Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. As stated in 'Envenom', I was partaking in a Ficathon. My apologies. Won't happen again… until the next one XD

Angharad: Thanks very much!

Sawyer Fan: I'm glad you can abide the Tom/Mina, given that you're not a fan; that's flattering. Heh. I was green with envy just writing them, believe me! XD Thanks for the review!

queerquail Thanks for the review!

Drakena: Hehehehe. Your comment about the Mina/Quatermain thing is so true! So creepy O.O Gah. Shudder! And if you check the site now, after I did a massive update, that awesome picture is indeed up ;) Thanks for that, once again! And that mistake regarding the link was corrected too.

Marcus Lazarus: Thanks very much. I was hoping to get that reaction. I knew you'd like that Tom got in that killing blow ;) Very glad you approve.

Raven Silvers: Yay! Thanks very much! Horses and Tom is indeed… good. Very. ::nods:: Skinner's okay! Yay! Eeep. Please don't bring an angry mob after me! O.O

Tatsu: Tom/Mina-ness! Hooray! Aww, thanks for saying that blushes::

INMH: Whee! Tom/Mina! Heh, here's the continuation for you!

Sethoz: Thanks very much, buddy. Groovy is a cool word… should be used more XD

And now, on with the show! Chapter Fourteen of LXG2: Above & Beyond…


Thomas Marvel cursed and rambled, pacing back and forth on the common where it had all began. The only evidence of his being there was the impression on the dying grass and dirt that his bare feet made, and the mutterings of displeasure as he moved, back and forth, over and over again. He was still sore from that brute's attack on him as he'd retrieved the door key, but oh how he had revelled in the scream of pain from that snivelling bastard, Skinner, when Hyde – as he was known – had smashed the bone in his arm like kindling. A manic giggle escaped Marvel's lips as he grinned, eyes flashing with an insane pleasure at the thought of whether or not Hyde had carried on… but no, his delight was short-lived. He knew the brute – no matter how dumb – would figure out the belonging of the blame now. If only he hadn't been so desperate to escape! He should have just watched; silent as a mouse, as Hyde had had his way with the thief.

Just who did Rodney Skinner think he was? He thought he was worthy of such a miracle of science? What made him think something so ridiculously and insanely false? He was nothing but a worthless pickpocket, and he didn't deserve this power! It was all his, it always had been! He was the one who had gathered it for Griffin… him! Thomas Marvel!

It's all mine! And I'll have his head on a spike before the end!

Growling savagely, befitting a raging wolf, Marvel spun on his heel, and stormed away from the scorched common. His destiny awaited him, and he had no time to waste if he was to grasp it in both hands…


The steam puffed around the engine as it rattled into the station, its lazy journey grinding to a halt with the wail of the wheels on the track as the mechanics of the train started to slow to a complete stop, the whistle sounding firmly and almost deafeningly around the area. There were men on the platform, as deserted and litter-strewn as it was, and a rather noticeable rotund man was at the forefront, a prim handkerchief to his face to clear it from the steam and smoke.

Campion Bond looked positively panicked, but he was trying to hide it. Granted, he wasn't doing a very good job, but he was trying, and Mina supposed that was the main thing. She and her two male companions stepped down from their carriage, greeting the bureaucrat silently by standing before him stoically. Tom shouldered his rifle, looking every part the grim gunslinger, handsome and quiet, eyes ever-expressive and pensive. Mina refrained from smiling, with Quatermain taking up position to her right. He was holding his gun in his hands, proudly, waiting for someone to speak; either that, or near taking up the mantle himself.

Mina beat him to it with a simple, "Mr. Bond."

"Mrs Harker; Agent Sawyer; Mr. Quatermain," he returned simply through the cloth of his handkerchief, before he pulled it away slightly. The evidence of the train's industrious arrival was leaving the air, clearing it a little. "Y-you have H-142? The specimen has arrived safely without damage?"

Mina furrowed her brow. However would it have been damaged? It had been sitting, sedated, inside its crate for their entire journey from the South Downs. She had heard of no incident regarding the creature, which had been under heavy guard all the way back here, to the inner city of London. "Well… yes. I mean, I assume so…"

That was when she noticed the rather tense guards behind Bond, who had their gloved fingers rested readily on the triggers of their own rifles, ready to fire at the three members of the League as if they were a danger. Mina growled, and was moments away from letting her eyes wane a fluidic crimson, hearing the movements of the two gunmen to her sides.

"Thank god." Bond noticed as well then, with a jerk of his head over his shoulder to look at his men. "It's all right! There's no need to shoot us!" He looked a little alarmed, as if he did not have full control over his own men, a fact which unnerved Mina to some extent. "I repeat, they're all right!"

How very disconcerting. Somewhat edgy, these men. She made a mental note to keep her eye on them, and looked back to Bond, somewhat warily.

