Author's Note: I've nothing of much importance to say, except that the last chapter was supposed to be dedicated to 'Pixy' for her suggestion that Sands would want to know as much as possible about this new woman in his life, and that this chapter is dedicated to Merrie for her constant begging on new SJ/Tess material (^_^), and that each and every chapter only makes it here because of my wonderful and delightfully funny beta, Ashley.

Read the chapter.

Author's thanks at end.

**************************************************************

The airport was crowded and it was noisy.  It was an easy place to get lost in, especially if one couldn't see.  Tess glanced over her shoulder; Sands was still immediately behind her.  If she were to stop at this very instant, he'd collide with her in a heartbeat.  She wondered just how he was managing to stay so close to her with such assurance.  I could handle being blind around the house, but I faltered when things got too noisy there.  Especially in the entrance hall with all its echoes.  I'd be terrified to move here.  She shrugged.  For all I know, he is terrified.  He's a hard man to read.

   Tess shifted Selena on her hip slightly, and gripped René's hand a bit tighter as a group of American tourists came their way.  She'd discovered, to her chagrin, that the boy liked to lose himself in large crowds.  The last time it'd happened, Marcos had retrieved him before Tessa had even noticed his absence – that didn't do too much for her self-esteem.

   I told you you wouldn't be able to do it.  Some guardian you're going to be if you're losing kids before you even make it out of the country.  You can't even keep a good grip on your own mind.  What makes you think you're going to do any better with children?  Tess could tell that her voice was peeved that she'd taken such dramatic steps to quiet it earlier in the week.  For the past few days it had been back to its old self, except now it was angry at her for making it submit.

   I'll learn.  Nobody is a perfect parent when they first start out, and they get to start with one child, usually, not three half grown ones and an infant.  Besides, Marcos is helping me.

   Great.  You're depending on the help of a ten-year-old.  Why don't you just give up now?  It'd be easier.

   I promised.  She didn't know which promise she was referring to; looking after the children, helping Sands, or the promise she'd made to herself to never give in quietly to her other side.

   The voice gave a mental shrug.  Suit yourself.

   "Tía Teresa, my feet hurt."  Alma's voice was plaintive and pitiful, designed to convince Tess that the girl was in the throws of extreme suffering but was enduring it like a good little martyr.  Not that Tess really blamed the girl; they'd been walking about the airport aimlessly for over an half and hour now.  The plane that Logan promised was going to be an hour late due to high winds in the LA area.

   Might as well sit down as wander around.  True, this is the first real chance I've had to stretch my legs in days, but it must be boring for the children.  "Okay, Alma.  We'll take a break."  And it would probably be good for Sands to rest.  He's managed this far, but the last thing I need is for him to collapse on me in the middle of the airport.  That would raise too many unneeded complications for my peace of mind.  Reaching behind her with one hand, Tess tugged lightly on one of the labels of Sands' jacket, hoping he'd get the cue that she was changing direction.  Just incase he didn't, Tess turned before saying, "We'll go sit down over there."  There, he should be able to at least follow the sound of my voice.

   "Over there" was a smallish lounge area that was most likely more uncomfortable than it looked.  Tess saw Sands grimace as he sat down, then made her own face when she discovered that the chairs were not only unsoftened by the bright floral pattern on the seats and backs, but that the backrest reached uncomfortably only to her middle back.  She was only shorter than Sands by an inch or so – if the seat was uncomfortable for her, then it was for him as well.  But there wasn't much she could do about that.

   However, she could do something for the kids that were now swarming her with random demands.  She handed out juice boxes and bags of apple slices and grapes, not to mention books, and coloring books, and markers.  She'd come prepared for the flight and the wait that they might have to endure.  She might not have had kids around for long, but she had learned that much.

   Tessa was about to ask if Sands wanted some Ibuprophen or something, but the look on his face made her think twice about that idea.  Instead, she dug out a bottle of formula she'd mixed at the hotel and started feeding Lena.  The baby was fussy from missing her afternoon nap.  You and me both, kid.  She tried to relax into the chair, but the rim dug right into her spinal cord.  Sighing, she stood up and started pacing, humming absentmindedly under her breath, hoping the baby would sleep for just a little bit.

   Hush little baby, don't say a word/Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird./And if that mocking bird don't sing,/Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring . . . .  Tess switched to another song.  The fairy tale was meant to comfort, but it was nothing more than hollow disillusionment for her.  The most her father would have done along those lines was shoot the man who'd sold a defective mockingbird.

