Title: Unexpected Danger

Author: Angel LeeAnn

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Marguerite, while mysteriously ill, finds herself in a perilous situation.

Disclaimer:  These wonderful characters – sadly – don't belong to me.  However, they are in the good hands of 'The Over Hill Gang' and were originally created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter One

Sickness Strikes

Twittering on the edge of her mattress, her stomach churned harshly and bile rose up her throat, but she swallowed the acidic fluid down determined to not throw up.  Waiting till she felt secure enough, Marguerite finally climbed to her weak feet.  She was dizzy and her head split in two, but she managed to stagger out of her room and make her way cautiously to the kitchen table.  Flopping down on a chair, she was frustrated to find herself out of breath.  She had hoped that her nap would chase the flu bug away, but she was feeling worse.

Professor George Challenger glanced up from his soup and frowned at the dark haired heiress, his brows creasing with concern.  "Are you all right, child?  You look pale."  He reached across the tabletop and placed his hand over her forehead.  "No sign of a fever, but that doesn't mean you aren't coming down with something."

Marguerite Krux swatted his pestering hand away and groaned.  "I feel wretched."  She propped her head up with the palm of her hand.  A couple weeks ago, she had felt the onslaught of the flu begin, but it was bearable.  Today she felt ready to jump off a cliff.  "Where are the others?"

The older man beamed, excitement glittering in his eyes.  "I sent them out to gather an extraordinary specimen for me.  I believe it may be the equivalent of a headache reducer.  After some experiments, maybe it'll be good enough to use for your illness.  I saw it on one of our scooting excursions, but didn't have a container to bring it back with."

Marguerite leapt from her chair, startling her companion, and raced to the balcony where she thrust her head over the railing.  The sour, burning vomit erupted from her mouth and splattered on the branches below before dripping in clumps to the forest floor.  After heaving up every last piece of breakfast, she crumbled to the ground, pressing her cheek against a post.

Challenger was kneeling beside her, gently placing his hand on her quivering shoulder.  "My God, Marguerite, are you all right?"  He carefully helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her slim waist.  "Let's get you to your room, young lady."  He guided her back to her bed.

After settling her in, he quietly rummaged through the cabinets for herbs.  He didn't even glance up when he heard the others come off the elevator, returning from their journey.  "Marguerite's very ill.  I suggest we ask the Zanga for a remedy as soon as possible.  If we were back in England, I wouldn't fear it as much, but out here…in this jungle…becoming ill could sign your death warrant."

"What's wrong with her," Roxton demanded in a soft voice.

Challenger smashed some purple seeds.  "She left a lovely gift for the animals over the railing.  She must've emptied everything from her stomach."  He sprinkled the powder into the bowl and handed it to Roxton.  "I want you to give her this.  Make sure she eats every drop."

Roxton accepted the bowl and hastily wandered into Marguerite's room.  He could hear Challenger giving Veronica and Malone orders to retrieve a medicine man.  What he wasn't prepared for was the pale, trembling, and sweaty woman lying helplessly on the bed.  She peered up at him through heavy, glazed eyes and grimaced.  "Don't tell me I'm going to have to eat that."

Roxton chuckled.  "Sorry, Marguerite, but it's the doctor's orders."  He perched him self delicately on the edge of the bed.  He eyed her oddly.  "You look dreadful, Marguerite."  He caressed her cool face with the palm of his hand.  "Mm, no fever.  You didn't eat any unfamiliar berries, did you?  This could be food poisoning."

"I'm not stupid, Roxton." She snatched the bowl from him roughly.  "I take that back.  I've done a couple stupid things while here, but I plan on preventing such foolishness in the future.  Believe it or not, I learn from my mistakes."  Her outburst wore her out and she leaned back into her pillow.  In a small voice she requested, "Please, leave me alone.  You're making me feel worse."

Roxton clenched his teeth and nearly stormed from the room.  She's always having mood swings.  Three years of her constant bitchiness is enough.  What the hell does she want from us…from me?  Yet, even as he thought it, he knew he would continue putting up with her mood swings if it meant keeping her safely with him.

End Chapter One

Do I have your attention, yet?  If not, I promise (hope) it's getting better.