Author's Note: Many thanks to all who left reviews. It is very encouraging to hear people have been enjoying this - especially considering it's a lot of thought and not much action :D

Part Two

Ann could hear people moving about but she rarely caught little more of them than fleeting glimpses of them. It was like they were all hiding in the shadows and dark corners of the ship, afraid to be seen, not wanting to draw attention to themselves lest it make them the newest casualty of this trip.

Carl, it appeared, had drunk himself into a stupor destined to last most of the return journey. She wasn't sure if it was the effects of seeing so many people he knew die finally catching up with him, or just worry about what would happen when they got back. He was still a wanted man.

Preston crept through the corridors, a haunted expression on his face, his hand constantly clutching at the wound on his cheek that she knew would leave a scar. Captain Englehorn maintained a constant vigil at the helm, as though he trusted no one else to see them safely home. With his first mate gone he probably didn't. Bruce didn't dare brag about his own heroics to anyone, although she was sure some gentle coercion from the papers back in New York would change that.

And Jack kept changing cabins, as though he couldn't get comfortable in any one of them. They hadn't spoken a word since returning to the ship but she always knew where he was – whichever cabin he moved to he seemed to do nothing but type like a man possessed. She could hear the hammering of keys wherever she went.

Secretly she thought he'd have been more comfortable back in his cage, but that was occupied now.

Ann herself felt isolated and alone. No one would look at her, not directly. At first she thought it was guilt on their part – she had been more than vocal in her aversion to their capture of the animal, and it was obvious even to the most hardened sailors that she found it distressing. That she thought it was wrong. Slowly though she began to wonder if it was fear, not guilt that kept them so distanced from her. She knew the beast, had some sort of connection to it that they did not understand and did not sit well with their superstitious minds. No one wanted to tempt fate by being too close to her.

She didn't know what she dreaded more; staying here or getting home. Here she seemingly had nothing but herself and the crew's awkward, accusing glances. But what did she have to go home to? Manny would have left for Chicago by now. Everyone else she knew at the theatre would have dispersed elsewhere, to new jobs or places with better prospects for one. She had no job, no money, no friends. No home. She had nothing to show for this trip but bruises and a guilty conscious.

She had betrayed him.

The rational part of her mind knew that was a stupid notion. She hadn't wanted this. She hadn't knowingly led him into a trap. It wasn't like she'd done anything dreadful, just tried to leave. She couldn't have stayed here on this island with him for the rest of her life. She'd just wanted slip away quietly with Jack without causing any fuss. When Kong woke up she would've been gone and maybe he would've looked for her for a while, been a bit confused about the whole thing, but he'd have forgotten her. Eventually.

But it hadn't worked out like that. He had chased them in a fury. As they had been running through the dense, unforgiving jungle she hadn't been able to work out whether it was only Jack he was chasing with such ferocity, or whether his anger was directed at her too. If he had caught her, would she have ended up like the other sacrifices made to him? A broken pile of bones at the bottom of a cliff? What did he see her as? A toy? A possession? One of his family?

He had protected her, she knew that much. Saved her life at risk to his own. And she'd betrayed him. Unwittingly or not she had led him into the belly of the beast.

All she could remember was screaming and struggling, telling them to let her go, that it was her that he wanted. She didn't know what she was going to do if she got back to him. She didn't know how she'd make a twenty-five foot ape understand that she had to go back with her own kind, but her instinct had told her it was the only way to get him to back down. To make him safe the same way he had made sure she was.

He was intelligent, she knew he was. He wasn't just some huge dumb animal. He responded to her and her actions – he was amused by her performances, he sulked when she told him 'no', he got angry when she didn't do as he wanted and he protected her when she was in trouble.

And he could look at the sunset and find beauty in it.

He had thought she was in danger, that's why he'd gone so crazy. She was screaming and struggling, he thought that the men were trying to hurt her and it was his duty to protect. If only she could have made him understand.

She could hear the crew talk about 'the monster'. Some were worried. Yes, they had got it in the hold but it was too large to cage so they kept it tied and sedated and hoped for the best. A man with a rifle stood guard at the hold entrance, although she was pretty certain that was more to keep her and Carl out than the animal in. There were whisperings that the chloroform supply may run out before they got back. They couldn't risk it waking up – it'd likely go crazy and sink the ship. A small, deep part of Ann wished it would. It would solve an awful lot of her problems.

