Disclaimer: I wrote this as a first time Fanfic. I do not own any of these charactors, nor am I making any money off them. Any misspellings and mistakes are mine. Sorry.











What The Mind Needs



Jules Verne was sitting in the rose garden of Shillingworth Magna. The sun was warm and gentle as it set and he was engrossed in his drawing. He had a new idea that was growing in his head. A way to water Passepartout's roses when ever he wasn't here. As he drew Phileas Fogg stood in the doorway watching him. Dinner was on the table but he wasn't about to interrupt Jules and his writing, or drawing. It was so hard to tell what exactly he was doing in his notebook. As he watched Jules drawing a slight warmth came over him. This is how he should always be. Happy and safe, letting his ideas grow. thought Phileas. As he turned to go tell Passepartout and Rebecca that Verne might be a bit late, Jules jumped up and hurried over.


"I'm coming Fogg, sorry but th most wonderful idea hit me as I was writing for my play and I wanted to draw it out."


"I do wish you'd be more considerate of the fact that we were going to have to wait for you Verne." Came Phileas' normal and cool headed reply.


Jules nodded and followed looking at his book. "I'm sorry it won't happen again"


Phileas nodded and had a seat at the table where Rebecca was sitting and trying not to smile as Jules had a seat as well. Jules seemed in a lot of thought recently. Even if he was drawing or writing, other things seemed to play his mind that neither Phileas nor Rebecca, nor even Passepartout seemed able to get him to release.


After dinner, Jules retired politely to the guest room he was staying at and Phileas sat in the lounge reading a book sipping a brandy while Rebecca sat nearby reading a brief for a mission she would takeing soon.


"We may have to drop Jules off in Paris as this time I'll be going to Spain.", spoke Rebecca.


Phileas let his book fall slightly and raised a half interested brow. "And why, dear cousin are you to be going to Spain in the middle of March?"


"It's quite simple really, I'm to steal back a very important parchment that Great Britain and Spain have been fighting over for a long time. If this parchment were to be in British hands, the queen would be able to negotiate with Scotland."


Phileas sipped his brandy and shook his head. "They're only playing with you Rebecca, they could send any of their other agents on that type of a mission."


"I know Phileas but I would rather like to do this as it would be an excuse to send Jules home. Not that I don't like having him as I'm sure you don't, but he seems preoccupied and might need to return home for some rest from our fancey life stye."



Phileas sighs and thought this over. It was true he did like having Verne here. He could keep an eye on him and Verne could relax and work. But he also felt something was wrong with Verne, as if he felt he was relying too much on his british friends hospitality.


If Fogg had known how right he was he would have predicted what Jules was up to. Upstairs he was paceing and paceing trying to think of the next line of his play. And if not that, then to wear himself into exhaustion. The first few days here he had been able to think so freely. The thoughts poured from his head so fast, he could barely sketch or write them down fast enough. But now, he couldn't even think straight. His mind was blurry from who knows what and he did feel very much like he was imposeing upon his friends for letting him stay here.


As he paced and tried to think, Rebecca had come upstairs and gently opened his door. She watched sadly as Jules tried to write only to crumple it up and go back to paceing. Yes, she thought, It is time for you to go home Jules.