A/N: As always I do not own "The Sorcerer's Apprentice"Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer do. Please do not forget to review at the end (of this chapter) as well.

Also many thanks to Spitfire47 for the beta help!

Chapter Two

Emily Stutler during the take off had practically shut her eyes when the plane left the runway. Her knuckles had gone white and David turned his head into her arm as well. When they reached cruising altitude, she saw David pull out her CD walkman and picked a Depeche Mode CD, she had to quirk a smile at that. They were her favorite band ever. She had opted for an early morning flight, so when they arrived it would be nighttime in the UK. That way her son and her could get a good night's rest. She didn't want to take a red-eye flight seeing as she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep on a plane at all.

Well, maybe her son could.

She got up, once they turned off the seatbelt light so she could move around the cabin and saw a lot of men in business suits and women sipping their tea. Here she and her son were in jeans and sweaters. She never felt so out of place. She knew her son could get nervous about a lot of things, but she could as well.

Like mother, like son.

She wasn't the one to be public to her son about her own insecurities, but she wondered if she was making the right decision. Her mother, Greta Aldercroft (she still went under her husband's name), had told her that she wasn't sure if this was a good idea for her and her son. Her grandmother, however, saw how being an illustrator for a top English children's literature firm in the UK could be a good start over for her. This way she could start writing her own children's books and do the illustrations as well.

The main reason she got into illustration in the first place.

She had a project on the backburner for several years now. It was a different take on Arthurian legends. But she had to stop it, so she could work on her other projects that were giving her a paycheck.

If she was honest with herself, after George's death everything seemed to be on the backburner—until this opportunity came up. She wanted Dave to be happy, and he was close to family in New Jersey and living in the city and having friends like Bennet, and his mother Jackie and her husband Tom. Bennet's family was always kind to her and Dave. She reflected that this had to be hard for Dave. He was excited to go somewhere new when they went on vacations. This change was more than a vacation and after a few weeks the previous excitement her son had would turn into worry and homesickness. She hoped that he would make at least one good friend while he was there.

Every parent wonders if they are doing the right thing regarding their lives and their kids. She wasn't an exception to that rule, and she was not young anymore nor middle age either. She was taking Dave across the pond for her own job transfer, and taking him away from stability of friends and family. Dave was a smart kid. It didn't surprise her since George had been wicked smart too. She as well, but not to George's capability.

Someone even joked that Dave had a Charles Wallace thing going for him; she gave her friends a funny look when they made that comment. She didn't want to become a Meg Murry and save her son from an evil man on another planet and use a tesseract to travel. She shook her head, why was she getting into fantasy and fictional worlds? That was her thing after all.

When she was finished in the bathroom, or the toilet or water closet (she would have to get used to the different names) she saw David tapping his foot and reading his X-Men comics. She shook her head, as she was walking back to her seat there was an unexpected turbulence and the cabin shook, and of course she being a klutz as times, lost her balance balance and heard a loud splash as her thigh hit a tray table.

Damn and she never swore (in front of her son or much for that matter). She looked at the man sitting behind her (whose tray table she hit), and saw spilled water on what she assumed was his leather jacket. Water on leather, not a good combination. Knowing she was in first class, she wouldn't put it past that coat has probably cost a pretty penny.

Money she didn't really have at this point in time. She was so totally screwed if this man turned out to be like most rich men she encountered. Totally self absorbed and would scream at her for being such a klutz and ruining an Armani jacket—or something to that letter.

"Sir, I am so sorry," she was waiting for the man to say that she should watch what she was doing and he looked between her and his coat.

"It's fine things happen, and don't worry about the jacket wouldn't be the first time something happened to it," the man said he looked at her with kind eyes and she grabbed some napkins she had and helped him clean it up.

"I should watch where I was going, I don't normally like planes," why did she tell him that?

He gave her a humored smile, "I said don't worry, this old coat has been through…a lot, a little water won't hurt it," what she didn't see though, was that he waved his bejeweled hand and there was a faint green yellow glow and the water was sucked out of the leather jacket.

"So what brings you to travel to England," the stranger said to her. He seemed rather nice and amiable, if a bit scruffy. Long honey, blonde locks and an overall scruffiness. He wore a green vest, a worn grey tunic, grey arm warmers, old style black faintly pinstriped slacks, and quite curiously of all, his shoes were pointed. Well, the Brits could be very strange indeed.

"Business, or rather I got a job up in the Northern England as an illustrator. My son, Dave, and I are moving from New York City," she said. She realized that he wasn't sitting next to anyone. She thought first class would be sold out; maybe he was waiting for his wife to come from the washroom.

"Would you like to sit down?" he queried. She saw her son had taken off the walkman and grabbed a pillow to sleep on. It wouldn't be a bad to talk to the man, if anything it would make this long trip feel shorter. She told him to give her a second and went back to her son. She readjusted his head so he wouldn't get a creak in his neck, and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and went back to the kind man.