If she had her way she would've remained secluded in the relatively homely atmosphere of her cabin for the rest of the voyage. When she had first returned to the ship, she had found it still in the same state that it had been after her kidnap. Clothes, beauty products and books were everywhere. Thankfully the body of the sailor who had tried come to her aid when he heard her screams had been removed. The blood stain was still there though. She'd spent hours trying to scrub that away. She wasn't entirely sure if an outline of it still remained or if it was just her eyes playing tricks on her. She should have slept that night, but she spent most of the time tidying and repairing the best she could. It had taken her two days to get everything back in order, broken by fitful naps or the need to eat. She had felt much better once she had finished though; it was like tidying away one memory of all that had happened to her. But now, when she sat there too long with nothing to do - when she thought too much - she imagined she could hear the laboured breaths of the captive below.

Now she trod steadily down the oppressive, wood lined corridor. Jack had been right, she had developed good sea legs. The ship pitched and rocked on the rolling ocean and yet she moved with ease. The galley should be empty by this time of night. She could get herself something to eat and drink and then return to her cabin without running into anyone.

As she entered the room she frowned slightly to see a table and three mismatched chairs in, what for the past few days, had been empty space. Clearly someone had been trying to return things to some sense of normality in here. Or a workable state at least. She had a feeling things would never quite be the same on the SS Venture though.

Heading into the kitchen itself she came to a sudden halt two paces inside the door as she saw someone.

Jimmy.

He looked startled to see her. As though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Oh!" she muttered hurriedly, feeling awkward and unguarded, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

She shook her head in a distracted manner, not really knowing what she was apologising for.

"I'll go".

She turned to do just that before his voice stopped her.

"Miss Darrow?"

She looked back, strangely apprehensive.

"Here," he offered with a small smile, holding out a stained mug with what smelt like coffee in it, "It's not as good as Lumpy's but it is hot."

After a moment's hesitation she took it in slightly unsteady hands. Her first sip made her realise that it was in fact far better than Lumpy's coffee ever had been, but Ann decided that if she said so Jimmy would likely take it more as an insult to his friend than a compliment for himself.

"Thank you," she said after a second sip, a grateful smile gracing her face.

He smiled shortly in return before scuttling round her, in an oddly over fussy manner, heading over to the table and pulling out a chair.

"Here," he said, ushering her over there and virtually forcing into the seat, "You sit down and I'll fix you something to eat."

Without giving her time to protest, he hurried back into the kitchen. Ann could hear him hastily searching amongst the remaining pots and pans, his manner almost frantic as though he was afraid she might disappear if he didn't impress her fast. She turned in her seat, deciding not to get up in case he just pushed her back down again – her shoulders were bruised enough as it was.

"Really," she began, shaking her head, "That isn't necessary…"

She didn't want to be any bother to anyone. She'd put this crew through enough trouble as it was.

"We have potatoes," he assured in an almost nervous fashion, his head suddenly appearing the other side of the hatch way as though he hadn't heard her at all, "I could do you a bake potato."

He frowned.

"Would be a bit dry on its own though. Hang on."

He disappeared again.

"Please, Jimmy," Ann pleaded, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable at him trying to pamper her so, "You don't need to go to any trouble. I'm fine. It's….fine."

"Cheese!" he exclaimed, his head appearing again, again ignoring her protests, "I found cheese. It's a bit mouldy round the edge, but I'm sure it'll be okay on the inside, right?"

After a short pause she smiled at him gently, admitting defeat. Who was she to argue with that kind of enthusiasm? And it would be nice to talk to someone.

"Right," she agreed, "Thank you."

Ann didn't know much about Jimmy or where he'd come from, and from what she heard, neither did the crew. Most said they picked him up like some kind of stray. They joked about it. Wherever he'd come from though, she had a feeling he had been in a kitchen before. His cooking was up to scratch at least. The jacket potato he set in front of her was a little burnt around the edges but the inside was cooked perfectly.

"So," she said, trying not to grin at how deliberately and carefully he was eating in her presence, "What are you gonna do when we get back to New York?"

