~ Milliways - VH - Rose - talking ~

[i_vanquish_evil]

"Hey, I never finished that story about Mr. Hyde," he says as he shifts his hat a little on his head (the one that the mun forgot to mention he picked up in the last fic-let bit - oops). His mood seems to have shifted a bit – or he's trying to focus his attention on something else.

She pulls back and gives him a questioning glance. You didn't? She doesn't remember, but that was quite some time ago; a lot has happened since then.

"Nope. Never did." He adjusts his coat and sits on the ground with his back against the tree. "Come here." He reaches a hand up to her. When she takes it, another of those inquisitive looks on her face, he smiles and directs her to sit in front of him.

She settles on the ground in front of him, her back to him, her arms resting on his knees. He's warm and solid and a little more tense than she is. To relieve a little bit of that, she leans back against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She can feel the muscles in his chest tighten and release against her back. His hand is beside them, resting on the ground; she reaches over and takes it in her, draws it to her lap. She strokes her thumb over the edge of his hand. Start talkin', handsome, I'm listening.

"Ready?" he asks and she nods. "Where'd I leave off? Oh, right, carried the Queen back to her chambers, she kissed me, she slapped me, Carl and I made a hasty retreat." He hears her chuckling and he smiles. "I tracked Mr. Hyde to Paris, where he had killed more women. I found him in the bell tower of the Cathedral de Notre Dame." The French pronunciation rolls off his tongue smoothly – just about the only French that does – just about the only French he knows. "The first blow from the giant hurt quite a bit, especially when I hit the barrels and the floor, but I got some shots in on him along the way." He feels her wince a bit at the description. "Oh, that was only the beginning. After I sliced off his arm, he hurled me through the roof, then threw me off."

She turns to him with a gasp and a frown. How'd you manage to survive that?"

A smile turns up the corners of his mouth and he draws a weapon from his coat. "Grappling hook gun." He holds it out for her to inspect.

Her eyes widen and she takes the weapon, inspecting it with a professional eye, then hands it back to him.

"Hold on to it for now. Just don't fire it at anything unless you want to go with it," he says with a chuckle. He kisses her temple as she leans against him again, still looking at the weapon. "So, the grappling gun, combined with a tug on the line from Mr. Hyde, gets me back to the top of the cathedral. Mr. Hyde, however, met his fate on the street below. That wasn't the initial plan… or, well, the request from my employer – they wanted him alive, to extricate Dr. Jekyl, I'm not sure the result would have been much different. Either way, he's not murdering people anymore."

He waits for a response. Nothing. He shifts and finds her eyes closed, her head resting against his shoulder, the grappling-gun resting beneath her hand, against her leg. A small sigh and he presses his lips to the top of her head. He puts an arm around her when she curls into his chest. "Good night, Rose," he whispers.

She makes a displeased groaning sound and reaches a hand up to touch his mouth, then makes a gesture that means 'keep talking.' Her eyes are closed, but she's still listening.

Another small smile. "All right. You rest, I'll talk."

She nods gently and curls up a bit more, abandoning the grappling-gun altogether.

Van Helsing moves the weapon out of the way, then drapes his arms around her, lightly. "Hmm, what else can I tell you?" He thinks for a moment, rubbing the fingertips of one hand up and down her arm. "The trip across the Adriatic Sea from Italy to the mainland near Romania (which is actually Hungary during his time, but Stephen Sommers goofed, so sticking with the canon). I spent much of my time standing on the bow, watching the water. I don’t know a lot about boats. They float. That's about it." He knows she's not yet asleep when she giggles at him. "It was a long trip. Carl gave me more information about vampires and Dracula in particular, during the trip." He takes a breath. "You know, that trip really wasn't all that exciting. I'll skip ahead a little – past the three day horseback trek over mountains and hills – to the day we arrived in Transylvania. Warm greeting," he says, heavily laden with sarcasm. "The people there quickly gathered around us, wielding farm equipment as weaponry. Like I said – warm welcome." He brushes a hand over her hair, feeling the soft strands glide through his fingers. "You still with me?" he asks and she nods. "All right, so, Carl's asking me questions and the crowd is closing in, then a man in a top hat says: 'Welcome to Transylvania,' You wouldn't think that would be frightening, but if you'd seen this guy… but, then a woman steps onto the ledge of the well and demands we be disarmed. A beautiful woman – long, dark hair, tall-ish, strong features… ow," he responds to a jab to his ribs. "Hey, you want to hear the story or not? She's part of the story. She's the gypsy princess I was sent to help… which is what I told her moments before three vampires tried to attack the village. Several well-placed crossbow bolts sent them scattered in different directions, breaking their attack pattern."

