Disclaimer: I do not own Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World.

Author's Note: My friend recently gave me Season 1 DVD and I've been watching it way to much. Anywho, I liked the idea of Marguerite's descendents traveling back in time. So I'm working with that.

This takes place after the Catherine and Kemper episode. However, it's important for the story that you recall in the last season - the story line with alternate planes of reality.

We didn't seeanything like that in the beginning, but if we saw it in the end (Season 3) than it's safe toassume that they still exist in the future.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I hope you review!

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"Ow! You know… I really dislike you right now!" A boy's voice growled in frustration, as he brushed away twigs from his face..

"Well suck it up; you'll adore me once we get to the tree house. Mum will be delighted!"

"Actually, Izzie, I think Mum is going to want to ring our necks for roaming through the jungle alone."

"Honestly, Will, it's not as if we're children!" The girl responded, shooting him a teasing look, "You're a strapping boy of fourteen, and I'm a young woman of twelve. Not to mention we've lived here our entire lives."

"We don't live here anymore… thank god." The boy said gratefully, causing his sister to giggle.

"Don't worry, we're almost there," she consoled.

"Good, because I didn't like the looks of that shimmery thing we saw back there." Will said looking behind him.

Izzie shrugged, "It was harmless, went right through us, and nothing happened. Stop being such a worry wart."

"I should be in New York; instead I'm here, in this tropical heat, being devoured by flesh eating insects and probably stalked by carnivorous reptiles all to acquire an object which no one even remembers and which will probably be overlooked in all the hub-bub anyway…"

Izzie bestowed him a beaming smile, "That is why you are the best older brother in the world – the sacrifices you are willing make."

"Hmm," Will said, gruffly, not looking over at her. His complaining and grumbling were not in any way distracting him from his carefully honed skills of awareness.

"Besides," Izzie continued, "… you know Mum will love it. We'll top everyone else's gifts… no one will think- What?" she said, interrupting herself as Will stopped walking.

"Something's wrong." He said softly, bringing his rifle up and turning to survey the area with serious, dark eyes.

Slowly, Izzie took steps closer to her brother, "In what way?"

"The sounds are different, Izzie, can't you tell?" he paused then mimicked, "We've lived here our entire lives…"

She ignored him, and instead brought in her focus and listened to the world around her, "They're just birds, Will." She said relaxing a little.

"Exactly, since when do we have parrots, in this area of the jungle?"

"So a few of them decided to move… big deal. We haven't been to the tree house in months, Will. Things change."

The boy shook his head, "Not like this-"

Izzie huffed and turned away before he could finish, intent on a continuing down the trail, "Stop overreacting and let's go; we're almost there."

"Look at this path Izzie…" he called to her when she'd taken a few steps.

"What about it?" she said, her tone sullen as she stopped walking.

"Don't you think it's a trifle too… I don't know… new for something that's been traveled almost daily for 19 years?"

A moment later, the young girl to look at her brother, a funny feeling of dread filling her, "You're right."

"I usually am."

"Shut up."

"Let's head back."

"Good plan."

Together the duo turned to run back in the direction they'd come. Only a couple of steps had been taken, when a Raptor jumped out in front of them, hissing its ugly cry of death.

"Or not!" Izzie cried as she, swerved in her stride. Will brought up his rifle again and shot at the beast. Another jumped out of the trees.

"Run!" he cried.

Hand in hand the children ran in their original direction, the beasts following close behind.

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"Did you hear that?" Challenger asked his group of explorers. They were all outside the tree house, setting up a more sophisticated form of the electric fence that had been so useful while Summerlee was injured.

"Gunshot…" Roxton said, already reaching for his rifle and hat.

"And Raptors…" Veronica added, headed in the direction the noises had come from.

"And too close…" Ned stated, following behind with the others.

They'd only had to run a few feet before encountering the pair of travelers – and the raptors intent on having them for a snack.

Roxton put three bullets in one, Veronica a dagger in another, and Marguerite aimed and shot two bullets directly into the head of the last.

"That was a mighty good shot, if I don't say so myself," She commented after they'd surveyed the area and made sure there weren't anymore.

