Disclaimer: I own nothing and profit none.

A/N: Day 3! So. Tired.

Total Word Count: 6,801

The remainder of his sojourn in New York went surprisingly smoothly considering his first day in the city. By the time he was cooling his heels outside of Gate 13 his tentacle rash had even almost healed. Which meant that, despite the undoubtedly SCIU-assisted pat down, Will was in a fairly good mood as he people-watched with a large cup of a dark drip.

When his phone buzzed on the seat next to him, Will checked the display and smiled before answering it with, "Aren't you supposed to be summoning your fellow Jedis right now?" In the nightly phone calls that had become a habit over the week, he had finally given in and shared his disturbing Jedi Council image. Complete with a wrinkly, green Magnus. Given that she had yet to see the prequels despite Henry's best attempts it didn't have quite the same impact, but Yoda had been around long enough for her to catch that connotation at least. The evening had ended in a debate over who Will would be in that case, with Will rooting for Obi-Wan while Magnus held out ruthlessly for a whiny, Episode 4 Luke. Which made Will think that Yoda had not perhaps suited her liking.

"In fact, yes, but I thought I'd see if young Skywalker had managed to make it past the goons first," he was pretty certain there was humor lurking under her tone of resigned exasperation.

"Barely, but yes," Will decided to let the Skywalker reference go by. "I'm at the gate now." He wished that he had the courage to ask if she was using the masking equipment that Henry had designed, but she'd begun to grow a bit tetchy about him beginning every conversation with the same inquiry.

"Yes, Will, I'm using Henry's program," at the hint of irritation in her voice, Will actually had to double-check that he hadn't posed the question. He hadn't. He thought.

"I didn't ask," he managed to make it not sound like a question.

"Yes, your not-asking was very loud," Magnus said dryly. "I thought I'd get it out of the way."

"Pardon me for not wanting," Will checked himself, remembering the public venue. Granted, no one had batted an eye when the older guy had wandered by to all appearances losing (and winning?) an argument with himself, but it still paid to be cautious. "For wanting you to be safe," he finished on, which was safer, if less specific.

"That happens to be one of my own goals as well," she reminded him, though in a softer tone. "But you didn't experience any undue difficulties?"

"OH, I'm definitely on some sort of watch list," Will siad, "but aside from the extended security procedures, it's been uneventful." Remembering the drink on the chair, he added, "but the dark roast makes it all worthwhile," with a smile.

"I would have thought that the pat down would have been torture enough, but I suppose we all have our own little quirks."

"I did consider tea," he let a beat pass for her suspicion to grow. "They only had herbals, but such a selection deserves consideration."

In the silence that followed Will could almost hear Magnus beating back the impulse to respond. He hoped that she could hear his smirk equally well over the phone.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities in London," she finally said, too sweetly, "that is if you can fit it in around Declan's schedule."

"Schedule, yeah, we have to implement a few new," he trailed off mid-sentence, as her tone registered. "Wait, you know what he's planning?" Despite repeated, almost daily, attempts Will had not been able to get any useful information out of Declan. It seemed remarkably unfair that Magnus should get to know when he didn't and was actually the one who was going to be there. "What is it? I, uh, haven't had the chance to ask him yet. Anything exciting?" A little end run wouldn't hurt anything. Will could act surprised with the best of them.

"Oh, yes," she drawled, "and I'm sure it will be a wonderful surprise. Just as Declan has it planned."

Well, Plan A was clearly out. "Come on, I won't tell him you let me know. Just tell me if I need an escape plan. Or a 'no new tattoos' clause."

"But anticipation is half the fun," she could imitate innocence far too well. "I'm sure you'll be delighted. Do tell Declan to fit in some tea. Real tea," her voice bit hard on the final two words.

Will could sense a wrap-up and, as he still had a half-hour wait before boarding, tried to stall for time, "Fine, but you are now officially a co-conspirator. You get equal blame."

"This is between you and Declan," she corrected crisply, "besides, he said you agreed."

"Yes," Will muttered, "before he went all evil."

"He's hardly going to harm you, Will."

"Uh huh," he was less than convinced. Permanent harm, no. Acute embarrassment? Definite possibility.

"Not to leave you in the terrible depths of this quandary, but I do have the network meeting to get to," Magnus said with a buried note of apology.

"Well, say hi to Mace for me," he had decided early on the Mace was definitely Declan.

"I'm not going to ask," she sighed. "Have a safe flight, keep me updated."

"Up until the point that Declan is disposing of my body," Will solemnly promised.

He was getting hung up on a lot from her lately. Given the usual amount of laughter before the hang up, though, he thought it might be a good sign.

