There's such a fine line

Nellie stepped forward with no introduction, approached the man of the house with quick footsteps and raised her hand, smacking him across the face. The sound hung in the air for a moment, Poole unsure how to react and John unsure how long he could hide his snickering.

No, it was Nellie.  And when Nellie marched right up to Jekyll and slapped him with no preamble, Hyde laughed outright.  If he could have shaken the girl’s hand right then and there, he would have.  Because Henry Jekyll deserved nothing more in the world than that slap, right at that moment.  It was a most deserved slap, and his face recoiled from the blow of it, even as the sound rang in the air.  

"What else am I supposed to do?" he asked Nellie, an almost pitiful sort of whine in his tone.  

"You could have listened to me in the first place!” Hyde hissed inside the mind that they shared.  "But instead, you had to sting Emma AND Lucy along for as long as you could, instead of just seeing how special my Lucy was right at the start!"

"You’re s’pposed t’fix it! You’re s’pposed t’be a good man!" She spat, hands on her hips as she leaned in dangerously close to Henry’s face, "You hurt the girl, and now she’s back to her old tricks! You and Hyde, both a’you, not allowed anywhere near her. And she’s killin’ herself!"

Oh, how she wanted to slap him again.

At Nellie's words, the man went pale, all the color draining out of his face.  

Regardless of any consequences, Hyde shoved to the forefront, putting his hands on Nellie's shoulders. 

"You have to get her to see (us) me," he begged.  "I (we) will do everything in my (our) power to fix this, but I (we) have to be able to see her to help!"  

A whimper left her lips, and she buried her face in his neck again, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw. “I missed you…the curse broke, everyone remembered except you and I thought I’d lost you for good…I never meant…I didn’t…I caused all this trouble, I didn’t mean too…”

Which was unusual in and of itself.  Back in London, he had seen himself as entitled to everything he had had, partly because that was the way that Jekyll felt.  

The curse, now that he remembered it, and knew who he truly was, had taught Hyde a lesson in humility, one that he might never have learned otherwise.  

"Oh, Lucy," he breathed, burying his face in her hair until she pulled away, in tears.  

He reached a hand out to her, wiping the tears from her cheeks.  

"My sweet Lucy," he murmured, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her.  "No, Lucy, it wasn't your fault....I drove you to it, with my anger and my jealousy."  

Ace’s white tee was stained with whiskey, rum from wiping the tables, and the chambord that splashed her while mixing a Red Velvet. “Damn…” She huffed as she ran her fingers through her hair. The girl stood in the restroom, fluffing up for the night crowd. Thankfully she always kept a few spare changes in her work locker. Just in case. 

Donning, quickly, a red miniskirt and a black scoop neck tank, she tugged on her boots and checked herself. “It’ll do…” She ran her fingers through her hair once more, satisfied with the curls that fell about her face. 

The night crowd started early, there was a live band that night so various patrons arrived sooner than later. It enabled them access to their preferred seats before the groupies arrived. Ace didn’t mind, meant more tips. And if the band was good, she might even be inclined to kick a few glasses off the bar. 

Music played, and drinks were made; regulars popped in and out through the evening. Then in walked him. He was suave, well kept, and tipped well. Not to mention, he was definitely a patron of The Rabbit Hole. “Well how’s it hangin’ Doc?” She shouted over the music, wide smile on her face. She ran a white rag over the bar where the man was headed, ensuring he had a clean place to lean. She rested her arms on the wood, her chest heaving slightly in the process, “The usual?” Dr. Damian Harris was probably her favorite customer, and she couldn’t resist laying it on thick whenever he strolled into her little corner of hell.

Which meant, of course, that he was headed for The Rabbit Hole, his favorite place to get a drink.  He was a regular and people in the place knew him, something that he quite enjoyed.  

Pushing the doors to the bar open, he stood in the doorway, surveying the bar with a sort of ... proprietorial air.  With the amount of money he spent here, he might as well own the place.

Hmmm, that was something to look into.  He could enjoy owning The Rabbit Hole, he was sure.  

Glancing around the bar once more, he saw that Ace was the one behind the bar and a smirk slipped onto his face. 

My, she was looking fine tonight.  Mmm-mmm,  he could get used to looking at her.  

"It's not going to be hanging long, with the way you look tonight," he responded, a charming grin slipping onto his face.  They exchanged this sort of banter regularly, but it hadn't yet gone anywhere. 

