Author's Note: I decided to write out the Latin section into regular English to spare my poor readers. It's been years since I've had beginning Latin and, if my French conjugation is any example, I'd probably just butcher the sentences.
Five Hours in Ye Old London
Chapter 3: What to Do With a Problem Like Ashley?
"Perhaps introductions are in order?" James asked in a hoarse voice.
Helen cut John off, announcing, "I don't think that's a good idea" as she shook her head.
"And why not?" James asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at the older version of his beloved Helen.
Beside him, the younger version of Helen pulled away from his arm and, crossing her arms across her chest indignantly, added, "Yes, why not?" She was starting to get her wits back and was annoyed that events were still out of her control. Her older version was frankly a bit bossy. Who was she to tell herself [the younger version of herself] what she could and could not do?
She had barely grasped the concept that her and Druitt child's had been born at some point and then died, only to be reborn again. And now, in front of her, was that very child, bookended by both of her parents, staring back at her inquisitively. She had just learned the child's name – Ashley – and wanted to know everything else about her. She wanted to touch her child again. To reconfirm that she was real and not a figment of a really horrible day.
The older version of Helen recognized the emotions passing through the eyes of her younger counterpoint and sighed. She knew herself and how stubborn she could be. Young Helen had gotten a taste of motherhood and wanted to know more. Two mothers and one child could make for a messy confrontation.
"The timeline has already been altered somewhat. We need to be careful about any more changes that might cause more serious repercussions to the timeline," Helen said slowly and carefully.
James sniffed. "That the best you can do, Helen?" While intellectually he could understand her good intentions, emotional he sympathized with the younger version that stood next to him lost in emotional turmoil. If he were in her shoes he would want to know his child too. Timeline be damned!
The two women's face off was interrupted by Druitt, who still had the child in his arms. "Our daughter's unexpected presence has already altered the timeline. Surely it cannot do more harm to introduce her?"
"Who, me?" Ashley quipped up, turning her head to look at her dad.
Their eyes at the same level, John's mouth turned up at the corner in a half smile and he said, "Yes, you." Her beautiful blue eyes, a color brighter than her parents, sparkled back at him.
"John," Helen said in a low warning tone, "this might cause problems we are not prepared to deal with."
"Such as!" her younger counterpart challenged. She could appreciate her older version's concern but frankly didn't care right now. She wanted to know the child she had to have frozen years ago due to Druitt's insanity. And here he was now, seemingly sane and clutching that child. It didn't seem fair.
Before Helen could answer herself, John gave her younger version a piercing look as he said to the one kneeling next to him, "Perhaps you are right." He held up his hand to stop the younger version's protest. "Let me explain." Standing, John placed his hands on Ashley's shoulders to keep her next to him. Helen rose with him and moved a little closer to her family.
James noted the protective stance they were taking, as did the Helen standing next to him. She stiffened. The air was becoming more tense by the minute.
In the background, Nikola rolled his eyes at the little family drama unfurling and turned back to his work. It looked like if they were going to get home anytime soon it would be up to him.
John, staring at the blonder version of his Helen, carefully chose his words. "You, as a Victorian, are used to the concept of 'children are to be seen, not heard.' Ashley has never been a part of that world. She speaks her mind and has yet to grasp the concept of censoring her thoughts or words… sometimes much to her parent's chagrin." Both parents smiled at that as the child between them looked confused.
"Huh?" Ashley asked her dad, looking up at him. He lightly tickled her, causing the little girl to giggle and squirm in his arms.
"The point is," Helen interjected, "there is a good chance that she will say or do something that may alarm or concern you. You may also find our manner of parenting very foreign to you. We live in an entirely different world with a different set of rules."
John took over. "We are worried that something may occur that might cause you to…" he placed his large hands tightly over Ashley's ears so she could not hear, "possibly decide not to follow through with the pregnancy on schedule and therefore disrupt the correct timeline."
He ignored Ashley's complaint of "Daddy!" and her attempts to peel his hands away from her ears. "She must be born on schedule. She is very important to us," he insisted.