   Rock-a-bye, in the treetop/When the wind blows the cradle will rock/When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall/And down will come baby cradle and all . . . .  It was a long and painful fall.  Why did lullabyes talk about things like this?

   You're bitter and cynical today.  I like it.

   Will you just shut the hell up for once?

   Apparently the voice was content that it had gotten her to curse; it left her alone.  And Tess, having learned that lullabyes were not her forté, decided to switch to Mexican folksongs.  She was halfway through a song about a clever fox and Quetzalcoatl, the Mayan god, when a figure across the walkway caught her eye.  The nagging sensation in the back of her mind wasn't a good one, but she stopped to stare at the man anyway.

   His back was turned to her, but there was something about the set of his shoulders and the hand bouncing something in his pocket that tugged at her memory.  No!  The man was beginning to turn just as his identity popped into her head.  This was someone she definitely didn't want to be seen by.

   Tightly clutching Selena to her, Tess spun around . . . only to run smack dab into Sands.  Instinctively, he reached out to steady her, while at the same time, she reached for his head and pulled it down to her shoulder, making sure that she wasn't  rough in her haste.

   "What the hell are you doing," he gasped, trying to hear over the blood rushing into his ears.  That had hurt.

   "Tell me, is there any reason the cartel would be looking for you?  And would they recognize you if someone were?"  There were three possibilities – either the man was looking for her, he was looking for Sands, or he was there by coincidence.  Tessa didn't believe in coincidences.  She'd seen too many men like her father who arranged 'coincidences' to their best interests.  The arm that wasn't around his neck was holding Lena, who thankfully wasn't fussing yet.

   "I thought you were the expert on the cartel around here."  Sands tried to pull his head up, but she had her hand wrapped in the hair at the base of his skull.  It would take too much effort to free himself, yet the feeling of being trapped was unsettling.

   "I am.  Trust me, there's a man over there that you don't want to see you."  Tess had turned her face into Sands' neck when she'd decided to use him as cover.  If that man was who she thought he was, and he was here for the reason she thought he was, then he wouldn't be looking for a couple.  But she knew she wasn't going to able to do this for long.  Her psyche was already rebelling against the close proximity of another person just as strongly as Sands was.

   Bad things happen when you get too close to people, it whispered, bringing images of past horrors to her mind.

   I know . . . but what's he going to do in the middle of a crowded airport?  She tightened the hand in his hair she felt his head once again shift, then relaxed as she realized he wasn't trying to pull away. 

   "So, who is this guy?  An old boyfriend?  Jealous lover?  Spurned recipient of unrequited love?"

   "His name is Salvatore Keel, and he's a bounty hunter who's on the cartel's payroll.  He ignores any posts that come up on their people, and goes after the ones they want to get their hands on."  Tess decided that a risk had to be taken.  Ever so slowly, she turned her head from Sands' neck, letting her hair curtain her face.  The rest of the airport slowly came into view.

   All she could see for a moment was a blur of motion; tourists and natives alike, hurrying and bustling as if lives depended on their speed – or at least check-in times.  It was all chaos of the most orderly fashion and Tess hated it.  She'd much rather be somewhere where people were still, although the downside of that was that then people were often quiet as well so there was no sound to distract her. 

   Keel.

   Right.  Sorry.  Tess turned her head a little bit more, her hair slipping from before her eyes but still hiding the lower part of her face.  Her temple was now resting against her companion's shoulder.  She could feel his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, a indistinct worry faded.  His breathing was no longer catching in this throat with pain, although there was no guarantee that things would stay that way.

Sands hated that this woman was using him for cover.  He wasn't sure why – he'd used others as a smokescreen before and never thought about how they felt to be the ones being used.  And he knew that she wasn't even trying to use him; she'd just turned to him for help as naturally as she helped others.  Maybe that was the part that stung at him – the way that she was trusting him not to make a wrong move.  He wasn't even quite sure that he trusted himself to do that anymore.

   What you hate is that she's trying to help you, and you don't like the way she'd going about it.  Especially since she's being so pushy.  Holding you down.  Can you feel the panic rising?  Are you going to freak right out?

   God, that voice was getting annoying.  Even though he hated to ask, hated to admit that he needed help deciphering what was going on around him, Sands asked, "What's taking you so long?  Forgotten what your old friend looks like?"  Let her prove him wrong.

   Her head shook on his shoulder, and Sands felt a twinge go through him.  When was the last time someone had held him like this?

   Not long enough.  She's just trying to help you – we all know what the side affects of her assistance are; confusion and a general pain in the ass.  Get your head in the game Sheldon, and ignore the twit.

