In all likelyhood, this story will be a one shot. I do not have any further plans to continue it. This was simply a little idea that popped into my head the other day, and I haven't been able to make it go away, and so the result is this.

I base this on the father/son relationship that Allan and Tom have in the movie, and the fact that they are so much alike. They could almost BE father and son.

I hope I do not upset anyone with this idea, but to be honest, I can't believe no one else has ever thought of it.

To disclaim, I own nothing. Not even my car. I can't name all the people who do own rights or have the honor of being able to say they have created anything. I do not know if Mark Twain ever gave a last name to Aunt Polly, or if Tom's parents where ever named either. I've made up all the names in here. Blame me if anything is wrong.

Thanks for stopping to look, and I hope you like it.

Polly Walker stared down at her hands, covered in lady like white gloves, as they twisted together in her lap. She didn't look up, but waited for her sister's words of reproach. She deserved it, she knew. The situation she found herself in was entirely her fault, and she would take whatever censure her sister would likely give to her.

Abigail didn't say a word as she placed the fine, bone chine tea pot down on the table. She sat down and unfolded the napkin by her plate and spread it across her lap. The silence was almost killing Polly. She wished Abi would yell, or cry, or do anything at all by stay so silent.

"Oh, Polly."

The words where said with pity, but with no anger touching them. Polly dared to raise her eyes to meet here sister's almost identical blue ones. They shared many similar features, the same blonde hair and height. If it where not for the fact that Abi was 2 years older, they could have been taken for twins.

"Does father know?" Abi asked, finally getting over her shock enough to pour the orange infused tea into the tea cups which so perfectly matched the pot, cream pitcher, and sugar bowl. It was a setting that Polly had come to except of her sister. Abigail may not have a privileged life anymore, but she knew how to set a fine table, and make a nice home.

"No," Polly said, and stared at the tea now swirling in her cup. She had no desire for tea right now, nor appetite for the crustless tea sandwiches that Abi offered. She had felt sick in the mornings of late, and the thought of food could make her nauseous. "Neither him nor mother know anything. I could not bother Mother with such news. I'm not sure her heart could take the strain, or the shame."

"Bite you tongue, Polly. You could never cause shame to the family. I'm sure I've caused enough to last a lifetime." Abigail had gone against her parents wishes when she married Matthew Sawyer, a kind and gentle, but poor farmer. Well, sort of poor. He did not have the history of family money, or social standing that her parents would have looked for in a husband for their daughter, but he did well enough growing crops of sweet corn and raising diary cows. It was not the life Abi had been raised in, but she was happy, and her happiness was all that mattered to Polly.

"Not like this. I've committed the worst sin."

"Love is not a sin, Polly. The sin is only what one does with it."

"I'm not sure if you could call it love. Not in the accepted sense. I simply….I could not help myself."

"Hmmm." Abi considered this. "He must have been charming indeed."

"Charming. Yes." Polly smiled. "And handsome, and brave. Adventurous and exciting. I've never met anyone quite like him before. I was carried away. I should have been more cautious, but I wasn't thinking I suppose."

"No." Abi poured milk into her tea, turning the dark liquid to a light brown hue. She offered the pitcher to her sister, but Polly shook her head, and instead selected a thin slice of lemon off of a plate.

"I should say not. But, what is done is done, I suppose. There is really nothing to be done about it now, is there?"

"I wouldn't say that. I know there are ways. I've heard of other girls getting themselves into trouble. There are old slave woman who know of ways to reverse the problem."

"Polly! Surely you are not thinking of doing such an awful thing."

Polly sighed. "No. No, I couldn't. If what I've done is not a sin, then doing that certainly would be. It's just.., Abi I have no idea what I should do."

"And you think you can not tell Father? I'm sure he would contact this man. Bring him here and make sure he married you."

"It's too ridiculous to think, Abi. For one thing, he's in Africa. And he has a son. A darling boy. I could not disrupt his life. To bring him here to make an honest woman of me. Me! I'm no prize."

"Polly, you are a dear, lovely girl. I am sure any man…"

"But I don't want just any man!"

"You want this one."

Polly had to concede the point. Abi was right, as she so often was. "Perhaps I do. But I know I shall not have him. It's impossible, can't you see?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

Abi wished more then anything she could give Polly a perfect solution. But in such a situation, there where no perfect solutions. Father would be upset, to be sure. Abi was certain, though, that he would blame himself more then he would blame Polly. He was the one who gave in and took his daughter to Africa with him. Africa, of all places! Polly had insisted that other girls her age got to travel overseas, why shouldn't she? Of course, those other girls traveled to London, or Paris, or some other cosmopolitan European city. Not Africa. Deep, dark, and exotic. Abi could see how Polly would have been seduced by such an place. And, obviously, seduced by one who it seemed possessed the same exoticness.

"So, what should happen to the child, then?"

Polly could feel her eyes begin to water. Darn it all, she seemed to cry at the drop of a hat these days. "I don't know." There they went, large, wet tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt such the silly fool.

"I can't do this, Abi."

"Yes you can! Of course you can, and you must."

"But how? Father would be so angry. And mother, this will kill her. You know how weak she is."

"Oh, bull. Mother is as strong as an Ox, she just doesn't like anyone to know that. It might make her seem less a lady if anyone knew."

"And what would she do if anyone should find out about this? It would be a scandal beyond all proportions."

"Not if there is a way to hide it."

"Hide it? Abi, how can I hide it. I'm two months along already. I know I will start to show soon."

"What about Aunt Marian's place? The cottage in the mountains. You could go there, tell people you are visiting relatives elsewhere."

"And when I come back with a child?"

"Well, I was thinking, while you are away, I should simply have to go back home. To take mother of course. I mean, with her being so weak, and all."

Polly narrowed her gaze at her sister. What was she getting at? Abi always had a way of telling you something without actually saying anything. She often thought Abi would have made an excellent Lawyer, if woman where allowed to enter into such a profession.

"What do you mean?"

"While I am there, I could write back to Matthew. Tell him I've found myself with child. You know how we have been wanting one."

Yes, that was true. In 3 years of marriage, Abi and Matthew had so far been unable to conceive. Abi had begun to fear that she was unable to carry a child of her own.

"Oh!" Polly cried, suddenly understanding what Abi was saying. "Abi, you can't…I mean.., you wouldn't…"

"Oh, wouldn't I? The way I see it, it is a perfect solution. You are to have a child, and can not raise it. I am not, but want one more then anything."

"But it should not be yours"

"What has that to do with anything? You are my blood, and that would mean that the child you carry is my blood as well. I shall love it with all my heart, I promise you that."

"I have no doubt that you would. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know."

"Save for you." Abi reached across the table to grab her sister's hand. She squeezed it gently. "Polly, this must be done."

"What about Matthew? Can he love a child that is not his? I will not condemn any child to an unhappy life."

"And how happy would his life be to be reviled because he had the unhappy accident of being born out of wedlock? I'm offering an out, here, Polly. One that would benefit us both. And Matthew…I would hate to lie to him, but he need not know. I will write him to say that we have finally been blessed. I shall wearing padding under my clothes to simulate pregnancy. I shall also say I am too weak to return here during my confinement, so I must stay with our parents. And when you time comes, I will come to you, and take the child. Then bring it here to raise as my own."

Polly felt like sobbing again. How she dearly loved her sister. That Abi would do this for her was going beyond sisterly duty. "I …I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. I promise you, Polly, the child will be loved and cared for. And you can visit as much as you like. See the child grow, be an Aunt to him or her."

"Aunt Polly." She said, lost in thought. "Yes…I think I would like to be called Aunt Polly."