Author's Note: Well, welcome to Chapter 9. Took it's sweet time, didn't it? Oh wait… that would be my fault. Ah yes… my apologies. *ashamed* I'll try not to let it happen again. As compensation for the awful wait, this chapter is extra long, as a special treat, and because I seem to have messed up in my chapter plan. I put too much data into one chapter ^_^ Silly me. Oh well, your gain. Lol.
life sucks: You thought that was long? Hah! Look at that scroll bar! LOOK! Cough… ahem… I'm fine, really… A Mary-Sue test is a little thing I took to see whether or not Anise is a self-insertion… turns out (shock, horror, gasp!) she's not! Like I didn't know that already, lol.
angelic katty: Don't worry… they'll probably have a tiff later.
Rayne: Yes indeed, it was Anise in the trailer. Lol, yes, silly Mina…
LotRseer3350: American Government? Where? Oh yeah… don't worry. I think they're in the next chapter actually. You'll have to let me know what you've got so far in regards to your story, and I'll see what I can do to help.
Graymoon74: Hehehehe… did you enjoy your cold shower? As for the physical angst thing… not saying a word. Bwahaha!
Raven Silvers: Yes, everybody needs a little break every now and then, even Tom. OCs? I think this chapter may satisfy, my dear Raven.
Sethoz: You okay over there? I refer you to Seer's comment, and Raven's too for a couple of your questions, lol. And that T line certainly is growing. Lol.
Beck2: Romance? Where? *looks at last chapter* Oh yeah.
RogueSparrow: Me? Steal a lyric from 'Into The West'? Never! Okay, so maybe I did… I couldn't help it.
Niani: It was a tame cliffy at least. Could have been much worse.
Nathan-Daystorm: Glad you're enjoying it. Protective… hmm… you'll have to wait and see. Mwahahaha! *hands you pliers for the fishing hook*
Skinner yawned and stretched as he strode down the corridor to the Nautilus, and remembered what Mina had told them about Sawyer the night before. She had been certain she'd smelt him. Outside, that is. So she had gone off to question him when they'd returned to the ship, and found him fresh out of a bath or something, and perfectly fine… or so she'd said.
But as he was passing Sawyer's cabin on his way – early for once – to breakfast, there was something unsettled deep in the pit of Skinner's stomach, something that told him all was not as it seemed. It was almost instinctual, but he stopped outside the door, and just stared at it. Looking from side to side, he removed his pince-nez from his face as he gently tried the handle.
It was locked.
Nothing a little expert precision won't fix, he thought with a wry smile, pulling off his trilby and looking about, finding a store cupboard across the corridor. He slipped inside quickly and quietly, and flicked on the lamp after closing the door. He placed his glasses and hat on a shelf, and cast his eyes about, muttering happily when he found an unused towel. He took to wiping the cream from his face, using the glass of a bottle as a reflective surface… the best thing he could find at short notice. When he was certain he had more or less cleared it all from his features, he pulled off his leather coat, and laid it carefully on the shelf with his other items.
Skinner crept from the cupboard, and closed the door again, before tiptoeing back over to Sawyer's cabin with the lock pick in his hand.
Now, he thought as he crouched at the keyhole, let's see if I remember how to do this.
He poked the little instrument into the opening, and concentrated, turning it this way and that, waiting for the affirming click that was music to his ears. He had grown to love the sound over his career, and when it happened this time, it was no different. He grinned broadly, and looked up and down the corridor again before tossing the device near the cupboard as quietly as possible. It landed in the corner of the doorway, just out of sight, something that only served to make Skinner happier.
Not bad… not bad at all.
He tried the handle again, finding success in the form of no resistance, as the door opened quietly and smoothly. Skinner slipped inside stealthily, and waited as his eyes tried to adjust.
Of course, he wasn't at all expecting to be violently thrust up against the wall by his throat, and to have his neck squeezed enough to make breathing very difficult. He reached up with invisible hands to try and pry off his attacker, unable to talk.
When a lamp flicked on across the other side of the room, he was not surprised to find it was Sawyer holding him up against the wall, Skinner's feet dangling a good five inches off the ground. There was anger and a hidden menace in the green, somewhat shaded eyes, and his blonde locks were in a tangle atop his head… the glare was still dangerously clear to him though.
Skinner tried to form words of protest, and Sawyer tightened his grip slightly, angrily, but then the thief let his gaze wander over to the figure who had activated the lamp.