"How old is he?" the stranger asked curiously. She looked at him.

"Don't you think we should introduce ourselves?" she asked him back and he gave her a grin—although a slightly guarded look.

"I'm sorry, you can call me… Balthazar, Balthazar Blake," he said and she raised an eyebrow at his name and went with it. She also thought about the hesitant manner at first, but then decided to tell her. How odd.

"Emily Stutler, pleasure to meet you Balthazar Blake" she said to him as they shook hands. Emily didn't notice the rings on his hand seeing the hand she shook didn't have any rings, rings he previously removed a minute earlier.

"Pleasure as well Mrs. Stutler," Balthazar said and she nodded. He moved to the window seat and told him her son was eight years old, his ninth birthday would be coming up in a few months.

"I have a daughter who's eight as well," he said wistfully and she was interested—in his daughter that is.

"What's her name?" she asked and soon they talked of their kids. His daughter Rebecca and her son Dave. Then the topic of conversation turned to what they each did, he said he worked for a firm up North, and she an illustrator and showed him some of her works. He seemed highly impressed that she was working for one of the top illustrating firms in the UK. He said he knew the man who ran the firm and he knew talent when he saw it. She asked him what her boss-boss was going to be like, considering she got contacted by Margie who was in charge of recruitment.

His answer? That he was a righteous man and cared deeply for those he loved, and for the world itself. She smiled and thought that was exactly the kind of person she wanted to work for, not someone who wanted to take talent and exploit it for their own profits. She had been there too many times to count.

He said was in New York for business, and hiring a new employee for his firm, which also happened to be up North as well. She told him her and her son would be in London for a few days before they headed up North. When she and her son eventually got up there they would be renting a cottage. That way, if anything happen she wouldn't have to worry not knowing if this was going to be permanent or not. He thought that sounded like a good idea, and a way to get over the inevitable jet lag she and her son were bound to have.

He told her he would be in London for a few days as well and asked her where she was going to stay. Truth be told, it was going to be at a little B &B a friend recommended to her. He thought that sounded nice and recommended some places that were kid friendly and had good adult food as well. She smiled and appreciated his help.

She found out he was married, of course he would be and not that she was interested in him to begin with. They were both parents and that was their common bond. When lunch came she told him she was going to go back with her son and he understood.

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She seemed like the person he believed her to be, a woman who held steadfast to her beliefs. He could easily see the love that shone in her eyes regarding her son. The same he had for Rebecca, or Becky as she affectionately liked being called.

He didn't tell her that he was one of the owners of the firm she would be working for, it would be better to tell her later.

He had his suspicions about them, not in a bad way, but in a very, very good way. He had been searching for a long time, a very long time for a descendent of his master. He had been trying to find his master's heir for so long. It was a difficult task, though that was putting it lightly. He had come to New York City and, either through fate or his own two feet was brought to a small firm producing exceptionally illustrated children's books. When he saw the name, well he wanted to find as much information as he could.

She apparently won a Newberry medal for her artwork and had redone a version of The Hobbit, her forte, he quirked an amused smile at this, was fantasy and anything dealing with another world. He saw a picture she drew of a unicorn to a wondering wizard. He brought back a few of her works she illustrated for his daughter, knowing she would spend hours looking at it.

Not to mention, he himself, got caught up in her illustrations from the dragons and the intricate scale work, to just some of the other creatures she drew (even if incorrect he had to give her credit for at least giving a good amount of detail).

But things were not as easy as he would like them to be, he was still out there. He had the doll for now, and Veronica had been diffused from that prison. Morgana, however, was still in the grimhold (at least for now) with the other two occupants he caught, Abigail Williams and Sun Lok. Horvath was still out there, in the shadows and his sources told him somewhere East. He knew he would strike and soon, but he hoped he would find the Prime by then. He saw the mother and her son sleep together with his little head on her shoulder.

He would keep an eye out for them, even if he didn't believe they were the ones he was looking for. He had fought for over thirteen hundred years for people like them, and he would never stop.

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Dave Stutler never really liked planes. When the plane left the airport he buried his head into his mother's shoulder. Once, the plane evened out and things seemed to be stable he gave a sigh of relief. He thought that maybe listening to some music would distract him from being miles up in the air. He wasn't afraid of heights, but compressed places and well….he couldn't help but wonder if something bad would happen on the plane? Like the plane blew up or someone took the plane over and crashed it into something?

He shivered; he hoped that would never happen.

He grabbed his mother's CD collection and his as well, they had a combine collection. He looked through his CD's from Disney movies to the Beach Boys and other and smiled when he found his mother's Depeche Mode CD. He liked their electronic beat, not that he knew much about music in the first place seeing as he was only eight years old.

