Kieren wakes in the morning to find himself wrapped in Simon's arms, his back pressed against his chest. He lies there for a while, listening to the soft sound of breathing against the back of his neck. He has spent the night at the bungalow on numerous occasions over the past few months, but it was still a little strange to be waking up somewhere new - only strange in a good way.

Raising his head, he peers over at the clock by the bed. The Walkers were having a family BBQ at lunchtime in celebration of Jem's twentieth, before her big birthday bash at The Legion later. Family members only - well except for Simon and Jem's new fella - Matthew Lonsdale, whoever he was.

Apparently, Jem had met him in some club in town last month. He was twenty-one, a college student and was studying business studies, but best of all, had nothing to do whatsoever with the HVF during the war. It did not really matter to Kieren who he was - anyone would be better than Gary Kendal and so far Jem had not shut up about him. So whoever he turned out to be, he automatically got Kieren's vote.

Jem had had a tough time of it of late and it was good for her to have something nice and normal in her life now. Having joined the HVF at only fourteen, she had seen and done things no teenager should have to during The Rising. Instead of going on shopping sprees and discussing boys with her mates, or sneaking out behind her parent's back down the park and getting pissed on litre bottles of White Lightning cider and trying to get served cigarettes in the local off-license, she was killing Rabids and watching her brothers in arms ripped limb from limb in front of her, while working dangerous patrols late into the night.

The experience had had a lasting and damaging effect and left her with PTSD. She was getting through it though. With the support of her family, regular counselling and prescribed anti-depressants for the anxiety, she was making good progress and had not woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, haunted by nightmares of the war, for some time now.

Attempting to untangle himself from Simon, Kieren moves to get up, but strong arms tightened their grip around him and there are cool lips pressing gentle kisses along his naked shoulder.

"Ye going somewhere?" asks a drowsy voice against his skin.

"We both are actually. It's half nine and we've got a BBQ to go to," answers Kieren, still trying to extract himself from Simon's embrace. His heart is not really in it though and he lays still after a moment, giving himself over to just enjoying the sensation.

"Relax," Simon soothes softly, barely more than a whisper. "We've got plenty of time."

For what exactly?

"Yeah, but I said I'd drop in at The Legion first to make sure everything's okay for tonight. Pearl was fussing about the DJ they've got booked. Anyway, how can yer still be tired?"

Simon is now on the NHS sanctioned PDS medication after his supplies ran out from the ULA. Considering what he put himself through with Halperin & Weston for the drug to be developed, he was hesitant at first to convert, but his relationship with the ULA was not in the best of places right now, so he had little choice in the matter - unless he wanted to turn rabid again or be sent back to Norfolk as a non-compliant.

Despite Simon's strong moral objections to taking it, it clearly worked far better for him than it did for Kieren, who could never sleep for any length of time. Kieren no longer had flashbacks from his untreated days as a Rabid, but the phrase 'sleep when I'm dead' certainly did not resonate with him in any way, shape or form. On Doctor Russo's advice, he had moved on to Neurotriptyline Plus recently, which according to the pharmaceutical company's leaflet that came in the box was the 'next generation' of Neurotriptyline. Shirley Wilson had reassured him most PDS were transferring over to it now as it promised to increase sleep duration, decrease anxiety or nervousness and lessen interpersonal distress - although Kieren had not really noticed any difference, if he was honest – but he had got some funny side effects since taking it. Sometimes his hands would shake for no apparent reason, but that was mainly after his daily dose had been administered. He had started to experience tremors some months before - as far back as December, in fact - which was one of the reasons he had changed to the new drug in the first place.

On the new medication, it had only become more frequent however, even having the occasional blackout and nosebleed once or twice. He put it to the back of his mind, making a deal with himself that he would only mention it to Doctor Russo if it persisted.

Or maybe, only if it happened more frequently?

Yes, that was a better idea. No point in bringing it up otherwise.

Norfolk was always only too happy to take people back for 'further treatment' and those he had known who had be carted off by the men in white coats were never seen again. Like Alex taking Blue Oblivion, while still in the treatment centre, and Freddie Preston last year, missing a single dose and reverting to a rabid state. Gary had packed him off as a non-compliant and Freddie, even now, had still not returned to Roarton Valley. Kieren suspected he never would.

"I'm tired, because someone kept me up most of the night breaking in our new sleeping arrangements," Simon complains, sounding far from put out by the circumstances.

"I kept you up?" Kieren snorts, hoping the comment was not meant as a euphemism. "Make sure yer don't say anything like that in front of me dad later. I can still remember the look on his face over lunch that time, when yer said we met at work as yer, "liked the way I gave back." Thought he was going to choke on his Sunday roast!"

Simon opens his eyes in defeat. Clearly further sleep was going to be impossible.

"Kieren?" he asks, pulling at his shoulder for Kieren to turn around and face him, causing the bed springs to creak as they move. Kieren obliges, laying flat on his back as Simon moves over him, kissing him deeply. This was a far better way to start the day.

He brushes his fingertips over Kieren's cover-up free cheekbones, around his jaw, and drags his thumb over his lips. His expression is serious and sincere.

"You're beautiful, ye know that?"

"Well I wouldn't say beautiful, morgeous as Amy would say, maybe?" Kieren grins, making light of the compliment. He still is not used to receiving them.

