Okay, so, this is my first fic, so please DON'T be gentle. I need the flames for advice. All of you people who like Sawyer, please don't bodily harm me, as I am a fan as well. This is just something that has been bugging me forever.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn, the Fantom, or any related characters.

The Lickin'

            Huckleberry Finn walked casually along an alley near the East London Docks. He and his partner, Tom Sawyer, had been trailing a terrorist who called himself the Fantom for a week or so. Sheesh, what a stupid nickname, he thought. Tom will definitely approve. Huck smirked a little at that thought. It was dark and foggy, and Huck's jacket was nearly soaking from it.

            Huck turned the corner and came to a warehouse. Tom was already there, leaning against the building. He caught sight of Huck and put a finger to his lips and pulled his pistols, a slight click as he cocked the hammers. On three, he mouthed. One, two, THREE!

            Tom and Huck burst through the door, and saw that they were surrounded by 20 of the Fantom's men, all with rifles aimed at them. Tom blinked.

            "I threaten to start a world war, and this is the best that America can send? A couple of gun toting children?" The Fantom was wearing a long fur coat over a plate of armor. He wore a silver mask covering most of his face, and the parts that could be seen were heavily scarred. His voice was heavily accented and sounded rough. Huck looked over at Tom. He was bristling with anger, guns still held up, now pointed at the Fantom. The Fantom pulled out his own gun and pointed it directly at Huck's chest. "Put the guns down, Agent Sawyer, or your friend dies." Begrudgingly, Tom bent to his knees and laid his precious guns on the ground. "Kick them over here," said the Fantom. Gently, Tom complied. The Fantom kept his guns pointed at Huck's chest. "I should just kill you both now."

            For a moment, Huck locked eyes with the Fantom. He knew what the Fantom was going to do, and braced himself. He looked over at Tom, and thanked God it wouldn't be him.

            Tom saw the shared look between Huck and the Fantom, and the horror dawned on him.

            "However, only one of you will come out of here in a body bag tonight." He pulled the trigger.

            At the same moment, Tom Sawyer jumped, pushing Huck to the side and taking the bullet himself. He fell heavily to the ground, blood gushing from his wound.

            Both Huck and the Fantom stared at Tom. Then the Fantom regained his senses and yelled to his men "Let's go!" before turning and running.

            Huck stood there for half an instant, but to him it seemed like a lifetime. He stared down at Tom's doubled over form disbelievingly. Tom's moan of pain wakened him from his reverie. Huck crouched beside him and gently rested Tom's head on his knees. "Oh, God, Tom, I'm so sorry—"

            "No," Tom gasped. "Don't tell me you're sorry. I did this to myself. Just do me one favor?"

            "Anything," Huck said in a trembling voice.

            "Get him for me. Show him that nobody licks Tom Sawyer without a price." Tom let his head fall sink into Huck's knees and made a choking noise, and then he was gone.

            Huck for the second time that night just sat and stared for a moment, letting it sink in. Dead? Tom Sawyer? No, he couldn't be, he was the most levelheaded person that Huck had ever known. He wouldn't go down in a stupid gunfight in a nameless warehouse. For five minutes, Huck let himself believe that his friend was alive before a sob that had been working its way up his chest forced its way out. He pulled Tom's head up next to his shoulder and cried into the dead man's hair. His lips moved in a prayer that the Widow Douglas had taught him, but when he looked up, his eyes were full of anger. "I'm gonna show him what the price is, Tom. I'll show him for ya."