His heart nearly failed him.
Tom was furious. How dare Skinner invade his privacy? The American had heard the picking of the lock, and had been waiting in the darkness for the sneaky thief to make his entrance… and then he had pounced.
Of course, he only realised just how much pressure he was applying to Skinner's throat when a small squeak emanated from the invisible intruder. Tom let go, and Skinner crashed to the floor, coughing violently.
"What the hell are you doing?" Tom snapped, thankful he had had the presence of mind to pull his pants on before jumping the other man. He glared down at where he assumed Skinner was – even though he could smell him, oddly enough – and felt his chest heave with anger. It was difficult to keep the anger down enough to stop the churning inside of him… the same sensation that had affected him last night.
Anise stood near the bed, wide-eyed and frightened, her brown hair dishevelled but still carrying an odd grace as she shifted the blanket around her frame. She looked to Tom timidly, and then to the panting heap – or so they assumed – that was Skinner as he recovered.
"What am I doing?" Skinner managed hoarsely, and he coughed once again, before blurting, "What the hell are you doing?" His voice had risen, and Tom winced. Someone would hear him.
"Skinner, be quiet!" he hissed, and took a step forward.
"Whoa, stay back!" Skinner warned, quite a hollow threat considering. There was a moment's pause, before the thief added, "I thought she was dead!"
Tom crouched before his 'friend', and ran his hands through his hair, hanging his head with a heavy, weary sigh. He groaned quietly, even as Anise disappeared into the bathroom with some of the American's spare clothes. The door clicked closed, and Tom raised his head to face Skinner, saying, "Look… so did I, until last night."
"… You left the ship," Skinner mumbled. There was the sound of him scrambling to his feet. "Mina said she'd smelt you, but when we got back, you were still here."
"I had to leave. It was driving me crazy being cooped up," Tom informed him, rising to his full height as well. He only then realised the stinging in his back was gone. Anise had assured him his wounds would heal swifter now, and he realised how accurate she had been. "I saw her die, just like you, Skinner, but it turns out Mina missed… I didn't even recognise her at first out there."
"That was you two fighting out there," Skinner interrupted, and then he made a small gasp of a noise. "Sawyer… did Mina tell you about that woman we went to find?"
Tom shook his head slowly, furrowing his brow. What was Skinner talking about?
"Sawyer," Skinner began in an urgent voice, "she's dead! Something had ripped her apart, and Mina said it was werewolves…"
Tom shook his head faster this time, muttering, "No… not a chance, Skinner. Don't even say that."
"If they find out you were out scrappin' with her, they're gonna think it was you!"
Skinner had a point… a very good point at that, not to mention a frightening one. Tom bit his lower lip in consideration, and heard Skinner moving for the door. He looked up in alarm.
"Sorry, mate, but I've got to tell some-"
Tom hadn't realised how fast he'd moved until he was slamming the door closed with the flat of his palm from behind Skinner, who leapt away with a small cry of surprise.
"I wish you'd stop that!"
"I can't help it," Tom grumbled quickly, and kept his hand firmly on the door. "If you tell them… they'll kill her… really kill her this time."
Anise had not emerged from the bathroom. Tom guessed she hadn't planned to come back out whilst Skinner was still here anyway, and he didn't blame her.
"Skinner," he began, quietly, closing his eyes for a moment and sighing lightly, "please… just… don't tell them. Not yet."
"And what do you propose we do, 'eh? Keep her hidden away. Mina is gonna smell her the minute you walk into that dining hall for breakfast… which we're late for I might add."
Tom leaned against the doorframe, and frowned. "Just… I'll tell them. Okay? I'd rather let them know in my own way. Please?"
Skinner frowned. He hated it when Sawyer pulled the guilt trip on him… it always worked. There was a great battle raging within Skinner as to what he should do, and for a long while, he didn't say anything, just let it all rage through him and decipher itself in its own messy way. He met Sawyer's gaze, and blurted, "Oh all right!"
There was no ghost of a smile on Sawyer's face as he breathed, "Thank you. I'll explain everything, I swear."
"You'd better do," Skinner retorted, jabbing a finger at the American before realising it was a feeble motion, and he quickly retracted his hand. "Now if you don't mind, I'd best be running off to breakfast before someone starts to worry. Last thing you want is them snooping around, I'm sure."
