"Rubicon 2 – Africa"

By Ten Mara

After Quatermain's funeral, the League plan on doing some traveling in Africa for a few weeks with one of the hunter's old friends. But Tom feels compelled to accompany the local doctor on his rounds of outlying settlements instead, only to find himself in the middle of an outbreak of a deadly illness. Can he believe in himself and his leadership abilities enough to save everyone?

This is the second in a trilogy about Tom Sawyer. You don't necessarily have to have read the first to follow this, but it is on Fanfiction Net if you'd like to check it out. "Rubicon 1 - Aftermath" mainly dealt with what happened after the attack on M's fortress and Tom's angst over Quatermain's death.

Rating: T

CATEGORY: Story, Drama/Angst, Supernatural aspects, hints of potential Tom/Mina

DISCLAIMER: The literary characters referred to are copyright their respective authors, and "LXG: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" is copyright 20th Century Fox, based on the comic books by Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill. The characters and movie universe are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be gained. Characters not recognized are mine.

THANKS TO: Sawyer Fan always, Suzi, Ngaire, Gerry, Mac, Suzanne and Brett.

Author's Note: I realized after I'd posted out all of "Rubicon 1: Aftermath" that I'd made an error – Jim was not the slave of the Widow Douglas, he was the slave of her sister, Miss Watson. I'd read "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" especially to write the story, but somewhere along the way when writing I got those women mixed up, much to my embarrassment! So Miss Watson is the one who died and freed Jim in her will.

xXx

The Nautilus was now several days into its journey from England to Africa, to allow the League to bury Allan Quatermain beside his son.

Tom Sawyer lay in his bed, allowing himself the pleasure of dozing for a bit before facing the day, or rather the obstacle course. The course was the first part of his exercise and training regime each day while on the submarine.

That was a good night's sleep.

The thought made the American then do a mental tally of his nightmares – the ones he could remember anyway – and he was relieved that the volume of them was definitely easing. In fact, last night he'd had quite an amusing dream for once. It involved him being in the room of the Nautilus that Nemo called the saloon, which had panels that retracted in the walls to reveal the wonders of the waters they were in. Safe behind the thick but very clear glass, Tom had been watching the various aquatic life and coral formations with interest, when suddenly an even more fascinating sight appeared behind him.

"Look at me!" Skinner crowed.

And there he was. With bright teal-blue skin. "Oh my God, did you tip a bucket of paint over your head instead of greasepaint?" Sawyer asked in alarm. "And why?" Then he realized that he could actually see Skinner's eyes, even his pupils.

"I'm cured!"

"But you're bright blue!" Tom spluttered out.

"I always have been, kid – that's one of the reasons why I wanted to become invisible in the first place, so I'd stop standing out. Not good for a thief, that trait. And I was sick of all the jokes. But then I found out too late that invisibility isn't without its own problems." Then the no-longer invisible man looked past the American. "Hey, I've got an audience!"

Tom turned back to the view of the ocean to find that there was now a crowd of sea life pressed against the glass, for all the world like tourists at a zoo checking out the latest exhibit. Fish were staring mesmerised at Skinner's skin. The spy saw an octopus, sharks, a whale, perhaps a mermaid even, staring in awe, and then suddenly the Loch Ness Monster was there, taking up all the room, somehow having gotten out of its Loch to come have a speedy look-see. It must have been that particular monster, for it commented: "Now there's something you don't see every day!" in a very Scottish accent.

And that was all the American could remember of that dream, but it had been a refreshing, if not bizarre, change.

At breakfast Skinner was there, much to Tom's delight, though he refrained from mentioning the dream to him. The invisible man was making an incredibly quick recovery from his burns, but Jekyll still wanted him to stay in the infirmary most of the time, with gradually longer and longer intervals of 'freedom' being allowed.

Rodney had his hat on to give the others a point of focus, and the doctor had instructed him to avoid greasepaint and heavy clothing until his skin was fully healed.

