A/N: Guess who's back?! Back again…

And it only took two years! Which have consisted of getting a new job and traveling, losing the job and coming back home, dating someone and breaking up with them, then social distancing and sinking into despair while trying to join the world in raising awareness of and rising up against racism.

So yeah! Thank you much to everyone and anyone reading. I am glad to be back and thinking about something that still sparks joy for me…

Chapter 23: The Show Must Go On

"Très jolie, ladies, très jolie! Hold that pose a little longer…a little looonger…and CUT!"

The Darling Mermaid Darlings groaned, slumping down onto the public pool steps. They began to help each other wriggle out of their glittery green tails, Vivian grunting with the effort; Lily complaining that their organs were being squeezed like stress balls. The girl named Chuck chuckled as she watched from the bleachers, with her hat worn low and a scarf wrapped around her face…

"Are you sure you can make this look like the Seine?"

Jimmy Neptune tipped up his bowler hat, glancing from the camera to her. "Well, Emily," he said, "I've only been in show business all my life. What do you think?"

The Alive Again Adventurer put her hands up and shrugged. It might have been better to stage their promotional video around the river, but its banks were teeming with tourists, even in winter. At least here they could film a few minutes of swimming, hypothermia-inducing though they may be…

As Lily and Vivian hurled themselves out of the pool, Chuck picked up a bundle of towels and hurried over to cover them up.

"Tell me you brought that Cognac," Lily demanded through chattering teeth.

"And my herbal tea?" Vivian asked, dancing for heat.

"It's all in the tote," she replied wryly.

Without another word they took off towards the bleachers, waving Jimmy away as he attempted to give them notes. Chuck sighed and stooped to pick up the mermaid tails, now as cold and limp as dead fish. This 'assistant' business was a little dull, mostly requiring her to carry drinks and snacks and hotel towels…

As she squeezed water from the fabric, something glinted out of the corner of her eye. She looked towards the changing rooms and nearly yelped in alarm at what she saw.

"Uh…" she uttered, dropping the tail abruptly. "I need to pee?!"

"It's a free country, kid…"

Chuck ran for the women's changing room, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the others were not looking, before she ducked into the men's room instead. With the pool all but shut down due to the weather, it was dry and quiet inside; seemingly empty, except for one stall shut tight…

"You know I saw you," she snapped.

After a tense pause, Charles Charles emerged, his shades gleaming in the setting sun.

"Dad, what are you doing?!"

"…I wanted to go for a swim."

"In what, a scuba suit?" He tilted his head as if seriously considering this. "Don't you dare."

"Well, I just wanted to see them," he said, exasperated. "Not let them see me. In fact that's the last thing I want right now. I didn't exactly age gracefully."

Charles Charles said it like a joke, but there was a dark undercurrent of sadness that dampened her anger. "You were dead for years, it's not fair to compare…"

She passed through the rows of lockers until she was standing in front of her father. "I know how hard it is to be so close and so far at the same time. Believe me; I did some pretty whacky stuff just to hear their voices."

At that he bowed his head; heaved a silent sigh. Chuck felt her eyes begin to sting with tears as she pulled him into a hug. "It's okay. Hey…" She pulled away to look at him. "How about you come to their first show? You can hide in the back, I'll bring you snacks. And I promise, before the Paris leg is through, I will tell them about you."

Charles Charles forced a smile, patted her cheek. "Sounds good, Button."

That was a lie and they both knew it. Nothing about this sounded good. But for now, it was all they could hope for...

XXX

"Here I am, baby! Oh-oh…"

Olive sang and danced her way into the kitchen that morning, earning a disconcerted look from Ned.

It had been two weeks since the Pie Maker handed her a new contract. She decided to take her time with it, wanting to give it the thought it deserved, before finally sitting down to sign. All the while he held his tongue, either to avoid pressuring her, or to avoid seeming overeager. Instead, he took to staring at her whenever he thought she was unaware, as if she might run away and join a nunnery again should he take his eyes off her…

Olive found this both endearing and saddening. Perhaps it was clearer to her than it was to him, but they had reached the 'ride or die' stage of their friendship. There was no turning back now…

"Signed, sealed, delivered; I'm your…manager."

