Hey guys! This was a very vicious plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. I don't know if it's any good, but oh well. Slight dashings of Mina/Jekyll. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing, nada. Not even the toothpaste...
That Little Nightime Ritual
It was time.
Mina looked in the mirror and grimaced. It was time for the little "nightmare ritual" she so sincerely detested. Perhaps it was only a petty grievance of hers—it was supposed to be good for you—but still...
She took her toothbrush and scooped out some of the newfangled—according to Captain Nemo, toothpaste wasn't a new invention-- "toothpaste" from the jar onto the brush. The captain had picked up some jars from the States years ago. These were supposed to be better tasting—"Crest guarantees great taste!"—but the paste really was vile, which lingered even after she tried to wash it out with more than enough water to fill the Thames. Henry loved it; he'd made her promise she "would brush at least once everyday". She complied, if only for him.
She chuckled softly, then opened her mouth and gingerly began rotating the brush up and down, circling, scraping her teeth clean. Up, down, circle. Up, down, circle. Up, down, circle...
A sudden violent heave made her drop the brush and grab hold of the sink. When the Nautilus stilled Mina looked up cautiously and saw her reflection in the mirror. Why, she had a little white moustache! She wiped it off, glancing around the empty bathroom instinctively.
She picked up the brush, cleaned it, and started scrubbing again. Her teeth were nice and shining...just one little stubborn speck...there! Done!
Rinsing her mouth in relief, she spat out the foul taste of the paste [A/N: sorry, couldn't resist]. Then she realized she'd forgotten a pair of very important teeth indeed.
A pair of fangs, actually.
She stopped, and was about to brush that thought away when Henry looked in the bathroom.
"Don't forget about these," he remarked with a small smile, tapping at his own canines.
Mina glared.
The door shut quickly.
She sighed. Get this over with, she told herself. Turning back to the mirror, she let out a breath and fleetingly saw her eyes start to redden. A brief, unfocused, primal rage; the fangs slid out from their sheaths. There was still dried blood on them from yesterday night's feed.
She wielded her toothbrush with grim purpose.
Thanks for reading! As for those of you wondering (I did some research!), Crest did introduce a new aromatic toothpaste in 1873, and ones in collapsible tubes in 1896.