So remember how I said once band season started up again, I'd have more inspiration to write this, and how that never actually happened? And how I told myself once concert season started I'd have time? Well, concert season's ended, so I'M UPDATING FOR YOU! You all have no idea how much I love you, especially those of you who've stuck around for a long time, ever dealing with my sporadic updates.

I own little to none! (I'll try not to make it into a soap opera)

P.S. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW, FAVORITE, OR FOLLOW

"Di, would you stop speed-DIEGO!" Sid shrieked as his friend ran a stop sign. "DIEGO WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"

"SID, WE'RE IN THE FREAKIN' RESIDENTIAL STREETS STILL, CALM DOWN." Diego barked, one hand on the wheel and the other dialing Buck over and over again.

"'Allo, 'tis Buck, me laddie, an' if ye care to leave a message-"

Diego slammed the phone down on Sid's thigh and cursed. Sid eyed him and clutched the side of the door, prepared to go into panicked fledgeling mode at any second.

"It's very unnerving to see you like this, would you mind expl-"

"Do you have his sister's phone number?" Diego snapped, swerving dangerously into the fast lane.

"Who?"

"BUCK, SID. I NEED TO TALK TO HIM. NOW."

"Is this about the fight?"

"NO! Well, yes. But also-"

"Oh, riiiiiiight. Shira's gone, that thing?"

Diego flexed his fingers against the wheel.

"Please, Sid. just get me her number."

"Alright, alright, gees Louise." Sid dialed Ellie.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey, Ellie," Sid chirped, "The Tiger needs someone's number."

"Whose?"

"A girl's?"

"Whose, again?" Ellie sounded impatient.

"Buck's sister..."

"I gotcha."

She recited the digits to him, and shortly thereafter, Sid dialed the given number as well. (Diego nearly ran several red lights and bypassed numerous stop signs while Sid pressed the redial button over and over again. )

Nobody answered, and the car was still a flurry of shouting, panic, and redialing.

"DIEGO CALM DOWN PLEASE-"

"Please leave a message-"

"SID WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP YELLING?" Diego roared.

"WELL, I'D STOP YELLING IF YOU'D STOP-GAAAAAAAH!" Sid ducked and squeezed his eyes shut.

"SID-Holy," Diego slammed the brakes as the putrid scent of burnt rubber and smoke arose.

The car jolted; the phone fell from Sid's sweaty palm to the floor, unnoticed.

"Bucky, c'mon, le's go now. Grab yer case," Buck looked up at his sister as though peering through gel.

"I'm sorry?"

"Ya lug, we're leavin'," she sighed exasperatedly. The young woman slammed her door shut and marched around the car to the followed her with his eyes before darting out of the passenger side to help her.

"Ah, Cressy, calm down," he teased. She tripped him and they both slid on the wet pavement, laughing.

"Yer it!" he tapped her pale hand and dashed between cars, narrowly avoiding a Honda. The driver rolled down his window angrily.

"Watch where you're going, you-" The stocky driver's voice whipped away on the wind, carried away unheard from the landslide of rain and luggage. Cressida and Buck dissolved in each other's arms, supporting each other as the watery tears poured down their hair, clothes, bags. Following in his elder's lead, Buck composed himself and beelined through the parking lot to the airport's doors.

While the ceilings were not so grand as the Central Stations, the high-risen top of the airport here had never ceased to dazzle Buck to some small degree, filling him, always, with childish wonder. He stopped to catch his breath, jacket streaming, as his sister dove into the mess of crowd. Hiking up his sleeves, Buck tailed after her. He sighed, stopped, and unzipped the jacket. Frustrated and rushed, the continued walking at a rapid pace as he despairingly tried to pull the garment off with half a hand readily available. He walked into a wall of tattoos.

"Augh, I'm sorry, sir-" He stumbled away from the glaring, muscled giant. Unbeknownst to the sixteen year old, a slim, black phone had slipped out of his pocket and onto the floor. A young man, blond and athletic looking, picked it up, looked around for a possible owner, and shrugged. Had Buck looked for it, even then it would have been lost. Gone forever.

The athlete boarded a plane to Denver, and the Brit was ushered to security.

"Buck," Cressida tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder, "take my phone from me pocke' and put it on airplane mode."

"Now?" Buck shook out his dripping coat, earning an annoyed glance from several surrounding women.

"Please," Cressida enunciated vexedly. Airports are taxing.

Buck reached daintily into his sister's red pocket and pulled out the device with two fingers. Feeling a bit show-offy, Buck flipped it into the air and caught it with ease. His sister missed the pridefully executed feat, and the youth's smirk gradually faded as no one took notice. He did what was needed and put it back where it had lain previous to his minute circus act. Impatiently, he sighed and fidgeted.

"Would you stop?" Cressida whispered anxiously, turning to her brother. He sucked in his lips and nodded slightly, stiffening. His fingers lightly danced across his thighs. He made a face and Cressida eyed him judgmentally. Buck almost laughed.

Above the din and through a gap in the crowd he caught sight of a small, fair girl with a dark fringe struggling against her tired mother. The soft faced, Asian woman set down a violin case and lifted her daughter.

Buck cringed.