Jack gets sick. Phryne puts him in her bed.

Castiza contemplates the skull of Gloriana.

It's 2006, but just barely. Overall, 2005 was a relatively shit year, but this one is looking even worse. It's also looking like Dean's last.

“Tell me Mr. Holmes, what can you tell me about myself? Or better yet, can you tell me how I appeared in John’s bedroom without walking past you in the sitting room first?”

Author summary from Snickfic:

He was so tall. Conor mostly forgot that, somehow. Dumo was the first of the Wilkes-Barre guys to make it to the show, but he was still one of them, an equal - until now, as Conor surveyed the terrain and felt pretty damned unequal.
 
Dumo met Conor’s eyes. His cheeks were apple-red. “Please?” Dumo said, as though even now Conor might leave him hanging.

It's the heat that gets him, every time.

He's letting him in. He'll use this like he's used every scrap of information Andrew has given him. This is a mistake.

(Fletcher walks him home from the jazz club. Andrew invites him in, to talk.)

Masks, and the people who wear them.

Kreizler conducts an inquiry.

The planet Mon Mothma sent them to was supposed to be uninhabited and safe. It's only one of those things.