Notes from GobHobblin: In hindsight (and because it was pointed out, because I don't think I would have noticed it myself otherwise), I cannot remember if I did Basil Street intentionally (a nod to Basil Rathbone), or if I was thinking of Basil Rathbone unconsciously and wrote his name instead of Baker Street. I am, however, going to say that it was intentional, because that sounds clever, and not like I was having a word-salad moment. Because, naturally, I never have word-salad moments. Ever…
In all seriousness, though, looking back at it, I kind of like it that way in a fridge moment. Just wanted to clear that up.
Ten minutes into the flight, Rei became seriously ill. It seemed that air travel did not agree with her, and as a result, she had locked herself in the cabin she shared with Alisha. This, of course, unintentionally deprived Alisha of access to her own compartments, which left her in somewhat of a foul mood. Certainly, more foul than when she had first boarded.
Thus, it was with an understandable trepidation when Shinji heard a knock on his own cabin door. There was no doubt on his mind that she was going to unleash a rain of withering verbal abuse on him when that door swung open. He answered the knock, the vague thought at the back of his head reminding him that he could have just kept his silence and pretended he wasn't there. When the door was fully open, he decided that if he stood still enough, she might not notice him there to begin with, and just leave.
There was no such luck, of course. Alisha stood in the passage with her arms crossed, a serious expression on her face. "English has locked the door," she muttered, "And I cannot get in. I may have…persuaded her to keep the door locked. Unintentionally."
Shinji swallowed, and leaned past the threshold into the corridor, glancing to the left towards the girls' cabin. The passage itself was a model of efficiency and metal, not the same warmth and wood of the cabin. He imagined that it was adding to Alisha's generally foul mood. "I'm guessing," he said, "That you threatened her with physical harm unless she opened the door." Her nose scrunched in irritation, and he nodded. "Well, that does tend to discourage one from actually…opening the door."
"This passage stinks of oil and grease!" she snapped, and Shinji took the hint. He stepped back, waving her in. She brushed past him, with a whiff of strawberries lingering in her wake. He felt a surprising rise in his pulse, and sat down without closing the door. As he had invited a young lady into his cabin, he did not want to give the appearance of doing anything untoward. Considering how his stomach fluttered, it seemed wise to offer himself a reminder of that as well.
She positioned herself next to the window, her arms still crossed as she leaned forward to gaze out onto the countryside below. It was a clear day, a fine day for flying and for seeing the world outside. "It is not," he ventured, "My homeland, but I have to say that England is certainly a pleasant enough country to look at. Provided one gets clear of London, of course."
"It is a filthy city," Alisha murmured. "I care not for London. How such a city can be the center of so great an empire, I will never know."
"And Berlin is so clean?" he asked. She gave him a withering eye.
"What do you deduce?" she asked, her tone syrupy sweet.
"You don't want to know," he said, "Frankly, I think my deductions are the last thing you care to hear about." She grimaced, and turned back to the window. He scratched an ear, and said quietly, "I…am sorry for our first meeting. I fear I opened old wounds." She said nothing, her chin propped in one hand. "May I ask…" he began.
"You may not," she said peevishly. He crossed his arms, wondering as to what he should do or say next.
"I do not intend to disrespect you," Shinji finally stated, "I merely wish to know a little more about you. I am willing to answer any questions you may have about me."
"What arrogance is it to make you think I have any interest in learning about you?" she said in an icy tone.
"The simple fact that you came to my cabin when you were locked out of yours, instead of going to the lounge," he replied. Alisha glanced at him, a slight blush darkening her features. That was all the indication Shinji needed to know he was right.
"I am hungry," she announced. "I think I shall go find some refreshments." She stood, and slipped into the passage, closing the door behind her. He rolled his eyes, wondering how it was that he could be consistently right about his deductions so often, yet consistently produce such wildly erratic results.
His thoughts were interrupted by another knock.
"Is there something you forgot?" He opened the cabin door, expecting to find Alisha. Instead, he saw three men in cheap suits with mean expressions and scarred faces. Shinji looked from one to the next, pondering this development.
Without a word, one of them laid a beefy hand on Shinji's chest, and gave him a nudge back into the cabin. Shinji offered no resistance, taking a seat. Two of them sat across from him, the third took a spot next to the door as he closed it. Shinji locked his fingers behind his head, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes, relaxing. All he need do now was to wait.
"So…you must be the Nip?"
"That's a vague term," Shinji said, indifferent.
"No other Celestials on this flight, right? Pretty easy to figger out," the one standing said.
