A/N: Finally – the last chapter! Can you believe it? Thank you to everyone who has made it this far! You deserve medals for your achievement!

~xXx~

Epilogue

2011

"Here you go," Robin looked like a slightly inept waitress as he whirled and twirled around the table with plates in his hands. One wrist was still a little tender but had more or less healed from his brush with the office door. Kim practically drowned in her own drool at the sight of the pizza. A rather large tattoo of Sparky's Magic Piano had taken up almost all of her day and she'd missed lunch. Not that she'd been in the mood to eat after the constant impressions of said piano enacted by the man she was tattooing at the time.

It looked unlikely her appetite was going to last either as the Dispatches logo came on the TV screen in the corner of the room followed by the words Evan White: Where Did It All Go Wrong?

"Of all the days you could have picked for this, it had to be the night they showed this bloody documentary!" she scolded.

"It was the only night we could all do!" Robin protested, "you know that!"

He disappeared to get the third plate from the kitchen as a familiar, annoying woman appeared on the screen.

"In two thousand and eight, DI Alex Drake was shot in the head by known criminal Arthur Layton…"

Kelly slapped her forehead as she stared at the screen. The hospital corridor in which the woman was standing seemed awfully familiar too.

"Ro-bin?" she called in a sing-song voice, "I think you might remember this."

Robin arrived in the doorway, caught sight of the woman and scowled.

"Oh no," he sighed as he sat down at the table, losing his appetite with every second of television that passed by.

"…And it was within this room that Evan sat by his goddaughter's bedside every day for two and a half years, keeping a terrible secret that it would take one terrible rooftop confrontation to reveal…"

The shot changed very abruptly and both Robin and Kelly knew why.

"Aw, they cut out the part where you threatened them with your fist if they didn't stop filming," Kelly said with disappointment.

"Hmm, I wonder why," Robin tried to hide beneath his fringe which didn't really work.

"OK, what did I miss?" asked Kim.

"We may have encountered them filming," Robin coughed.

"And in THIS room," the woman on the screen continued, "lies Arthur Layton, a one-time drug dealer who has been desperate and destitute for many years. His situation led him to make a blackmail attempt that would lead to the shooting of one detective, a tattooist and the eventual exposure of the lies of a famed beard model."

"Do you actually want us to eat your food or what?" asked Kim, indicating the shamed beard model on the TV.

"My pizza is of such great quality that it overpowers the hideousness of the beard," Robin told her.

"Oh, bollocks it does," Kim laughed as she stated to tuck in, despite her anti-Evan stance.

In the weeks since the car accident and the immediate aftermath a warm friendship had built quickly between Kim and Robin. It reminded Kim uncannily of her friendship with Simon except that the ages were a little reversed, herself being a couple of years older than Robin. They were both busy people but they tried to meet up once a week, even if just for a coffee or a chat. It was their way of keeping Alex's memory alive, even though her body lay still and silent in the hospital.

That Robin wanted a tattoo had been quite a revelation to Kim. The fact that he wanted her to design a variation on her own for him had been flattering and touching – if a little unoriginal, which she had already chastised him for at the time.

"How's your tat doing, by the way?" she asked.

"Scabbing over," said Robin with a face.

Kelly laid down her knife and fork.

"A lovely subject of conversation for the dinner table," she said.

"What would Simon say if he knew about your act of rebellion?" Kim teased.

"It's hardly rebellion," said Robin, "besides, he's not going to see it for a very long time, is he?" he momentarily realised that he and Kim weren't alone this time and tried to think of a way to cover it up but Kelly seemed not to have heard. In fact, she often seemed not to hear when they let something slip.

In the aftermath of the strange events the three of them had been through to help Alex there had been changed for all of them. Robin began his new post almost immediately and took to it like a duck to water. A new office awaited him, one with a door that didn't seem to have it in for his wrist, and his new work proved challenging and interesting enough to help keep his mind away from missing Simon a little. Alex too. He'd felt a terrible wrench initially. They'd grown close in a very short space of time. With all they had been through it was inevitable really.

He wasn't the only one with new career paths opening up to him. For her role in the events and for saving Kim's life Kelly gained recognition and received her own promotion, while Robin had helped Kim take the first steps towards seeing a return to the force. She was still feeling nervous about the decision and couldn't bear the thought of giving up the tattooing completely so a part-time arrangement was agreed to. She would have to start again as a detective constable but her previous excellent record insured that her previous station was keen to take her back.

