Cordelia stopped and grabbed Doyle's jacket. He lurched backwards.
"Jeez Cordelia, what's up? Not that I mind you being…"
"That's Xander. And everyone else!" Cordy groaned. "And I thought if we travelled business class we'd cut out the weirdo's. And get to meet some rich guys. How'd they get the money to travel business?"
"That's not the point Cordy. Didn't you say Buffy had some kind of vamp radar, that she could sense them if they came too close to her." Cordelia looked blank. "What about Angel?"
"Oh! Oh God yeah! Buffy's hypersensitive when it comes to Angel. Like major. What do we do?"
"We pray they don't put Angel anywhere near Buffy and avoid them like the plague. Let's go hide in the bar." He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Cordelia looked at his arm, then at him then back at his arm. Carefully, as if she was picking up a really smelly sock, she peeled his arm off of her and dropped it.
"You're still drunk aren't you!"
She stalked off. Swaying a little, Doyle caught up with her and the pair walked off through the crowded airport together.
"Am not!"
"Are too."
"Am not."
"You think everything's an occasion to go hide in the bar." Cordelia continued.
"I do not."
"Do to."
The argument trailed off into the distance.