"But you always do say so, Marguerite," Roxton replied storing his guns as he turned to face the new guests.

Around him his fellow explorers were doing the same; storing their weapons and turning to face the people who'd rushed into their little section of the jungle and brought predators with them.

They were children.

That was the first thing every one noticed.

Secondly, was the fact that they were very pale, almost shaky as they surveyed the people in front of them.

"You must be scared out of your wits," Veronica said smiling warmly at them, "Let's go up to the house and I'll make you some tea." She offered, trying to ease them.

Instead though, the children continued to glance from one to the other, their eyes frantically darting every one and finally alighting on Roxton, followed by Marguerite, followed by each other.

They stared at each other with wide, frightened eyes.

"This can't be happening…" the girl whispered.

The boy glanced over at them again, before looking back to her and whispering, "I'm afraid it is."

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"Okay drink that up, I'm sure you'll feel better," Veronica said kindly.

"Veronica's tea's work magic," Professor Summerlee told the young people.

"We know," Izzie said, as she brought the tea cup to her mouth.

"You do?" Ned asked, ever the inquisitive reporter, "How?"

The two glanced at each other again, before the girl let her cup clatter to saucer. She stood suddenly and began to pace.

The explorers watched her, they had escorted their very silent visitors to the tree house. Not commenting on the looks they were giving each other, or the looks they were giving every thing else around them.

Challenger had invited them to sit, and Veronica had set about making the tea. Roxton had put away their weapons, while Summerlee, Ned and Marguerite quietly observed their guests.

"This can't be happening." The girl repeated, her eyes fixed on her companion, "This isn't possible."

The boy glared at her, rising from his seat as well, "It serves us right. What were we thinking! What was I thinking letting you talk me into this! It was harmless!" he mocked her, "Apparently not!"

"How was I supposed to know! And don't yell at me!" she cried.

"You deserve to be yelled at and when Dad gets a hold of you he's going to put you over his knee!"

"Mum would never let him!"

"Oh, so you'd rather face her punishment!"

Quite suddenly the girl's steam left her and her face crumpled into tears. The boy instantly softened.

"We've ruined their party." She whispered, lowering her gaze.

He went to her and gently took her hands in his, "Don't waste your tears on that, Izzie, I think we have bigger things to worry about…" he said.

They remained silent for a few moments, the girl quietly getting her emotions under control while the boy appeared lost in thought.

"If you tell us what's going on, maybe we can help you," Ned offered, his eyes still lit with curiosity.

All the explorers hadnoticed that although their visitors carried a rifle and a dagger – that was all they carried.

No packs, no canteens, no hint that they'd been traveling any length of time. They were dressed in comfortable clothes, but it looked almost a little too fashionable for the jungle. The girl's hair was arrayed in a careful design and held tiny butterfly clips in it, her blouse was most certainly silk and by its shade of blue they could tell relatively new, her khaki pants was pressed and had tiny blue butterfly's embroidered on it. The boy was dressed neatly in tan pants and a dark green shirt; neither of them looked in any way harassed by the jungle, on the contrary they looked like a couple of kids who'd gone out to take a stroll.

"What are your names? Where did you come from?" Veronica questioned them. Her friendliness fading into suspicion as these too visitors failed to respond positively.

"We'll escort you back safely to where ever it is," Roxton offered, kindly.

"You'll escort them back, Lord Roxton, I've had quite a tiring day." Marguerite stated, as she sipped a little tea.

"Yes, I can see where all that standing and watching others work can be exhausting." He drawled.

She shot him a nasty look.

A giggle shot out of the young girl, earning her a glare from her companion.

"What?" she asked him, pulling her hands away.

"Nothing funny is going on."

"Some things never change." She said, and glanced at Roxton and Marguerite.

"We need to get out of here," he said to her.

"We're going to need their help to do it."

"Do you think its okay, I mean… is right to…"

"Do you think we have a choice?" She asked him, her gaze pointed.

"As amusing as it is to watch you conduct your own private conversation in our presence, I believe you were asked a few questions, and the least you can do – seeing as how we saved your lives – is answer them." Marguerite's voice was distinctly annoyed.

Just before turning to face them all, the girl shot her companion an amused look.