The corners of Simon's lips curl slightly at the mention of their veracious and sorely missed friend.

"Okay, that too," he concedes, pausing for a moment, as if there is something that has been weighing heavy on his mind. Kieren can see the internal battle going on inside his head as to whether or not now is the time to mention it.

Kieren makes the decision for him and helps him out. "Come on then, what?"

Simon looks back at him, critically. "When are ye going to stop trying to pretend to the world that you're somebody that you're not?"

Kieren frowns. This is unexpected.

"Sorry, I don't know what yer mean? I've stopped wearing the cover-up and contacts, well except for work." He knows that.

"And yet, you're still hiding away from who ye really are, Kieren."

What is he talking about? "I don't follow."

Simon takes a moment, waiting to see if he will comprehend his meaning, but Kieren just gazes back, all wide eyes and extraordinary.

He takes Kieren's free hand in his own, threading their fingers through one another and pressing their palms together. He needs to connect with him and it is as much a gesture of affection as it is a symbol.

"Where does your dad think you're sleeping now?"

Kieren raises both eyebrows in surprise. This feels like a trick. He does not want to sound facetious, as clearly Simon is trying to make a point here, but he is just not sure what that point is. So far the conversation, quite frankly, is continuing straight over his head.

"In the bungalow?" he answers, practically another question. Is that what he meant?

Simon drags his eyes away from Kieren's and directs them unseeing towards the end of the bed, nodding fractionally in disappointment.

"Ye should tell Steve, ye know? Let him know who ye are."

Oh? Oh!

There is silence for a moment as Kieren ponders his words. Simon is right of course, but is he ready to bare all? Could he not just have some time for himself to enjoy it, before he has to make some big stand once again? Sometimes his whole life – first and second - felt like one continual never ending battle, fighting the rest of the world after he had won the war with himself.

Kieren squeezed his fingers around Simon's, claiming back his attention.

'I know and I will', his look says, but for now he just vocalises, "Can you stop talking, please?"

"Kieren, I'm sorry. Look I kn…" but whatever Simon is going to say is silenced with a kiss.

He is hesitant at first. They both knew the conversation was far from over and there was more to be discussed, but with a little encouragement, Simon is soon pressing back into the kiss once again.

They continue to kiss. Going from reassuring but tentative brushes of lips and tongues, reaffirming their trust in one another; to more passionate declarations of the unconditional love they shared, that left them both catching their breath.

Kieren eventually and with some regret, pulls away. Before things could go any further, he did need to say something more on the subject.

"Can yer just give me some time?"

Simon nods in understanding. After all, he does not want to force Kieren. It had to be his decision at the end of the day, regardless of how strongly he felt about it.

"And it's not like we don't have quite a bit of it on our hands now," Kieren reasons, "But I do know you're right."

"I usually am," Simon teases, breaking the tension. Kieren just smiles back bravely.

Truthfully, the very idea made him nervous, to say the least. Not because he feared his dad's rejection, but Kieren had put Steve through a lot in recent years. It was Steve who had ventured out that night in November five years ago. Jem had told him about the cave Rick and he would hang out in, and he had found his son's lifeless body there, slumped on a rock and drenched in his own blood, weeping from vertical slashes carved deep into each fragile wrist. Kieren later learned that Steve had shut down completely after his death. Sue blamed him, even though she knew she should not, but grief manifests itself in various different ways and once Kieren had returned to them, she was finally able to admit the anger she had bottled up for so long.

The fact was, Steve had not always fought Kieren's corner to begin with, but when it mattered, he was always there for him in the end. If he could accept his son coming out as an openly Partially Deceased Syndrome Sufferer - even be proud of him when he finally understood the courage it had taken for him to do so - they should be able to get through this.

Steve was not Bill Macy. It would be all right.

At least, he hoped it would.

In time, anyway - and time had a habit of healing all wounds, no matter how deep they cut.

Three quarters of an hour later, Kieren finally escapes from the bed; a little more exhausted, but a lot surer of his future. His future (and present) stays in bed just a little longer.

Showered and dressed, Kieren unboxes Jem's birthday present in the kitchen, ready to be wrapped, when Simon comes over to give him his morning shot. He was used to it by now, but still winces as the medication floods his system. Moments later he experiences the usual tremor, but does his best to conceal it from Simon. He does not want to be a further worry to anyone.

"Thanks," he says, swapping positions with Simon and taking the second injector from his hand to administer his dose.

"This for Jem?" Simon asks, examining the brightly painted calavera on the table.

"Yep. Yer know she has a thing about skulls, though she can't have a lotta room for many more. Her bedroom's beginning to look like an ossuary as it is."

Kieren pulls Simon's shirt collar away from his neck and upper back and is immediately confronted with the ragged black scar between his shoulder blades, running down the length of his spin. It is a war wound left behind from the experimentation carried out on him at the treatment centre - although torture centre might have been a better description.

