Dreams And Promises

by Terri Sutro

Fandom: Alias Smith And Jones

Rating: G

Pairing: None

Summary: None

Melanie Beaucroft watched him play poker. At first glance, he might have been one of the many riverboat gamblers who sought fortune at the tables. A longer glance, however, told Melanie this was not an ordinary man. There was a energy that lay just beneath the surface. Something coiled waiting to spring. The dark eyes full of laughter and what else - secrets. Yes, this man could be dangerous. Yet here he was in the main salon of the Mississippi Queen involved in a cordial game of chance. He was winning a great deal of money from some of the wealthiest men in the South.

John Hutchins was one of those men. He excused himself from playing and walked up to Melanie.

"Someone caught your eye, Miss Melanie?" His voice dripped well-bred gentility. Those less intelligent than Melanie usually failed to see how skilled he was at hiding his arrogance and stupidity.

"Why, whatever do you mean, Mr. Hutchins?"

"That stranger, Mr. Smith. He seems to have drawn your interest."

"Sir, I don't know what you mean. I have not been properly introduced to Mr. Smith, and I don't appreciate your insinuation."

"Please accept my apologies, I must be mistaken. Perhaps I can provide a more tangible means of apologizing. Have dinner with me tonight." Hutchins moved a bit closer to Melanie.

"I’m afraid I have other plans, this evening."

"Melanie, you can't avoid the inevitable forever. You've run out of time and money. Marry me. I will restore Plumwood to what it was. You'll have everything you want, servants, clothes, parties. Just like it used to be." Hutchins, moved even closer and touched the bare skin of her shoulder.

