Hello, Hello. :) Well guys, I actually managed to write the new chapter for this and will try and tackle the next chapter tomorrow ;) We're on our way back to New York and lets see what our favourite group is getting up to, shall we? Please read&review and let me know if you're still interested.

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me...but they make a lot of things easier ;)

Chapter 9:

There was an eerie silence on the Island when C.C. awoke the next morning. Tiredly she turned around and switched off the annoying sound that was emanating from her alarm clock. The red digits read 5:00 and between her 3 hours of sleep, the planning and the smug butler, the prospect of a 6 hour flight to New York didn't serve to heighten her spirits. For a moment she contemplated to simply remain in bed, the covers thrown over her, so she could ignore the rest of the world. She hadn't asked to be in this difficult situation with Niles, not asked to have to deal with another eccentric artist and certainly not asked for a quick flight to New York with all of them in tow. But the moment passed and C.C. found back to her old pragmatic self that told her to just get her ass out of bed and deal with whatever life was throwing at her.

She showered and then dressed in one of her business outfits and then packed the remainder of her suitcase, before exiting her room. The hotel was quiet as she made her way down the corridor and towards the stairs. Sighing she looked around feebly for a bellboy who'd carry her luggage, but found none and decided that she'd simply have to do it by herself. This endeavor went relatively smoothly, until almost at the bottom of the staircase her heels dug deeply into the plush carpet causing her to twist her ankle. She surely would've fallen if not suddenly out of nowhere a warm arm had wrapped around her waist and steadied her. She found herself pressed against a soft chest and even before the low chuckle resounded in her ears, she knew who had come to her aid.

"Clever choice, Babcock, wearing heels when you have a full day of travelling ahead." Niles quipped and made no move to release her.

"If you don't let go in a second, you'll find my heels stuck in your manhood." she growled in return.

To her satisfaction he shivered and took a step away, untangling himself from her. C.C. breathed in deeply, trying to erase whatever physical response his nearness had evoked and circled her foot to assess the damage.

"Are you ok?" he asked quietly from the other side of the stairs.

His blue eyes were focused on her ankle and showing true concern.

"I've had worse," she gave him a small crooked grin.

"Like that first night when you ran away in the rain?" he softly continued.

God, she wanted to turn back time and be in that little pub with him again.

"No, it was all a lie." she reminded herself and squared her shoulders. "Bring my suitcase downstairs, will you?" she said haughtily and hobbled down the stairs.

"I'm not your-"

"Once a butler, always a butler." she called and moved on undeterred.

"Always running away…" he mumbled quietly and followed suit.


It was a rather extraordinary group that met that day at Ryde's ferry port. Niles and C.C. lost in thoughts, Maxwell tired and concerned and Kraentzl and Fran, the only colourful highlights of the group. Kraentzl was clad in what could only be described as all colours of the rainbow, his emerald wrap completing the outfit. While everyone else had looked away as if they'd just stared too directly into the sun, Fran had immediately fallen in love with it and spent the first few hours of the journey discussing where she could acquire such an outfit.

"Colours represent happiness," Kraentzl had said and the former Nanny had nodded eagerly, soaking up every word."You see Miss Babcock is dressed very formally in black and white, which suggests she is a very somber person, she needs to let the happiness in."

"Or maybe it simply suggests that I have a sense of style," C.C. muttered under her breath.

"Mr. Brightmore here is a bit more open," Kraentzl continued as if C.C. hadn't said a thing "just look at his burgundy scarf. However, all of the pastel colours he's wearing suggest that his personality is muted…he isn't quite in touch with himself or his abilities."

Niles gave a little smile that was more to humour the man than a sign that he agreed with him.

"So you mean that if Niles would put on your wrap, Mr. Kraentzl, he'd suddenly become superman because all his powers would be unleashed?" C.C. mocked, chuckling softly.

"No, certainly not, Miss Babcock." The artist replied calmly "But maybe if he did wear it, you'd finally realize what's in front of you."

She remained silent for the rest of the journey, so did Niles, if also for an altogether different reason.


They were already stressed when they arrived at the airport check-in. Everyone's nerves were hanging by mere threads because of the time of day they had left the island and the general tension that was in the air, ever since Kraentzl had so candidly spoken his mind.

"C.C. Babcock, on the New York flight." she said, slapping her passport down in front of the clerk.

"You're late," the man scolded "another 5 minutes and you would've missed check-in."

"But I didn't, did I?" she replied through gritted teeth.

But the clerk merely gave her a pointed look and typed her details into the computer. C.C. had only long enough to ponder if the entire world was out to hate her that day, when the man spoke again.

"Row 64, seat E."

She stared at him for a few minutes, unmoving.

"Listen, I still have about 20 other people to check in and as you know we're nearly out of time so-"

"That seat is not acceptable." she said curtly.

"Well, I'm sorry, lady, but you show up late, that's what you get."

"I was not the only one who showed up now! As you just pointed out there are still a number of people behind me AND this group," she pointed over her shoulder "who just arrived with me. Now I don't recall them being seated at the rear of the plane, nor in the middle row."

"Think she's gonna cause a scene?" Fran muttered to her husband.

"Isn't she already?" Maxwell replied, looking as if he'd like to disappear on the spot.

To everyone's surprise Niles, who had his eyes glued to C.C., calmly said: "She's just scared."

But before anyone could ask something in return, C.C. had given up her fight with the clerk and marched past them. Reminded that they still had to pass the security check the group followed suit.


