Author's Notes: I am so sorry this took so long. I have had the mother of all blocks, and I was near ready to smashing myself repeatedly over the head to get something happening! But here it is at last. Oh, and on a side note, I've lowered the rating, because – even with the content of the story – it seemed a bit high. Any requests to raise it again, and I'll probably do it, but it's no more violent than any of my other stories shrug::.
Drakena the Destroyer: I am indeed keeping faithful to the comic books, as much as I can be whilst being faithful to the movie at the same time.
Marcus Lazarus: Glad you liked the last chapter. See? There's another cool tagline! Seriously, if this were split into a weekly show, I could rely on you to come up with a little line for each week, hehehehe.
I luv tom: Sorry about the lj-journal thing. Didn't know you were reading it, heh. I promise I'll write more one-shots when I get the ideas. They're in there somewhere…
Kame-sama: Glad you find it exciting – that's good news. And you might notice a pattern in my stories… I'm always mean to Tom, but I never kill him winks::
LotRsser3350: Unexpected? Cool. Jekyll transformed without the potion; due in fact to a combination of the potion entering his bloodstream near the beginning, and Hyde raging stronger than ever inside.
INMH: Glad you like it. Tom/Mina moments? Oh, if I can help it grins::
Delas: Glad (I say that too much) you find it interesting. I hope the Skinner inclusion is to your liking, anyway. Number come up soon, you say? ::shifty look, accompanied by a nervous laugh::
And now, without any further delay, is the new part of LXG2: Above & Beyond!
Rodney Skinner was still shaking like a leaf. His anticipation had overcome him, and he had tried to fool the aliens, but it seemed he didn't have as greater sense of communication with them as Marvel did. They had become quickly perplexed, even angered, by his attempts to speak with them in fractions and broken up sentences, and he had detected the signs before… well, he didn't fancy losing something he might miss later on.
Like his skin.
Shuddering at the thought of fire, he climbed the last few steps in the museum's hall, and came up on the second level, where he had last heard the impostor go. But now he had lost him.
Cursing the invisibility that linked them, Skinner looked left and right for anything out of place, furrowing his brow as he did so. On a whim, he turned right, and travelled stealthily in that direction, determined to find the man. He had to be around here–
There he was… the impression in the carpet was delicate, but it was there, and Skinner recognised it. He had catalogued in his mind long ago all the things that made him – even in the slightest – visible to those who would be present during his concealment, in case they gave him away.
Just as Marvel's standing motionless before the grand window did. The room seemed to be a simple rest quarters, devoid of bed, but lavishly decorated with chairs, tables, lamps and flowers nevertheless. There were a few paintings on the wall, and he wondered just how many other rooms like this there were dotted around.
His musings were broken when he heard Marvel shift in front of the window, and it sounded as though he yawned.
Well, he has been a busy little git, Skinner thought. Must have tired himself out. With a sneer, he advanced, not entirely sure what he planned to do for himself. But he had been watching this man for long enough, and it was time he did something about the wicked deeds Marvel had done.
Marvel needed to be stopped.
Edward refrained from whistling as the carriage rattled along, the sounds of distant fires, far off screams and the last dregs of society filtering to his ears over the noise of the horses' hooves on the cobbles as they travelled at a swift and steady pace. Smithson sat up on the driver's ledge, cracking his whip every now and then near the animals' flanks, and giving an encouraging yell.
Despite the surroundings, Edward was in good spirits. No matter how much he loved London – and hated to see her burn and fall into ruin – he was on his way to get rid of a nagging desire in the back of his mind. It would lift his spirits, he hoped. He despised not being satisfied.
It wasn't long before the large coach passed through the gateway to the museum, still guarded by some of 'London's finest', who watched them pass. Edward grunted at the sight of them; such men who had pursued him through the streets and alleys in years past.
"Right, we're here," Smithson said from his place, and the carriage rolled to a stop, the horses snorting and stamping their hooves. Edward started to climb out as the driver persisted, "Shall you want picking up later?"
"I may do," Edward acknowledged gruffly. "I invited Nemo to join me here for dinner later. Come with him if you like." Edward regarded him darkly. "And bring some food."
"Fair enough," Smithson grumbled in response. "Why are you 'ere, anyway? You don't strike me as the museum sort."
Edward smiled slyly at that, revealing his almost jagged and discoloured teeth, eyes shining with intent. A slight chuckle parted his lips. "You're wrong. Why, I'm obsessed with the past." One of his large fists clenched. "I simply can't let things go. Do you know what I mean?" Without letting the driver respond, he continued, "I'll see you later, I expect."
Even as Edward Hyde turned from Smithson's view, the rain started to drizzle from the heavy clouds again.
"Hm. See you later," Smithson said to him as he went. "Come on, girl." And with a crack of his whip, he was on his way.
Edward strode up the steps into the Albion, and pushed through the doors. Lifting his head, he took a sniff, catching the scent that had passed this way not too long ago it seemed. He laughed quietly, a rough, scratchy sound that rattled in his throat, before he pursued the scent up the staircase ahead of him.
He whistled as he went, knowing that Skinner would never be able to get past him unnoticed, should he hear the approaching giant of an alter ego. Past all the oddities and cabinets of curiosity he went, down a corridor towards an open door, peering inside before he stepped through entirely.
