Szayel laughed and laughed. This was just too priceless. "Santa Teresa's scared! Mwahahaa!"

"Its not funny!" Nnoitra screamed, still not wanting to open his eyes. "This is not a remote-control plane! So stop flying it like it is one!"

"Why not?" Flying in this machine was fun after all…

"Because! We'll die!"

"Oh, Teresa… Come on. We're Espadas. We can't die so easily, you know."

"I don't care! We will still be swished bugs if you miscalculate! AHH!"

"You know…" Szayel muttered, hoping that his ears would be working after they arrived in Vegas. "I wonder if Ned noticed we are missing by now… If not, I don't really mind… But, I can't help but wonder, you know."

"Szayel! Eyes out the window!" Nnoitra screamed, double checking his seat-belt. "Don't talk! Fly! My pretty! Fly!"

Yep… He's lost it…

Szayel turned his attention back to the skies and took the plane straight up.

"AHHH! Fornicaras!" Nnoitra wanted out of this plane right now. He didn't care if he had to jump out of the cockpit. He wanted out, now.

"Why do you keep calling me that?!" Szayel yelled at him, annoyed by the fact he was using his old name.

"Because! I'm upset with you!"

"You can stay that way, Santa Teresa until we get to Las Vegas because we have to get there and-"

"Why are you using my old name too?!" Nnoitra cried, not liking being trapped up in the sky in a small plane with a cross Szayel.

"Because you were using mine and as much as I like it, I think that my new name suits me better."

"I don't think so!" Nnoitra begged to differ, wanting to distract Szayel from his flying so that he flew in a straight line. "Because, Szayelaporro is a really long ass name!"

"Ahaha!" Szayel had to grin, "That's what Yylfordt told me! Who cares though. Besides, flying is helping me think! And I have a plan forming in my head called, maybe it's not impossible to kill Yammy."

"Not imposs…repeat!"

"It's not impossible to kill Yammy." Szayel was all to happy to oblige. "We just have to think outside the box."

"How?" Nnoitra sat back in his seat and finally took a deep breath. "None of our swords can even graze him."

"Swords?" Szayel loved how Nnoitra thought so…normally. "I said nothing about using swords. In fact, we are not going to use any. As you know, we Espada can still be killed if we have massive internal organ damage. Which is a horrible way to go, but… this little fact gives us an advantage. A huge advantage. We find Yammy's house, close all the openings and use a simple thing called Carbon monoxide to finish the job."

"Carbon…what?" Nnoitra still did not understand most Szayel's scientific ramblings after all of these years.

"Carbon Monoxide." Szayel repeated himself, too pleased to be upset with his husband for not getting what he was saying the first time. "It's a natural, but deadly gas that cannot be smelled and it does, forgive the pun, 'murder' to internal organs. I thought of this when I realized we were going to high in the sky and were running out of air outside the plane."

"Szayel." Nnoitra said. "Your thought process is always strange."

"I know. Anyhow, all we need to do is find canisters of Carbon Monoxide and cart them over to Yammy's house and in less than two hours, the job will be done. There is a catch though. Since Yammy can die, we can, so we have be careful not to accidentally get stuck in the house. But I don't see it being a major thing to watch out for…but we should be careful none the less."

"And…" Nnoitra had to ask, "is it going to be messy? Will I have to clean guts off the walls?"

"No. It will not be too messy." Szayel said for the first time in his life.

"…Right…" This was a time to be skeptical. A very good time.

"I mean it, Nnoitra. It will be hardly messy. The only downside to getting rid of Yammy this way, is that we will not get to eat him."

"Why?"

"The poison could kill us." Szayel replied, still so happy about all of this. The plan was so simple! Why had he not thought of it before? "But it is a small price to pay. Now, why don't you turn up the music and-"

"Aircraft 581, come in."

Szayel glanced at the radio transmitter. "Um…Nnoitra? What should we do?"

"Donno. Don't reply?" He suggested.

"Well-"

"Aircraft 581. Come in. This is the United States Air Patrol. come in."

"Shoot." Szayel frowned, realizing that someone figured out the plane was missing from the airfield. "We're screwed."

"So.. Are you going to return the-"

"Aircraft 581. Respond."

"Flyer 426, the craft has been stolen. I repeat, craft has been stolen. This is Base."

"Roger that. Over."

"What, over?"

"Roger. I said, over, Over."

"I'm not Roger, over."

"Whatever."

Szayel and Nnoitra shared a long look. What now? "I suppose we should…reply, Nnoitra."

He glanced out the window and turned to Szayel. "Where are we though? I mean… I would hate to…" Nnoitra peered out the window for another second.

"We are right over the outskirts of Vegas by now… We've been flying for a good half an hour and at the speed we were-"

"Surrender your aircraft, 851. This is a direct order from the United States Air Patrol."

"As I was saying, that since we flew instead of walked," Szayel continued, ignoring the radio and the two dangerous looking aircrafts that had appearing in the sky next to them. "So, if we jump right out, we could still land where we need to be."

"But what if the fall kills us?" Nnoitra was not going to let his internal organs get turned to jelly by the impact.

"Then… we're dead." Szayel muttered, turning to craft a little to the left. "Or, we-" something went through the right wing, causing the airplane to shudder. "Get shot to death. I am hoping that our Hierro will suffice for the fall." He turned on the Autopilot with a press of a button and walked over to the small door behind the co-pilot's seat. "And now… We open this and-"

"Wait!" Nnoitra cried just as he reached for the handle. "How far is the drop! I don't mind a few-"

The right wing was filled with hundreds of holes.

"Gunshots."

"What ever!" Szayel unbolted the door with ease and threw it open. "Get over here!" He screamed, trying to be heard over the wind that threatened to knock him off his feet.

"No!" On second thought, Nnoitra would rather go down the the airplane. "I don't want to-" Szayel glared at him. "Okay!"

"Good!" He moved out of the way and waited. "Well?!"

"I…" Nnoitra stared at the city below, paralyzed. "I can't. Jump…"

"You have three seconds!" Szayel screamed at him, feeling the plane ready to give out. "One…"

"Szayel! I can't-"

"Two…"

"It's so-"

Szayel shoved Nnoitra out of the open doorway and into the sky before following.

Author's Note: Yes. That is surely Airplane! And don't call me Shirley! Hehe. I cannot even begin to imagine how Szayel flew when he had useable wings...