One long, long transatlantic flight later, Will stepped into the Heathrow airport with the distinct desire to kiss the ground. He was beginning to despair of ever liking flying. Or at least not hating it. Even when Magnus wasn't at the helm.

Slipping his phone out of his carryon and turning it back on, Will skimmed through his voicemail and email until he ran across one from Declan labeled 'Directions.'

Retrieval set for the same time your plane lands. Sorry, mate, but odds are you'll have to catch a cab. Update you if that changes. See you on our return otherwise.

The lack of private car was a bit of a downer, but if all hands were required the job must be a fairly big one. And maybe Declan would be so worn out that he'd forget all about their night on the town. All week. That was probably a pretty slim hope.

The drive to London Sanctuary passed quickly. The cab driver was pleasant without being overly chatty and Will relaxed into the seat content to pass the time in abbreviated small talk. In spite of inhibiting side effects, cultural courtesies were sometimes an unexpected source of comfort. Will knew that the journey would pass in pleasant non-issues such as the amount of rain in London last week and possible for this week, new restaurants, and the amount of travelers that his driver had seen that week.

In between tidbits of this nature, Will gazed out of the window at the sight of London waking up. It was a different feeling than New York, yet with an undercurrent of the urban hum that was universal, Will mused. Or he was far more tired than he expected.

The London Sanctuary rose before them at last, glowing in the early morning light. He could almost hear the beds calling his name as he paid the driver, exchanged a last goodbye, and shuffled his weary bones towards the front door. Entering his code and schlepping in took all the energy he had left, leaving him propped up on a chair in the entry hall vaguely considering further movement in an abstract sort of way.

"Look what the cat dragged in," it took Will a moment to locate the far too cheerful voice behind the statement.

"Declan," he said blankly when he succeeded.

"I see you made it here in one piece," Declan paused and looked him over again. Will blinked. "Well, more or less. Should I point you in the direction of a bed?"

"Uh," distantly Will remembered that the best way to defeat jet lag was to immediately adapt to the new schedule of time. "No, we should work."

"Not sure what I'd trust you around right now," he sounded doubtful. "Try at least a short nap and get back to me then, alright?"

"Gotta defeat jet lag," he tried to explain.

"That's the best way," Declan explained as he wrapped a hand around Will's upper arm and hauled him upwards. "A short nap to recharge and then proceed as usual. Trust me. Your room's still open," he continued as Will frowned over the hurdle that the stairs posed, "and I'll update on your location."

Will concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and lurched a bit when Declan brought them to a momentary halt as he opened a door. He looked around through the fog enveloping his head and recognized the layout. Or at least enough of it to pick out the bed, which was all that mattered.

"Hm," he hoped that response answered anything Declan might have asked and carefully marched in a straight-enough line towards the pillowy nirvana.

"Hang on there a mo," Declan grabbed Will who protested the halt to his epic trek. "You might be a bit more comfortable without this," he said removing the jacket Will barely remembered putting on. He finally managed to clamber into the bed, momentarily hampered by Declan messing about with his feet, and buried himself in the blankets.

"I'll wake you up in a few hours," Declan sounded amused. "We'll keep it easy today."

There was something trying to kill him. Will started flailing his arms to fend off the attacker. One arm connected in a lucky blow and whatever creature was in the room with him made an 'oomph' sort of noise. Successful in his defense, he clawed off whatever constraining material the creature had caught him in to begin with and stumbled his way to his feet. Fists ready before him for a fight, Will blinked as the dimly lit room began to form along familiar lines.

"Next time," his attacker rumbled as he stood from his landing on the floor, "I'm sending in something with claws to wake you up. Slimy claws."

"Declan?" Will squinted. Memories started to slide into place as his brain joined his body in the Awake World. "Uh," he dropped his hands and shrugged awkwardly, "sorry?"

"Next time, slimy claws," Declan repeated. "I will find a way. For now, it's lunch downstairs if you can restrain yourself."

"Yeah," Will rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly. "I'll be right down. You said something about an easy day, earlier? I hope."

"We can figure it out over lunch, but I was thinking of working on the final stages of transferring over to the new security protocols. Similar to what you were up to in New York last week."

"Sounds good," Will nodded. "And low-key. I like it."

"Oh, and I got a cryptic message from Magnus. Something about getting you proper tea? I suppose she knows how you react to jet lag."

"Ah. Right. Actually, coffee would be better," Will smiled wanly. Yes, caffeine would be wonderful. Especially if anything this afternoon was to involve paperwork.

"Hm, can't do, I'm afraid."

Will was certain that he must have heard that sentence wrong.

"What?"

"The other part of her note. No coffee. Something about a cleanse for proper thinking?"

Will groaned. Always, she always had to have the last word.