Yes, this was the place.
Turning around steadily, he pushed the door closed, finding in its lock, a key. He used it, sealing the portal, and slipped the key into his pocket at his side. He turned back around, looking to the lavish room he had claimed as his stage.
"There, now," he murmured. "All cosy."
Skinner could hear him. He knew he could.
He hummed a tune to himself as he travelled to one of the larger chairs, sitting himself in it carefully, ensuring he was comfortable before he sighed out, "Ah… lovely." To his side was a newspaper, and after arching a brow, he lifted it from its stand, turning to a page and perusing the words printed there.
He let the atmosphere in the room grow tense and agitated. Skinner would feel his nerves tingling now, eager to escape, just waiting for Edward to leave again. Oh no, but that wasn't the plan. That was not how Edward had set it out carefully in his mind.
Edward Hyde started to chuckle, and then laugh, craning his large head back on his neck to let out his mirth. "You know, this is really quite funny," he announced to the apparently empty room. "You're thinking 'if I don't make any noise, he won't know I'm here'."
Edward set down the paper and laughed again. "Now you're thinking…" He laughed again. "Now you're thinking 'he's bluffing'."
It was true that he was no mind reader, but he could practically smell these thoughts rolling off the thief in a panic. "But I'm not, Skinner. I promise you I'm not." He leaned forward in his seat, cracking his knuckles. "You have my word as a… gentleman."
Silence. Skinner did not respond.
"Ah, well. I suppose we may as well get things started," Hyde mused aloud, sighing, and he rose from his seat, pushing off from the armrests to stand at his full height. He cast an intimidating shadow.
"Oh, Skinner, come on. I know you're here." He grinned as he strode towards a podium sculpture in the corner. "I can see you. I've always been able to see you. Keeping quiet's no use."
"This…" Skinner's voice cracked the silence from the corner, and it was shaking. He moved slightly, his hand brushing against the statue as he looked around him. "Hyde, this isn't right…"
Hyde reached out with a hand, and he heard Skinner choke slightly as the fingers wrapped around the invisible neck. "No, I suppose not," he replied, not sure what the man was whining about.
Chuckling again, Hyde shifted his grip on the man, who futilely tried to struggle his way free. "This is your arm, isn't it?"
"God, Hyde, please don't… wait!"
And using his strong hands, Edward twisted with a jerk, and heard a snap, and then the following scream from Skinner, who writhed to get free.
"Hyde!" he wailed. "Wait! Listen, please!"
Edward was about to snap a retort of irritation, his patience wearing thin, but he heard a creak from the other corner behind where he had been sitting. He looked quickly in that direction, keeping his grip on Skinner, but saw nothing.
"I didn't hurt Sawyer! That wasn't me!"
Edward's eyes turned back on Skinner, who was trying to get free still. "I swear I didn't hurt him; he's my friend! Why would I do that?" His pain was clear in his trembling voice, as he continued by saying, "Please, Hyde…"
Growling, Edward opened his mouth to respond, before Skinner gave a yell, and something crashed down on the back of the large alter ego's head. He roared, and reeled, splinters from the shattered chair scattering everywhere. He waved his mighty arms, having released Skinner, who yelled again, and rolled away to freedom, no doubt cradling his broken arm.
Edward felt the intrusion into his pocket, and swung his arm, feeling it connect, before he whirled to watch the flight of the cast-aside… second invisible man? Hyde simply stared in shock, and moved to step forward to pursue this stranger, before a sharp sensation twisted his gut.
"Oh bloody hell, not now, you worm!"
But it was too late, and before he could stop it – even as the invisible man scrambled upright and ran for the door with his prize – Edward was jerking and convulsing, his body shrinking in the large clothes. Before long, Henry was back in his place, collapsing to his knees as a nervous wreck, panting and shaking heavily, staring at the open doorway in dismay.
Another one? But how…?
An anguished groan from behind him made him turn, and he grasped at his trousers, swamped by the shirt and jacket. He tossed off the latter, wishing he could tear the sleeves to shorten them, and scrambled over to where it was evident Skinner was laying. He had grabbed part of the curtain, and it was shaking, and after a moment – as Henry Jekyll advanced – it was pulled free by the tight grip.
It fell down on Skinner as he gave a muffled yelp, and Henry thanked the odd occurrence. He could see the thief clearly now.
"Skinner, I'm so sorry!" he declared as he came up beside him, trying to determine just where the man was hurt. This was more difficult than the burns in Mongolia. There, for some reason – maybe because of the extensive exterior damage from flames – his wounded areas had become visible. This was not the case here, and he struggled to figure out what to do. "Please, lie still so I can help you."
Skinner didn't speak, but stopped trying to escape, perhaps having realised it was Henry and not Edward. Though Henry was terrified at having lost control to his alter ego and transforming without the elixir, he had other things to worry about right now. Skinner was injured, and needed help.
"Show me your wounded arm," Henry told the man, and the movement around the curtain showed he had indicated it. "All right…" He moved closer to help, shaking his head with a confused sigh. "Why didn't you tell us before, Skinner?"
Skinner just groaned, and thumped his head back.
