Darker London-Uncover what is underneath...

Peter had been busy confirming reservations for his anniversary the next day when Thomas pranced in his front door. Peter held his finger up to his best friend who mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. "Seven thirty? Okay, thank you very much. Yes, we'll see you then." Peter hung up the phone and then he smiled. "They had to rearrange our dinner booking, but it's all worked out. How are you, Thomas?"

( Posh sex-relationship advice from an unlikely source )

The rescue mission to save those Dead Meat prisoners from the clutches of the Templar hadn't exactly gone as planned. Not only had they been too late to save six of the seventeen prisoners, but the Glasgow Templar stronghold had turned out to be better guarded than they had anticipated. And even though Gavin had given them a correct layout of the building, the rescue operation still hadn't been easy or without sacrifice.

( In the aftermath )

It wasn't often Peter actually took a planned lunch break. Planning things at the hospital was an exercise in futility. Inevitably Connie would consider it a good idea to run streaking past Bentley who would end up with a terrible nosebleed, or Paige would levitate something into someone's path and trip them, or someone would have a vision of impending doom that had to be dealt with right then and there. Peter had learned early on to avoid plans as much as possible, but some things couldn't be avoided. Patrick Finnegan was leaving the hospital to live in his own apartment and Peter wanted to sit with him for a meal. For that, he would make time and he actually believed by the time it was halfway through, that his plans would see themselves to the end.

They were not that lucky.

( Restless )

This should be backdated a bit but I don't know how much!

As much as Peter hated flying, he loved going to the airport when it meant picking up someone he loved. His family was returning from their vacation in Spain and Peter could barely keep still while he waited in the international arrivals lounge of Heathrow airport.

( Family )

It was a rare occasion at the Kemp house. It was quiet.

( D'awww )

Phone calls at two thirty in the morning were not unknown to Peter Kemp. They were rarely good news, however, and usually they involved someone needing to be saved from some kind of supernatural calamity. When Peter sleepily answered his phone, he did not expect his best friend to sound cheerful as he said, "Peter!"

( D'awwww )