"These burns are practically gone. Soon I can sneak out and you won't even know I'm going," Skinner boasted.

"Hyde would smell you," came the reply as Henry picked up his teacup.

"Ahh, but would he share the information?"

Jekyll gave him a look. "That depends if he wanted to be mean to you or not. Or it could be seen as being nice to you, seeing as you are supposed to rest, instead of getting into a heap of trouble on the ship. I know it is difficult, but the more you rest now, the more you'll be able to do when we get to Africa. Especially since we've got to travel inland to Nairobi."

Everyone at the table could practically hear Skinner roll his eyes.

"Oh, all right. I'll be good. Of course, my version of good could be seen as other people's version of 'bad' . . . ."

At that Tom could not help commenting, "When he was good he was very, very good and when he was bad he was nowhere to be seen or found!"

"Absolutely!"

xXx

It was time for Tom's martial arts practice. Usually it was later, but his regular teacher, Tang, was busy, and this earlier slot was more suitable for Nemo today. The Captain had plans to bring some of the other crew in on lessons in the near future, to give the spy practice at fighting more than one opponent.

Tom gave the lesson his usual intense focus and energy, and at the end was pleased with how he had gone.

Afterwards the two of them sat resting.

"Captain Nemo, there's something I've been meaning to ask."

"Go ahead, Thomas."

The American had been trying to work out how to approach this particular topic. Here goes. "It's about the cooking – the meals. I'm really enjoying the food. There's an amazing spread of dishes each time, and I've gotten to taste so many different things from many nationalities thanks to the Chef." That was the only name they had ever gotten when introduced to Nemo's head cook. Nemo said it was because he had no equal. He was the Chef.

And considering how versatile the man could be with fish or even seaweed when need be, the title was fully deserved. The Chef was a tall and powerfully built man who ruled his kitchen with as much pride and authority as Nemo did over the rest of the ship.

The Captain commented, "I have noticed that you do enjoy the meals and are not afraid to try new dishes. The Chef likes people who are adventurous in their eating and possess a fine appetite. But you said you had something to ask."

Tom hesitated, then plunged on. "As much as I love those foods, I'm also kind of missing Southern cooking. So, um, I was wondering if it were possible if I could be allowed to do some cooking myself, wouldn't need much room, just to whip up some of those things I'm craving. I'd be happy to share them. But I wasn't sure if that would upset the Chef or not, or if I'd get in his way . . . . I think I'd rather be on the bad side of ten of my Aunt Pollys than him!"

Nemo chuckled. "I think he would be honoured that you had the care to ask first. And I'm sure he would like to watch you prepare those dishes or find out more from you, so that he can try doing them himself. I will speak to him today and let you know." The Captain was glad to be given a way to help make Tom feel more at home, especially after the losses he had suffered lately.

"Thank you."

"Tell me about some of the dishes that you miss the most," the Indian said with clear curiosity.

So Sawyer filled him in on the wonders of Southern cooking, his descriptions making them both half-starved within minutes. "The way that they are cooked is often what makes all the difference. Like with the corn bread, the hot biscuits and wheat bread and fried chicken. Perhaps no bread in the world is quite so good as Southern corn bread."

"Thomas, I am surprised you have lasted this long away from your hometown cooking! I will definitely see the Chef today. I think he will rise to the challenge magnificently."

Tom smiled. If Allan Quatermain felt like a father to him, then Nemo was like an uncle. After they left the gymnasium, the Captain showed the American around some of the amazing features of the Nautilus that he either hadn't gotten to see yet or hadn't gotten to ask questions about.

The submarine was traveling along on top of the sea at the moment, and a number of Nemo's men were out on the large exposed deck, some going through drills, others relaxing. A series of tall poles were lining the area, fully retractable and able to be varied in height if required. They were covered in strong netting to form a sort of fence, so the men were protected from falling overboard by mishap or due to any freak waves.