It serves as a stark reminder to Kieren of what Simon had gone through and those experiences that drove him to hold the beliefs he imparted to him and other Roarton PDS when they first met. In retrospect, Kieren could not blame him for their first argument at the GP's surgery with two doped Rabids, caged like animals, and about to be packed off and shipped out to Norfolk. If he had known then what he knew now, perhaps Simon could have persuaded him to break them out and treat them back at the bungalow as he had suggested at the time. They had been blamed for their escape anyway, when Zoe and Brian had made good on Simon's idea – well, the part about releasing them anyway. The CCTV had not be running over the weekend to prove their innocence, and the attack on the medical centre receptionist, Denise, as a consequence of their ULA inspired mission, had helped no one.

It had only been a few months, but Kieren's concept of the term 'treatment' had shifted quite considerably in that short time, having gotten to know Simon better. When they had discussed their differences of opinion of the right thing to do back then, their conversation had meant very different things to each of them based on their own experiences with Halperin & Weston. From Kieren's perspective, he felt the best thing for any PDS Sufferer still in their rabid state would be to be treated at Norfolk with the proper drugs, where Simon believed they would only be fairly treated by the ULA. The cruelty-free homebrew medication they used was not the issue, basic PDS rights were.

As Kieren administers his dose, Simon turns the grapefruit sized clay skull in his hands and frowns, "Aren't these meant to be made of sugar?"

"Sure, if you're in Mexico. Had to get that off the Internet."

Visiting North America, for the Mexican Day of the Dead celebrations, was something that had always been marked down on his Bucket List. With all registered PDS Sufferers however, not having a valid passport until they had completed at least six months on the Give Back Scheme - and as a result their cases reviewed and certificates granted - he was not going anywhere.

Standing up, Simon tidies away the injectors and puts the bottles of medication back in the fridge, while Kieren begins wrapping Jem's present.

"Ye want me to come with ye down to The Legion before we go to your folks house?"

"Nah, I won't be long, I'll meet yer at mum and dad's," Kieren says, adding a last piece of sellotape to the present, before starting to fill out Jem's birthday card, which has 'BAD ASS' appropriately emblazoned across the front.

"I'm putting this from both of us, by the way," he adds. Even if he has not told Steve about the two of them yet, he still makes it clear to his family in every other way that they are a couple.

Kieren licks the envelope and seals it. "Hey, don't forget Jem's bringing that new boyfriend of hers, Matthew… or Matt? I think he prefers Matt. That's what Jem calls him anyway – every two seconds."

"Let's hope he's not as bad as the last one, ay?" Simon says, looking around for his lighter. Tobacco is going to be required later on in that case.

"I think that would be a pretty tall order, even for Jem," Kieren states, standing up to start the busy day ahead of them.


Kieren notices that Jem has been staring at Simon expectantly since he arrived at the house. He wants to ask what is going on, but waits it out instead. Jem is not the most patient of people and certainly not backward in coming forward, so he suspects he will not have long to wonder.

"So, come on then," she finally asks, brimming with anticipation when she and Simon are sitting alone in the back garden together, "Yer said you'd teach me some moves on my birthday. Well, it's my birthday, isn't it?"

"What's this?" Steve asks, coming back from the garden shed with a large bag of paraffin soaked charcoal, Kieren in tow with a box of matches and stainless steel tongs.

After struggling for a bit, Kieren's offers of help ignored, Steve manages to get the correct amount of charcoal in the base of the BBQ and lights it, blowing gently and waving it with his hands like it is a camp fire he is trying to get going.

"First time Si met Gary was down at The Legion. Kier told me that Gaz kicked off – big surprise there - and went for him. But Si caught him in a headlock before he could get anywhere near. Said he'd show me some stuff."

Steve stops concentrating on the flames that are taking hold and looks up, somewhat alarmed.

"Not sure we want any fighting today, Jemima."

"It's not fighting dad, it's 'self-defence'," she corrects, making virtual quotation marks in the air with her fingers to emphasise the fact. "It's so I can take care of meself without me Colt, so if I come across a Rabid I can protect meself, while no one gets hurt."

Steve seems satisfied. "Oh, well in that case, it doesn't sounds like a bad idea. Hey, maybe your mum could learn some of these techniques too?"

"Mum?" Jem laughs, "I don't think so, dad. Strictly for bad asses."

Steve scowls at the term and directs his attention back to the BBQ.

"Please, Si, yer did promise," Jem presses, directing her eyes at her brother, imploringly, "Kier, tell him will yer?"

Simon sighs in defeat before Kieren is forced to take sides. "Yeah, yeah, alright, alright. Come on then, yous," he says, rising to his feet.

"Wait, we need a target," she looks to Steve, dismissing the idea immediately, and then to her brother. "Bro, come over here and pretend to be rabid."

"What? NO! I'm not getting involved in this. Spent all the time I want being rabid, thanks."

"It's only pretend, dickhead. Come on Kier, it'll be a laugh."

Jem does her best to look crest fallen and tries the same method on him that worked so well on Simon only moments before. "And it is my birthday."

Kieren visibly caves in. Pretty impressive - she has managed to guilt trip both Simon and Kieren into helping her with her self-defence class in exactly the same way.

"Fine," Kieren concedes, rolling his eyes. "What am I doing then?"

Jem jumps up enthusiastically, pleased to be getting her own way so easily.

"Dunno, just walk around like you're rabid or something? Do what they do in the horror films."

She has got to be kidding.

"Jem, Rabids aren't anything like Hollywood zombies." As if she did not know.