"You take too many liberties, sir. I do not love you. Marrying you for clothes and parties - do you think that I have sunk so low." She moved out of his reach. If only slapping him would not cause a scene, she thought.

~~~~~~

"Proud and poor is very unattractive Melanie. Not many men would even be interested in a woman with those qualities. One day you will understand what I'm offering you and accept my proposition. You'd better hurry. I will not wait forever."

Melanie sighed. Perhaps, it was worth causing a scene. "I suppose I'll just have to risk that, Mr. Hutchins. Please excuse me."

Why did men always believe they had ownership rights over her. Surely, there must be some intelligent man who would regard her as an equal. Perhaps if she delayed long enough John Hutchins would get tired of waiting and find some other woman he could deign to marry. Feeling annoyed, Melanie walked out of the main salon and on to the deck.

"Damn. Sorry" She apologized to the sky. "God, I know it's not a very Christian thing to be asking but do you suppose you could manage to have that man fall overboard."

"You're right. That's not a very Christian thing to be asking. And why would such a beautiful woman be contemplating murder on such a peaceful night".

The voice was deep, hypnotic. It matched the eyes she found herself looking into when she turned. Those eyes.

"Sir, it is not gentlemanly to sneak up on a lady and eavesdrop on her conversation. Even if she is just thinking out loud." Melanie drew herself up to her full height of five feet four inches. "It is even less gentlemanly to speak to a lady without a proper introduction." She hoped she had put just enough scorn in her to properly chastise him.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I came out on deck to get some air, and overhearing your desire to see someone fall overboard, I admit curiosity got the better of me. My name is Joshua Smith. Is that proper enough?" His eyes were dancing with laughter and his smile lit up his face.

"Well, I suppose it will have to do." He did not seem properly anguished.

He was still smiling at her. "Am I permitted to know your name, or will I have to perform some act of great bravery before being forgiven? Perhaps I can throw someone overboard for you?"

"Oh, would you. That would be wonderful, Mr. Smith. And it's Melanie, Melanie Beaucroft." She said those words looking straight at him with a look that said she might just be serious.

He stared at her. Perhaps he had one brandy too many. Was it possible that this beautiful woman was asking him to kill someone. He kept staring. She was society. He knew that. From the golden hair and deep blue eyes, to the daringly cut burgundy velvet gown - this was a woman used to making outrageous requests and having men jump to complete them for her.

She had not moved during his appraisal of her. Well, a woman like this was probably more than used to men staring at her.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Ma'am. Uh, Miss Beaucroft, was it? I'm not quite sure I heard you." Hannibal Heyes was seldom at a loss for words. Yet, he found himself fumbling for a response.

"I said it would be wonderful if you would throw a certain horrid person overboard for me."

Watching the frown crease his forehead, she put on her most earnest expression. "Oh dear Mr. Smith. Were you toying with me. Men can be so cruel." She brought a lace handkerchief to her face and turned away from him.

"Don't cry, Miss Melanie. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Please, don't cry," Hannibal pleaded, watching her shoulders shake and hearing her sobs.

Finally, she turned to him, face still hidden.

"My goodness, Mr. Smith. You should see your face. You look positively mortified." She was even more beautiful when she smiled. She was not only smiling at him, she was laughing.

"Don't be angry, Mr. Smith. You did need to be paid back for eavesdropping on me. Now we're even." She offered her hand to him.

Relaxing, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips, he murmured, "I think you might be just a bit ahead of me. I take it you don't really want me to murder anyone this evening."

"Oh, dear, no. But I do appreciate your offering."

The jest over, an awkward moment of silence was happily resolved when a waiter appeared with champagne.

They carried their glasses as they walked along the deck.

"What brought you to New Orleans, Mr. Smith."

"My partner and I were hired to meet a man who breeds and sells thoroughbreds. We were helping a friend buy some additional animals."

"And now you and your partner are returning to Louisville?"

"I am, ma'am. My partease excuse me."

Why did men always believe they had ownership rights over her. Surely, there must be some intelligent man who would regard her as an equal. Perhaps if she delayed long enough John Hutchins would get tired of waiting and find some other woman he could deign to marry. Feeling annoyed, Melanie walked out of the main salon and on to the deck.

"Damn. Sorry" She apologized to the sky. "God, I know it's not a very Christian thing to be asking but do you suppose you could manage to have that man fall overboard."

"You're right. That's not a very Christian thing to be asking. And why would such a beautiful woman be contemplating murder on such a peaceful night".

The voice was deep, hypnotic. It matched the eyes she found herself looking into when she turned. Those eyes.

"Sir, it is not gentlemanly to sneak up on a lady and eavesdrop on her conversation. Even if she is just thinking out loud." Melanie drew herself up to her full height of five feet four inches. "It is even less gentlemanly to speak to a lady without a proper introduction." She hoped she had put just enough scorn in her to properly chastise him.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I came out on deck to get some air, and overhearing your desire to see someone fall overboard, I admit curiosity got the better of me. My name is Joshua Smith. Is that proper enough?" His eyes were dancing with laughter and his smile lit up his face.

"Well, I suppose it will have to do." He did not seem properly anguished.

He was still smiling at her. "Am I permitted to know your name, or will I have to perform some act of great bravery before being forgiven? Perhaps I can throw someone overboard for you?"

"Oh, would you. That would be wonderful, Mr. Smith. And it's Melanie, Melanie Beaucroft." She said those words looking straight at him with a look that said she might just be serious.

He stared at her. Perhaps he had one brandy too many. Was it possible that this beautiful woman was asking him to kill someone. He kept staring. She was society. He knew that. From the golden hair and deep blue eyes, to the daringly cut burgundy velvet gown - this was a woman used to making outrageous requests and having men jump to complete them for her.

She had not moved during his appraisal of her. Well, a woman like this was probably more than used to men staring at her.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Ma'am. Uh, Miss Beaucroft, was it? I'm not quite sure I heard you." Hannibal Heyes was seldom at a loss for words. Yet, he found himself fumbling for a response.

"I said it would be wonderful if you would throw a certain horrid person overboard for me."

Watching the frown crease his forehead, she put on her most earnest expression. "Oh dear Mr. Smith. Were you toying with me. Men can be so cruel." She brought a lace handkerchief to her face and turned away from him.

"Don't cry, Miss Melanie. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Please, don't cry," Hannibal pleaded, watching her shoulders shake and hearing her sobs.

Finally, she turned to him, face still hidden.

"My goodness, Mr. Smith. You should see your face. You look positively mortified." She was even more beautiful when she smiled. She was not only smiling at him, she was laughing.

"Don't be angry, Mr. Smith. You did need to be paid back for eavesdropping on me. Now we're even." She offered her hand to him.

Relaxing, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips, he murmured, "I think you might be just a bit ahead of me. I take it you don't really want me to murder anyone this evening."

"Oh, dear, no. But I do appreciate your offering."

The jest over, an awkward moment of silence was happily resolved when a waiter appeared with champagne.

They carried their glasses as they walked along the deck.

"What brought you to New Orleans, Mr. Smith."

"My partner and I were hired to meet a man who breeds and sells thoroughbreds. We were helping a friend buy some additional animals."

"And now you and your partner are returning to Louisville?"

"I am, ma'am. My partner stayed behind. Seems he met a friend he hadn't seen in a while. She promised to show him the real New Orleans. What about you. Are you traveling alone."

"Yes, I'm alone. I'm going home - to Louisville."

Not knowing why, she found herself telling this stranger about her home, Plumwood. About the need to sell it now after it had been in her family for generations. About her father's death. About a dream of being able to keep this last memory of her family, of restoring it, of turning it into a place where children not wanted by anyone else, could come and find shelter and safety, and perhaps happiness.

She stopped when the chimes rang out.

"Midnight!! Mr. Smith, I've been babbling for hours. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I enjoyed listening to your voice. I would like to help you with your dream, if you'll let me." He told her bits of his life - finding his family and that of his cousin, dead. Becoming one of those children not wanted by anyone. Life on the road - seeking, what. He did not know.

"I've won a great deal of money. Perhaps it can help fix your home."

"You're very kind. But, no. Plumwood is sold." She touched his arm. I will have the money to build a new home, less grand perhaps, but with more purpose."

"Joshua, I'm sorry, there was no one to shelter you when you needed it. A child should not be alone."

"Oh I wasn't alone, Melanie. I had my cousin. We learned to shelter each other."

