've never seen such a tiny room. I could barely fit in there and shut the door. I considered standing outside and just-"

"George! Don't even say it!" Mr. Berger laughed.

"Well, it's true." George glanced at Cassie's watch impatiently. "How much longer are we going to be in this flying deathtrap anyway?"

"Only about another hour. I bet it won't be too much longer before we have to start getting ready to land. That can take a while sometimes." A stewardess came out of the galley at that point, wheeling her cart through the aisle. She was taking orders for the last beverages of the flight and also handing out the Customs Cards to all the passengers as she went.

"Your lovely bride told me that you only got married this morning."

"Yes, that's right. We did. And I foolishly agreed to get on this aeroplane and fly over the bloody ocean."

"Well, if I may say so myself, Florida is very nice. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time."

"Are you married, Mr. Berger?" Cassie leaned over George to ask.

"Yes, it's been, oh . . . nearly 25 years. I can't believe it's been that long. It seems like just a few days ago I was in your shoes, young man. And I can only hope that you will be as happy as my wife and I have been."

"Thank you."

"Now, what do you do? Are you still in school, or have you finished?"

George smiled and Cassie wondered how he was going to answer that question. She glanced at the stewardess, who was just at the row in front of them. She almost hoped George didn't have time to answer. "I actually never did finish. There was an emergency and my brother and I had to leave school rather quickly. However, we have done all right with ourselves since then." Then the stewardess was there and they couldn't see Mr. Berger across the aisle any more.

"May I get you something?" the stewardess asked the two of them.

"I'll have a Coke. Or, uh, actually. Make that a coffee please, with cream and sugar." The stewardess prepared Cassie's drink while George looked at the cart with the same disgruntled face he had had on his face each time the stewardess had come by. He had wanted pumpkin juice and was not impressed at any of the other offerings. He finally took a bottled water and the stewardess worked on the other side of aisle while George whispered in Cassie's ear.

"I'm glad you're having coffee. I want to make sure you are wide awake." Cassie flushed.

"Don't worry. I am. What about you?" George just laughed but before he could respond, the stewardess turned back to them.

"These cards have to be filled out before we land. Make sure you write neatly, please." She handed them the cards and a pen.

"What are these things?" George asked to no one in particular. Mr. Berger answered him although Cassie could have.

"They're cards to help the government keep track of who comes into the country. They'll collect them when we land."

"Oh." George furrowed his brow and looked at the card. Cassie patted him on the hand.

"Don't worry. Just fill it out like we did the passport application." He grinned and started filling it out. They were using her parents' address on the paperwork because theirs (in a wizarding neighborhood) was not recognized in official British government records. Same with the phone number, although Cassie had a mobile that she used frequently. It did have a nasty habit of not working when George was around, though, so it was rather unreliable. The stewardess moved on and George turned back to the Muggle across the aisle.

"We actually own a joke shop." He always liked to tell people this because he liked to see their reactions. They usually either looked scandalized or bored. Mr. Berger, however, just raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"A joke shop, huh? That's different. And you run it yourselves?"

"That's right. We do. And we invent all the products as well."

"Oh, my. That's very interesting. What sorts of things do you sell?"

"Mainly fireworks and candies at the moment. But our product line is growing."

"I'm in London often. I would love to drop by. Do you have a business card?"

"No."

"Yes." Both Cassie and George answered at once, George reaching automatically for his pocket. They looked at each other. Then answered again.

"Yes."

"No." George obviously realized that he couldn't really give this man one of his talking purple business cards. Mr. Berger was looking at them with a strange expression at their inability to decide whether they did or not. Cassie took over and picked up her purse.