There was much to celebrate at the famed 'reunion dinner'. Sadly, one of the things to celebrate was not the excellent television that night.

"…and on New Year's Day, two thousand and eleven, Detective Inspector Alex Drake awoke from her two and a half year coma to the delight of her beloved daughter Molly, her doting godfather Evan and her close friends." The annoying woman's face fell dramatically. She was good at that look. "But within a month the amazing medical recovery of Drake would be overshadowed by the scandals that plagued Evan 'The Beard' White."

"Oh my god, they've given him a nickname!" cried Robin, pointing at the screen.

"That's going to be his criminal name!" hooted Kim, "if he gets sent down his fellow inmates are going to call him 'The Beard'!"

"Now, I will admit," Robin began, "that I had a stubble phase at one point, not so long ago," he rubbed his now clean-shaven chin, "but I never went for the full beard and now I am very glad about that."

They watched as the first ad break came on and a caption saying Dispatches is sponsored by Gillette appeared on the screen.

"And that's another thing," Robin began, "all this bloody publicity – I am so sick of dealing with razor riots!"

"With what?" frowned Kim.

"They keep asking for the dogs," Robin explained, "every time Evan's on the news supermarkets and chemists see a sharp rise in the sales of razors." He paused. "No pun intended. Anyway, sometimes if they sell out the beardy men get a bit violent. We've had to deal with three razor riots since the trailers for Dispatches came on alone. It's worse than when the most popular toy sells out at Christmas!"

"We have a lot of beardy men in custody at the moment," Kelly added.

Kelly had been through some difficult times since the events on the roof and the aftermath. The merest mention of what had occurred sent her into a panic, or made her change the subject very quickly. Robin understood it had been a traumatic time for her, as it had for all of them, and that there were good reasons why she might not feel able to confront it yet but there seemed to be something deeper at work. Something she didn't seem ready to share yet. She seemed especially awkward around Kim and had tried several times to get out of the meal but conceded in the end when it became clear Robin would just keep rescheduling until they could all make it.

Robin tried to ignore the constant advertisements from razors during the ad break as an ad for Wilkinson Sword Quattro razors came on.

"Hope the pizza's OK," he said.

"Excellent," mumbled Kim, her mouth full.

Robin was glad of the opportunity to cook for someone. That was something he really missed and something that he always held as a treasured memory from their strange time 'on the run'. He had to admit that the whole thing had helped him to come alive in a way that he never had before. It was as though the constant adrenaline rush and the need to keep moving had given him a massive kick up the backside. He still missed Simon with every beat of his heart but he knew now that he couldn't put his own life on hold. He had to make the most of however long he had before they were reunited. The fragile nature of life had never been drilled in so deeply to him as it had through their ordeal and he had found a strength he'd never known was there.

The programme came back on and the annoying woman began to waffle again.

"…Evan White took his goddaughter home from hospital just one month after she awoke. This behaviour seemed strange but with his legal standing doctors were reluctant to question him…"

"I think we should make a toast," Robin said quite suddenly.

"Anything to avoid listening to her talking about Evan 'The Beard' White," teased Kim.

Robin lifted his glass of Pepsi while the others lifted their wine.

"To the soon-to-be Detective Constable on my left," he said, "and the Police Inspector on my right. Both well deserved."

"And to the doggy big-wig in the middle," Kim teased.

"Or Chief Inspector, as we have to call him at work," Kelly added.

They clinked glassed, drank and turned their attention back to their pizza for a little while. They ate in silence for some time until the sound of the woman waffling about Evan began to put them off their food.

"And it was when Evan took the unnecessary and cruel decision to attempt to get his goddaughter sectioned that she found herself left with no choice but to run from his home and seek shelter with a friend, Police Inspector Robin Thomas."

"Chief Inspector," Robin corrected loudly, "and it's Shoebury-Thomas. Get your facts straight, woman!"

"Do we know that woman's name?" asked Kim, "so we can send her some 'constructive criticism'?"

"I know your definition of constructive criticism, Kim, and it'll end up landing on my desk as harassment!" teased Robin.

"I'll look her up online later," said Kelly.

"Oh, don't encourage her!" begged Robin.

"…It was while on the run with Robin that his own mental health came onto question…"

"Oh shi-i-i-i-i-it," groaned Robin, head in hands, "I know what's coming up next."

Sure enough footage of him asking several tattooists whether they would be willing to tattoo his police dogs soon appeared. As though it wasn't bad enough by itself, Kim decided to add some sound effects for the concept, starting with the sound of a tattoo needle whirring away, followed a moment later by an impression of a dog howling.

