My brain felt blank as I stared dumbly up at Poole. When on earth had Poole gotten here? How had I not heard him coming? And, more importantly, what exactly had he seen?

My breath halted at this last thought. " No, no," I assured myself. " If he had seen everything, if Poole had witnessed his beloved master transform into a demon before his very eyes, he'd be screaming his bleedin' head off right now..." My fluttering thoughts stuttered to a halt and I realized with some mortification that I was waiting for assurance from that this was indeed the case. I received none. That's right, Jekyll was- Jekyll was...where the fuck was Jekyll? No matter, he was not here at the moment and I didn't need his unsolicited opinions anyway.

My focus returned to Poole, his form silhouetted in the flicker of the gas lamps from the hall beyond. While his hold on the shotgun conveyed inexperience, his face was resolved and his aim a bit too steady for my liking. Steadily trained on me...

"How the fuck am I going to get out of this mess?" I inwardly shook myself. This was Poole standing before me. Posh, pansy, twat, Poole. What was the man, but a swaggering waistcoat who spent all his life bowing down just for the exquisite honor polishing the shoes of London's elites with his tongue? The thought that he could be a threat to me, even with a gun was laughable. Hadn't I weaseled my way out of far worse situations before? A ghost of a thought nagged at the back of my consciousness, reminding me that Jekyll's input had saved my skin many a time during such incidents. I pushed it away. What did Jekyll have that I didn't, after all? I had just as much smarts and twice the nerve. I could diffuse this situation. I just needed to think fast and keep on my toes.

I allowed a sheepish grin to twist my face as I rolled my stiff shoulders and placed my feet underneath myself. Poole's aim remained trained on me, his face inscrutable, his body that of a statue. He did not, however, take a step closer, but remained stuck in the mouth of the hallway. Encouraged by this, I rose slowly to my feet.

"Poole, my good man!" I tried to say boisterously, but my dry throat cracked in protest. I cleared it and continued, "What the bloody hell are you doing up at this ungodly hour?"

Poole's silver mustache twitched. "That depends, Master Hyde," he said, gritting his teeth and making the title sound like an insult. "What on earth are you doing entering my Master's house, and screaming your head off at this hour." His eyes swept disdainfully up and down my body, "and wearing what appear to be my master's clothes no less."

I puffed out my chest and tried to straighten Jekyll's rumpled waistcoat on my slight frame. "Why, my dear Poole! Didn't that same Master specifically instruct you to let me have free reign over this house as well as its contents? If I weren't so sure of your sound constitution I may believe you were pointing that gun at me!" I brought a hand to my chest in mock offense, "But you would never do that, would you Poole?" My smile became lopsided, mocking, "You would never do anything against Jekyll's wishes." I met Poole's eyes defiantly, but my attention was not focused there, but in my peripheral where the nose of the gun remained fixed over my chest.

"Times have changed Mr. Hyde. Did you really believe that after all that has transpired this past week, after the chaos you have wrecked over The Society, that you would be able allowed to walk into this manor as if nothing had happened? Why Jekyll himself assured me that you were no longer to be welcomed over the threshold."

I felt my ears burn and knew that they must be growing red. I must have missed this particular conversation while on my search for revenge. Seemed the unsupervised doctor had been just as busy in my absence. Well, I couldn't say I was particularly surprised. I inwardly cursed the doctor with every swear imaginable and some new ones of my own creation. Really, was I the only one of the two of us that had any foresight? What was Jekyll thinking casting me out amongst all of our associates? Had the insufferable prat planned to keep me locked up forever?

My expression must have conveyed some of my inward musings to Poole because his posture became even more annoying prim and there was a hint of triumph in his voice as he continued.

"Did you really think you could just tramp here screaming your head off after mafficking through evry' bloody pub 'n the East End?" Poole's face reddened as traces of his original accent began quake through his voice. He paused and took a long steadying breath. "No Master Hyde. Now I may not shoot you where you stand only because Jekyll, for some reason that continues to evade me, seems to care for you, but I have no qualms over handing you over to the nearest constable. He tutted under his breath. "They were supposed to be watching the street. They can't be far off."

Poole took a step forward, ushering me towards the door with the barrel of his gun. Okay, so this was bad. This was really bad.

As usual, my mouth was a bit ahead of my brain.

