Author's Note: Took me long enough, but… it's an update, right? Better than nothin' smiles, and then cowers::
angel-flame Glad I could make you laugh. I have no idea about the phrasing either, but it's just something that happened. I apologise if it didn't sit right.
Artemis Gray: Thanks for the review.
Marcus Lazarus: Gray will forever be so confident and cocky. As for the Mina thing, you'll see. Hope this one wasn't too long. But from looking at the date on your review… it's been nearly A MONTH?! My god hangs head in shame:: Ugh.
LotRseer3350: Thanks for the review. Here's the update.
Scifirogue-klutz: I'm glad you love the Americans. Huck is my favourite out of them too hugs her Huckleberry senseless:: Of course, the fact that I've based the guy on Breckin Meyer helps too… hehehehe. Can't help but love him, and I do favour him somewhat in the story, as you might have noticed.
Capt. Cow: I like that you found it exciting. Tom is indeed getting a little grumpy. He can't seem to help it, and that just… happened, writing-wise. Heh, nice threat XD
Sethoz: Joe… worried? Hmm. Don't be worried about Joe. At least, not so much that you have to smite me. Glad you like him anyway. Here! I updated! Don't hurt me for the wait…
Xaviere Jade: Sorry you weren't as satisfied with the last update. Hope this one's better.
elvenmalka523: I'm glad you like the story, and thanks for the review.
BloodMoonLycan: Thank'ee, pal. Heh, glad you like Dorian – as much as you can with his attitude. Tom is being a bit… quirky, isn't he? And if you weren't nuts, you wouldn't be the person I know and love, so don't shut up XD I love it. Your ramblings make me laugh.
tonianne Thanks, thanks and thanks. Here's the new chapter XD
Drakena the Destroyer: Henry is a good silent observer. It just fit for him to do that.
kingleby You found it funny that he sipped his tea? Hehehehe. Tom is always trying to be optimistic, yes… someone's got to.
And now, the new part of Ghosts of Old…
The darkness had settled into her, eating away at her mind, and she had taken to sitting in the corner. The bed had disgusted her for some odd reason, bringing back unwelcome memories of other times with Gray. She did not wish to recall those incidents, and she thought that avoiding the bed might help.
It had, but only to the degree of discomfort. She could have cared less, but she did not wish to think about Gray at all. She only wished to think about pushing down the hunger that was gnawing at her faster than it normally would. But then… she couldn't remember the last time she had fed.
Mina cursed herself for her forgetfulness then, at having not taken the time to eat in either Missouri or London. It shouldn't have been something she would forget, but… she had. And now it was revisiting her, cruelly, and twisting her mind to urging. She had only suffered this kind of hunger once or twice in her vampirism, and she despised it. It made her feel like an animal… a savage.
But then, that was what Gray wanted.
In the dark, huddled in the corner, Mina growled weakly.
The stateroom where they dined and discussed as a team was unnervingly quiet, and Skinner hated it. He had always despised awkward silences, and this was about as awkward as they came. He cleared his throat quietly, for no real reason other than to break said silence, and then froze, slapping his forehead with his gloved palm as if cursing his stupidity for not thinking of it before. He grumbled to himself, eyes squeezed shut for his ignorance to the obvious.
"Mr. Skinner?" came Nemo's ever calm voice, and the thief lowered his hand, looking around the room. Everyone's gaze was turned in his direction, and he suddenly felt a little sheepish. "Is something the matter?"
"Um… not exactly. I just realised I might have an idea, that's all," Skinner revealed, shuffling on his feet, embarrassed about his outburst.
Silence descended on the room again, and it was young Sawyer who cocked his head and asked bluntly, "Well? What is it?"
Skinner mouthed an 'oh', and shook himself out of his stupor, saying, "Well, this is my old haunt. I used to live here, after all, and I know my way around." He smiled somewhat slyly. "And one other thing I know is the others of my kind. And by that, I mean the thieves, and the snitches… no offence to myself intended."
