WHAT GOOD DIVIDES?
Ashanti frowned as the door to the young woman's room opened and the tall brunette stepped out, a delighted smirk on her face. "Excuse me, miss," he said, stepping between her and the rest of the hallway, "But you are not allowed..." "It's alright, she's with me," came a sudden voice as a floating coat appeared. "Mr. Skinner," Ashanti's frown deepened despite his politetone. The girl was one thing. Skinner was something else. The two of them together? The first mate shuddered at the thought. "In the flesh, so to speak," Skinner remarked, "The little'un here and I were going to take a bit of a stroll. If that's alright with you?" Ashanti snorted, knowing it wouldn't matter if he thought it was appropriate or not. Besides, he enjoyed the dangerous glare Carmine sent in Skinner's direction at the term "little'un". "Anything you deem appropriate is fine by me," said Ashanti, forgetting for a moment it was Skinner he was talking to. The thief let out a laugh. "I'll be sure to tell Nemo you said that," he remarked, "Now if you don't mind, darling." The arm of the coat moved towards Carmine's shoulders. Instantly, and with an almost feline grace, the girl grabbed Skinner's hand and twisted it. "I told you never to do that," she said, releasing him. "Whoops, sorry, my mistake," Skinner's reply was sarcastic, despite the fact he was rubbing his wrist. The willow like appearance of the girl's hands had fooled him into thinking they were weak. In fact, it felt like being held by an iron bar, "Shall we." "After you," the girl replied, "I've no experience walking around this ship." Skinner almost laughed out loud. With her hiding, she probably knew the ship better then anyone but Nemo and members of his crew. "You're a class act, you know that," he said, heading left towards the corner. Carmine shrugged. The white hallway turned to reveal another long cooridor, barren but for a few oak doors. For a few minutes the two walked in companiable silence. Neither offering much in way of conversation. Suddenly, however, Carmine stopped. "Is something wrong?" Skinner said, turning around in suprise. The suprise increased as he noticed the cool look Carmine was shooting to him. "What is it you want, Mr. Skinner?" Carmine said, the tone just as cool as her expression. "Want?" replied Skinner innocently, "What do you mean by that?" Carmine laughed her signature laugh. The ice cold chuckle that sent shivers down everyone's spine. "Please, Mr. Skinner," she said, "Stop taking me for a silly teenager. I know more about you and the others then you think. I've seen things you've yet to face. I've read into your deepest thoughts. Do not take me for a fool, Mr. Skinner." Skinner shuddered. He was positive he would rather have the Carmine be some sinister looking mastermind then the cool collected girl staring at least then she would seem more in she spoke, he almost felt as though she could see him. A terrifying concept now that he thought about it. "Look, darling," said Skinner, trying to mask his fear and realizing his plan was slowly failing, "You've obviously come a long way." Carmine's eyebrows raised in an almost comical scepticism. "And you obviously need our help." "Get to the point, Mr. Skinner," again with the icy tone. "I am," insisted Skinner, "Look, you need something and I need something." "And that would be?" demanded Carmine, irritation slipping through the cool exterior. She crossed her arms impatiently, staring at the floating jacket. "What if I told you I can convince the league to go full hearted into this mission?" replied Skinner. "They already are," replied Carmine. "No, they're doing it for Alan...Quartermain," responded Skinner, "You know as well, as I do Sawyer would rather string you up and leave you abandoned on one of the islands here." "He what!" exclaimed Carmine. "Oh, I guess I shouldn't have said that," said Skinner, realizing his mistake. Carmine grinned. "The guy's got guts," she said, "I can't fault him for that." "Doesn't matter," continued Skinner, trying to push her back to his point, "What if I told you I could convince the yank to your side?" "I would ask, what's the price?" replied Carmine. "Very simple, love," said Skinner, "I convince them, you show me how to build one of those hollo-things you have." "Hologram projector," offered Carmine. "Yeah, that's it." For a moment, the world paused as Carmine looked at him. "Why?" she said simply. Skinner paused. The reason was simple enough. He wanted to be seen again. He didn't want to have todeal with the stairs as people saw clothes floating without a face or body seeming to hold it up. He hated having to wear the paint andremaining icy to the sad stares fromhis fellow league members at the scaring that showed up. He wanted to feel normal again. And seeing all that had happened to him so far due to this bloody invisibilty, he thought he deserved the chance. No matter how it came to be. But how to tell this girl that. "Because," he said finally, "Because I want to be normal again." Again, a pause as Carmine seemed to consider her reply. Skinner could see the wheels working in the girl's brown eyes. But which wheels were working for what reason was a complete mystery to him. Despite his ability to see her thinking, the brown walls held themselves impenetrable to the view of an outsider. For her part, Carmine looked sadly at the invisible man. This was the part she hated most in her job. Deep down, in the fires of her soul, she would be willing to do anything to relieve the sufferings of another human being if she could. And while invisibility didn't necessarily provide a physically painful experience, Carmine knew the answer that had been drilled into her would hurt the gentlemen thief. What is wrong with me? she thought to herself, realizing how out of character she sounded. Usually she was knew what had to be done and would be willing to do it. The no nonsense way she acted certainly earned her a lot of enemies and hardly any friends, but it got the job done. Carmine was a good reader of people's emotions and such, but she really didn't harness such ability in putting her comments gently. As far as she knew, she had never really cared if she had hurt or angered someone by her words. But something about this situation was different. She just couldn't figure out what. "Mr. Skinner," she said, after her pause, "I'm sorry." "Sorry as in, you don't want to make this deal, or sorry as in, you can't make this deal," said Skinner. Carmine noted the anger building up in his voice. "Sorry as in both, I'm afraid," said Carmine, stiffening, "I can't just give you future technology just for my own gain. It's against the laws of my century." "We aren't in your century." "Doesn't matter. Laws are laws. And I am compelled to follow them." "You don't strike me as someone who follows the rules," replied Skinner, his tone growing harsher and harsher, " Coming to 'help' us when your brother said not to, sneaking aboard the Nautilus, picking a fight with Hyde. Should I go on?" "No, your list is quite satisfactory," shot back Carmine, "And for your information, Mr. Skinner, it doesn't matter if it's against the rules or not. I don't believe in giving technology to underhanded people like yourself. Especially when they are more likely to get themselves blown up with such technology!" Before Skinner could utter an angry reply, Carmine turned, intent on storming back to her room, and collided into a warm body.
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