   "I can't find him."  Tess didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned.  She was a believer of keeping one's enemies where they could be seen, but the further away Keel was from her and her little group the better.  Reluctantly, Tess turned her head back towards Sands, hoping that they appeared like a happy couple.  She didn't need suspicious or judging eyes turned their way.

   As she turned her head, she caught a whiff of his scent.  For the most part, he'd been using her toiletries, so he didn't smell too dissimilar from her, but there was enough of a twist to make her mind take notice: the smell of smoke, a faint trace of sweat on his skin, the drowsy, musty scent of clothes that had been packed away for a long period of time.  While she was growing more uncomfortable by the moment, made uneasy by the reminders that this man was in her care but not dependent on her, she kept turning her head.  The last thing she wanted was for Keel to mistakenly see her or Sands.

   When the slight goatee on his face brushed roughly against her forehead, she stopped.  Pulling her head back a few inches, she murmured, "I need to check the other side.  He could've moved.  Be sure to hide your face."  She felt him sigh with irritation, but he did as she directed, moving his head to the other side of hers, resting it against her shoulder.

   She cautiously glanced around the room, trying to ignore the feeling of protectiveness that was welling up inside her.  With the children it was welcome.  However, she knew that Sands neither wanted it nor would appreciate it.  To him she was nothing more than a second-rate doctor with a peculiar view of the world.  Her eyes landed on each of the children, each still involved in their own activity and paying Sands and her no mind.  Ruthlessly, she squashed the rising tide of care that was trying to sway her.  Her only job was to get Sands to LA in one piece.  After that they both had their own agendas.  Her job would be done, she would have nothing more to offer.

   Faithless is he who says farewell when the road darkens.

   The greatest harm can result from the best intentions.  What would he do if I stuck around?  I've seen him in enough pain – this recovery isn't going to be a miracle.  It'll be painful.  I've taken enough from him by helping him; I won't stay and take more.  Fish and company start to stink after three days.

   You know you're fascinated.  You want to stay.  When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before.  You should try it sometime.

   She couldn't spot Keel anywhere.  Lifting her head slowly, she moved her arm from Sands' head and intertwined it with his.  "Turn with me."  He did, but she could feel his muscles standing out from him frame like steel cables – he didn't like being touched, and she didn't blame him.  As soon as she deemed their faces safely out of sight from the general passerby, she let him go.  A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth but, nobody should be asked to handle this trip.  It was true.  This venture of theirs' was raising too much for her to think about – she'd be glad once it was just her and her charges again.  Sands brought too many things the surface of her mind for her to ever be comfortable around him.

"Ma'am?"  Tess looked up from the magazine she'd been using to hide her sightless gaze and looked up at the woman in front of her.  She was dressed in the uniform of an airport employee, and Tessa remembered that she was the one she'd asked about the arrival of their flight.

   "Yes?"  She stretched.  God, I hope the plane is here.  I don't think I can sit still for too much longer.  She'd resigned herself to sitting once she had discovered that Sands was bound and determined to stay on her heels.  She understood he was nervous and that he didn't want to admit it, but his constant shadowing of her was making her jumpy.  There had been a time in her life that the people following her had been not so innocent.

   "Your plane has just arrived."  The woman was obviously American.  Her creamy white skin showed just a hint of sun-kissed gold, and her hair color obviously had more to do with a bottle of peroxide than any time out in the sun.  "It's refueling as we speak, but if you'd like to follow me, I can get you started on your departure.  Get you through the security checkpoints, and take you to the person who will take you to your flight.  You're aware that you won't be boarding through a gate?"  Tess nodded, signaling the kids to pack away their belongings.  "Very good, if you'll just follow me?"

   Wearily, Tess climbed to her feet, once again settling Lena against her hip.  The baby was half-asleep and was starting to feel heavier than she actually was.  Once I've recovered from my various shots, I need to start my routine again.  Just the thought of push-ups made her arms burn, but it needed to be done.  Her routine needed to resume.  Exercise helped keep things best kept at bay under control.

   "Giovanni.  Let's go."  Tess paused as she collected René's hand in hers, reaching out a foot to tap him gently on the ankle.  Once the man was upright, she waited for him to take a step behind her before following after the helpful airport employee.

   Walking through the airport after the other female, Tess had to smother a grin and remind herself to be vigilant.  Keel, if it had been Keel, hadn't necessarily seen them before, but that could change in a moment.  She really needed to keep an eye open for him.  It was just so hard though, when she was trying so hard not to laugh out loud.  The reason for her humor was that their guide was doing her best to attract Sands' attention without coming right out and hitting on him. 