Becky Thatcher smiled wanly at him for that, and he returned it politely.
"I know where they can be found, the ones to trust, and just who'll know what we need to know… if you catch my drift." He met gazes with Tom, and waited for the young man's reaction.
It was a few moments, with exchanged glances and bated breath before Tom smiled. "Good thinking, Skinner. Looks like all that pick pocketing came in handy after all, huh?"
"I'll have you know I made a decent livin' by picking the pockets of snobs, thank you very much." He attempted to act offended, but grinned instead, an expression Tom returned.
"Sure you did, Skinner."
The thief chuckled to himself quietly, and he nodded proudly, just glad that he could help. After all, better late than never, right?
Huck strode after the League as they made their way to the mapping room, though he didn't know why they needed a map of London when it was evident Skinner had been there before… and even lived there. Also, Tom was familiar with the terrain. But with the knowledgeable and experienced thief leading the way, how could they get lost? It seemed… well, stupid was one way he'd like to put it.
They swept collectively into the room, with Huck finding his shadow-like place next to Tom instantly and seemingly automatically, and the two agents crossed their arms over their chests as Nemo pulled out the appropriate papers. He rolled them out over the slanted table, providing a view for all, and Skinner stepped forward, nodding approvingly of the maps. He started to trace his fingers over them, the gloved tips sliding this way and that, until he poked the paper gently, saying, "Here's a good spot. There's a gang I used to run with known as 'The Hammersmith Circle'. They're good, and I mean bloody good. Wasn't with them long, because of the 'hierarchy' and rubbish, but… you get the idea. These are our guys. They'll get us what we need, if not direct us to someone who can."
Tom nodded, and Huck waited and watched, for the continuation he knew was to come.
"And are these men dangerous?" Jekyll asked curiously and with concern.
"In their own ways, but only if you double cross them, or hold out. Neither o' which I'm plannin' to do. I know these guys; I know how to act around 'em, and by going out myself, I can guarantee at least a lower level of hostility. We didn't part on bad terms." Skinner seemed the most confident Huck had ever seen him, and that was comforting.
"So… who's goin'?" Joe found himself asking, feeling he already knew the answer, it seemed. The way he balanced with his crutches next to Becky – who appeared ready to catch him – was testament to his obviousness of being overlooked for such an endeavour, and Huck hoped he would understand.
"Other than me?" Skinner asked, and opened his mouth to say something that the youngest spy thought would be 'no one'.
Tom, however – and naturally so – had other ideas. "Me."
"And me," Huck threw in without a pause between their declarations, and smiled in a crooked manner. "Just try and keep me – us – away, Skinner."
Skinner looked at a loss, and sighed in a defeated manner. "No point, really, is there? Not when there's two of you to battle off. Gotta warn you though, they're not keen on strangers."
"But like you said, they know you. If push comes to shove," Huck began with a shrug, "we can just wait outside, right?"
Skinner considered this, and furrowed his brows behind his perched pince-nez. "Sounds fair to me." Glancing to the others around the room, and seeing their apparent agreement, Skinner nodded. "So we have a plan."
Tom smiled, as did Huck. Finally, they seemed to be getting somewhere.
About time.
Becky chewed lightly on her bottom lip outside the door, pacing slowly and methodically back and forth, her slight brow knitted thoughtfully and with worry, and she sighed in irritation, uncrossing her arms from around her lean body, and then turned, opening the door and striding in.
Tom turned to her at once, in the middle of buttoning a fresh shirt after what had obviously been a bath or – something she had heard Tom refer to – a shower… whatever one of those was. She wasn't entirely sure, though she had a vague idea in her mind. But to save face, she hadn't asked.
"Becky," he said simply, and blinked in surprise, hands falling from his unfinished task… which distracted the woman for a bit.
Mentally slapping herself across the face for her train of thought, she said in return, "Tom."
"Did you want something?" he asked with a cocked head and furrowed brow.