"I actually have the business cards, dear. In my purse. I thought I would bring a few, just in case. You never know." They actually had two sets of business cards, which was absolutely necessary in Cassie's opinion. One was the regular set that Fred and George handed out to everyone they knew. They were large, purple, and spoke when you picked them up, often making slightly off-color jokes. The other set was vastly more sedate, plain black and white, except for the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes logo. This set had no address on it, just the website and email addresses. Cassie had had those made up and although George hated the things, he didn't complain too much in public. She opened her bag and looked inside. Along with her passport and George's and the traveler cheques and the usual debris that seemed to always accumulate during a trip, were four tiny boxes along the bottom, their suitcases, shrunk to a convenient size. She reached past those and picked up the small packet of business cards, handing them to George. She shut the purse again as he handed two of the cards across the aisle. "As you can see, Mr. Berger, we actually don't have a store front. We're strictly e-commerce." Cassie explained.

"Oh. And that does well for you?"

"Very well."

"Good for you, then. It's good to know there are young entrepreneurs out there. Makes me feel better about the future. I'll have to check the site out."

"Please do. And let us know what you think. There's a feedback link." Cassie didn't tell him that she did most of the work on the website since George had said that he ran the shop himself. Before Mr. Berger could really say anything else, the pilot came on and announced that they were starting to descend and that they needed to put their seatbacks in the upright position and stow their trays. The next 20 minutes or so were filled with the stewardess coming around to collect the assorted trash as well as make sure they were following the pilot's orders about having their seatbelts fastened. George pulled his tighter and double checked that Cassie's was securely fashioned.

The landing was fairly smooth and once they were on the ground, Cassie extracted her yet-again smashed fingers from George's sweaty hand. They both stood up and Cassie reached up and put her arms around his neck. "I love you, Mr. Weasley. Thank you."

"I love you, too, Mrs. Weasley. You're welcome. What are you thanking me for?"

"For coming with me to Florida."

"Well, truthfully, Cassie, I'd follow you anywhere at the moment. How much longer 'til we get to be alone?" Cassie kissed him softly. "Just until we get to the hotel. Maybe another hour."

"Another hour! Aaagh! I thought you said the hotel was close to the airport."

"Well, it is. But we have to go through customs and that takes a while, even at this late hour."

"What time is it anyway?"

"Cassie did some quick mental math. About 10 here. About 3 back home."

"You're going to fall asleep on me."

"I am not going to fall asleep. And if by some chance I do, I give you permission to wake me up."

George just growled in his throat. "Let's get going. The sooner we get to the hotel, the sooner we can . . ."

"Can what?" She asked with a completely innocent look on her face as they walked off the plane.

"Funny. Do honeymoon stuff, you know." She grinned.

"Yeah. I know. Just teasing you. I'm anxious, too, believe it or not."

"I believe it. After all, I'm irresistible. I've been having to fight you off me for months." Cassie laughed. It was true, though. The heat had been building between them for so long that it was going to be strange to be finally able to do all the things they had wanted to since they started getting serious. And she promised herself that she would tell him how much she appreciated his self-control. Later.

Cassie was thinking about what was going to happen when they finally did get to the hotel as George steered them right toward the customs area. All the other passengers headed over to the luggage carousels but everything they had brought was safely inside her purse. A Customs agent smiled at them.

"Welcome to Orlando. Anything to declare?"

"Uh, no." Cassie said, smiling back. This was easier than she thought it was going to be. But before they actually left the area, a very grouchy-looking woman held up her hand, stopping the two of them.

"Luggage? Where are your suitcases?"

Cassie gulped. Darn. She had meant to have George "unshrink" two of the suitcases so they wouldn't look completely out of place, but had forgotten in the haze of their earlier discussion. No one could blame her. George could be very distracting.

"Uh . . ." Cassie was thinking quickly, trying to decide how to explain that they had just forgotten they had to pick them up when George glared impatiently at the woman.

"We've got it all. She's carrying everything." Cassie's eyes widened. He couldn't have said anything worse and he didn't even look friendly and relaxed or particularly trustworthy.

"What he means is that I've got all the money. We're going to be buying things here. We didn't bring anything . . ." But the woman wasn't appeased.

"Step over here, please." Cassie cursed under her breath. But she stepped over to the table, dragging a now very disgruntled George with her.

"How long are you going to be in the United States?"

"Two weeks." Cassie said this hesitatingly but decided that there was no use lying to the woman. It was just going to get them into more trouble.