"Well, this ship needs repairing," he stated with an air of proud knowledge, as though at such young an age he was a world weary expert on the matter, "She's sea worthy right now but all that patching up we did down below ain't gonna last forever. She needs to be fixed proper."

"Is that another one of your skills then?" Ann teased lightly, "Cooking, sailing, ship repairing…"

He shook his head.

"Oh, no. But Mr Hayes always said I should learn a trade. He said I should be a skilled worker because they've got more prospects and stuff. I'm gonna try see if I can get an apprenticeship. They're always gonna need ship fitters and repairers, right?"

"Right," Ann agreed softly, although in truth she had no idea. Things were pretty rough whatever trade you were in right now, but she wasn't about to tell him that. He sounded so hopeful, so certain.

"What about you Miss Darrow?" he asked, "What are you going to do when we get back?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Try to find another acting job, I guess."

"There ain't much work for you theatre types at the moment then?" the young man asked with a frown.

Ann had forgotten how long he must have spent at sea and how out of touch he must be with the real world. She didn't know whether to pity or envy him.

"A lot of theatres have closed down," she explained, "People just don't have the money to go see shows at the moment so no one has the money to put them on."

He nodded in understanding. He may not be well educated but she could tell he was always learning. He was the type who absorbed every bit of information.

"Hey," he said brightly after a moment's thought, "Why don't you ask Jack? I'm sure he's got loads of plays you could be in."

Ann felt the blood drain from her cheeks slightly.

"No. No, it's okay. I don't think Mr Driscoll has anything for me right now."

If Jimmy noticed how uncomfortable the mention of Jack had made her he was good enough not to let it show.

"Well, don't you give up," he said encouragingly, trying to sound like someone far beyond his years, "Mr Hayes always said that if you got real talent at something people can't take that away from you and you'll always come out on top in the end."

Ann looked up at him from over the brim of her coffee mug.

"He meant a lot to you, didn't he? Mr Hayes?"

There was silence for a moment. Jimmy's gaze dropped to the table, his fork suddenly playing listlessly with his food rather than eating it.

"He's was a good man," he said eventually, "I respected him."

Ann could see how torn he looked – an unsettling mixture of man and boy, struggling with giving measured response of a man who had lost a trusted colleague and mentor, and the emotional reaction of a boy who had lost a father figure.

He leant across the table a little, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I've been saving, you see," he began, almost an admission of something he seemed afraid to say out loud, "Putting my wages aside. I was gonna go to school. Learn business stuff so we could make some real money for once."

Ann struggled to maintain her own composure, swallowing hard as his voice cracked a little.

"I never even told him," he said, looking troubled, "It was gonna be a surprise."

On instinct she reached across the table and took his hand, running her thumb comfortingly over the back of it.

"I'm sorry," she soothed in a pained whisper.

He shook his head softly, in a horribly empty manner, "Weren't your fault, Miss Darrow."

"See, that's the problem," she replied with a weak smile, "I feel like it is."

He squeezed her hand tightly in return. Too tight.

"No. It weren't you," he said firmly, a sudden cold malice in his tone that felt all wrong, "It was that monster. But we got him. And he ain't gonna hurt anyone anymore. We beat him."

The unexpected feral look in his eyes made Ann's stomach tighten and she backed away a little, removing her hand from his grasp. She suddenly understood what the crew meant when they said Jimmy could be as wild as some of the animals they carried.

"That's what we do here, you see," he continued forebodingly, "We catch the monsters and put 'em on display so everyone can see them and not be afraid anymore. They think they can win. They think they can cut us down, but we always get them in the end."

Ann swallowed into her suddenly dry throat. There was a darkness to Jimmy, Hayes had been right. But it wasn't brought out by who he was or what had happened to him, but what had happened to his friend. It was a desire for revenge.

"Miss Darrow?" he asked with a small frown, the sinister look on his face having disappeared entirely, "Are you alright?"

She nodded too quickly.

"Fine," she lied, "Just tired."

"Well you can sleep sound on here," he said brightly, patting the back of her hand in a reassuring manner as he got up to clear the table, "You're safe from him now."

"Yes," she whispered hollowly, her eyes carefully watching his progress back into the kitchen, "No more running from the monsters."