Becky was a little thrown by his question, the likes of which he had never really had to ask before, and with a curt nod, she squared her shoulders as best she could and confirmed, "Yes, I do."
Tom simply stood, waiting. Becky let the silence drag on for a little bit, though she wasn't sure why, before she blurted, "I want you to… not go."
Tom frowned and looked perplexed. "Why?" he asked, truly confused, or so it seemed from his tone of voice.
"Don't you already know why?" she asked, again, taken aback by the confusion he was showing as to how she was behaving. Recently, he had shown an understanding that was becoming a lover. Now though… she was starting to wonder. "Isn't it obvious why?"
"Would I ask if it was that obvious?" he inquired quietly as he turned his back on her, something that bewildered her further. She had always been the one to turn her back on him, not the other way around. Something was wrong here.
"Are you angry with me?" Her voice lacked the conviction she had been aiming for, and she internally cringed at the weakness in her voice.
"Becky," he began, almost impatiently, rolling up the sleeves on his shirt without a glance in their direction. It was habit for him now, she knew. "Why, of all people, would I be angry with you?"
Something in her mind flared, and she had no choice but to heed its call to be spoken. "Perhaps because if it hadn't been for me, Mrs. Harker never would've given herself up."
Tom turned to her then, once again, and his eyes were narrowed in what she assumed to be confusion. He had finished rolling up his sleeves, and now just looked perplexed, standing stock still as he faced her. "What is that supposed to mean? Why would I be angry with you about that? That couldn't be helped, and it was her choice."
Becky shook her head. "Well you're angry about something, Tom, and I just wanna know what it is."
"Dorian," Tom said simply and with a slight growl, as he snatched his waistcoat from the back of the desk chair. "That's all. It's just that bastard is always somehow messing things up."
Becky fell quiet for a few moments; though she was certain there was more to it than a simple 'I hate Dorian Gray'. She could associate with that, yes, but that didn't mean she had to accept it as the whole truth. "Tom," she began tentatively as she walked up to him, "tell me what's bothering you. Please. You used to confide in me…"
Tom finished pulling on his waistcoat, and looked her in the eye. "You're determined to find something wrong with me, aren't you?" For a few seconds he smiled, and then added blankly, "Do you wanna try and 'fix me', is that it?"
"Pardon?"
"Your whole life, Becky, you wanted to try and fix other people's problems. You were always askin' the questions and offering the solutions that people might not have wanted to hear. But you never really thought about that. No one ever said anything either, 'cause they didn't want to offend you, but… not everything can be fixed!"
Becky was taken aback by his words, and she tried to find some sort of reason in them. She found none and furrowed her neat brow. "I don't understand. I just want to help you, Tom, if you'll let me."
"Well, I'll feel better when Gray's dead. Can you help with that?"
Becky frowned. She didn't like him acting this way. She had never seen him like this before really.
"I didn't think so." He was pulling on his pistols now, putting them in place, and checking the guns were loaded. She watched him discreetly, standing just in front of him, trying to think of something – anything – to say. Nothing came to mind.
"Becky," he began, softer, "listen." He sighed. "It's just… Gray nearly killed us all before, and now he's got Mina."
Becky paid close attention – perhaps without realising – to how he said that name, and she looked up at him. She had listened in the stateroom as well, to his vehement proclamations that they save her. Her eyes narrowed slightly again, and she found herself asking, "What do you really think of her? Of Mrs. Harker?"
"What?"
"You heard me, Tom."
Their eyes were locked intensely, and neither wavered.
"She's my friend, Becky, and she's helped me while I've been with the League." He tugged down on the holsters to ensure they were secured, and then grabbed his coat from the rack. "That's all." He picked up his hat, and left the room.
Becky watched him go, not entirely sure how she should feel about his words. Was he telling the truth? Was he being honest with her, or had the old Tom Sawyer and his lies come back?
Was there more to his feelings about Mina Harker than met the eye?