"Two weeks? And you didn't bring any luggage at all? Why are you here?"

"It's our honeymoon," George volunteered. "We didn't think we'd need many clothes." Cassie closed her eyes and wished she could have put a silencing spell on her new husband. It wasn't that he was trying to cause problems. He just wasn't used to dealing with government officials. Well, non-wizarding ones anyway.

"I see." But if anything, rather than causing her to smile and dismiss them, she looked even more suspicious. "I'll need to inspect your bag, please, ma'am." But it wasn't a question. Cassie looked at George trying to will him silently to do something, make the suitcases invisible or something, but he just smiled at her and didn't even look worried. She hoped he would suddenly cause a distraction, throw fireworks, turn into a canary or something. However, the woman dumped Cassie's purse out onto the table and looked over the contents.

She picked up the two passports and looked them over carefully, inspecting the pictures and their faces with narrowed eyes. She put those aside and another agent came over to join her. She looked at the package of traveler's cheques, just glancing through them without too much concern. "You shouldn't carry all these in one place. It's dangerous."

"Uh, yes. Now that we're on the ground . . . we'll split them up." She nodded as she continued to look through things. She pushed aside a receipt from something they had bought in the airport and some makeup as well as some aspirin which Cassie had tossed in at the last moment. Then, all that was left was the four small miniature suitcases.

"What are these?"

"Uh, well, see . . . um . . ." Cassie grabbed George's hand and squeezed. Now was not the time for him to speak up. "They're doll things."

"Doll things?"

"Yes. You know. For those highly collectible dolls . . . come with all the accessory items and things."

"So, you didn't bring any luggage of your own? But, you brought doll luggage?"

"Well, um. Like my husband said, we are going to buy what we need here. And I collect these dolls and he promised he would take me shopping for more doll luggage as part of his wedding present and I wanted to make sure we didn't get the same thing again and so . . . I thought I would bring what I already had at home." The woman didn't look like she believed Cassie but couldn't think of anything devious they could be doing with tiny suitcases, so what choice did she have?

"Do they open?"

"No." But then one flipped open as the other agent pushed on the latch and Cassie flushed. "I mean, No, I don't mind if you open them." The woman's face seemed to soften as she looked at the tiny little clothes and accessories. She picked up a tiny hairbrush and a set of hot curlers then looked down at Cassie's little shoes.

"These are incredible. I've never seen anything so detailed."

"Yes. And the stuff is very expensive. So please be careful."

The second agent bent closer to the tiny clothes and pulled out something that caught his eye. Cassie gulped hard but could feel the hot blood rushing to her face. "My, oh, my. This is interesting. Are the dolls anatomically correct or something?" He was holding up a very sheer negligee. True, it was miniaturized, but Cassie still didn't want her lingerie held up for everyone to see. That was strictly for George's eyes only.

"Do you mind? Put that back!" She chanced a quick glance at her husband whose eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head.

"Yes, my wife's, uh, doll's underthings don't need to be trotted out in front of an entire airport full of people."

"Well, there's no reason to get upset. I don't think anyone is going to get too distressed over the thought of a doll's nightie." George just scowled and the customs agent, perhaps sensing a storm brewing across the counter, stuffed the nightie back into the suitcase. He closed it and picked up a second one. He opened the next suitcase and both of them looked down at the contents of this bag. This was one of George's suitcases and the male agent reached down and pulled something out of it.

"A broom? Why would someone want a broom in their luggage?" The broomstick was minute, practically unrecognizable, but now that it was on his hand, that was obviously what it was. Cassie's eyes grew wide but she quickly masked her surprise.

"Well, of course, normally it doesn't go into the luggage. It's separate. There's a maid doll, you know, very popular. But, well, I had to put it with the other items. Otherwise, it could easily have gotten lost. It's so tiny." He nodded and it didn't seem to dawn on him that it was out of scale with the rest of the items. It was obvious to Cassie that George had shrunk it once to get it into the suitcase and then let it be shrunk again with the rest of the luggage. The agent put the broom back on top of the miniature clothes and shut the suitcase.

