Title: "A Kiss Can Be a Fatal Thing Pt. 2"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG
Archive: Sure
Summary:  Phileas is safe with Becca, and Jazz but for how long?
Warning: Cursing, bandages, and undressing.
Disclaimer/Notes:  This is the first part of my effort to carry on from Kimmielvr's belated birthday present to me.  The words inside the <<>> are the last words from Kimmie's piece.  I'm using a Phileas that's part SAJV part my image of him from my youth.  I've made Becca one Rebecca Elizabeth "Becca" Drake.  She's a healthier me with magic.  I also own Jason "Jazz" Tyne.  I don't own any part of The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne.  This is an SAJV alternate universe (very AU *bg*).  I use  // as thoughts, :: as telepathy, and ** as emphasis.  It's not beta'd so all mistakes are my own.
 

"A Kiss Can Be a Fatal Thing Pt. 2"
by Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2001

Albion 2001,

<<Without thought, the next thing both of them knew they were in a fervent embrace.  Phileas wrapped the blanket around them both; Becca absently discarded the sponge, neither of them paying any heed to his wound only to themselves...>>

The sponge hit the floor with a soft wet sound.  The bowl of warm water didn't follow so quietly.  It crashed to the floor splashing them both as it went.

"Damn!"  They cursed in unison.  Becca laughed as she realized they'd spoken in perfect unity.  Phileas smiled at her passion, and her mirth.

"We're both wet now.  I wasn't going to mention the possibility of dry clothes until I'd bandaged your head, but now...I may have some clothes that will fit you in the guest room.  You won't fit anything of mine, but Jason keeps some clothes in there."  Becca untangled herself from Phileas and the wet blanket.

"Jason?"  He asked, watching her straighten her clothes, and assess how wet she was.

"He's an old friend that visits from time to time.  I doubt he'll begrudge you some dry clothes."  Becca bent down to pick up the sponge and bowl.  Phileas leaned forward to help and they banged their heads together.

"Ow!  I'm not usually this accident prone.  Are you all right?  I mean..."  She trailed of as her eyes once more locked with his.

"I'm all right."  Phileas said softly, reaching out to brush the hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ears.

"All right except for being hurt, and wet, and...and *impossibly* real."  Becca reached out and traced the line of his jaw.

"Painfully real."  He reminded her with a grin.

"Painfully."  Becca repeated with an apologetic blush.

"So what first?  Dry clothes, a dry bandage, or two aspirin?"  She asked, holding up the soggy remains of the bandage she'd brought.  It had gotten soaked when the bowl spilled.

"Aspirin?"  Phileas echoed with a lift of an eyebrow.

"It's...ah...wait I can explain...it's enhanced salicylic acid.  It'll make your head hurt less," Becca told him, putting the soggy bandage in the bowl with the sponge, not letting her eyes meet his while she struggled for the explanation.

"Aspirin then."  He nodded his head gingerly.  Becca let her eyes meet his for a moment before she went to get the aspirin and a fresh bandage.  Phileas sat back in the armchair, listening to the house while she was gone.  He could hear the wind outside, and something making a soft rumbling noise under the floor at his feet.  Phileas was grateful Becca had let him in, and was taking care of him, but he wondered how he was ever going to get home.

Becca stopped in the kitchen to stare into her fridge.

"What am I going to bring him to take the aspirin with?"  She asked the large brown Burmese cat watching her from her kitchen table.

::Take him water.  He'll barely notice whatever you take him.  That one is quite taken with you.::  Jazz blinked and twitched his tail.

::Taken with me?  Never mind.  Is he *really* Phileas Fogg?::  Becca thought back at him.

::Oh, one version or another certainly.  We must get him out of here in the morning.  You may take care of his needs tonight; bandage his head, make sure he gets some sleep, but in the morning he must go for all our sakes.::  The cat stilled all his movements to stare steadily at her with his great golden eyes.

"What?"  Becca said aloud in surprise.

::Shhhs!  We're not going to just throw him out, Becca.  We'll get him safely to where he needs to go.  We have gifts he and his will have need of when we get him there.::  Jazz began to wash an ear.

"*We'll* get him there?"  Becca asked, glancing at the cat.

::Where you go, my lady, I follow.  Worry about tomorrow tomorrow.::  With those thoughts Jazz got down from the table, and left Becca staring after him.  She took a deep breath, poured Phileas a glass of water, and headed for the bathroom medicine cabinet.

