Cas was correct in saying that we had a lot ahead of us. Each day felt like a new location, a new town, a new city. Every morning Patricja would sit down with all five of us to run through the day's proceedings; a breakfast here, brunch there, luncheon over there and dinner maybe if it were a lucky one.

If I came on this trip to see Cas, that was promptly and quickly shut down. We'd catch one another in doorways and across the room and after the morning meeting. On a good day, I'd travel with him to inspections and take notes as he worked through issues with diplomats and veterans alike.

In another timeline, I'd probably be a lot more worried about my family and homesick. There wasn't time for that. On a brief afternoon, Cas had wiped the phone and handed it over to me. A lost item that I'd never fully returned, it seemed. Contacting my family was irregular at best, I stole quick moments on the toilet and before I let myself fall into sleep.

While my work duties mostly went unspoken, I decided to take up a few in the meantime. I followed Cas and Patricja to events, shadowing him as photos were taken and smiles were made. Under my arm was a tablet that Patricja had dubbed 'for work'. When a particularly useful thought or comment arrived in conversation came up, I would note it down to consider for later. On Friday, I gave my first weekly report; a summary of questions that had arisen, major points to address and potential solutions that we'd found. It hadn't been requested yet Cas was pleased nonetheless. He promised to read it. I went to sleep with that assurance, yet knowing that he probably couldn't afford the time.

From Sunday to Friday, we only spent two overnights on the plane, which Patricja noted as 'incredibly unusual'. I didn't mind. I preferred the familiarity of the plane to the various homesteads and hotels that we had to jump in between. If it were up to me, I'd probably spend the majority of my time sleeping on the plane. It'd become my home away from home, in a sense.

It was Saturday. We were in the air, taking a longer route between two cities on the opposite sides of the country, when I began to notice particular things about my travelling companions. Patricja liked being in the largest group on the plane. Wether it was for planning or mental comfort. If Vlad and Cas were having a serious conversation by the table, she'd hang out on the couches. Patricja was also married, apparently of almost six years! Normally open and bubbly about anything else, she skirted conversation of her spouse and family whenever possible. One time I noticed she twisted her ring more than usual. It's none of my business unless she lets me know. And I dismissed the notions that arrived.

Marek was open at first. Usually the positive vibes for the group, he'd often stroll into the plane, throwing his hands in the air, declaring his arrival back. Marek always arrived in the morning with his impenetrable hair and a slight touch of eyeshadow that would make most of the elderly back home look at one another with a look.

Vlad was a little different, usually naturally relegating himself to the corner of a conversation. I figured that this gave him better perspective of the room and any threats that were to arrive. Often stony-faced, Vlad only truly relaxed when we were up in the air. I guess that was the time where Cas would be least vulnerable.

Cas, who I got to know the least throughout this trip, was constantly and consistently working. If he wasn't doing photo ops at historical landmarks, then it was services at war memorials and if it wasn't that, then it was barrack inspection, or negotiations over a meal. I quickly learnt that Cas was both the royal and state representative for serious manufacturing contracts. He held the weight of negotiation and representation. For a little while, I even questioned the need for a Minister of Defence.

On Monday, we were in a larger city for a military parade. Cas had just finished a barracks inspection and the team had a brief moment of peace in the hotel before Cas would be the forerunner of the parade.

Normally, when we were on the ground, the men and women were on different floors. This had been recommended by Patricja apparently ages prior.

"It's fantastic for shutting down gossip," She nodded. "I've saved us so many scandals through that alone,"

I didn't want to mention how Cas had only recently re-appeared in the public eye so scandals would probably be a minimum. However Patricja seemed happy so I kept my mouth shut.

Keeping us on different levels meant a bit of a drama when asking Marek how to adjust something on my phone. Patricja was out finalising details for the parade and subsequent late lunch. There was also a press conference afterwards, she sighed. More to organise!

It was a long hall and Marek confirmed on how to find deleted notes. My phone back to a normal state, I'd left his room with a thanks, standing now alone in the hallway. At the end, the elevator dinged to our floor. Out stepped Cas and Vlad in a heated conversation.

"... Insurgents, killing eight people! That's-. Sofia!" The two looked to me suddenly.

"Don't mind me!" I tried not to squeak, "Marek was helping me with something on my phone but it's all good now!"

"All good," Vlad nodded, his lips pressed in a straight line. Cas was a little softer.

"Day been treating you well?" He asked, his voice gentle, my chest fluttered.

"It has been, mostly finalising everything for another report," I did my best to smile.

"That sounds good," Cas nodded, an obligatory smile on his lips. A small part of me crushed though I was unsure why. He looked to Vlad, passing me into his room, "better get ready for tonight, have the night off Sofia, you've earned it,"

That smile was a little more genuine. I returned it, nodding.