"Please wait here." The two agents took a step back from the table and conferred in low voices. By now, the other passengers from the plane had gotten their luggage and were passing through customs quickly. A few looked over at Cassie and George with interest, wondering why they had been stopped. George looked frustrated, but didn't say anything.

"You brought your broom?!"

George shrugged. "Well, you never know when it might come in handy."

"You think you are going to set out flying from our hotel?"

"No reason to get testy, Cassie. I wouldn't want to buy a new one if we should need one." He winked at her and bent close to her ear. "Besides. I seem to remember that you like to fly. Maybe we can have a romantic interlude on that broom. Then you'd be happy I brought it." Cassie turned bright red, trying not to picture exactly what he had in mind but before she could frame an appropriate response, the agents stepped back to the table.

"You're free to go. We can't really think of anything nefarious you could be doing with these tiny objects. However, we recommend that in the future, you travel with some conventional luggage. And maybe leave the doll stuff at home."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Cassie quickly gathered up all of the things from the table and stuffed it back into her purse scowling slightly as her suitcase, which hadn't been shut tightly, opened and everything fell out. "Great." But she just smiled at them and took George's hand. "Come on, George. Let's go. I'm tired."

They made their way out of the airport and the heat hit her like a wet blanket. George groaned as well. "Aah. It's horrible out here."

"Yeah. It's Florida. In August. Hot and Wet. Everyone told me to expect it."

"Well, you should have passed the message on to me. I would have worn my swim trunks." Where are we going now?" Cassie smiled at the thought of George traveling on the aeroplane in nothing but his swim trunks. And he would have done it, too, no doubt.

"We still have to get to the hotel. We've got tickets for the shuttle." George looked at the taxis lined up at the curve.

"Can't we take a taxi? They're bound to be faster. And more private."

Cassie looked at the line of taxis as well. It was true that the thought of a taxi was tempting rather than the shuttle. However, they already had the tickets.

"We don't have any American dollars, George. We still need to exchange money. We better just do the shuttle thing."

"Oh, all right. You don't think . . ."

"Well, I just wasn't thinking, I guess, when I made the reservations." They went over to join the queue for the shuttle and a few minutes later one pulled up. There were about 10 people wanting to get on and the driver came around and put all their luggage into the back of the big van. He looked questioningly at Cassie and George, but they just shrugged and Cassie said, "It got lost. They'll bring it out to the hotel later." George looked at her questioningly but Cassie just sighed. "It happens. Don't worry."

They both climbed in with everyone else and found themselves split up, Cassie in the back corner of the last seat and George on the middle seat between a boy who looked about 5 who was sniffling loudly as he was buckled in and a woman who was busily strapping a baby into a car seat on her other side. He glanced back and her, looking completely lost but Cassie just smiled reassuringly. The drive to the hotel wasn't very long and he wouldn't die up there. She didn't know about herself, of course. The heat and the humidity and the other bodies crushed close to her in the back row were all combining to make her feel suddenly very claustrophobic. She closed her eyes, trying to think of somewhere cool and open and force herself to relax, but then the shuttle pulled away from the curb and she opened them quickly. She would get carsick at this rate. She tried to focus on George on the long hot ride to keep herself from screaming. He had started talking to the boy next to him. Before they drove up to the entrance of the Grand Floridian where they had their reservations, the boy was asleep, leaning up against him. Cassie smiled at her husband as he disentangled himself from the little sleeping form. No one else got out, obviously going to other hotels in the Park. They both stood there looking at each other and Cassie suddenly felt shy.

"That was nice. What you did for that little boy."

"I just talked to him. He was a cute little kid."

"You're good with kids."

"Yeah. I'd like to have a few of my own. Let's go practice making some." Cassie flushed brightly and didn't know whether to kiss him or slug him.

"You say the most outrageous things, George Weasley."

"Well, Cassie Weasley. The way I think of it, I have been married for almost 18 hours and I still haven't been able to be alone with my wife. I deserve to be a bit outrageous."