"Eh! Wouldn't you like to know all the trouble I've been up to tonight before we head out? You can write down all my crimes and report them to the coppers. Oh, let me tell you the sin and debauchery were plentiful tonight." My words fell over each other in fast succession as I smiled wickedly at Poole. "Mind you, I wasn't at the pubs. this evening" I saw Poole's eyes widen in clear skepticism. "Naw, see I was visiting the local coffee house. Wanted to keep my mind clear for the excitement."

Poole's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Come along now, Hyde. This is all unnecessary. He took another step forward.

I felt a bit of sweat on my brow as I rushed on. " Awwww, but Poole you oughta 'ave seen the kettle drums on this one lass. What was her name again? Evelyn I believe, Evelyn Poole." I cocked an eyebrow. "Any relation?"

Poole's mustache bristled as if under a sudden static storm. "Why….You— You complete scoundrel! "

Poole shook with anger and I watched as the shotgun quivered in his arms. His aim slipped and the nose of the gun fell a couple of inches down and to the left. I strived right and lurched forward, closing the distance between us. Before he could react, I grabbed the barrel of the gun and forced it upward. A shot rang out as Poole's finger slipped on the trigger. I closed my eyes and held my breath as a shower of plaster rained over us from the ceiling. Poole coughed and choked as I tightened my grip on the gun and leaned heavily backward. The motion forced the Poole's taller frame to lose its footing. He plunged head over heels over the barrel of the gun and landing heavily on his back. I flung the gun away, watching as it spun across the polished floor. Stepping over Poole's writhing form I threw myself against the door and stumbled into the night.

The cool air hit my face hard and whipped my hair back away from my face. I popped the collar of Jekyll's cloak and reach up for the brim of a nonexistent hat. Fuck, Jekyll hadn't been wearing one. I jerked at the collar trying to lift it further, to cover my face. My eyes scanned the street wildly as I start briskly walking away from the house, choosing a direction at random. My footsteps slapped loudly against the wet cobblestones. I was unsure where to head. I couldn't go to SoHo. My little flat had been compromised by Jekyll's cowardice at the station. The Society was probably being watched as well.

"Jekyll! You bleedin' idiot! How are you going to get us out of this mess you made!" I muttered to myself. I heard nothing in response, but the sound of distant horse hooves pulling a cab.

"Fine! Be that way! Very mature doctor." Even as I threw these spiteful thoughts at the doctor an uneasy feeling churned deep in my stomach. It seemed that I was truly alone.

Thrump!

Fifty paces behind me the front door of the manor flung open at full force, its back ricocheting off of the outer wall. Poole panted in the doorframe, leaning on it heavily and holding one wrist to his chest. His eyes locked on me.

" Shit!"

"POLICE! POLICE!" he hollered.

Okay. New plan. Be anywhere but here.

I quickened my pace and sidestepped into a dark alley before proceeding into a run. I could hear a muffled conversation behind me. Seemed the peelers hadn't been far off. I tried to increase my speed, but it was then that my foot slipped on my overly-long britches. A surprised cry escaped my lips as I was hurled face first into the cobblestones. A burst of pain as my nose and lip collide against the stones. I scrambled upright, my hands shaking as they tried to quickly roll up the cuffs of my pants. I quit midway through the effort when I heard the sound of footsteps and shouts behind me. I wiped ruefully at my face catching snot and blood on my sleeve and continued running.

There was no other way out of this. I had to disappear and to do that I was going to have to head down into the sewers.

I raced forward, my mind planning a route as I did so. I knew these streets like the back of my hand. There was a junction not far from here, maybe a few blocks, that housed an entrance to the sewers. It may not be the closest, but I did not have time to look puruse the streets looking for manholes that may or may not exist. Better to go with the definitive option. If I could just reach it and get in unseen I'd be in the clear.

Right, left, right. Hop Miss Calvin's garden wall, climb the gutter, jump to the balcony across the way, slide down the gutter. Left, right, right, climb the dead vine, hop the gap between roofs, land in the Petunia bushes, turn right again and…

There it was. I stood in the shadow the alley and glanced frightfully down the empty streets before rushing towards the manhole. I attempted to grab ahold the cover, but my hands, slick with sweat, slid right off the damp metal. Hurriedly I wiped my hands against my pants and tried again. This time I found my grip and grunted as I dragged the heavy cover away from its opening.

