Tempest in a Teapot
Chapter 12: A Game of Chess
She blew a curl that was tickling her nose out of her face. "What it says is that you are a royal pain in my backside and I have to use a firearm to keep you in line."
"Except it's not just me. You're rather fond of shooting Tesla as well, though that one I can understand. Who doesn't want to shoot that little megalomaniac?" John thought about Helen's clever but whiny protégé, Will, and thought if he had a shooting list that young William would be in the top ten. Zimmerman's fretful "But, Magnus!" exclamations often grated on John's nerves.
Helen cocked her head and pointed at him. "He, much like you, can be a royal pain the arse and deserved every shot I took at him. Neither of you are innocents by any means. He, however, would be enough of a gentleman to not intrude on me in such a private moment. And of course James is the best man of you lot." She gave him a smug look to emphasize her favorable comparison of Nikola and James over John.
He frowned. Helen was beautiful, clever and she knew it. She knew how to get what she wanted and what to say to a man to get him to do exactly as she desired. Praising Nikola and James were her way to sticking it to Druitt. She knew very well he did not handle his jealousy well, especially where those two men were concerned. As members of The Five, they were the only two true rivals for Helen's affections.
Resting her chin on her hand as it curled over the rim of the tub, Helen waited for John's explosion. He had been looking far too comfortable in this setting and she figured the best way to get rid of him without having to expose herself was to fire up his temper. A few more barbs about how much better Druitt's two counterparts were and John would be storming off in a snit. Then she'd retrieve her forgotten towels, get dressed and find one of those guns. She would make sure he knew just how displeased she was about him intruding in on her bath time. She smiled a bit at that last thought.
John observed her self-satisfied posture and countenance and managed to keep his temper in check. Check. What a perfect choice of words to fit the little game they were playing. He leaned forward, bringing his hands together in the steeple pose and eyed her intently.
Chess was a game he and Watson enjoyed playing. Two opponents moving against one another, each intent on capturing all the pieces and clearing the board. The little game he and his beloved were currently playing was a different version of that strategy game. Two stubborn individuals fighting for control, each intent on winning their way by knocking aside all obstacles in their path to clear the board.
Visually, he pictured the board. He, as the dark king, at one end. Helen, clearly the lovely queen in white, at the opposite side of the board. Between them stood the various pieces to be moved about and out of the way.
The issue of trust was represented in the form of the bishop, the next most important piece on the board. John had to earn her trust once again. Not an easy feat but a necessary one. That would come with time. And God knows they had time on their hands being stuck in this hell hole of a time period.
The other bishop was in the form of Gregory Magnus. Helen's father was zealot in his role to protect and study the abnormals of the world. His work was the most important thing in his life, possibly even more than his only child whom he adored. In order for John's plan to come to fruition, Gregory would make his way onto the playing board.
The knight was in the form of Watson, a well educated, wealthy and loyal man. John had made a small inroad with James last night, something Helen knew nothing about. Or if James did mention their dinner, John doubted that he would divulge all of their conversation to Helen. Watson was not only good at keeping a secret, he enjoyed knowing something others did not.
When Tesla would enter the game, he would be in the form of a rook. A formidable, protective tower that John would have to knock out of the way or be able to turn to his aid. John hoped that Nikola would be of help to them because he seriously doubted that Helen would allow him to kill their old friend. She was far too fond of their old classmate.
And eventually there would be his little golden child. There was no piece that correctly represented Ashley. She was the princess, second only to her mother the queen. After John claimed Helen they, as a united front, would reclaim their lost child.
Everything else, anyone else would serve as pawns. They were expendable.
Correction, there was one other he had to concern himself with… the boy. Helen had raised him as her own child and they were plainly close. Henry was unquestionably devoted to her, a strong point in his favor, and Ashley had clearly been fond of him, another point in the boy's favor. Yes, Mr. Foss was going to have to be brought into the fold in order to complete their family. The only piece that fit him would be a knight… he would be Helen's little knight. His amazing technical skills had often come in handy in the protecting Helen's team. They would be useful in protecting the family that was to come.
Such were the thoughts that ran through Druitt's head as he weighed his options for making his second move. His first had been to invade her bath time and force her to engage in the game. Her first move had been to toss his rivals, James [the knight] and Nikola [the rook], in his face in order to upset him so that he would end the game.
