A/N: Okay, guys, test time... can ANYONE tell me the word Quatermain and Tom used to call for another target on the deck of the Nautilus? Whoever gives the answer has my deepest gratitude, and they get a cookie of their choice. First of many thanks to fellow author and friend ikhan11 for his factual help with this fiction. In this case it happens to be in relation to food and drink ;) You'll see... Anyway, if you like my writing, you may be interested in his. Feel free to check it out... I'd also like to thank everyone who has been supportive about the previously mentioned and featured deleted scene information. I was really wary about doing it, but had to show the softer side of poor Tom... we all know he has one :) I can't believe they cut that... Grrr... I bet that would have been a wonderfully acted scene. Anyway, back to the story.
Rodney Skinner was, by all meanings of the word, late for the dinner, and he took his place at the table quietly, throwing an apologetic expression Nemo's way before realising he was not last to arrive.
There were two empty settings on the other side of the long table, to the right of Jekyll, and Skinner immediately recognised who they belonged to. Tom and Anise, the rather fetching French girl. He pondered over their whereabouts; before he noticed with relief the food had not been served yet. Nemo was clearly waiting for all to be present and correct.
Mina sat to the left of Skinner, muttering quietly under her breath. He couldn't make out her words, as he pulled the collar at the back of his leather coat up to hide the rear of his head, or rather lack thereof. He knew it to be not so pleasant for other dinner guests when they saw the food go in and down. That was another reason why he covered his face and eyes at mealtimes. It was what he considered polite.
Jekyll, across the table opposite Skinner, tidied and rearranged his cutlery items almost rhythmically. He shifted them a fraction, and then a little more. He observed them for a moment, before moving them once again.
Nemo sat, as usual, at the head of the exquisite table, and waited, hands knitted together neatly before him, perched on the edge of the wood. His dark eyes stared straight ahead, but Skinner liked to think he knew him well enough to know that he was growing steadily more impatient.
Mina fussed over her napkin, and neatened the cuffs on her blouse, looking quietly around the room she had made herself comfortable in dozens of times. How did she manage to look so enchanting all the time? But then Skinner supposed it was impossible for the vampire to look anything less, and he shut such ponderings out of his mind.
That was when he heard the running from down the hall outside the doors, just before they burst open, and Tom Sawyer himself almost tumbled through them, shortly before Anise Delacroix came practically running into him from behind. Both looked a little embarrassed, and Sawyer himself -his hair more than anything, not that it was unusual- appeared quite unkempt.
Sawyer cleared his throat quietly, and walked up to his seat, neatening his black waistcoat as he did so. "Sorry we're late. Um... lost track of time, I guess."
Anise sat to his right, whereas Sawyer took his usual seat opposite Mina, who eyed him with a certain expression of... was that distaste? Skinner wasn't sure, and he didn't like to dwell, so he turned to Nemo, "So, what have you got in store for us tonight? Something delightful and... interesting no doubt."
"No one is forcing you to eat the food I serve, Mr Skinner," Nemo informed him in his usual aloof manner.
"All righty then," Skinner muttered, realising he had hit a sensitive spot.
Nemo called through his 'waiters' and the meals were placed before them. Sawyer for one, looked more enthusiastic this evening, but there was still a mysterious air of melancholy about him that Skinner couldn't place.
Skinner looked down at his plate, which was filled with rice and some sort of fish. There was no wine tonight, instead some sort of hot drink, although Skinner wasn't sure why. It wasn't exactly cold. He picked up his beverage, and looked quizzically to Nemo.
The man smiled, lifting his own cup, and said, "Brown tea. I thought it would make a nice change of pace."
Skinner noticed then that his small cup had no handle on it, and he raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off, being open-minded and drank some. It was actually surprisingly good. Quite refreshing too.
They settled into their meal without much conversation. Sawyer had to explain the dish to Anise, which Skinner thought was unusual... but then, he supposed, she was French. She hadn't been onboard long, and wouldn't understand Nemo's fondness of his country's traditional foods, which he insisted on the rest of the League eating almost daily.
Skinner got a little sick of it sometimes, all the curries and fish and rice, but on other occassions, he reasoned it was nice to have a bit of culture. It made a pleasant change to what he had been used to back in London.
The meal finished after some time, and everyone appeared to have had his or her fill. They were all on their third of fourth small cup of brown tea. All seemed to like it at least, which Skinner supposed must have made Nemo happy.
"So, gentlemen," Nemo began, and Skinner immediately mused over whether the man had intended this as a witticism. He supposed not, and listened as the captain continued, "We must discuss our strategy for our next encounter with Mr Evans."
"First things first, Captain," Mina interjected with enthusiasm, "we must ask our guest what she plans to do next." She turned her attention on the stranger to the table. Skinner only just noticed her chair was closer to Sawyer's than it had been placed. Had she shuffled?
"So, Miss Delacroix," Mina asked of her, "what is it that you are intending to do next? Return to the city?"
Anise and Sawyer exchanged brief glances. Sawyer drank some of his tea quietly. Anise spoke back to Mina with respect and caution; "Tom and I have been discussing..." she trailed off at Mina's raising of an eyebrow. Skinner watched the two women, even as the younger persisted, "I was wondering if I could accompany you. I am, after all, interested in the same thing as you. Evans and his men have plagued France long enough, and I intend to put a stop to them."
Jekyll peered down the table with interest, and nodded slowly and subtlely at the young woman's sincerity and apparent dedication.
There was a long silence that descended upon the table.
"Well?" Sawyer asked of his companions, "What about it?"
Nemo and Skinner and Jekyll looked to one another in turn, before all three turned their gazes and inquiring looks upon Mina, who saw them do so. She raised her eyebrows. Her face turned to Sawyer's, and she sighed.
"I see nothing wrong with allowing her to join us. Are we in agreement?" Mina asked of the three gentlemen. They all knew Sawyer's opinion already.
Nemo nodded once. Skinner shrugged and offered a cheery, "I don't see why not."
Jekyll smiled. "Of course."
Skinner thought for one moment that the doctor was going to add 'the more the merrier', but luckily he did not. Skinner wouldn't have been able to stop his laugh if he had. He wasn't entirely sure why. The phrase always struck him as humorous.
Sawyer smiled happily, and Anise looked genuinely pleased. In fact, the two looked relieved more than anything. Skinner suddenly thought he understood why. He couldn't believe how dense he had been before. He hid his smile behind his cup.
"So back to the matter of tactics," Nemo continued from his earlier point.
Nemo stood in what he considered to be the very brain of Nautilus, on the bridge, his loyal crew all around him as they cut through the waves on their way to America. His newly appointed first mate stood at the forefront of the room, giving quiet orders to the men around him.
Nemo could very clearly make out the words, and approved of them inwardly. The man was doing well. Of course, the captain deeply missed his old friend, Ishmael, and with a great swell of satisfaction remembered that the murderer had been destroyed... quite literally, or so went his understanding.
He did not like to dwell on such matters, and so turned his attention back on the map he had been surveying and charting. At this rate, the Nautilus would be within sight of New York in a little over two days.
How he loved this magnificent vessel of his... she was truly a blessing. Of course, he had been particularly fond of another of his inventions, but it had perished not long ago. Not without need of course, for had it not been destroyed then Venice would no longer exist.
Pushing his mind along from reminiscing, Captain Nemo turned his dark eyes back on his map, and smiled discreetly.