It wasn't a particularly dreary day. Yes, cloudy of course, any day in London was cloudy, but without rain or overall humidity. The procession began at nine o clock for a service at twelve. Some had argued that the Saint Christopher Church would be appropriate, seeing as how Mr. Sharp had attended services there with The Lady Boffin and her family every Christmas, but in the end it ruled that he would have preferred an outdoor funeral, in the open air, where attendants might feel a gentle breeze. Dr. Barlow had insisted upon a costlier casket, but eventually decided that a simple black was more suited. Dylan Sharp had detested fancy things, after all. The crowd was small, only a few associates of the Zoological Society of London coupled with some army men representing the Air Service, and of course the Barlow family were in attendance. It was rumored that Dylan's own mother had refused to make the trip to London, and only his cousin Jaspart had arrived to pay his respects.

As the coaches came to a stop, solemn men and women made their way up the hill to the place of burial, trying not to eye the casket of a man, a boy really, too young to die. There were seats placed on the grass surrounding the fresh grave, and as they filled, a minister made his way up to the small wooden pedestal that had been set up for the service.

Amid the other guests clad in black, a boy of about twenty stared blankly at the black box that held his friend. There were no tears on Aleksander Hohenburg's face. In fact, he seemed to be concentrating on not showing any emotion at all. Women would trade glances with each other behind their veils, the poor boy had lost a friend. A good friend. They couldn't know the pain he felt, after all he had been through, it must have been akin to a nightmare to lose not only his parents, but his closest friend all in the span of five years. Some assumed the boy might be bitter. Besides Jaspart and Dr. Barlow's family, he was the only one here who had known the deceased, truly known him for the person he was. All these officials and their wives were here out of respect for the Lady Boffin, not because they had loved the boy who was returning to the earth.

Alek almost forgot to blink as they lowered the casket into the earth. Moisture gleamed in his eyes, unrelated to the way he felt, but because he was so fixated on that box disappearing under the fresh dirt. As the final words were spoken, he was one of the few who did not rise to make conversation with the rest of the crowd.

Wham!

Rubbing the back of his head, Alek glared at the girl who had knocked him across the head.

"You ought to show more respect," he said in a low voice, then rubbed the back of his neck, "Or at least pretend you're grieving."

"Oh like you?" Deryn put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, her long hair pooling on her left shoulder, "You looked more like you have a stomachache"

Alek fought to conceal a smile. It wouldn't do to be caught grinning at his best friend's funeral.

"Perhaps my acting still needs some work," he sighed, "It is difficult to contend with you, Ms. Sharp."

Deryn hefted her parasol over her shoulder like a rifle. Unlike the other women, she didn't wear a veil. It seemed to Alek that this was an unwise decision on her part, any one of the military men could recognize her face, or even members of the Society, but he supposed that was why any real friends of Deryn's hadn't bothered to show up.

"Seems an awful lot of bleather over an empty box," Deryn sighed, "If only I had known I was so popular with high ranking officials in life, I might've asked a few more favors."

After laughing at her joke, Deryn offered a hand to Alek, a soft smile on her face.

"Shall we head down to the nearest pub to drown our sorrows?" she asked, a wicked smile on her face.

Alek rolled his eyes.

"It is hardly appropriate for a young lady to be without chaperone in a pub, Ms. Sharp," He said, smiling despite himself.

"Then it's a good thing I'm no lady," Deryn chuckled. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she sat back in her seat, seeming to cower behind Alek, "And there's Dr. Barlow looking for us, come on, lets make a run for it!"

Sure enough, the Lady Boffin was making her way through the seats, scanning the crowds for her two henchmen.

"You can't hide from her forever," Alek said flatly, as he rose from his seat and took Deryn's arm.

"I'm not going to hide from her forever," Deryn grumbled, "I just don't want her to make me wear the bloody hat."

The girl practically dragged him down the hill, making a mess of both the hem of her black skirt and Alek's polished shoes. It was not to be however, as Bovril chose that moment to make a particularly loud chirp, alerting the other loris to his whereabouts.

"Ah, Ms. Sharp, there you are," Dr. Barlow made her way effortlessly down the hill at a slow pace, knowing full well neither of them would bolt in her presence. "It appears you are underdressed!"

Deryn scowled as the Lady Boffin settled the black bowler upon her head, tilting it just so.

"You seem to have forgotten it in the coach," she said cheerfully, "You really must learn to be more organized, Ms. Sharp."

"Forgive me mam," Deryn sighed as she tried to re-adjust it to sit more comfortably, "I'm a bit out of sorts, I have recently died after all."

"A funeral is no place for impertinence, Ms. Sharp," Dr. Barlow chided, "I suggest you take that attitude somewhere were you will not insult those who have come to grieve over this tragic loss." She turned her back to the two of them, "You are both dismissed."