Tom had been glad when he first saw the deck utilized like this, having wondered how Nemo's crew got proper air and exercise, seeing as the conning tower seemed to be the domain of the Captain and the League, and too small for many people to use at once. And the range of gymnasiums and recreation rooms while extensive, were not the same as some fresh air and sun.

Nemo wanted to take some measurements in regard to some new designs of his, and Tom lent a hand. The Captain explained what this latest conceptualization was about. "At the moment I am working on the best design for an escape pod, then I can have them installed on all levels, and I am also considering creating more sections that could potentially detach from this vessel when required and have their own power, like the Nautilod. Then as many lives as possible could be saved, if ever we have a situation like those bombs going off again. One exploration pod is hardly adequate."

"This submarine was clearly very carefully designed from the start, but you didn't allow for 'lifeboats' at that stage?" the American asked.

"It is not so surprising when you consider my attitude at the time. It was partly that a Captain goes down with his ship, but mainly because back then I had renounced not only society and civilisation but land itself, and so had my crew. The sea was my only home. I was determined not to stand on a continent ever again, unless no other human had stepped there first, so if ever something happened to the Nautilus, then that was the end of me as well."

"I'm glad you changed your mind."

xXx

Then Tom went to visit Skinner, who was back in the infirmary, but not confined to bed so much now. He had his own private area anyway. Sawyer found the ex-thief at a desk that Henry had arranged to have moved in for him. The invisible man was working on a jigsaw puzzle of a vase of flowers, his hat perched on a jaunty angle.

"Hey, Skinner."

"Hey, kid. Pull up a seat."

"Need some help there?"

"Nope. Feels more satisfying when I do it myself."

"Where's Jekyll?"

"Off somewhere talking with Mina, as far as I know."

Lately Mina seemed to have come out of her isolation in regard to what happened in the fortress and her aloofness around the remaining League members. Tom wondered what she and Jekyll were talking about. They had been in each other's company a lot these last few days. It was to be expected. They're so well suited – around the same age, similar scientific backgrounds, have dark sides that they wrestle with . . . . If anything happened between them, he would not be surprised and was determined not to let his feelings show. Perhaps that's the best way to cure my feelings for her. I just hope I can hide any jealousy until then.

And lately he had felt it best to keep away from Mina as much as possible anyway.

Fortunately oblivious to Tom's thoughts, Skinner picked up one of the loose jigsaw pieces. "Ooo, here's the last bit of that geranium!"

Then the piece hovered in the air and Skinner groaned and said, "Oh God!"

"What's wrong?" Sawyer asked him worriedly at the same time as Henry did, the doctor having entered just in time to hear the ex-thief's exclamation.

"It just hit me that I was getting excited about finishing this vase of flowers. Not a good sign!" Rodney bemoaned, tossing the piece back onto the table. "What have I come to?"

Henry gave him a look. "Tell me what else you'd like to do and I'll do my best to accommodate it." He'd certainly tried, judging by the checkers set and books and various other things scattered around. "But you're able to get out more, we just have to pace it carefully. You and Tom could go for a short walk now if you liked."

"Good!" Rodney said with a sigh of relief.

"I trust Tom to keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble."

Aunt Polly would never have believed that, even a few years ago! Sawyer thought.

"Where do you want to go?" Henry continued.

"Anywhere but here. No offence, Doc. You're welcome to join us, if you can," Skinner said.

Henry was pleased by the offer, sensing that it was genuine, not an 'I'm inviting you along because I feel I should; I don't really want to' invitation. "All right." Nemo's own medical crew was on hand to look after the few other patients who were currently in another section of the infirmary.

So the three set off on their walk. Skinner started musing that he needed a project to keep him busy, and so the doctor and the spy started giving him suggestions, some more serious than others.

"Knitting," Henry said with a chuckle.

"Underwear drawer reconnaissance would be more in my line."

"Oh yeah," Tom replied. "Not even your fast healing abilities or invisibility would save you if Mina caught you at it!"