"True. And I haven't been alone with my husband, either."

"Then let's get up to our room quickly and remedy the situation." He looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes. Wide awake. Let's go. We've still got to register."

"Oh, you're kidding me! Can't we just go up to our room?"

"No. We don't have the key or anything."

"Who needs a key? A simple Alohamora spell and we're good."

"George, come on. It won't take long."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Promise. We just need to tell them we're here and get the key."

It actually was a little bit more complicated than that, but not much. They had gotten a regular Muggle credit card for this trip which George wasn't used to using, but he didn't say anything too unusual and the people at the desk were able to take an imprint without too much problem. The bellboy was anxious to take their luggage up, but Cassie repeated her story about it getting lost by the airline and how they would be sending it along probably later the next day. That caused a bit of a problem because the clerk, wanting to be as helpful as possible, asked for their paperwork so that he could make sure all the luggage came when the delivery boy brought it. However, Cassie was able to talk him out of that which was good as they didn't have any paperwork to give him. She also cashed one of her small traveler's cheques and handed the money to George.

A few minutes later, they were in the lift and George wrapped his arm around Cassie, pulling her close and kissing her hard, completely ignoring the presence of the bellboy who was looking discreetly at the numbers as they climbed, trying his best to ignore them. "I'm never going to be alone with you, am I? I'm starting to think this is a conspiracy. I can hardly wait to see you in the larger version of the lacy thing that oaf pulled out of your luggage." Cassie felt another rush of heat through her body and she held tighter to him, afraid her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore.

"Just a few more minutes." His hand slipped under her blouse and she was startled at the heat of it. She'd felt it plenty of times against her skin in the past, but knowing that very soon they would be . . . she flushed and buried her head against his shoulder. She felt all tingly inside, anxious and nervous but mostly excited. "I want to be alone, too." George just smiled faintly and kissed her again.

The hall seemed never-ending but finally they were standing in front of the door to their room. The bellboy looked rather sheepishly at them. "Usually I bring in the luggage and show you around the room a bit, but as you don't have any luggage . . . "

"We'll figure everything out on our own, I think." George smiled at him broadly. "We appreciate your coming up here with us, though." He took the keycard from his hand and turned toward the door, concentrating on the instructions for getting the door opened.

"George, you need to tip him."

"Oh." He pulled the wad of bills Cassie had handed him earlier out of his pocket and looked at them. He had gotten more comfortable with paper money because Cassie made him pay for things when they went out to Muggle restaurants and other such places. But she knew that he was still not used to using it. And of course, American money was all green rather than the multicolors of British currency. "Uh, how much would be normal?"

"About $5 I would think."

"How much is that in real money?" Cassie smiled.

"About 10 sickles, more or less," she whispered quietly, still clinging tightly to his arm for support.

"Ten sickles!! All he did was come up in the lift with us and I didn't even want him to do that!" So much for quiet. He had said that loudly enough that Cassie was surprised other people in the neighboring rooms didn't poke their heads out to see who was yelling.

"George – it's not his fault the airline lost our luggage, after all. If he had carried all the bags up you wouldn't be complaining."

"But, but . . ." The bellboy was just standing there, not letting any expression cross his face. George handed him a $5 bill. "There." Then he winked at Cassie. "But when those suitcases arrive, I expect you to bring them up here free."

"Uh, yes, sir. Of course." Then he was gone and they were finally alone. Out in the hall, it was true, but alone.

"Open this door for me, would you? I can't understand how this is supposed to work!" Cassie took the card out of his hand and was surprised to feel it actually shaking. Or maybe that was her. She didn't know whether they were both nervous or scared or what exactly, but she didn't say anything, just slid the card in, waited for the light to turn green, and opened the door. Before she stepped through it, though, she turned back to him, lacing her fingers through his.

"You're supposed to carry me over the threshold, you know."

"That's at home, not . . ." But his voice trailed off. "Whatever it takes to get you in there." He swung her up into his arms and kicked the door more open with his foot. Then he strode through into the dark, quiet room.