A moth later Methos and Buffy were on the Concorde, winging their way to Paris.
Methos and Buffy traveled first class; there was no point in sitting with the peasants. An ironic smile accompanied this thought, as he was as peasant as any who had been born. He looked over at his lover and she was sound asleep, looking impossibly young. He enjoyed just watching her, the slight flush of pink at her cheek, her impossibly long eyelashes. He saw that her necklace was caught under her blouse and he reached over to gently untangle it, letting his fingers linger against her skin.
"Honeymoon?" The British matron across the aisle asked softly.
"No, but a bit like. It's her first trip outside the States." Methos replied quietly, making sure he wasn't disturbing Buffy.
"She's very lovely." The lady replied and Methos smiled, "Yes she is." Buffy stirred, then stretched. Her eyes opened and met Methos with a smile. "Are we there yet?" she asked sleepily and he chuckled. "A few more hours yet."
"Shoot."
She stood, brushed her mouth over his and walked toward the front to the restroom.
Methos sat back and tried to relax, but something wasn't right. He sat up casually and took a careful look around. He had already pinpointed the air marshal when he boarded, so he turned to check and saw that he was uneasy as well.
Buffy was washing her face when she felt something wrong. Then there was the sound of small weapons fire and she winced. "Oh great, a highjacking." She sighed; Methos was going to be upset.
Methos froze in his seat when he heard the pistol and the sound of a man crying out in pain. Suddenly there was shouting and two men running up the aisle, waving Uzi's and pistols. The third man stayed in back with the coach passengers. After the two terrorists had entered first class they had pulled the curtain, separating the plane.
The elderly woman across the aisle was in shock. Methos looked at her and held a finger to hips lips and she nodded. Methos knew that Buffy was up front with the terrorists, but still in the bathroom. The terrorists were beating on the reinforced cockpit door, yelling threats. After 9-11 all cockpit doors were reinforced, apparently these clowns hadn't watched the news. One of them tried to use his pistol on it, and the sound was shockingly loud in the small cabin, but nothing happened. There were cries of fear and angry orders to shut up. Methos really didn't want to end his life in a spectacular fireball in the Atlantic.
The terrorists were now screaming that they would start killing a passenger every 10 minutes if they weren't let into the cockpit. Methos shook his head 'Fucking amateurs.'
Buffy had been thinking rapidly and walked out of the bathroom like she hadn't a care in the world. Her eyes briefly met Methos, and she could see the bright fear for her in them. She turned to the startled terrorists and did a magnificent California blonde routine.
"Like, Ohmigod! You have guns!" she squealed.
The two men looked at each other and grinned. This dumb blond was no threat, pretty as she was.
Buffy carefully noted where their weapons were and pretended like she was terrified. "You're not going to like, shoot me or something?"
"Not unless you don't sit down lady." One spoke. Buffy did the only thing she could think of, she rolled her eyes up in her head and pretended to collapse. Both men did the predictable man thing and jumped forward to catch her. When they got close enough she took the collars of their shirts and banged their heads together, dropping them into a pile on the floor. Methos jumped out of his seat and joined her up front. He stood and put his finger to his lips for the other first class passengers to see, indicating silence. There were nods and no noise. Buffy quickly handed him the weapons, which he automatically unloaded, then jacked the action to take care of the round chambered as well. He slid them under another first class passengers feet, taking the bullets and dropping them into his pocket. Knowing that the other terrorist would investigate soon, he turned to Buffy.
He quietly murmured, "I'll keep an eye on them, you go back and take out the other man." She nodded and moved swiftly to the curtain, when a hand grabbed her wrist. He showed her his air marshal badge and she nodded silently. She bent down and placed her lips to his ear, "I'm going to get him to come up here. When he passes your seat, take him out." He nodded quickly in understanding and she slid the curtain open a fraction. Back on the floor in the aisle was the wounded steward and farther back the other terrorist doing his terror thing.
"Um, like excuse me?" Aware that all eyes were on her she smiled tremulously. "Your friend wants you up here." She stammered, the perfect picture of scared womanhood.
The terrorist nodded and marched up, signaling her to go in front of him and he closed the curtain. As he passed the air marshal, the man stood and brought the butt of his pistol down on his head. Buffy whirled quickly and caught the unconscious man before his weapons hit the floor. Methos came up behind her and he retrieved the guns and unloaded them. He met her eyes, jerking his head toward their seats and she nodded and sat down. The air marshal and Methos quickly trussed the men up, gagging them for good measure then Methos went back to his seat, kneeling down where Buffy already was. "There's no doctor on the flight so I'm going to see what I can do for the wounded man." He said quietly and she nodded.
He cupped her face in his hands, "Don't do that again." And kissed her with the desperation and the fear that he had felt, then gentled it and made her moan quietly.
The air marshal had reassured the pilots and came back to stand by Buffy and Methos seats, "Merci for you heroic actions." Both Buffy and Methos shook their heads, "We really don't want any publicity, we are very private people." Methos said earnestly. The air marshal looked at them thoughtfully and nodded, "If that is your wish. We will however need statements from you both?" and they nodded. Methos stood and went back and checked on the wounded man, there was really nothing they could do except check the bandage and ease his pain which had been done by a stewardess already.
When they landed at DeGaulle International Airport, they were met by the French police who took the terrorists into custody. It looked like the media hadn't found out yet, so Methos and Buffy quickly gave their statements and left.
