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Chapter Four: On The Rails
“So; will Mary be joining us for breakfast?” Sherlock asked as he put on his jacket and slipped his notebook into one of the pockets.
Leaning against the doorframe of Sherlock’s room, his cane braced against the floor in front of him to help keep his balance against the rocking of the train, John made a face. Sherlock raised an eyebrow then walked past him. “I will not be throwing her off the train,” he said as he passed.
“Yes, well, I think Mary is of the opinion that it’s better to not give you any chance to change your mind on that,” John replied as he shut the door and followed Sherlock out. “She’ll join us for breakfast after we cross the Mississippi.”
There was a huff of dismissal. “The Mississippi River is too large. There are several smaller rivers on the Northern Pacific line that would be more conducive to repeating that trick if it became necessary.”
“I’ll be sure not to tell her that.” Pausing a moment to let a couple pass, John asked as they crossed to the next car, “Did Jack tell you where it is we are going?”
“West.”
John waited for Sherlock to add some details, but when none were forthcoming, John sighed and said, “West until we hit the Pacific or is there someplace in between here and there that we are going.”
“Helena, Montana.” Holmes glanced back and smiled as they reached the dining car and added, “The same place Ms. Harker is heading to.”
“How do you know…” John glanced past Sherlock and realized that Ms. Harker and a few members of her party were sitting at a table at the far end of the dining car.
“You got us on the same--” John started to hiss then blinked when Sherlock dropped into an empty seat across from a man John was sure he had never seen before. THe man looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow.
“Holmes; what are you doing?” John asked.
“Ordering breakfast.” Sherlock raised a hand to catch the waiter’s attention then looked at John. “There are no other seats available and these are not being used.”
John sighed and looked over at the man whose table Sherlock had just made himself at home at. “Forgive my friend; he had difficulty understanding the concept of patience and personal space.”
“Not a problem,” the man said in a mild voice as if having strangers drop in for breakfast was an everyday thing. His accent was like the ones they had been hearing ever since they had arrived in Chicago. wasn’t using those chairs anyway.”
As Sherlock ordered eggs, buttered toast, breakfast bacon, tea and coffee, John sat down and held out a hand. “Dr. John Watson,” he said as the man shook his hand. He then pointed at Sherlock. “And my annoying friend here is...”
“Sherlock Holmes,” the man said before John could finish. He shrugged a shoulder. “Word gets around when you’re stuck with the same bunch of people for a while. I’m--”
“Dr. Abraham Van Helsing,” When the man raised an eyebrow, Sherlock added, “Word gets around.” He leaned forward and pointed at the book Van Helsing had set aside when his table had been invaded. “Interesting subject matter for breakfast reading.”
The book in question was a small hardbound edition that had a green embossed cover of plants and angular geometric patterns with gold stamped spine. “In A Glass Darkly?” John asked as he read the golden letters.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known,” Sherlock said as the server set the drinks down on the table then retreated.
John gave Sherlock a puzzled frown. “What?”
“It’s 1 Corinthians, 13: 1,” Van Helsing answered in a voice that gave John the impression that having scripture quoted randomly at him was also nothing new. “That’s sort of the inspiration for the title.”
“Ah. It’s a book about scripture then? Hm. I don’t see how that would be considered inappropriate reading, Holmes.”
“Actually,” Van Helsing said, “it’s a book about demons, vampires, premature burials and stuff like that.”
“What?” John repeated, then he scowled at Sherlock. “Let me guess; you came across this book when you were researching Lord Blackwood?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sherlock said before turning his attention back to Van Helsing. “May I ask why a doctor with obvious military experience would be reading a book such as that one?”
Van Helsing shrugged. “It amuses me to see how far off the mark people can be about stuff like this.”
“You’re an Army doctor?” John asked.
“Not exactly; the doctor part was kind of an afterthought.”
“How did you know he was in the military, Holmes?”
Sherlock waved a hand. “He’s wearing a military issued pistol under his jacket. It was either military or he’s an advance scout for bandits who were going to rob the train once we passed the Mississippi.”
“Well, before that but who’s keeping track.”
Sherlock stared at the man. The man smiled and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Might want to call your friend over here before Natasha throws him out the window.”
John looked over to where the man pointed and spotted Jack leaning over to speak with Ms. Harker.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, pulled Dr Van Helsing’s plate over to his side of the table, stabbed the slab of bacon, and called out, “Jack!”
Before John could tell Sherlock to give the man his food back, Dr. Van Helsing shrugged and said, “I wasn’t using that either.”
