"So, Mr Allen, tell me more about your research." Clive said dully, notebook at the ready. He was wondering why he had been assigned to interview this unknown scientist, who had no scientific breakthroughs or ground-breaking journals under his belt.

From the moment Dimitri began speaking, Clive dismissed him as another whackjob trying to push the limits of human technology – and miserably failing, of course. Time travel? That was so cliché, it hurt. It reminded him of all those cartoon shows he watched as a little kid, and how his father once built a 'time-machine' for him out of cardboard boxes. And then sometimes they'd pretend they were dinosaurs, stomping and crashing about-

"Enough!" Clive growled under his breath. He tried his best to bring his attention back to Dimitri, who was now beckoning him towards a blackboard.

"What you see here is an example of how a time field works. I believe that if I were to do this, I would actually be able to reverse time. Anyone with past regrets would definitely want….. to go back in time, wouldn't you say, Mr Dove?" Dimitri's mouth twisted.

"What did you say?" Clive looked up, startled.

"I said, this is an example of a time fie—"

"No, no, not that, the last sentence!"

If Dimitri was offended by Clive's sudden change in tone, he didn't show it. "Anyone with past regrets….. would definitely want to go back in time." a shadow passed over his face as he said that.

Not so much Clive, though. On the contrary, a wolfish look came into his eyes. "Mr Allen, you are a genius! Tell me more about this machine of yours." He removed his camera and started snapping away.

Clive sat on top of the time machine. Or rather, a model of the time machine.

"You have to be more patient, Clive." Dimitri was saying. "Even if you were to pump your entire fortune into this project, you would still be missing two things: brains and talent. And that's not so easy to find. Besides, if the government were to find out, we would surely be lynched by the scientific community."

"So what you're saying is, all we need is more scientists." Clive was dressed in oil-splattered overalls today.

"In a nutshell, yes, but where are you going to…."

"Cogg! Spring! Where are you?" Clive strode towards the door and shouted down the corridor. Hurrying footsteps immediately answered him, and the boy turned back towards Dimitri. "We'll talk about this later. I have to go visit Mama's grave and….." his voice faltered.

"…." Dimitri's work-lined face softened a little. "Just think, Clive! Soon, you'll be able to meet your parents and Constance Dove again, and I'll be able to see…. Claire….. once more…"

If Dimitri had been looking at Clive just then, he would've noticed how empty his eyes were, like tunnels leading into something ugly and unpleasant. Clive hopped off the model and strode out of the basement room.

When Dimitri went looking for him later, he found him in the study, asleep on the desk. Clive's sleeping expression was clenched, almost cruel – something no person of his age should look like.

"Accept this old man's apologies… for the loss of a childhood that you had every right to." He muttered, patting Clive's head, which was something the younger man would never allow Dimitri to do if he had been awake. "I'm sorry. I wish growing up had been easier for you." A warm blanket was placed over Clive's shoulders, and Dimitri quietly stepped out.