Disclaimer: The characters from "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are owned by Telescene, NewLine Television, The Over the Hill Gang, Coote/Hayes, etc. No profit is being made from this story. No infringement upon copyrighted material is intended.
Setting: After Nectar, just at the beginning of Cave of Fear
Spoilers: Pilot Movie/Journey Begins, Stranded, More Than Human, Nectar, Cave of Fear
Thanks: To Ariadne and CMS for the friendship, conversations, and great discussions that result in so many ideas. Not to mention the encouragement in writing, all the beta reading and the laughter their comments provoke. Also thanks to Susannah, who is always willing to lend a hand proofreading. Any mistakes that are left are mine, despite all the wonderful help I've had.
Author's Notes: The time line for Roxton's reference of he and Marguerite knowing each other three weeks and four days caused a lot of research to be done. Ariadne and I consulted quite a bit on what would be feasible time for crossing the Atlantic, the travel time in South America to the plateau, the length of time the explorers were on the plateau until the end of Stranded, how soon More Than Human and Nectar could occur. In the end we decided our timing was feasible.
As a reminder, this story is set very early on the explorers' stay on the plateau. Relationships between the explorers were not always smooth then, but were often a lot of fun.
Description: In The Knife, Roxton references an incident that takes place three weeks and four days into his and Marguerite's acquaintance. And no, I don't think it was that little contretemps on the banks of the Amazon. Their discussion in The Knife doesn't match that incident. I envision that their little excursion went something like this:
Resolutely Looking the Other Way
by rann with major input from Ariadne
and CMS
Scene: Treehouse:
"Challenger, I can cast more bullets, but we need gunpowder." Roxton's graveled voice was firm. Veronica, when learning of their dwindling supplies, had pulled out equipment from her parents' expedition. The expedition's hunter had spent the early morning looking over the forms for casting both the lead bullets and the metal shell casings.
"Your varied skills never fail to astound me, Lord Roxton." Marguerite commented derisively while scanning the bookshelves.
"I'd be happy to demonstrate a few more of my skills, Miss Krux." Roxton's chest brushed her shoulder as he leaned his head down, his words low-pitched, meaningful, meant only for her ears.
"Have we really used that many bullets?" Summerlee considered the number boxes of ammunition that had been lugged up the Amazon as he strove to head off another round of sniping between the volatile couple. He wasn't sure what had been said but could tell by their body language they were preparing for another fray.
"We haven't exactly been sparing in our rate of fire, Professor." Roxton responded curtly unhappy with the old man's interruption. He had little patience with their elderly companion, who, in the hunter's mind, should have never been on the expedition.
His obvious lack politeness to Summerlee earned him a narrowed eye look from the other explorer he often wished elsewhere. He could think of many places he'd like to encounter her slender form, but this deathtrap that the plateau had turned into wasn't one of them. Or it might be if she'd reconsider a more intimate relationship. He thought it ironic that she had developed a protective attitude to the older man, when, in his opinion, she was in need of protection. Specifically his protection. That thought caused an inward smile as he surveyed his beautiful companion.
"I can manufacture gunpowder if I have sufficient quantities of the proper chemicals. Potassium nitrate is on hand; charcoal is not a problem. Unfortunately, we do not have the necessary quantities of sulfur available." Challenger's statement was tinged with enough arrogance to set his companions' teeth on edge.
"We can find a supply of sulfur, Professor Challenger." Veronica stepped off the elevator, hair still wet, and her abbreviated costume damp from an impromptu shower. Ned trailed along at her side, a habit he developed these past days. The blonde couple put the bags of fruit they'd gathered on the table. Ned also laid down the reeds he'd collected at Summerlee's request for use as plant stakes. "We just need to be careful where we search." The jungle bred girl warned.
"I know how to find sulfur, young lady." Challenger was belligerent whenever he thought his expertise was called into question.
"I'm going with you." The tactless tone of voice reflected Veronica's lack of trust in her newfound companions' ability to navigate the plateau safely. In her opinion they did not accord the inherent dangers the proper respect.
"I can go as well." Ned eagerly volunteered. The jungle girl smiled pleased with his enthusiasm.
Roxton looked from Challenger to Marguerite and Summerlee, torn between where he should be. The man he had sworn to follow to hell and back or a pair of novices. He knew based on the past few days experience that Veronica would insist on going with Challenger. He could insist that Ned, as the only other fit man, stay; but Ned's skills were very limited. He was largely untested. No, trusting him to guard Summerlee and Marguerite was not an option. Without the electric fence working reliably, the hunter didn't consider it safe to leave Summerlee and Marguerite alone at the treehouse.