John leaned forward and braced an elbow on the table to rub his temple and considered whether it was a good idea to leave Sherlock alone for a few minutes while he went back to his room and got something out of his medical bag to counter the headache he was sure to have by the end of the meal.
“Jack!”
Jack glanced up at the shout and spotted John and Sherlock sitting at one of the linen covered tables at the other end of the dinner car. “It seems the rest of your party has arrived, Captain Harkness,” Wilhelmina Harker said, her voice a nice throaty contralto that Jack would have happily listened to all day. There was also a psychic edge to that voice that added that little extra kick to his interest in the woman. He had yet to figure out if she was aware of that little effect her voice had or not.
“”It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m sure we will have a chance to speak again soon.”
Jack grinned and took Wilhelmina’s hand. “I’m looking forward to it, madam.” He caught the quick gesture Wilhelmina made with her free hand as he kissed the back of the one he held. In his peripheral vision he could just see Natasha, the woman he had met at the docks back in New York, settle back in her chair, her eyes shooting daggers his way. Her companion, Clint, chuckled then huffed when he got a kick in the shins from Natacha. Jack winked at Natasha as he straightened and walked away.
As he moved down the aisle, he checked the Vortex Manipulator strapped to his wrists to see what readings he was getting on the group. He was getting a clear reading on Clint-- a shapeshifter who leaned towards lupin aspects-- but the rest he wasn’t having any luck figuring out. It was clear that there was something strange about the bunch-- and going by the name he had a pretty good idea exactly what that was-- but he had no way to confirm his suspicions. He could be wrong; he had seen all of them in full spectrum sunlight and had seen their reflections-- well, he had seen Natasha’s reflection; he was still figuring out how to get Wilhelmina somewhere to check-- but that didn’t mean that they weren’t vampires. Just meant the literature was completely wrong.
Flipping the cuff of his coat back over the Manipulator-- he really needed to get that fixed but it was going to be a couple more decades before he’d be able to get his hands on the parts-- he dropped into the empty chair at Sherlock’s table and held a hand out to the man next to him.
“Captain Jack Harkness.” As the man shook his head, Jack to a moment to look the man over. He looked to be in his late forties, early fifties, with a receding hairline; but his grip was strong and the corners of his eyes crinkled a bit as his crooked lips quirked up in a smile that Jack instantly fell for. “What are you doing tonight?” Jack quickly added to his introduction.
“Jack,” Sherlock said without looking up from his breakfast.
Jack let go of the man and leaned on the table. “Yes?”
“He’s married.”
“Well; the more the merrier.” He looked at the man and asked, “Any chance your wife would be interested in a three-some?”
“Jack!” This time it was John drawing his attention away from the man.
“What?” Jack said with a grin. He did enjoy making John blush like that.
“Actually I think my wife would kill us both if I suggested that.”
Jack looked at the man sitting next to him and was aware that even Sherlock had paused for a moment. The man looked calmly back.
“That could be fun,” Jack said carefully.
“Not the way she does it.” The man tilted his head and seemed to turn his attention inward for a moment. “There would be knives involved and she’d draw it out for as long as she could and yeah…” The man blinked and focused back on Jack. “I’d rather avoid that if it’s all the same to you.”
“Ah.”
The man held out his hand. “Abraham Van Helsing; nice to meet you.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jack said as he shook the hand again.
“You know Dr. Van Helsing?” Sherlock asked.
“Yeah, sort of.” Jack turned to look back at Wilhelmina then back at Van Helsing. “You’re her doctor?” He then looked the man up and down as he added, “And aren’t you supposed to be Dutch?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no,” Van Helsing answered with a shrug. “And I have yet to meet the young lady.”
“But you know about vampires.”
“Apparently, yes; he does,” Sherlock said as he handed Jack a book. Jack glanced at the title but it didn’t ring any bells.
“Does the name Bram Stoker mean anything to you?” Jack asked as he set the book down.
“The business manager for the Lyceum Theater? Yes; I talked to him briefly after their show in New York last week.”
“Ah. Well, guess that explains that then.”
“It does?” John asked as he looked back and forth at the three men.
“Yep!” Jack rubbed his hands together then picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of bacon off of Sherlock’s place. “So,” Jack said around a full mouth. “What’s for breakfast?”
John rolled his eyes. Van Helsing said, “It’s all right. I wasn’t using that either.”
Jack glanced at Van Helsing’s spot on the table, realized he had just stolen the man’s fork, and quickly set his own down in it’s place. “There you go,” Jack said.
“Thanks. Appreciate that.”