I wondered if the Doctor was going to start an argument with me, possibly for not "lifting with my knees." I was already coming up with a retort in response when I remembered that it was unneeded. The place Jekyll usually occupied in my mind remained silent. Curious, I mentally poked the spot. The feeling I received in return can only be described as cold, empty. Gooseflesh rose on the back of my neck. I swallowed and tried to shrug off the feeling and climbed into the hole. I looked left and right before ducking my head down and trying my best to drag the cover back in place, sealing myself in darkness.

I descended down the ladder, feeling flakes of rust stick to my fingers as I do so. It was black as pitch down here, as dark as the inner circles of Hell. The smell was none too pleasant either. I shivered as my feet plunge calf-deep in what I very much hoped was rainwater. The resounding splash was followed by the scurrying of rats fleeing the sudden intrusion into their home.

I squinted my eyes in the dark, but cannot make out a single shape. I shivered wrapped my arms around myself just to feel something tangible in that complete blackness. I was real. I existed.

What I needed was a light. I tried to recall if Jekyll still carried matches to light the pipes and cigars of his patrons when I remembered something better. I burrowed my hands into the pockets of Jekyll's jacket and waistcoat, throwing what were probably meaningless receipts and papers into the filth below until- Aha! My fingers clasped around a smooth glass, pill-shaped in form and no bigger than an inkwell.

It was rather fortunate that the Doctor was so predictable. In my hands, I held an old Christmas present from Mr. Sinnet and Dr. MaiJabi that Jekyll, being the sentimental bugger that he was, rarely left home without. It was, as Jekyll would say, "Quite the ingenious trinket." My hand trailed down from the smooth domed surface to the bronzed bottom. I tightened my fingers over a knob and twisted. The mechanism whirred to life, a metal-plated crystal sealed at the bottom of the chamber twisted upward touching the ectoplasm within and causing it to bubble. The goo began to glow and I closed my eyes against the sudden onslaught of pale blue light. See? A nifty lantern that doesn't require refueling. I blinked my eyes a few more times before holding the contraption out at arm's length and peering out at the twisted tunnels beyond.

What to do, what to do. There was no place for me in this city now, Jekyll had made sure of that. I felt the tug of hopelessness followed quickly by overwhelming annoyance. " Blimey, are you as daft as Jekyll believes! " I thought to myself. " Why the fuck did we go through all this trouble in the first place! " Yes, I had wanted more than anything to go to the Blackfog Bazaar, but the situation had changed. Things had gone so terribly off course. I had wanted Jekyll to yield to me, but I had never meant to completely usurp him. Now I didn't know where he was and...

" Fuck Jekyll. Are you really worried about the man that sold you out at his first convenience? He'll probably be back yanking our reigns when he's good an' ready. In the meantime why not have a bit of fun?"

Yeah. Yeah, why not? And if there was any place for me to be my true self it was the Blackfog Bazaar. I could drown myself happily in the mad science and magic of the place and I wouldn't even have to worry about Jekyll breathing down my neck and whispering in my ear like an innate buzzing insect.

And the market's location was a secret, hidden from coppers and polite folk.

With new resolve, I sploshed ahead. There was no way to get very far very fast while wading through knee-high filth, so I ventured out far enough to be out of the peelers reach before climbing another ladder to the surface.

I stumbled out into the open air, taking deep breaths. I shucked the heavy coat as I head over to the nearest alley, rolling it into a ball and chucking it with bitter satisfaction at a bin. towards the nearest alley. That done, I rolled up sleeves, loosened the tie around my neck, and started to shimmy up the nearest drain pipe. London unfurled out before me, roofs appearing and disappearing behind rising clouds of brown haze. I smile at her, my eyes glinting in the dark.

Blackfog Bazaar here I come.

---

Notes:

For anyone who doesn't know 'coffee house' was a slang term for brothels back in Victorian England. And 'kettle drums' is slang for exactly what it sounds like. *facepalms* Oh Hyde, you perve.

Hyde actually surprised me twice this chapter. First with the whole, disarming Poole by implying his daughter is a prostitute gambit. *Sigh* I was going to write that out, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like exactly the kind of stunt Hyde would pull. Second surprise was Hyde's decision to go to the Blackfog Bazaar instead of doing something more sensible. I'm actually excited about this change as it has pulled the future of the story into some interesting directions.