"Don't take any unnecessary chances, Challenger." Drifting over to the landing by the elevator, Roxton spoke quietly while Challenger adjusted his hat.
"You'll stay here?" Challenger kept his voice down.
"Someone needs to keep an eye on these two."
Challenger nodded his agreement, relieved that Roxton would guard the pair. "It'll be better when I can make some more modifications to the electric fence." Pride in his innovations easily distracted the redheaded scientist.
"It'll be better when we can find our way off of this damned plateau." the hunter amended. "But for that we need ammunition, not only for our use here, but for the trip back down the Amazon."
"I'll return with the sulfur."
***
Roxton stepped off the lift, frowning as he noticed the empty great room. "Marguerite? Summerlee?" He needed to assure himself of the safety of both his charges. His brief scouting of the area around the treehouse had revealed a new set of apemen tracks as well as traces of a small pack of raptors.
"Oh, there you are, John." Pipe between his teeth, Summerlee carried in a pot with a flowering plant, just retrieved from the balcony. He fussed with it a bit, pinching back the fading blooms to encourage new growth. He had recovered from the illness caused by the bee venom, but still tired easily. Removing his pipe as he covered his mouth, he yawned, "I believe I'll take a short rest as soon as I finish."
"Where's Marguerite?" The hunter noted her hat was missing from the rack on the wall.
"I rather thought she said something about the pond." The elderly professor remarked absently not raising his eyes from his work, anxious to finish and seek his cot.
"How convenient. I won't have to go too far to drown her." Roxton strode furiously back on to the elevator.
"I assume you can handle that on your own?" Summerlee inquired politely, lifting his head to watch the hunter as he fought to keep his smile to himself.
***
Confident that no wildlife lurked in the area Marguerite shed her blouse, dropping it on top of her belt. The pond was just too tempting to resist. The chance to be really clean was not to be missed. A snap of a twig had her snatching up her belt and fumbling with the holster flap stubbornly hindering access to her pistol.
"A raptor wouldn't give you this kind of time." Marguerite's shoulders sagged in relief at the sardonic tones of Lord Roxton, now standing in the clearing by the edge of the pond.
"Don't you have anything better to do than sneak around?" Marguerite sharply inquired as she laid her holster back on the ground. "Surely there's something you can go shoot." Sarcasm laced her tone.
Roxton surveyed the partially dressed woman before him. "I can't think of any place with better scenery." His grin was wicked.
"I'm not here for your entertainment." Marguerite's dry remark just widened his grin.
"Pity."
"Will you go now? I'd like to finish my bath." When the hunter showed no signs of leaving she added, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"And what are you going to be able to do from the water, when your pistol's lying on the grass?" His voice was even, as he contained his anger at the risk she took.
"I'll manage. There's not a sign of any caiman. Or crocodiles." She added the last pointedly, since he had misidentified the species in their encounter on the Amazon River.
"I know there's none. I took a swim here myself, a couple of days ago." The trip he'd taken with Malone and Veronica to the giant beehive had left him a mess. But retrieving the queen bee's royal jelly had saved Summerlee.
"So leave."
"There are other things around to worry about. It's not safe to be out here alone." Roxton obstinately insisted.
"And who guarded you?" The dark-haired explorer unpinned her hair as she spoke, determined to take full advantage of the pond, once she regained her privacy.
Roxton's attention was riveted on her movements, fighting the urge to thrust his fingers into her hair. "Marguerite, if I had known you were so concerned, I'd have had you join me." He rumbled while absorbing her appearance. The luxuriant dark curls flowing down her back, the camisole protecting her modesty, the slender waist disappearing into the riding jodhpurs. In all, much too beautiful, too delicate for the rigors of jungle life. "I'll remember next time," he promised meaningfully.
"In your dreams, Roxton!"
"Most assuredly!"
"I take it you're not leaving?"
"I can't leave you all alone, unprotected." Roxton eyed her smugly.
Marguerite sighed. "Turn around."
"No reward for the body guard service?"
"Turn around!" The commanding tones of the expedition's financier were repaid with the sight of the hunter's broad back.
"If you insist."
"How you ever got a reputation as a ladies' man, I'll never know." The flippant comment came as the dark haired explorer resumed disrobing.
Roxton smiled ruefully. In truth almost any other woman he encountered would be coyly trying to entice him into an aquatic frolic, acting the tart, tossing clothes at him. It must be his perverse nature that wanted the attention from the one woman who was determined not to indulge him. Glancing down, the pile of clothes a foot or two away was growing. The boots stood nearby. A splash alerted him to Marguerite's entrance into the water. The temptation to feast his eyes was almost overwhelming.