"We're… we're from the future," the boy said softly.

Silence filled the tree house, before a collective groaned filled it.

"Did you come to kill Marguerite?" Veronica asked after a moment, her tone perhaps not as wary as it should've been.

"What are you warning us about this time?" Marguerite asked, shooting Veronica a glare.

The children stared at them in shock.

"A few months ago we had people from the future arrive, intent on killing Marguerite in order to save the world from a plague." Summerlee explained.

"You don't look as futuristic as they did though," Challenger stated, eyeing them more closely.

"Well…" the boy began.

"We're not here to kill or warn anyone," the girl interrupted.

"We're here by mistake," the boy added.

"By mistake?" Ned questioned, "How can you be here by mistake? Don't you actively have to attempt to travel through time?"

"Kemper said he used the atom." Challenger said.

"Could we not mention that creature in polite society, please," Marguerite snapped.

"True, true, my dear, begging your pardon." Challenger said quickly, "Now you two, tell us how you got here and I'll see if I can't figure out a way to get you home."

"And when exactly is home?" Veronica asked.

"Uhhhhh, 1938," the boy said, he was beginning to look nervous, as was the girl beside him.

"And what are your names?" Veronica asked, in the same firm tone.

The girl looked around at them, "You must not get agitated." She said earnestly.

"That my dear, isnot very comforting," Summerlee said, his eyes twinkling as he watched this young girl. There was something very familiar about her, about both of them.

It was on the tip of his mind to comment on it, but it just kept eluding him. The other's he was sure, hadn't noticed. No, they were too busy dealing with the facts, with what was going on. They hadn't picked up on the familiarity these two displayed. There was no hesitation when they'd approached the tree house, no wonder. They'd immediately known where the elevator was. They'd disembarked and the boy had instantly hung his rifle where the other did. There had been questions on what the beast that had chased them was, no questions at howthe tree house had come to be, no questions even, on the identity of their saviors.

The boy took a deep breath suddenly and spoke, "My name is William John Roxton and this is my sister Isabella Veronica Roxton."

Again a deep silence fell on all the occupents of the room, as they took in this information.

John swallowed hard as he studied the people in front him, before he could speak however, Summerlee let out a hoot.

"Of course!" he cried, getting up, "That's it… that's what I've been trying to figure out!" he walked to them, "You are the spitting image of your mother and father."

The girl nodded, "Yes, we've been told." She said hesitantly, glancing over at Marguerite, then John.

"Wha- I mean- Are you saying… that… I'm- you're my…" John stuttered as he stood, Summerlee backed away,to allow John to get his first good look athis children.

"You're our father." The boy confirmed.

John studied the boy, and found – as Summerlee had said – that the child was indeed his spitting image. Same dark hair, same brown eyes with a touch of green, same lips, nose, and cheekbones --- every where he looked on the boys face he saw traces of himself.

"William…" he said softly as he reached out and drew the boy into a firm hug. The boy accepted the hug, and even hugged back, but not with the enthusiasm which his father displayed.

After all he'd seen the man this morning.

"You can call Will." The boy said, when he pulled back, "William is only when I'm in trouble."

John nodded, smiling, his eyes full of wonder.

I have a son.

No, something in him screamed. You will have a son. The impact of the thought had his gaze sharpening as he looked at the young man.

"Do I know you're here?" he asked.

Will shook his head, "Nope… we have little miss it'll-only-take-a-minute to thank for that…" he said, motioning with his head towards the younger girl at his side.

John's gaze dropped to the girl.

He nearly gasped.

She was looking up at him, waiting for her turn to be studied and accepted.

Looking up at him with eyes of silver mixed with swirls of blue and green. He'd only seen eyes like that once before…

His gaze shot to Marguerite, where he found her looking a tad a paler than before and no longer holding a tea cup.

"Who is your mother?" he asked of the girl, when he looked at her again.

Her expression went from patient to shocked in an instant. Obviously she couldn't fathom how he couldn't know.

And he did.

Somewhere inside.

But he needed to hear it.

She grinned suddenly, and any doubt he'd had vanished, "Why Lady Marguerite Roxton, of course. Who else?"