   Tessa knew that the woman probably thought that they were involved in some way and was simply trying to engage in some harmless flirting.  But Sands, his condition being what it was, didn't notice.  He simply walked behind Tess, his head tilted down a bit as if he was watching where he was going.  The blond was getting more and more overt in her mock seduction; Tess was afraid she might dislocates something, her hips were swaying so dangerously.

   "Is something wrong with that woman?"

   Tess muffled a yelp when Sands voice sounded so close to her ear.  Way to go, Teresa.  If the guy not two inches behind you can sneak up on you, how much more damage can Keel do?  He could have a gun in your side before you knew what was happening.  Keep your head in the game, or I'll do it for you.

   "She's fine.  Why do you ask?"

   "She walking strangely."

   Tess wanted to stop right where she was in amazement, but settled for looking around them instead.  Nothing but tourists in tasteless clothing met her eye.  Hmm . . . something tells me that under normal circumstances, Sands would fit right in.  She'd gotten a peek at the contents of his suitcase and had been somewhat surprised.  Most of his clothing was a striking contrast between some of the most tacky t-shirts and shorts she'd ever seen and exceedingly dramatic black ensembles that ran along the same lines as what he'd been wearing when she'd first met him.  What he had now was the most generic of his clothing and he still managed to catch people's eyes, as the woman ahead of them could attest.

   Once the curiosity had calmed enough to disappear from her voice, she asked, "You can hear how she's walking?"  Tess glanced over her shoulder, wanting to confirm her suspicions and wanting to take her mind off how he appeared to others.  It was none of her business as long as no one took too much notice of them.

   He shrugged, seeming to say, "You got a problem with that?" so Tess let the matter drop.

   "Ma'am?"  Tess turned her head back to the woman.  She was standing beside a man who appeared to be a national, and while she was talking to Tess, her eyes were focused on Sands.  "Let me introduce you to Julio.  He'll be taking you the rest of the way.  I'm afraid that some other matters have arisen that need my attention."  Like getting yourself off?  The voice sounded distinctly territorial, and that amused Tess.  Hush.  You've no reason to get upset.  "But, I'm sure that Julio can take care of whatever your needs may be.  Thank you for –"

   "Why aren't your eyebrows the same color as your hair?  Are you a natural blond?"  Alma had grown tired of standing around waiting to get on their flight, and being the outgoing person that she was, had just asked an extremely appropriate yet rude question.  Tessa knew she ought to chide the girl for her bad behavior, but she couldn't. 

   The woman showed she understood Spanish when she glared at Alma and then glanced at Tess, seemingly trying to decide if she could complain to her or not.  Tess donned her most expressionless face, the one that seemed to convey that anyone who asked her anything would get their heads bitten off – that her emotions were so tightly under control that distraction would make them erupt in the sort of disaster that hadn't been seen since Mt. St. Helens had unleashed her fury in a tail that could be told around the world.  Wisely, the woman decided to keep her mouth shut.

The most troublesome part of leaving the airport and making it onto the plane had been the security check.  Not that they hadn't passed easily enough – they had.  The kids had loved it, going through the metal detector several times before Tess made them stop and wait for her and Sands to go through.  The two adults had also passed inspection without any problems, but when the guards went to look through the backpack Tess had with her, she'd gotten nervous.

   Tess had known that any attempt to bring Sands' numerous guns through any kind of security checkpoint would be not only be useless, but would also raise hell amongst the security personnel.  Bust Sands had refused to leave them behind.  She'd tried to argue that they were going to be on friendly territory, but he'd simply laughed and told her that if she truly believed that then she was a bigger fool than he had imagined.  So the guns had come with them – only after Tess had gotten creative.

   Creative and foolhardy.  If even one person here remembers you and that information gets to someone like Keel, you can kiss all your plans good-bye.  You'll be dragged back to whatever is left of the cartel faster than you can say, 'oops.'

   Tess watched as one of the guards went through the backpack, dismissing the various children's activities and snack foods.  But when he uncovered the object at the bottom of the bag, he raised his head to give Tess and Sands a suspicious look.  "What's this?"

   "This" was a lead box that Tess had dug out of the trunk that held all her medical supplies.  Into it, she had loaded three of Sands' guns, leaving room for the one he had insisted upon carrying to the hotel.  The last of the guns had been either left at the house she'd been staying in, or she'd mailed to Logan.  But the guard didn't need to know that.  Making sure to meet the man's eyes steadily she answered, "It's a box."

