At Bournemouth House:

Abberline *not wanting to go in, sits down on a bench on the porch, lights a new smoke and thinks about his situation.  Godley and the others will be watching him closely after his stupid attempt to end it all ... The only way to survive is to distance them all, not to be attached to anyone, especially not to Raven ... He must cut him out of his life to avoid pain and sorrow ... Raven must find his own way whatever it is ... He tries not to think about Raven at all.  Never more become close to anyone, never more to let anyone down like he did to Victoria.  He sees her beautiful and smiling, as she was before it all went wrong, but then the vision fades and instead of her, his mind gets a vision of a totally strange beautiful woman, she seems to be near Manouche's house but he's not sure, and there is a strong scent of white roses ...*

At Colonel and Hanson’s house:

Colonel *can't quite sleep, wakes up, turns the table lamp on low, looks over her shoulder, Hanson passed out, his head on her pillow, his arm around her waist, she smiles dreamily at him, gets chills knowing they're together, slips from underneath his arm, sits next to him on the bed, gives him a kiss of good length on his cheek*

Hanson *smiles, opens his eyes, looks up at Brittany, glances at the clock, says tiredly*  Whatchya doin’ up?  *places hand on her arm, caresses it*

Colonel *smiles at him*  I love to watch you sleep.

Hanson *smiles*  Can't sleep?

Colonel *sighs*  No.

Hanson:  Aww, my poor baby.  Why don't ya crawl back in here, and I'll hold you extra close and hug you extra tight?

Colonel:  I'd like that, but could I go out for a bit?  Not long.  I feel something is up.

Hanson:  Promise to be back?  I'll give you that extra close, extra tight hug when you get back.  Ok?

Colonel:  Ok.

Hanson:  Kay

Colonel *sad, frustrated, tosses herself back, head on Hanson's arm who is laying on his side, she stares at the dimly lit ceiling*  I'm sorry.

Hanson:  For what?

Colonel *looks over at him, placing her cheek on his arm, and her arm around him, behind his back*  I don't wanna leave, ever.  I just, it feels ...

Hanson:  Like you have to, it's ok.

Colonel *whines*  But it isn't ok.  I SOO want ta just, to just, lay here, with you all day everyday, forever.  I don't wanna go out.  I'll miss you too much.

Hanson *places a hand on her tattoo, that's placed on the middle of her lower tummy (right on that 'low rise bikini' line)*  I'm always with you.

Colonel *gets chills at his touch, feels warm, kisses his shoulder*  I swear I'll make it up to you.

Hanson:  I know.  *kisses her forehead, looks into her eyes*  C'mere.  *Colonel lays on top of him, head resting on his chest, hands resting on his shoulders.  He wraps his arms around her*  I've never loved any other woman the way I love you, nor will I EVER love another woman the way I love you.

Colonel:  But you've loved many women.

Hanson *sighs*  They were, mediocre, barely meant anything to me.  Not like you mean to me.  Not even close.

Colonel:  You almost married one of them.

Hanson:  And now, I'm glad she said no, but even if she did, I'd divorce her for you.

Colonel:  Tommy.

Hanson:  No, I would, but now I don't have to.  Cos I got you and no one else can have ya.

Colonel:  Same goes for you.  *places a kiss on his forehead, he kisses her neck and it tickles her, she twitches, looks him in the eye, kisses him passionately, runs her fingers through his hair, stops, catches her breath, smiles, runs her fingers along his face*

Hanson *moves his head, kisses her hand that was running along his face, looks back at her*  Go ahead and go, the quicker you check things out the quicker you can come back home, get in bed, and be mine all mine.

Colonel *smiles*  Alright.  I'm sorry.

Hanson:  It's good, I'll miss you.

Colonel:  I'll miss you too *gets up, gets dressed, puts on her black cloak*

Hanson:  I love you, baby.

Colonel:  I love you too.  *walks out of the bedroom, out the front door, locking it behind her*

At Bournemouth House:

Colonel *walks until she spots Abberline sitting on a bench, looks at his wrist in a bandage, glances around, makes sure she wasn't seen by any unwanted guests, walks over to Abberline, sounding disgusted*  Let me guess, it wasn't your typical brawl at the tavern, eh Inspector?  Suicide?  *shakes head, kneels down beside him, watches as he puffs away on his cigarette, places a gentle hand on his bandaged wrist, says softly*  Please  *tries to look him straight in the eye, manages to catch his gaze, gives him a gentle look*  Please, Inspector, not this.  Not again.  *holds his hand*  Please.  *knows in the back of her mind, Please gets you nowhere in the real world*

Abberline *draws his hand away*  Why not?  I should have done it a long time ago, but what's happened can't be changed.  I know what you are going to say, and I have heard all that before, of there being alternatives, or that things are going to look better after a while, of there being always hope.  There isn't.  As far as I know, everything just tends to get worse.  *lights a new smoke*   Who's anybody meddling in my life to say what I should do and how I should think …  I am sorry, Colonel, there's nothing you can do for me.  You should go home, I am sure Hanson is worried about you wandering about at night.  *looks at her, not really interested, more to change the subject*  Actually there is something, if I really have to go on, I can't just sit at home doing nothing.  I need my work back.  I hear that you are on good terms with the Commander.  Maybe she could take me back.  And you could talk to her.

Colonel *sighs, says harshly*  Listen, look at me before I slap that smoke right out of your hand.  *he looks at her disgusted*  You don't know what I'm going to say, and frankly, I wasn't going to say all that.  Alternatives, hope, forgetaboutit.  But I will say, you only make things worse because you won't deal with them.  You'd rather, chase the damn dragon then play with your own son, your own flesh and blood, on the beach.  And where is he now?  Fed up with you.  Oh, but that's not Raven, he's just somewhere where he can't be seen, worrying about you.  He knows what you think, what you do.  Maybe things won't look better with time.  Maybe you'll finally catch the dragon, maybe ...  maybe you'll make ends meet … damn.  *looks away, eyes starting to burn, takes in deep breath, lets it out slowly, tears fall, shakes head* All I wanted ... God ... All I wanted, was for you to just be a man.  Your own son, he's 10, Inspector, and he's more a man than you'll ever be.  Can you face that?  You have to be the man, Inspector.  Get back in the game and quit hiding.  *more tears fall, looks him in the eye, doesn't care if he doesn't notices the tears*  There's no getting to you, is there?  There's no breaking point for you, except when for a while, things don't go your way, you try and end it so it doesn't have to, because it won't.  You have to quit being so SELFISH, Inspector!  Selfishness gets you nowhere, but down a dark alley with a high that lasts but 10 minutes!  And you'd rather, go down in that damned tavern, get a high just to see someone who's far gone.  She's gone, Inspector.  Gone for good, and you have survivors around you.  You have people who love you, who are alive, here, now, who have put up with your selfishness.  Doesn't that mean anything to you?  Godley, wow, that man is brave, to take up with you.  Raven, oh bless that boy's heart, he knew everything you've done, choosing a high over him, and he's still been there to try and make ends meet.  But it was you – YOU pushed him away.  Don't blame anything on the boy, it's all your doing.  He did nothing to this house, hell, Godley probably called every name in the book just to get it look nice, for you. So you'll have somewhere to go.  *stops, puts a focus on his job, Portsmith, sighs*  Ok, so you want Portsmith to take you back, eh?  I could, but I dunno … How you can put up with her and not your own son, I'll never know.  But, if you want a job, I'll see to it, only if …  No, never mind.  You won't listen to me.  Once you have the job, if she's willing to take you back, then you'll be gone.  Won't thank me, won't … nothing.  I'm nothing to you.  *shakes head, fed up*  Yea sure, I'll talk to her.  *sighs*

