Disclaimer: no own-y no sue-y

Continuum Notes: Broad Arrow Jack shows up in the book for two panels, and came from a penny dreadful. I'm borrowing the character and giving him character (how much can you tell out of two panels?) so here he's about twenty-four or -five, and hasn't been married to anyone (in the penny dreadful he was married to an aristocrat).

~Sawyer~

            Sawyer found something to do when they submerged again. Reading was too boring and his guns could only be cleaned so many times, but under the main workings where they had kept the car until he'd…trashed it, he found something.

            Someone.

            This was the one crewmember closest to his in age, but no one said he looked like a boy. He carried himself like nothing could touch him. Sawyer had never heard him speak before. He usually wandered around shirtless, displaying a black arrow head on his back, but today he wore a long-sleeved v-neck shirt, like an English fisherman. Now he was sorting through white roses, clipping off the thorns.

            "Can I sit here?" Sawyer asked. The man nodded and continued a deft clip clip clip.

            Sawyer picked up the other shears and began clipping a few. "I'm Tom Sawyer," he said.

            "I know," the man said. After a pause, he added, "I'm Jack. Broad Arrow Jack."

            Yeah, with the tattoo and all, Sawyer thought, then realized that Jack dressed English because he was English. He said as much.

            "Of course I am," Jack sneered. Tom set his jaw. Well, now he thinks I ain't worth my weight in horse crap –

            Jack sighed, "What about this Huck of yours?"

            "Excuse me?" Tom's hand slipped and he almost nicked his thumb.

            Jack sighed as though he couldn't be bothered, "I'm afraid I didn't get to hear your story. I was curious, as my shipmates seemed greatly entertained by it."

            "Oh," Tom grinned, "You really want to hear it?"

            Jack huffed, "I would not ask if I was not sure."

            "Touchy!" Jack stopped to glare at him and Tom grinned wider, "Okay! So my Aunt Polly would cool her pies on the windowsill and Huck and me would steal them – "

            "Is that all?"

            "No! Look, ya wanna hear it or not?"

            Jack clipped silently.

            "Why're we doin' this anyway?"

            "Someone has to."

            "Real flowers?"

            "The captain prefers a touch of civilization even when we are not near it."

            "Uh-huh. Anyways, the pies were so hot that we would grab one and toss it back and forth while gettin' away, but it only worked for so long. Pretty soon Aunt Polly caught on so she started putting them on the second story windowsill.

            "I tried to go after it once, but my half-brother tattled on me 'cause I had to carry it through the house. And I burned my hands." One side of Jack's mouth curled up unnoticed by its owner. But Tom saw it. Encouraged, he kept going.

            "So then we figured we had to take it from the outside, and be clever about it. We built a stick with a pulley so that I would loop the rope around the pie and Huck would raise it up, move it over the grass, then lower it gently," Tom said, gesturing with his hands.

            "I looped the rope around the pie alright, but Huck pulled it up way too fast. The pie went up and over, and flew out of the rope, then smashed on the ground! Plan A down." He tossed his last rose on the 'done' pile and grabbed another handful, minding the thorns.

            "Then, onto Plan B. We would put a board between the window and the tree right outside. This time, I sat in the tree and Huck climbed the trellis. He slid the pie down the board to me, and he said if I'd a been watchin' the pie instead of Becky Thatcher, I'd a caught it."

            Jack smiled, ready to laugh, "So, Plan B down?"

            "Yup. Then Plan C!" He threw out his arms and now Jack laughed.

            "Plan C, we stopped bein' so clever. We, er, 'borrowed' a ladder and I climbed up and jus' grabbed the thing! It burned my hands, again, and I tripped, wouldn't ya know it? The pie flies out of my hands, flies over Huck's head, and miraculously lands upright behind him! But, he thought I was gonna fall off the roof into him, so he took a step backwards – "

            Jack winced sympathetically, "Ouch."

            "Yeah. Plan C down. Plan D was really a variation of C, and woulda worked if it hadn't rained.

            "We both climbed up the ladder this time so we wouldn't burn our hands, ya know, toss it back and forth like before, right?" Jack nodded. "Then I would go partway down the ladder, he'd hand the pie down, jump off, and I'd toss it down to him. Foolproof, see?