"Thank you, Kim, thank you so much for that!" Robin folded his arms as both Kim and Kelly giggled.

"They thought you were barking mad," Kim hooted.

"I see your wine is starting to take effect," commented Robin and Kim pulled a face.

They finished eating their pizzas quietly, paying attention on and off to the exposé of the shamed beard model.

"Of course, the real crime in all of this is that Layton got about three minutes of air time and he'd the one that fired the bullet," said Robin.

As the programme finished and the plates were emptied Kim leaned back and rubbed her stomach.

"I'm totally stuffed," she groaned "even the beardy one couldn't spoil my appetite."

"It was really great, Robin, thanks," Kelly said, a little quietly.

A stranger and awkward silence fell as then credits for Dispatches rose, alongside the sound effect of an electric razor whirring away. Robin had a strange sense that Kelly was about to make her excused to leave. It was weird – it was a sixth-sense he'd always seemed to have – whether on the phone or in person. He always knew when someone was about to end a call or leave a situation.

"You're not going to go are you, Kelly?" he asked.

"Oh no, don't eat and run," said Kim who was keen to get to know her better.

Kelly looked a little awkward.

"I'm sorry, guys," she said, "early start in the morning. I need to get home."

Kim cleared her throat.

"Before you go," she began, "I'd like to make another toast."

"Oh, hang on," Robin lifted the wine bottle and topped up Kim and Kelly's glasses then lifted a big bottle of Pepsi to top up his own but he accidentally squeezed it and Pepsi shot out from the bottle over the table and down his arm. "Shit!" he cried, settling the bottle down and quickly mopping up the mess with napkins. As he wiped his arm and tried to get rid of the stickiness his face grew horrified. "Oh no."

"What? What's wrong?" asked Kim.

"Another bloody watch," Robin groaned, "It's only as cheap one but I just got it this morning." He shook his head. "I knew I should have bought as bloody waterproof one!"

"God, Rob, how many is that now?" cried Kim, "three? Four?"

"Too many," Robin mumbled. He knew he was prone to silly accidents but it was getting ridiculous now.

As he finished cleaning up the mess and finally topped up his glass Kim raised hers and began,

"I'd usually save this toast for Christmas, but I feel like it's just as appropriate today." She looked from Robin to Kelly. "To absent friends."

"Absent friends," they chorused, raising their own glasses. They clinked in the air and all sipped their drinks before Robin said quietly,

"I really wish she was here."

Kim didn't need to ask who he meant.

"Me too," she said quietly.

Silence fell again for several moments, which was only broken by the scraping of the chair as Kelly got to her feet. She looked from Robin to Kim a little guiltily and said,

"I'd better get going before it gets late. But I've really enjoyed this," she glanced at the TV. "Despite the entertainment."

Robin got to his feet.

"I'll see you out," he said.

"Thanks," said Kelly. She looked back a little awkwardly. "Night, Kim."

"Bye, Kelly," Kim said with a wave and a smile.

She sipped her wine as she waited for Robin to return. She felt a little strange, almost adrift, when she wasn't with him now. It was like a connection to her past. Although she and Robin had barely even passed each other in the corridor in 1995 just knowing the connection was there gave her a tangible link to her time in that world.

She glanced up as Robin arrived back looking somewhat tired. He scratched his head and exhaled loudly.

"You look knackered," Kim commented.

"Oh, bloody razor riot today," he commented, "got down there with the dogs, one of them went rogue, saw a cardboard cut-out of a bloke shaving and ran off with it. Three streets I chased the damn thing down. In the end the dog dropped it and went after an actual man who was shaving instead."

Kim giggled. She got to her feet, grasped her wine and took a seat on the couch as Robin sat beside her.

"Thanks for tonight," she said.

"My pleasure," said Robin, "thanks for the tattoo."

Kim smiled.

"I really didn't think you had it in you," she said.

"Hey, who knew?" said Robin, "next, I think I'll try getting something pierced."

"How about your brain?" Kim teased.

"How about your arse?" Robin countered.

"All your rebuttals involve arses," she remarked.

For an hour they talked and laughed, just like friends who had known each other for years. It was the way they always felt when they were together. For Kim it was like getting to know the other half of a pair of which she's bonded so well with the first 'half' so many years before while for Robin it was not just a link with both Simon and Alex but a new and exciting kind of friendship with a person who struggled as much as he did to form that kind of bond.