Blake *comes out of house, approaches them a little warily.  He heard what they were saying, but doesn't let on*  Ah, there you are, Inspector.  How are you feeling?  *nods at Colonel*  Colonel, what brings you out here tonight?  Looks like nobody can sleep tonight.  *lights cigarette, offers one to Abberline*

Abberline *to Colonel, seeing her tears averts his eyes, looks at the ground, lights immediately a new cigarette* Things are not always what they seem to be. That's all I can say to you. I don't want to talk about Raven. He's better off without me. *glances quickly at her*  Thanks for the offer to speak to Portsmith. I appreciate it.  *shrugs, to Blake* Did we wake you up? *takes the cigarette*

Blake *shrugs*  No, just happened to wake up.  *smiles*  I guess I’m missin’ Manouche.  *looks back at house*  I guess the only one who can sleep tonight is Godley!  *glances at Colonel, says nothing, gives her a sympathetic look*

Colonel *frustrated, groans, lays on the ground looks up at Blake*  No use.  Why do I bother?  It's no use!  *lays arms outstretched*  All I do, is try and help, and my plan backfires.  Every ... single ... time.  Y'know what, Inspector.  Forget Portsmith, let’s die together if you’re so determined to be done with it.  *rises head, looks at Abberline then Blake*  No, wait, that just sounds like the Edwardo gig, I got a gun, blah blah blah. Never mind, Inspector, you're gonna live, and don't forget Portsmith now, ok.  *plops head back down on the ground*  I'm useless.

Blake *sternly*  For god’s sake, Colonel, if you care at all for Hanson, you won’t talk that way.  What the hell’s the matter with you?  Let it go.  The Inspector has to find his own way.  If you can put in a good word with Commander Portsmith, that’s helping him a great deal.  I suppose going back to work might be as good for him as anything right now.  *looks at Abberline*  Take your mind off things a little, eh Inspector?

Abberline *shrugs again, not really interested*  Maybe.  *reaches out his hand and pulls the Colonel up*  I am sorry if I upset you.

Blake *runs hand through hair*  I apologize, too, Colonel … didn’t mean to be harsh.  Just didn’t want to hear you talkin’ that way, “let’s die together” … can you imagine how that would’ve made Hanson feel?  We don’t need any other people in trouble around here.  There’s a lot to live for.  May not always seem like it, but there is.  *looks at Abberline*  Inspector, you’re lookin' a little pale.  Why don’t you go inside, try to sleep?  I could walk Colonel home.  *to Colonel*  It’s late, not a good idea to be out by yourself.  I’d be happy to take you home.

Abberline:  Yes, I think I'll try to do that.  *gets up, turns to the door*  Maybe you should go to Manouche.  *nods to them both, goes in and upstairs.  Godley is snoring loudly in the guestroom, and he stops at the door for a while to look at him, then he goes to his own bedroom, lies back on the bed, lights yet one more smoke and resumes staring at the ceiling*

Colonel:  No, Blake, no need to apologize.  I should be sorry, saying something so stupid like that.  You were just putting it how it is.  *sighs, the wind blows, she wraps her cloak around her tighter, takes up his offer*  I wouldn't mind if you walked me home, only if you'd like.  If not, I can make it back ok on my own.  Hopefully in one piece.

Blake *watches Abberline go inside, then grins at Colonel*  I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.  C’mon, I’ll drop you off on my way home.  *They walk away, Blake looks back at house one more time, then lights another cigarette.  Looks up at stars*  Nice evening, isn’t it?  *pauses*  I don’t think we have to worry about the Inspector anymore tonight.  I think he’s past the crisis … an’ Sergeant Godley’s there.  I learned something a long time ago, Colonel … you can’t watch everyone all the time.  People are gonna do what they’re gonna do.  We can try to stop ‘em at times, and we can let ‘em know how we feel.  But ultimately, we have to let go.  Even Godley has learned that.  You didn’t fail at anything tonight, you did what you could.  If you think you're useless every time you don't save someone from themselves, you'll make yourself crazy.  This isn't about you, it has nothin' to do with you.  Let it go.  Go home, get some sleep, and be thankful you an’ Hanson have each other.  *smiles*

Colonel *sighs*  Yea, I know, and I still try.  It is a nice evening, away from all the drama.  *stops, almost to the house, looks at Blake*  I'm really sorry about all I said back there.  *continues to walk*  I'm already crazy, I live in Deppville.  *manages a smile and a small laugh*  Yea, home, Hanson said he'd give me an extra close, extra tight hug when I got back.  *they stop in front of the house*  Well, I thank you, William Blake, for walking me home.  *reaches hand out to shake*

Blake *takes her hand, shakes it, leans in, kisses her on the cheek*  You’re welcome.  Go in an’ get that hug.  An’ tell Hanson I said hello.  *releases her hand, stands watching until she’s safely inside and he hears her lock the door.*

On the streets of Deppville:

Blake *stands outside Colonel and Hanson's house, waits awhile to make sure she's in safely.  Lights a cigarette, watches the house, sees a light come on in one part of the house for a brief time, then it’s turned off.  He waits a little longer, finishes cigarette; then, since all seems quiet, he nods, satisfied, and turns to leave.  Almost heads home, but he’s still concerned about Abberline, so he reluctantly heads back toward Bournemouth House.  He’s about halfway there when he rounds a property encircled by a large hedge.  Someone jumps from behind the hedge, grabs him, swiftly wraps a steely arm around his neck, nearly cutting off his breath, drags him off street, out of sight; he feels barrel of a gun pressed against his throat.  A second man approaches, his face cold, emotionless*

Mr. Black:  Good evening, Mr. Blake.  Sorry to interrupt your constitutional, but I have a question or two.  Keep your voice low, answer our questions accordingly, and you’ll greatly reduce my associate’s urge to pull the trigger, understand?  *Blake nods slightly*  If I’m not mistaken, you’re on your way to the home of Inspector Abberline, am I right?

Blake:  So what’s it to you?  *winces as Mr. Brown tightens his hold*  Y-yes, that’s right.

Mr. Black:  Just answers from you, not questions.  We wish for an audience with the Inspector, we need to discuss a little business with him.  How is his health these days?  I understand he was in the hospital for awhile.  Matter of fact, the way I heard it, he should still be there.  Something he volunteered for.  Does he still intend to hold up his part of the bargain?

Blake:  I – I don’t know anything about that.  *pauses, tries to swallow*  H—he … he’s fine, a little … under the weather.

Mr. Black:  Truth is, he’s NOT fine, is he?  He’s a miserable junkie, of no use to anyone, how fine could he possibly be?  *laughs*  Well, that’s a little hasty … he’s of use to a few interested parties.  Ourselves included.

Blake:  I suppose you’re wanting me to take you to him.  *grins wryly*  You’ll notice that wasn’t a question.

Mr. Black *studies him a moment, scowls*  I’d be more careful of what I say if I were you, Mr. Blake.  Your time with that pretty girl of yours may be limited.  Wouldn’t want to waste it recovering from a nasty accident.

Blake *trembling, tries to calm his voice, not show his anger*  K-keep her out of this.  Let’s stick to the Inspector.

Mr. Black:  Very well.  We’ll talk about her another time.  No, we don’t want you to take us to Abberline.  But we would like you to deliver a message to him for us.  That’s not asking so much, is it?

