[center][h3][color=fff79a]Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka[/color][/h3][/center]

	At some point during the flight, young Miss Cakebread 'shut her yap' and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms behind her head. Almost elbowing Kiara in the process, she smiled apologetically, but then closed her eyes and leaned back. Suddenly, a swing song began to play throughout the plane. Sourceless, the upbeat pop music rang pleasantly throughout the narrow space. 

[i][center]Hit that jive Jack
Put it in your pocket till I get back
Going downtown to see a man
And I ain't got time to shake your hand[/center][/i]

	Chloe began to hum along, nodding her head up and down. As the song reached it's second verse she glanced over at Kiara, the smile never leaving her face. It wasn't a fake smile, though it was more of a habit of her face rather than anything she was consciously doing. The muscles of her cheeks just seemed to naturally twitch upwards. "I love music. This one's Nat King Cole.  You know~" She said, very briefly going into a sing song voice. The music in her voice vanished as quickly as it came, though, and the british woman began to speak normally once again.

	Chloe brought her right arm down and pulled at her lips with her right finger, artificially tightening her smile. Then she moved her thumb on the inside of her mouth and flicked it outwards.[i] Pop. [/i]

	[color=fff79a]"I think it's true what me mum used to say. Keep doin' that silly face, little lady, and it'll get stuck that way. I didn't believe her at the time, but maybe it's true."[/color] She said, referring to her seemingly permanent cheeky grin. Curious, she turned her head directly towards Kiara and reset her expression to neutral. Blankly she silently stared at the young woman next to her for a long couple of seconds. The only sound was groovy swing tunes; which added a surreal element to the whole thing.

	[color=fff79a]"Cohme, comrade. Whe fight for de Soviet Union. Dees time, the revolution will go wehll, I promize."[/color] She said, adopting a shitty slavic accent and keeping her face stern. Then she giggled again and the smirk returned. She wondered if that would finally provoke a reaction of the russian man on the other side of the plane. Jonesing slightly, Chloe reached into her breastpocket and pulled out the packet of cigarettes only to immediately place them back where they were. A strange habit that Kiara would notice had been happening with increasing frequency as the trip went on. As the plane began to descend, Chloe straightened up and glanced cautiously out the window.

	[color=fff79a]"Oi oi, eyes up everyone,"[/color] She said as a vocal confirmation of the end of their trip. Grunting with the landing, she didn't cast a glance at the pilot. Following the other two out of the plane, Chloe stumbled into the open air. Burning hay bales had marked the landing zone, and the french fighters were battling the flames. Hopefully, their approach had gone unnoticed.

	[color=fff79a]"Bloody hell, fuckin' finally, eh?" [/color]She complained in good humor, grimacing as she stretched her arms up high. Her back cracked from the strain, and then she leaned all the way down and touched the toes of her boots without bending her legs, groaning from satisfaction.  Standing up straight, with practiced speed she reached into her front pocket and produced a cigarette and a lighter. In a matter of seconds she was puffing the thing from her lips. It hit and pleasure spiked in her system. Relief from the pressure behind her eyes, and a newfound alertness. Smoke 'em if you got 'em. 

	Leaving the cigarette in her mouth she cracked her neck and walked towards the nearest frenchman. [color=fff79a]"Well, we're here. What's first?"[/color] She asked.