Jem narrows her eyes at him giving him a withering look. Recognising when he is beaten, Kieren huffs loudly and holds his arms out stretched in front of him. Locking his limbs and walking in a stiff manner, as seen in every zombie apocalypse film ever made. He begins to groan, "Grrr" and feels like a complete idiot for his troubles.

Hands on hips, Jem presses her lips together and looks to the ground, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. Simon is harder to read, somewhere between mildly offended and surprisingly amused. He stares at Kieren's actions in front of him with raised eyebrows and mutters what sounds like, "Jesus Christ" under his breath, shaking his head.

Kieren stops abruptly at the reactions, folding his arms and pouting his lips. Yes, he does pout on occasion - secretly Simon finds it endearing.

"Forget it!"

Steve's been watching in amazement the whole time. "I thought that was very good, Kieren. Very authentic," he beams. "You were always pretty good in those school plays of yours."

Kieren wrinkles his face at the sour memory. "Er, last school play I was in, dad, was when I was eleven in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' and I played a tree!"

Steve looks as if he is trying to remember this momentous event, but Kieren carries on regardless.

"As I recall, your assessment of my acting abilities then was, and I quote, "You were really wooden in it.""

His sister is still trying to compose herself. "I think dad meant that as a complement, Kier," she interjects, between ragged breaths.

Kieren has really had enough now. He knows he sounds petulant, but he cannot help it. "Look, are we doing this or not?"

Simultaneously, Jem and Simon both instantly agree, moving things along quickly.

"Right, Kieren walk toward me. Don't worry, I'll be gentle with ye," Simon winks, but it is not him Kieren is worried about; it is Bad Ass over there.

Simon demonstrates a couple of things and Jem practices them under his supervision. Kieren meanwhile is just glad his skin cannot bruise; otherwise he is sure he would be black and blue come the morning. Jem is really enjoying herself though, so he grins and bears it. The things a big brother will do for his sister!

She is throwing everything she has got into it now and making good progress by the time the doorbell rings.

"Sue, can yer get the door please, love," Steve calls out to his wife in the kitchen, who herself is currently elbow deep in potato salad. "I've just put the sausages on the BBQ."

"Can't someone else get it? I'm a bit tied up here meself!" a muffled voice calls back from inside the house.

"It's alright, I'll go. You two, keep practicing," Simon instructs in a mock stern voice, pointing at both Kieren and Jem in accusation.

"Cheers Simon, don't want these sausages to burn," Steve says, turning the browning meat.

Simon makes his way through the house, past the kitchen, which is full of bowls and plates containing cold side dishes and other savoury concoctions - enough to feed a small army he thinks - and heads for the porch. He can see a young man in his early twenties with smart designer jeans and bright red t-shirt through the glass. Tall, fair and conventionally handsome - if you like that sort of thing - he is waiting patiently with a gift-wrapped box in his hand.

Simon opens the front door.

"Er, hello," the visitor manages to say after a moment. He looks as if he is trying to decide whether or not to follow his instincts and run, or stand his ground and brave it out. The latter appears to win over after a few more seconds tick by in silence; all the while Simon continues to stare down at him.

He clears his throat, trying to sound more confident. "Sorry, have I got the right house? I'm looking for Jemima Walker."

Ah, the new boyfriend. "Ye must be Matthew, it's good to meet ye. I'm Simon."

"Matt," he corrects, extending a slightly nervous hand. "Nice to meet yer too. Oh you're Kieren's… er, sorry, Jem didn't tell me yer were PDS."

Simon shakes his hand firmly and smiles in welcome. Matthew tries not to recoil at the icy touch. He has not met anyone who is partially deceased before now. Seen them on the news of course and the posters in the doctor's surgery. Might have passed one at a distance on the street even, but he has never been close enough to touch one or have a proper look before. It is the first time he has seen their pinprick eyes with his own or touched their cold skin. He knows he is staring, but is not sure whether to feel intimidated by Simon, or if this is what all PDS are usually like.

"Everyone's out the back in the garden, if ye wanna follow me," Simon says, leading the way around the side of the house instead of the way he came.

"Hope I'm not late," Matthew says, trying to make conversation as they corner the house. "Don't know Roarton very well and got a bit lo…"

He trails off immediately after they enter the garden through the back gate, stopping dead at the sound of Jem's bloody curdling scream.

"HELP!"

Matthew looks on, frozen in horror as Jem yells again, this time loud enough to wake the dead.

A Rabid with pale mottled skin, large dead eyes and red blond hair, is chasing after her on the grass, narrowly missing the flowerbeds.

"Oh my God, w-what do we do?" Matthew stutters in pure panic.

Simon cocks his head and looks at him, puzzled.

"Sorry, do? About what?"

Then realisation hits him and he takes a closer look at the scene playing out in front of them.

Kieren is doing a masterful job of being a stereotypical zombie, groaning and stalking his prey practically in slow motion. God only knows who thought that up.

You have to be kidding. "Oh, that?"

Simon by nature is not a cruel man, but he cannot help himself. "Well ye could try saving her I s'pose, but to be honest, she looks done for to me."

All colour has drained from Matthew's face now and slowly, Simon starts to laugh, stopping the zombie and damsel in distress horror movie duo in their tracks.

