Author's Notes: Well, this was a speedy update, hmm? Not as long as the others, unfortunately, but it's just a bit of a filler. The next chapter will be – much – longer, and hopefully, shouldn't be too long in coming either.

Nathan-Daystorm – *pours you a glass of milk* I remember the Gullivar stuff now. That would have made NO sense in this fic, so it got cut entirely. I agree with you though, the Sorns were awesome! *watches you run amok* Aheh.

Sethoz – I'm so glad you're enjoying this *grins* Hehe, I love the matchsticks bit in the comic, so I had to include it. The cat! The cats were a whim. Hehehehe… yes… Skinner… mwahahaha!

Lady Moon3 – I'm glad you're liking it. I aim to please. Hehe, that's some funny review stuff. Thanks.

TARilus – Ah yes… hey, TAR. Glad you liked the Hyde, Mina and Tom bits. And as I told you about Skinner… *leaves it hanging right there*

Angharad – Thanks! Yes he is! And I'm glad! And I have!

On with the show… here is part four of LXG2: Above & Beyond!

*         *         *

           The sound of shelling had awoken them, and they were stumbling out of the door to the inn before they had even realised the obvious absence of Edward Hyde… replaced by the definite form of Henry Jekyll once more, somewhat stunned and bashful as always. They made nothing of it, as ever, and glanced out in the direction of the common, surprised to find Skinner already arisen. Mina decided to ignore it, telling herself that it might have been his obvious hangover that had kept him from laying in until this hour… that wasn't all that late, being around eight o'clock. He was staring out in the direction of the booming that was cannon and artillery fire, and the rest of the League came up beside and around him, in various stages of waking and dress.

           They had their jackets in their hands, should they need to rush off for anything, and Quatermain and Sawyer had had the presence of mind to bring their guns out with them. The American's cap was askew on his head, and she cleared her throat, prompting him to snatch it off.

           All eyes were firmly fixed to the distance, through the trees, where they could make out sporadic flashes of firing from the weapons, and the sounds echoed around the common and its surrounding perimeter, reaching The Bleak House without hindrance.

           I wonder why I slept so late, Mina found herself wondering, before she saw a recognisable glint of green from where she estimated – from memory – the pit to be. Her heart froze in her chest, and her breath left her quickly as she registered the shape and size of the object and its glow. Dear god… not again… all those men.

           The others seemed to notice it as well, regardless of the presence of supernatural senses or otherwise, and it was with a certain sense of hopelessness that they listened to the screaming and wailing, the screeching of horses, and the crackling of fire starting to blaze, seeing the glowing and blazing on the tree line.

           "Dear god," Jekyll uttered, distraught, brown eyes wide with terror. "Those great black belches of smoke from the common… are those our artillery positions?"

           No one replied, in the strictest sense, too dismayed to move or address the obvious question. The answer was staring the doctor in the face in the form of flickering flames reaching over the canopy of woodland.

           "But…" Quatermain shook his head, thick brow furrowed, "how could they pinpoint our guns so accurately? So quickly?"

           "I… I don't know. Perhaps…" Mina was at a loss for an answer, her voice breathless and barely audible. No one had looked away from the furious carnage as of yet.

           "Obviously they possess superhuman intelligence." Skinner shrugged, face grave. "Predicting such things would be child's play for-"

           "Damn."

           Everybody looked to Sawyer, whose head had turned back to the inn. They followed suit, and were stunned to see The Bleak House going up in flames that had eerily started whilst their backs were turned. Had the device set off the blaze? There seemed to be no other explanation, Mina realised, as the roof crackled merrily, tiles falling loose and shattering noisily against the ground. The two cats from the building skirted out of the window, wailing loudly and narrowly avoiding being ignited, fleeing into the nearby woods. Mina watched them for a moment, and then glanced back at the raging fire at the inn.

           "If we'd stayed in bed a moment longer…" she began, eyes slightly wider than normal.

           Sawyer seemed equally perplexed and distressed at her side, saying, "But… I mean, that heat device. How can it possibly reach this far? We're nowhere near the common!"

           Nemo glanced down the road to their right, even as Mina watched the words 'Fine Ales' vanish in the orange, red and yellow flames. "Someone approaches from the common," Nemo announced nonchalantly.

