Disclaimer: The characters from "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" are owned by Telescene, NewLine Television, The Over the Hill Gang, Coote/Hayes, etc.  No profit is being made from this story.  No infringement upon copyrighted material is intended.

Setting: Within The Knife

Spoilers: The Knife and Travelers

Description: A ficlet that provides a missing scene for The Knife.  Just after Roxton and Marguerite's argument.

Thanks: To CMS, who as always gives us her input and keeps us on the straight and narrow.

Reconciliation 
by rann and Ariadne

Roxton stood uncharacteristically irresolute on the path.  Several yards behind him he was aware of Marguerite setting down her pack.  The Scotland Yard Inspector had disappeared among the trees, searching for sufficiently dry, dead wood to build the fire.

His rage with Marguerite was dissipating, although a core of anger remained for allowing Anderson to make up to her.  Her eyes had widened in shock when he accused her of fawning over the Inspector.  But no matter how angry he was at her, he knew he wasn't going to leave her alone.  The near disaster with Omac had ensured that.

If he were entirely honest with himself, it wasn't Marguerite he was angry with so much as the Inspector.  All those stories about his travels searching for Jack the Ripper, those boasts about how hard he was working to find the killer through the many years, yammering on endlessly trying to impress the beautiful woman walking with him.  There was something not quite right about the man; Roxton could feel it in his bones.  Dratted woman for making up to him, just because she thought he might know a way off the plateau!  Would she never learn not to trust strangers?  He firmly clamped down the thought of the times he himself had been misled by a trophy hunter or seduced by a mistress of voodoo.

Marguerite felt her fury being replaced by exhaustion as she knelt, looking through her pack for supplies to get them through the evening.  One part of her was aware of Roxton still standing further down the trail, although she refused to look up and acknowledge his presence. Surely Roxton knew her well enough by now that he could trust her when she was with another man, knew that she was only using the weapons she was most comfortable with.  She still had trouble accepting how protective he could be.  Since the events in Askwith's time loop where she had 'died', Roxton had become even more vigilant. 

She turned as she kneeled to lay some tea on the side for the evening, and saw a pair of boots in her line of vision.  He'd made the first move to heal the breech.  Silently she reached her hand up.  He took it, drawing her to her feet.  She looked into his eyes, somewhat taken aback to find there a need for reassurance of her affections.  Surprised, she placed her hand on his cheek.  Had he really thought that she was attracted to Anderson?  Did he know her so little after all this time?  Distrust her so much? 

As she continued to look at him, she could see in his eyes that he was afraid he had pushed her away again with his impulsive anger.  Unable to deny him the assurance he craved, she closed the slight distance between them with a small step and stretched slightly to press her lips to his.  He bent his head to accommodate her, his breath washing over her face as he exhaled his relief.

His arms tugged her tight against his chest, as he deepened the kiss.  One of her hands slipped behind his neck, the other rested on his shoulder needing his strength to maintain her balance.  This was what they meant to each other, how they needed each other.  It was time to let go of the anger and hurt.

She stepped away from him, aware that the Inspector could return at any time.  She let her hand stroke his cheek and was rewarded with a slight smile.  His hand returned the caress.

"You look tired.  Did our day at the beach wear you out?"  His eyes searched her face with concern.  Now that he was past his anger, he was noticing her weariness. 

Marguerite smiled in turn, Lord Roxton was once again in full protective mode.   "A little, but I'd be willing to try it again."  She now wished they didn't have Anderson around.  It would have been nice to sleep in John's arms.  He usually found an excuse for them to do so when they were out alone.

"You rest tonight, it'll be an easy walk to the treehouse in the morning."  Roxton shrugged off his pack.  He pulled a blanket out for her to use.  "And tonight," he thought to himself,  "when you fall asleep, I'll make damn sure Anderson bloody well knows to keep his distance."

In the fading light they continued setting up camp in what had become their accustomed routine. 

At the edge of the woods, Anderson stopped and his face twisted at the sight of Roxton arranging stones for a fire ring.  Marguerite was getting supplies out for the evening.  The pair exchanged a smile.  It was obvious no simple quarrel would separate those two.  He nodded to himself as he felt the vial in his pocket.  His lordship could be dealt with and then he'd have his lovely victim all to himself.  He rearranged his expression to one more pleasant.

Looking up Roxton saw the Scotland Yard Inspector returning with the firewood.  Roxton could afford to be pleasant to him now; he once again had reaffirmed where Marguerite's affections lay.  Still he'd have a word with Anderson later, let him know that Marguerite's friendliness did not mean he could take liberties.  Marguerite wouldn't have to know a thing about it.

finis

Recap of the relevant parts of the Knife. 
(At least as far as this ficlet is concerned.)
Two strangers are on the plateau who are connected with Jack the Ripper.  One is a Scotland Yard Inspector who has been chasing Jack the Ripper.  He interrupts a quiet moment between Roxton and Marguerite at the beach by the Inland Sea.   Roxton and Marguerite are taking him back to the treehouse.  Anderson tries to impress Marguerite with his pursuit of the Ripper.  Roxton loses patience.  Anderson seems to be exhausted.  Marguerite insists on stopping.  Roxton doesn't want to and threatens to go on.  

Later on we see Marguerite asleep at the campfire while Roxton and Anderson talk over a cup of tea.  Anderson agrees that Roxton is right to guard Marguerite.  Then Roxton collapses from the curare in the tea.

Since Marguerite fell asleep first it seems reasonable to assume that Marguerite was more tired than was first apparent.