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"Yes, of course, madam." Poole answered as Helena droned on.
"And be sure you don't disturb
them, they need this time together ... him especially. You know the doctor,
Poole, he refuses to be helped. Be
sure to treat him as though nothing has changed, and whatever you do,
do NOT ask him if he needs any help. Emma will assist him should the need
arise."
"Yes, of course, Ms. St. Just...but
if I may say so, their food is getting a trifle tepid. Would you like me
to serve them now?" Helena blushed,
smiling embarassedly at the manservant.
"Yes, thank you Poole, I have a tendency to get carried away, I'm afraid."
"Understood, madam, the doctor
is a willful soul, I'm sure he would resist any unneeded assistance, as
you say." With that he was gone,
carrying a tray that Helena had skillfully perused to be sure the menu
was in accordance with Dr. Jekyll's medical condition. Indeed, she had
gone so
far as to dice his vegetables, worried his tender stomach would refuse
to digest them. She sighed, glancing around the kitchen listlessly, wanting
so
much to see them ... what they were doing. Despite her longing for
Henry's arms to hold her, Helena had found that the mere sight of him embracing
Emma sometimes supplied her memory with the fuel to keep her heart
burning. Knowing they must be alone, however, that all visitation would
soon
be cut off should the formula continue to shake Henry's wits as it
had done this morning, she left the kitchen and walked slowly to the drawing
room.
She sat with her journal for a
bit, fiddling with several unsolved equations that scattered the pages.
This was a technique she had leaned from
Henry early on in their friendship, when he had arrived at the laboratory
late one evening to find her cursing wildly at the tablet before her.
"Helena? Good Lord, woman...never have I seen such a dainty mouth emit such utterances!"
"Good God, Henry! I simply _cannot_
derive the required proportions from the chemical make up of the congealed
liquid...but still, it must be
so! I very well know what is inside this godforsaken goo, I put it
there myself!"
"Shhh...just relax and concentrate...the
correct numbers will show themselves eventually." He had said gently, hesitantly
coming to stand next
to her, looking over her shoulder inquizatively at the calculations
scattering the paper.
"Don't you _dare_ tell me to RELAX, Henry! I've been standing in this very spot for over a quarter of an hour!"
"Alright then, let it be. Just
leave it for another session. A fresh start will make all the difference
in the world, believe me." She had given him
her best angry pout, but he simply reached down and took her hand in
his own, from which removed the pencil she clutched for dear life, setting
it
down and rubbing her fingers vigorously. His face slowly revealed a
smirk as she watched him curiously. 'What on earth are you doing?"
"My dear Ms. St. Just, I would think the answer to that question is terribly obvious."
"No it isn't, Henry...come, now, what is this new facination you have found with my fingers?"
"Ahh, yes, but they are beautiful fingers...all six of them."
"You're working too hard these days, Dr. Jekyll. The last time I took inventory I had but _five_ fingers on each hand."
"What? _Five_?"
"Yes, Henry," She said with a grin,
his hands still slowly massaging her hand and wrist. "Count them if you
must." He did so, slowly and
with great comedic flair, leaving her to wonder just how many hours
he had spent in actual slumber over the course of the week.
"Yes, I see now! I must have confused
the number of digits on the human hand with the number of resins needed
to complete a polycarbonate
chain."
"Ever the scientist, Henry! Yes,
_I_ have _five_ fingers, the polycarbonate _chain_...has..._six_...multiplied
by the root of the total!!! Henry,
you're a GENIUS!!!" She cried, throwing open her journal to scribble
the rest of the equation hastily onto the pad.
She smiled at the memory, disregarding
the equation she had opened her journal to. Indeed, a glance at the clock
on the mantle piece quickly
showed her that nearly three quarters of an hour had elapsed, and she
quickly put away the chemistry, leaving it for "another session" indeed.
She
stood, quickly, headed for the study before she even made the conscious
decision to peek in on the dining pair. She silently creaked the door to
the
study open, glancing in the direction of the burning fire immediately.
From her hiding place, she could clearly see them, Emma perched on his
lap, one
hand methodically alternating between the plate of food that rested
on the table beside her and Henry's mouth, tenderly feeding him. Her other
hand
was being used to tenderly stroke his raven hair away from his face,
and his own hands lingered protectively around her waist. Emma was smiling
with a radience Helena had not seen since the wedding, her lips permanently
parted with a giggle. He, likewise had regained some of his much needed
colour...the fire's warmth-along with that of his beloved-had done
him much good. As she observed silently from across the room, Emma carefully
leaned towards Henry, and their lips met in perfect synchrony. Helena
sighed nearly too loudly, as she always did when she was present for any
of
Henry's displays of affection. She quickly let the door swing shut,
and curtly returned to the drawing room.
Numerous times Helena had watched
scenes like this unfold before her eyes- during all of which she had been
working on some sort of
experiment or in some other way equally "absorbed" in her work. So
many kisses...pecks on the cheeks, deep, passionate exchanges, tender nuzzles
on the neck-all of which sent her heart crashing. Usually she was able
to ignore the tug at her heart, but tonight-with that late evening in the
laboratory
so fresh in her mind-she had no choice but to gaze into the burning
heath and remember...