"Shoot us? What…?" Quatermain removed his own finger from the trigger of his gun, though with a measure of reluctance.

"It's nothing that need concern you," Bond said quickly, covering up the entire incident by quickly declaring orders to his men as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary. "Come on. Let's get that freight car unloaded, and for god's sake, be careful!"

Tom and Mina exchanged a suspicious glance, watching the unloading of the crate as if they expected the men to turn and attack at any moment. Mina noticed – somewhat thankfully – the position of Tom's own trigger finger and hand, even, around the guard and lever of his impressive rifle. At a moment's notice, he would drop that barrel and fire in defence, she knew, and she was grateful for that unspoken assurance. Under the brim of his hat, she could see the certainty of this – hopefully unneeded – action in his intense eyes.

"Bond, what's going on?" Quatermain was asking fiercely, moving apart from the two slightly. "Waterloo's deserted, except for your special services people…"

"So is London," Bond practically snapped, and his round face barely even turned in their direction. "Time's running out, Mr. Quatermain. Please excuse me."

Mina huffed, wrinkling her nose slightly at this rude behaviour. She may have been no prim-and-proper lady herself, but she was well aware of the proper conduct in polite company, and whilst circumstances certainly were grim, there was no need for this outburst. And he certainly was acting suspicious. They had every right to question, after all. They were somewhat out of the loop after their trip.

"That's it. Easy does it," Bond was muttering by the train carriage, observing the unloading with intense scrutiny, watching every movement his men made. Before long, the men had taken it out of the carriage, and cleared it from the train, onto a kind of long trolley for it to be wheeled away if necessary. There was still no movement from within the crate, and Mina eyed it with confusion. Should the creature not have awoken by now? It had been sedated for some time. Surely it was starting to rouse.

"Now, get the bloody thing over to Westminster. And whatever you do, don't drop it!"

Bond strode urgently away from his busy men, and turned once more to the League members. Mina narrowed her eyes pensively. This was all very strange. She did not understand it one bit, and she did not like confusion. It had never sat well with her. Tom was equally frustrated by her side, and it took a considerable amount of willpower to refrain from linking her hand in his. He still had his gun over one shoulder casually, eyeing the large man with a level of distaste that Mina understood only too well.

"What is it, Bond? You know, don't you?" Tom had apparently had enough of being the quiet spy off to the side, and there was a ferocious curiosity in his words that made Mina proud, almost. He clearly was not in the mood for waylaying. "You know what's in that crate…"

"Yes." Bond nodded curtly, abruptly, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary, looking to the American almost with boredom. "It's the answer to London's prayers, Agent Sawyer. And straw, I hope. Lots of straw."

Tom's face twisted into an expression of undeniable confusion, and Mina looked to him sympathetically. She did not understand either. Whatever straw had to do with this matter, she did not know, neither did she care. She just wished to know what a hybrid could do for their dying city, and their waning hopes.

"As for you three, come with me. We'll be joining your colleagues at London Bridge." With that, he began to stride, cane in hand – they hadn't even noticed that before – towards the streets and away from the platform. It was eerie to see the once-bustling and heaving London without its crowds and masses. It was dead; there was not a soul in sight, other than the small company that moved. There were some men following them with their bags, but they kept silent.

"Why London Bridge?" Tom asked. "Is the Nautilus there?"

"No, that's still trapped at Wapping. London Bridge is where the tripods are massed."

The three looked to each other, doubly alarmed. The Nautilus was trapped? Massed tripods? They certainly had missed quite a lot. Mina almost felt guilty, and she was sure Tom was frustrated; Quatermain too. They were men of action, and did not like to feel left out. Of course, she was no fragile flower, and felt quite the same way.

"Tripods? At London Bridge? We saw one out on the track on the way back from the South Downs. We destroyed it."

"Is that so?" Bond inquired, actually sounding rather flustered by this information. He paused for a moment, eyeing the trio incredulously, as though he refused to believe such a proclamation, before he seemed to realise just whom he was addressing. "Good work. At least we know they can be destroyed by conventional means." Of course, he was referring to their lack of heavy artillery, which they had clearly been using against the giant contraptions so far. Mina was unsure of the results this had garnered, but she hoped it was fruitful.

"So far, we've held them in South London, except one that landed at Primrose Hill."

Tom and Mina exchanged glances again, and Quatermain narrowed his intense eyes.

"That one was seemingly intended as a major manufacturing base, but luckily we incinerated it in its crater." Bond showed little pride in his explanation as they entered one of the larger streets, where a carriage was waiting, a rather grim driver poised on his perch. "Ah, well, here's our transport."

The man does have the infuriating habit of stating the obvious, Mina mused as they approached the carriage. The silent men followed behind Tom and Quatermain with the luggage.