Mr. Brown:  But I thought we were gonna—

Mr. Black *glares at him*  Shut up, you fool.  *looks at Blake*  Just tell him we wish to meet with him.  No tricks, no funny business.  We wish to meet somewhere out in the open, that little restaurant perhaps, Chez Roux.  We merely want to discuss a few things we believe he’ll find interesting.  Tell him it concerns the boy … and perhaps a few of his friends.  Tell him we’ll send word on when this meeting is to take place.  It’ll be very soon, so advise him that he would be wise to steer clear of that den of iniquity in From Hell Court that he likes to call home, at least for the next few days.  Is that clear?  *smirks*  You may ask questions now, if you like.

Blake:  Can I give him your name?

Mr. Black:  No.  It wouldn’t make a difference either way, he doesn’t know us.

Blake:  Wh-what if he refuses to meet with you?

Mr. Black:  He won’t.  And if he crawls off to his little tavern, we’ll find him.  We will have our say, one way or the other.  Just impress upon him that it’ll be a sight less painful if he cooperates.

Blake *pauses, feels his anger rising*  An’ what if I refuse to pass along your message to him?  *He barely flinches as Mr. Brown cocks the pistol under his jaw*

Mr. Black *to Mr. Brown*  Lower the gun.  *Mr. Brown reluctantly lowers the gun, puts it in his coat*  Grab him, hold him up.  *Mr. Brown releases his hold on Blake’s neck, grabs his arms, pins them back.  Mr. Black swiftly swings fist back, brings it forth and punches Blake with all his strength, in the stomach.  Blake groans, goes limp; Mr. Brown lets him drop to the ground, where he lies choking, trying to catch his breath*

Mr. Black *looks at his hand casually*  Hmmm, I’m afraid I may have bruised a knuckle.  Good evening, Mr. Blake.  *He indicates for Mr. Brown to follow him, turns away.  Mr. Brown swings foot back, kicks Blake in the ribs, laughs, then follows Mr. Black down the street, where they get in their car and drive away.*

Blake *hears the car start, pull away.  Finally is able to take a breath, moans at sharp pain in his ribs when he breathes.  Slowly pulls himself up, fights nausea; slowly makes his way back to Bournemouth House, where all is quiet, except for Godley's snoring.  Lets himself in, locks door behind him, makes it as far as the drawing room; drops down in chair, falls unconscious*

At Bournemouth House:

Sergeant Godley *wakes up in the morning when the a ray of sun shines right into his face, and the instant he gets his eyes open jumps from the bed with the horrible realization that he has been sleeping for a long time instead of just taking a short rest while Blake watches over Abberline.  Swearing, he dashes to the master bedroom, only to find Abberline sleeping.  Godley draws a deep breath of relief.  He checks the pulse and touches Abberline's brow that still feels hot, but he seems to be all right.  An empty whisky bottle lies on the floor.  Godley picks it up, adjusts the covers and goes downstairs.  On the way to the kitchen, he notes that for some reason Blake's been sleeping in a chair in the drawing room instead of the study.  He doesn't look very comfortable.*

*Godley goes to the kitchen, puts on coffee and begins to prepare a breakfast with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and toast.  When he's laid the table neatly, he goes to wake up Blake.*  Blake, wake up, time for breakfast!  *when he doesn't immediately wake up, Godley looks at him more carefully and notes that everything isn't in order; he's not sleeping, he's unconscious.*  What the hell is happening here!  Blake, wake up!  *shakes him*

Blake *stirs, mumbles groggily, opens eyes*  M-morning, Sergeant …  *grimaces at pain in his ribs as he sits up*  Oooh … so, it wasn’t a dream.  You’re a lucky man, having slept the night through.  How’s the Inspector?  Last I spoke with him, he seemed well past the crisis.  *pauses, breathing carefully*  Sorry, you’ll have to give me a minute … I had a bad run-in with a couple of men last night who want very much to see him.  Th-they're dangerous … I don't know if ---   *gazes around room, sniffs air appreciatively*  Is there coffee?  Thank god.  *grins up at him*  Sergeant Godley, you’ll make someone a fine wife someday.

Godley *grins at the last remark, then grows serious again*  I guess I was more tired than I realized, to sleep like that.  The Inspector seems to be sleeping peacefully.  He'll get over this, even though I have to say that I don't know what it really was about.  I hope he'll be better when he wakes up.  *pauses, frowns*  Dangerous men?  I don't like the sound of that!  You have to tell me more about them and what they wanted, but we can do that over the coffee.  Oh, and I have a modest breakfast in the kitchen if you want to join me.

Blake *sniffs again*  I think it’s more than modest … I don’t have much of an appetite, but let’s see what you got.  I prob’ly should try to eat something …  *stands up painfully, leaning against chair; hesitates for a moment, then slowly follows Godley toward the dining room*  Ahh, Sergeant, I think I may have a cracked rib …

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Manouche *next morning, after a fitful night with muddled dreams, wakes up on couch in living room, finds Corso is gone, and Blake and Godley still haven’t returned.*  Blast.  *gets up, goes into kitchen to make coffee, but can’t shake an intense worried feeling for Blake.  Decides instead to go straight to Bournemouth House.  Steps outside, looks around cautiously, jumps as she notices at two figures sitting against the wall of the house*  B-blimey, Kat an’ Ichy!  *peers closer at them; they’re propped against the wall, leaning into each other, sound asleep.  She considers waking them up, decides to let them sleep.  Makes her way to Bournemouth House, knocks on door*  Mr. Blake, love, are ye sound?  Sergeant Godley … Inspector?  It’s me, Manouche, let me in …

At Chateau Blanchefort:

Corso *tries to open his private door leading to his study without a noise and slip in as quietly as possible, but is shocked to find Commander Portsmith waiting for him by his desk, leafing very carelessly an ancient manuscript*

Portsmith:  Morning, Dean.  Or is it late night for you?

Corso *nervously*  But you said that there was no hurry.

Portsmith:  And how was Manouche?

Corso *Alarmed*  Wait, I can explain it all to you.  You can always trust me …

Portsmith:  Really?  *takes her tea cup and lets it slip so that tea is spilled over the manuscript.  Picks up the dripping papers, shrugs*  It's still readable, I suppose.  Or shall I put it in the wastepaper basket?

Corso *eyes wide with horror, staring at the destroyed manuscript*  Oh no, I can really explain.  There's - there are vampires in Deppville.  I was just giving some advice, we are all in danger if we let the vampires prowl around ...

Portsmith *icily*  I hope she appreciated your advice.  Had to be very elaborate.  Did you perhaps have a wider audience than one person?

Corso:  Er … yes, of course, there was Blake and …

Portsmith: So, seems you are getting new friends.  Don't let me detain you.  *crumples the manuscript into a ball and wipes the rest of the tea from the desk with it, throws it in the floor and leaves, banging the door, muttering to herself*  Vampires ...

Corso *picks up the manuscript, tries to straighten it, his expression changing from worried to sullen*  Oh yes, Commander, vampires indeed.  You should not underestimate them.  Soon our roles will be reversed and you'll be serving me, for an eternity ...

At Bournemouth House:

Godley:  We'd better do something about that, it looks bad.  Maybe I should take you to the hospital and hope that the Inspector doesn't wake up in the meantime.  *pours him coffee, puts a full plate in front of him*  Just something small, but I hope it will do.  Nothing as magnificent as the breakfasts at the factory ...  *pauses, hearing a knock*  Someone's at the door.  *leaves the dining room, opens the door* Manouche!  Good to see you.  You came just in time for breakfast, Blake has just begun.  *leads her to the dining-room, pours her a mug of coffee*  Care for breakfast?  It's always best to eat first and then tackle the problems.  Blake here got in the way of a couple of guys ...