The younger man nodded, and moved away from the door, letting Skinner past.
"And you'd better hurry up, Sawyer," Skinner added as he was slipping out. "If you're not there in five minutes…" he paused, hesitant to say what he wished to, before quickly letting it out, "I will tell them."
Sawyer just stared for a moment, and then closed the door. There was the sound of the locking mechanism again, and Skinner sighed heavily, rubbing his neck, heading over to the cupboard for his things and remembering he would need to repaint his face.
Even though he would never admit it… that had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life.
Allan looked up from his breakfast as Skinner – or rather what was visible of him anyway – walked into the room with a curious air of urgency. He hurriedly took his seat, and poured himself some tea, grabbing a slice of toast with a muttered, "Morning."
Allan and Mrs. Harker exchanged confused glances, before the woman glanced to her right where the man sat, asking, "Are you all right, Mr. Skinner?"
"Fine."
That was all he said on the matter, buttering the toast quickly and proceeding to nibble at it rather nervously.
For a thief, he really was quite terrible at hiding what he was feeling when he wore that face paint. Allan arched a brow. He was about to open his mouth and ask if the thief had seen Agent Sawyer on his way, but when the door opened again and the object of his intended inquiry walked in, he let the matter drop in his mind. Sawyer walked up to the seat between Allan and Jekyll, and sat down quietly, offering a feeble smile to everyone.
"How are you today, Agent Sawyer?" Dr. Jekyll asked politely, lifting his cup to drink and eyeing the young man somewhat warily, as if he expected him to turn and attack at any minute. Allan rolled his eyes discreetly.
"Uh… I'm fine," Sawyer mumbled, and looked as though he were trying to decide if he was hungry or not. "Thank you."
Allan studied the boy's face as he sat there, looking a little out of place. There was something else in his eyes as well, that the hunter could not decipher, and he furrowed his brow, deciding to stem his curiousity for the time being, and drop the matter. Sawyer eventually settled back in his chair, clearly not interested in any of the food available, though he did drink a cup of tea quite quickly… a little too quickly. Allan was amazed it didn't burn the boy's throat, but Sawyer did not seem affected at all.
Something's wrong, Allan thought, musing over what the reason could be, and finding nothing came to mind. He looked across the table to the other occupants, and found that Harker could not take her eyes off Sawyer. It wasn't a longing expression either… she was angry. Allan would never admit it, but the expression sent a chill up and down his spine. Even after all he had seen – even in death – in his years, that look was enough to frighten him more than he thought possible.
Suddenly, her gaze hardened resolutely, and with a scowl, she stood from the table. Sawyer watched her, looked to Skinner, who Allan noticed was avoiding the American's eye, and also stood.
Harker was already storming from the room, and Allan, Nemo and Jekyll exchanged curious glances, even as Sawyer darted out through the doors in pursuit of the vampire. Skinner seemed hesitant to follow the other three men as they stood and gave chase, but clearly not wanting to be left out, he trotted along after them.
Allan had no idea what was going on, but he had the distinct impression he was about to find out.
Damn Skinner, was all Tom could think as he ran after Mina, who was using all of her speed to put distance between them. He knew where she was headed, and his heart raced in his chest at what would happen if he didn't get there first. He skidded around another corner in the corridor, and saw her at the next bend. With a glare, he used a sudden burst of speed to his advantage, and shot off after her. He told her… he must have. How else would she know?
He could hear the others in swift pursuit behind him, and he didn't need to turn his head to glance over his shoulder in order to know that the entire League was running in the same direction.
Run faster, he told himself, and found his legs obeying. He couldn't remember ever running so fast, and he turned the last corner, seeing Mina Harker at his own cabin door. She was reaching for the handle, and Tom bolted down the corridor, just as she threw the door open and stepped inside the room. He heard her feral growl.
The rest of the League darted around the corner, just in time to see Tom disappear inside his cabin. They chased to the doorway, just as the most unbelievable of sights took place.
Tom had grabbed a hold of Mina, and thrown her backwards, whirling on her bestially with a ferocious growl that rumbled deep in his throat. He wasn't ashamed to hold it down, as Anise cowered on the bed, curled up with fright near the headboard. Tom stood at the foot of the bed, standing in a rigid, defensive way, growling in a low, threatening manner.
