Title: More or Less: A Series of Erratic Ideas
Pairing: Skinner/Jekyll eventually, or never maybe… ANGST!
A/N: This is basically my half-assed lazy attempt at getting my 100 Themes Challenge list going. Other than that, it's because I'm desperate for some J/S slash! Hope you like it. If you don't, I'll eat a baby. Alive…protect the children.

1. Introduction

He steps down from the balcony, cool and calm as always, stopping just before our chests meet. I've seen this before; I've seen him with those eyes like that before, but never has he been staring at me with them, all fire and ice and fear and curiosity swirling in black pupils.

He steps back just enough not to hear the breath that rushes into my lungs to keep me standing. The tension is too much. I can feel my blood, pulsing up from my arms into my neck and down my shoulders again. I am positive he can hear it pushing through my veins.

His lips are wet, just barely. He is in need of a shave soon says the reddish tint dabbed along his jaw. Why are my hands shaking? Up close I realized how defined his cheekbones are, as high as a woman's, but with a sharp definition unlike I've ever seen, carved under his eyes. He blinks, twice. A pink tongue darts out exposed before he works his lips to form a sentence, but which lose confidence and seal again. I cannot move. In the back of my mind, I know, ironically, I would be far more comfortable watching those lips if I were naked.

Finally, after what feels like hours, seconds, he leans back fidgeting with his jacket cuff as he is prone to and gives a half smile, altogether confused.

"Mr. Skinner?" a rich baritone that makes my head light and my shoes lead. His eyes are on me again.

"Hnm?" the weak reply that is all I can muster.

"The door?"

I finger behind me, feeling the cold steel that leads back into the belly of the Nautilus, back to the long halls, back to his room full of vials and parchment and suffering.

"Oh, right, s'rry mate." I turn and push open the hull door, which strains and groans my curses for me. He goes through, smiling and nodding in thanks, or even discomfort, I don't know. I am always watching him leave.