a/n: This is a semi-sequel to my last story ("Couldn't Hurt") because it probably reads just fine without having read my last one…but it does take place a few weeks afterwards. In addition to a premise, this one has a plot, and they do end up getting off the ship this time.

Unlike my last story, this one is not finished when I started posting it. I can't promise bi-weekly updates, or even that it ever will finish. I apologize in advance for late updates (and the crazy storyline), and thank in advance everyone who reads this through.

Chapter 1—A strange visitor

Mina strolled the corridors slowly because it was easier to avoid people if she walked quietly enough to listen. Not that she strolled the corridors often; she went out only occasionally to eat.

She knew that she would have to come to terms with her new reality at some point, but she seemed to have so little time to do so. Most of her time was spent denying it—trying to forget the helplessness and pain Hyde had inflicted upon her, her own anger and humiliation at the time tempered only by the knowledge that two of the League could have been on the verge of death.

Sawyer had come to her room several times since, Jekyll had not once passed her in the hallway without attempting to initiate conversation, and even Nemo had attempted, on one occasion, to speak with her. She rebuked their attempts even as she appreciated their concern, and started to resent Skinner and Quatermain for not trying so that she could rebuke them as well.

Her time was divided between avoiding any of the men she ran across (she'd felt a strange affinity on the scant few of the crew who were women, but none of them spoke English), and realizing how ridiculous it was to avoid them. All the same, her mind protested sharply at the prospect of coming out of the shell she had created for herself.

It had taken her a very long time to come up with the obvious conclusion: get off the Nautilus. She was really under no obligation to be there in the first place, and there was no pressing world danger that demanded her presence. On the mainland, she could maybe stop feeling like she was constantly being hunted.

Was it right or fair? Was it a good decision? Mina considered her idea and waited. She kept careful track of the location of the ship and penned a note to leave upon her departure. For practice of course, she wasn't really going to leave the ship. But she kept going back and forth—would she go back to a life of exile? Could she? Remembering how most of the League was honestly trying to help her get through this…

There was to be no consultation with the rest of them; she could hardly stand to be in the same room with any of them. She even found herself regretting Sawyer's heroic rescue of Quatermain; as the hunter's presence seemed ubiquitous; he wandered nearly as much as Sawyer had the previous weeks. And really, she disliked talking to anybody, let alone the misogynist cretin.

He was the one she had to work hardest to avoid when she left her room. The other men's lives had slipped into predictable patterns, as men are prone to doing when nothing of importance happens. Skinner, whose wounds had mostly (completely?) healed, spent most of his time on the top deck or in his room. Nemo had taken the wheel of his ship again, and hadn't been seen much since. Sawyer had been reading and sleeping mostly, as he had been exhausted after he found himself alone in his head again, only drawing off of his own energy. And Jekyll? He seemed to have confined himself to his room. Much as Mina had.

Caught up in her own thoughts, she forgot to listen, and found herself crossing paths with Jekyll in the hallway: Mina on her way to her own room, Jekyll, to Nemo's.

"Mrs. Harker, I…ah—"

She nodded a semi-greeting and plowed on ahead. It was stupid of her to not to have anticipated the two's paths crossing; every night at 7:00 Jekyll had gone to Nemo's room, the two of them meditating. Everyone knew about it; no one talked about it.

She was flustered, and didn't turn off into her own room. She didn't realize she had missed it until she was past it. She continued walking until Jekyll turned into the drawing room. She doubled back and slipped into her own room. She had locked the door behind her by the time she realized that something was not quite right. Something was definitely abnormal.

A lingering smell of blood and sweat pervaded the room. Mina listened closely as she tried to figure out what was wrong. There was no stirring of motion, no faint breath, but there was a faint scent. It seemed to blend in with the room, but somehow, it was wrong. It was fresh.

She processed all of this before she had turned around from the door, and had already concluded that someone had been in her room, and must have left as recently as when she walked past the door, perhaps when both her and Jekyll's backs were turned. Or…the thought frightened her…could Jekyll have been in her room?

As she turned, she saw the figure standing in the middle of the room.

Well then. Not Jekyll, no one else—just this stranger. Mina's first instinct was to attack—especially since she hadn't slaked her thirst in quite a while now. The stranger seemed blissfully unaware that her life was on the line, and stood with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Who are you?" Mina asked.

There was a moment of silence, as the woman appeared to consider how to answer the question. Mina quickly brushed her eyes over her potential adversity. The clothing was strange enough—what little there was clung tightly to her skin—but the array of gadgets she had on her suggested a possibility of dangerous and unforeseen weapons. Her hair was cut very short, shorter than several of the men in the League's haircut—but there was no mistaking her for a male, as each curve of her body was clearly, indecently outlined.

"I'm from the future, Mina" the woman said, "And you—and the rest of the League—are about to be in some major trouble."