She handed him the sheaf of paper and Ned flipped through it to find her swirly signature. "Oh thank god! Not that I believe in any particular one but…Olive, that's great."

"Mh-hm," she hummed.

"So you're done…weighing your options?"

The newly minted manager shrugged her shoulders. "Meh, the scales were pretty heavily tipped in your favor."

"Even with Eden Prairie on the table?"

Olive blinked hard, more surprised by him admitting it than anything else. "So you did read his note. Why so nosy?"

Ned made a face that was somewhere between grimace and grin. "Sorry. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't losing you too."

At that, it took everything Olive had to stop herself swooning. She wished he wouldn't say such things – not with that face and that voice. It made her come over all warm and gooey, just when she was starting to feel like she could be normal around him. But she had no idea how to convey any of this without making him even more self-conscious...

Thankfully, the Pie Hole doors swung open just then, sparing her from having to say anything. Ned and Olive turned to find that it was not a regular customer who had entered, but-

"Maurice! Ralston!"

The twins approached the counter, bundled up in their scarves and sweaters, but only Ralston returned her greeting with similar cheer. Maurice, on the other hand, looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Ned, Olive," he said.

"…hi, guys," the Pie Maker replied. "Is everything all right?"

"You tell us. Is everything all right?"

"We wouldn't know, Frère Pie Maker; you haven't talked to us since that night."

With dawning dismay, Olive realized that they were right. Team PI Hole had been so overwhelmed by Dwight, and the Poppy Temple People, and Treadwell, and Eddie (oh dear, Eddie) that they neglected to check in on the young men.

"I'm so sorry," said Ned sincerely. "I've been a pretty poor excuse for a big brother. It's just that between running this place, and working the case-"

"Yeah, about that," said Maurice.

"You told us he was a burglar," Ralston added.

"Some stranger you never met before."

"But we heard you call him Dwight."

"So that was obviously a lie."

With that, Ralston reached into the satchel at his side and pulled out a leather-bound photo album. He opened it on the counter, flipping through pages of pictures before he landed on one.

"I recognized him from somewhere," he explained. "Took me forever to remember…"

Maurice pointed to a faded photo of four people in uniform. Ned and Olive stared speechless at the image of Dwight, Eddie, Charles, and a redheaded nurse…

"Mom knew this Dwight guy. So did Dad. So do you. And now that we know…how about you tell us what's really going on?"

XXX

"Let me get this straight: you want to use yourself as bait?"

Emerson side-eyed Eddie skeptically, as the car slowed to a stop at the creaky shack where the Pie Maker had been held. They got out, scanned the area warily, though there were no signs of life for miles. Nothing but an expanse of dust, with mountains looming in the distance…

"Why not? Dwight is already looking for me – or my watch at least. I just need to point him in the right direction."

Eddie pushed open the door to the abandoned property and peered inside, hand on his revolver as he entered. Emerson followed, musing with some amusement that if he were anyone else he might worry the house was haunted. But nothing in his supernatural or criminal investigations led him to believe that anyone lingered here, living or dead…

They moved past what might have been a kitchen, a bedroom, a dining room…to the living room where Treadwell had been blown away.

Ned and Eddie seemed to have done a good job removing any evidence of that. Too good perhaps. There was a large patch of floorboard that looked cleaner than the rest, suggesting the shape of what once lay there...

"And when Dwight finds you?"

"Then you help me take him out."

Eddie flipped through the dossier he got off of Treadwell; made sure his own picture was still inside. Then he slipped it under the rotary phone. Picking up the handset, Eddie began to dial…

"And what the hell is so special about these watches?"

The graying man put a finger to his mouth. "A magician never reveals his secrets…"

A/N: To any of my older readers that remember Chapter 22, I finally fixed the formatting issues, which were driving me crazy :p also edited the dialogue a bit. So it would make me happy if you just…went back and looked at it. Not even to read! But to see how not messed up it looks now…

Sorry, what's that? I'm being anal retentive...? You don't actually care...? You're ready to move on with the rest of the story? Right, roger that!