Shooting, American Style
A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen fanfic
"Did you teach your son to shoot like this?"
It was a stupid question, Tom reflected as he sighted along the Winchester's barrel. The Nautilus has resurfaced and he was back on the observation deck, shooting at the buoys, trying to take to heart what Quartermian had said about taking his time. Of course he'd taught his son to shoot the same way, to sight and compensate and take his time, and Tom reckoned he'd been trying to get that back, to get his son back, if only for a moment. Quartermain had finally been able to let his demons rest, and then he'd had to go and ruin it by asking the kind of stupid question any kid would've known the answer to.
Quartermain had barely said ten words to him since and, for the life of him, Tom hadn't been able to figure out how to bring the subject up to try to put things right again. He figured the least he could do was take the lesson Allan had tried to teach him to heart, to learn how to get the job done with one well-aimed shot.
He gave the command to fire, watching through the sights as the red buoy sailed across the air. It landed with a small splash. Tom made the necessary compensations, drew a slow breath, and pulled the trigger.
The red floating ball disappeared as the bullet struck home and Tom couldn't help but smile a little. It was nowhere near as far out as the ones Quartermain had hit, but--
"You're improving."
Tom gasped and spun around. He hadn't heard anyone come on deck, but Quartermain's gruff accent was recognizable even before he saw his face.
"Yeah, well," Tom still didn't know what to say. "You never can have enough practice in, right?"
"True, boy." A slight smile upturned one corner of Quartermain's mouth. "It's a shame, after all, to have such a spectacular weapon and not know how to use it properly."
"I know how to shoot," Tom reminded with a grin of his own. "I'm just tryin' to learn how to shoot better."
Quartermain gave a satisfied nod and came to stand next to him at the railing. He stared out into the endless ocean that surrounded them. "Let me see what you're capable of, Sawyer."
Not much more than when we tried this the last time, Tom thought in response, fearing Quartermain would be disappointed with his progress. Still, he turned back to the ocean, hearing Nemo's sailor readying the next target in the machine. He could feel Allan's eyes upon him, watching him prepare to give the command to fire. Tom had done a lot of things in his twenty-odd years, but he couldn't shake the feeling that a lot more was riding on this moment than any before.
"Salau!"
The buoy sailed over his head and into the air. Again, Tom followed its downward arch through his sites. This time, though, he did not give the target a chance to come to rest in the water. He pulled the trigger once, meaning to pick it off mid-flight, but succeeded only in stripping the small flag from its top.
Tom cursed himself mentally and quickly resighted, firing a second time. The buoy, only yards from slashing into the ocean, disintegrated as the shot rang true.
Grinning, Tom shouldered the rifle and turned to Quartermain. The older man regarded him with a skeptically hiked eyebrow. He was waiting, Tom realized, for some kind of explination.
"Well," Tom found himself saying, "the way I see it, we're not gonna be shootin' at many targets that are gonna stand still and let us hit 'em. All and all, pickin' 'em off in the water like that seems a tad unfair."
Quartermain said nothing. He was too busy laughing.
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Had to write this because I kept waiting on one of them to blow the target away like in skeet shooting.
Also, I'm starting a role-playing game based on the movie, slightly AU, takes place before anyone dies. The game hasn't started yet and we need players to fill major characters, including Tom and Allan, among others. If anyone wants to join, email me at aceinit@yahoo.com and I'll send you an official invite to the site so you can get logged in.