   "I can see that, señora.  What's in it?"  He was trying to open it, but this was no ordinary box.  It was one Tess had picked up a year ago for it's special feature – it needed a key card to open it.

   "Extremely delicate tissue samples that I'm taking back to the States with me.  You're handling hundreds of thousands of dollars in research grant money there.  I hope you'll be a bit more delicate?"  The man glared at her.

   "I hope you don't mind of we x-ray it to corroborate your story?"

   "By all means.  But you won't discover much.  The box is lined with lead to keep radiation from harming the samples."

   The guards ignored her and put the box in the machine anyway.  All that came up on the screen was a blur inside a larger blur.  They turned and glared at her.  "Open it up."  They handed the box back to her.

   Now what?

   Tess put on the face that every medical student learns along with a cheery bedside manner – a look of arrogance and self-confidence that was supposed to make others feel inferior and vaguely stupid when talking to you.  "Clearly you didn't hear what I said earlier.  That box contains extremely fragile tissue samples.  Opening that box anywhere outside of a lab would result in the destruction of hundreds of thousands of dollars of government money.  US and Mexico government if you were wondering.  And without these samples, nearly a decade of research is going to be put on hold for years until another sample can be procured.  Now, if you want to take responsibility for that, by all means, do what you think is necessary.  Or, you can simple take my word, examine my license, and let us get on our way."  The men looked chagrined but stubborn, and Tess had to admit that they were probably very good at their jobs.  It was just that this time she couldn't back out.

   Shuffling Lena in her arms, Tess managed to pull out her wallet and ID, along with her license.  She was careful to make sure that she grabbed the fake ones and not the real ones.  Leaving her name here would be a big mistake, especially if Keel started questioning people.  It was bad enough that these men had her description – she refused to surrender her name.

   "Dr. Tabita Gonzales," the man read aloud as he studied the papers.  Tess had gotten the doctored license some years ago so that she could prescribe medicines to patients without word getting back to her father.  The man and his partner scrutinized the papers carefully, taking their time over every validation.

   "Take a picture, it'll last longer."  Tess smiled as Sands made his irritation known.

   As for Sands, he was getting more uncomfortable and uneasy by the moment.  Holding up security was never a good thing, and he knew that the longer it took someone to fall for a line, the more likely it was that you were going to get caught.  He heard Tess murmur thanks and then heard someone repacking the backpack.

   "Thank you for you time, señor."  Tess reached back with one hand and lightly touched the back of Sands' hand, signaling that it was okay for them to go. 

   As they passed the checkpoint and followed their rather uninterested guide to the exit that would take them to the tarmac and then to the vehicle that would take them to their plane, Sands came up to walk alongside Tessa.  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but he seemed disinclined to say anything.  That's why the arm that pulled her against his side was such a surprise.

   "Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to know how to lie well."  His mouth was incredibly close to her ear, and it made Tess nervous.  This time she was the one who had no choice in being close to someone.  "In the future, pequeña, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the lying to me."  She nodded jerkily, and he let her go and resumed his spot a step behind her.

   "There's no trace of her here.  Are you sure that information you got was correct?"  Salvatore Keel was a thorough man, one who rarely missed any trace his prey may have left behind.  If he hadn't been able to find the woman, then she probably wasn't here.  Which wasn't to say that she hadn't been here or that she wouldn't be here.  All he needed was time.  "About her arrival, I mean.  It makes sense for her to try to leave the country.  It's just that if she'd going to be arriving in another three hours, I'd like the time to make myself a little less conspicuous."

   "You have the information we have.  All I want is for you to find her.  I don't care how long it takes, or what your excuses are.  I don't care if you deliver her today or in a year.  I don't care where she is, find her.  We need her information if we're going to make any successful attempt at gaining control over Barillo's territory.  The men will respect the claim she represents.  I need her if I'm to bring any order to this mess and avoid as much bloodshed as possible.  I don't want a territory weakened by infighting.  This is all pointless if another cartel comes in and wipes up out.  I don't care what you have to do, where you have to go, or who you have to kill to get her – just get her."  Keel's boss hung up on him, and the man felt a surge of temper, but he controlled it.  Right now he had a job to complete.  He had to find Barillo's bastard daughter and return her to the arms of her loving family.