“Glad to help.”
“So; will Mary be joining us for breakfast?” Sherlock asked as he put on his jacket and slipped his notebook into one of the pockets.
Leaning against the doorframe of Sherlock’s room, his cane braced against the floor in front of him to help keep his balance against the rocking of the train, John made a face. Sherlock raised an eyebrow then walked past him. “I will not be throwing her off the train,” he said as he passed.
“Yes, well, I think Mary is of the opinion that it’s better to not give you any chance to change your mind on that,” John replied as he shut the door and followed Sherlock out. “She’ll join us for breakfast after we cross the Mississippi.”
There was a huff of dismissal. “The Mississippi River is too large. There are several smaller rivers on the Northern Pacific line that would be more conducive to repeating that trick if it became necessary.”
“I’ll be sure not to tell her that.” Pausing a moment to let a couple pass, John asked as they crossed to the next car, “Did Jack tell you where it is we are going?”
“West.”
John waited for Sherlock to add some details, but when none were forthcoming, John sighed and said, “West until we hit the Pacific or is there someplace in between here and there that we are going.”
“Helena, Montana.” Holmes glanced back and smiled as they reached the dining car and added, “The same place Ms. Harker is heading to.”
“How do you know…” John glanced past Sherlock and realized that Ms. Harker and a few members of her party were sitting at a table at the far end of the dining car.
“You got us on the same--” John started to hiss then blinked when Sherlock dropped into an empty seat across from a man John was sure he had never seen before. THe man looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow.
“Holmes; what are you doing?” John asked.
“Ordering breakfast.” Sherlock raised a hand to catch the waiter’s attention then looked at John. “There are no other seats available and these are not being used.”
John sighed and looked over at the man whose table Sherlock had just made himself at home at. “Forgive my friend; he had difficulty understanding the concept of patience and personal space.”
“Not a problem,” the man said in a mild voice as if having strangers drop in for breakfast was an everyday thing. His accent was like the ones they had been hearing ever since they had arrived in Chicago. wasn’t using those chairs anyway.”
As Sherlock ordered eggs, buttered toast, breakfast bacon, tea and coffee, John sat down and held out a hand. “Dr. John Watson,” he said as the man shook his hand. He then pointed at Sherlock. “And my annoying friend here is...”
“Sherlock Holmes,” the man said before John could finish. He shrugged a shoulder. “Word gets around when you’re stuck with the same bunch of people for a while. I’m--”
“Dr. Abraham Van Helsing,” When the man raised an eyebrow, Sherlock added, “Word gets around.” He leaned forward and pointed at the book Van Helsing had set aside when his table had been invaded. “Interesting subject matter for breakfast reading.”
The book in question was a small hardbound edition that had a green embossed cover of plants and angular geometric patterns with gold stamped spine. “In A Glass Darkly?” John asked as he read the golden letters.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known,” Sherlock said as the server set the drinks down on the table then retreated.
John gave Sherlock a puzzled frown. “What?”
“It’s 1 Corinthians, 13: 1,” Van Helsing answered in a voice that gave John the impression that having scripture quoted randomly at him was also nothing new. “That’s sort of the inspiration for the title.”
“Ah. It’s a book about scripture then? Hm. I don’t see how that would be considered inappropriate reading, Holmes.”
“Actually,” Van Helsing said, “it’s a book about demons, vampires, premature burials and stuff like that.”
“What?” John repeated, then he scowled at Sherlock. “Let me guess; you came across this book when you were researching Lord Blackwood?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sherlock said before turning his attention back to Van Helsing. “May I ask why a doctor with obvious military experience would be reading a book such as that one?”
Van Helsing shrugged. “It amuses me to see how far off the mark people can be about stuff like this.”
“You’re an Army doctor?” John asked.
“Not exactly; the doctor part was kind of an afterthought.”
“How did you know he was in the military, Holmes?”
Sherlock waved a hand. “He’s wearing a military issued pistol under his jacket. It was either military or he’s an advance scout for bandits who were going to rob the train once we passed the Mississippi.”
“Well, before that but who’s keeping track.”
Sherlock stared at the man. The man smiled and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Might want to call your friend over here before Natasha throws him out the window.”
John looked over to where the man pointed and spotted Jack leaning over to speak with Ms. Harker.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, pulled Dr Van Helsing’s plate over to his side of the table, stabbed the slab of bacon, and called out, “Jack!”
Before John could tell Sherlock to give the man his food back, Dr. Van Helsing shrugged and said, “I wasn’t using that either.”
