(80 Castaway; 81 Splatter)

'You have some very interesting habits, Hawskins.' Eddie let the case file drop, sitting across from Peter at a dull, scratched table in a dull, poorly-lit room back at Central. He huffed sourly and scratched his temple. 'Want to tell me about Margot Sprig? Why you killed her?'

'Didn't kill her. You know that, Eddie.'

'Who's Margot Sprig?'

'A girl I once knew. I was fond of her… Loved her a bit.' He left an airy laugh, as though this was a dream forgotten. 'Thought I did. Love is silly. Love makes castaways and liars of us all. Or it makes us—makes us truthful and unafraid. It brings us mirrors.'

Eddie needed strength to get through this. Because he liked Peter. Felt sorry for him. He didn't want to believe Peter could kill someone.

He fanned a crime scene photo before Peter, who flinched away.

'Her blood was splattered eight feet in all directions. Who does this kind of thing, Peter? All right, think for a second that I believe you didn't do it. But I still think you know something. I know you. I know when you're scared.'

Peter blinked until the tears flowed out of his eyes.

*X*

(82 Corrupt)

'You all right, Arlette?' Cain observed Eddie close into the filing cabinet Margot Sprig's solved murder. He'd let Arlette do this. Everyone had one case that changed his life forever.

'Peter says interesting things.' Eddie knew it wasn't an answer, but it kept Cain from deep examination. 'Tell me something, Captain. When you went after the guy who did it, did he know he was corrupt? Peter says he was a mad genius.'

'He was fixing to kill again, if that's what you mean.'

Any moment, Cain expected Arlette to say he'd go home.

Eddie hadn't found those words yet.

*X*

(83 Humility)

'Well,' Peter rushed out a hand to hold it with Eddie's, a goofy expression of doltish humility. 'This is when time separates us.'

Eddie surveyed the expanse of Ambly, the castle of Montague situated so peaceably, the river blue as the empyrean. Flowering trees burst with fruit and colour in the orchard. Intrigued, Eddie mentioned Bulgar Novi.

'Yeah, that's them,' Peter wiped his nose, perpetually grinning. 'Have any of the fruit yet? I'll get you some, wherever you are, when it ripens up.'

'Thanks, Hawskins. I'll be going home soon.'

Peter's comedy dimmed, eyes squinting against the suns. 'You will.'

*X*

(84 Loop)

DG looped her arms around Eddie the moment they met. Instead of the fountain garden, they were in a cavernous white room, blushed with roses in towering vases, gilded frames of landscapes, a harpsichord and harp. From behind one of the wing-backed chairs, DG brought out a covered canvas.

'I painted you something for your London office.'

'If Superintendent Johnson is convinced that I'm not crazy.'

She touched his arm. 'Open it.'

He ripped off the paper to reveal impressionism. It was London, captured from books, she said. London, and a double-decker red bus, Monty and he emerging from it.

*X*

(85 Overwhelmed; 86 Squander)

In her harmonious spirit, DG gave a party in honour of her Other Side friends, to commemorate the friendship formed, and the sadness of their imminent departure. Along with the same cast of characters, new faces emerged, some friends that DG and Azkadellia had made in the years since the eclipse. But Eddie stayed close to those he knew, insecure, a little, about the adventure home, and finding comfort with glib Ambrose and the laconic Captain Cain. The highlight of the evening was Carol Ross parading through the doors in a splendid rose-coloured gown, escorted by a resplendent Rudy, who cleaned up impeccably.

'Detective,' Carol studied him closely, 'was your visit satisfying?'

'Well,' Eddie glanced at Cain and Ambrose, 'I'm not really sure yet. What's Nathanial been like since I've been gone? And, it's okay if you lie to me. I'd probably like a lie better, anyway.'

Ambrose snorted. 'Don't listen to him, Ms Ross. If his old boss doesn't appreciate him, Wyatt does.'

The captain failed to mind Ambrose speaking for him.

'I think he's been a tad overwhelmed,' said Carol, lie or truth unclear. 'He certainly doesn't appreciate squandering his intuition on those he puts his trust in.'