Helen's confidence began to slip as John's silence lingered on. Several emotions flittered across his broad face as he contemplated some unknown, deep thought. She saw what she felt was focus, determination, amusement – at what she had no idea, and resolve. The last one was what had her worried. His temper showed no danger of flaring up, which in itself was a big surprise, and she racked her head for her next line of attack. Her concentrate was lost when he suddenly smiled disarmingly at her.
You want to dance? Alright, my love, we'll dance, Druitt thought. He positively purred at the anticipation of their upcoming mental game of chess. Like her, he loved a challenge. It was one of the traits they both had in common. Stubbornness and determination were two others.
"Watson and Tesla were and can be perfect gentleman. That was one of the reasons it took them decades to work up the nerve to confess their affections for you. I, on the other hand, have been clear and forthcoming about my admiration from the start. That was one of the reasons you chose me." He gave her an arrogant little raise of his brow and bowed his head as if to confirm that fact.
She snorted. "Please. That is so not true. You were just as reserved and proper as the other four. Well, at least at first. You were all 'Yes, Miss Magnus' this and 'As you please, Miss' that. It was Miss, Miss, Miss for almost two years! I don't think you even knew my first name was Helen."
He snorted back at her. "That was called manners. It was the Victorian era, after all. If I had responded in any other way, you and the others would have considered me a barbarian."
Scowling, she retorted, "You are a barbarian. Hence, your inappropriate presence in my bath." She shifted in the tub. The water had cooled and goose bumps appeared on her on her arms. Her hair was starting to feel like ice. She really needed to get out of the bath. "But let us get back to the point."
"Which is?" Druitt drawled lazily. He knew she was getting cold by the way she was starting to clench her jaw and had thrown her arms around her shoulder tight. She would be wanting her towels really soon. He tried to give her an innocent smile which only caused her to glare at him again.
"The point," she spat through clenched teeth, "is what did you say to James? He's been behaving a little strangely. If you told him anything that causes serious changes to the timeline I will…" she threatened again. "Well, I'll do something!" she barked at him and tossed her head in annoyance.
He rolled his eyes at her. "Are we back to you threatening to shoot again? Temper, temper," he tsked at her. "And I have not said anything to James that would cause issues to his timeline. What he might infer from my comments I cannot help. He is le detective extraordinaire," John said with an exaggerated tone of awe.
She sighed loudly to show her unhappiness with how this whole situation was turning out. Druitt was determined not to leave her alone and she didn't once believe his claim that he had not clued James in to things that the sleuth was not to know. Pursing her lips, she gave him a stern look and steeled herself to rise up out of the bath. She was freezing and had no intention of allowing him to hold her hostage here all day. Unwrapping her arms, she placed her hands on the rim of the tub and slowly began to get up, naked be damned.
He held his hands up at her to still her motions. "Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. Oh, right… you aren't wearing any." He smiled as she inhaled a harsh breath at his brashness. "Don't fret, luv. I haven't peeked in… yet."
"That's it." She pointed a finger at him. "Once I'm out of this bath I'm going to find the biggest gun in this house and hunt you down" she promised him. "It's not as if killing you will change the timeline," she smugly informed him.
He smiled from ear to ear in triumph. "Ah, so we began our dance anew," he said pleased and handed her the towels as he rose to stand. He laughed softly as she swore, "Son of a bitch!" and yanked the towels from his hand.
Waggling his eyebrows at her, he let her know that "I await your hunt with baited breath." He then unexpectedly turned around to give her some privacy.
Holding out the large towel, she rose up behind it and quickly wrapped it around herself. "That is NOT what I meant, John Druitt" she began. "We are not doing our dance again!"
Grinning at the wall, he murmured, "No, we are doing something else," thinking again of their mental game of chess. She had responded to his second move in a better fashion than he had hoped.
"What did you say?" she demanded as she climbed out of the tub and stood close behind him. Of all the times not to have a weapon ready on hand she thought sarcastically. Here he was, within grabbing distance and with his back turned too. She could always knock him out cold with a proper hit to the back of the neck she cogitated. And then drag him into the bath to drown. Sure, he'd be heavy but where there was a will there was a way. She smiled to herself.
As if sensing her malicious train of thought, he turned his head to peer at her over his shoulder, causing her to stiffen, and said, "If you kill me, you will never know what I told James. And that would be a shame because he seemed really fascinated by our conversation. In fact, he used the word fascination twice."
Helen opened her mouth to reply only to have him wink at her and teleport out of the room. "Argh!" she yelled and sat down on the rim of the claw footed tub. "That man drives me crazy!"