Manouche:  Bloody ‘ell, I knew somethin’ wasn’t right.  *takes coffee, smiles at Godley*  Cheers, mate, ye’ve done a fine job of it, from th’ looks o’ things.  I – I can take Mr. Blake t’ hospital, if need be.  Ye can stay ‘ere with th’ Inspector.  *rushes to Blake, who’s staring wide-eyed at the enormous amount of food in front of him.  Sets her coffee on table, crouches down next to Blake’s chair, gently puts arms around him*  What ‘appened, love, who hurt ye?

Blake *kisses her, puts an arm around her*  I don’t know who they are, never seen ‘em before that I can remember.  Two guys, kinda big, very tough … well, to me, anyway, not that I’m all that tough.  *looks up at Godley*  They had me at gunpoint … they wanted me to give a message to the Inspector, they want to meet with him at Chez Roux sometime soon … to talk, they said.  Said it concerns the boy, I figured they meant Raven … *looks at Manouche, worried*  They know you, too, honey, they said they’d talk about you later.

Manouche:  Oh, blimey … could they be from th’ Order?  *looks at Godley*  But … what would they want with th’ Inspector, or with Raven, fer that matter?

Godley:  Maybe the same guys who tried to hit him with the car and broke into the house.  You suspect they are from the Order?  But what would they have to do with the Inspector?  Or even more with Raven ...  I don't think he should go to any meeting with that kind of guys.  *to Manouche*  The Inspector's sleeping, he's as sound as he can be at the moment.  I bet he'll have a nasty hangover when he wakes up.  Or should I wake him?  Any news of Raven?  *to Blake*  The hospital can wait.  You have to eat something first.  Is that not enough?  There is more.

Blake *laughs*  No, that’s plenty, Sergeant … thanks, it looks great.  *takes bite of eggs, raises eyebrows approvingly; though he’s not very hungry, he finds they’re delicious*  Thing is, these guys said they won’t take no for an answer.  They said one way or another, they’re gonna talk to him.  They … they were threatening, like they’ll make things harder on him if he doesn’t agree to meet ‘em.  *shrugs, grabs piece of toast*  I agree, it’d be best to have nothin’ to do with ‘em.  But if they’re meeting in a public place like Chez Roux, it’s probably safe enough.  We could keep an eye on the meeting, in case something happens we could step in.

Manouche *sighs; to Godley*  Don't wake ‘im if he’s sleepin’.  I’m sure he needs it.  *drinks coffee*  So was th’ vision right?  Was he … was he tryin’ t’ kill himself?  *shakes head*  Blimey, I wish I knew where Raven is.  I know th’ Inspector has problems, but what would drive ‘im to that, y’ reckon?

Blake *buttering toast, thinks of the journal entries he read; decides to keep it to himself for the moment*

Godley:  Yes, we can't let him go alone to such a meeting.  You really can't see where Raven is and why he disappeared?  *to Manouche*  Yes, you were right about your vision.  The only thing I got out of him, was that he said that Raven knows.  Don't know what that would be about.  Maybe some problem with Raven.  *Shakes head*  He's had quite a lot of trouble lately, but I still can' t see what would so suddenly drive him to such a desperate measure.  *looks at Manouche*  I am very concerned about him, but I don't know what to do.  He needs a woman, someone who could make him forget the past, someone like you ...

Blake *grins*  He’d be a lucky man, if he could find another one like my girl.  *smiles lovingly at Manouche*

Manouche *blushes slightly*  G'wan, th’ pair o’ ye are daft!  *to Godley*  I’ve always thought it’d do th’ Inspector a world o’ good if he could find someone t’ be with ‘im.  But I don’t know if he’ll ever get over his wife.  He’ll never be able t’ make somethin’ work with someone else if she’s overshadowin’, savvy?  Th’ poor man, me heart goes out t’ him, to be sure.  *pauses*  I keep tryin’ t’ key into lil’ mate, but he’s learned his lessons well, th’ lil’ blighter.  He’s holdin’ me at bay, as it were.  I can figure that he’s at sea, an’ that he’s relatively safe an’ takin’ care of ‘imself … but that’s as far as I get.  *looks at Godley again*  He said ‘Raven knows’?  Knows what, I wonder?  It obviously ain't somethin' bad enough to 'ave made Raven stop carin' about his dad, or he wouldn't 'ave bothered t' contact me when he knew he were in trouble.  *frowns, puzzled*  Can either o’ ye remember anythin’ else th' Inspector said or did when ye got ‘ere last night?

Godley *smiles at them both*  You are a lucky man, Blake.  *frowns*  Is he going to mourn her for the rest of his life?  It can't be right ...  *thinks for a while*  He said that Raven knows there is no hope for him.  There must have been something passing between them to make Raven run away and the Inspector to slice his wrist.  He just said he didn't want to talk, and that he couldn't tell.  

Abberline *wakes up and hears the voices downstairs, to himself*  Oh no, it's Manouche ...  *decides not to try to get up and go downstairs*

Manouche *smiles*  Well, Sergeant, if th' Inspector can’t ‘ave a woman in his life, he’s bloody fortunate to ‘ave yer friendship.  I hope he realizes that, an’ never takes ye fer granted.  *frowns, thinking*  Them circumstances are strange, t’ be sure.  I reckon th’ best thing I can do at this point is keep tryin’ to contact Raven, get ‘im to talk t’ me.  *looks over at Blake, concerned*  Blimey, love, yer all in.  We’d best be gettin’ ye t’ hospital, ‘ave ye checked out.

Blake *wearily*  I don’t know that the hospital's necessary … but I’d sure like to get home.  *slowly stands up, takes one last drink of coffee, looks at near-empty plate, then up at Godley*  Sergeant, much obliged for the breakfast, everything was great.  I hope you can stay with the Inspector for a little while.  I think he’s okay, but he probably shouldn’t be left alone unless absolutely necessary.

Manouche *walks over to Godley, hugs him*  Sergeant Godley, yer Deppville’s unsung hero.  I’m glad we ‘ave ye, mate.  Take care o’ th’ Inspector.  Don’t be tellin’ him about this meetin’ with them thugs jus’ yet.  He needs to recover proper, it can wait one more day.  Tell him we’ll check back with him either later tonight, or tomorrow.  *she pauses, suddenly senses that Abberline is awake upstairs; grins*  I'm sure he won’t want t’ hear of anyone fussin’ over him, but that’s what I do, innit?  Part an’ parcel o’ bein’ cared about.  *looks at Godley carefully*  Take care o’ yerself, while yer at it, luv.  Sorry yer dinner were interrupted last night ... accept me rain-check.  Savvy?

At Deppville Hospital:

Manouche *opens hospital door, helps Blake in, arm around his waist*  Easy, love …

Blake:  It’s okay, honey, it’s not that bad, I can walk.

Manouche:  Bollocks, ye may ‘ave a broken rib, y’ need to take it easy.  If I ever get me hands on them bastards …

Blake:  You stay away from them, I don’t want you messin’ with ‘em.

Manouche:  Well … *they approach reception desk, she speaks to receptionist*  We’d like t’ see a doctor as soon as possible, luv.  We think he may ‘ave a broken rib.

Blake *shakes head, looks at receptionist*  It may just be cracked.

Receptionist:  Someone’ll be with you soon, have a seat.

Manouche *helps Blake sit down, sits next to him, takes his hand*  I don’t think we should be apart any more’n necessary for awhile …

Blake *squeezes her hand*  I think you’re right.  But I’m glad you weren’t there last night.  I don’t like anything about those guys, an’ I don’t like the fact that they know you.

Manouche:  What’d they say about me?

Blake *trying to remember*  Well … I said somethin’ to make ‘em mad, an’ the one came back with how I should be careful, my time with you may be limited.

Manouche:  Did they say me name?