He released his hold then and allowed his daughter to grab his hands into hers. "Daddy, why did you do that," his daughter pouted, giving his an unhappy look.
"And when would the correct time be?" the younger Helen asked. She could see the point they were making, though she certainly couldn't imagine the child doing anything that would cause her alter Ashley's birth. Well, perhaps she would want to have her sooner, maybe?
There was a moment of silence as Helen and John looked at one another, trying to decide what answer would be given.
"1985," she finally answered. She didn't want to tell her but thought it might be more dangerous not to. "It's important that you wait that long."
James and younger Helen both gasped. "That long?" she cried in distress, staring down at the child who was becoming increasingly more restless with the boring adult conversation. The thought of waiting over a century to hold her baby stung her hard.
John solemnly nodded. "It's important you keep to the correct timeline. Deviations could be disastrous to her safety."
"I'm sorry but it has to be then," Helen gently told her. She felt tears start to prick at her eyes as well. All the pain she had suffered for a century while she waited for it to be safe to have her child came back to haunt her. It had been so difficult to wait.
Beside her, John's face fell and his head bowed. He knew it had been his fault that Helen had to endure such a long wait for Ashley's birth and that knowledge would haunt him for the rest of his life. As did his first meeting with Ashley.
Abruptly, Ashley let go of his hands and ran behind him, smacking both of her hands on his butt and making him gasp loudly in surprise. "Daddy, I'm bored. Let's play!" She began pushing on his butt to get him to move.
John, along with the other adults, grinned and turned halfway around to look at his daughter. She grinned up at him and then noticed the bulge in his left pocket. "Do you have candy?" she asked hopefully and patted his pocket.
"Candy?" John repeated and then his eyes grew wide as he stared at her. He swung back around to turn to his right and gave Helen an alarmed looked.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
Before he could answer, Ashley managed to get her hand into his pocket and pull out a metallic item with a pointed end. "What kind of candy is this?" she asked, her nose crinkled up in bewilderment.
Upon seeing what was in her hand, Helen and James both gasped at the same time.
"What's wrong?" younger Helen said loudly. She had no idea what the item was. "It's not a knife, is it?" she cried out in alarm and quickly ran over to John's side, planning to take the item from the child.
John managed to grab it from Ashley's hand as she tried to shake it to get some candy to fall out. "Daddy!" she cried and tried to jump up to get it from his hand. "I want the candy!"
"It is not candy," he sternly told his daughter as she clutched at his coat and then "Nor a knife!" to the furious blonde trying to take it from his hand. He reached over to hand it to the older version of Helen.
"Oh my God," she gushed. "I totally forgot about that." She looked back at her daughter, her eyes wide with concern.
"What is it!" her counterpart demanded, completely frustrated that no one was telling her what was going on. Obviously it was something dire, judging from the reaction of the child's parents.
"Helen, calm yourself," James instructed as he came up beside her. "It's okay. In all the excitement with Ashley's arrival it seems we have forgotten an important detail which can now be rectified." He looked at John and older Helen for confirmation. "Correct?"
The blonde turned to James, brows deeply creased. "What detail? Tell me, James, or I shall go mad!"
In Latin, John clued her in. "The vaccination for the radiation sickness that occurs when going through the time portal. We need to give her the shot. It had slipped my mind until she pulled it out of my pocket."
"Mine too," Helen added, also in Latin. The last thing they wanted was to alert their stubborn child that a shot was coming her way. Ashley did not like shots, any way, anyhow. If she knew one was coming she would probably try to high tail it down the hall. Helen looked at John and made a slight motion towards their daughter.
He nodded, reached down and picked up the still protesting child, who was now trying to pull another one out of his pocket, and placed her on the tall table behind them.
Ashley stopped trying to picket pocket from her father and glanced around. All types of boxes and neat looking items were piled around her. She reached for the nearest box as her father said in a deep voice, "Careful!" and he began sweeping the items from her reach. Ashley managed to grab one of the items from a box and held the skull up to inspect it. "Hey, we have one of these!" she exclaimed and grinned at the skull. It was quite a sight – the child's face and the creature's skull only two inches from one another. She closed one eye and peered into one eye of the skull.