"Jesus, I'm kidding," Simon explains, clapping Matthew on the back. "She's fine, that's Kieren. And to be honest, I'd be more likely to put money on him needing to be saved from her rather than the other way 'round."

"Hey, I heard that!" Kieren objects from across the lawn.

Jem runs over to Matthew in greeting, throwing her arms around him for a hug.

"Yer found it okay then? This is Simon," she nods in Simon's direction.

"Yeah, we just met," he mumbles, somewhat embarrassed.

"And this is my big brother, Kieren. He's a total loser, but he'll do."

"Thanks Jem! Don't listen to her. It's nice to finally meet yer Matt. Jem hasn't stopped going on about yer," he says, coming over too, to shake his hand.

"Kieren! Yer can be such a dick sometimes," Jem chides, looking mortified. "Ignore him. Anyway, this is me dad, Steve. Me mum Sue, is in the kitchen at the minute doing her potato salad. You've gotta try it, it's fab."

Well, normal family BBQ it is then.

"Matthew," Steve says, abandoning the cooking for a moment to say hello. "Hope these two didn't give yer a fright there?"

Matthew lies unconvincingly. "No, 'course not."

"What's your surname, Lonsdale? Sylvia down t'road any relation to yer?"

Matthew shakes his head. "No, don't think so. But then, Lonsdale's quite a common name," he shrugs. "There's two others at the college I go to; no relation to them, neither."

"Ah, well in that case, suppose it must be," Steve agrees, accompanied by a usual cheery smile. "Not many Walkers around these parts though. Anyway, Matthew, yer want a beer? Be nice to have another man about the place I can have a drink with."

"You two don't drink?" Matthew asks, looking to Kieren, then Simon and back to Kieren again.

"We can't, not lager anyway," Kieren explains, while Matthew looks part way between surprised and horrified again. "Bitter either. Or most liquids, actually, come to that."

In fact, Matthew has not stopped looking shocked since he arrived, so Kieren tries to reassure him using the 'training' he has received on the Give Back Scheme.

"Don't worry, we're fully compliant PDS Sufferers and have been administered Neurotriptyline within the last twenty four hours, so will not enter a rabid state any time soon."

"That's good," Matthew laughs awkwardly. "I've read some stuff."

"Oh yeah?" Simon enquires, going into teacher mode. "Well don't go believing everything ye read or hear. We're just the same as the living in most things."

Kieren gives him a remonstrative look.

"Only our eyes are prettier," Simon adds quickly with a smile, which seems to do the trick. Matthew even finally appears to relax enough to smile back.

Kieren smiles too. This should be an interesting afternoon.

"Everyone, tuck in,' Sue says, sitting down at the table in the garden after lunch has been served. Steve has poured cold water over the burning embers of the BBQ, making them hiss and waft great blooms of grey smoke everywhere.

"It's turned out nice today," Steve says, sitting down too to join his family, as all but Kieren and Simon start to help themselves to the food, piling their plates high. "Nice to have a bit of sunshine for a change."

Everyone agrees in unison.

There are bowls of salads and coleslaw amongst plates of rolls and BBQ meat, crammed onto every last corner of the weathered garden table. Jem is spooning out some of Sue's potato salad onto Matthew's plate when he notices both Kieren and Simon are sitting in front of empty table settings.

"Don't you two eat either?"

Simon glances at Steve - who has a chicken drumstick frozen half way to his mouth in anticipation of Jem's graphic answer - and automatically jumps in to steer the conversation away from any "puking their guts up" comments or similar descriptions of what exactly does happen to a PDS Sufferer who consumes 'living' food.

"We can, but it's best we don't," he tactfully explains.

"Oh, right,' Matthew says after a moment. "Feels dead wrong though, us all eating, while you two just sit there. What happens if yer eat something?"

Simon clears his throat. This could be awkward. "Er, well…"

"Yer ever had food poisoning, Matt?" Kieren interjects, rescuing Simon.

Matthew nods cautiously. He has a horrible feeling he might regret his question.

"Solids are toxic to us. So it's kinda the same as food poisoning if we eat anything." Kieren leaves out the "except for brains" part, which he figures would really freak the poor kid out.

Steve attempts to change the subject. "These sausages are really juicy. I said Sue, didn't I? I said, yer pop down Hargrave's Butchers and get some proper no-nonsense British pork sausages. None of this messed about with imported rubbish yer get down t'supermarket."

"Yer did, Steve," Sue agrees complacently, "And very nice they are. Makes a change for me not to have to do the cooking too."

There's silence for a moment while they eat. Brown sauce and salad dressing is passed around the table.

"In fact, when I was in Hargrave's this morning, I bumped into Nita," Sue continues, tightening the lid on one of the bottles before trying to find a space to place it back on the table. "She said there's something going on up at Lambert Farm."

Steve stops chewing. "Didn't know the farm's been sold. Thought it was still in probate after what happened up there after The Rising."

Jem keeps her eyes down, fixed on her plate. She does not want to think about what happened at Lambert Farm on her very first mission, and especially what she did there.

Steve carries on, obliviously. "That's what Duncan said, and he should know, he's on the Parish Council."

Kieren thinks back to the previous evening.

"Don't think it's up for sale, dad. Simon and I saw a load of caravans on Lambert land on the way home from work last night."

