A/N: Yes I understand that I've neglected this fic. I deeply apologize to everyone who have been reading, particularily Cat for whom this fic is for. I hit a huge brick wall with this fic but I think I've gotten back on track since I've been writing so much as of late. Thank you to all the reviewers and lurkers. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Flight 1810 (Cookies for those who figure out what that means).

Chapter 4: Aviophobic Reactions

"Welcome aboard Flight 1810, nonstop to Washington D.C., this is your Captain speaking…"

Jane tuned out the monotonous voice coming through the intercom, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. Aside from a minor incident with the stewardess about the proper way to make tea, he thought he had been on his best behavior. He was able to control the anxiety he felt being confined to a tin can, thousands of feet in the air. Unlike his travel companion. He turned to face Lisbon, immediately detecting the tension emanating from her.

"Isn't this fun?" he exclaimed, gently nudging her elbow on the armrest they were sharing.

"Oh yeah, it's a party."

Lisbon's sarcastic remark caused him to frown. He knew the case was taking a toll on her, especially since she had a rather personal connection to the case. Although she had never said it, Jane knew her relationship with Letko had been close. And knowing Lisbon, he also knew she was festering with immense guilt over his death.

"You know what we need?"

"No, but I get the feeling you're going to tell me even though I don't care."

"Peanuts," he answered breezily. "I want some."

"Stop being so demanding, we're not in business class."

"Ever wonder why they stopped serving peanuts on planes?"

"Not really."

"Personally, I think they should reinstate that policy."

"Take it up with the FAA."

"Now that is an excellent idea."

"Great! Now will you be quiet so that I can sleep?"

"You won't be able to sleep. No point trying."

He listened to her restlessly adjust and readjust her pillow. She gave up on the hopeless task after only a few minutes.

"I can't believe you booked us on the red-eye," she muttered irritably.

"Hey, don't blame me, blame Van Pelt."

"I'm not stuck listening to her complain about peanuts or lack thereof."

"She's not here to defend herself. Ergo, more reason to blame her."

"I'm going to ignore you now.

"You can try all yo…"

Jane was cut off as the plane jerked to the right before taking a sudden plunge in altitude. Instinctively, he grabbed a hold of Lisbon's hand. He had forgotten just how much he hated flying. Back when he was travelling from city to city, during his days masquerading as a psychic, he used to enjoy flying. Champagne, beautiful women, first class, all the way. The seatbelt sign chimed on as the plane tossed about for a couple heart stopping minutes before eventually leveling out.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the unexpected turbulence…"

"You okay?" she asked gently.

He took a moment to regain control of his breathing.

"Yeah," he replied. "You?"

"Yeah."

They fell into an awkward silence.

"You can let go now," she whispered.

Releasing his death grip on her, Jane gently patted the back of her hand.

"Right, sorry."

"Uh huh," she replied. "I didn't know that the great Patrick Jane was afraid of flying."

"I am not afraid of flying."

"Oh really? Is that why you nearly crushed my hand?"

"If I recall correctly, you were equally crushing my hand."

"Please, I was not."

"Was too."

"Was not."

"Uh, excuse me?"

A quiet, yet stern voice interrupted their bickering, belonging to an elderly woman sitting in the row ahead of them.

"I'm sorry, but my husband isn't feeling too well. So if you could keep it down, I would really appreciate it."

"My apologies, ma'am," Lisbon mumbled.

Jane smirked at the blush that he imagined was coloring Lisbon's cheeks.

"Thank you."

The seat in front of Jane squeaked as the woman sat back down.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Hush, James, you need your rest."

"You worry too much. Besides, they kind of remind me of us when we were first dating."

"Stop it," Lisbon hissed in his ear.

Jane grinned at the irritated tone of her voice as he carefully leaned over to retrieve the pack stowed at his feet.

"Stop what?" he questioned innocently.

"Eavesdropping. It's rude."

"How do you know I was eavesdropping if you weren't doing the exact same thing?"

"I-I was doing no such thing," she huffed.

"I'm blind, Lisbon, not stupid."

"That is clearly debatable."

"But I am blind."

Jane waved his free hand in front of his eyes as though to prove his point.

"Now, why don't you tell me why you're really upset?"

"I'm not upset."

"Denial is not just a river in Egypt."

"And people think we are a couple?"

He had hoped perhaps she would open up to him, but he couldn't help but be a tad intrigued by her response.

"Not the first time," he shrugged off. "Certainly won't be the last."

"I don't get it."

"Why do you say that?"

The question was uttered purely by reflex, just as his impulse to grab her hand was when the plane had hit the rough pocket of air. He felt irrationally hurt by her assessment of a potential relationship between them, no matter how improbable that chance may have been.

"Because…" she was quiet for an uncomfortably long time.

"We're both attractive, intelligent individuals, so why not?"

The silence was unnerving. He could almost hear the wheels spinning frantically in her mind.

"Y-you think I'm attractive?"

There was an unusual tinge of uncertainty in her voice. He had expected her to laugh off his pathetic attempt at a compliment. Stopping his search through his bag, he turned towards her, his mouth crinkling into a smile.

"Oh Lisbon, no need to fret. I know you're a stickler for professional boundaries, but I am a man after all."

He meant what he said. And if he had to be completely honest with himself, he couldn't ignore the tiny part of him that flirted with the possibility of a romance with Lisbon. That was of course, if he had not been still very much in love with his wife.

The plane decided to make use of the brief pause in conversation to take another dive. This time it was Lisbon who grabbed a hold of his hand first. When the second spell of turbulence had passed, she pulled away from him.

"If we survive this flight, we are driving back to Sacramento."

"Is this your subtle way of saying that you wouldn't mind spending time stuck in a cramped car with me?"

"You know on second thought, I'll take my chances with the plane."

He chuckled, pleased that the brief tension between them had dissipated as he resumed rummaging through his bag.

"What are you looking for?"

"I know I've got it here somewhere, in here… Eureka!"

"Could you be any louder?" she scolded in a whisper.

"Oh, sorry," he said lowering his voice. "Eureka."

He could only imagine her rolling her eyes and was mildly surprised when he felt saddened at the fact he couldn't actually see it for himself.

"Gravol? That's what warranted a 'eureka'?"

Reaching out in front of him, he managed to locate the crack between the seats where he slid the sleeve of capsules through.

"James," he called out, "I think this should help with the motion sickness."

"Oh," a surprised voice replied, "thank you very much."

"You're very welcome."

Jane happily leaned back in his seat.

"That was nice of you," Lisbon said begrudgingly.

"I do have my moments," he replied. "So are you going to re-evaluate our mini road trip?"

"Let me think about that. No."

And although she attempted to sound irritated, he felt content knowing he was able to make a smile worthy of feeling to appear across her face.

TBC...

Chapter 5 Preview

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath.

"I told you so."

"How did you know she wasn't home?"

"ESP."