AN- Ah, I love that I'm getting to look at lots of maps. I'm terrible at geography, but I think I'm doing okay so far. Thanks are in order as usual to you, my readers. You all rock, and thanks so much for reading my story. I'll deliver the goods as often as possible in return for your reviews!

Enjoy…

Meiringen, Switzerland was still days away. The Nautilus was to pass into the Alborian Sea and head towards Italy, where they would have to disembark and continue on land. Things would be moving at a much slower pace than if they could carry on across the sea- but still, things were definitely improving- early in the morning, crew members had picked up a signal from the missing Nautiloid.

''It seems to have been left somewhere along the border of Italy…'' Nemo said, more to himself than the members of the League who stood before him. He stared out to sea through the window of the vessel and thought carefully.

''So how long will it take us?'' Sawyer pressed, watching the Captain. He turned to face Tom and replied that it would only be a few days now. The American gave a wry smile and nodded, tapping the pistol at his hip absent mindedly.''Let's just hope that some Italian spotted the weird thing popping out of the water to say hello- and the Nautiloid too.'' Skinner said jokingly from his seat at the desk. Nemo shooed him away from the maps and compasses that he was fiddling with and straightened them.

''But who knows how far away he could be by now?'' Jekyll suggested. Sawyer shrugged and looked out of the window.

''Not so far we won't find him.'' He re-assured the group, the vision of 'dream' Alan swimming through his mind.

Frustration was a feeling that everyone had from time to time. However, there was no-one on board the Nautilus who felt frustration as often as Henry Jekyll did. To have a voice constantly in your head, telling you all about the darkest parts of your mind that you didn't even know existed, was frustrating.
But you can't have a voice surgically removed from your brain. Nor he could he remove it chemically. The potion he had concocted one night so long ago seemed to have permanently scarred him, and he was sure that there was no way back. He had made himself a schizophrenic, and that was that- but the voice could still take control of him when it had the chance. It was almost as though he had created the next level of schizophrenia…the voice being able to take over physically, changing his whole appearance until he became someone else…Edward Hyde.
This had been going on for almost a year or two now…he was used to the effects that drinking the elixir had on him…but he was worried- no, he was terrified- that Edward would be able to come out at any time without his drinking the potion…God only knows what he could do with that much freedom, it was awful even to think about.

Henry Jekyll had decided that for now at least, he would make a solemn oath not to touch the elixir. Every vial's worth he drank could give Hyde that last chemical change he needed to take over Henrys body whenever he felt like it…and the doctor was not about to let that happen.

''Come in.''

Nemo did not look up as Jekyll entered the room carrying a small brown case. He did look up when the doctor left the case on the table and then left the room again without a word. Puzzled, the captain undid the clasp of the case and looked inside. It was almost full of slender vials, each containing a clear liquid. Nemo closed it again slowly and half understood why Jekyll had left it there. He obviously wanted him to put it somewhere away from him…but why? Was the temptation becoming too great? Or maybe he just had to get rid of it to keep Hyde at bay in his head?

Rodney Skinner was only vaguely aware of footsteps in the corridor outside. He slouched in the arm chair, a bottle of whisky in one hand, and a small glass in the other. Already half the bottle was gone, but he continued to drink the alcohol anyway. The footsteps were gone again and all was quiet, leaving the cockney man to his thoughts. There were quite slurred by now, as was his speech. 'But luckily', he thought, 'I don't have to speak to anyone, anyway…' As he tried to stand up, it felt as though the world was sliding in the opposite direction, so he fell back again just to steady him self.

''Okay, let's try that again…'' He mumbled to himself, and with great effort he pushed himself up and out of the chair. He swayed on the spot for a second, before finding his balance. Leaving the glass on the table he shuffled off with the bottle, swigging from it vigorously. Stumbling out of the lounge, he attempted to make his way back to his room.

''Ugh…as if it isn't difficult enough when you're sober…'' Skinner complained, leaning against the wall. While he forced the logical part of his brain to start working for him again, he took another swig of whisky.
''Oh yeah, I remember…''

Rodney struggled to walk in a straight line as he walked along the corridor. The bottle was now only a quarter full. He looked at it and blinked a little.
''Where'd all that go? Ah well…''

Suddenly his feet took him over to the right and straight into a door- luckily it was slightly ajar and he fell through it onto the floor. As he was drunk, he hardly felt a thing. However, the loud bang he made as he hit the ground and the sound of the bottle rolling away into the room was more than enough to announce his presence.

Mina regarded him with annoyance at first, but then she saw the bottle that stopped at her feet. She knew what the liquor was without having to see the label, as she could smell it on Skinner.

''Allo Mina! How'd I get down here? Ugh, anyway…you alright, love?''

''Yes, Mr Skinner, I'm quite alright. You, on the other hand, are stone drunk.''

''What? No I am not…I may have had a glass or two…''

''Or almost an entire bottle?''

He looked up at her for a minute before shaking his head and picking himself up. She quickly grabbed his arm as he began to fall backwards into the corridor. He fell forward and slumped in her arms. Rolling her eyes, she stood him up again and rested her hands on his shoulders.

''To bed with you.''

''Ooh, Mina, I had no idea…'' he said cheekily, grinning at her. She tutted and began to guide him out into the corridor.

''I couldn't find my room…'' He said, almost sounding upset. Even though the lady vampire thought he was a disorderly man who liked to cause trouble, she just couldn't help but find his comment adorable. Sympathetically she patted his back.

''I'll help you find it.''

''Cheers…oh, where's me bottle?''

''You finished it.'' She lied, walking him down to his room. He shrugged and mumbled something about the bottle while she opened the door for him. Skinner collapsed onto his bed and groaned a little.

''How can you be getting drunk at a time like this anyway?'' she scolded, watching him turn over to face her. He shook his head, wiping paint on the bed sheets.

''I was bored…''

Shaking her head, she looked at the clock on the table. It was only 12 o'clock in the afternoon and he was completely out of it. The thief waved her off as she opened the door.

''Go to sleep, Rodney.'' She said kindly as he removed his hat and began rubbing his head. He nodded a little and put his head down again, sighing loudly. Mina closed the door on him and returned to her own room. She may have found him annoying most of the time, but still she had affection for him. However, she still hadn't forgiven him for grabbing her when they were in Mongolia.

Later that evening, Rodney Skinner woke with a terrible headache. He groaned loudly and thrust his pillow from the bed as though it had been the thing causing his pain. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat still for a time, trying to remember what he'd been drinking.

''Whisky…Ugh…I won't be touching that for a while…I'll stick to beer.'' He reassured himself, carefully making his way into the small bathroom. The wash basin was still full of water. Nice, cold, refreshing water…He splashed some over his face and neck, washing off what was left of his paint. Skinner then rummaged in his pocket looking his little compact so he could apply some more. 'We better reach dry land soon...' he mused to himself, 'I'm sick of this bloody tin ship...'

To Be continued….