100 Prompts - "Keen Man"
Crossover: Tin Man miniseries (2007) and TV series Keen Eddie (2003)
Characters: Carol/Rudy; Cain/Glitch; Eddie/Monty
Notes: Written for a 100-prompts drabble challenge, probably 2008 or 2009. The prompts are listed at the top of each part. Every word was used either bluntly or metaphorically. The drabbles can run together, i.e. 300 words and three prompts used in that section of 300 words. Five chapters of twenty prompts per chapter. My formatting is subpar, I admit, but there isn't really a great way to go about, or perhaps I'm not inventive enough at the moment to think of one! I had a good time writing this back in the day. The first and only crossover I've ever finished, to my recollection.
Length: 10,300 words.

*X*

(1 cavort; 2 cadence)

Fiona was cool. At least, she owned some essence of coolness. Even if all she did was hang around Nigel—decidedly NOT COOL Nigel—who watched the stock ticker while wearing pink shirts and striped trousers, but by this point in time Eddie's desperation poised him in front of Fiona.

She was shovelling cereal into her mouth, once again cavorting about in loungewear, and new furry-tipped slippers. 'What?' came the demand accompanied by a sour expression.

'I was just wondering,' his chance to lessen the cadence of sarcasm just resulted in sarcasm within sarcasm, 'you ever hear of a club in London called the Outer Zone?'

'No.'

The flat response left no space for expostulation, as she bent over the cereal bowl, chewed, and stormed off to her room. Behind him, in the sitting room, Eddie heard Pippin leap from the sofa in protest.

'I can't believe you're still on this,' cried Monty, joining Eddie at the door. 'Peter Hawskins, Eddie, really? He's gone. He's been gone months, and you're still on this—about the Outer Zone and all that rubbish. You need to get yourself a better hobby, mate. And I have just the idea.'

'I am not listening.'

*X*

(3 Unexpected)

A little before eight Monday morning, Eddie followed Pippin into the office. The routine was comfortably simplistic. The room was a draughty place stuck in some middle section of the fourth floor. But it was Pippin's office. They had done significant work there over the last year.

Only, Pippin did not crawl a toe across the threshold but stopped, Eddie with him. The unexpected reason was clear.

In front of Pippin's desk was… another desk.

The superintendent strolled in. 'Ah, I see it arrived. Good. Thought you might like a desk, Eddie.'

Eddie's mouth clamped shut.

'That's great,' Pippin cheered.

*X*

(4 Foreshadow)

'Doesn't Eddie look dreadful?' asked Rudy of the superintendent's secretary, Carol Ross. Rudy peered through the glass and blinds once more. 'It's Hawskins, wearing him out. He's a bit obsessed.'

'Afraid I don't understand you, Mr Alexander.' She flashed a smile, foreshadowing wit.

'Don't know what I mean…' He startled by tossing something at her. She caught it, a little off-guard, and flipped it over in her hands. A small twig with two green leaves and two pink, fruit-bearing flowers. She held her breath, looking at him with frightened eyes. 'Of course you don't know what I mean, Miss Ross.'

*X*

(5 Plead)

As Eddie and Inspector Pippin emerged from Superintendent Johnson's office, Rudy pleaded. It roused Eddie's insensitive side, and Pippin's sense of intrigue.

'I know you're not happy to see me,' Rudy began. 'But just hear me out. Please? It's important.'

Eddie tossed Miss Ross an empty glance, but she was occupied, the tip of a pen tucked into the corner of her mouth. 'You've got twenty seconds, Rudy.'

'Twenty seconds, fine, but it'll take twenty minutes to get there. There's something over at the Sticky Wicket you need to see.'

For some reason, Eddie felt Miss Moneypenny glaring at him.

*X*

(6 Mince)

Johnny Red would not cross over to his brother-in-law's side of the pub, the American side. The feud hadn't receded much, and it amused Eddie and Pippin more than annoyed. That day, Bill had a story about the cut across his nose, but ended it as he gestured to the pub's back wall.

Excitement minced Eddie's stomach. Above the map key was a pretty scroll of words: "The Outer Zone".

Between Rudy's fingers was a matchbook. 'Central City,' he said, 'the big town in the middle.'

Eddie took the matchbook, though all he could do was stare.