Then Skinner snapped his fingers. "Got it! Tom, lad, I've decided I'm going to teach you how to play cricket. Henry, you can lend a hand too."

Tom raised an eyebrow and to Skinner he looked so very Quatermain-ish at that moment. "Any particular reason why you want to teach me that game?"

"Cultural exchange. And the challenge. I have a feeling it should be a very interesting process."

"Well, I really don't know anything much about it, so I'm sure you're right. And if it gives you a project to keep you amused and happy, why not?" I am gonna regret this!

xXx

At lunch Nemo informed the League that he had exchanged a few telegrams with Doctor Hanrahan in Nairobi, who was the executor of Allan's will. Hanrahan was sorting out the arrangements for the hunter's funeral, and Nemo would let him know when the League arrived at Kenya's shores.

Then the Captain told Tom that he was to report to the gallery after his meal – the Chef wanted as much information on Southern cooking as possible. The head cook proved to be extremely interested in Sawyer's descriptions and was looking forward to the challenge of making a new range of food. The American soon had the Chef busily scribbling down notes and going through his supplies to decide what to try first.

After that hopefully successful mission, Tom strolled down the corridor, on the way to the main library on the Nautilus, wondering how things were going in the gymnasium below. Mina was doing weaponry practice there with some of Nemo's men. As a training measure, the Captain had wanted them to experience fighting a supernatural creature.

The American was very tempted to go watch proceedings, or even join in, but he still felt it best to stay away.

His thoughts, however, did have a tendency to stray in her direction . . . .

He remembered how one day in his early teens, he and Huck had been digging, searching for buried treasure on Tom's instigation, and Huck had asked him what he would do with his share of the wealth.

Tom had replied, "I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure-'nough sword, and a red necktie, and a bull-pup, and get married."

"Married!"

"That's it."

"Tom, you – why, you ain't in your right mind."

"Wait – you'll see."

No. No, he won't.

"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do, Tom. Look at Pap and my mother. Fight! Why they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty well."

"That ain't anything," Tom replied confidently. "The girl I'm going to marry won't fight."

At the memory of that little comment, the grown up Tom forgot his melancholy and almost burst out laughing, thinking of what Mina was up to this very moment in the gym. At the time he had meant Becky Thatcher, but things change.

They certainly do. And become more complicated.

"Tom, I reckon they're all alike," Huck pressed, trying to make him see reason. "They'll all comb a body. Now you better think about this a while. I tell you you better. What's the name of the gal?"

"It ain't a gal at all – it's a girl."

"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl – both's right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?"

"I'll tell you sometime – not now."

"All right, that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer than ever."

"No you won't, you'll come and live with me."

At that the adult Tom winced in pain and nearly bit his lip to bleeding point.

He tried to think back to some happier memories instead. He and Huck had actually ended up finding buried treasure and getting rich from it. Then there was the reward money he had split with his best friend after solving a murder and diamond robbery, and the box of jewels they had discovered with the victims of a sandstorm in the Sahara. Thanks to Judge Thatcher's pertinent investing of these gains, Tom remained a comfortably well off young man.

The American turned a corner, close to his goal of the library. Recently Nemo had mentioned a battle between the Spartans and the Persians that sounded very interesting, and Tom wanted to look up more details. He also thought it might behoove him to see if he could find out anything about cricket too, to be prepared for whatever Skinner was going to spring on him. When he reached the library, which was a series of connected rooms and alcoves brimming with books and scrolls, there was no one else around. Somewhat glad of that fact, the American set about browsing the shelves.

While going through a promising-looking history book, he stumbled across an interesting tale regarding Julius Caesar.

The Rubicon – Rubico – was a small northern Italian river in Roman times. It was the boundary between a Roman province and the Roman heartland. Their law banned generals from crossing the river with a standing army, therefore protecting the republic from internal military threats. Julius Caesar had become very powerful and popular as the Governor of Gaul, and the Senate felt he was a threat to their power. They ordered him to resign and disband his army. Pompey held the power in Rome and was told to enforce the order. In 49 BC Caesar made the decision to cross the river with his men and confront Pompey, "making armed conflict inevitable".