While her parents were amused, there was work to be done. "Be careful with that," her mother instructed as she moved to the other side of her daughter. She positioned the pointed end near Ashley's neck and nodded solemnly to John. He braced one hand across to the child's other side to protect her from falling forward off the tall table and placed his second hand on the back of the skull.
Helen took advantage of the girl's distraction to push the needle into her neck. "Dadd…" Ashley began then stopped as her eyes got big and her mouth formed an "O" shape.
John caught the skull as it slipped from Ashley's grasp and cringed, expecting her shriek to blow out his ear drums. He felt the warm body of the other Helen pressed against his back as she peered over his shoulder.
Older Helen managed to hide the item behind her back as Ashley cried "OW!" and turned to give her mother a death glare. "Don't do that again, mommy!"
"I'm sorry, darling," Helen replied and reached out to stroke Ashley's cheek. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing at the sight of her daughter's creased forehead, pouty lips and flashing angry eyes. Even at six, Ashley's pissed off look was the same as when she was 26.
"That went better than I expected," John piped up and got a similar death glare from his daughter before she grabbed the skull back from him with a loud sniff.
"That wasn't nice," she grumpily said and swung her little legs back and forth angrily.
One corner of John's mouth turned up in a small smile as he said to Helen in Latin, "Maybe we'll get lucky and the second round will go as smoothly." Though she didn't understand what her dad just said, Ashley still looked up at him and gave him another death glare. "Or perhaps not," he said, amused at his grumpy little child. She was so much like her parents.
"You have to do another one?" a strong English voice said in Latin in his ear. John turned his head and almost smacked foreheads with younger Helen, who was still peering over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at her, his smile widening, and the apples of her cheeks bloomed bright pink. She backed away and moved before the child before anyone could stop her.
Helen quietly placed the used shot behind a box as she answered her younger version in Latin. "When we get back. It has to be done each time one goes through the time portal. The radiation poisoning is fatal otherwise." She looked at Druitt and asked in a tight voice, "How many do we have left?" She didn't know what they were going to do if there was not enough to get them home. She, and she knew John, would sacrifice their own vaccination for their child.
"Luckily, five, so you can breathe again," he said softly, taking in her tense and grim expression. "Four for us and one to spare. Bless Adam's black little heart."
Helen hadn't known she was holding her breath until she exhaled loudly and place a hand to her throat. This had been such a crummy day.
"Why is everyone talking funny?" Ashley demanded, looking from one to another. "I can't understand what you're saying." The adults all grinned at her. "What?" she said, swinging the skull out in her hand.
"Careful," both Helens said at the same time. James and John laughed aloud and grinned at one another.
"I am," the child proclaimed, bottom lip still protruding in a pout. She brought the skull back to her face to look at it again. "Hey, this one isn't missing a tooth like ours is," she observed.
"That's because a certain little girl hasn't dropped it yet," her mother said and took the skull from her grip before Ashley could stop her.
"Hey! I was looking at that," the child whined and glared at her mom.
"And now you're done," her mom smartly retorted.
"We're going to have to find something to keep you preoccupied while the adults finish up a little project," John told his daughter.
A high pitched voice called from the back of the room. "That would be good because I could use a little help back here. You know, so we can go home! I know I'm great and all but I could still use some muscle with this thing," Tesla sarcastically called to them.
Ashley suddenly perked up. "I want to play dress up like Mommy and her," she said as she pointed to the blonde lady. That caught everyone off guard. She turned to her mother and, whispering loudly enough for the adults close to her to hear, pointed to the lady in front of her. "She said she wasn't a princess but I don't believe her. She's got a princess dress on. But she said she doesn't have a crown." The last part was said in a disappointed tone.
The adults all grinned. "She isn't a princess," her mother said as she stroked her daughter's cheek again. Honestly, Ashley could be so adorable at times.