*X*

(7 Twilight, 8 Escape)

Evening had fallen, the glare of an overcast twilight something silvery in London that New York had lacked. Eddie rubbed his chin, sight fixed on the lay of life outside the windows. Pippin had gone for a while, had since returned, and fixed himself in the next chair over.

'You've been here hours, mate. Staring into space isn't healthy. And Bill says you haven't eaten.'

'Thirteen states.'

'What?'

'It has thirteen states. Or twelve, as Rudy says one of them used to be an independent monarchy.'

'Right,' Pippin agreed calmly. 'You know, Eddie, Rudy doesn't know how to get there, so we don't know how to get there. Hawskins, if he did escape into the thirteen—twelve—states, we still can't find him.'

'Thirteen,' Eddie repeated. He watched Londoners go, finally compelled to come back to the present. 'And not a single one of those people out there knows except us.'

'And Rudy.' Pippin gave a slight roll of his head. 'Possibly Bill and Johnny. Just giving you some perspective, Eddie. It's good for you. So is a sandwich.'

Bill dropped a plate with cheese between rye. He slapped Eddie at the shoulder. Pippin shrugged.

Families looked after each other.

*X*

(9 Abscond)

Considering that it took him four hours to absorb the existence of another universe, Eddie was in damn fine spirits. Even Fiona, back at the house, failed to sour him. She was acidic like lemon.

'Oh, it's you,' she snorted. 'I was hoping you'd absconded somewhere, far, far from England.'

He was still sorry her move to New York fell through. Whatever the reasons, she would've liked New York. London bored her.

She ogled. 'What?'

'I think we need tea,' he said, going into the kitchen, Pete at his heels, Duchess waiting on the table.

Families looked after each other.

*X*

(10 Covet)

Superintendent Nathanial Johnson expected his assistant to work long hours. Carol Ross was a coveted employee; he had had "offers" for her to work elsewhere. He admired her loyalty. He liked walking in and seeing her behind the desk, already occupied, ready to be efficient.

But he'd never asked for her confidence or opinion.

He tried altering this.

'Carol?'

'Sir?'

'Is this Hawskins nonsense affecting Detective Arlette poorly? I'd appreciate your insight. You probably see him more than I.'

She blinked, thoughts steady. 'He'll be happier when he's reached a conclusion about it, sir.'

'That's what I thought you'd say.'

*X*

(11 sunrise)

Eddie was up before sunrise, unsurprised to see Pippin asleep on the sofa, with both cat and dog around him. Pippin rarely went home anymore, since Audry, his housemate, was gone all the time, both on business and pleasure, more the latter.

He fixed coffee, porridge, and sliced an orange. By then, the smell had wafted into parlour and bedroom, unearthing groggy residents.

The way Fiona murmured good morning, the way Pippin plunked his forehead to the table, Eddie thought something misplaced.

'Well, what… Why the long faces?'

'You're up at seven, Eddie. It's Saturday,' Fiona answered.

He'd forgotten that.

*X*

(12 Newcastle)

After a morning of lounging about, waiting for football to come on, Pippin, Pete on his lap and Duchess behind, managed to scoot over as Fiona sat down.

They nudged each other with kindly elbows.

'I'm looking after Eddie, promise,' Monty declared.

'Yeah. Good.'

'He'll feel better eventually.'

'He's making you miserable.'

'H'mm.'

'Who's playing?' Fiona settled in, Pete sprawled between her lap and Monty's.

'Newcastle and Chelsea. Boring.'

The volume increased to drown out the sound of Eddie in the shower. Monty puckered his lips.

'If he's not out in ten minutes, I'll make sure he hasn't fallen unconscious.'

*X*

(13 Collusion)

During the years his wife and he had spent together, Rudy regretted never telling her about the O.Z. Though he'd painted the occasional story, only failed to indicate realness.

The regret was akin to the day Peter Hawskins had marched into Eddie Arlette's life. Rudy cared for Eddie a bit, looked after him a bit.

If Carol Ross wouldn't help, there had to be another. London teemed with rejects from the Other Side.

He'd rather it be Carol.

What he didn't want was to incorporate the help of his cousin.

Anthony was a pain in the ass about such things.

*X*

(14 Titanic)

A while ago, Eddie realised that both hands were required to count up the months since he'd met Peter Hawskins, had inherited the Bentley from Rosemary Hawskins, had met Khan, The Pig, and Sunglasses. Eight months and fifteen days since Peter disappeared.