Blake:  No, they said ‘that pretty girl’ …

Manouche *smiles*  Ahh, well, then per’aps they was talkin’ about someone else!

Blake *grabs scarf around her neck, pulls her close*  C’mere, nutter.  *kisses her*

Sebastian *racing by at brisk pace, sees them, exclaims*  Dr. Rainey!  It’s nice to see you again!  *steps up to them, grabs Manouche’s hand, starts shaking it vigorously*

Manouche *stares at him blankly, then remembers*  Oh, aye!  Sebastian, innit?  How ye been farin’, mate?  Ah, that is … how’s everything been around here?

Sebastian:  Just fine, ma’am.  That Commander Portsmith really impresses me, with how much she cares about her staff.  You should’ve heard her in here a few weeks ago, asking after Inspector Abberline.  She was as upset as if he were her own flesh and blood.  Wonderful woman.

Manouche *exchanges glance with Blake, looks back at Sebastian*  Ahh, yes, I s’pose she is.  Jus’ what did she say, d’ ye recall?

Sebastian:  Well, she was very concerned that he had been released and allowed to take his medical records with him.  I assured her that the blood tests showed such a remarkable recovery from the detox, that you felt it seemed absurd to detain him further.  *shakes head in wonder*  I still can’t believe it … such a fast regeneration …

Manouche:  I see.  *clears throat*  Well, cheers—ah, very well, Sebastian, I appreciate yer input, as always.

Sebastian:  My pleasure, doctor.  *looks at Blake*  Is this your husband?

Manouche *smiles*  Matter o’ fact, he is.

Sebastian *reaches out to shake hands with Blake*  It’s a pleasure, Mr. Rainey.

Blake *raises eyebrows, shakes his hand*  Ahh … likewise.  *looks at Manouche, who stifles a laugh*

Sebastian:  Well, I better get back to work.  I suppose you’re still in consultation with Commander Portsmith on a regular basis regarding Mr. Abberline’s condition.  Please give her my regards, and tell her I think she’s doing a wonderful job.  We need more caring, conscientious people like her in the higher offices.  *smiles, turns, walks away.  Manouche and Blake nod, wave at him as he goes to the elevators, steps in one of them*

Receptionist:  Dr. Rainey will see you now, Mr. Blake.

Sebastian *inside elevator, smiling at Manouche, hears the receptionist; smile fades, replaced by puzzled frown as doors close*

Blake *stands up*  Dr. Rainey!  I think I better go in alone, don’t you agree?

Manouche *eyes wide*  I reckon I do, love.  Please be careful.  *kisses him, watches him go, sits waiting, fidgeting, picking up magazines, not really reading them.*  Blimey, th’ Commander’s made th’ cover of “Pomp an’ Circumstance” again … 

*Finally, almost an hour later, Blake returns, still walking carefully.  She stands up, rushes to his side*  So what’d ‘e say?

Blake:  Cracked rib, like I figured.  There’s nothing they can do for it, it’ll just have to heal on its own.

Manouche *arm around him*  Right, then let’s get ye home, so y’ can rest.

Blake *suddenly very tired*  I won’t argue with you, I’m beat.  It was a long night.  *They walk outside, slowly head for home, saying little.* 

At Manouche and Blake's house:

*Manouche and Blake arrive at the house; Manouche notices that Kat and Ichy are gone, says nothing of it to Blake.  They go inside, lock door behind them, and she makes Blake as comfortable as possible on the couch in the living room*

Manouche *disapproving*  Y’ should be in bed.

Blake:  I’d rather be out here for now.  I don’t want to be in bed all alone …  *looks at her lovingly, reaches out, takes her hand*

Manouche *laughs, sits down on edge of couch, next to him*  Ye ‘ave a cracked rib, love!  Y’ mustn’t aggravate it, though what ye ‘ave in mind ain’t aggravatin’ in th’ least, not by a long shot.  *leans down, kisses him, long and lingering; pulls away, gazes at him*  Where d’ ye get th’ stamina, after bein’ up all night, keepin’ watch over th’ Inspector, then gettin’ in a scuffle with some bastards?

Blake *shrugs*  Poet.  *Manouche laughs, kisses him again.  They gaze into each other’s eyes for a few minutes, Blake reaches hand up, gently caresses her face.  He speaks again, his voice very quiet*  Honey … I didn’t want to say anything about this at the Inspector’s house, ‘cause I didn’t want him to overhear.  I do want to tell Sergeant Godley, though … we’ll have to fill him in later.

Manouche:  Fill ‘im in?  On what, love?

Blake:  I know why the Inspector did what he did.  I know … I know what he says Raven knows.

At Bournemouth House:

Godley *takes a tray, puts a coffee mug and some toast on it and goes upstairs to see if Abberline' s already awake, finds him lying on the bed, smoking.*  Morning, Inspector, I brought you some breakfast.  Time to get up.

Abberline:  I'm not getting up today, Godley, and I can't take any breakfast.

Godley *sighs*  If I had your favourite cocktail of laudanum and absinthe, you'd feel like having breakfast.

Abberline:  I don't need anything.  That was Manouche I heard.  What was Manouche doing here?  Has she found Raven?

Godley *sits down in a chair*  No, Inspector.  Raven has not been found.  Do you want me to get out, is that it?  Am I bothering you?  I'll be most obliged to leave if you want me to go.

Abberline:  No, Godley.  It was the luckiest day in my life when I met you.

Godley *worried*  You are definitely unwell.  *decides not to take up the meeting yet*  Try to eat something anyway, I am going to clean up the kitchen.

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Manouche *sobbing, in Blake’s arms*

Blake:  Shhh, honey … I’m sorry …

Manouche *sniffs*  It don’t require apology, love … it’s jus’ so bloody sad … th’ Inspector’s wrong, he’s dead wrong.  How can an educated man believe such nonsense?

Blake:  That’s exactly why he believes it.  That’s cold hard science talkin’, it’s not taking anything else into account.  Combine that with his background, an’ disillusionment … it’s not so surprising.  *holds her close, strokes her hair*

Manouche:  We got t’ do somethin’ to set it right.  I … I know I weren’t goin’ to get involved again … I even went so far as t’ promise th’ Inspector as much … but I can’t ignore all this, there mus’ be somethin’ we can do.  He can end up hatin’ me when all’s said an’ done, I don’t care.

Blake *pulls her back, looks into her eyes, smiles*  You’re gonna drive him crazy!

Manouche *grins*  Can’t help it, love.  Y’know how I feel ‘bout lil’ mate … an’ I’ve grown very fond o’ th’ Inspector.  I think he needs people to care about ‘im …

Blake:  Sorta, “he’ll thank me later,” isn’t it?  *grins, gently wipes a tear from her face*

Manouche:  I reckon it is.  Or maybe he won’t thank me … I don’t care.  I got t’ do somethin’.  *pauses, looks at him*  If I need t’ leave fer a bit, ye’ll understand, won’t ye?

Blake *nods, without hesitation*  Of course I will, honey.  The worst was the times you would go missin’ without telling me.  I – I hope I can come with you wherever you need to go … once I’m recovered from this.

Manouche:  I’ll try an’ wait.  I’d rather ‘ave y’ with me.  *kisses him, stands up*  I’m goin’ to make some coffee.

Blake *laughs*  Well, you don’t have to tell me when you’re goin’ to the kitchen!  *reaches out, squeezes her hand*

Manouche *smiles, turns, goes to kitchen, gets coffee started.  Steps out onto patio while it’s brewing, looks out at the river.  Closes eyes, starts to concentrate, this time thinking of Abberline*  Inspector … it’s me, Manouche … never tried this with ye, mate, don't know if y' can hear me … no worries, savvy?  We’ll get it sorted.  Stay put, let Godley tend t’ ye … an’ please try not to do anything … stupid …

At Bournemouth House:

Godley:  I will be downstairs if you need me.  Do you need anything?