A big brown cat strolled into the living room.  It sat and stared up at Phileas with its great golden eyes.  He had the strangest feeling it was studying him.  Then it vanished.  There was no other word for it.  The cat hadn't walked away it had vanished right in front of him.  Phileas blinked in surprise, and the oddest thing was that he could swear the very last thing he'd seen it do was smile.

"Two aspirin, and water to take them with," Becca handed Phileas the aspirin and the glass of water she'd brought him.

"Oh, the water is bottled water.  It's safe.  I mean it would be safe if it was tap water but...oh bother," She scowled at her feet, and he hid his smile behind the glass.  Becca was trying so hard to make him feel safe and welcome.  She didn't have to try so hard.

"It's fine, Becca."  Phileas set the glass down, and reached out for her hand.

"You're being very kind."  He squeezed her hand, and tried to catch her eyes.  Becca met Phileas' pale blue ones.  She looked into them, and wondered how she was going to tell him he...they...them and Jazz were all leaving in the morning.

//"Phileas we don't know each other *at all*, but you have to listen to me -- you have to trust me.  This ancient cat spirit I live with says we *all* have to get the Hell out of here in the morning.  If he says we have to I believe him."  That sounds terribly sane.//  Becca handed Phileas the glass he'd set down, and told him, "Swallow the pills don't chew them."

He swallowed the pills she gave him, and washed them down with the water she'd brought him.  "Better my little nightingale?"

"Getting there."  Becca told him, pulling her hand from his, and moving to bandage his head.

"How did you come to be here in the middle of a snowstorm?"  She asked him as she began to bandage his head.

"I'm terribly afraid, Becca, I don't remember.  I remember being on the Aurora having a drink, and then waking up here in the Phoenix."  Phileas shrugged uncomfortably.

"Aurora?  Phoenix?"  Becca asked as she finished bandaging his head.

"Don't tell me Verne didn't mention them in his story?"  He demanded disgustedly.

"Apparently they didn't fit in his story."  She stepped back to examine her bandaging.

"The Aurora is my dirigible.  She's an airship, and something of a home away from home for me."  Phileas smiled with pride thinking of the Aurora.  Then his expression soured as his thoughts turned to the Phoenix.

"Becca, do you really believe I'm Phileas Fogg?"  His expression was so serious that she felt he deserved her honest answer.

"I'm not sure.  I mean you look just the way I've always imagined Phileas would look -- you would look.  You sound right, talk about yourself as Phileas, but I don't know.  I don't know who you are, where you're from, or how you got here.  I do want to find out."  Becca stepped forward, took one of his hands in hers, and squeezed it gently.

"I *am* Phileas Fogg.  I came here in a time machine.  The Phoenix is a time machine.  For a while Verne thought it was a creation of Cardinal Richelieu's, but he's found designs for it drawn by the Aztecs.  We've tried to get rid of the thing by sending it away, but it seems to come back."  He sighed, and rested his forehead against her hand.

"Phileas, I believe you.  It makes as much sense as any explanation I've thought of.  I've something to tell you, and I have to ask you to believe me."  Phileas looked up to study her face -- her troubled grey eyes.

"Tomorrow we have to get out of here.  I can't tell you why, or even how I know, I just know it.  We have to leave for our own safety.  Do you believe me?"  Becca seemed not to expect him to believe her.

"Nightingale, if you can believe I arrived here in a time machine, I can believe you're presentiment however dire and vague.  It's only fair."  He smiled up at her sharing no more of his doubts or his tiredness.

"Now, you said something about dry clothes?"  Phileas asked getting up from the armchair.

"Yeah, in the guest room upstairs.  Come on I'll show you where."  She held on tight to his hand, and led him up the stairs to the guest room.

"Jason's clothes are here; sweaters, jeans, clean, dry, and hopefully a decent fit on you.  I'll...ah...go get myself into some drier clothes and then comeback and see how you're doing.  You can handle trying the clothes on yourself...I mean you've taken a nasty blow to the head, but you're not seeing double are you?"  Becca was once more full of nervous concern.

"I'll manage, Becca.  Thank you for everything."  Phileas didn't try to kiss her on the lips again.  He kissed the hand she'd kept in his all the way up the stairs.