Mina had reeled backwards, and now stared at Tom in obvious disbelief. Her still-blue eyes were wide with amazement, and her mouth parted slightly in shock.
The two supernatural creatures stood facing each other off for a long moment, and the League stood in the doorway, in a mixture of horror and awe at the spectacle within.
"My goodness," Nemo exclaimed softly, and Tom guessed he was referring to the Frenchwoman who was sliding off the bed, and walking to the American's side.
She touched a hand to his arm, even as Jekyll took it upon himself to divert his eyes to his hands as they fiddling with his pocket watch. Tom let his growl die away, and wavered in his vehemence, as Anise muttered his name.
"She is alive?" Nemo muttered. "How can this be?"
"That is precisely what I would like to know," Mina grumbled, taking a step towards the two werewolves.
Tom thrust himself in front of Anise, who moved out of his way, and looked a little sheepish at the protection he was bestowing upon her. She did not resist it, but she seemed a little taken aback by it.
"Stay away from her," Tom returned in a low tone, even as Quatermain strode slowly and carefully into the room.
"Can someone explain all of this to me? Who is this woman?"
"Later, Mr. Quatermain," Mina snapped, and that was intended to be the end of it, her eyes still locked with Tom's.
Tom wasn't sure if this was intended to be a challenge or not, but if it was… he was more than ready to take her up on it. He had almost ripped her apart in that alley… he would do it again, though he would be damned if he knew the whole reason behind it. He seemed to be instinctively protective of Anise, afraid to let Mina near her, perceiving her as the threat he knew deep down in his heart the vampire was to the fellow lycanthrope.
"Agent Sawyer," Mina began carefully, "step aside…"
"No."
"Please."
"I won't let you touch her."
Mina glared. "For heaven's sake, boy… I'm not going to hurt her. I know very well that you could kill me effortlessly in your other form if you wanted to."
"Then what are you doing?" Tom countered heatedly, and cocked his head to one side in inquiry.
Mina stood stock still before him, unwavering yet silent. Her eyes were locked with his, and she did not even blink. She simply stood there, unresponsive.
Tom resisted the bestial growl again as he said, "I knew it." Then the sensation was suddenly back in his stomach, and he doubled over with an abrupt cry. He held a hand to his stomach, and breathed heavily.
Quatermain moved forward, but Mina held him back, even as Anise crouched down beside Tom as he fell to one knee, and touched a hand soothingly to his back, muttering to him, "Fight it, Tom, you don't want this now. You have to take control of it. I went through the exact same thing at first… but I learned to master it… and I will help you to do so as well."
Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Tom set his jaw defiantly, and pushed the sensation down… quicker than before. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw that Mina had backed away, as if afraid. She was looking at him now, her eyes a little wider, and some of her determination lost in her stance. Tom looked from the vampire, to the confused hunter. Jekyll was stood outside on the other side of the corridor, itching to get away it seemed, with Nemo standing intrigued near to him. Skinner was cowering near the back.
Tom held his gaze on Skinner, who quickly blurted, "Look, I didn't tell her, all right?"
Mina turned her head quickly in Skinner's direction. "You knew?"
"I only found out when Sawyer here attacked me!"
Tom narrowed his eyes. "You picked my lock!" Anise was still beside him, watching the heated exchange with deep concern and perhaps even a little fright. Tom could practically sense her urge to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.
Mina looked back to Tom and Anise, settling her eyes on the American and saying, "Mr. Skinner – whatever he knew – did not tell me of Miss Delacroix's unbelievable presence, I assure you. Believe what you will… but I smelt her on you the minute you stepped into the dining room." There was an edge to her voice that only served to make Tom's anger escalate.
They're all angry… they're confused… and look at them; they're frightened of me. It was heartbreaking, but understandable… as well as infuriating. He looked at them each in turn, deciphering the expressions on their faces: fear; disbelief; anger; confusion; disappointment.
Tom stood, taking hold of Anise by the hand, and then by the arm, and leading her from the room. As everyone darted backwards out of their way, it only served to solidify the course of action in his head.
"Sawyer!" Quatermain called after them, as Tom and Anise walked swiftly and with purpose down the corridor, though the latter wasn't quite so certain what was going on.
"Tom, what are we doing?"
"We're getting out of here," he told her angrily, his face set grimly, as he led her to the ramp out of the ship. He had a feeling they wouldn't be stopped this time.