"Pikeys? Bollocks, really?" Jem groans. The one thing the Parish Council will consider even worse than Rabids being up there. Guess the RPS will be getting their orders any time soon.

"Bloody hell, Jemima, language!" Steve scolds.

Jem gives him a 'what?!' look in return.

"I think they prefer the term 'Travellers', love," Sue points out.

"Well I didn't say Gypos, did I?!" Jem protests, as both Steve and Sue continue to look appalled.

Yet another change of subject, Kieren thinks.

"So, the new vicar came in to The Legion last night. Have any of yer met him yet?"

Steve nods. "Been to a few or his services. Very different from Vicar Oddie, isn't he Sue?"

Sue agrees, so Kieren carries on making idle conversation. It is either the new vicar or back to the weather.

"Did yer know he was a doctor as well as a vicar? Introduced himself as Dr. David Sinclair."

"Well, can't harm to have another doctor about the place. Not that Tom's not a good GP. He worked wonders when I did my back in."

"He's not that kind of a doctor," Simon corrects. "He's a Doctor of Philosophy in Molecular Biology."

"How do yer know that?" Kieren asks, surprised. He did not leave them alone for very long last night, and certainly not long enough to get the full rundown of his qualifications, anyway.

"There was an article about him in the Roarton Gazette."

So Simon knew more about him than he let on. Typical.

"What's a Molecular Biologist do when they're at home, then?" Jem asks, trying to pierce a plum tomato, but only succeeding to chase it around her plate with a fork. Sue really needs to have words with her about her table manners.

"Molecular Biology is the study of molecular processes that underpin cell function and replication. It kinda goes hand in hand with Genetics and Biochemistry."

"Well, I didn't know that," Sue says, looking impressed by Simon's scientific knowledge - along with everyone else at the table. Kieren included.

"Not just a pretty face, ay Kier?" Jem winks at her brother.

"Well, he only wants me for me brains," Simon remarks, remaining straight faced as Kieren tries to do likewise.

Steve's eyes open minutely wider at the comment, before frowning at the double meaning. Not sure if he should be more concerned about the 'wanting' or the 'brains' part, he plasters a smile on his face instead.

"Sounds all very complicated," he finally says, while really thinking that the conversation itself is getting a little too complicated for his liking. "What's for pudding, love?"

"Sherry trifle," Sue tells him for at least the third time.

"Oh, love a bit of trifle, me," Steve beams, "Do yer like trifle, Matt?"

Matthew chews quickly and swallows his mouthful of potato salad. "Yeah, sure."

Probably best to stick to subjects like the weather for the remainder of the meal. It might make for duller conversation, but it is a lot less controversial. Matthew is finding out rapidly that navigating around the trials and pitfalls of a Walker family meal is always a dangerous business - living or undead.


Despite arriving at The Legion early, several people are already here for Jem's birthday do. The sunshine from earlier in the day has been short lived and the sky has returned to its usual grey overcast state, ready to start raining again at any second. Guests were obviously turning up in advance of the impending downpour.

The DJ is setting up his decks on the raised stage area at the far end of the pub, plugging in the multi-coloured strobe lights, while some of Jem's school mates are gathered around the pool table, tossing a coin to see who will break first. Philip, Shirley and her new beau Tom Russo, the local GP, are already at the bar ordering drinks, while Frankie Kirby and a thankfully non-rabid Rob from Jem's class at school, are also in and making an early start on the HiGlow. They may be frozen in time as sixteen year olds, but their birth dates make it legal to buy (living or PDS) alcohol at the bar.

"I'll get the first round in," Steve says to Kieren, Jem and Matt, reaching inside his jacket pocket for his wallet.

Simon had offered to help Sue bring the surprise birthday cake, so they were arriving a bit later in order to give her time to add the finishing touches.

They all make themselves comfortable on one of the middle tables, the best one in the pub, as people begin to drift over to wish Jem a happy birthday and bestow cards and gifts on her, which she accepts cheerily.

Steve returns after a few minutes, carrying a tray of drinks and sets it down on the table.

"Pint of cider for you Jem, pint of bitter for meself and Matt, and I got you a bottle of that HiGlow stuff, Kieren," he says placing each glass on a bar mat in front of them.

Kieren looks at the bright green bottled liquid dubiously. "Thanks, dad," he says to be polite.

"Have yer tried it yet? That Frankie said it was worth a go."

Kieren shakes his head, picking it up reluctantly.

"To Jem," Steve says, raising his glass as everyone does likewise. "Happy birthday to me little girl. Well, not so little anymore, ay? Outta the dreaded teenage years and in yer twenties."

Jem pulls a face. "Can't I be twenteen?"

"Can't stop the aging process, I'm afraid," Steve laughs.

"Unless you're me, of course. PDS is the new Botox," Kieren points out to his dad's chargrin.

They all clink their glasses and each takes a gulp of their drinks - some larger than others.

"So, what d'ya think?" Jem asks Kieren after he sets his bottle back down. Matthew just looks relieved that he is drinking with them at all, regardless of how much he is enjoying it.

"It's alright, actually," Kieren nods.

Matthew cannot help but be intrigued by this supernatural glowing beverage. "What does it taste like?"

Kieren shrugs. "Dunno really. A bit like a regular alcopop I s'pose. Sort of sweet, but with a kick."