"Celestials refer to the Chinese. If your going to use slurs, please use ones that are appropriate," Shinji said quietly.
That earned a chuckle, a sound of begrudging respect. "You have sand, little Nip," one of them said, "Let's see 'ow much you really 'ave. There's a friend of ours wants to talk you. Might take some of 'at boldness out, right?"
"Maybe not. I want to talk to him as well, you see. My companions?"
"We'll all 'ave a nice rest, and wait for the girl to return. Going to fetch some tea, I 'ope," one of the seated toughs muttered.
"Something like that," Shinji said with a shrug.
"And the other one, all sicky and locked in her room, right? We 'ave some friends watching the door. We'll collect her later," someone said.
"Of course. But one thing eludes me…there's a party waiting for us at Bixum. How do you account for that?"
"'Oo said we're stepping off? We'll just enjoy ourselves a nice little flight back to London, where some friends of ours are waiting."
Shinji shook his head. "That doesn't fit. The party will be concerned by our lack of arrival, and someone else will be waiting at that dock."
"You let us worry about that," one tough said, cheerfully.
"Of course. I see that you have complete charge of the situation," Shinji agreed. He heard the cabin door open, and smelled the strawberry perfume of Alisha.
"We should have tea in—" she began.
"Just step in 'ere, poppet," the thug by the door said. Shinji continued to keep his eyes closed, smiling. Everything had fallen into place.
"Alive, if you please," he said gently, and at his words, there was a sudden rush of noise, fury, and much swearing. As quickly as the cacophony had arrived, silence settled once more. The only sounds he heard now were a deep breathing, a muffled grunting, and sharp cursing. He opened his eyes to survey the damage.
The tough near the door had his hand pinned to the wall with a knife. A second was face first on the floor with his thumb touching the back of his head, his palm towards the ceiling. Alisha's iron grip on his wrist, and her knee was planted on his other arm for good measure. The third was staring down the barrel of a small but very imposing pistol, gripped in Alisha's free hand, his hands over a bloody nose.
"Oh, good," Shinji said, "I'm very glad all your talk wasn't just hot air."
"Hot air? Who are you to doubt…" Her expression of insult was replaced by a slow, creeping realization. "Wait. You truly had no idea I was able to fight? After everything I had said. After everything you had been told about me." Something in the way she said that implied how disturbed she was at the thought.
"I hadn't seen it before," he replied honestly. "You seemed to have had a lot of respect, but until I see something like that I can't very well assume that it is a fact."
"But you assumed I could handle this?"
"You did, didn't you?" he said happily, frisking the men's pockets. They all had pistols, but not the time to draw them. He tossed the weapons up onto one of the shelves.
"Are you insane?" Alisha snapped. "You mean you planned this? On the assumption I could fight, but not the actual conviction?"
Shinji looked confused. "Are you encouraging me to doubt your individual abilities? I can do so more in the future, if that's what you wish, but—"
"Just tell me," she managed in an acidic tone, "What is planned next, you chattering, idle, lazy…"
"I'm going to take a look around. They said they had someone watching your cabin. Did you see anyone in the corridor?"
"Two thugs, which I intended to mention. Until someone decided to try and lay hands on me." She gave a gruesome glare at the man who's hand was pinned to the wall. He flinched as if struck, and immediately stopped muttering.
Shinji leaned into the corridor, and saw the two individuals down the way. They saw him as well, and pulled their pistols. One of them began to advance down the passage. Getting into a gunfight on board a dirigible seemed an awful idea, so he turned to Alisha to ask her tactical advice on the situation. "Alisha, they have—"
A part of the bulkhead exploded around the first. The door to Alisha and Rei's cabin crushed him into unyielding steel and knocked him senseless. The second gaped, and retreated backwards and around the bend.
"Never mind," Shinji said cheerfully. "I see you have the situation handled here. If you can watch these bright boys, I'll be right back." With that, he slipped into the corridor. Alisha looped her free leg through her victim's tensed arm, and plopped on the bench, allowing her a more comfortable and better lock on her victim. She glanced at the remaining thugs.
"There are two bullets in this pistol," she said, smiling in a way that frightened them, "But I only need one to kill all three of you. If you are curious as to how this is possible, than please, make your move. I insist."
Shinji passed the hole in the bulkhead, to see Rei sitting on her bunk, her face a shade of green. "I heard fighting next door," she mumbled, as miserable as a wet cat, "and I heard someone in the corridor. I…" She swallowed. "I do not feel so good."
