Nice to see you Jack. Take care of my son." Was all she said before kissing Mitchell's cheek and running off to catch her plane. "Pssht.. She means MY son, at least for two months you are little man." He chuckled and set Mitchell down on his feet. "We better run." Was all he said as he glanced at the clock that was on the wall, both of them sprinting to get to the gate just in time. "We made it!" Mitchell let out with a hard huff from the run. "Sure did." Jack replied as he winked to the flight attendant and boarded to find his seat. As soon as the plane was in the air Jack had already managed to get that same attendant to his seat five times. They giggled and flirted which made Mitchell shake his head and sigh, plugging in his headphones to tune them out. As the flight got about an hour into it Jack had told him he needed to "go to the bathroom" which really meant "see you in thirty minutes". Mitchell nodded and frowned deeply but sat and watched the television. Jack's massive body. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she warned. ‘I have no choice right now but to be your prisoner, but if you think I’ll just let you get your kicks with me, you’re sadly mistaken.’ The man laughed, shaking his head as he waved his hand toward the chair she’d just vacated. He took the seat opposite, still giggling insanely. ‘You’ve nothing to fear from me in that quarter, Mrs. Pavli. I don’t suffer the base urges of the human male.’ ‘Yeah, right,’ she said, cautiously perching on the chair again. ‘After what you let your men do to poor Lorette downstairs, I find that hard to believe.’ Oleander was thoughtful, holding silent when a man in a morning suit entered, bearing a large silver tray. Camille recognized the man as the one who had dragged her from the dining room to the dungeon. She eyed him suspiciously, finding only the same stoic expression she’d seen on his face that night. He poured the tea, adding a teaspoon of sugar and a slice of lemon to Camille’s cup. ‘Thank you, Olaf,’ Oleander said,.
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