The more he thinks about it, the more Kibum is sure that Taemin has gotten away with his sins rather too lightly. He folds his arms and broods at the airplane tray table attached to the back of the seat in front of him. For the amount of emotional trauma he has suffered, merely having Taemin's status proven as a child (at least in the eyes of the French) is nothing like a fair retribution.

"We're nearly there!" Speaking of children, Taemin has had his face practically glued to the airplane window for the last twenty minutes. It's a short flight from Paris to London, the next stop on their tour. They had barely stopped climbing before they were descending again and Kibum's ears keep popping. He shakes his head irritably and massages his neck with his fingertips. He still doesn't understand why they couldn't have just taken the train.

"Look, look, look!" Taemin is almost bouncing in his seat as he jabs his finger at the window. Kibum cranes his neck around with a sigh of resignation. His vertigo doesn't bother him so much in planes, so he is able to look out of the window without having a minor meltdown, although he certainly wouldn't call it an enjoyable experience.

"Congratulations, you've found London," he says sarcastically as he gives a brief glance at the grey metropolis wound through with the river Thames.

"Not that," Taemin shakes his head and gives the impish grin that Kibum knows only too well. "I think I just found our next...um, excursion!"

"What." As sometimes happens when he is alarmed, Kibum's voice comes out completely flat.

Taemin just points out the window again, and Kibum's eyes soon discover the newest object of Taemin's desire. None other than the 135 metre monstrosity masquerading as an "attraction", commonly known as the London Eye.

Yes, Kibum reflects after Jonghyun has been forced to leap out of his seat across the aisle and prevent the maknae's sudden death by strangulation. Taemin has definitely gotten off far too lightly.

Kibum is unusually silent in the taxi that takes the five of them from London Heathrow to their hotel. They are performing at the O2 Arena that night, so, like Paris yesterday, they have the morning to explore the city if they so desire. Judging by the state of s, though - Kibum hides a smirk as he notices that Jonghyun and Jinki have fallen asleep on each other's shoulders - nobody is going to take up that offer. He himself has gotten more than enough of the cold, rainy city when filming the variety show One Fine Day. London hadn't been at all as attractive and fashionable as he'd expected, and the crushing disappointment he'd suffered when the bookshop door from Notting Hill turned out to be a fake still hurts when he thinks about it. No, he will be spending the morning safe in the hotel, attempting to get eight hours sleep in the space of three, and definitely not allowing Taemin to drag him onto that death trap pretending to be a "fun thing to do in London".

Taemin must be tired, too, because he doesn't kick up a fuss about seeing the sights. He flops down onto the double bed in their room and spreads his skinny limbs across the cover with a little wriggle of satisfaction. He plays on his phone for a while, but it isn't long before the device falls to the covers and his eyes drift closed. Kibum watches him narrowly from his position curled up in the corner of the sofa - Taemin has managed to occupy the entire double bed they are supposed to be sharing. No matter how ridiculously cute he manages to look when he's sleeping, it doesn't mean Kibum has forgiven him. No sir.

Jonghyun and Minho are sharing another room off the main suite and Jinki has volunteered to take the pull-out bed in the living room area. When Kibum uncurls himself and pads out there he finds that the leader has passed out on the couch in similar sprawled style to Taemin, though with rather a lot less space, meaning his left arm and leg are hooked over the back of the couch and his right are dangling off it. Kibum sighs at him, then carefully moves his arms to lie safely by his sides. Jinki will wake up with no feeling in his limbs if he sleeps like that. There is no sound from the room Jonghyun and Minho have claimed, so Kibum knows he is safe. A wicked grin steals across his face as he slips silently out of the room and into the hotel corridor. Taemin, you are so going to get it.

One thing Kibum remembers rather vividly about England is that it seems to hold far more than its fair share of creepy-crawlies. He'd been told none of the giant spiders, daddy-long-legs, caterpillars, slugs, and other gross-looking insects are dangerous to humans, but he is pretty sure Taemin doesn't know that. The hotel is an old Victorian-era building and Kibum knows that no matter how nice they've done it up inside, any building this old is sure to have a cold and creepy basement area where they do the laundry and keep the cleaning supplies, and sure enough, his intrepid exploration of the emergency stairwell eventually brings him out into a rather dark and dank corridor of the kind any self-respecting creepy-crawly would love to lurk.

"Are you lost, duck?" An English woman in a cleaner's uniform has spotted him. Once Kibum has gotten over his surprise at being addressed as a waterfowl, he manages to shake his head and find his English.

"No, I'm fine. I'm looking for spiders," he explains.

"Spiders? You've come to the right place," the cleaning lady winks at him, "though don't tell my supervisor I said so. We're not supposed to give lodgings for free, but I say the poor things never did anyone no harm, so I leave them be."

She leads Kibum further down the corridor and into an ancient brick cellar. The only light comes from a small, dirty window high up in the ceiling, which is level with the pavement outside. "This used to be a coal cellar in the old days," the woman explains cheerfully. "Now we just use it to store the rubbish and recycling. This building dates back to the Victorian era, y'know. It was a stately home before it was a hotel. Generations of rich nobs and servants have lived and died here."

Kibum thinks of ghosts and only just manages not to shiver. His plight isn't at all helped when the woman swiftly locates a spider lurking in one of the darkest corners that is surely the size of a small dinner plate. It has long legs and a thick, bulbous body. It is furry, and it is probably bigger than Kibum's face. If he had been alone, he would have already set the new world record for the hundred-metre corridor dash by now. As it is, he wraps his arms around himself with a convulsive shudder.

"A huntsman alright for you?" She grins. "You won't get a better specimen of a good British spider than this fellow."

"It's f-f-fine," Kibum's voice comes out at least an octave higher than it should. He gives a quiet shriek as she blithely grabs the terrifying arachnid in her broad bare hand and tosses it into a square 2-litre icecream container she'd picked up from the piles of reycling. Kibum is horrified to see that the spider's thick, hairy legs barely fit even into this large, square container. She slaps the lid on it and holds the container out.

"I-is it safe?" Kibum can't help the quiver in his voice as he eyes the container warily. Never has a container of double chocolate raspberry ripple looked quite so threatening.

"Safe as houses. Mister Huntsman isn't getting out of here unless you let him," the cleaning lady assures him. Kibum takes the container she offers with a shudder and hold