"Then who is she?" Ashley asked, staring ahead, making the younger Helen the center of everyone's attention. "She looks just like you mommy except her voice is funny." She tilted her head to the side in appraisal and smiled again, dimples on full display. "She has yellow hair like me though."
The blonde lady smile sweetly at her and her eyes got watery. Her daughter had such adorable dimples, just as John had mentioned.
Not sure what to say, Helen glance at John before telling her daughter, "Well, she's sort of… um…"
"Family," James answered. He gave the child a smile and continued. "That's why you both have blonde hair. It's a family trait. The funny English accent is apparently not." He gave John and Helen a smug look and they both laughed.
Ashley brightened. The pretty lady was related to her. "Are you like a cousin?" she asked.
"Sure, let's go with that," her dad smoothly answered and shrugged. Both Helens nodded their agreement.
The child grinned. "Great. I don't have any cousins so you'd be the first." She looked at Watson. "Are you my cousin too?"
"You could say we're all family in one way or another," her mother said.
Ashley giggled as James half bowed to her and introduced himself. "My name is James. I have known your parents for a long time. Long before you were born."
"You're funny," she giggled again, then looked at the blonde. "What's your name?"
"Um," the blonde answered and looked to her older version for instruction.
"We have the same name," Helen said softly. "It's a family name."
"Cool," the girl said. "My name's not Helen though. It's Ashley Amelia Druitt-Magnus. It's a really long name," she complained, her little nose crinkling up. "It takes forever to spell out."
"Are you still cold?" young Helen asked the child. "I have a shawl down here if you would like."
Helen held up a hand to stop her. "Cool is a modern expression that means 'interesting.' Believe me, if she was cold she would let you know most loudly. Ashley is not shy about saying what is on her mind or what she wants."
"Oh," the younger lady said and looked back at the child. The more she watched her, the more enthralled she became. To think, this beautiful creation was hers. She had always expected her child to be lovely but she had completely underestimated how beautiful the little one would be.
Pulling on her dad's jacket collar, Ashley ordered, "Daddy, I want down." She giggled as her dad tickled her before lifting her down.
Once on the ground, Ashley went up to the blonde lady and began feeling her dress. It was deep plum velour with cream trimmings. Her small fingers lingered over the delicate cream roses around her waist. "I like your dress," she shyly told Helen as she looked up at her.
Young Helen's heart melted and she reached down and stroked the child's head. "Thank you," she said in a choked up voice. She just wanted to scoop the child up and crush her to her chest and never let her go.
"Are you sure you're not a princess?" Ashley tried once again. It would be really neat if her cousin turned out to be a princess.
All the adults laughed. The child certainly was persistent young Helen thought as she grinned down at her. "I promise, I am not a princess. I am a doctor though."
"I could still use a little help back here," an annoyed voice called loudly. "Any day now!"
"I'll go," James told the group. "Otherwise he'll never stop squawking." He and John shared a smirk before he departed.
Ashley grinned proudly. "My mommy is a doctor too! It must be another family trait." Both Helens grinned at one another.
The child suddenly pushed on the full plum skirt, causing the blonde to have to plant her feet apart to keep her balance.
"Ashley!" her parents reprimanded in unison.
She looked up at her new family member. "How do you make your skirt so big?" she asked in earnest. "My tutu is big but it doesn't swing like your skirt does."
"Tutu?" the lady asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.
"The pink frill around her waist," John explained. "She's wearing the ballet outfit she got for her upcoming birthday."
Smiling wide, young Helena finally understood the child's odd clothing. "Oh, I see."
"She can't decide if she wants to be a princess or a ballerina when she grows up," her mother explained with a big grin. She loved how girly Ashley was at this age. Too soon she would be grown up, dressed in tight black leather and wanting to shoot anything that annoyed her.
Ashley surprised them all when she suddenly dropped to the floor and quickly half crawled under the plum dress.
Young Helen gasped loudly as a pair of cold hands grasped her about the ankles.