He also took out one of his editions of X-Men and sat back. The nice lady attendant came by and asked if he would like any more juice with a wide smile and he shook his head and said thanks. He saw his mom leave and she told him she would be in the bathroom.

As he was reading his comics he was wondering what was going to happen to him while he was up in England with his mom. He had thought these things earlier but continued. This was a big step for him. Would his teachers like him at his new school? Would he have friends? He had a hard time making friends in the first place, and Bennet was his best friend and only friend back home. Even if he was obsessed with wolves.

His mother, he knew, wasn't happy at her last job for the past year but tried to hide it from him. His mom once told him he couldn't lie to save his life, and he thought the same thing about his mom. He knew this move was good for her, but he wondered if this was good for him too?

He liked travelling to new places, but—well things just didn't feel right. He wondered what his dad would have thought. His father died when he was one year old, and was told his father would love him and still does.

Would he love his own son knowing he couldn't throw a football? A lot of boys laughed that he was better at math and science concepts than sports. His mother told him it was better to be smart, than to be good at sports. It got you further in life. He wasn't so sure, he was pretty sure he couldn't even kick a soccer ball (or football) either.

Every time he thought about his dad and the doubts of him, he would get this little flicker of warmth reassuring him that he didn't need those thoughts. His mom said that he needed to be sure of himself and to learn to be more assertive, or to stand up for himself. Maybe this would happen in England.

He could only hope.

When she came back and was about to go into her seat Dave felt the plane shift and tremble. He gripped his chair out of panic. His mother, on the other hand, bumped into the seat in the back and he saw a look of complete terror on her face. He couldn't hear what was going on and decided to "pretend" to be asleep so he took some pillows and laid them on his left shoulder.

His mother was apologizing about spilling some water and the man, who, Dave could sense, wasn't bothered by it and seemed…amused? He started listening to their conversation. He knew it wasn't a good thing to eavesdrop, but he wanted to know what was going on. His mother came back around to adjust his neck and he let her. She was always fawning and making sure he was okay. She went back to the man and introductions were made, and the man introduced himself as Balthazar, Balthazar Blake.

What a weird name? Dave thought but his mother told him that people in England would be odd at times. He took it with a grain of salt and heard the man had a daughter who was his age named, Rebecca, or rather liked to be called Becky.

Becky…what a wonderful name. The man was describing her, blonde hair, blue eyes, cute button nose. He had a silly grin on his face, but then frowned. It sounded like the type of girl who wouldn't give him the time of day.

Then his mother went into talking about her job, and the man seemed impressed with his mom. His mom was a much better artist than him, he always got dejected when drawing and looking at his mom. His mother laughed and said that she had to work really, really hard to get where she is now. She just told him to keep practicing and in no time he would be better.

Tell that to his drawing of a dinosaur that looked more like a cross between a large rock and scissors combined. The man seemed nice enough, though he remembered a boy named Bradley back in New York City told him that some guys tricked woman for other things to "use them" or something. Bradley announced that he heard this from his older, high school sister and his older brother said that he "scored" a girl on prom.

What would a guy want to use a woman for? Except maybe to cook. His mom was a adept cook after all. He always made a mess in the kitchen. Even when making chocolate chip cookies with his mom. He was hopeless. He didn't listen to Bradley, he thought he was all tough and stuff, but he happened to be the biggest scaredy cat. He hated spiders, what boy hated spiders? That fear was a girl thing. Even his mother didn't like spiders.

He saw his mother come back around and closed his eyes.

"Dave, our lunch is here," she said with a soft smile gracing her features and he opened his eyes with a smile.

"Had a good nap sweetheart?" she said. She slid back into her seat and he nodded. He felt bad that he eavesdropped on his mother and he saw that look in her eye seeing that there was something else going on, and that maybe she wasn't as blind as he thought.

He wasn't a good liar, as he said earlier.

"You didn't take a nap did you?" she wasn't accusing him of anything it was just a statement.

"Ah'm sorry mom," he said as he bowed his head down, knowing his mother to pick up why he was sorry.

"I'm not mad sweetheart, besides it's not like we were talking about really grown up stuff anyways. He's a parent like me, and he lives in England with his wife and daughter who is your age," she smiled and they ate their lunch he asking his mom if there were any cool science museums in England or London, and she said she believed there was one. She brought out her Frommer's Guide and looked at the different places in the United Kingdom.

"Sometime we need to get to Dover to see the White Cliffs and Dover Castle, and Canterbury to see the cathedral as well. You know there was this man who wrote about these pilgrims who went to Canterbury named Chaucer, we should also see if we can make it to Manchester for more than just a quick train hop. I know a friend of mine who wants me to get him a Manchester United shirt," his mom said to him and he didn't know who Chaucer was or what Manchester United was either, but he liked that his mom was exited.