The incident spawned the phrase "crossing the Rubicon", "to refer to any person committing themselves irrevocably to a risky course of action".

Tom sighed.

An irreversible decision. I've made a few of those.

xXx

Mina could sense there was someone else in the library the moment she stepped into the room. The person was not in immediate sight, so she concentrated her senses of smell and hearing. It was Tom, over in the deeper recesses, and as she got closer, she could hear by the rhythmic beating of his heart and by his breathing that he was asleep.

When she saw him on a sofa, lying against one of the armrests, she was glad of her natural stealth. Due to his spy training, if she were making a normal human amount of noise, he would have been awake well before now - she had seen him do it before, even when the person tried to be as quiet as possible. Despite her ability, she hesitated about going any closer to him. Vampire stealth or not, she was no longer in her fighting outfit and it was hard to keep these skirts from rustling.

But on the other hand, she wanted to keep an eye on him.

Some motherly compunction, Mina? Hardly.

She was glad he was getting some sleep, even if it wasn't the most comfortable of beds. At least he wasn't wearing his holsters, so there were no pistols digging into his sides. Though there were a number of books on the sofa with him that could be doing the same. From the titles, most of them were to do with history.

Mina's attention turned from the books back to Tom, and for several minutes she stood very still, just observing and studying him. She tried not to study the ambivalence in her feelings towards him.

Her feelings towards Henry Jekyll were more defined, in that during the time they had spent together so far, and in these recent days going over scientific issues, she felt strong friendship towards him, but nothing more.

But as for the young man before her now . . . .

In a lot of ways Tom reminded her of Quincey Jones, who had helped to defeat Dracula, but he also reminded her in ways of her late husband, Jonathan. A fine mix of the two, almost.

Van Helsing had called Jonathan "true grit" and that he "improves under strain that would kill a weaker nature".

Jonathan had been full of energy – until Dracula – and full of talent, with a very faithful disposition. Very brave too, with a sweet, noble and strong nature.

He had been in the employ of Mr Hawkins and had just become a solicitor when Mr Hawkins died, leaving him and Mina everything. She remembered one of her observations in her diary at the time about her new husband.

. . . amount of responsibility it puts upon him makes him nervous. He begins to doubt himself. I try to cheer him up and my belief in him helps him to have a belief in himself.

She hoped to do the same for Tom too.

She liked him a lot, she knew. It would be very easy to . . . .

But would it be fair to him?

So much for keeping my thoughts away from this matter.

She had a past – and not just Dorian, but what Dracula had turned her into. She may not care what others thought about her, but she did care what they thought about Tom.

Though truth be told, she knew those things would not bother him. Mina sighed. Am I using that as an excuse?

After Mongolia, he had put his feelings aside and been there for her as a friend, trying to help her despite his own grief. His actions had meant so much to her, and she was determined to return the favour. Mina had made a promising start just before the Nautilus left to go to Africa, getting him to share some of his pain, and he had seemed to be regaining his natural equilibrium, but in these last days Tom seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her. Politely, of course.

It was like the closer they were getting to bury Allan Quatermain, the more Tom was struggling anew with his role in the hunter's death. Or that the funeral would bring home the finality of his loss.

She looked down at the spy again, and saw that his peaceful face had changed. His eyelids were moving, but not opening. He was dreaming.

Soon his head began to move against the armrest. His expression became pained.

Before Mina could do anything, Tom said, "Quatermain?" Then his eyes opened and he startled slightly, seeing her there.

Mina stepped forward. "It's all right, Tom. You were dreaming."

Groggy, he started to sit up, rubbing a hand over his face. "I wish it had been just a dream . . . ." he mumbled into his palm.

He must have been reliving something from the fortress, Mina thought.