It felt surprisingly normal to be drinking it, despite the alarming colour, and the fact he had not drunk anything in five years. It felt good to be doing something normal and being able to join in with the rest of his family.

"Sounds good," Jem smiles. "Better drink up then bro, your turn to get the drinks in next."

More people are arriving now and Jem and Matthew have disappeared off to greet some of their mates.

"Same again, dad?" Kieren asks after both their drinks are empty.

"Don't mind if I do." Steve says, and it occurs to Kieren that he does not mind if he does either, which comes a surprise.

It was a good couple of hours by the time Sue and Simon arrive at The Legion, by which time it is packed to the brim. The bright strobe lighting can be seen flashing red, green and purple through the windows and the music can be heard blaring out half way down the street.

As they enter through the main door, they have to squeeze through the crowd to even get to the bar.

"I'm going to find Pearl about the cake," Sue shouts to Simon over the music, gesturing to the large box in her hands.

Simon nods as Sue leaves him to see Pearl about setting up the cake out of the way. She did not want it getting knocked over after all the work she has put into it, especially having noticed the already semi demolished finger buffet she organised.

Simon looks around trying to locate Kieren.

"Simon, h-h-h-heeey! I missed youuu," Kieren calls out, waving his arms about in the air, as soon as he catches sight of him.

The DJ has been asking for requests all night and Kieren is dancing – well doing something energetic anyway – to the music with his sister, Matthew and some other people Simon does not recognise.

Simon raises his eyebrows. "Letting ye hair down, I see," he says, coming over to them, and gesturing towards the bottle of that green PDS stuff in Kieren's hand.

"Oh my God, yer haaave to try this HiGlow, it's a-a-a-amaaazing!" Kieren slurs, beaming from ear to ear.

"So it would seem. How many have ye had?"

"Dunnnno, lost count."

"That's his fourth," Jem shouts back, "He's such a lighweight."

"Am not!" Kieren protests.

"Yer SO are!" she insists, still bobbing up and down to the heavy thumping of the base.

"Ye guys want another?" Simon asks.

"Pint of cider, please, Si," Jem asks, "Matt'll have a bitter and another radioactive alcopop for this loser."

"Get one for yerself too," Kieren encourages.

"Yeah, we'll see," Simon says, pushing through the crowd to the bar.

He passes Gary and Raymond on the way, who are nursing their pints and eying up most of Jem's female mates from school. Dean and Keith are next to them playing 'Altered Beast' on the old arcade machine.

When Simon comes back with the drinks, minus one for himself, he notices Gary has gone and Raymond is trying to chat up a girl who is wearing far too much make-up – and who, not to mention, looks far too young for him.

He hands over the drinks as the last song ends and the DJ picks up the microphone.

"We have another request," the DJ announces. "This one's for 'Loverboy', because apparently, "you're dead romantic." So whoever you are, this one's for you."

The creaking of an opening door sounds over the speakers, followed by footsteps and a wolf howling, before Michael Jackson starts to sing.

It's close to midnight,

Something evil's lurking in the dark,

Under the moonlight,

You see a sight that almost stops your heart.

Steve who has joined Kieren, Jem and Matthew in time for Simon to get him a drink, looks to the DJ and frowns. "Who asked for this?"

Kieren looks around for Gary and clocks him by the DJ. He is not surprised to find him staring right back at him. Shaking his head, he receives a wink in return.

"Twwwo guesses," Kieren sighs.

"Don't think it's very appropriate, considering," Steve grumbles.

Everyone tries to ignore the song, until Gary begins to sing along loudly to the lyrics.

"Creatures crawl in search of blood,

To terrorize y'all's neighbourhood."

"I'll have a word," Simon says, already making his way over to Gary who has now been joined by the rest of the dickhead brigade.

"The foulest stench's in the air… We bloody know that. Too right, mate," Gary says loud enough for the whole pub to hear even over the music.

As Simon approaches, Gary tries to give him the cold shoulder, but Simon is not that easily deterred.

"Your request, I take it?"

"Yeah, I'm dead funny, me," Gary chuckles back.

"Side splitting. So ye wanna keep it down?" Simon asks reasonably.

Gary ignores him, continuing to sing even louder now.

"And grizzly ghouls from every tomb,

Are closing in to seal your doom."

Simon steps closer. Dean is looking less than happy about the situation and edges aside, making more room for Simon. Raymond and Keith try to stand their ground, but are looking more wary as the seconds tick past.

Simon is unmoved; it will take a lot more than singing lyrics from a pop song from the eighties to provoke him, but a little intimidation never hurt anyone.

"Or would ye prefer me to make ye?"

Gary glares back at him.

"Fock off, deadhead. I'm not taking shit off a deadon like yer. Yer should be locked up!" he says, before downing the rest of his pint. "Or better still, six foot under, not walking around Roarton like yer have right to be here like the rest of us. Your kind's got no focking right and as soon as parish council grow some balls and authorise some pest control, yer better watch your back, Rotter, because I'll be putting a bullet in it."

"Come on Gaz, leave it, yeah?" Dean pleads, trying to pull him away and diffuse the situation. This will not end well otherwise. He has seen Gary come a cropper with Simon before and he does not want to get caught in the crossfire, but with the amount of pints Gary has sunk tonight, he clearly is not thinking straight.