Abberline:  Nothing.  *watches Godley go out of the door, hears him descend the stairs, finds his laudanum bottle together with some brandy in a drawer, drops at least ten drops directly into the bottle, doubling his usual dose, drinks and lies back to wait for the soothing effect to set in when he suddenly feels a sharp pain in his head.*  no worries...savvy?  *It's Manouche's voice, and he sees her in her kitchen, groans and drinks fast the rest of the brandy.  No worries?  She doesn't know a thing, and he shuts her out of his mind.  He looks disgusted at the bandage on his wrist.  How could he be so stupid?  Why did he not think of his gun yesterday?*

At Manouche and Blake’s house:

Manouche *pouring coffee for herself and Blake, quickly sets pot down, grips counter as she feels a searing pain in her head*  BLAST …  *can’t quite make it out, but it’s Abberline, and the overall vision is very dark, nothing but darkness*  Ooh, by th’ powers …  *breathes heavily as the pain and blurry vision recede, slowly straightens up.  Takes coffee in to Blake, sets on table in front of couch, sits down next to him*  Love, I ‘ave to go now.  There’s somethin’ wrong with th’ Inspector, I felt it.  I ‘ave an idea … I need t’ go to Bournemouth House, an’ I also need t’ go see Malachi.  *gazes at him*  I wish y’ could go with me.

Blake *looks at her regretfully*  I’m sorry, honey … you’re right, I don’t think I can just now.  I know you have to do what you feel you have to do … I don’t like this, you goin’ out alone, but I understand.  Please be careful, I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you …

Manouche *leans in, kisses him passionately*  I’ll hurry, love, I promise … an’ I’ll stick to th’ busy streets.  Per’aps Sergeant Godley can accompany me t’ From Hell Court.  Yer not in too much pain, are ye?  Can I bring ye anything?

Blake:  No, it’s not too bad, long as I don’t move too much.  *smiles slightly*  Just bring yourself back safe an’ sound, that’s all I need.  *pulls her close, kisses her*

Manouche *reluctantly breaks the embrace, stands, sways a little unsteadily*  Blimey, if yer tryin’ t’ break down me resolve, yer well on yer way!  I love ye, Mr. William Blake.

Blake:  An’ I love you, Mrs. Blake.  *grins*

At Bournemouth House:

Manouche *leaves the house, locks door behind her, makes her way cautiously to Bournemouth House, knocks on door.*  Sergeant Godley?  Y’ still ‘ere, mate?  It’s Manouche, please let me in.

Godley *opens the door with a towel in his hand*  Come in.  You came to see the Inspector?  He doesn't seem to be in a much better mood today.  *looks at her with sympathy*  He doesn't want to see anybody.

Manouche:  Aye … I reckon I knew that.  I’d like t’ try, anyway.  If he don’t want t’ talk, I’ll leave him in peace.  *goes up stairs, comes to Abberline’s room, taps on door*  Inspector, ye awake?  It’s me, Manouche.  Can we talk a bit?  I ...  *stops, thinks for a minute, deciding what to say*  We, ahhh … we ‘ave some trouble, we may need yer help, if yer of a mind.  Some men hurt Mr. Blake … thought per’aps ye could investigate, once yer feelin' up to par, as it were.  Oh ... an' I've heard from Raven, he's sound.  *waits anxiously for Abberline to respond*

Abberline *looking after his gun, hearing Manouche, first decides to pretend he's asleep, then thinks better of it, sighs, opens the door and slumps back to the bed*  What is it you want with me?  There's nothing I can do.  And Raven is on his own now ...  I can't do anything for him, either.  You are only making things worse.  *lights a smoke, looks at Manouche accusingly*  You tried to invade my mind.

Manouche *sits down next to bed*  Apologies, luv, I meant no harm.  An’ if ye’d rather not take on any sort o’ case at this particular juncture, I understand.  *pauses, swallows*  I didn’t mean t’ invade yer privacy, Inspector … but … thing is, I know why ye did what y’ did, savvy?  I … I know what y’ wrote in yer journal.  I won’t tell another soul about it, I swear.  I know it was yer personal thoughts an’ speculations.  But it ain’t true, mate … it don’t have t’ be like that, don’t ye see?  Raven seems t’ be on his own, that much is so.  He’s grown up faster than any child I’ve seen, fer better or worse.  An’ now, in as little as I can see an’ sense, he appears to ‘ave chosen a life at sea, at least fer time bein’.  But it were him who knew what ye were goin’ through, an’ it were him who asked us t’ intervene.  *grins slightly*  An’ he gave me a hell of a headache t’ let me know in a hurry.  *rubs head, turns to Abberline, puts hand on his arm*  He still loves ye, Inspector, an' he'll be back.  He's a fine, extraordinary boy.  Ain’t that somethin’ ye’d care to work with?

Abberline *listens reluctantly, then his mouth drops open, and finally he looks at Manouche with narrowed eyes*  You don't want to invade my privacy and yet you read my private journal.  How the hell did you get it?  You think I am completely daft, do you?  *furious, sits up in bed and brushes her hand away, but his reaction is still somewhat subdued by the laudanum beginning to function*  You think I am just a junkie with a brain damage, or what?  Not capable of rational thinking?  *continues  in a calmer, dead voice*  What you call my personal speculations is the simple scientific fact, Manouche, it is the truth and there is no idle speculation.  I have witnessed it myself at my work many times, but I am sure my explanations would be wasted on you.  You just don't know, Manouche.  You just don't understand, do you?  I am right.  *trying to hurt her, to make her go away*  And Raven proves it by becoming a – a bloody pirate.  Damn Fiji.  Damn Kat.  *exhausted by his outburst, inhales smoke and looks straight at Manouche*

