Something He Can't Quite Remember

Jet-lag Also Isn't Getting Anybody Anywhere

HEATHROW AIRPORT, LONDON, ENGLAND

"Where the hell are we?" asked James groggily. Hero sighed. Could he have looked at any flight information from when they arrived in Washington to when they touched down at Heathrow. No, that was too easy for multi-billionaire techno-genius James Carter. Could he have asked the air hostess that had fallen head-over-heels for him during take-off? No, James Carter was too noble to force a woman to do anything, let alone their jobs. Could he have asked her? No, because despite the fact that he had agreed to have her rescue him from certain death at the hands of a crazed vengeance-driven mafia leader everything was somehow her fault, and therefore he had only spoken in monosyllables up until this point. She was trying to look at it that way, as admitting to herself that she was attempting to kidnap him for her own ends placed her in a slightly less positive light.

"Heathrow. London, England," she replied shortly. "Two can play at this game, Jamie," she muttered. She knew she was being very rude, but she felt entitled to be for several reasons. Firstly, up until a year ago, James had been her best friend. Secondly, she was rescuing him from Jones. Sort of. But most importantly, she was jet-lagged, and perfectly allowed to be grumpy.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked sarcastically. Damn.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just a little frustrated at your ingratitude," she replied, her voice full of false brightness. There.

"Sorry, Miss Pierce. If I'd believed gratitude was deserved I would have expressed it."

"Would you like a long explanation or a short explanation of why you owe everything to me?" she said, quietly, as she knew that lying was her forte and she preferred concocting stories to telling the truth. Lies were less painful.

"Oh, the long explanation, definitely."

Hero raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure you want to hear it."

James, tired, disoriented and extremely irritated, filed that for later use and made the executive decision that he didn't. Perhaps the best idea was polite small talk.

"So what's your favourite colour, Miss Pierce?" he asked, and Hero burst out laughing. "Okay..." he continued, not to be dispersuaded. "Do you have any family, Miss Pierce?" Hero looked at him over her shoulder. "Mum, dad, boyfriend, fiance....?" Her eyebrows rose. James fell silent.

"There was this one guy. He left me a long time ago."

"Really? I can't imagine why anyone would leave someone as perfect as you," James said, only partially sarcastically.

Hero just shrugged. "Perhaps you should ask him."

Author's Note: Right, this is a little short, it's sort of a little filler, to demonstrate the building tension between the characters. Don't I sound posh.