Mina walked out of the now-empty cabin, and called to Allan Quatermain as he made to pursue the two young werewolves, "Leave them be, Mr. Q."
The hunter turned back to her, eyes blazing with confusion and anger. "You plan to just let them leave? When Sawyer is in that condition?"
Mina sighed, rubbing her temples. She still couldn't believe Sawyer had thrown her back from Anise like that. "Sawyer is in no 'condition' for us to be concerned about, Mr. Quatermain… clearly, he can handle himself, and Miss Delacroix seems to have a better calming affect on him than you do yourself, meaning no offence."
Quatermain stood defiantly before her, silent for a moment. Skinner, Jekyll and Nemo watched with varying degrees of intrigue or anxiety, until the hunter blurted, "Will somebody please explain what the hell is going on here?"
Mina groaned quietly. This certainly was going to take some time and patience.
She looked over her shoulder at him as they walked through the woods, up a small hill, and noticed the tension in his limbs as he moved. He was angry… that much was obvious, but he was clearly upset underneath all of that, covering it with a shroud as if embarrassed by such an emotion. Anise frowned.
"You should not blame them, Tom," she said to him, knowing that he would pick out her voice even in the quiet rustling of the Scotland outdoors, with the sounds of nature chattering away all around them as they broke through the trees into a clearing, on a small apex of a minor hill.
Tom came up behind her as she stopped for a moment, taking in the smells and sounds of the place she had come to call home recently. Although she had not been here long, she had actually grown quite fond of this almost lazy place, with its charm and slow pace.
"I never said I blamed them," Tom told her quietly, stopping just slightly behind her, looking around as if curious as to where they were. They was an air of mild apprehension about him as well, as though he didn't entirely trust her. She didn't blame him for that, but she did greatly appreciate the way he had stood up for in front of his own friends.
"I just expected more of them… that's all."
Anise turned to him, and smiled softly. "I know how you feel. Before everything with Beauvais and Evans…" she sighed, and laughed quietly. "Well, you can probably guess what I was going to say."
He nodded slowly, putting his hands in his pockets, a habit he clearly had no intention of breaking anytime soon. She reached up gently, and planted a light kiss on him, attempting to be comforting, but whether or not she succeeded… she didn't know. He didn't let on, and she was comfortable to let it pass for what it was.
She carried on her way, knowing they were almost to what she wanted to show him, what she trusted him enough to see.
With her back to Tom, Anise smiled.
He followed behind her, more than a little tentative. He had trusted her blindly before and been hurt, but he wasn't exactly so vulnerable this time. Tom liked to think – perhaps stubbornly – that he would have been victorious in their little scuffle in their lycanthropic forms… but he didn't want to have to resort to that. This time, though he was unsure why… he trusted her.
Tom traipsed through the trees with her, noticing the way everything immediately around them fell quiet as they passed, as though all the animals were frightened or intimidated… perhaps both. Not a creature stirred, and that fact disheartened Tom. Even though he had tormented insects as a child in Missouri, he liked to think of himself as an animal-enthusiast… now it seemed they were all afraid of him.
Sighing, he followed Anise into the next clearing, this one much larger than the last, and set down in a slight dip in the floor of the wood. He looked up from his boots, and stopped.
There, sitting quite out of place, was a house, single storey, but wide from what he could tell. There was a tall wire fence around the perimeter, and what looked like a gate facing the obvious front door. Tom furrowed his brow, and glanced to Anise, who was smiling and looking over her shoulder at him.
"What-"
"Do you trust me?"
Tom looked her in the eye, hesitating before nodding briskly. "Yes."
Anise smiled again, and led the way up to the tall wire gate, opening it and slipping inside. She let him in, and then closed it once more, before leading him up to the front door. Looking around him as he followed her, Tom had to guess the fence was about fifteen feet tall, ominous and ugly. Glancing back to Anise, he saw that she had opened the front door. It had been unlocked.
At his questioning gaze, she said, "I was expected. We don't get many visitors, as I'm sure you can understand."
'We'? What does she mean by 'we'? Tom stepped into the house with her, and immediately heard the sound of a scream of what seemed to be anger. Anise laughed, and led Tom down a bare – and rather narrow – corridor towards another door. She pulled it open, and stepped inside.