"Okay."  She nodded to him quickly, pulled her hand from his, and slipped out of the room closing the door behind her.  All the clothing she'd shown him was simple fair, but there was no denying that it was warm and dry.  Phileas reviewed what there was in the room to try on, picked something out, and began to change out of his wet clothes into dry ones.

Becca closed the door to her room and flopped on her bed.  She still couldn't believe it.  Phileas Fogg was upstairs; her aspirin in him, her bandage on his head, and hopefully some of Jason's clothes replacing his wet ones.

//I need to get into some dry clothes.  If we have to be out of here at the crack of, I should be ready before then.  I just wish that cat could be more specific than "tomorrow".//  Becca began to change her clothes, and as she was pulling a fresh sweater on over her head someone opened the door to her room.

"If you're some kind of nasty magical demon boogey beasty come to get Phileas, and me ahead of schedule, I should warn you that I'm the dragon souled archmage of the Drake family."  It all would have sounded terribly impressive, if it wasn't being declared through a half dawned sweater, as it was Jason couldn't help laughing.

"Becca, Becca, Becca, I thought we had the fact that I'm not a demon, or a boogey, just a beasty all sorted out ages ago."  He smiled at her as he sat down on her bed.

"Jason?  No.  You said *tomorrow*.  I remember it wasn't that long ago.  We have to go now don't we?  You wouldn't be sitting there smiling at me with those...beautiful blue eyes if the situation wasn't dire enough to call for your human form over your Burmese."  Becca leaned her head against Jason's studying his blue eyes very closely.

"Afraid so, my lady.  Whatever is coming has moved up its schedule so we must move up ours.  Get your boots on, grab your coat, and hope that Phileas has indeed fit into some of my clothes."  Jason put his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her back towards her boots.

"Your not mad about the clothes are you?  I mean I buy them, you wear them sometimes, and the rest of the time they sit in that room feeding clothes moths."  She tried to watch Jason's reaction to her question, and get her boots on at the same time.  The boots didn't quite win, but they had her on the ropes for a while.

"Those clothes moths are good eats.  No, I'm not angry, Becca.  You've been careful not to give me, or us for that matter away, and to acknowledge that I'm a part of your life.  'My old friend Jason,' was a very touching description to hear."  He stood, and steadied her as she finished putting her boots on, and grabbed her coat.

"Does an 'I love you' make up for describing you as merely 'a friend'?  Cause if it doesn't you'll have to settle for a rain check.  'Whatever' has moved up its schedule and I want to stay ahead of it."  Becca gave him a quick kiss as she put on her coat, and headed for the guest room and Phileas.

"'I love you' makes up for lots of things...lots of things."  Jason whispered to himself as he trailed behind her.

She nearly forgot to knock before entering the guest room.  It wasn't that she'd been raised in a barn, even if she'd been accused of having had such a childhood on occasion.  It was the growing fear in her that the next time she looked at Jason he would be in the form of a tiger three times life size.  At that point she and Phileas could pretty much kiss their butts good bye.  The tiger was a battle form she'd only survived seeing once, she very much doubted she'd survive seeing it a second time.

"Phileas?  Phileas did you find anything that fit?  Can I come in?"  Becca tried not to sound as scared as she felt, from the concern on Phileas face when he opened the door she'd failed.

"What's wrong Becca?"  Phileas asked as he took in the fact that she hadn't merely put on dry clothes, but also dawned her boots and coat.

"Umh...you know that presentiment I mentioned earlier?  Well, it seems I was off on the time table.  If you're ready we should go now."  Whatever Phileas immediate response to her words might have been, they died when Jason came up behind Becca, and put his arms around her.

"You heard the lady, times wasting Phil."  Jazz smiled at Phileas over Becca's head.

"Who?  Becca?"  Phileas asked.  It wasn't very coherent, and it was plain that Phileas was frustrated by his own incoherence.

"Phileas Fogg Jason Tyne, Jason Tyne Phileas Fogg.  You two can get better aquainted once we're out of here.  Right now we need to stay ahead of trouble.  Can we go?"  Becca glanced between the two men.

"The snow?"  Phileas continued to struggle to speak in more than one word sentences.

"We only have to wade from the front door to the time machine.  You've already covered that distance tonight.  You know you don't look half bad in my clothes.  How do they fit?"  Jason asked with a congenial smile.

"They fit fine thank you.  To the time machine, you mean we're leaving in the Phoenix?"  Phileas asked looking very doubtful.

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