            "Well, I tossed it to Huck, but he dropped it, then tried to grab it before it slid off the roof. He slipped and went right after it but not before knockin' me down. Then I had the brilliant idea to grab ahold of the ladder, which wasn't exactly bolted down…So down goes the pie," he clapped, "down goes Huck, down goes Tom, down goes the ladder." He clapped after each 'down goes,' for emphasis while Jack chuckled. Not a belly laugher, that one.

            He smiled, "I guess we coulda waited for the church picnic, but then we'd a had to share with everyone else."

            "So instead you cause harm to yourself and innumerable pies," Jack said, grinning. Kind of smirking, but you felt he didn't have a lot of practice smiling.

            "Yeah, well. The adventure was the whole reason for livin' back then."

            "And now?"

            "You got me."

            "The adventure," they chorused, and laughed.

            "So, hey, how about it?" Tom said.

            "How about what?" Jack began to straighten the roses into bundles.

            "How about the story?"

            "Oh, it was a good story. Hope you've grown up a bit," Jack twisted a corner of his mouth at Tom.

            "Well, a little. I mean, I told a story, now it's your turn."

            "Oh…I don't know any good stories."

            "C'mon! Just – " he looked around for inspiration though every corner was deep in shadow, the only light was above them and the crates they sat on.

            "How'd you come here?"

            "What?" Jack looked up, startled.

            "What's your life story?"

            "Are you really curious or just that bored?"

            "Mostly I'm bored," Tom admitted.

            Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I got into trouble when I was seventeen or so. Well, I was always getting into trouble, not the funny kind," he looked over to Tom, "but a bad kind. This time they gave me," here he shrugged his shoulders like he had an itch at the back of his neck. "They turned me from Jack to Broad Arrow Jack."

            "Yeah," Tom said, nodding.

            "So they sent me to the colony down south, mm, Australia. There I was picked up by the Nautilus, recruited when the crew was depleted, like we'll have to do again in New York, I suppose."

            "Uh-huh."

            "Here I met Ishmael. He is – was the closest thing to a father I've known." Jack stopped and so did Tom.

            Tom held the shears poised over one thorn. "I guess I'm not the only one feeling it, huh?"

            Jack shook his head, mouthed 'no'.

            "So it hurts, losin' something that never belonged to ya," he said.

            Jack laughed, bitter, "Yes. Something like that."

            After a few moments of silence Jack asked, "So are you excited about New York?"

            "Why is everyone askin' me that?"

            Jack quirked an eyebrow.

            Tom clarified, "Yesterday, the doc asked me if I was excited."

            "Oh. It's," Jack shrugged, "the only thing to ask. What else is there to say?" Tom nodded. Jack asked again, "Are you excited?"

            "No."

            "What do you mean?"

            "I mean I'm not," he sighed, "Sure, I'll get to see Aunt Polly again, Lord knows that'll be exciting," he rolled his eyes, "But I'll get to see some people I'd rather not."

            "Like who?"

            "Like Huck for one."

            Jack scooped the thorns into a pile and put them into a sack for disposal.

            "Huck your friend?"

            "Was." Jack looked at him, waiting for more.

            "See, Huck was my friend, Becky was my girl. Was," he chewed his lower lip, looking past Jack to phrase it best. "When I went off to be a secret agent, actually just a US Marshal, the secret agent came when they decided I had talents best suited elsewhere – anyways, Huck and Becky got close when I left. They, uh, got married three months after I left."

            "Mm."

            "Yeah. So, I tell 'em no hard feelings, just keep the hell away from me. 'S not like I was gonna marry her or anything, just – "

            "Felt like he stabbed you in the back."

            "Yeah. Ain't there a saying somewhere, a true friend stabs you in the front?" He twisted his lips cruelly and Jack mirrored his look.

            "If it ever comes down to it, Tom Sawyer, I will stab you in the front."

            "Aw, thanks, Jack." They packed the roses into vases then wandered the ship settling them on end tables, and replacing one table in the room Skinner had trashed. Sawyer saw he really did a number on it, thought he could ask what's wrong, but he knew how that exchange would go. Better to just let it go.

Author's Notes-

Okay, seriously. Last update for a week or a bit. Review – Lots happens when they hit New York (like the mystery part of the plot, for example).