Rose shifts again, trying to find a comfortable position against his chest. One arm, she tucks around his waist, the other she lets rest against him, beside her head. Hmmm? she squeaks and stiffens a little when he slides an arm beneath her legs - Don't wanna go anywhere. - then relaxes as he settles her feet on the ground, her legs bent in a tent over his right leg. "Mmmm…," she mumbles and snuggles her head against his shoulder again. More story.

"This part is mostly lots of running, lots of bolts, people screaming, a cow being hurled through a roof, me being thrown about like a rag doll, then me firing a series of bolts doused in Holy water at one of the vampires, resulting in her demise. Turns out the cow was fine, Carl too, and Anna – the beautiful princess – " he adds and gains another light jab to his ribcage – "too, though she had a few minor bruises and scrapes. She could take care of herself."

She notes the slight change in the tone of his voice when he speaks of Anna in the past tense and pats her hand, gently, on his chest.

A sad smile turns his mouth, then he flows back into the story… "The townspeople were a bit upset, I think, that I had killed a vampire. Apparently, revenge on the part of the vampires was a factor. The man in the top hat figured I'd be killed rather quickly and was already preparing my gravestone. Too bad for him, I wasn't quite ready to go." He pauses the storytelling again and waits a few breaths to see if Rose is still awake and listening. The only sounds are those of her breathing and the gentle lapping of the lake water. He gives the top of her head another soft kiss, tucks his arms around her protectively and leans back against the tree as he closes his eyes.

**********

(Next morning)

Rose opens her eyes to the light of the sun in the early morning, finding herself encircled by strong, leather-clad arms. He was still telling his story, I must've fallen asleep on him. That can't be good. She yawns and looks at the man resting against the tree trunk, his face mostly shielded by his hat. Looks peaceful. She smiles a bit and taps the brim of the hat with a forefinger. He doesn't even stir. Gently, she tugs the hat from his head and places it on her own. His eyes are still closed and he appears to be asleep, but she catches a glimpse of a grin turning up one corner of his mouth. She smirks and huffs and leans in to kiss him.

He feels her mouth on his and lets her kiss him for a moment, before kissing back. Her arms slide around his neck and the hat is crushed against his forehead. He removes the hat from her head – he was awake before she took it – and places it on the ground beside them, over the grappling-gun. His arms wind around her again, then release her as the kiss ends. "Mmm. Morning."

She smiles at him, then settles back into her original position – her back against his chest, one of his hands in hers. Tracing her fingers over the lines of his hand, she wants to hear more of his stories… if he wants to tell them, but just sitting quietly is fine too.

Over her shoulder, he watches her fingers playing at the lines of his hand – much like a smooth dance. He leans his cheek against the side of her head, just watching… enjoying… relaxing.

She lowers her head and draws his hand to her lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

A soft sigh passes his lips. "You have to go?"

She nods. He's good. She kisses his hand again.

"Work?" he guesses and there's another nod before she shifts around to kiss his mouth. "It's okay," he tells her as she pulls away. "The stories will still be here the next time."

She smiles at him, pleased that some of the self-pity has gone from his tone; pleased that he's okay with this. The smile grows when he stands and extends a hand to help her to her feet. She puts her arms around him and waits for the comforting return of the embrace – she's not disappointed.

"Maybe I'll have new stories for you."

She smiles and nods. She really needs to go. One more kiss, then she takes his hand and starts for the bar, but stops almost before she gets a step away. Something wrong?

"Go ahead, if I have to watch you leave from inside…" he stops, unable to make his voice work beyond those few words.

She nods; she understands. She'll be back, but, she has to go. She pauses, with a wry little smile on her face, and then slips a little gold locket off her neck and hands it to him. If nothing else, he can be sure she'll be back for that.