DiabloCat: Okay, I lied. I said it would be up shortly, and it's been about two months since then. Sorry. Anyhoo, here it is!
CHAPTER 3: WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES AROUND
Skinner stared hopelessly about him. Whose stupid idea was it to make a ship this big? Not to mention everywhere looked the same. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the one the freaky lady had called Nemo who was to blame.
He slumped against a wall. It was no use. Try as he might, he couldn't remember where to go. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember much. But right now, he'd settle for having enough memory to get him out of here. It was no fun being lost.
The thief jumped. He really had to get used to strangers using his name. He turned and saw the speaker, a young man with a mop of blonde hair, green eyes and an American accent.
"What are you doing?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping a wary eye on the man. "Oh, nothing much."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember who I am, do you?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I don't, but you do look sorta familiar." Skinner cocked his head at the American, not that anyone could tell. He was only wearing his coat. "Tim, ain't it?"
"Heh, close enough. I don't suppose you know your way around this boat, do you?"
The spy chuckled. "Don't let Nemo hear you call it a boat. The Nautilus is a 'lady'."
"Nautilus." Skinner rolled the word around his mouth. "Strange. And who's this Nemo chap everyone keeps talking about?"
Tom grinned. "He's the reason you're in this state. He says he heard someone sneaking around outside his room, so he opened the door fast to surprise them. Unfortunately, there were no attackers – just you."
"I got amnesia from a door?" Skinner groaned. "That's pathetic. It couldn't have been something decent, could it?"
Tom shrugged. "Well, Nemo is pretty strong, and the doors are pretty hard."
"Yeah, but it's hardly going to impress anyone," grumbled the thief. "What girl would care about a guy that knocks himself out on chunks of wood?"
"Are you suggesting a girl would care about you anyway?"
"Hey, now that was uncalled for! We just met, and you're already insulting me?"
Tom cocked his head. "What do you mean 'just met?'"
Skinner sighed. "Oh right. Sorry. I…"
"Forgot?" Tom offered.
Skinner gave an invisible wry smile. "Can't have that much left to forget."
Tom patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't worry; it'll come back to you eventually. Mina said it wasn't permanent."
"Mina? Isn't she the one who goes all evil-demon when she's pissed?"
"Uh, yeah. Something like that."
Skinner shuddered. "She just ain't natural. Down right freaky," he muttered.
Tom gave the invisible man a playful nudge. "And who are you to talk about freaks? You're invisible! In case you haven't noticed, everyone here is strange. Hence the name 'Extraordinary' Gentlemen."
"So where were you trying to go?"
"I was trying to find somewhere where I could grab a bite to eat. I'm starving."
"The kitchen's this way. Come on."
Skinner trailed after Tom, looking about curiously. Whoever Nemo was, he sure knew how to build a decent boat…er, ship.
They came to a large door, which Tom pushed open. Skinner slipped in after him, eyeing the door suspiciously as he went. The kitchen was full of activity, cooks bustling about everywhere, chopping, stirring, boiling and frying. Skinner's eyes widened as he took in the scrumptious dishes waiting to be served. His mouth started to water.
Suddenly an ominous creak sounded out. Skinner's head snapped upwards. A large shelf, on which perched several heavy iron pots and pans, was the source. As Skinner frowned at it, it dipped down a little further and let out another creak.
Skinner's jaw dropped in horror. The shelf was about to collapse! No one else had noticed; cooks tend to be one-minded when it comes to food. He looked frantically for Tom – and saw him over the other side of the kitchen. He groaned. Why did Yanks have to have such bad timing?
With one last agonised squeal, the shelf gave way, along with the pots and pans.
With the nimble speed of a thief, Skinner dashed forwards, ramming into one cook, who then banged into another, sending them both flying out of the way.
Tom wheeled round at the crash. "What the -" he muttered, then saw Skinner's coat lying on the floor. "Damn it!"
He hurried over to his fallen friend, weaving around the startled cooks. He grabbed the thief's shoulder. "Skinner! Skinner, are you okay?"
Skinner blearily opened his eyes and groaned as a lancing pain shot through his head. "Oww."
"Do you recognise me?" Tom asked anxiously.
"Yeah, course I do. You're Tom, I'm Skinner and…" He paused as he realised what this meant.
Tom stepped back as Skinner leaped to his feet. "IT'S BACK! My memory's back!" He ran to the kitchen door. "Guess what? It's back!" He flung the door open, heedless of the thump that resulted.
"Guys!" As Skinner stepped out the door, he accidentally kicked something. Something that groaned. Skinner looked down, and his heart sank.
"Oh for the love of God," he murmured dolefully as he looked at the limp form of Nemo, flat on his back on the floor. "What did I do to deserve this?"
DiabloCat: Yah, it's bizarre. Not that great either. But hey, at least I finished it.