A/N: Sorry for the delay. I've been busy with presentations for my classes for the past 2 weeks and guy drama [rolls eyes]. But that's done, so here you go.

Enjoy!

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After about two minutes of us standing there, the overhead breathing masks dropped from the ceilings. I furrowed my brow at Latricia...it didn't make any sense; there was no change in pressure in the cabin.

Former pilot, remember? Of course I could tell if something wasn't right.

"What is it, Jo?" Latricia asked with concerned, noticing my look.

"We haven't lost pressure," I said. "But we might as well humor the passengers, since no one will listen to me anyway," I sighed.

We went to the closet to get the portable canisters of oxygen, then went through first class to make sure they had the masks on, then moved to business to do the same. Once we made sure our classes had their masks on properly, I moved into coach to see if they needed any help. A woman was freaking out because the strap on her mask was broken, so I went to her row, and gave her my portable one. She calmed down a little, then I walked back to first and business, looking for another canister to carry around (not to use).

Just as I took another canister out of the closet, all the lights went out, leaving only the monitors in the seats on.

"Wonderful," I muttered, closing the closet, and moving back to business.

As soon as I reached business, the monitors went out, blanketing the cabin in complete darkness and making the passengers freak out even more. For a moment, I wondered where Latricia went, but figured she was helping out back in coach since things were okay in first and business.

The emergency aisle lights came on while I was attempting to explain to some people in the first row in business that there was nothing to worry about. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flashlight, then looked over to see Rich walk purposefully through the class (no longer wearing his jacket).

"Where is she?!" I heard him question someone...possibly Carson?

After the people understood that there was no change in pressure, I moved on to tell other passengers a few rows back what I had just told the front row. I continued to do this every few rows until I was through the class.

Rich walked up to me, taking my arm by the elbow, and tugging me with him while he headed back towards the flight deck.

"I'll need your help," he said over his shoulder as we continued walking.

"With what?" I asked.

"Getting these bloody lights back on."

He was angry and I'm sure it was directed at Miss Pratt, but if he didn't relax, he wasn't going to be the only one pissed off.

Once we reached the flight deck, he opened the door, and both of us walked in. Rich went over to Lars and looked at the read outs.

"Are we near land?" he asked Lars.

"We are near Newfoundland," Lars replied.

"Okay, radio the nearest airport and tell them we need to land. If they ask why, say that we have a situation," Rich instructed. "Once you get an okay, start descending."

Lars nodded, then put on a headset.

Rich then picked up the service phone and made an announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. There is no need to panic and there is no need for the masks. We're having a slight technical difficulty, and once that is taken care of, the lights should return. Please remain calm while the situation gets fixed," he said, then sighed once he hung up the phone.

Rich went to the other side of his seat, bent down, and grabbed a small tool kit. Coming back over to me, he handed me the tools, then kept walking over to the cot. Stepping up on it, he opened the trap door that lead to the attic, then stepped back down to the floor.

"I guess I'm coming up too, huh?" I asked, walking over to him.

"Yes," he grunted, still scowling, and looking through the trap door.

"Rich," I said softly, placing my hand on his arm.

He didn't say anything, just looked down at me.

"Relax. Please. The more pissed off you get, the more you're bound to make someone else pissed off," I said, looking him in the eye. "And it might start with me. I don't want to fight with you or anyone else."

After staring back at me for a few moments, I saw his shoulders slump slightly as he bowed his head. Putting my fingers under his chin, I lifted his head, then smirked at him.

"When we have the chance, I owe you a massage."

He laughed shortly as I took my hand away from his face. "You better."

"Okay, come on. Let's get these lights back on," I continued to grin.

After a nod, Rich reached up and pulled himself up through the trap door. Sitting on the edge, dangling his feet, he held a hand down to me. I put the tools in his hand.

"Oh, very funny," he said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not climbing up there holding a pack of tools in my hand," I replied.

He set the tools next to him, then held both hands down to me.

"I can get up on my own, you know."