~~~~~~

"Well, then. Perhaps you had a lucky star following you. I think it was lucky that we both needed air at same moment this evening. Now, however, I believe I shall retire. Tomorrow we'll be in Louisville. Shall I see you while you are there?"

"I doubt it. That partner I was talking about - well he was gonna finish up seeing New Orleans and take the land route here. I expect he'll be waiting for me. Then we're headed back home."

"And home would be where?"

"West of this river."

"I don't believe that we're quite through yet, Joshua. I think perhaps I will see you again. Perhaps not here and now, but…

In a heartbeat, Hannibal had put his arms around her and drawn her to him. The kiss was passionate and neither party seemed to want it to end.

Finally, Hannibal drew back, still holding her. "I should not have met you now. I have no future to offer you Melanie. I don't even have a present. What I do have is a past." There, it was out. He started to tell her who he was. He needed her to understand. Choices - right now he had no choice but to leave.

She kissed him before he could speak. "No, Joshua. This is not the night for secrets to be shared. This is the night for dreams, and for us. Look, a shooting star - Joshua, it is a magic evening."

He drew her close again, covering her shoulders and neck with kisses. "No Melanie, you're the magic. You are the star for which the evenings wait."

<CENTER?-30-

ner stayed behind. Seems he met a friend he hadn't seen in a while. She promised to show him the real New Orleans. What about you. Are you traveling alone."

"Yes, I'm alone. I'm going home - to Louisville."

Not knowing why, she found herself telling this stranger about her home, Plumwood. About the need to sell it now after it had been in her family for generations. About her father's death. About a dream of being able to keep this last memory of her family, of restoring it, of turning it into a place where children not wanted by anyone else, could come and find shelter and safety, and perhaps happiness.

She stopped when the chimes rang out.

"Midnight!! Mr. Smith, I've been babbling for hours. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I enjoyed listening to your voice. I would like to help you with your dream, if you'll let me." He told her bits of his life - finding his family and that of his cousin, dead. Becoming one of those children not wanted by anyone. Life on the road - seeking, what. He did not know.

"I've won a great deal of money. Perhaps it can help fix your home."

"You're very kind. But, no. Plumwood is sold." She touched his arm. I will have the money to build a new home, less grand perhaps, but with more purpose."

"Joshua, I'm sorry, there was no one to shelter you when you needed it. A child should not be alone."

"Oh I wasn't alone, Melanie. I had my cousin. We learned to shelter each other."

~~~~~~

"Well, then. Perhaps you had a lucky star following you. I think it was lucky that we both needed air at same moment this evening. Now, however, I believe I shall retire. Tomorrow we'll be in Louisville. Shall I see you while you are there?"

"I doubt it. That partner I was talking about - well he was gonna finish up seeing New Orleans and take the land route here. I expect he'll be waiting for me. Then we're headed back home."

"And home would be where?"

"West of this river."

"I don't believe that we're quite through yet, Joshua. I think perhaps I will see you again. Perhaps not here and now, but…

In a heartbeat, Hannibal had put his arms around her and drawn her to him. The kiss was passionate and neither party seemed to want it to end.

Finally, Hannibal drew back, still holding her. "I should not have met you now. I have no future to offer you Melanie. I don't even have a present. What I do have is a past." There, it was out. He started to tell her who he was. He needed her to understand. Choices - right now he had no choice but to leave.

She kissed him before he could speak. "No, Joshua. This is not the night for secrets to be shared. This is the night for dreams, and for us. Look, a shooting star - Joshua, it is a magic evening."

He drew her close again, covering her shoulders and neck with kisses. "No Melanie, you're the magic. You are the star for which the evenings wait."

-30-