When Tom followed, his jaw dropped at once. There, standing in the obvious lock of a challenge were two figures. The first was huge… colossal even, standing at close on seven feet, wearing a sleeveless vest, and holding in his huge hands a quarterstaff. His feet were bare, but his palms and knuckles were wrapped in white cloth as though they had been bandaged. Tom could tell from where he stood that they were not wounded though, and it was merely for training. The man's short hair was dark brown, almost black, and he had matching intelligent eyes, with an oddly knowing smirk on his face. If Tom had to guess, he would have said the man was about thirty, if not a little younger.
The second, despite being far smaller, only just over five feet, looked the more ferocious and volatile of the two. It was a young woman, about Tom's age, and she was standing in a professional defensive stance, legs wide, feet firmly planted. She had long black hair; her bangs cut in a neat line across her brow, just above cool – yet somewhat soulful – brown eyes that were narrowed in anticipation. She was dressed very much appropriately for combat, in pants and a blouse that did not hinder her movement. But perhaps the most intimidating thing about her was what she held in her hands. In the left was a long and wicked looking dagger that shone in the light of the numerous lamps around the room. And in her right was a longer, slightly curved sword with a round guard and smoothly surfaced hilt. Tom wracked his brain for the word, and found it tucked in the back of his mind… a katana.
The woman had them both angled in an attacking posture, and without a sound, she lunged, slashing and swinging the blades in perfect synchronised motions at the man, who twisted and turned the resilient staff this way and that to block her. The metal struck the wood with hollow thuds, until finally the katana shattered the staff entirely out of the man's grip, and to save his arm from being badly wounded, he twisted his whole body around, and lashed out at the woman with a kick, striking her between the shoulder blades and knocking her forward with a shout.
And as suddenly as they had started, they ceased, when Anise laughed, clapping her hands for a moment. She nodded her head, and muttered, "Impressive."
The woman with the blades muttered something that Tom could not make out, in a foreign language, and eyed the man who had kicked her with some contempt, before smiling just at the edge of her mouth. She tucked the dagger into a leather sheath at her waist, and claimed a long, thing and equally curved scabbard from the side of the room. It looked to be made of wood, but it shone in the light, pitch black with a kind of ghostly swirling of grey around its length. She spun the katana skilfully and with very little effort, and slipped it with precision back into the case.
The two walked over to him, and from the display he had just seen, Tom was tempted to take a step back for safety. They were obviously skilled in combat… and Tom – though comfortingly weighed down by his Colt pistols – knew he would probably lose in a fight.
The man looked – surprisingly – more welcoming than the woman. He held out a hand without being introduced. Anise laughed, and said, "This is Dmitri. He comes from Russia. I met him on a cargo vessel over from America after… well…"
Dmitri took Tom's hand in his and pumped it enthusiastically in greeting.
Tom winced at the unbelievable strength in just the one limb, and managed to say, "Tom Sawyer. Nice to meet you."
Dmitri released Tom's hand, and laughed heartily, nodding. "The pleasure is mine." His accent was thick but understandable, and Tom smiled at him politely. He seemed friendly enough… a little too happy though, perhaps.
The other woman looked at Tom warily, her eyes still narrowed sceptically as to his intentions. Tom swallowed subtlely; intimidated by the katana she still carried in her hand, and offered her a weak smile.
"And this is Lei Cheung, from the Orient," Anise informed him.
At least she has two names, Tom thought wryly, and nodded, offering his hand. Lei Cheung took it, and only shook it twice before letting go. With that, she left the room. Tom watched her, all traces of his anger and disappointment about the League forgotten for the time being at the prospect of meeting these new people.
"Was it something I said?" he asked, and Dmitri laughed, clapping him on the back. Tom winced, the traces of the injury still present on his shoulder blades, though not as painful as they should have been thankfully. His new metabolism was taking care of that for him.
"Do not worry," the Russian said to him, towering over him formidably, "she is always like this. Sometimes she is very rude indeed. You have seen her on a good day!"
Tom couldn't help but laugh at the man's words, and nodded. He looked to Anise.
Anise smiled, rubbing his arm as he tucked his hands in his pockets, feeling a little more at ease.
A/N2: Okay, so kill me for ending it there! But look at it! It's huge! Some of the content from this chapter has been shifted to the next. Don't worry… you will get that update pretty sharp-ish, quicker than this one anyway. If it takes too long, don't hesitate to PM me, and give me a good poke, lol. I won't be offended.