LATER

"Where the hell are the newspapers?" Hiiro muttered angrily, furiously searching through the various cabinets for the elusive New York Times.

"In the top cupboard on the right," Mayumi replied, putting food trays on a rolling cabinet, ready to serve lunch. The flight was almost two hours into duration, and already Hiiro was going crazy. He was not made to serve people.

He got up from his crouched position and grabbed the paper, stomping off. Mayumi shook her head sadly and began passing out the trays.

Shiris was enjoying herself upstairs, chatting with the passengers and enjoying the movie playing on the screen in the front. Even without sound, it was interesting. She was standing in the center aisle behind the last seat, watching the movie, when Trowa came up next to her.

"Should we start serving food?" he asked slipping his arm discreetly around her waist.

"Food? O, right, I completely forgot! We have to give out the menus and take orders first. Oh, and I should bring something to Julie and Duo. They're probably starving," she replied, squeezing his hand, then heading for the stairs. Trowa watched her lovely figure retreat, then went up to the cockpit and shut the door behind him.

"Hey, how is everything?"

"Just fine! It flies itself!" Duo replied, eating a bag of peanuts.

"Yep, no problems here! How about out there?" Julie asked, thinking particularly about Hiiro and Mayumi. She had taken off her jacket and it was lying across the seat behind her. Duo had un-tucked his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and thrown his cap across the room to the floor.

"Fine up here. Hiiro and Mayumi are downstairs, so I have no idea what they're doing."

"I don't think I want to know," Julie laughed, throwing up a peanut and catching it in her mouth.

"I came to see if you were hungry, so-" he paused as they started nodding furiously.

"Okay," he said with a smile, "I'll bring you a little of everything. I'll be right back," he quietly closed the door and headed down stairs.

He found Mayumi wheeling down the row with the food, calmly handing it out to the passengers, but not smiling what so ever. Some of the people seemed a little afraid of her, which he didn't blame them for. With her powerful figure and fierce green eyes, she looked like an Amazon ready to do battle with the next person to ask for ice in their drink.

Hiiro looked like he was supposed to be helping her, but was instead trying to get into arguments with as many people as possible.

"No, you said tomato juice, and here it is!" he slammed a cup down in front of a bald business man.

"No, sir, I said water. Now please take this cup away," the man replied edgily.

"No, I will not. You asked for it, you got it."

Hiiro returned to the cart, now a few rows ahead. Within seconds, another argument broke out.

"What do you mean 'not enough ice'? There's plenty!"

Trowa couldn't help but laugh at his friend's predicament. He had never imagined Hiiro, the tough, perfect spy to be handing out drinks as a flight attendant. Apparently, neither did Hiiro.

But it was worth it, if it meant they could get to Japan. Although he wasn't sure what they would once they got the laptop back. Maybe the Alliance would hire them? He sighed and grabbed a few trays from the cupboard and headed back upstairs to the famished pilots.

Shiris was thinking the same thing as she hunted through the cabinets for the menus. She liked having a set plan in mind, having the future clearly mapped out. She figured once they got the laptop, they could either head back to the base and go from there or head directly to the mission that Jane had mentioned the night they had contacted her from the mall, if it was still possible. The Minister mission was still unfinished, and she didn't like to leave loose ends hanging. But where would the boys factor in?

Mayumi finally had to tell Hiiro to go back to the food area after a little child threw his juice all over Hiiro's shirt, and she was afraid for the child's life. Hiiro was not good with little things, and she could tell he was about to throw juice right back at the kid.

"Hiiro, go back to the food area," she hissed, then smiled thinly as she handed out another drink.

"No. I am going to do this."

"No, you are not. You can't handle it. Now go."

Without another word he stomped off, a little thankful and a whole lot pissed. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't keep his temper with little children who threw drinks on people. Who could?

As he walked towards the front of the plane, he saw Shiris rummaging through the cabinets, hopefully not searching for the newspapers. She'd never find them.

"Hello," he greeted coldly, and sat down in one of the chairs that was attached to the wall.

"So you finally got kicked off drink duty?" she grinned, opened another cabinet, and then frowned.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the menus are?"

"Third cabinet on the right," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

"Thanks!" she said brightly, grabbing a handful. As she turned to go, Hiiro said, "How do you do it?"

She turned back, confused. "Do what?"

"Stay so calm. Trowa does it too. Like back in the airport, when we all were fighting. You two were perfectly fine."

She shrugged, unsure herself. "I don't know. I guess we're more patient? More passive?"

"Does it affect the abilities of your job?"

Now she felt like she was at the yearly physiatrist appointment.

"No, it doesn't. In fact, it helps. It keeps things in perspective."

"I see. I figure I'll know things are hopeless when I see you two loosing it."

Shiris blinked. Was that a joke? She tried searching his eyes, but they were like looking into a mirror—she couldn't see beyond the surface, and she doubted she ever would. That boy had a surface layer thicker than any she'd ever seen.

"I hope it never comes to that," she murmured, and left.

Hiiro closed his eyes again. He had told the truth about her and Trowa loosing it. And something in her eyes told him he was right-once they lost it, it was the end of all hope.