By the time she went home they were both exhausted from laughing and Robin decided to throw caution to the wind by leaving the washing up until the next day.

"You scoundrel!" Kim teased as she headed out of the door, "you watch, next thing you know you'll be on the news again. Robin Thomas, wanted for not washing his dishes!"

"That's Robin Shoebury-Thomas," Robin reminded her.

Kim gave him a fond smile.

"How could I forget?" she said.

They hugged and waved their goodbyes, then Robin closed the door and gave a hefty sigh. It was always the same when it got to the end of the day. No matter what he filled up his time with he was always left to head to bed alone.

He walked slowly through the flat and back to the lounge; the remains of the meal were left on the table, the telly still playing in the background. On the table was one soggy, sticky and no-longer functioning watch. He sighed and shook his head. Maybe it was time to give up trying to work out whereabouts he was in the day. He could rebel against the laws of the universe.

He flicked off the TV and decided to leave the plates exactly where they were. He lifted his glass and finished off the last mouthful of Pepsi before heading to the kitchen and filling a glass with water.

It was strange, but some things just didn't change. Same old bed time routine. Sometimes he accidentally took an extra glass of water to bed, forgetting Simon wouldn't be there to drink it. He slowly made his way to the bedroom and changed into his pyjamas. The bed was cold, ever single night it froze him as he climbed in by himself.

He set the alarm, settled down and closed his eyes. Despite the masses of thoughts going round in his head the hectic day was sure to permit him a good night sleep. However, before he could drift away there was a click and an almighty blaring from the radio.

"What the fuck?" Robin cried, his heart racing so fast it felt like the heart of a scared baby bird held in the palm of a hand.

He scrambled upright, reached out and tried flicking the switch back and forth on the radio but it was already in the off position so he didn't know what he was supposed to do, he tried to turn the volume down but nothing changed. Just as he was starting to grow panicky and wondering what he was supposed to do before the neighbours appeared at the door to complain the static and unclear buzzing of the radio cleared and a song began to play. It was festive and Christmassy and only served to confuse him more. His face wrinkled up in shock as the ridiculous nature of hearing a Christmas song at the end of March caused him to wonder if he was even awake or if this was a very strange dream.

#...Once again as in olden days

Happy golden days of yore

Faithful friends who were near to us

Will be dear to us once more…#

Robin froze. He knew that song. As miserable as it was it was one of his Christmas favourites, but somehow he'd never really listened to the words before. Suddenly they seemed to develop a new meaning to him. He felt his eyes closing and his heart jumping to his throat as he swallowed. He had the strangest feeling. It didn't make sense. But it was there, in the back of him mind – and more than that, it was in his heart. It was the strangest feeling but it was almost as though he felt incredibly close to Simon at that moment. Almost as though it was a message or an echo from him. He could practically catch his scent in the air.

#...Someday soon, we all will be together

If the Fates allow

Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow

So have yourself a merry little Christmas now…#

Robin found his eyes closing tightly and a tear began to roll down his cheek. He felt like an idiot for thinking this way but it seemed like such a message. A deliberate statement from him, right to his heart. He found himself shaking just a little. It was the closest he'd felt to him since the car crash.

He almost felt Simon's heart aching for him,

"Oh God, Simon," he whispered, "I…" he swallowed and shook his head a little, "miss you too."

His voice was broken with tears and emotion as the radio fizzled and died to silence. He trembled and shook as he wrapped himself up in the duvet and tried hard to make sense of what had just occurred. It seemed impossible; it seemed bloody out of the question. But something told him that as strange as it might seem, worlds collided for just the merest moment.

His eyes closed and he drifted onto a deep sleep eventually. His sleep was dreamless and calm, wrapped in a blanket of protection from the knowledge that Simon had almost crossed his path once again. As long as those moments kept coming he felt for sure that one day they would find themselves together again. The wait was torture. It was agony inside. But he would keep holding on because he knew they'd be reunited one day. It was his destiny.

And destiny was something that just couldn't be fought.

~xXx~

Beep.

His eyes opened just a crack. The stark white hospital lights forced them closed again and a wave of distant voices seemed to confuse him for a while.

Beep.

The monitor sounded again. So his hearing was working alright, at least.

"Arthur? Arthur, welcome back."

He tried to open his eyes one more time and against the bright light the shadow of a nurse came into view. She was pretty and kindly, a warm smile greeting his vision as it began to clear.

"Don't try to move or speak, it's OK – you need to take things very easy. Doctor -?"

The nurse took a step back as a tall female doctor came into view.

