Disclaimer: Not mine. The concept goes to America's Best Comics and Alan Moore and Fox 20th cent., the characters come from their classics. I don't make any money off this, and as a starving student, neither will you if you sue me.

            "Someone ought to have a chat wid Jekyll," Skinner announced as he watched the doctor leave. Mina raised an eyebrow and dabbed her lips with her napkin, delicately.

            "And why is that?" she asked.

            "Bloke's bloody miserable!" he exploded, "Someone should see why."

            "Has he been like this for long?"

            "No, jus' a couple of days."

            Well, isn't this an eye-opener. Rodney Skinner watches Jekyll enough to decide if he's feeling poorly. Mina decided this bore further investigation…So lost in thought was she that when Nemo spoke over her shoulder, it almost surprised her.

            "Maybe you should ask him what's wrong," Nemo said, "After all, you know him best." Something in Nemo's eyes glittered, reminded Skinner of a tiger he'd seen at the Carnival as a boy. It didn't spook him, just told him be wary, like Quartermain.

            He swallowed, "How d'you figure that?"

            Ah! His injuries, the good doctor, of course! Mina smirked victoriously, "You spent the most time with him, while you were recuperating." Jekyll had said Hyde could see Skinner, so he could see the injuries. The doctor's company was a welcome respite from four sterile walls, as Skinner was unable to move for a week. And Skinner had some honor, here and there…

            "So I should jolly well march up to him and ask, 'Wot's up, doc?'" Mina frowned at his cavalier tone, and disapproval was visible in every line on her loverly face. The message, though, was clear. Jekyll helped him, he should help Jekyll.

            Rodney Skinner was a man who paid his bets, occasionally. When the mood struck him.

            "Yew didn't come all this way to chat about a chap with a complex, did you?" he pointed an accusatory finger at Nemo, although the gesture was moot without gloves.

            "I came to tell you that we will not be surfacing today as the weather is too rough. We will have some time for fresh air tomorrow if the storm dissipates accordingly."

            "Thank you, captain," Mina smiled, a lot nicer than she ever smiled at Skinner.

            Something there? Maybe. Skinner thought at first there may have been something with the doctor and Nemo, the doctor being a tad limp and Nemo all manly and such, but he'd yet to gather any hard evidence. He could talk to Jekyll today with nothing better to do, or – he could spy around and in general make a nuisance of himself. He watched Mina rise and follow Nemo with a seductive sway in her hips.

            He could talk to Jekyll tomorrow.

            The telegram came after dinner but did not reach Skinner until midmorning the next day. All through breakfast, he'd watched Jekyll pick at the decorative greens, not eating anything and occasionally muttering to himself, to Hyde.

            Skinner chewed carefully, nursing an aching jaw where Nemo had clipped him with a lucky shot. He was in a sour mood for getting caught, not discovering anything interesting – they'd just chattered on about plans after New York. Mina expressed some interest in New Orleans due to a distant branch of family she hadn't seen for some time, blah, blah, blah, but something about her condition and then Nemo got him.

            The telegram made it all worse.

            Jekyll heard a scream, a wordless yell from one of the miscellaneous meeting rooms. Indians that passed by would glance in, then quicken their step away. Jekyll walked toward it, slowly drawn in. He saw Skinner in trenchcoat and facepaint throwing some sort of tantrum.

            Hyde laughed in his head. Oh, this is beautiful!

            Skinner picked up a decorative end table, spilling the vase of white flowers to the floor. Jekyll noticed some water splatter as the ceramic shattered, which surprised him. He'd always assumed the white flowers were fake. An example of Nemo's decadence.

            Skinner clutched the furniture, flexed his fingers then tightened his grip. He yelled again as he smashed it against the floor over and over until all he held were splinters, then shed them. He reached down to pick up a piece of paper at his side that Jekyll assumed was the source of his rage. Skinner read the sheet again, then sank to the floor staring at the far wall. He breathed steadily through his nose, pressed an arm over his mouth and stilled. Jekyll watched him out of one eye, half his face and body obscured by the doorframe.

            He could remember an earlier time he had done this, barely a month ago, saw Gray and Mina together. Made your blood pump, too, Hyde said, watching him from a porthole, Maybe there's hope for you yet, Henry.

            "Leave me alone," Jekyll whispered.

            Topside, Sawyer was doing target practice. Jekyll watched him aim, then stand absolutely stock-still, waiting. Then he fired and the balloon exploded into red rubber pieces.

            "Are you excited?" where did that come from? You don't think, Henry, Hyde sneered, That's why I'm here in the first place.

            Bugger off, Edward.

            "'Bout what?" Sawyer asked. Jekyll almost expected him to chew on a toothpick. No, hay would fit, some country, boyish innocence. Don't you have any standards

            "Shut up!" he snapped.

            "What? Hey, you okay?"

            "Fine, I- it's Hyde. That's all," Jekyll cleared his throat, "I meant about New York, home."

            "Ah, hey. Home for me has been and always will be the Mississip. New York's all right."

            "But you'd rather go home home."

            "Yeah."

            "See your family?"

            "Huh, they'll probably be inland. Though, knowin' my Aunt Polly she'll find some way to meet with me. Make sure I'm keepin' out of trouble," Sawyer grinned at him and Jekyll noticed how the sun make his hair lighter on top.

            "H-how does she feel about you being a secret agent?"

            "Oh, it scares her, I guess. Growin' up, she just wanted me safe. But she wanted me to be able to do what I want, jus' safely," he rolled his eyes, "Women."

            After a short pause he added, "The real turning point was when my best pal Huck signed up to be a copper. She figured we were both gonna make the world a better place, and I can't hide behind her apron forever, y'know? So she backed off. Wrote every week I was in training and sent cookies every other. Man, I never lived that one down."

            Jekyll smiled with him. "How nice she cares about you that much," he said. They both stood in silence in contemplation for a few minutes.

            "Yeah, I'm excited," Sawyer said. But he didn't look it. He stared out while the Indian stood by patiently, another balloon loaded and ready to go. Trepidation, that's it. Jekyll could see a waiting dread in the way Sawyer held himself and the way his mouth was set. His lips – You disgusting poof.

            Leave me alone, Hyde!

            …I didn't say that. And there was real concern in Edward's voice.

And real fear chilled Jekyll beneath the sun.

Author's Notes:

Thanks for the reviews! They really mean a lot.

I'll be out of town for a couple weeks, maybe update between there, but when I get back in, I'll update a lot.

Hey, how's this for cliffhangers? Who's the third voice in Jekyll's head? Who's the dreamlover? What mystery awaits them in South America? (Actually I may need some help with that. If anyone has an idea, let me know. Thanks!)

Until next time -