Shinji picked up the man's pistol and tossed it to her feet. "You're doing just fine. Almost got both of them."
"I will try to be more accurate next time," she said with a smile that veered more towards grimace.
"I have no doubt you will be," Shinji said confidentially, and slipped around the corner.
Rei leaned over on her seat, watching him depart. She looked down at the unconscious man, and finding herself with out any other conversational partners, informed him, "I think I do not like flying."
Shinji hurried up the stairwell, knowing that there would be an ambush at the top. He was not a strong fighter, but he was clever one, and a mean one, too, when called to it. Between Misato's 'education' and Toji whacking him him with a shinai, Shinji had developed a healthy respect for how easy it was to be hurt, and to hurt others. Thus, the remaining thug, confused, panicking, would probably be within his physical abilities to handle.
The question was whether he could get close enough to a man with a pistol. That was something that would have to wait, however. More important was which side of the stairwell the attack would come from; the left, or the right.
Movement appeared, and his senses screamed right. He threw himself to the stairs as an arm snaked around the corner and a pistol fired a shot down the stairs. Fighting the sudden slackness that had seized his limbs at the loud report of the pistol, Shinji popped up long enough to grab the hem of the man's jacket, and yank. The man went off balance and flew down the stairs, bouncing head over heels until he reached the bottom. He rolled, painfully, to a sitting position, and had just enough time to bring his vision back into focus before Shinji landed on his back with both heels. He pitched forward onto the deck, unconscious.
For his part, Shinji fell off of the now disabled man and landed hard, seat first, on the stairs. "Ah," he sighed, his feet, knees, and rear end throbbing and his head buzzing. "Five reeled in. Not bad for a fishing trip," he commented.
The aircrew of the dirigible assisted the three children in restraining the five prisoners, and (with some forceful persuasion from Alisha) turned the flight around for a return to London. In time, they arrived…again…to the Aeroyard and were signaled down to Hanger 5. Waiting for them was a group of NERV men headed by a square jawed and severely mustachioed fellow named Donovan. "We were informed by Mr. Holmes that you would be returning today with prisoners barely thirty minutes after your departure," he said, his tone not registering any sort of surprise or bewilderment. He was a man accustomed to the strange orders and twists of direction that working in NERV produced. The five bully boys were handed off to be processed and interrogated.
Alisha watched in irritation as her bags were removed and stacked. "You knew the entire time this was going to happen," she snapped. "You never even planned on going to Blackwood's estate. could have given me a little advanced warning."
"You could have packed a little less either way," he said testily.
"If we are going to continue this working relationship," she continued, "Then a level of trust must be involved. I do not see how I can trust you if you hide your plans from us."
"I cannot trust you if you continue to berate and belittle us at every turn," he replied, still irritated but his tone more gentle. They stood together and watched her mountain of baggage roll away.
"How do propose we solve this dilemma?" she grumbled.
"I'll think about it," he sighed, and turned to leave. His own crate was on a trundle cart, and he began walking it towards the Yard's main entrance. As he walked, he realized Rei was walking next to him, still a little green around the gills but clearly doing better with terra firma under her toes once again.
"How was your first trip outside of London?" he asked.
"Eventful," she murmured.
"I hope that it has not put you off of traveling."
"Perhaps a train would be a more pleasant experience," she offered.
"I agree-" he said, then felt the words die on his lips.
Barely twenty feet away, staring at him with worry, was Shinji's mother. There. At the Aeroyard. Probably hearing about the returning dirigible. Come to see if her son was okay, possibly waiting in the offices of the Yard for news. Because, of course, as a doting mother, she was concerned for whether or not his plan would have gone off without a hitch. The plan he had told her about without thinking of all who was involved. "Oh, bother," he whispered, feeling his face numb, and turning to look at Rei. She gazed straight at the women staring back at them, curious but unaware as to the turmoil building.
Shinji glanced back to his mother, whose eyes were starting to widen, and turned back again to look at Rei who, bless her heart, was still completely innocent to the situation that was developing. "Shinji," she asked, recognizing the woman whose mouth had dropped open, "Isn't that…Dr. Ikari?" He pursed his lips, waiting for a reaction. His mother trembled, snapped her mouth shut, turned on her heel, and marched towards the exit. He swallowed on a dry throat.
"Yes. It is…was," he mumbled. Of course. You had seen every circumstance, except this one. "And this is why sons never let their mothers know what they're up to," he said to Rei, who continued to gaze after the departed doctor. She blinked, and wondered at what that could possibly mean.
