sailorstkwrning

"Spencer," Zack says. "Twenty hours."

Spencer lowers the video controller to his lap and twists around to look at Zack. His expression is both set and wary.

"Twenty hours," Spencer repeats, trying to absorb the idea of being on a plane for almost an entire day. "No breaks?"

"One layover, but it's only two hours."

Two hours is barely enough to replenish their snacks and get them all through the airport bookstore, never mind rehydrating Ryan. Spencer turns back to the tv, traces the raised designs on the game controller and listens to Zack flip pages. Twenty hours.

"Also, for both Continental and BA, he'd have to travel in the hold," Zack says. "Virgin we could negotiate the cabin, I think."

"The -- what -- fuck that," Spencer says, dropping the controller and standing up. "We just -"

He stops, cutting himself off, suddenly unwilling to look at Zack. It's not like it's really a surprise; it had come up back when they were first asked about touring overseas. But back then they'd hardly gone anywhere at all. They had had no idea what Ryan's limits were.

"It's eight months away," Zack says softly.

"I'll talk to him," Spencer says. "All of the guys, I'll talk to them. We'll figure something out."

"All right," Zack says, and bends over his paperwork.

Spencer goes in the back lounge to think, but gets distracted when he finds Brendon already there, and watching Die Hard again. Brendon pats the couch next to him and Spencer sits down.

"Twenty hours," he says, and Brendon gives him a blank look. "On the plane, to Australia."

"Shit," Brendon says, his fingers hovering over the pause button.

"Yeah," Spencer says, and curls up against Brendon's shoulder.

They watch the rest of the movie.

**

Two days later, Spencer comes off the bus to find Ryan dozing in his kiddie pool and Brendon standing over him, wearing his underpants and a thoughtful expression. Jon Walker is loitering nearby with a tape-measure and a pad of paper. Brendon's clothes are in a heap on Zack's chair.

"The fuck are you doing?" Spencer says, but quietly; Ryan get so little sleep, they never want to wake him.

Brendon ignores him, leans down so that his arms are bracketing the edges of the tangle of Ryan's tentacles, his hands hovering carefully above the water, then stands up without moving his arms. Jon walks over, measures the space between his fingertips, and makes a note on the pad of paper.

"Brendon," Spencer hisses, and Brendon steps out of the pool.

Ryan bubbles softly and rolls over, rubbing his nose in his sleep.

"It's an experiment," Brendon whispers, pulling his jeans on.

Spencer turns to look at Jon, who gives him an innocent expression.

"Dude, we're not experimenting on Ryan," Brendon says, his voice further muffled while he wriggles his t-shirt on. "We're just -- Jon had an idea, about the airplane problem."

Spencer arches an eyebrow at Jon, who smiles back at him.

"We'll let you know if it works out," Brendon says, stepping into his flip-flops. "Can you sit with him for a minute? Zack went to get sandwiches."

Spencer narrows his eyes, but nods, and then they're gone, headed for the Academy bus. Spencer sits down in the chair and watches Ryan's tentacles shift and twist until Zack shows up with their food.