The sound of gentle approaching thunder was less than foreboding, and the two silent observers of the looming dark storm clouds actually rather enjoyed the soothing rumbles as they approached. There was no lightning however. The rain had yet to come.

            A pensive atmosphere had settled over the pair as they stood oh so silently and still on the conning tower, side by side, their shoulders nearly touching. The figure on the right sighed, her dark auburn hair blowing over her shoulder slightly as the stormy sea breeze washed over her, and she closed her cool blue eyes, tilting her head back slightly to bask in its refreshing taste and smell. Wilhelmina Harker smiled, just subtlely, at the corners of her full lips.

            Her companion angled his head slightly to look at her, his own mouth forming a slight expression of content happiness, simply by regarding her face. His green eyes were filled with warmth and admiration, and he sighed as well, before gazing back out at the beauty of the ocean, his blonde locks tumbling around his head and face. Thomas Sawyer leaned forward on the railing, and said, "I've always enjoyed storms for some reason."

            "They do have a comforting aura about them somehow," Mina responded from his side, shifting slightly forward to be nearer the railing, though she did not grip it with her gloved hands.

            Tom nodded, slowly, almost longingly, and looked to her, his face tilted sideways a little, and his smile fell. "What are you doing up here, Mrs. Harker?" Formality ruled over the League, no matter how they yearned for it not to be so.

             Mina's gaze turned on the young spy, and she seemed somewhat filled with wisdom as she softly replied, "I am waiting for the storm."

            "That's not all though, is it?" he asked, turning full on to face her, one hand gripping the cool metal of the rail next to him as the breeze tore at his jacket.

            "What else would you wish for me to say, Agent Sawyer?"

            Tom cast his green eyes downward for a moment, contemplated his options, and then looked back up, asking, "Did you ever love Dorian Gray?"

            Mina did not seem in the slightest taken aback by his question, and she even smiled sadly. "I think, once… yes, I did. Many years ago, I loved Dorian Gray."

            Tom nodded, slowly, and regarded the approaching clouds, the thunder grumbling in the skies one more, dragging out its melody.

            "But no longer." Her voice was almost whispered, and Tom felt a hand on his arm against the railing, gloved fingertips brushing over his bare palm. His eyes watched the contact, as though transfixed, and he felt a quickening of his heart.

            "Would you hold it against me if I said you were beautiful?" he asked, hesitantly, looking to her with narrowed eyes, the wind biting at his face slightly. It had picked up somewhat now.

            "No I would not."

            He looked to her face, and frowned. "I don't know why you're here," he admitted with a furrowing of the brow. "Here, now, with me… on this team. It's… you're…"

            Mina frowned also, and her hand lifted to trace a gentle line down the side of his face as she asked, "What is it? Don't be afraid…"

            "A rose between thorns," he whispered, and breathed in at her touch, closing his eyes. This couldn't be real. Mina didn't feel that way about him.

            … Did she?

            When he looked to her, she was smiling, and… were those tears in those beautiful blue eyes? She leaned forward then, and rewarded him with a soft, warm kiss, their lips brushing for just a few seconds… seconds that the American wished would last forever.

            "You're sweet," she told him, and he felt his heart constrict for a moment. He had heard this before. "And you're young."

            He looked to her, almost sadly, waiting for the conclusion. When it came, he was surprised… and not in a bad way.

            "Both are suddenly traits that I hold in high regard…"