Disclaimer: I own no part of Red Eye, and am in no way earning any profit off this story. It is fan fiction, and is written for enjoyment, not monetary gain.

Phrases in italics are Lisa's communications with Jackson.

Phrases in bold are loudspeaker announcements.

4:49 am.

Wednesday.

Take-off in a washroom was not a pleasant experience for either Lisa or Jackson.
Her stomach lurched and she sat down hard on the toilet seat, clutching the sides and feeling very vulnerable. Her state of dress left something to be desired, in ways more than one – she wore only her mid-thigh length skirt and bra – both her blouse and panties were drying under the blow-dryer.

Jackson on the other hand, was still fully dressed, but was pale as a sheet and even slightly green.

"J-Jack?" she murmured, one hand on her stomach, the other reaching out to touch his sleeve. He was still facing the wall, clinging to the overhang. "Jack…talk to me. I need a distraction."

"Distraction, huh? You want a fucking distraction?" he hissed angrily, shoving her arm away. He turned and faced her. "Don't talk to me. You weren't supposed to know. You were supposed to think I was nothing but a hardened criminal mastermind who was in it for the money and couldn't care less."

She looked down and gasped as the plane swayed back and forth; obviously there was some turbulence. "Why? Do you think it would've made a difference?" she asked, looking up accusingly. "Maybe if I'd have known your life was on the line – "

"My life would've been on the line in any case!" he howled. "With a job like mine, if you fail your mission you're dead anyway, do you understand me, DEAD!"

She winced and shied away a bit from the force of his voice. He was still clearly in a lot of pain, and was wavering slightly on his feet. "M-maybe you should sit – "

He nearly collapsed into her lap, she jumped slightly and then held onto his shoulders and back as the plane rocked alarmingly and nearly felt like it was going to fall out of the sky.

"Can't they fly this thing properly?" she muttered, unconsciously stroking Jackson's back. He said something quietly, something she couldn't quite make out. "What was that?"

"I said, let me up." He looked up into her face, raising his eyebrows. She realized that when he'd fallen, he'd landed with his face right between her –

She jumped up and pushed him away in shock. "Ack!"

"My point." he leaned unsteadily against the sink and tried not to retch again as the plane dipped.

"Well, I…" she let out a huff of a breath. "Never mind." she got up and checked her clothing – still wet.

"Stupid blow-dryers never work!" she grumped, sighing and sitting back down again. She made a slight face. "Ooog."

"What's wrong now?"

"Cramps."

He made a face – much worse than hers – and let out a slight whimper of disgust. "Ugh."

"Wimp."

"Hey!" he protested.

"Men fear women's reproductive systems."

"We do not!"

"Do too!"

Lisa chuckled dryly and clenched her teeth slightly as another slight wave of discomfort forced her to remain still. It didn't help that the airplane was moving like a bucking bronco. "Nghh."

Jackson softened slightly. "Did you bring, uh, Advil or anything?"

"I didn't think I'd get it. No, I didn't bring anything." she sighed. "It's not that bad – it's not constant – more like rolling waves every few minutes or so. I've never had very…ugh. Painful ones." she admitted.

"Oh." he swallowed, then fiddled with his hands, almost as if he didn't know where to put them. "Well…is there anything I can do?"

It was the first thing that came to her. She blamed hormones; supposedly there was a release of some kind of bio-chemical that put women into overdrive when they were bleeding…

Lisa stood up and pulled Jackson towards her, taking his hand and putting it exactly where she needed it.

He let out a little shriek of horror and started to pull back, but she leaned on him, sighing and pressing up against his body, which by now had been forced backward into the wall.

"External pressure usually helps…" she murmured into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

He gawked for a moment, feeling rather like a statue, before really realizing where his hand really was. All of a sudden the blood didn't seem to matter so much because his hand was on her and then he slid it into her and she was letting him do it and it was amazing. It was tighter and slicker and hotter than he could ever have possibly imagined. This was incredible.

She moaned slightly and held onto his shoulders as he moved his fingers and suddenly he was right there…

"Oh God." she gasped, reaching her peak hard and her knees wobbled slightly. He caught her and held her up with his other arm; he then slowly pulled his fingers back out.

He stared at them for a moment, and then chuckled slightly. "Do not." he smiled slightly.

And then the lights flickered.

They both looked up and watched the light in the bathroom flicker on and off.

"We appear to be having some problems with our fuel. We suspect sabotage. We will commence random executions again."

"Shit."

They both hurried over to the sink; Jackson washed his hand clean while Lisa put back on her now-dry clothing, stocking up on tissues in case she leaked later on, then they both hurried out of the washroom and back down the aisle to their seats.

To Be Continued…