Marguerite dove underwater and surfaced, throwing her hair back. She scrutinized her determined protector on the shore. He was still watching the surrounding jungle. She had watched him as she slipped out of her clothes, ready to take him to task if he tried to peek. But he hadn't. She might have been offended at a seeming lack of interest, except she saw him shift uncomfortably a couple of times and then resolutely look the other way, concentrate on the surrounding brush. Acting the gallant gentleman, protecting her. She couldn't quite believe a man would behave like that.
"Was Summerlee okay when you left him?" Marguerite called as she made use of her soap.
Roxton drew on a heretofore unknown well of self-restraint, as he forced himself not to turn to answer her. "He was taking a nap."
"Good." Marguerite inhaled the expensive soap's delicate scent, conjuring up images of the modest luxuries of civilization. Hot water, soft thick towels. The sharp "Damn!" as her prized possession slipped from her fingers had the hunter wheeling around; rifle raised at shoulder level, eyes searching for a threat.
"Don't look!" The angry cry halted the hunter mid turn.
"You're all right?" The tense question was tossed out as Roxton faced away from the pond, once again testing his reserves of self-control.
"Yes, I just dropped something." A splash followed the words as Marguerite dove in search of her treasure from Harrod's.
Roxton chanced a glance over his shoulder and was enthralled by the blurred vision below the surface of the water. Mouth dry as he stared, he barely retained sense enough to force his gaze away when he realized she was rising from the depths.
The soap firmly clutched in her hand, Marguerite eyed the back of her protector while she treaded water. Satisfied that his attention was elsewhere, she resumed her ablutions.
The accompanying splashes caught the hunter's imagination. Pale limbs, dark streaming hair seared his mind. It again took every ounce of restraint not to confirm the picture she made. Looking for a distraction he glanced down again at the garments near his feet. The items that grabbed his attention did little to cool the growing urgency within him. Taunting the beauty he visualized floating in the pond seemed a good way to vent his feelings. Reaching down he plucked up the drawers and camisole. Their fragility contrasted dramatically with the practical jungle garb of her blouse and khaki pants. Fingering the drawers he said, "Run out of silk?"
Marguerite's mouth pulled in a straight line as she contemplated strangling the man who insisted on protecting her. "Playing with ladies' undergarments, Lord Roxton? Have you often settled for such a poor substitute?" the silky voice mocked, a part of her still furious at the loss of her fine lingerie for Challenger's capricious electric fence.
"It's not the undergarments, it's what they cover that's of interest." He dropped the drawers back on the discarded clothes lying on the ground, but still caressed the lacey camisole. His voice and actions deliberately invoked salacious images.
With a last dip to rinse the soap and cool her heating blood, she swam to the bank of the pond. Climbing out she grabbed the wretched excuse for a towel, hastily blotting the excess water.
"If you like I could lend you my shirt to wear until you can dry off properly at the treehouse." The words were helpful, but the tone was suggestive.
"Not even in your wildest fantasy will I traipse around the jungle wearing just your shirt." Marguerite's voice was the verbal equivalent of cold water being dumped on him.
She eyed Roxton who still held her camisole, his fingertips suggestively stroking the delicate eyelet fabric. She pulled on her drawers, and then with a glare, reached around him and snatched her camisole away. "I thought it was the jungle you were interested in."
Roxton smiled; pleased he'd gotten a rise out of the dark-haired beauty. He noted her jodhpurs were now missing from the pile of clothes. She was wasting no time in dressing.
"I'm…interested…in many things, Marguerite."
Pulling on her boots, the slender explorer shot back, "Actually, you always struck me as having a one track –" Her words were cut off by Roxton swinging around, his callused hand covering her mouth as he carried her to the ground.
"Quiet!" He hissed the word out, stilling her instinctive struggles against his rough handling.
She froze, recognizing that he was acting as her protector, not a seducer. Easing his hold on her, he scooped up the rifle, while still lying prone, scanned the jungle. Marguerite eyed her holster lying a few feet away. She shifted and extended her arm. Roxton's hand clamped down on her wrist halting any movement. His weight pinned her down. The slight shake of his head and a tilt toward the bushes had her swallowing. Three apemen were visible, trudging along, apparently unaware of their enemies hidden in the grass nearby.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Marguerite was intensely aware of the strength of the masculine body that partially covered her, the broad shoulders, solid chest, and muscular arms. Roxton kept his eyes focused on their foes, but couldn't drive away the sensations coursing through him. Ironically he wished she'd had a chance to don her blouse. Maybe that would have lessened the effect she was having on him, but somehow he doubted it.