           As one, the confused and luckily spared League turned to the road, the waves of heat from the fire coursing over them, causing their hair and clothes to play in layers around their faces and bodies. Mina only then registered that her locks were loose, flowing in tresses about her neck, shoulders and upper chest area. She had forgotten all about it. Nemo, of course, was correct. There was indeed a coach approaching from the direction of the common, and the thunder of two horses' hooves travelled to them, even as the definite shapes of the animals and their harnessed trailer came into view. A tall, rough, imposing – somewhat, at least – man sat in the driver's seat… one that she didn't recognise. He was wearing a formal driver's suit, with a tall hat and a polished badge upon it. His horses were large and proud, dark brown and black in colour, blinkered and harnessed in buffed leather, with creaking straps and clanking steel bits in their mouths. They snorted as the man tugged them to a halt, and they tossed their heads for a moment, before remaining obediently still.

           "Are you the Sawyer-Harker group?" the man asked in deep, scornful, pressing tones laced with urgency and impatience. He regarded them with dark, hurrying eyes.

           "I am Wilhelmina Harker, this is Thomas Sawyer, and these are our associates," Mina divulged with a nod. Sawyer shifted his weight on his feet, and watched the man inquisitively, scanning him from head to toe, as if trying to judge whether or not he was trustworthy. "You've come from Whitehall, I presume?"

           "Name's Smithson," he replied grimly. "I delivered the orders to open fire. I'd instructions to return you to London if things went badly." He indicated the carriage with a rough jerk of his head behind him, emphasising the need for haste, and the risk that delay could cause. All but Skinner clambered in. The thief looked up through his pince-nez, raising an eyebrow.

           "Are we to take it that's how things have gone then? Badly?" Skinner cocked his head.

           Smithson did not seem impressed, and even from inside the body of the carriage, between Sawyer and Quatermain; Mina could sense his irritation with the cocky thief.

           "Just get in the coach," he growled, and Skinner complied, taking his seat snugly next to Nemo and Jekyll.

           With a crack of the whip, and a thrash of the reins, the coach was set into swift, paced motion, the drumming of the hooves rocking the carriage slightly. Mina could tell Nemo missed his Nautilus, and for once, she sympathised. She would much rather have been on the submersible right then, and she didn't doubt that all of the others were in agreement.

           For the rest of the journey, Mina forced her mind into blissful silence, blanking it out entirely, even as they passed the scene of the slaughter once more.

*         *         *

           Henry took the oppurtunity on the journey to mull over what had happened on the common for the transformation to take place. Edward had been in existence a lot longer than he should have been… and that worried the doctor, understandably. Hyde was normally only around for an hour at most, especially when exerting a lot of physical energy.

           Perhaps that was it… with the exception of the emotional outburst on the common, Hyde had not done much. And then he remembered the most drastic thing Hyde had recently done, and he had to fight to stop his eyes from widening to saucers. He had told Mina he loved her!

           "I did, worm, and there is nothing to be done about it now. What's done is done." The wry chuckle reverberated, and Henry grimaced. The monster was right… Mina knew now – even if it was Hyde who told her, and not Henry himself, though he wasn't sure about his feelings and very rarely was – and there was nothing that could be done to reverse that.

           "Good to see you can admit defeat."

           Henry made a point of ignoring the mocking, and tried to focus on something – anything – else. Everyone else in the carriage was awkwardly and pensively silent, and it was starting to make him very nervous indeed… not that that was difficult in the circumstances. So he took to staring out of the window to his right as the coach rocked steadily backwards and forwards with the motion of the horses pulling it. They were passing through a town that – by the looks of the sign that could vaguely be made out – was called Maybury. People were up in arms, cramming luggage onto carts and into carriages left, right and centre, rushing about with children in their arms to try and escape the terror that loomed not far away.

           Glancing back to the grim expressions of the others… Henry almost wished he could join the fleeing civilians.

*         *         *

           When they got back to London, the news had already hit the papers, and was plastered through the city like it was the biggest thing to ever have happened… which it most definitely was. It wasn't exactly small news, and Tom was not surprised to find men shouting out the headlines with bundles of the tabloids in their arms, selling them here, there and everywhere.

           The Albion was less than welcoming to the collected League when they had made a brief detour to the Nautilus to attire themselves in fresh, clean clothing. They rendezvoused with Mycroft Holmes and Campion Bond not long after that. Mina Harker had fixed her hair back into its bun, and he was almost sorry she had. It had looked intriguingly different and elegant when down. Shaking his head, Tom remembered there were more pressing matters at hand.

           Bond, for his part, looked more composed than they had last seen him. Tom wasn't sure what to think about that, and so ignored it as simple recovery. He was far enough away from the carnage to cast it aside for the moment, and Tom narrowed his eyes at that thought. Was Bond really that cold?