I returned to my room, feeling uncertain. What was I doing? A part of me sparked, I wondered angrily, why am I here? If Cas can tell me to just 'take the night off' scott free then does that mean I'm not doing enough? My thoughts swirling, I sat down.

He's just being nice, another part of me insisted, he knows you're slowly being eased into it.

That night, after the gala, we all boarded the plane to shoot across to the next destination. Cas seemed spent- his temper sparking at the edges. It didn't help that a mishap with meal coordination had left us at bare minimum for a proper dinner. Marek, Vlad and Patricja didn't want to say anything but I knew they hadn't probably been able to catch a meal at any time throughout the day. Instead they sat, biting their knuckles.

"I should've grabbed some fast food," Patricja murmured, "I'm sorry,"

A chorus of 'it's okay' and 'don't worry about it'. I tapped my chin, thoughtfully, suddenly standing. In the kitchen, of which all of us had already rummaged through, there were a few items here and there. I found a cob of corn, last night's leftover chicken in the fridge, a sporadic gathering of greens, a bag of chips, a loaf of uncut bread. My mind began working, running through the recipes my mother had embedded into me as a child.

It was only an hour and a half flight as we travelled to our next destination. Patricja had let us know that we were staying at a hotel.

"No, it doesn't have dinner that late, but I'm sure we can get room service," She'd sighed. Eating on the jet was often a nightmare for any experienced planning coordinator. We got that, so we'd shut our mouths.

But maybe, I thought to myself, maybe we don't have to spend an hour and a half snacking on M&Ms.

I remembered Vlad had told me about the dangers of things that could be spilled on planes. While soup would probably cause a nightmare, there wasn't a better option. The stovetop was easy enough to find- also another unconventional addition to the plane. Marek had told me about how one's tastebuds often became a little more bland while flying. I decided to add another stock cube just in case.

"What's that?" Vlad, a little depleted from the day, opened the door.

"Chicken soup," I grinned, finishing the simmer while bracing myself against the wall with the other hand.

"That's a little risky," he chuckled.

"Worth the risk," I grinned back, "help me lay this out," I sectioned off the soup into five bowls, pausing for a moment, wondering if Cas was interested enough for one. Vlad nodded, assuring me that he would be.

We hit a bought of turbulence as soon as I placed down the pot. The bowls sloshed but nothing spilled. Vlad narrowed his eyes.

"We've got something for this," He reached past me, into the cupboard. Pulling five, clear disks out of there; a type of covering so the bowls wouldn't spill.

"That's probably a better idea," I admitted. Soon enough, the soup was being handed out to the crew. I watched as everyone ate, a triumphant smirk on my face.

The only person left... Aware that he was probably working, I knocked as firmly as I could.

A few moments, "Come in,"

The door slid back, Cas was at his desk, papers spread across its surface. A tv took up one wall, silently playing the national woes of the outside world. In the corner, as the plane sloped into its tail, Cas' bed was niched into a little nook. A cabinet of work and other homely items took up another wall.

"I know it's not really a plane food but I made some chicken soup if you'd like?"

Cas looked up, his working frown easing away, "That smells delicious, yes thank you,"

I grinned, taking a few steps inside and holding out the meal. Cas stood to receive it. For a brief second, out hands brushed.

Don't blush, don't blush.

Suddenly I realised that this was the first time we'd been alone this whole trip. Had I been expecting for something to happen? I wasn't sure. In that moment, I couldn't tell either. The tour had taken a toll on Cas. He'd had half a day's break on Friday, aside from that it'd been constant work. His hair still had the gel from the dinner party in it. His eyes lagged a little and I constantly caught him clenching them shut just to stay awake.

"Much happening there?" I nodded to his desk. Cas turned to look over, he sighed, turning back to me.

"Just compiling a report to let my family know that it was a productive trip and how,"

"Was it a productive trip?" I asked playfully. Cas smiled to himself, tracing the cover of the soup. He looked back up.

"In ways they probably don't know yet,"

"Well," I took a few steps back, reaching the door, "I better leave you to it then,"

"Thank you," he nodded, motioning to the soup.

"Happy to help," I gave a lasting grin before sliding the door shut.

The buzz of helping out the other members of the crew ebbed away as I laid on my hotel bed. Between a delayed landing, a mixup here and there and a trip to the hotel, the clock had now clicked over to Tuesday. Soon, I'd be seeing my family, I took solace in that. I wondered if Mum had been okay, if Klara had actually helped out at home, if Hanna had been enjoying her trip. I wanted to see my family badly. While the pay had been good and the memories made fantastic, I wished for the people I knew better than any else.

That was the third night I'd fallen asleep with tears on my borrowed pillowcase.