Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine yadayadayada.
Traveling Home
A Missing Scene from "The Travelers"
By Colorado
The walk back to the treehouse was a quiet one. Veronica sure-footedly led the way, followed by Challenger and Marguerite with Roxton bringing up the rear. The sun drifted in and out behind lazy gray clouds, filtering through the canopy of leaves and creating a dappled effect on the jungle path. Veronica stepped over the pattern, her thoughts reaching back in time to a similar afternoon when she and Malone were out walking. She missed him—everything about him. It was a different type of hurt from the ache she felt for her parents. She knew they loved her and was confident they knew she loved them. But she had never told Ned how she felt. Veronica quickened her pace. He's still alive whispered over and over again in her mind like a mantra.
Challenger cocked his head to one side, then the other. Their recent fight to retrieve Marguerite had left him sore and stiff. Still, in meeting the trickster god, he had unearthed another of the plateau's many mysteries. And that portal—had it really led to their London or to another dimension? Was Malone in another dimension? He furrowed his brow and nearly tripped over a protruding root.
The sun had quickly dried Marguerite's hair and clothing, but she was still chilled. She had been in threatening situations before, but never had come as close to death as she had that morning. As Locke forced her head under the water, her lungs burned and white-hot spots had flashed before her eyes. Not like this, she had thought, it can't end like this. Images whirled in her brain; she remembered seeing Roxton's face as she passed out. When she awoke, she was on the ground near the pool, alive. Groggily she had sat up, trying to remember what had happened. Then she heard fighting and Roxton's voice. Without a thought, she jumped to her feet and grabbed a rifle. Yes, she had survived this time, but only because of John.
"Here, put this on," said Roxton, handing her his coat. She smiled in thanks and slipped it around her shoulders.
Roxton followed her step for step, keeping a sharp eye out for any dangers. He had nearly lost her that day and was terribly rattled. Not that he would show her, however. The way she flew out of his embrace to chase after her jewels…well, that had cut to the quick. The woman's words and actions didn't always match, he considered grimly, even though he had the piece of paper on which she had written "Lady Marguerite Roxton" safely tucked away in his breast pocket.
They found the treehouse much as they had left it. Marguerite observed the flour poured out on the table and the pool of water that had been a block of ice.
But they hadn't checked the plant in her room. She smiled silently.
Veronica gazed at Malone's message, still visible on the table. She didn't know how he had done it or where he was, but she knew he was out there. Challenger placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him, Veronica," he said with a voice full of confidence.
"I see you left no stone unturned," Marguerite observed.
"We were try to pay the ransom to save your life, Marguerite," Roxton said sarcastically. "Some of us value people over bobbles."
Marguerite pulled his coat tighter around her shoulders. "I'll have you know, John, that what you gave that bandit was two-year's worth of work. Down the drain," she said sharply.
"We thought you were going to be killed," Challenger said reproachfully.
"I had it all under control…until the end," she replied.
"Really? And why did you ride off with those thieves just as we were approaching the camp? What had they offered you?" Veronica accused.
Marguerite stared at the young blonde with genuine hurt in her eyes. "Veronica! The only reason I left with them was to lead them away from you! They knew you were coming and were planning an ambush. I had to do something to make them leave right then. I had no intention of ever running off with them!"
Veronica began to speak, but reconsidered.
"Really Marguerite? Their offers of treasure and immortality meant nothing to you?" Roxton said, not looking at her.
"I knew from the first night that they were dangerous men, not to be trusted. How foolish do you think I am? Do you honestly think I'd run off and leave you behind?" she demanded looking from one to the other. When no one responded, she turned and went to her room.
Hot tears pricked her eyes. Hadn't she proved herself by now? Would they always think the worst of her?
"Marguerite," John's voice, as soft as a whisper, was behind her right shoulder.
"Go away, Roxton."
"Marguerite, I didn't think you'd betray us. But, damn it, you do things that make me think…"
"What? What do you think, Roxton?" she whirled around. "That I'm heartless? Uncaring?"
"No. That you hold your treasure dearer to your heart than…than anything else."
"My treasure is gone, thanks to you," Marguerite snapped
"Well, maybe they'll be room for something else now," he said roughly and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her on the mouth with an intensity that conveyed everything he had felt in the past 24 hours. She tried to push him away, then found herself responding with an equal passion. Finally, she broke away.
"I care for other things besides wealth," she said.
"Is that so?"
"You know it is, John," she said softly.
"Miss Krux, I believe you mean that," Roxton gave her a crooked smile and patted his pocket as he left.