           "It's war then?"

           Tom looked to Holmes, who seemed indifferent, but severe in his delivery of the simple words. His eyes kept wandering back to the skeleton that loomed over them… it seemed gigantic, mountainous even, and Tom mused on its origin, or if it was even real at all. Raising a brow, Tom diverted his attention back to Mina and the situation.

           "Bloody difficult seeing what else it could be," Quatermain grumbled cynically, and glanced around for a moment at the ageing paintings and artefacts that surrounded them.

           "I fear this is no idle sortie," Mina added icily, narrowing her cool blue orbs at Holmes warningly. "I fear that the word we are all avoiding is 'invasion'."

           Tom felt a cold finger trail up his spine at that word, and he tried not to give in to it.

           "We hear another cylinder landed in Surrey," Mina added, crossing her arms over her frame, impatient and irritated.

           "Mm." Holmes closed his eyes for a moment, as though not in the mood for the vampiress. Tom felt like punching the irritation right off the man's face, but refrained. "Byfleet golf links. We're shelling it now."

           With a dramatic wave of the hand before anyone could object to his attitude, Holmes persisted, "But please, no mention of invasion. The panic alone could kill hundreds. Whereas despite this heat device, causalities will be limited. The creatures are evidently unable to leave their craters."

           Bond seemed to be shrinking behind Holmes, in the hopes that he would be overlooked. Tom agreed wholeheartedly with Mina's earlier comment about 'a vile coward' and tightened his fingers around the grips of his waist-holstered Colts.

           "Aheh," Skinner chuckled humourlessly. "Good job. That would be dreadful. So, what are our plans?"

           "For the moment, you will observe and remain flexible." Holmes rubbed at his tiepin, polishing it idly as he spoke. "Wait and see what these creatures will do next. Mr. Bond here has charts of our proposed artillery positions, with which you will familiarise yourselves. Mr. Bond?"

           The large man pulled something from within his ghastly jacket, and handed it to Mina, who held her hand out for it as if impatient to see the layout. Tom inched closer to her, almost guarding.

           "Here." He released them to Mina. "Please don't let these leave the museum. They're highly secret."

           Mina rolled her eyes, and Tom threw Bond a reproachful glance that told him to push his luck; dare to push that train of thought.

           "I scarcely think we require lessons on national security from you, or anyone, sir," Mina chided, and passed the plan to Tom firmly. He accepted them, tucking them away inside his long, black jacket for later consideration.

           "Mr. Holmes," Jekyll began shakily, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady, and coming to settle somewhere comfortably in between, "might you be more detailed concerning our instructions?"

           "Of course, Doctor," Holmes replied aloofly, and Tom's good old instinct kicked back into action. His hands tightened even firmer around the grips of the pistols, and he had to remind himself that – though they were sturdy – they could be broken under pressure. He released his grip on them, and pocketed his hands instead.

           "You, madam," Holmes continued, looking to Mina, "and the young Agent, should study our war plans, and learn what you can of our enemy. Read about Mars, for example."

           Well, if that wasn't obvious, I don't know what was…

           "Some or all of your comrades should venture south of the river again on reconnaissance. Later, I may have more specific missions in mind for some of you. Let us see how things develop," Holmes finished, to which Quatermain bristled immediately, rising to the challenge as though he had been insulted.

           "What?" he snapped harshly. "You mean we have to go back to Horsell? I hope you're at least providing transport, Holmes."

           The large man had turned towards the window by this point, staring out over the industrial city that was London almost longingly. "Naturally," he responded in a neutral manner, and Tom narrowed his eyes at the discreet melancholy in the tone. "You'll have the same coach you arrived in. The driver, Mr. William Smithson Senior, is one of our best men. Distinguished himself fighting the mad Mahdi…"

           "Sir?" Mina was looking towards the large, full-wall window now, along with the others, Tom by her immediate side. "What are England's chances in this conflict?" Her voice was rather quiet, and her eyes rather tender.

           "As with the Mahdi uprisings, Mrs. Harker, we must remain optimistic." As Holmes said the last, emphasised word, Skinner and Bond looked in Tom's direction. He pretended not to notice.

           "Hmm…" Holmes looked deep in thought, as if lost in his own memories. "Do you know… I believe it's coming on to rain. Not to worry."

           Tom furrowed his brow at the sudden distance in the voice, and wondered what had come over the man.

           "I doubt it will amount to much…"