"A biologist, chemist, physicist and mathematician walk into a bar and are all happy when they find they can actually order drinks and haven't been hit by a bar of metal. Joking aside..." – extract from a seminar by Julia Emery somewhere in a distant world, 2153.

Matt, Scott, April and Amy sat at the small café on the fifth floor of a bookstore behemoth. It was a beautiful day outside, and would be beautiful, they knew, for the rest of the day. Light jazz played in the background and once in a while they'd each look at Matt and back, just to make sure. All was well, all had been well so far.

"Is this the place?" asked Matt. "You sure, Apes?"

"I guess the coffee's a fair price. But why here?" echoed Scott.

"It's always been a government building," she replied "for Aprils and Aprils back, at least thirty years." She hesitated, pushed aside half-dim memories. "Are you sure this is such a good idea?" she asked the girl opposite.

"Of course it is," said Amy.

"April, how much do you still remember?" asked Scott.

"A lot. There was this library of pure white. And other things. It's hard to describe."

Amy ducked over her coffee. "Ah, shh, people, there he is," she said. "Act natural."

"How?" asked Scott.

"Would you just shut up and try?"

A man in a grey suit that wasn't yet tattered and a suitcase emerged the final few steps onto the fifth floor. He had smart shoes, not a hint of heavy Doc Martens and went to order himself a coffee and two packs of biscuits. Moments later behind him emerged the usual contact, an Englishman who'd once been a single part agent, nine parts enigma. The Englishman saw the four of them immediately, grinned, and made a bee-line to give Raynes a bear-hug at the counter. The American protested. Schofield didn't let up. He too ordered coffee, and they took their usual table.

"So, Mr Raynes, what have you got for me today?" asked Schofield as he fixed the table to stop it wobbling.

"I'm taking the day off after this. Here, have the suitcase. I need a holiday, or at least lunch. I don't want to see this fucking city for a few months." He passed the suitcase to Schofield and opened both packs of biscuits, his and Schofield's. He slid one pack over, kept the other for himself. This time he'd get more than a few.

"It's really over?" he asked.

"Seems like it," replied Schofield.

"No bullshit phone calls this time, right?" asked Raynes.

"I think not."

Raynes dipped his biscuit in coffee. "Are they here with you?" Raynes glanced to a table full of students.

"No, I think they came by themselves. God knows what Peregrine's doing if she's not here. Maybe she doesn't remember." He waved a hand dismissively "I'll check on her later, make sure she's okay."

There was a pause. A mundane, banal one.

"How's your foot?" asked Raynes.

"It's not shredded to the bone, so...on balance, better." He gave Raynes a sidelong glance, rummaged in a carrier bag. "Here, I got you something. I meant to come here after we'd dealt with that call and give it to you. We never got that chance."

He slid over a thick travel book. Nine-hundred and ninety-nine places to go before you die. "Try to find at least a few you like."

"I think I will," said Raynes. "Thank you." The cover glinted, and he opened it to see Schofield had written a note of thanks in it too.

"Remind me not to let you near the gas pipes here." Schofield swigged the last of the espresso. "That's enough business, meeting's over."

The table vibrated and Raynes' cappuccino rolled and spilled with the sway of Schofield getting up. "Shall we take those idiots to lunch?" Schofield pointed, passed his glance over four grinning faces. Amy gave a wave.

"You can't get away from them, can you?" said Raynes.

"No."

"That's such a fucking smug grin," replied Schofield.

"This April's doing, you think?"

"Must be. No-one else would know to come here."

And so Raynes got up to follow Schofield, took his book and went over to the table full of students. And this time he wasn't reluctant when they all went for a bear-hug.