The jungle resumed its normal activities as the apemen passed out of sight. The calls of the birds and chatter of the monkeys provided their normal background noise.
Roxton surveyed his companion. She was an enigma. Her stated goals, her vaunted sense of self-preservation, didn't always match her actions. She'd saved him from the apemen attacking the treehouse. She'd saved Summerlee from Tribune. Fate had made her his companion. Stranded as they were, they all needed each other. And her beautiful face just inches away. That tempting mouth was irresistible. Unable to stop himself he lowered his head to take advantage of the situation.
"Are they gone?" The faint inquiry from her soft lips sent his senses into overdrive.
"Just a bad memory." He breathed his answer, his lips nearly at his goal.
The shock of hitting the ground jarred his emotions as well as his body. The fragile-seeming woman sat up, having shoved him away. "Good." She gazed about complacently, snapped up her blouse and shoved her arms into the sleeves.
"You've dawdled here long enough! Let's go!" Roxton stood up bad-temperedly.
Marguerite smiled to herself, knowing she'd spoiled his game. "It wasn't my fault the apemen showed up."
"And if I hadn't been here, you would have been a corpse!" Roxton made himself remember what drew him out to the pond initially.
"But I would have been a clean corpse." Marguerite remarked insolently.
Roxton wheeled about sharply, stalking off in the direction of the treehouse. "Stay here, then! Suit yourself!"
Smirking, Marguerite trailed behind him.
Roxton's anger kept the pace fast, one part of his mind making sure that the beautiful thorn in his side was closely following him. His eyes narrowed as he saw Veronica and Malone dashing toward the treehouse.
"Marguerite! We've got trouble!" He broke into a run.
"Could this day get any better?" The sarcastic words were lost as the female explorer darted after him.
Their ongoing feud/flirtation was once more forgotten in the press of another Lost World disaster.
finis
Author's Notes:
The Knife Episode notes:
In the episode, The Knife, Roxton comments that it wouldn't be the first time
Marguerite was bathing with Roxton present. It is also mentioned that they
had only known each other three weeks and four days. In the pilot, he comes
by, acting quite the cad, stares at her and taunts her before the caiman shows
up. That scene did not fit the description in The Knife, where she talks about
him being a gentleman and resolutely looking the other way. The question I
posed to Ariadne and CMS was: When do you think the incident they talk about
occurred? And do we have another missing scene here? Obviously we decided
we did.
Timeline:
Ariadne and I discussed the possibilities for the timeline. After tracking
down timeframes for ocean voyages of the time period, we decided a week for
crossing the Atlantic was possible. We used Doyle's original destination of
Para and his mention of a steamship to Manaos. The guide in the TLW pilot referenced
Manaos. We allowed some time for the trip to the plateau. The time on the
plateau to the end of the pilot is about three days. We decided More Than Human
and Nectar happened right after their arrivals. The explorers were still learning
quite a bit about their new environment during those episodes. We also decided
that the three weeks and four days of acquaintance could start at the beginning
of their journey across the Atlantic and not the first meeting at the Zoological
Society.
In London apparently all they had time for was Marguerite to tell Roxton he wasn't what she expected, a few verbal shots and one very well-placed rifle shot. A hell of a way to introduce yourself, but oh, how effective!
Timing:
London to Para ...............7 days
Para to Manaos...............2+ days
Manaos to Plateau..........3+ days
Pilot (on plateau).............3 days
More Than Human...........3 days
Nectar...............................3 days
Mininum Total.................21 days
3 weeks & 4 days = 25 days so our time frame is feasible.
Nectar Episode notes:
A giant bee stings Summerlee. The effects of the venom can only be counteracted
by the queen bee's royal jelly from the hive. In order to get into the hive,
Roxton, Veronica and Malone cut open a bee and spread the resulting slime on
themselves. To comfort Summerlee, who is delirious, Marguerite pretends to
be his deceased wife. She also yields up her silk undergarments so that Challenger
has non-conducting fabric to use on his electric fence constructed to keep the
apemen out.
Cave of Fear Episode notes:
The opening scene of this episode shows Veronica bathing, and Malone gathering
reeds or wood. The next scene has Challenger, Malone, and Veronica out looking
for sulfur when they accidentally intrude on the Manuins' burial ground. Challenger
is taken. Malone and Veronica return to the treehouse to seek the aid of the
others.
Tourist Season Episode notes:
I couldn't resist the opportunity to contrast the bathing scene in Tourist
Season with the one I've envisioned here. You may recognize a few references
in the story.
The story's title:
In The Knife, Marguerite describes Roxton standing by the pond, 'resolutely
looking the other way'. Roxton tells her it took 'every ounce of restraint
he had; still does."