John leaned forward and braced an elbow on the table to rub his temple and considered whether it was a good idea to leave Sherlock alone for a few minutes while he went back to his room and got something out of his medical bag to counter the headache he was sure to have by the end of the meal.
“Jack!”
Jack glanced up at the shout and spotted John and Sherlock sitting at one of the linen covered tables at the other end of the dinner car. “It seems the rest of your party has arrived, Captain Harkness,” Wilhelmina Harker said, her voice a nice throaty contralto that Jack would have happily listened to all day. There was also a psychic edge to that voice that added that little extra kick to his interest in the woman. He had yet to figure out if she was aware of that little effect her voice had or not.
“”It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m sure we will have a chance to speak again soon.”
Jack grinned and took Wilhelmina’s hand. “I’m looking forward to it, madam.” He caught the quick gesture Wilhelmina made with her free hand as he kissed the back of the one he held. In his peripheral vision he could just see Natasha, the woman he had met at the docks back in New York, settle back in her chair, her eyes shooting daggers his way. Her companion, Clint, chuckled then huffed when he got a kick in the shins from Natacha. Jack winked at Natasha as he straightened and walked away.
As he moved down the aisle, he checked the Vortex Manipulator strapped to his wrists to see what readings he was getting on the group. He was getting a clear reading on Clint-- a shapeshifter who leaned towards lupin aspects-- but the rest he wasn’t having any luck figuring out. It was clear that there was something strange about the bunch-- and going by the name he had a pretty good idea exactly what that was-- but he had no way to confirm his suspicions. He could be wrong; he had seen all of them in full spectrum sunlight and had seen their reflections-- well, he had seen Natasha’s reflection; he was still figuring out how to get Wilhelmina somewhere to check-- but that didn’t mean that they weren’t vampires. Just meant the literature was completely wrong.
Flipping the cuff of his coat back over the Manipulator-- he really needed to get that fixed but it was going to be a couple more decades before he’d be able to get his hands on the parts-- he dropped into the empty chair at Sherlock’s table and held a hand out to the man next to him.
“Captain Jack Harkness.” As the man shook his head, Jack to a moment to look the man over. He looked to be in his late forties, early fifties, with a receding hairline; but his grip was strong and the corners of his eyes crinkled a bit as his crooked lips quirked up in a smile that Jack instantly fell for. “What are you doing tonight?” Jack quickly added to his introduction.
“Jack,” Sherlock said without looking up from his breakfast.
Jack let go of the man and leaned on the table. “Yes?”
“He’s married.”
“Well; the more the merrier.” He looked at the man and asked, “Any chance your wife would be interested in a three-some?”
“Jack!” This time it was John drawing his attention away from the man.
“What?” Jack said with a grin. He did enjoy making John blush like that.
“Actually I think my wife would kill us both if I suggested that.”
Jack looked at the man sitting next to him and was aware that even Sherlock had paused for a moment. The man looked calmly back.
“That could be fun,” Jack said carefully.
“Not the way she does it.” The man tilted his head and seemed to turn his attention inward for a moment. “There would be knives involved and she’d draw it out for as long as she could and yeah…” The man blinked and focused back on Jack. “I’d rather avoid that if it’s all the same to you.”
“Ah.”
The man held out his hand. “Abraham Van Helsing; nice to meet you.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jack said as he shook the hand again.
“You know Dr. Van Helsing?” Sherlock asked.
“Yeah, sort of.” Jack turned to look back at Wilhelmina then back at Van Helsing. “You’re her doctor?” He then looked the man up and down as he added, “And aren’t you supposed to be Dutch?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no,” Van Helsing answered with a shrug. “And I have yet to meet the young lady.”
“But you know about vampires.”
“Apparently, yes; he does,” Sherlock said as he handed Jack a book. Jack glanced at the title but it didn’t ring any bells.
“Does the name Bram Stoker mean anything to you?” Jack asked as he set the book down.
“The business manager for the Lyceum Theater? Yes; I talked to him briefly after their show in New York last week.”
“Ah. Well, guess that explains that then.”
“It does?” John asked as he looked back and forth at the three men.
“Yep!” Jack rubbed his hands together then picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of bacon off of Sherlock’s place. “So,” Jack said around a full mouth. “What’s for breakfast?”
John rolled his eyes. Van Helsing said, “It’s all right. I wasn’t using that either.”
Jack glanced at Van Helsing’s spot on the table, realized he had just stolen the man’s fork, and quickly set his own down in it’s place. “There you go,” Jack said.
“Thanks. Appreciate that.”
“Glad to help.”
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