She rescued a book that was just about to slide from his lap. Then she moved some of the others, putting them on a nearby table, making room for herself next to Tom. He went to stand for her, but she gestured for him to stay where he was, then sat down herself.

Wincing, he straightened and looked at the ornate clock on the wall, doing his best to keep his feelings to himself about the dream. "Darn. I was supposed to be at the shooting gallery."

"Did you have an appointment with one of Nemo's men there? Or a time booked to use it?"

"No. It was just on my schedule." He caught her look. "What?"

"You've certainly been training a lot and keeping a very full timetable. We do not have the kidnapped scientists on board anymore or a mission. You are a great shot already. Don't you think you should take some more leisure time for yourself while it's quiet?"

"There isn't much else to do on a sub, even one like this." That was a stretch of the truth, but he hoped she wouldn't call him on it. Even now he still hadn't gotten to explore the place as much as he wanted, with his training taking up a lot of his time. "Reading is great, but I'm an outdoor kind of guy too."

I don't have your 'gifts', he thought, but did not dare say. I have to keep constantly practicing just to be 'above ordinary'. That's the closest I can get to 'extraordinary'. I want to do all that I can to ensure I don't get taken by surprise again and that I contribute all I possibly can to the League, to our missions. I can't afford to miss a shot or miss anything.

Though he was astute enough to know that while in a way he would like to have some special ability to bring to the table, Mina and Jekyll would be quite happy to be rid of their 'special' sides.

Tom said, "When we stop off in Egypt again I'd like to do some sightseeing. That's when I'll take some leisure time. Anyway, I'd better put these back and get going. Might borrow this one to read . . . ." He considered one of the titles as he went to get up. He'd become so caught up in the history books before falling asleep that he had not gotten around to looking for anything to do with cricket. Now he did not want to linger to try to find anything else.

Mina decided to get to the point. "Tom, I've had a feeling lately that you've been avoiding me. Am I mistaken?"

Uh oh. Reluctantly he remained seated. "I'm not avoiding you. Hey, we have each meal together every day!"

"I don't mean as in at the dinner table or wherever when everyone else is around. I mean you seem to be avoiding spending time with me alone."

He tried to make a joke of it. "It isn't proper. People will talk." And besides, you've been with Jekyll so much – he started to think at Mina, then reminded himself that he was being unfair. Mina had tried to spend time with Tom too, but the American had made excuses, leading her to tell him that if he did want to talk, then to seek her out wherever she was. However, he had not taken up the opportunity.

Mina ignored his awkward attempt at humour. "Are you – " She knew that 'afraid' wasn't' the right word to use, but was stuck for the right term. " - thinking that if we were alone I would make you talk about Allan again, about your feelings?"

He shrugged and busied his hands with piling up the books he had been looking through, keeping his gaze on them. "I appreciated what you did."

That's a way of answering the question without really answering it. "It was a hard thing to do. It hurt me to keep pushing and pushing, knowing I was upsetting you more, until you finally let go. But you needed it, Tom." In fact, I think you need more of it.

"It helped," he admitted, but his reluctance and reserve was still clear.

"But the problem with it was . . . ?'

He sighed and finally looked at her. "It wasn't so much the talking. It was the breaking down."

He looked somewhat ashamed and disgusted with himself.

"Why see it as a breakdown? Why not as a breakthrough?" Mina asked.

For a moment he looked surprised, then considered her words, but an uncomfortable expression soon took over. He reiterated, "I'm grateful for what you did, but . . . ."

There was a flash of something on his face. Resentment, she realized. But in what way?

Mina kept trying. "Please don't keep anything from me, even if you think it might offend or hurt me. You would be the last person in the world to deliberately hurt me."

I've shown talent at hurting people with Skinner and Allan. Stop it, Sawyer! They didn't blame you, you know they didn't.

"I – it's nothing. You don't have to worry." Tom got up and started putting the books back.

"Society is very much of the opinion that only a baby should cry," Mina said, also standing. "But if it felt good, if it helped you, then there is no need to be embarrassed about it. I don't perceive you as weak, or becoming weaker for it."

