"Gentlemen please, you're behaving like humans." tempered Tribune in his most soothing, most reassuring voice. "All the secrets of the powder shall be revealed, in time. You forget that it is only I who possesses such, pleasing attributes." His words came faster than normal, and yet uttered with the same suave tones. That is of course because he was in a situation a tad more unique than usual; some, thirty angry members of the aristocracy and their entourages of guards and military men surrounded him in the central square of the Empire.

You will tell or you will die.' simply stated the leading member of the party.

'All in due time, science has its own rewards' hissed the troubled lizard.

The crown surged in uproar and readied hands wielded sturdy rocks in determination of punishment. Then just as suddenly, the crowd parted to reveal a large leather-clad brute from within the ranks of the hired personnel who held up a meaty hand, complete with a matching club, and hastily recanted the list of fouled deeds perpetrated by Tribune himself. He repeatedly looked over at Tribune, with a half-smile of vengeance as he condemned his comrade and leader. "How can we rely on him? He traded secrets with our enemies and stole the bread off our plates. We want an execution." With this said the beast retreated into the crown, fully pleased with the retribution he had attained.

The leader paused for a moment and then related his decision to his posse.

"You are right, my legion. He is not to be trusted. Nevertheless, we must learn the secret of the powder, so we will go right to the source, from of the inventors themselves. We will be back in a fortnight, to celebrate our victory." He then turned aside to his council and in hushed tones related, "We need an edge in battle, no Lizard or Man can withstand torture."

In the utmost of secrecy Tribune, a dedicated soldier for the Empire was up against the most brutal of tactics, yet of course, none was needed. Tribune, loyal to him above all else, ousted the explorers within the first moments of argument. He was threatened with the Rack, a brutal device intended to stretch the body to its limits and ultimately beyond. The original design was intensified to meet the high empirical standards by adding a deep well of water, the combination of stretching and drowning was found especially convincing.

It was a day like most others, high above the ground floor, and yet there was many a chore to be done. Veronica had insisted that the tree house undergo a strict cleaning regiment, due to weeks of rain and the pent up emotions that accompanied it. However, two of the tree dwellers had escaped the furry of cleaning, under the much-heeded guise of a hunting escapade. Roxton and Marguerite, who had barely evaded dust duty, were rounding the small garden when a rather unseemly guest intruded upon them. It was namely George Challenger; the overcharged scientist looked eagerly about the two and quickly spurted out his plea.

"I have in this vial here the last of our hemlock, Roxton, see if you can bring back some. I should be able to double the photo process of development from a synthesized version of the chemicals in use. But only if I get a fresh batch." His red hair and slightly grey-red beard shook with the delight in the future success he should attain at such a feat.

The hunter looked at the twig, then squinted his eyes to ensure a better look, then sighed and related his findings. "You'd better come along, old boy. You'd know it far better than I." He then looked to Marguerite in a silent apology, and readied for their trek.

A short time later, with the tasks completed and a long walk home ahead of them, the wayward explorers chose a campsite for the night. Roxton had been eerily quiet and even with a sizable meal, and a safe journey seemed less than jovial. After Challenger had bunked down, and the fire stoked, Marguerite went to appease her hunter on watch.

Penny for your thoughts?

Hardly worth that

Something's the matter' it wasn't a question, just a statement said aloud for all to hear

I had this feeling before William. It's come again.

Both pairs of eyes shined bright in the moonlight, a mix of unshed tears and emotions.

Marguerite took a silent deep breath, looked away from her hunter, and readied herself for what came next.

"Before they came for Adrienne, I felt it. Before," Marguerite's voice lowered and she looked at Roxton intently. 'Osric' she immediately looked at the ground, then slowly over to the eyes set before her. 'It's freewill fighting destiny, John. It's change.'

With her peace said, and her quota for information fulfilled, she sighed relief and met the stare with wide knowing eyes.

Somewhere in the mix of information, his hand had found hers. Somehow, they managed to become thus entwined however superficially.

A 'thank you' uttered and a kiss to the forehead bestowed, as the two remained content in this new element of bond.

At the campsite, their blankets suitably apart, and yet apparently close, the hunter assumed his watch. When on camping trips Roxton never allowed others to risk guard duty in the most dangerous of times, and this trip would be no exception. However, his mind never flickered from the present situation of Marguerite. Unbeknownst to Challenger, Marguerite and Roxton shared their blankets during solo excursions; this night would be no exception. Subconsciously, Marguerite would lean back into Roxton, and he in turn would lead forward, his arm forming a suitable pillow, his chest a bed warmer. In the morning, Roxton's blanket, instead of looping around him would be under him and over Marguerite. His warmth was to come solely from the safety of his charge.

Eventually they stopped trying to stop it and gave in to the overwhelming feeling of comfort, of home. Roxton had warmed many beds, but this woman, whom he couldn't call his woman, was the exception. His soul wandered towards her, even when he did not.

He regained control of his thoughts, pushed his hat back on his head, and readied for the upcoming hours.

The next morning, long before Challenger succeeded in rising, Marguerite awoke rather encumbered by Roxton.

'Really John, this is ridiculous.' She quietly uttered as a wide grin flashed across his face. Roxton's arm, the one that functioned as a pillow, had snaked around her chest and effectively secured her to him. His other arm lay on her hip, a pistol in its hand, and dared any visitors.

Terribly sorry, Marguerite. Don't know what came over me.' Roxton replied while making no movements to alleviate the situation.

Kindly remove your hand, Lord Roxton.' Roxton lingered there, for an impolite moment before reluctantly shifting his hand to her stomach and began fingering a button.

Marguerite took in a sharp breath before placing her hand atop his, and shifting her position so they were facing each other. She pressed herself lightly against him, and stared into his eyes.

We haven't been alone in a while' it wasn't a question, just a statement said aloud for all to hear.

Hmmm' was all Marguerite could utter as Roxton put an arm about her head and pressed his lips to her forehead. Then his hand slid down to her backside, his lips found hers. They attacked each other, as they always did, with urgent hungry kisses and yet so full of tenderness. Their lips matching perfectly, their souls combined. When together as such, they found that the world had stopped, their problems ceased; they lived solely for themselves. Their hands slowed and they knew they had to stop, while they still could. Roxton shifted his blanket away, and ultimately himself. Both noticed a definite chill when without the others presence. It was still hours before the scientist would wake; however, neither the hunter nor the heiress would deem sleep worthy.