Steve has been watching the exchange with concern. He does not like confrontation, but decides to take charge of the situation and goes over before anything kicks off.

"Y'all right Gary. What's going on here then? Simon?"

"Ayup Steve. Good do this," Dean says, trying to act cool as if nothing is going on and they are just all mates having a laugh. "Gary just wanted to wish Jem a happy birthday, didn't yer, Gaz?"

Dean bumps him with his arm to agree, but Gary remains silent.

"Before he leaves," Simon adds, his face stone.

"Is that right, Gary?" Steve asks, unconvinced, "Because I wouldn't want any trouble. Not tonight, being Jem's birthday and all."

Gary looks to Simon and considers his options. If he had not had that last pint, he is sure he could take him.

"Yeah, that's right Steve. Me and Simon here were just catching up, but maybe another time then. Ay, mate?"

He puts his empty pint glass on a near by table and stands directly in front of Simon, getting right in his face, nose to nose, before pushing past him towards the door. They all watch him go.

Steve signs with relief, "Got me worried there, almost put me off me piece of cake. Yer had any yet? One thing I can say about our Sue, she can sure make a good bit of sponge."

"I'm sure it's delicious, Steve. Anyway, it's fine, no need to worry," Simon smiles reassuring at him.

The song ends and the entire pub suddenly is silent. No new song starts to play and no one says a word.

Apart from Gary.

"Invited your other rotten mates along, did yer?" he shouts back at Simon.

Coming through the door is what looks like a group of PDS. Kieren strains to see who they are. He does not recognise them and neither does anyone else. They are certainly not locals.

Gary goes to make a move, "Well, we'll see about th…" But Simon has him already, buckling back his right arm, forcing him through the door and throwing him onto the wet road outside.

The air is cold, but you cannot see Simon's breath as he speaks quietly, his voice completely calm and steady.

"I warned ye," he says, crouching down to Gary's level. "Ye see Gary, they say the very definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Have ye not learnt yet?"

Gary spits out a mouthful of blood from where he has landed face first on the tarmac and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red liquid across it. "This isn't over yer focking Irish Grotter! Yer just keep watching yer back."

Kieren has made it outside along with Jem and Dean and a couple of others who had braved it out and are contemplating whether or not to call the police. Raymond and Keith are nowhere to be seen, having sensibly decided that they would sit this one out.

"Will do," Simon says turning his back on Gary, who is still sprawled on the ground, to usher everyone back inside the pub. Nothing to see, not anymore.

After everyone has filed back in, Kieren remains outside, just looking at Simon. He hates violence, but is proud of Simon for dealing with the situation with as little fuss as possible.

"Yer were great," he smiles just a little chuffed, "You'd think Gary would have learned his lesson by now?"

Simon shrugs and Kieren cannot help himself. He takes Simon's face is his hand and kisses him hard with slightly intoxicated passion. Neither of them notices Steve watching on from the open door of The Legion.


AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I've been reading a few interviews with the creator Dominic Mitchell recently and a very interesting article on about In The Flesh being the best LGBT series since Russell T. Davis' Queer As Folk. Kieren makes a comment to Amy in Series 1, Episode 2, about playing along with his parents by acting as if he does not have PDS, because he didn't want to upset them. Although PDS is obviously a metaphor in the series and he finally comes out as undead and proud in Series 2, after reading the Free Thought Blog, I felt it was important not to let Kieren's sexuality continue to be treated as a no-go area for his family. Simon is an influential catalyst for Kieren to have the confidence to be who he really is and so it I thought it was fitting he should encourage him in this area as well.

You may have noticed I have included the detail of the CCTV cameras not working over the weekend in the GP's, when Zoe and Brian break in to free the rabids. This was not mentioned in the series, but as there was a large 'CCTV in operation' poster at the reception desk, it made no sense whatsoever why the Parish Council would accuse Kieren and Simon for the act, when they should have had CCTV evidence of Zoe and Brian. Therefore, I concluded it must have not been working that Sunday!

The set design in the series is so well done, I thought I would take advantage of it to get some ideas as to what Jem might like for her birthday. She has lots of different types of skulls scattered around her room, so another seemed be a fitting gift for her brother (and Simon) to get her.

On another note, I'm a big Star Trek fan, so for those of you who share my interest, I've put a little clue in this chapter of what's to come for one of the characters.

If The Rising and subsequent war were real, the idea of Kieren and Jem playing 'Hollywood zombie and victim' would be in rather bad taste, however other than the fact visually I imagined it to be very funny - which is always an important element of In The Flesh to break up the heavy topics and intense scenes – their ability to do this I felt demonstrated the development of all three characters involved. It allows Simon to experience and integrate completely into the Walker family unit, Kieren is relaxed enough with his PDS state now to understand he is not a monster, while Jem finally has the opportunity to act her age and mess around. So although it's dubious as to whether this would be appropriate in their eyes, I felt the rationale was strong enough to keep the scene in.

Finally, the timeline for In The Flesh has been pretty well thought out by the creators, but I decided to make a small change. In the third episode of the first series, which takes place in December, Jem mentions to Kieren that her birthday is in three weeks. I decided to make those three weeks, three months for the purpose of this story – well, she was drinking cider at the time, so maybe she said weeks instead of months by mistake?!