Manouche *eyes fill with tears, trembling*  B-blimey, Inspector, I don’t think yer daft at all, jus’ a bit muddled in yer thinkin’ about a few things, is all.  When ‘ave I ever given ye reason t’ believe I’m anythin’ other than yer friend?  *hurting from his words, tears fall*  Go ahead, hate me if y’ must.  But why d’ ye doubt yer senses more than yer bloody science?  If no one looked past science through th’ ages, we’d never ‘ave inventions or discoveries, would we?  Everything would stop with “that’s impossible,” wouldn’t it?  *pauses, wipes eyes*  D-did ye not hear anythin’ else I said?  Or do ye choose t’ ignore it?  Are ye goin’ to stop lovin’ yer boy, stop carin’ about ‘im, because of a lotta bollocks, or because he’s chosen t’ become a pirate?  There are many reasons fer turnin’ pirate, mate, an’ th’ reasons are surprisin’ly similar to reasons fer joinin’ law enforcement … some turn to it ‘cause they genuinely believe in it.  Some ‘cause they’re troubled, some ‘cause they don’t know no other way … some ‘cause they’re opportunistic, like Malachi … some ‘cause they – they lost everythin’ an’ feel sure they ‘ave nothin’ more to lose.  *lowers head, blinks back tears, steadies voice*  Then there’s others that join ‘cause they’re natural born bullies, an’ cruel … an’ they see this as a way to flex their muscle, so to speak.  Much like th’ bad cop who’s all too ready with th’ weapon, in th’ name o’ law an’ order.  *looks at him, mustering up some dignity*  Turnin’ pirate don’t instantly mean th’ person’s of no worth, Inspector.  Scallywag I may be … but I ‘ave th’ love an’ respect of a fine man, I ‘ave good friends, of which I've considered you one … an’ I know a scientific theory proven wrong when I see it.  Now y’ can lie here an’ damn everythin’ good an’ bad that has brought ye to this particular place in yer life, an’ then y’ can end yer life when yer finished cursin’ it all.  Or ye can be a man, take hold an’ turn it all around.  If ye keep reachin’ for the moon’s reflection in th’ river instead o’ the moon itself, Inspector, all that’s likely to ‘appen is, ye’ll drown tryin’ to catch hold of it.  *reaches in coat, pulls out cigarettes, lights one*  I ‘ave a coupla more things t’ tell ye, then I’ll leave ye to do as ye wish.  Last night, as he was runnin’ about in th’ dark tryin’ to help you, Mr. Blake were attacked by two men.  It’s me feelin’ that they’re from th’ Order.  They gave Mr. Blake a message t’ pass on to you.  Th' bastards injured him, he’s recoverin’ at home, that's why he ain't 'ere with me now … so I’ll give ye the message in his place.  They want t’ talk to ye, why I ‘ave no idea.  They said they want t’ meet ye in a public place, jus’ chat, apparently.  They also said if ye refuse, they’ll find ye anyway, so I reckon y’ can hide from ‘em fer only so long.  The other thing I ‘ave to tell ye is this … I’m on me way t’ see Malachi right now, an’ discuss this Order business with him.  We can’t ‘ave this goin’ on because of us.  It's one thing when it’s primarily Malachi an’ me who’s in danger from ‘em.  But when they start in on me Mr. Blake … an’ you … I reckon it’s time we do somethin’ about ‘em.  It’s between us an’ them, an’ if we can make a deal with ‘em … per’aps they’ll leave th’ rest of ye alone.  *runs hand through hair, finishes cigarette, stands up*  I broke me promise t’ ye, to not meddle anymore in yer business, an’ I apologize.  I won't say it won't 'appen again, 'cause it seems t' be out o' me control, savvy?  Can't help it ... I hear a mate's in trouble, an' I act on it without thinkin' first.  But I swear I'll do me best t' leave ye to it from now on.  *pauses, glances at the door, then looks back at him*  One suggestion, mate ...  Whenever ye decide t’ check out, be it razor, or … *looks past him, where his gun is concealed*  … well, whatever th’ method ... y’ might want to consider goin’ off somewhere very private.  Don’t leave th’ mess fer Sergeant Godley to discover an’ then ‘ave to deal with, on top o' the grievin' he'll be doin' over ye.  He deserves far better than that.  *looks at him, eyes filled with sorrow.  Leans down, hugs him, kisses his cheek, whispers*  A-au revoir, mon ami ennuyé.  *stands up, turns, leaves room quickly*

Abberline *stunned, touches his cheek where Manouche kissed him, gets up so fast that he's near to faint, staggers but nevertheless manages to follow her, catches her in the corridor and blocks her way*  Manouche, please, come back – come back and … *draws breath, looks at her imploringly* … help me, Manouche …  *moves aside to let her go and leans against the wall* 

Manouche *reaches to him, catches him as he starts to drop*  Inspector, y’ shouldn’t be out o’ bed, yer still weak … *helps him sink slowly to floor, holds him, speaks softly*  Steady, luv, y’know I’ll do anythin’ I can t’ help, if ye want me help …  *calls out*  Sergeant, some assist, please! 

Godley *rushing out of the kitchen, still with a towel in his hand, takes in quickly the scene*  It's all right, Inspector, I'll help you back to bed, you shouldn't have been up yet.  *lifts him easily up and helps him back to bed, pats him on the shoulder, looks at them both*  I have to load the dishwasher.  *to Manouche, softly*  I heard you, Manouche.  How did you manage to break his guards finally down?  Thank you.  *Pats her too on the shoulder, leaves the room*

Abberline:  Forgive me, Manouche ... I've been nothing but trouble to you …  Please don't leave me. *closes his eyes, not daring to look at her*
  

Manouche:  Think nothin’ of it, Sergeant …  *comes over to chair next to bed, takes Abberline’s hand in hers, looks at him anxiously*  Blimey, mate, y’ gave us quite a scare!  I won’t leave ye, I’m here.  *brushes hair back off his face*  Yer still a bit warm, y’ best keep covered up.  *brings covers up around him*  Nothin’ to forgive, luv … I been a bit o’ trouble t’ you, as well, haven’t I?  *smiles*  No worries, we’ll sort it all out somehow.  Y’ don’t ‘ave to say another word fer now … jus' rest.  I’ll stay right ‘ere.  *rubs his hand gently in both of hers, tears in her eyes*

Abberline:  There's so much to sort out ...  I can't do it.  I never could.  I am sorry about the journal, I am so sorry that Raven read it ...  As you know ... what there was ...  I can only imagine how he felt about it.  I should have burned it.  *looks somewhere behind Manouche*  And she would still be alive without me ...  What I did to her is unforgivable.  Manouche, I miss her still.  I never talked about her with anyone, not even Godley ...

Manouche:  Y’ sort things out by takin’ ‘em one at a time, luv.  Y’ can tell me as little or as much as ye feel comfortable sayin’, mate, it won’t go no farther than this room.  I know ye miss ‘er … I know how it is t’ miss someone.  I miss me brother every day, an’ I know I will every day till I die.  *pauses, squeezes his hand*  Very little in this world is unforgivable, as I see it … especially when it’s done with th’ best of intentions an’ a full heart.  S’called bein’ human, we make mistakes.  D' ye know, fer years I blamed meself fer me brother's death?  An' I had nothin' to do with it.  But I felt guilty, I kept wishin' I could turn time back an' have them bastards catch me, an' me brother be th' one who escaped.  *lowers eyes for a moment, then goes on*  What if th’ tables were turned?  Ye’d fergive yer wife, wouldn’t ye?  I’m sure she forgives ye … y’know Raven knows everythin’, an’ he forgives ye.  Sergeant Godley knows th’ basics, an’ he forgives ye.  Truth be told, as is usually th’ case with us human bein's, yer th’ only one who can’t fergive yerself.  Yer surrounded with people who see th’ good in ye, Fred Abberline.  Give ‘em a listen.  *smiles slightly, looks down at his hand in hers*  As fer th’ journal … it were a lot fer lil’ mate t’ read, that’s true.  But consider this:  When ye was in trouble, he knew, an’ th’ first thing he did was to try an’ help ye, even though he were far away.  He’s hurtin’, an’ it’s unfortunate that he read all that … but he ain’t turned his back on ye because of it.  He’s run off to lick his wounds, is all.  What’s done is done, innit?  But there are things that can be salvaged.  Just takes a bit o’ patience, an’ th’ will to try.  If y' can't do that, so be it.  But if y' can ... well, that's a beautiful boy y' have, mate.  An' there's still a lot in life t' be enjoyed, if ye can get past th' darkness an' see it.  *reaches over to bedside table, pours two small shots of brandy from bottle into glasses left from earlier, just a swallow each; takes one glass, hands the other to him*  'Ere, luv, don't want ye to overdo, but a shot'll prob'ly settle ye a bit.

Abberline:  Thanks.  *accepts the glass*  I know that Blake needs you more than I do, but stay a little while with me ...  *holds her hands*  Don’t go yet ...  I am so tired, I just want to sleep.  Will Raven be back?  After all he read, he might not want to come back to me ...