*X*

(87 Redemption [II])

Monty was folding up the crisp white shirt he'd worn to the party. 'Do you think you'll see Peter again before we take off?'

'Unlikely. He's comfortable here.'

'Who thought he'd find such happiness doing—doing—well, I don't know what he's doing.'

'He's the village bicycle mechanic, from the way Portia made it sound.'

'Redemption is at hand.' Monty dawdled, caught by Princess DG's painting. 'Wonder what made her think of this? Us, a red bus, walking into rain without umbrellas.'

'She said she dreamed it.' Eddie deduced resignation in Monty's sigh. 'So, back home tomorrow.'

'So it seems.'

*X*

(88 Elastic)

DG wasn't surprised that Wyatt came up behind her, and left a kiss in the back of her head. 'Hanging in there, kiddo?' He stared into the city lights beyond the castle walls, seeing what she did, though never as far.

'They'll be back.'

'You sound pretty convinced. Can't say I wouldn't mind. They're good detectives, and did most of the grunt work when hunting Hawskins.'

'Hawskins, and then the guy who actually committed the murder. But, yeah,' she nodded, vaguely content, 'they'll be back. The O.Z. is an elastic world, and it stretches you to the limit, and it always brings you home again.'

*X*

(89 Wanted)

Rudy had become a seasoned traveller between the worlds, and the delegate to escort Eddie and Monty. Though it was after-hours in Station Eleven, a few Tin Men loitered, but none loitered near the lifts. Sergeant Glasse stifled his farewells, muttering briefly before stepping aside. That left Ambrose, his affections flowing freely. He kissed both Monty's cheeks, and Eddie permitted him to do the same, Ambrose's charisma irresistible. Wyatt pressed Eddie's hand, readily bestowing gratitude and camaraderie.

The lift doors closed, and all too soon. Monty grunted, his forehead landing on Eddie's shoulder.

'I thought I wanted to go home.'

*X*

(90 Cake; 91 Apollo)

Superintendent Nathanial Johnson failed to hold his arms open wide upon Arlette's return, though nonetheless gave him a mighty shake of the hand and a smack at the shoulder. 'It's good to have you back, Eddie.'

After their first full day at work, Monty let his head fall to a table in the Sticky Wicket, leaving One Ball Bill to ogle at the back of his head. 'Cider, Pippin?' Monty waved a hand, indicating a yes. A second later, the brogue of Johnny Red sailed across the flag barrier, heralding their triumphant return.

Audry bought Pippin a cake, intending to have Eddie, Fiona, and Nigel over for dinner. The plans collapsed when Nigel couldn't attend, too much work, and Audry was called by a friend of hers experiencing traumatic domestic woes.

Eddie let Duchess lick frosting from the end of his fork. On the couch, Monty was again snoring, BBC News directing them on all the hopeless happenings going on in the world. He flicked the remote: the telly went blank. Collapsing at Monty's feet, Eddie wondered if this was the sort of home they had had in mind.

'No place like shoes…' murmured Pippin, half-asleep. 'Emerald Novi… Apollo's suns…'

*X*

(92 Movement; 93 Feral)

Eddie waited to see Nathanial in the reception area. His finger bobbed the delicate petals of fresh Bulgar Novi blossoms Rudy had given Carol. She inspected Eddie, and saw signs of the streaks of magic in him.

'It's been six weeks, Detective.'

He repelled self-analysis. 'It's just… I still haven't figured out what those flowers smell like.'

'You will.'

'Hawskins said he'd bring the fruit when it ripened. I don't know what it tastes like, either. I know, I know,' he heard her words, 'I will.'

Pippin zipped in, speaking animatedly about details of their latest case. 'Carol, new flowers! Nice, nice.' He tilted forward for the mysterious scent, and in the movement Eddie smelled them, too, on a touch of breeze. But he doubted it, their fragrance never so potent. Clandestinely, Eddie leaned over to sniff Pippin's sandy hair. Monty returned upright.

'Anyway, Eddie, this case—it's big, right? Real big. Feral as a beast big, yeah? Wait. The superintendent hasn't let you in yet? Huh, well, Captain Cain wouldn't have kept his best men waiting.'

While Pippin attempted to obtain the superintendent's audience, Eddie paled. Carol smirked, sorting a file.