A little while later C.C. used the size of Heathrow airport to disappear from everybody's sight. It was proving to be a difficult day for her and all she really wanted was to disappear into a quiet room with a large bottle of Jack Daniel's. Well, thankfully the duty free shops could fulfill at least that particular dream. Still, she'd require a large part of this to make her forget about her fear of flying. She shuddered slightly when her flight number was called out via the intercom and miserably trudged to the gate.

There were crowds of people all crammed into the tiny waiting room and C.C. tried to push her way through it to reach Maxwell and the others. To her great annoyance someone bumped into her just before she could reach them, causing her to drop her handbag and scatter the contents everywhere. Cursing under her breath she bent down to collect her things and then continued onwards. It was only when the air hostess checked her ticket on the plane, that she realized that she was no longer holding her own.

"Wh-where?" she stammered pathetically.

"Seat 18a, right here at the front." The woman replied patiently, flashing another pearly-white smile.

C.C. followed her direction and sank down in the comfortable chair, stretching her legs. How on earth had she managed to get here?

"Very nice," Kraentzl muttered as he passed Niles on his way to seat 65d.

"Mmh?" the former butler asked, stopping in mid-motion.

"You switched your ticket with Miss Babcock's, because you knew she was scared of flying and would've been uncomfortable here."

"Did not," Niles grumbled and continued to store away his bags.

"Then how come you're right here with me while she's at the front looking completely confused?"

"The woman's blonde, she's naturally confused." Niles replied and slid into his seat.

He picked out the in-flight magazine and pretended to read it, hoping that Kraentzl would get the hint and ask no more nosy questions. But to his annoyance the artist had other plans. Granted, he didn't pursue them until they were in the air, but the minute the fasten seatbelts signs had been switched off, Kraentzl had appeared by his side.

"How long has Miss Babcock had this fear of flying?" he inquired.

It took Niles a moment to answer, for he had firmly reckoned with questions concerning their relationship.

"Well uh…as long as I can remember, really. She hates it…and she hates even more that I know." he chuckled at this "You see, she always acts like such a tough, strong woman that the tiniest hint of weakness…or dare I call it humanity is viewed as a great embarrassment."

Kraentzl nodded and took a moment to digest this. "Do you know why she is afraid of flying?"

Niles frowned and tried to think back. "If anyone knew then it would be Sara…Maxwell's late wife…her and C.C. were rather close. But if you want my opinion?"

The artist nodded, an almost greedy expression in his eyes.

"I don't think it has to do with some traumatic experience. I think it's because when she's on a plane she is completely dependent on a stranger. She isn't in control of the machine, the weather…she can't possibly check if everything is working properly. So she has to trust in what she's been presented with and that's an enormous obstacle for her."

Kraentzl considered this again. "But couldn't the same be said for a train or a boat?"

"Mmh?"

"You know…she can't control the elements, nor the machine…" he trailed of.

"Well, yes." Niles agreed.

"But she isn't afraid of them?"

"No…but flying…it involves the possibility of being dropped, of falling…and Miss Babcock certainly hates to fall…"


A few hours later a calm had fallen over the plane, only occasionally shattered by muffled yawns or the ripping of packets of crisps. Fran Sheffield had long since given up on entertainment after she had spotted no Streisand movies on the little computer in front of her. Her husband was deeply asleep and she longed to do the same was, however, incapable to do so.

"Stupid oreos…" she muttered under her breath but then broke into a grin when Kraentzl slid into the seat next to her.

"I hope I'm not bothering you, my dear?"

"Not at all, you're actually rescuing me from the jaws of boredom…oy…a few days with the Brits and I begin to talk like Shakespeare." And she let out her honking laugh. (Groans of annoyance could be heard from several passengers in the vicinity)"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

"No…plagued by an insatiable thirst…" Kraentzl replied.

"Oh yeah…I know…service here is really bad, isn't it?" Fran asked, nudging him.

"Oh no, my dear, I mean thirst of knowledge, curiosity."

"Ow…now that's my area of specialty. What can I help you with?"

"Mr. Brightmore and Miss Babcock…how long have they known each other?"

At the prospect of a good gossiping session Fran's eyes began to sparkle instantly.

"Well, Niles has been with Maxwell for all his life…used to be his butler, that's how him and Miss Babcock met."

"And she worked as…?"

"Well, first Maxwell's secretary but then she became his business partner…"

"Interesting…interesting…so he was a butler?"

"Yes, the best. He has a great big heart, that man, surprising that no woman has snatched him up yet…and witty, very dry, had all of us in stitches…including Miss Babcock, come to think of it."

"She enjoyed his humour?" Kraentzl pressed.

"Well, it's difficult to describe. They both had a kind of routine…sorta like a verbal bickering match, both seemed to enjoy it though."

"What makes you say that?"

"That's easy…I mean…after Niles left Miss Babcock wasn't the same anymore. She was even more short with anyone who'd even dare talk to her…I don't know, she seemed subdued too for a while…I'd say Niles kept her calm, if that wasn't such a huge contradiction."

She laughed again and then looked a little uncertain when the artist made no move to speak again.

"You know calm…when they fought…she was never calm, he got under her skin…"

"Precisely," Kraentzl muttered and nodded "precisely…now you said Mr. Brightmore quit…why was that?"

"Oh actually I don't know…you'd have to ask my husband." And she turned around to wake him up.

"Let him be," Kraentzl interrupted gently "I have enough to consider for one flight…"

And with that he returned to his seat.