Ann made her way along the now familiar corridor with careful footsteps. Maybe this late at night they would leave him unguarded, think that she was asleep and so there was no need for such vigilance. Or maybe she could just sneak past the man with the rifle. She was quick and agile. If she could just distract him for a moment she could be down there before he even noticed. She didn't want to cause any trouble, she just needed to make sure that he was all right, that they were treating him okay.

She was so pre-occupied with planning that it didn't register that the sound she could hear were voices heading in her direction until they were no more than a few feet away and quickly gaining. It was Carl and Preston, the New York accents unmistakable. So far she had deftly avoided Denham. From what she'd overheard he was planning on producing some kind of gigantic show and wanted her in it. Ann didn't want to see him until she wasn't quite so exhausted and had a straight enough mind so she could tell him what she really thought of him and where he could stick his show.

With barely a thought she opened the door to the nearest cabin and slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind her. She pressed her ear hard to door, listening to the muffled conversation of Carl's outlandish ideas and Preston's reasoned objections. Some things never changed.

When their footsteps were completely out of earshot she let out the breath she'd barely been aware she'd been holding. That was too close. She was smarter than that, she had to be more careful.

She turned to go, wanting to hurry up in case they came back this way, but was stopped in her tracks when her eyes fell on something her brain hadn't even considered.

The cabin was occupied.

Jack.

For a moment she was frozen rigidly to the spot, a mixture of horror, embarrassment and alarm paralysing her. She relaxed just the slightest bit when she realised that he was in fact fast asleep, his eyes closed and his breathing deep and gentle. He was lying face down on the small bunk that must be uncomfortable for such a tall man. His head was resting in his folded arms and his bare back was on display. It was mottled with angry looking bruises and vicious cuts and scrapes that didn't seem to sit well with the peaceful, dreamless look on his face.

In everything else that had happened she kept forgetting that he had come to rescue her. That he had kept going when everyone else had given up on her and turned back. He wouldn't write her off as dead until he knew for sure. He couldn't. It was like something out of one of his plays.

But as much as she wanted him to he didn't understand. He couldn't. All he'd seen of Kong was a big angry animal that had tried to kill him.

And try as she might, all she kept seeing when she looked at Jack was one of 'them'. The 'others'. The faceless crowd who didn't care what happened to something beautiful.

She moved a little closer.

Maybe she'd been right when she spoken to Denham back in that café. She didn't believe in love after all. She didn't trust it. It was doomed. It only really belonged in plays and films where people could ride off into the sunset and in your mind you could imagine they lived happily ever after because that's what you wanted to believe.

As stupid as it seemed, she'd been in love with Jack Driscoll before she'd even met him. Every word he'd ever written spoke to her in a way no other writer did. That he confessed to loving her back had been some kind of bizarre fairytale. She'd been so wary of it at first, not believing it could be real. That wasn't the way things worked out for her. She was just a vaudeville actress who'd lucked her way into a movie. It shouldn't be possible, But she'd let herself be drawn in by him and for a few brief moments everything was wonderful.

It seemed so faded now.

"Good things never last," she muttered softly to herself, not for the first time in her life seeing the truth of those words.

Jack's eyes instantly flew open, even though she knew he couldn't have possibly heard that. His gaze fixed straight on her like she was some kind of beacon. Ann jumped back at least a foot, banging roughly into the door.

He sat up sharply, hurriedly pulling the sheet around him.

"Ann, I…," he stuttered, blinking in surprise and sleepy headed confusion, "What….Why are you here?"

She flailed helplessly for words, wishing something would come out of her rapidly opening and closing mouth. When nothing did she turned sharply, stubbing her toe painfully on the door as she hurriedly searched for the handle and escape.

He stood up, seemingly having regained some of his composure.

"Jeez, are you okay?" he asked, moving towards her with genuine concern in his expression, "Do you wanna sit down?"

"I'm…Er…I..I got lost," she stammered, her brain still working on answering his previous question, "I…erm….No….No thanks. Sorry…"

To her overwhelming relief her hand finally settled on the door handle and in moments she was fleeing down the corridor. She didn't leave her room again that night, thoughts of visiting Kong the last thing on her mind.