" ..._six_...multiplied by the
root of the total!!! Henry, you're a GENIUS!!!" The words she had spoken
echoed through her mind...through
her heart as well. Indeed she had turned fervently to her journal,
but the answer she had sought for so long would not be scrawled until much
later. As
she stared at the once insensible equation before her, she slowly became
aware of the fact that Dr. Jekyll still held her hand in his own. Her eyes
left the
paper, glancing up at him curiously, but what she saw lurking within
them was completely unexpected. _Love? No...Lust._ She assured herself,
remembering vividly how he had raised her hand to his lips, torturously
slow, and kissed her palm. What normally would be accepted as a gentlemanly
formality soon lost all traces of courtesy. As she had watched, abruptly
leaning her weight against the lab bench, he closed his eyes and parted
his lips
sensually. Soon the warmth of his tongue enveloped her senses, and
the softness of her hand cradled his cheek. For Helena St. Just, time had
stopped
that night in the dimly lit laboratory, but all too quickly Henry's
beautiful brown eyes shot open, and their eyes met.
Understanding coursed between them;
the brief lapse between colleague and mentor had _never taken place_. Henry
had fumbled clumsily,
dry mouthed and red faced, lowering her hand roughly back to its pencil.
He had muttered a confused apology and ran from the room, the door
shutting loudly behind him. Helena was once again alone, and the next
time Dr. Jekyll walked through the door and find her standing there, he
smiled
and chatted as though the event had never taken place. Even his eyes,
which had always showed her what he was feeling in the recesses of his
soul,
were cool and silent.
Sighing again, much louder this
time, Helena stood, leaving the silence of the drawing room to pace the
hall, in case Emma or Henry should
call for assistance. As she approached the opposite end of the hall,
the air was silent, absent of all echo, but the study door was open once
again.
Quickening her pace, Helena strode to the end of the hall to find Emma
sitting in the chair Henry had occupied. Henry was no where in sight.
"Emma? Where has Henry gone?" She
asked a mite too loudly, immediately concerned for the doctor's well being.
Emma turned away from
the fire to face her, smiling gleefully, unknowing.
"Helena...thank you so much for letting him get up and about! It's truly encouraging to see hi-"
"Emma, please, he can hardly stand on his own, where has he gone!"
"Upstairs, of course...he said that he was feeling tired again. I offered to help him myself, but he assured me he could make it himself."
"Oh God, I don't think he can..."
"Helena, don't worry so much! He
told me he was feeling so much better, that he couldn't bear to demand
your assistance one more time
tonight, and to tell you he felt "back to his old self again." Which,
I will admit, seemed a bit cryptic, but I'm sure he's only trying to be
optimistic."
Emma watched Helena intently, but her expression did not change a bit.
On the contrary, she appeared to loose colour rapidly, as though she was
not
relieved but _frightened_.
"Yes, I'm sure that's it...he had mentioned feeling stronger earlier. I'll just see to it that he gets his evening medications then."
"Helena, please...try to relax
a bit. He seemed fine when he left...a bit hunched over, but that's to
be expected, is it not?" Helena gasped, but
quickly hid it with a cleaing of the throat.
"Yes, yes of course, what with
the sutures in his chest and all! Well, goodnight then." Helena turned
slowly, closing the door to the study,
and raced to the stairs, half expecting to see the doctor crumbled
half way to the top. The stairs were empty, however, and she was at the
top in a
heartbeat, racing for the door of Dr. Jekyll's room. As she got closer,
she slowed considerably, out of sheer fear for what...for who she would
find in
there. Henry wasn't crazy, he knew as well as she he would be out of
his mind to attempt climbing the stairs on his own. Still, she also knew
that was
a risk he would take if he felt Emma was in danger in any way. She
crept to the door, seeing nothing but darkness in the room beyond, and
carefully
eased the door open. She stood in the doorway, too frightened to enter,
certain now of the demons that lurked inside, anxious to pounce on her.
The
light from the corridor was just enough for her to make out the shadow
that was the bed, the dresser, and the sitting chair by the window. The
room
appeared to be empty.
"Dr. Jekyll?" She whispered, her
voice startling the silence of the room. Suddenly the shadows danced, and
she jumped back, catching a
scream before it could flee her throat. The chair had moved! Not the
chair, she knew...and as she got closer, her eyes adjusting to the dimness,
she
could make out the slouched figure in the chair. She took a deep breath,
she took a step forward, and she spoke again.
"Dr. Jekyll, is that you?"
No response.
"Henry, answer me, please! How
are you feeling?" Her question was followed by silence. Just as she was
certain the..._person_ in the chair
was asleep or unconscious, however, a small, menacing laughter pierced
the darkness.
"Well, Ms. St. Just...I suppose
you could say I'm back to my old self again."