But as soon as Peter and he shared final words, Eddie knew they'd never meet again.

Peter hadn't turned up dead. He hadn't contacted The Pig. He wasn't in jail. He wasn't in an asylum.

For Peter Hawskins, these were titanic achievements.

Eight months and fifteen days later, Eddie just wanted to know if Peter had gone home.

*X*

(15 Dishevelled)

Despite bathing and rest, Eddie's dishevelled appearance continued. At the edge of Eddie's socked feet, Pippin watched his partner float in a dazed state. He brushed his toe against Eddie's.

'You alive, mate?'

'Just thinking.'

'And what else is new…' To provide a more inviting ambience, Pippin knelt, chin at rest on chair's arm. 'Who won the football match?'

'Chelsea,' Eddie said blindly.

'Newcastle, surprisingly.'

'Oh, nice. Hey, Pippin, can I ask you something?'

'Absolutely.'

'Do I still have to give you reasons why it matters?'

Sympathetically, Monty patted Eddie's wrist, saying no.

A captivated Fiona spied from the kitchen.

*X*

(16 Sickness)

Nathanial gathered no satisfaction from this meeting. He thought relating that aloud was too sentimental, and perhaps he'd receive an animated response if his voice was harsh. It was unusual, in those days, to see Arlette in front of his desk without the sentinel Pippin.

'Your sabbatical has been filed. All you have to do is see Carol to sign the appropriate papers.'

The sickness in Eddie descried necessary attachments to reality trickling away. 'Listen, Nathanial, you can't just—'

'I certainly can. Please send in Pippin, will you, on your way out?' His chair rotated around, ending Eddie's dispute.

*X*

(17 Scent)

With Pippin meeting Nathanial, Eddie aimed for distraction. Carol had the dark hair of her modest pageboy curled that day. Her black suit, the front cut low, offered a stark backdrop to mauve flowers in a glass vase.

'Nice posies. Someone send you those?'

'Mr Alexander.'

'Rudy? Ha, Ms Moneypenny, I didn't know you two had a thing going on.'

She glared, then continued typing. His sabbatical had to be placed in the system.

'They smell good,' he said, catching a sweet scent. 'Like strawberries, apples, maybe roses. What are they?'

'They're Bulgar Novi blossoms.'

'Never heard—'

'You will.'

*X*

(18 Respect)

'Whoa, come again?' Pippin's fingers fluttered at his forehead. 'You want to—what?'

'If Eddie is on sabbatical,' started Nathanial, respect from Pippin guaranteed, 'then I want you to be, as well.'

'No, no, no,' Pippin repeated quickly. 'I'm not the basketcase here, Superintendent. That'd be Eddie, remember? At least he slept last night.'

Nathanial's brows lofted. Pippin defended himself.

'His housemate and I have been keeping an eye on him. Not to mention— This is ridiculous.'

His supervisor's will deflated the argumentative streak.

'Ridiculous, but I'll do it.' Monty brought out a pen. 'What do I have to sign?'

*X*

(19 Conceit)

'It's not getting bigger, Eddie.' Bill left a pint of lager on the table. Eddie couldn't take his eyes off the map.

'Anyone ever come in and ask about it?' Pippin slurped a foamy head. He preferred sweeter drinks, but sometimes nothing satisfied as well as an English cider.

'Only stupid questions,' Bill replied. 'People want to know what the hell it is. I tell them to shut up and drink their beer.'

'Charming,' Pippin retorted, familiar with the conceited banter of American males. He thought this looking into Eddie's sandy hair.

'A storm is coming,' a departing Bill mumbled.

*X*

(20 Trolley)

Not having to avoid trolleys was pleasant in a supermarket at 3 A.M. Eddie picked up random fruit. In the end, he couldn't decide what those flowers smelled like.

'They smell like every fruit.' He did a double-take at the goodies in Monty's arms.

'You want fruit, I want biscuits and Jaffa Cakes. Deal with it,' Pippin said grumpily. 'Are we going to stay up all night watching porn?'

'Maybe we'll watch The Wizard of Oz.'

'There's a porno called The Wizard Does Oz, should your mind change. Bananas go well with porn.' Monty added a bunch to Eddie's fruit.