   Putting the cell phone away in his jacket pocket, Keel turned and looked out the window.  There was a private jet parked on a nearby tarmac, and there was a jeep headed towards it.  He almost dismissed the scene altogether – there were too many people for this to be the woman he was looking for.  He knew Teresa Barillo, knew her mannerisms.  She'd been a strange kid, but had always had a way of walking that indicated confidence while implying that the one doing the walking wasn't worth paying attention to.  Even as a child there'd been a cloud of  awareness that followed her every movement. 

   The jeep stopped and the passengers disembarked.  Keel was turning away, but something caught his eye.

   There, on the edge of the group, was a lone woman.  She was thanking their driver and herding the group of kids up the steps to the plane hatch.  She let the stewardess at the top take charge of them as she turned to her companion – a man, as far as Keel could tell.  They looked to be discussing something, and by the set of his shoulders he was none too happy.  The woman took his arm, apparently trying to placate him, and she led him up the stairs while holding a baby in the other arm.  The man disappeared inside the jet, but the woman stopped to take a glance at her surroundings.

   No.  Keel pulled out a small pair of binoculars and examined the woman.  A strong angular face jumped at him as he adjusted the focus.  Dark hair threw light-colored eyes into relief, and the set of the woman's shoulders erased any doubt he had of who he was looking at.  Barillo.

   There was no time to get down to the plane.  He briefly wondered how she'd escaped his notice, and then remembered the woman and man he'd watched for a bit earlier in the afternoon.  He'd dismissed them because he'd known that the Barillo woman hated to be touched, but apparently she'd gotten over that if she had four kids and a man with her.

   As he pulled out his cell phone top contact his employer again and as his mind started churning with all the ways he could follow the woman, Keel smirked.  I always get what I'm looking for.

   "What do you mean he's disappeared off our map?  If there isn't a body and there isn't a living man around somewhere, you've missed something . . . .  Yes, I'm well aware that the cartels could have gotten him or that he could have been killed in the coup, but Sands isn't that stupid.  If I know the bastard, he'd holed up somewhere, recuperating until he feels it's safe enough for him to come out . . . .  No, we can't just send someone else in.  Sands has the best intelligence on the cartels.  If we're going to destroy the Barillo cartel once and for all, then we need to get him.  So I don't care what it takes, but find him."

   The man in the suit hung up his phone and left his office.  He ran his hands through graying ginger-colored hair and let out an irritated sigh.  Things were falling apart in Mexico, and their best agent was missing.  The agents in charge of watching his hotel room had caught a glimpse of a woman at his room, but they'd failed to detain her.  Or even follow her.

   Damnit.  Where is that man?  William Colton, the man who had offered Sands the position in Mexico decided that his wayward agent had better have a damn good excuse for disappearing off the radar so thoroughly.  The man had concerned parents on his hands – concerned parents with connections.  If he didn't produce their son soon, he'd be in hot water.

   Sands was going to hear about all this in detail whenever he decided to reappear.  For his sake, it'd better be soon.

"Ms. Gonzales, we need to depart.  If you'll come inside the cabin?"  Tess turned her back on her last look of her home country.  Leaving didn't feel nearly as sad as it should.  Perhaps that was only because she'd never really felt at home here.  Nodding to the stewardess, Tess went to her seat and buckled in after making sure that the kids were safely settled.  Take-off wouldn't be too fun with a seven-month-old, but there was no avoiding it.  She had to leave.

   The engines started up and the plane started vibrating with the motion.

   "What are you thinking?"

   She turned to her companion is surprise.  What had inspired his sudden curiosity into her mental state?  Tess ran her eyes over Sands face and decided that the low vibrations were most likely wreaking havoc on his nervous system.  "Do you want something?"

   "An answer to my question."  She'd meant medication, but she wasn't surprised by his refusal of the offer.

   "You sure you want to know?"

   "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't."

   Tess shrugged and answered the man.  "We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams, wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams; world-losers and world-forsakers, on whom the pale moon gleams: yet we are the movers and shakers of the world forever, it seems."

**************************************************************

Quotes: OUATIM, Tolkein, Ben Franklin, Mae West, Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas, Samuel Butler, and 'Ode' by O'Shaughnessy

Thanks:  Many thanks to Merrie, Scarlett Burns, Trish, TaraRose, Pixy, Ashley and Blank.  You guys keep reviewing chapter after chapter, and just let me know that I do have some chronic readers.  : )

Also, thanks to marie and Yuliya, my two new reviewers for this chapter.  You guy encourage me by letting me know that there are NEW people reading this, and not just the ones I normally hear from.  Thanks much.  : )