Which was a pity, really.

"The usual sounds bloody fantastic, Ace, thanks," he said, raising his voice to be heard above the din.  True, he took his scotch neat, but it always tasted better when Ace was the one behind the bar.  

Emma hadn’t been invited to the party, as usual; but by word of mouth (meaning she had convinced Rich to tell her) she had learned the time and place and had shown up anyway. She walked around, wine goblet in her hand, chatting idly but eventually ending up in a lone corner. Glancing around, she saw someone who was doing the same thing, and decided to approach them.

Since his fiancee had called off their engagement, Dr. Jekyll hadn't exactly been the most social of creatures.  What with dealing with Hyde and trying to figure out a way to tell Lucy about himself (themself?), he'd been to busy to pay much attention to the social dues that he was supposed to pay.  

But, Poole, faithful servant that he was, had convinced Jekyll that a part was just the thing to help make the society of London forget his recent ... oddness.  

He'd greeted many of the guests and was enjoying a drink by himself when a young woman approached him, one he'd not seen before.  

A smile slipped onto his face at her comment and he took a sip of his drink before answering. 

"Yes, perhaps I should have actually heard them play before hiring them for such an event," he responded, though he agreed with the young woman. 

Bowing slightly in her direction, he introduced himself.  

The young woman gave her name as Elphaba Thropp, a lovely, if unusual, name.  Jekyll was quite willing to hazard that that was not the only unusual thing about her; she had an air of intelligence and stubbornness about her that quite intrigued him.  After all, most women in this day were rather …. suppressed and discouraged when it came to being outspoken.  Perhaps that was one of the things that had really drawn him to Lucy; despite her … situation, she was still absolutely an individual.  

And just as he was thinking about Lucy, Miss Thropp mentioned the name.  Surely she couldn’t mean Lucy Harris….but how many Lucys was he acquainted with, really?  

"Please, Miss Thropp, have a seat and I’ll look at it right away," he told her, gesturing to one of the chairs by the fire.  It was a chilly morning and it wouldn’t do for her to catch cold on top of her injury.  

So, until he gave her reason to do otherwise, she could be nice. Or at least, she could try to be. Not that she came here with the intention of getting into a fight… She still wasn’t sure why she’d felt she could come here, especially with Lucy being asleep but apparently it was okay as he didn’t seem to bothered by it. He didn’t seem to be to bothered by anything. Which was intriguing. Vaguely, she wondered what he’d dealt with in the past to make him this not bothered (not the right word, but it was the closest she could come to it) by her. It was refreshing, actually. Two seemingly normal people in one place who didn’t care about her verdigree. Had to be some sort of record. 

"Thank you, sir." She muttered, determined to be polite. Which, despite what others may think, was something she was capable of. Elphaba took the seat he gestured to, sitting lightly in it. 

"For doing all of this." And actually being a decent human being. Despite herself, she laughed at his comment. “I doubt it, sir. Plenty of people have tried that, and somehow, it never seems to work for them. If you could just patch it up, that’d be enough." She joked, watching him go after his kit.

He blinked at her joke, not quite understanding for a moment, but that quickly passed and he laughed, genuinely amused.  

"While I could attempt to help you in that manner, as well, I'm more of a physical doctor, most of the time."  He had seen his share of psychiatric cases, though, and was certainly qualified for that sort of thing, however. 

Moving the hair from the wound, he murmured, "Well, it looks quite clean, which is a bit surprising.  But it looks like you'll need stitches," he told her, almost apologetically.  

Dr. Jekyll stood to pour the young woman a glass of wine; she would need it. 

"Here, drink this.  What I'm about to do will sting a little bit, but it will be much better in the long run."

"I’m afraid that the more you move, the worse your leg will be," he responded to her question as the nurse handed her the hospital gown.  "However, we can allow you a wheelchair," the doctor murmured, glancing at her injured limb.  It was definitely broken, that much he could tell simply by looking at it.  

With barely a moments thought, she pushed herself to sit up, leaning on her elbows, “Yeah, fine, just…yeah, I’ll use the wheelchair." Lucia glanced up at the hospital staff with a wary eye— she wasn’t really fond of being touched.

"As soon as we get your x-rays, we'll see about getting you fixed up," he said coolly.  There was more to this situation than the patient was telling, and he needed to know the full story in order to properly treat her.