"Arthur? Arthur, you're in hospital. I'm Doctor Grange. Now, listen to be carefully. You had an accident. You crashed your car. You've been unconscious for a few weeks and it's going to take a while for you to get back your full range of movement and motor function. Please be patient, all will happen in good time. We're taking good care of you and we're going to check you over now, OK?"

He lay there, powerless to do a thing as the doctor began to prod and poke him. He blinked. That was about all he could do. He tried to turn his head a little and managed to see a little more to one side. There was a doorway; outside he could just make out uniforms. Uniforms of a couple of… what were they? Officers? Guards? He couldn't be sure.

He tried to speak, despite the doctor's instructions. His lips moved - they seemed awfully dry, and he tried to spark his vocal chords into a response.

"What's that Arthur?"

His voice was weak, as though it was out of practice but he just about made himself heard.

"Date?" he whispered.

The doctor glanced around.

"The date?" she asked, "It's the twenty eighth of March."

He licked his lips again.

"Year?" he whispered.

The doctor laughed.

"It's alright, Arthur, you're still in two thousand and eleven. You weren't asleep that long."

Those were the only words he said as he closed his eyes and allowed the doctor to carry on with her prodding and poking. His head was awash with thoughts as he tried to make sense out of what was going on.

2011? How did I get to 2011?

It seemed impossible. It seemed like a dream. But yet here he was, in another time, another year, another body.

"You're doing well, Arthur. I'll let you get some sleep now."

There were footsteps as the doctor left the room. Arthur? Who the fucking hell was Arthur?

When it came down to it, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he was back, somehow. The other side of the line. It seemed impossible, but he'd learnt that very little actually was, when it came down to it.

As he felt sleep taking him over again the full impact of his situation dawned upon him. Here he was, back amongst the land of the living. A little list came to mind of people he'd like to pay a visit to. People who would be oh so glad to see him again, he was sure.

And now he could do just that. The chance he never thought he would have. Back on the other side of the line, the world was once again his oyster and this time nothing and no one was going to stop him from exacting the revenge he desired on those who deserved it.

As Jim Keats fell asleep, he thought about the exhilarating day he had ahead tomorrow. And the day after that. And all the days to come.

Revenge was a dish best served in the land of the living.

~x~ To Be Continued ~x~

~xXx~

Author's Note: I barely know what to say. This was… an experience! I look at the word count and I just can't believe it And then I look at the faded keys on my (new!) laptop and I think, hmm, maybe I did write that much after all! And if you think I'm kidding I'll take a picture! Good thing I can touchtype, the N, M, H and L keys are totally blank!

Thank you to everyone who has followed on this epic journey. I know staying with a fic this long takes some doing, so I really appreciate it. I hope that you've enjoyed the ride as much as I've enjoyed creating it. And to think I didn't think writing Whispering was going to suck me in as much as writing Strangers did! This story is the thing that's kept me sane through a dark and anxious few weeks, hence the many, many updates to distract me. To everyone who put this story on alert or favourite, I send so many thanks. I'm really grateful for your support x

A huge, extra-special thank you to everyone who has reviewed this fic as it's gone along, with special thanks to Oceancounty, Fenella Church, Sillygenie, Sash queen of the Jungle, MorganaNK, rantandrumour, Anagram-Analogy and anyone I have forgotten, as well as people outside of FFnet who have been so supportive and inspirational; of course to dear Jen, and to Charlotte and Noemi – thank you!

You might have noticed I was a bit mean. No nice neat endings here, not my style! :D There are going to be two sequels – two separate fics, one following Keats in 2011 and the other set in 1996 which sees the return of one of the original A2A characters. The 2011 sequel is going to be very dark, and will probably end up as an M rating, while the 1996 sequel will be lighter and - towards the end - fairly daft as well. I will be starting both in the next few days, and hope to update each a couple of times a week. Unfortunately I think, as my bloody health declines, my two-chapters-a-day updates are over, but my brain is working overtime on plotting so you never know!

I've just had to carry this series on a bit longer. I've become very attached to Simon, Robin and Kim, and there is actually a massive end game in all of this. And no, I'm not telling you what it is! :D

Things I have given myself a phobia of as a result of this story include Andrew Ridgeley, sprouts, jumpers and clams. Oh, and I can't watch Come Dine With Me any more without getting an urge to do an oral Ridgeley either!

And finally, 400,000+ words – stick that up your arse, Cucumber! Or, stick a cucumber up your arse, whichever is most appropriate.