Derek stretched out on the comfortable seat the nice woman in the skimpy uniform had pointed out to him. She had told him with glee that he had a ticket for the first class, but he didn't understand what supposedly was so special about the first class. He felt a bit lonely, because as soon as he was in the smaller front section of the airplaine, the woman had pulled a curtain behind them closed, shutting them off from all the other passengers. The only other person seated in the same area was a broad business man sitting right behind Derek. He wore an expensive looking suit and was engrossed into his news magazine, paying no regard at all to Derek as he looked back over his seat and greeted the man with a small wave the way he had seen other people doing it.

Instead of further trying to gain the suits attention, the werewolf sat back in his seat and took in his surroundings. A flat screen was embedded in the back of the seat infront of him and Derek wondered if he would have internet access to use the time spend during the journey to learn more about the humans' history. He inspected all the buttons on his armrest, trying to find out which one of them would turn on the screen when the stewardess with the friendly smile leaned down towards him, a tray full of long, thin glasses in her hands.

„We wanted to excuse ourselves, the plane can't start yet because there are to many birds on the runway right now. Would you like to enjoy a glass of champagne in the meantime?"

Derek was slightly proud that he understood almost everything she had said to him, even though he couldn't fully grasp what the birds had to do with the airplane's ability to fly. But they couldn't start without Stiles on board anyway, so he just nodded curtly and accepted the cool glass she handed him. The golden content looked fascinating with all the little bubbles rising to the surface and sprinkling slightly up into the air. He took a sniff off the champagne and the sweet smell tingled funnily in his nose. Curious as to how it would taste, he took a small sip. His lips puckered up at the stingingly sweet, yet somehow sour taste that filled his mouth, the prickling sensation way too strong on his tongue to be enjoyable. Still, he faked a thankful smile for the nice stewardess, who beamed back at him before she turned towards the other passenger behind him.

Taking the glass in his left hand, he turned his attention back to all the buttons on his seat. He pressed some of them, but nothing seemed to happen. He whelped, when he pulled a small lever under his armrest and the back of his seat suddenly went forward, forcing him to sit in a straight position. In fear of having broken something, he pressed his whole weight against the seat, trying to push it into it's previous position before anyone could notice his mistake. But instead of slowly reclining, the seat whipped back until Derek was nearly in a lying position, the backrest dashing against the stewardess, who was just serving the other passenger, knocking the tray out of her hands.

The man shouted wild profanities as the champagne soaked his expensive suit. Derek immediately pulled back his seat and whisped around. The stewardess was apologizing profusely and tried to dry off the champagne, but the man's face turned an angry shade of red. Another steward rushed over to clean up the shattered glasses.

„Sorry", Derek muttered rueful and the man set his furious eyes in him.

„Are you retarted or something? What a twat, look at my shoes, they're ruined. Ruined!"

Derek held out his own glass of champagne, the last one that was still full, as some kind of peace offering. The man stared at him in disbelieve, before he reverted to his shouting.

„Fucking werewolves! You're just a bunch of uncultured animals, I don't even know why they let you into the first class!"

With some kind words and gentle force, the stewardess persuaded the man out of the seat and towards the toilet, where he could clean himself up. Derek watched him leave with a bleak look. His mood immediately changed for the better as the man and the stewardess disappeared behind the curtain and a second later Stiles came out from behind it with an amused smile on his lips.

„Apipoulai!", he greeted the human relieved.

„Not hard to find you", Stiles said with a smirk. „Just follow the chaos."

He waved his hand for Derek to move over to the other seat and sat down on the werewolf's previous place. „Everyone should have the window seat at their first flight. I promise you, the view is breathtaking. Just don't break in the glass or we all gonna die", he added with a wink of his eye.

Derek's spirit lifted as he saw that Stiles was in such a playfull mood. Wanting to impress the young man, he greeted him once more with a broad, white smile.

„Hi."

The human paused in his fumbling with the backrest's adjustment and raised an eyebrow at Derek.

„Oh, you speak English now?"

„Yes. I learned."

„Good", Stiles nodded to himself. He turned somber and started to fidget again. Derek wondered if he had accidentally said something wrong, but then Stiles took in a deep breath and looked at him with the same honest eyes, that had made Derek trust him the first time they had met in Stiles' taxi.

„Derek, we are not on vaccation. I'm on a mission, a very important mission. And I work for some very important people. If i hadn't come to get you you would be in big trouble, do you understand that?"

Derek nodded his head sternly.

„Do you understand big trouble?"

„Yes."

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked into Stiles eyes, hoping to convey the same honesty as the human.

„You, no trouble. Me, pentachoron, carry fourth dimension. Me protect you."

He laid his palm over the man's twitching fingers and intertwined them with his own.

„Sleep", the werewolf told him in a soft voice. Stiles forced his eyes away from Derek's to look down at their joint hands. Black streaks surfaced where their skin touched and seeped into Derek's arm. With every passing moment, Stiles felt all of his worries fading away and every tension leaving his body.

„No, wait", he objected weakly, but his eyes already drifted shut and his head bobbed to the side against Derek's strong shoulder. At ease, Derek leaned his head against Stiles', his brown locks slightly tingling his face, and looked outside the window as the airplane finally took off.