'I said you'd find out.'

He was speechless.

*X*

(94 Propulsion)

Life's propulsion sent them ahead, and more often than believed, Rudy returned with post from the O.Z. DG wrote letters spilling household antics. Ambrose's notes were full of cultural significance, and wishes for their return.

One September day, Eddie and Monty raised from their desks. Khan stood at the threshold.

'You have been to the last gate,' Khan said cryptically. 'I see it in you now.' He waited for no invitation, entering and sitting. 'Did you find Peter Hawskins at last, Detective?' He saw worry in Pippin, Eddie remaining bemused. Questions should be asked, not answered.

'What's the last gate?'

*X*

(95 Natural)

'What is wrong with you?' cried Fiona, flinging a dishtowel. 'You haven't been yourself since your stupid, mysterious trip, and I am this close, Eddie, this close, to throwing you out of the house!'

He swallowed, unable to tell her the truth. In that way, with Nigel on the couch instead of Monty, Eddie packed some belongings, put on Pete's leash, and knocked on a door well after 10 P.M.

Monty immediately understood, and ushered Eddie inside silently. Then, suddenly: 'You using Bulgar Novi shampoo now? It smells very, um, natural.'

A whisper of longing faded away, and Eddie smiled.

*X*

(96 Need)

Hawskins asked them to return. Eddie spun the note to Pippin's desk.

'Did we need an invitation to go back?' Pippin watched a thousand thoughts scattering from Eddie. It was instinctive to look at Princess DG's artwork, hanging where she'd wished.

'Khan's right,' Eddie suddenly spoke. 'It is the last gate.'

'Know how a good way to get there?'

The gate varied from person to person. 'A tornado, the back of a wardrobe, a police call box,' Eddie recited. But he knew his already. With Pippin at Eddie's side, standing in the rain, they waited for the first red bus.

*X*

(97 Seek)

More thrilled than anyone to see Eddie and Monty returned to the palace, DG sunk into the comfortable arm slipping around her waist. Ambrose hugged her, dragging his line of sight to the figures in the garden.

'Firelights and roses and a heaven of stars,' he said, but drew in a sharp, speculating breath. 'It's funny how they say that the less you seek love the more likely you are to find it.' Ambrose recognised DG's slanted grin, but she wouldn't be stirred from Eddie and Monty in the garden. 'I'm proud of them.'

'A family looks after each other.'

*X*

(98 Goodbye)

DG heard about Eddie's last gate, and confessed her connection of prophesy and dreams. She was held close against him, given away the second before the red trolley came. He knew how it worked now, and it didn't frighten. With their group of companions watching on, carrying a canvas satchel of Bulgar Novi, Eddie climbed into the empty trolley, a sullen Pippin next to him.

'Goodbyes are hateful,' Pippin remarked, impatient for a bland retort that never arrived. 'We'll be back. And you have your fruit, finally. Want to know what it tastes like?'

'I'll wait until we get home.'

*X*

(99 Flavour)

Considering the abundance of Bulgar Novi brought back from the trip, Eddie had no qualms sharing it with those who knew about the O.Z. At the Sticky Wicket, his friends gathered for the fruit's unveiling. Rudy and Carol were content in their twosome. Bill and Johnny stood close together, yet on either side of the border, as they tested the peach-hued chunks. Eddie had wanted Fiona there, but she wasn't ready for this.

Eddie popped a cube into Pippin's mouth, then had one himself. The flavour was honeyed wine and meadows sweet. It was unknown. It was magic and everything.

*X*

(100 Reflection)

'This is ridiculous, Eddie. One of these days we'll actually live together. And my socks, my own, will fit.'

Eddie snorted, knotting his tie before the mirror. Pippin, not yet with trousers on, was a reflection. A thought returned to him. Peter Hawskins had said once that love brought mirrors. Bits of glass that show us the truth of ourselves.

Eddie kissed Monty once, the taste and sensation ever-changing.

'Bulgar Novi,' they chanted in unison, laughing, reminders of the fruit.

'My tie straight?' Eddie's hands were pressed away, Monty's view from behind him.

'To the left a little, I think.'