#loti

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The two women liberated a schooner, chasing down the Nautilus that same night. Using a spare mooring line, Loti lassoed one of the spines on the rampart of the submarine, reeling them in from behind, the pair surprising the crew with their sudden appearance.

Nemo gaped in confusion, first at his gathered crew, then at Loti now being embraced by Kai, "You heard her," was all she said, head nodding in the direction of Humility's path.

Nemo's mouth closed tight as he turned to pursue her.

"I told you, this was not a safe place for you!" His words thundered through the doorway before his boots, Humility rounding on him as he pulled the door closed behind them.

"You told me you would not allow me to come. ALLOW ME. You, nor any man gives me allowance. I am a valuable member of this crew and I am coming. Or need I remind you the many times I saved your life not to mention the lives of everyone else here on board!"

She was furious, the fire in her eyes matching the flushing lick to her cheeks. His wife had only ever been docile, pleasing. She was raised to be, as much as he was raised to be gentlemanly, fit in, assimilate.

But not Humility. She didn't care about the rules of upper society, didn't feel beholden to them. She refused to conform, demanding her space, demanding her voice. Something he was fascinated by, finding he easily gave into her.

But this was different. this wasn't about her being capable, this was about her safety, as he'd told her earlier. This was about the fact that the whole British empire was going to come down on them in a matter of hours, and he couldn't have her marked as one of them. Her life, her work, her promise was worth more than the future he saw for himself and the crew. Her privilege, he thought, would allow her easy reentry. Forgiveness.

"Humility I am only looking out for what's best for you. Where you will be safe-"

"SAFE" the word explodes out of her, a powder keg in kindling, pronged fingers shoving at him. "Safe. As if I'm not safe with you, as if near Pitt is anywhere safe. The second we split up he brutishly grabbed me and dragged me back to his estate at gun-point, demanding our wedding night-"

It's at those words Nemo found himself seized by a cold fear. "He what?" Rushing forward all he heard was the liquid rushing his ears, Humility barely hearing the question at all, it was released so quietly.

He grips her, fingers firm around biceps as he shifts her side to side, turning himself with her, inspecting, though she doesn't know for what. And then his grip grows tighter, fingers digging in, fury bubbling up, "If he hurt you-"

"-He didn't." The response is immediate, seemingly pulled in attachment to his. Humility, wedging a hand between them, places it on his cheek, guiding his sight back to hers. And then more softly, reassuring, she repeats, "Nemo, he didn't."

His eyes search her, search for truth, search for lie. Finding none, he lets out a breath, chest aching with the release, and relaxes his hold on her arms, thumbs sweeping, soothing, himself as much as her. "I-" He himself warned her only hours before about how dangerous Pitt could be. He should have known. Known better. There was no Englishman worth trusting. None that upheld the honor they so outwardly boasted and she was a key player in their plan. Without Humility tricking Pitt out of his shares they had nothing...and then there was the kiss. Something he's sure only added insult to injury.

He swallows thickly, feeling shame. He should have known. Even still he can't let go, can't put the proper distance between them he knows he should.

"Loti. Loti followed us. She stabbed him. Again."

Both let out a huffed laugh and a small smile at the thought, Nemo pulling her closer, folding his arms around her. Still she'd been in danger, but now she's not. Now she is safe.

He feels her arms wrap around him in response, feels her face nuzzle against his chest, his body reacting, holding her tighter, closer.

With such close proximity, time stretching on, he becomes very aware of minute details; her soft chest colliding lightly with his, his heart pounding rapidly, the faint smell of gunpowder and mechanical oil clinging to her hair and her vest, her hair, wild silken tickles to his jaw, her hands as they glide up his back, Humility rising in his hold, his head following the direction of fingers guiding him down, and her lips landing on his again.

It's soft, and gentle, and fully intentional, soft until her fingers tangle in his hair, hooking, and pulling, pulling something more rough from him. His arms constrict tighter, crushing her, lifting her, harsh lips devouring demanding ones, the small unseemly gasps encouraging a quest for moans indecent- decorum be damned, until abruptly the kiss is broken, both pulling away, breathing heavy.

Loosening his hold, she slides down his chest, Nemo lowering her back to her toes, tilting his forehead to rest on hers, "Where does this leave us now, Miss. Lucas?"

He's breathless as he asks, no option is a good one. He could take her to America, but it would only be a matter of time, he's sure, before she found herself in trouble again. Perhaps with him was the safer option.

He was asking her this time, not commanding. Humility swallows, fingers curling around, then flattening the stiff lapels of his coat.

The feel of his arm around her waist never did quite feel unwelcome, now it felt all but vital. The weight of him connected to her a necessity.