He liked seeing his mom happy, what child didn't?

Truth be told, he was really scared to go to a new country and wouldn't know anybody there, besides his mom of course. When they finished lunch he looked out the window and saw clouds, nothing but clouds. Clouds to him were ever forming, ever moving and he thought about how he used to go to the park with Bennet and watch the clouds. He wouldn't be able to do that in England, at least with his only friend.

He asked his mom if she could get his other comic book from the overhead bin. She said she would and got out of the seat to get his bag she put up there for him. She looked like she was having some trouble with it and the attendant was busy with another person. He saw the man behind them get out of his seat and helped her. She gave him a wide smile and thanked him.

Unfortunately, Dave forgot to tell his mom he didn't close his backpack all the way and when they opened the bin two rather heavy comic books spilled out onto the man, who caught them before they fell to the floor with ease.

His mom blushed,

"I'm sorry I should have checked to make sure his backpack was close, sometimes he forgets to zip it up all the way," the man, however got onto his knees and handed him his comics,

"You're an X-men fan?" he asked. Dave didn't know what to do because he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers. He looked to his mom, who in return nodded her head saying go ahead to answer the man's, who he assumed to be Balthazar's question.

"Yes sir," he said timidly. He could get mighty shy sometimes. Especially because this man looked different with his wild hair, and did he really have rings on his hand? He knew there were some kooky people in New York City; it seemed that England would be no different.

That comforted him—a tiny bit anyways.

The man had an amused smile on his face,

"I'm a fan as well, who's your favorite character?" his mom quirked her eyebrow at this and joined her son on his seat, he was currently in her seat.

"Wolverine," he said he always liked the Canadian and the claws were cool too.

"He's a cool character, though I'm more of a fan of Gambit myself but that is just me," he said as Dave took his comics from the nice man and he said his thanks and the man ruffled his hair. He was nice, and he was good but he didn't know why he thought that.

Maybe because good guys liked X-Men? But Bennet was good and he didn't really like X-Men that much, he was into Superman.

"Gambit fan huh?" His mother asked. Balthazar he just shrugged his shoulders. He knew his mother liked the relationship between Gambit and Rogue, but he didn't really care about that. He just went back to reading his comics and listening to another one of his mother's CD's she had. Currently he was listening to the soundtrack for Fantasia because his mom said he needed to know what classical music sounded like.

Right now he was listening to the song where Mickey takes the sorcerer's hat and he makes the brooms come to life. He always liked that short animation scene; his mother told him it was based off a poem.

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Emily Stutler, for the second time that day was grateful that the man sitting behind them wasn't the kind of man to get upset when a cup of water falls over or when her son's comics books flop down on his head. She really needed to make sure Dave's backpack was zipped up all the way.

When he handed her son his comics and told him he was a fan himself, it seemed to calm her son down who normally got scared out of his wits when meeting people he didn't know.

A Gambit Fan, huh?

She looked back at him,

"Gambit fan huh?" she queried he gave her a lopsided grin.

"What can I say, the card tricks he does are cool…especially when he charges them up," he added cryptically. She didn't catch the second meaning in that last part.

She saw on her watch that a few hours had passed and an announcement was made that they were about 100 km outside Heathrow. She knew in airplane speak that wasn't terribly far.

"Thanks for the help with the compartment, I don't know why it was giving me trouble," she said and Balthazar just shrugged his shoulders.

"Sometimes those things just need the right persuasion," Balthazar said as he sat down in his seat again but she saw him dig around in his brief case.

"I must have forgotten, but where did you say you and you're son were staying again?" he asked. She told him for a few days in London at the B&B, but then up North towards Northumberland in a small village in a country cottage. She told him the number and his eyebrows rose.

"That's not terribly far from where my family and I reside, here I'll give you my address if you need any pointers or help moving in. Not to mention, I'm sure Becky wouldn't mind to have another playmate," he said with a smile.

Emily wasn't sure if this was a godsend, or if this was the first impression of English hospitality but here was a business man going out of his way for her. But…no he was married and she wasn't giving him any sign in anything differently. When he talked about his wife she knew he had a sappy look on his face. She knew that look fairly well.

She said she didn't have a phone number just yet, and he said that was fine, but would give him his. He did say he would have been happy to have dinner that night, but he had some business to attend to.

Emily said he did more than enough for her and David already.

Little did she know that he was the one who paid for her and her son to sit up in first class, and was her new boss as well.

The seatbelt sign was turned on and she returned to her seat, address in hand, and gave many thanks to Balthazar Blake.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please click that blue button that say "Leave a review" if there is anything that is on your mine, or want to see improve do not hesitate at all! I am all for constructive criticism.