Sighing with relief, the pair made their way into town. They knew the place well, their apartments were just down the road, and the local pub had been one of Dylan's favorites. Ollie waved to Alek as they entered.

"What, no place at the bar?" he asked as they sat at a quiet table towards the back, "Come on lad, sitting in the back will do you no good."

Ollie was a kind man, but Deryn couldn't help but snicker anyway.

"I am fine here, thank you," Alek said stiffly, squeezing Deryn's hand under the table, "Just something to eat, please,"

With one pitying look at the pair, Ollie disappeared into the kitchens. He knew what they always ordered, even if he didn't recognize the proper Boffin lass that sat next to his old friend. As he came out with a tray holding two bowls of soup and a loaf of bread, he actually pulled up a chair to sit next to Alek before placing his meal before him.

"Dylan was a good lad," He said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "The Lord works in mysterious ways,"

Shooting a glance towards Deryn Alek couldn't help but sigh.

"He does indeed," he said, then made proper introductions, "I don't believe you have met my fiancé, Ms. Deryn Sharp?"

Ollie's eyes widened.

"Another Sharp?" he asked, looking her over, "You certainly look like the lad. I'm Oliver Pinch"

Deryn grinned.

"Aye, I'm told that," she extended her hand, "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pinch."

Deryn knew full well that he would immediately respond with "Bah, call me Ollie," but she supposed such things were better for the deception.

"So you're his sister?" he asked.

"No, his cousin," Deryn replied, taking a first sip of her favorite soup.

"I'm sorry lass," he said, "Were the two of you close?"

This time Deryn almost choked on the spoonful. She felt a bit guilty for laughing. Ollie had been her friend, and here she was alive and well without telling him, but it was a bit mad that she had to pretend to be upset over the death of someone who had never really existed.

"You could say that," she finally said, then delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin.

Ollie gave her once last pitying glance, patted Alek on the shoulder, and went to go stand by the bar.

"You're acting like a child," Alek noted, not looking at her as he watched Ollie go.

"I suppose I am," Deryn sighed as she took another spoonful, pinching a morsel of bread and feeding it to Bovril. It chirped in happiness, and devoured the piece, climbing down from Deryn's shoulder to sit on the table.

"I'm…nervous." She admitted, stroking the beastie's back.

Alek cocked his head at her, raising his brows. "You?"

"Well that's just it," Deryn sighed, "Dylan wouldn't be nervous. He's been on all sorts of adventures, so many that I may have forgotten what its like to be just Deryn again. Its almost like, well, Doctor Barlow doesn't act like it was hard to make it as a woman but I know that's not true. I have her to help me, but…I don't have a…well, I cant just escape all the bleather and be Dylan again. There are things young Lady Boffins cant do, things that Dylan can. I'm just…stuck in skirts again, I suppose."

Alek decided that this wouldn't be a good opportunity to remind her that women wearing trousers were a growing fad.

Deryn sighed and sat back in her chair, assuming a very unladylike position. "Its not that I have a problem so much as I don't know what will happen."

"Why didn't you tell the Lady Boffin?" Alek asked, snaking his hand over hers.

"I might've, at some point. I don't remember her response, but it was probably something dismissive. She's been herself her whole life, no secrets, no lies, of course she wouldn't know how it feels to throw away a persona." Deryn leaned forward and looked at Alek, squeezing his fingers in hers. "Also, she's been…alluding to something."

Alek's eyes flitted about the room like they always did when Deryn was about to mention top-secret Boffin rumors. She chuckled at him.

"Could you be more suspicious?" she said, reaching forward to mess up his hair. "That's why the Lady Boffin keeps you out of the inner circle."

"I don't mind," Alek murmured, "I hear everything from you."

Still laughing, she allowed herself to relax in her chair. Deryn always had a way of bringing up important things while looking as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"Theres this project some of the higher ups are working on," Deryn said, "Not even I know much about it. Some kind of new airship, faster and more powerful than the Leviathan, and the funny thing is, so far as I know it has nothing to do with the service."

Alek widened his eyes.

"The Society is fabricating its own airship? That's madness! The military would never stand for it!" His whisper turned into a loud hiss that made Ollie look up from polishing a glass.

Deryn rolled her eyes and squeezed his fingers again.

"Hush, your princeliness," She said, almost soothingly, "Whatever it is, it's going to happen soon."

Alek exhaled slowly, looking to Deryn, forcing himself to smile. "I suppose so."

Both of their meals finished, and the rest of the day off, the young couple left the pub to go home. Deryn had some paperwork to do, and there was a book Alek hadn't the time to finish. A day to themselves was much needed, seeing how there was a much anticipated wedding, and a less anticipated promotion for the both of them in the future.

Did I trick you?

I have had this on my computer for a while, and finally have gotten around to fixing it up for publication.