"Then why don't you do it yourself?" he snapped out before he could stop himself, once more pushed by her into territory he wanted to avoid. "I've tried to be there for you, but you won't let me be there in that way."

Light dawned. "Ah. I am not practicing what I preach. I know that I am not much of a crier. There are times when I wish I was. Before my curse, I was not given much to tears, and then after, well, I was scared of where strong emotions would take me. They seemed to lead me to bloodsucking . . . and Dorian . . . ." She sighed. "We are all different. What you have done for me is just what I needed when I was working my way through my feelings after Mongolia. You might not have thought it was much, but just knowing you were there, that I could go to you if I wanted to, helped so much."

Her words went some way towards mollifying him. A small, happy smile touched his face when she told him he had helped her.

"Do not feel like you are burdening me with your emotions," she continued, sure she was now getting somewhere.

The smile died. Sawyer confessed, "That's part of the problem. When you were holding me . . . I found myself liking that a lot more than I should have. Especially given the situation. I don't want to burden you with those emotions."

This time light didn't so much dawn as starburst. "Oh, Tom –"

He rushed on. "Talk about inappropriate. There I was, mourning for Allan, but there I also was, feeling good about you holding me. So, for all concerned, I think it's best if we avoid that sort of situation in the future." Since her comforting of him, there had been occasions where he had very much wanted to go and talk with her, but did not dare. Instead, he had closed his eyes and recalled how he had felt in her arms and her reassuring words, and used those memories as best he could to help him instead of the real thing.

Before she could reply, one of Nemo's crewmen entered, carrying a basket full of books. These were titles that some of the crew had read and now were being swapped for others. Nemo liked to encourage the studies and interests of his men, and the lone American on board was glad for this unexpected interruption to the conversation.

After talking with them for a few minutes, the crewman headed off into one of the other sections. Then Tom said quietly, "There's no need to worry about me, Mina, but I thank you for it."

She knew that the conversation was now at an end. But that did not mean she would not try resuming it at another time, and at least some progress had been made. "All right. I will not worry, if you promise me you will take more time for yourself. You have to have some hobbies that don't involve guns or training. It's clear you're widely read, for one."

"I promise," the American said, then left with some books tucked under his arm.

xXx

Despite Tom's assurances, Mina was still concerned for him. Hopefully now he would not shy away from her company as much, though they had not really gotten to discuss his feelings for her.

She wasn't sure if she was ready to discuss them either, actually.

But there had to be some way to reach out to him, without driving him away.

Then her recent recollections from her diary entries gave her an idea. It was somewhat of an unsettling idea to her in some ways, but it stayed.

xXx

Tom was in his room, alternating between writing and reading, by whim of his mood, when there was a knock at the door.

"It's open."

Mina entered, smiling but with some apprehension in her eyes. She was carrying a thick bundle of bound pages.

He stood. "What's wrong?" he asked in concern.

"Nothing is. I just . . . ." She looked down at the bundle, fingering it uncertainly.

Tom looked too. The pages were dog-eared and worn. He could see that the top sheet was typewritten.

She took a deep breath and became more determined. "I think you might be interested in reading this. It is a copy of what happened when my husband and our friends and I battled Count Dracula. The account was put together from our diary entries and newspaper reports. It helped us work out the Count, his powers and how to defeat him."

"Are you sure you want me to read it?" Is this her way of opening up to me? Her next words answered his unspoken question without a doubt.

"It will help you understand what happened, and it will help you to understand . . . me. I would like you to read it." She held the bundle out, now with clear decisiveness.

"I will."

END PART ONE

Notes:

The information and quotes about the phrase "crossing the Rubicon" come from Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia, and the webpage 'Eyewitness to History'.

The dialogue between Tom and Huck about future wealth and marriage is from "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" by Mark Twain. The descriptions of Southern cooking come from Mark Twain's autobiography.