"Why do that when I'm here? Now, give me your hands."

I snorted softly, grinning, then lifted my hands up to Rich. He grabbed a hold of my wrists (and I grabbed his) and as I jumped, he pulled me up easily, setting me next to him as my feet also hung down...good thing I was wearing pants and not a damn skirt.

We both stood, having to bend to prevent hitting our heads, and picked up the tools as we went over to the electronic control box. The doors to it were open, indicating that someone had tampered with it.

"Pratt..." Rich growled, looking over the damage.

"It's not that bad...I mean besides the fact that she scared the shit out of over four hundred people," I said, with my hands on my hips, also looking at the damage.

Rich took a sidelong look at me. "Are you serious?"

"Well, look," I looked back at him, then pointed to the box. "She just moved the cable for the masks, which made them fall, and pulled the jack off the cable for the lights. She probably..."

"Shorted it out by touching the exposed wires to one of the other jacks," Rich finished my sentence. "Yes, I see that."

"See? It could have been worse. She could have pulled out all the cables."

Ever the optimist, I am.

"Yes, much worse," he whispered, then kneeled in front of the box.

"She just wants to find her daughter," I said softly.

"No one believes her daughter is alive, Jo. Are you saying you believe her?" he turned his head to look up at me.

I kneeled next to him. "Yes, I do. I find it very hard to think she's imagining the whole thing even if she's under medication," I put a hand on his arm, then sighed, looking away from him momentarily. "You know what? Forget I said anything. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen."

"Didn't want what to happen?"

"I don't want to fight with you about this, Rich," I whispered, leaning my forehead against his shoulder.

The last thing either one of us needed was to be at odds with the other...not on top of all this other shit that was going on.

Rich sighed, then brought his arm up to my back. "Jo, look at me," he said softly, after a moment.

After a sniff, I lifted my head.

He took his hand off my back and brought it to my cheek, where his other hand joined on the other side. "We're not fighting, Love. We're not even arguing. Just do me a favor: do not compare your life to hers. They are completely different."

I closed my eyes and pursed my lips together. Tilting my head down, Rich moved his hands from my cheeks to my back and shoulders, my head resting against his chest. After another moment, I lifted my head, looking into his gray-green eyes.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," I finally said quietly.

Rich grinned slightly, then leaned towards me, giving me a reassuring kiss.

"Let's get this plane back on track, huh?" I said after we parted.

"That would be good."

After Rich let go of me, he rolled up his sleeves as I opened the tool kit and took out the tools and supplies we were going to need.

Hey, just because I'm a woman, doesn't mean I don't know how to fix things.

Looking at the floor, I saw the jack that Miss Pratt pulled off. Picking it up, I gave it to Rich as he picked up the tool he needed to put the jack securely back in place. While he did that, I took the overhead mask cable out of where it was and put it back in it's rightful place.

As I sat there waiting for Rich to finish, I heard and felt the plane start its descent.

When Rich finished reattaching the jack, he handed me the tools. While I put the tools back in the kit, he closed and locked the doors to the electrical box. Once that was taken care of, we headed back to the trap door, where Rich climbed down first. I tossed him the tool kit, then jumped down myself when he went to put it away.

When I landed, my ankle gave way (I blame it on the shoes), and I tumbled to the ground, with an 'oww' and a groan.

"Jo," Rich said, turning around after setting down the kit, and rushing over to me, kneeling at my side. "Are you all right?"

Worry was clearly in his voice and on his face.

I saw Lars look over his shoulder at me.

"I'm fine, Rich. I just landed wrong," I replied, taking off my shoe and rubbing my ankle.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He gave me a disbelieving look without the worry vanishing, but stood up. "Stay there. I'll be right back. I'm just going to check things," he said, pointing a warning finger at me.

"I won't go anywhere," I gave in, not even bothering to try and argue with him…since I didn't want to anyway.

He leaned down to put his hand on my cheek before straightening and leaving the cockpit.

A/N: There ya go. Did you like it? Too forced, corney? Let me know in a review, please.