Mina let her eyes wander, chilled by the silent streets, even as she uttered, "My god… where is everybody?"

"All evacuated," Bond imparted simply, heaving himself into the carriage, which rocked with his doing so. "If we can't hold them at the river, London's finished." Calling out of his little window, he announced to the driver, "The Bridge, Smithson. Quick as you can."

"Right you are, sir," the driver grunted as the League members climbed into the carriage, with their luggage firmly tucked away in the appropriate places. With a crack of his long whip, the horses jumped forward into a brisk pace, carrying its passengers swiftly to their destination.

"Why London Bridge?" Quatermain asked. "Can't those things use another bridge, or wade across the river?"

"Yes, well, messed that up for themselves, didn't they? Filled the Thames with this ghastly weed. That's what disabled the Nautilus."

At least now a piece of the puzzle was in place, but it still clouded their minds and confounded them.

"As for the bridges, Tower Bridge we raised, obviously. Most of the others we've blocked with rubble." Bond had removed his cigarette case from his jacket, Quatermain looking to him irritably. Mina and Tom sat across from the two older men, listening to the liaison prattle on. "Rotherhithe Bridge we blew up, along with the tripod that was on it." There was a brief pause, before he quickly included, "And the people of course."

Mina frowned heavily, and looked to Tom, who had closed his eyes for a few moments, his cap pulled from his head. She thought she heard him growl, but she wasn't sure, even with her heightened senses, it was hard to tell. She laid her hand on his to calm him, and saw him open his eyes, looking to her only briefly as they waited to see if Bond would continue.

Instead, it was Quatermain who spoke up, a kind of fury in his eyes as he said, "Bond, listen… that horde of monsters Moreau's creating–"

"Ah. You met his playmates, did you?" Bond had lit his cigarette by this point, and was smoking it to relieve his tension, obviously. "They're not important. Merely an eccentric hobby we tolerate."

Mina's eyes widened a little in alarm, and Tom stiffened in his seat. "W-we'd assumed they were his government project."

"Really?" Bond exhaled smoke from his cigarette, turning his head away almost politely to the window. "Why would we need subhuman brutes who've barely mastered English when we already have soldiers?" He was beginning to lean out the window as he continued, "No, it's the H-140 series we're interested in. If the rest become a problem, we'll probably euthanise them."

Mina narrowed her eyes again. Though she had been no fan of the animals Moreau had created, they were still living creatures. They were alive, and that was something that should be respected.

"Smithson?" Bond called out the window. "Here will do."

The carriage stopped moments after, and they exited briskly, leaving their luggage and hats inside. The carriage was evidently to stay and wait for them, as Bond signalled for the man to do so, should the situation become dire and escape be needed. They started to move through the soldier numbers, eyed curiously. Mina walked close beside Tom, he having helped her politely down with an offered hand from the carriage. It had been unnecessary, but she had smiled at the thoughtfulness of the young man she had found her affections for blooming. After that night in South Downs, she had expected everything to become thick with tension, and awkward, especially with the ever-observant Quatermain never far away… but it had only settled things between them. They were never far apart, and Mina was, for once, optimistic. She supposed that was Tom Sawyer's influence on her mindset. Having him close to her reminded her of why they needed to destroy the Martians. If they were allowed to roam free, the human race was doomed, and the League was the last defence. They had to fight.

"But…" Mina began suddenly, she and her spy companion – and even lover, she supposed – quickened their pace to catch up, with the vampire hitching her skirts irritably to allow the movement, "I mean, if the hybrid animals aren't important, then…"

"Then what was H-142? What was in that crate?" Tom had finished her sentence for her, his blonde hair bouncing around his handsome youthful face, his rifle at his left side as he walked next to Mina. His long coat flared out behind him, much with the faster-moving Quatermain's.

"That isn't your concern," Bond waved off with a gesture of his cane. "Now hurry! Your colleagues are waiting by the bridge-mouth fortifications."

They cleared the soldiers, moving briskly away from them, and Bond stalked up to the mouth of the bridge, or rather the wall near the river, where – supposedly – the rest of the League was standing. Even from where she walked, Mina was beginning to pick up their familiar scents… and there was one more than she would have thought.

Or liked.

Eyes widening slightly, she looked from Bond, to Quatermain, gaze finally landing on Tom, who seemed unfazed, obviously. He couldn't detect the scents that she could. Therefore, he was unaware of who was standing waiting for them. Did the others know? They had to be warned…

Bond had finished his journey, leading them to the bridge fortifications, and he stepped aside, revealing the other members of the team. Nemo and Jekyll turned their heads to the three arrivals, and there, between them, his arm inexplicably in a sling, dressed as she last remembered seeing him days ago, was Rodney Skinner.

Tom froze, eyes wide in terror, before in one fluidic stroke, the gun raised and cocked in a heartbeat, and levelled at the thief's face.