Manouche:  I can stay a bit, mate.  Mr. Blake knows I were comin' here, he'll understand.  He's at home restin', won't be needin' me for awhile.  *pauses*  Jus' be patient about lil' mate ... he'll come back.  Sometimes I jus' know these things, an' I know he loves his dad.  Th' fact that he were worried about ye tells me he'll be back.  Ye 'ave to give him time t' absorb everythin', savvy?  'Ave some faith in him, he's never turned away from you yet.  *sets glasses on table, adjusts covers around him again, smiles*  Keep covered up, luv ... settle back an' try an' get some sleep.  I'll stay right 'ere.  *holds his hands reassuringly*

Abberline:  Do you really think I could be wrong?  It was my fault that he ran off ... if things would have been better, he would have asked me, talked to me.  He didn't dare to talk to me ...  I am sorry that I have caused him so much trouble, and you ... and now Blake got battered up ... I have to get up, I have to find those men …

Manouche *hands on his shoulders, gently but firmly pushes him back*  Y’ain’t goin’ anywhere right now, Inspector, not with that fever.  Y’ need yer rest.  Raven’ll talk to ye, I’m sure he will.  Think how he felt, though … first, he broke into yer house, then somehow he knew where t’ find yer journal.  There he was, readin’ somethin’ he shouldn’t ‘ave been readin’ without permission, jus’ after comin’ into yer house without yer knowin’.  On top o' all that, he's just read somethin’ shocking, an’ then got caught at it.  Grown up though he may be, he’s still jus’ a boy.  His first impulse was to run, savvy?  S’like th’ kid who breaks a window with a baseball.  If he’s a good kid, eventually he owns up to it.  But first he runs.  *grins*  No worries, like I said, luv, give ‘im time.  I know he’ll come back, an’ th’ pair o’ ye can ‘ave a good talk.  As fer them men … *face dark, looks past Abberline*  … I’ll take care o’ them.  They may want t’ talk to ye, an’ they prob’ly will make it ‘appen.  It's bad enough that they may be a threat t’ ye, one o’ me mates … but now they’ve crossed th’ bloody line.  They messed with me Mr. Blake … they’ll be answerin’ to me fer that little transgression, as it were.

Abberline:  You are right, I am of no use now.  You have to promise that you won't do anything alone, take me with you.  I can handle them.  But I can't handle Raven.  You must help me with him, I don't know how to talk to him.  How many disappointments can he take from me?  *rests for a while eyes shut*  Manouche, I am cold ... and tired ...

Manouche *thinks for a moment*  Matter o’ fact, there jus’ may be a way y’ can help with what I ‘ave in mind.  Fer starters, it’d be helpful if ye meet with them bastards, an’ I can observe from a hidin’ place, so I can see what they look like.  Right now, I wouldn’t know ‘em if I saw ‘em, an’ that puts them at a distinct advantage.  Rest easy, there’s still some time.  An’ y’know I’ll help with Raven … he an’ I communicate very well.  Granted, here lately, he’s been hidin’ even from me, but that’s to be expected, with all he’s been through.  But I’ll keep tryin’, we’ll get ‘im squared away.  *looks at Abberline, concerned, pulls covers up around him again.*  First things first, luv, y’ got to get feelin’ better.  We need t’ get yer fever down.  *places hand to his forehead, brushes hair back from his face*  Reckon I should get th’ Sergeant t’ bring some aspirin.  We don’t want to ‘ave ye back in hospital … especially with whatever th’ Commander had in mind fer ye.  *smiles*  Y’ want to be on th’ mend, mate … yer needed for important matters, concernin’ them men, an’ havin’ a good, long talk with yer son.

Abberline:  I will meet them.  *smiles*  Talking to them is actually a less frightening prospect than talking to Raven ...  *concerned*  I won't go back to the hospital ...  *shuts eyes*  I don't need anything ...  *after a while he's again asleep*

Manouche *watches Abberline sleep for a few minutes, then hears a soft tapping at the bedroom door.  Looks up, smiles as door swings open*  Mr. Blake!  *smile fades, looks at him disapprovingly*  What’re ye doin’ up, love, y’ should be restin’.

Blake *speaking very softly to keep from waking Abberline*  I know … but I got feeling a little better an’ decided to come find you.  *walks in slowly, Manouche jumps up, brings him to chair where she was sitting, brings another one from across the room.  Moves it close to his, he takes her hand*  Sergeant Godley let me in.  *grins*  I think he’s decided to become the Inspector’s servant … he’s down there cleaning all the silverware!  *looks at Abberline*  How is he?

Manouche:  He ‘as a fever, s’got me a little worried, but other’n that, I think he’ll be sound.  I reckon he needs some good sleep more’n anything.  I were thinkin’ once I leave ‘ere to go see Malachi, I might ask ‘im if he has anythin’ that might reduce th’ fever.  Wouldn’t do t’ have th' Inspector return to th’ hospital.

Blake *nods*  How’s he feeling besides that?

Manouche *sighs*  Hard t’ say.  We had a fine talk, but … feelin’s like what he experienced don’t go away jus’ like that, savvy?  He carries a lot o’ pain … *looks at him sympathetically*

Blake *watches her, smiles*  I bet if you’d grown up in a normal household, you would’ve been the kid bringing home stray dogs an’ cats all the time.

Manouche *grins*  Y’ callin’ me softheaded, love?

Blake *shakes head*  No, honey ... softhearted.  *pulls her to him, kisses her*  Well, what would you like me to do?  Shall I go see Malachi, get somethin’ for his fever?  Or shall we both go?  Or should I stay here and keep an eye on the Inspector while Jeeves downstairs continues with his silver-polishing?

Manouche *laughs softly*  Blimey, what a house!  I don’t s’pose any reporters from Castles o’ th’ Rich an’ Famous ‘ll be flockin’ here to do a cover story anytime soon.  *pauses, considers*  I should go see Malachi.  I ‘ave things t’ discuss with ‘im anyway.  I’d love t’ have ye come along, but I think it’d be good fer th’ Inspector to ‘ave someone ‘ere if he wakes up an’ feels like talkin’.  An’ y’ can get more rest stayin’ ‘ere, too.  Ye shouldn’t be movin’ about so much jus’ yet.

Blake *waves hand*  I’m fine … but you would move faster without me along, an’ the sooner you get back, the sooner we can go home.  Then Godley can come up and take over.  It’d be good to be inside behind locked doors before dark. 

Manouche *looks up at clock*  Blimey, I hadn’t thought o’ that … day’s gettin’ away from me.  Right, I’ll be on me way, then.  *nods at table*  If he wakes up an’ wants any brandy, a small shot wouldn’t hurt, I reckon.  *stands up, starts to move toward door*

Blake *grabs her hand, pulls her back to him, onto his lap, whispers*  One for the road.  *wraps arms around her, kisses her*

Manouche:  Keep that up an’ I won’t be seein’ th’ bloody road anytime soon …  *returns the kiss, gazes into his eyes*  I’ll tell th’ Sergeant what’s up … an’ I’ll be back as fast as I can.  *rises, smiles, turns to door, leaves room.  Goes downstairs, fills in Sergeant Godley – who’s just finished cleaning the silver.  Leaves house, heads to From Hell Court.*

Blake *pulls out cigarettes, lights one, watches Abberline.  Thinks of something, reaches in coat pocket, brings out astragalus root – from the plant Manouche had told the male nurses about when she was posing as Dr. Rainey.  Blake had remembered the name, looked it up later … and sure enough, it was true what she’d said about the root’s anti-viral properties.  He’d bought some before he went on his trip, having always been a firm believer in holistic medicine, particularly after his time spent with Nobody.  He looks at the root, stands up, tucks it into Abberline’s shirt pocket.  Slowly sinks back in chair, finishes his cigarette, glad to see Abberline resting quietly in what appears to be deep, dreamless sleep*