Chapter Text
“It is a place where among people who feel the same way they could dream for a few hours about being who they are inside.” - quote from a woman attending a private gay ball in pre-war Berlin, recorded in “The Growth of Urban Gay Scenes, Berlin’s Gay and Lesbian Bars,” from Queer Identities and Politics in Germany: A History, 1880-1945 , by Clayton J. Whisnant (2016)
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Ed stands on the deserted platform, waiting for the train. Its time of arrival is a glowing red line in the upper left of his vision, superimposed onto his iris.
Ed knows the time of arrival because where he is from, this train has already arrived.
He exhales a cloud of steam into the chill dawn air and shifts his weight. His boot heels clack on the hard tiles. He’s glad for the moment of solitude. Insertion always throws off his equilibrium and he has to keep moving around on his feet while his inner ear adjusts.
He hears footsteps coming up the stairs, and turns to see a man with curly blonde hair, a thick, luxurious-looking scarf, and a dark coat. The man is looking straight ahead, across the platform.
Ed thinks, He’s handsome .
The blonde suddenly tenses; Ed’s long-honed instincts have him following the blonde’s gaze in time to see two things: first, that the train to Berlin is pulling into the station surprisingly early, and second, that a bald man with a pistol is on the opposite platform.
A red warning line appears in Ed’s vision; yeah no fucking shit , he thinks at his neuralnet implant. He clears out that notification as fast as he can, just in time to see the bald man fire the pistol. A bullet ricochets off the tile floor between Ed and the blonde. The bald man methodically reloads as the blonde reels back; Ed sees what is about to happen and jumps in front of the blonde. Ed’s insertion suit takes the bullet and then the train blocks the bald man from view. Ed grabs the blonde by the arm and hauls him through the train’s opening doors.
***
‘Any questions?’
Ed hands the tablet back to Izzy. ‘Nah, looks routine.’
Izzy’s eye twitches. ‘I’m sending you after a notorious warlord, one of the chief architects of the Long War, a man who has killed thousands of our people, and you think it looks routine?’
Ed shrugs. ‘They all look the same to me, Iz,’ he says. He tips his chair back and puts his feet up on the wall, carefully avoiding the wires spilling out of it from Ivan’s workstation.
‘How do you figure?’ Izzy asks, teeth gritted.
‘We make a plan, we execute a plan, we make another plan,’ Ed says, and shrugs again.
‘Ed, if you catch this guy and bring him to justice,’ Fang says, ‘that could end the war.’
Ed privately doubts that, but it’s sweet to see a guy as old as Fang retaining hope. Ed personally figures that the defence industry will find some new notorious warlord once he’s brought the current one in for justice. ‘Looking forward to that,’ he says, rather than start a philosophical argument in the control room. ‘When’s insertion?’
‘Looks like 0607 tomorrow is the ideal conjunction,’ Ivan says, consulting his tablet. ‘This is a tricky one, mathematically.’
‘Mid-twentieth century Europe always is,’ Ed says. ‘What are you gonna do?’
‘Try not to fuck it up,’ Izzy suggests.
Ed grins in Izzy’s direction. ‘You wouldn’t be sending me if you thought I would.’
‘Don’t get cocky,’ Izzy snaps. Ed rolls his eyes at Fang, who glances to the side to make sure Izzy’s not watching and then grins back.
As soon as Ed feels Izzy’s gaze rotating back towards them, he asks, ‘Fang, you got my download ready?’
‘Working on it,’ Fang says. ‘Do you want zeppelin schedules in addition to trains?’
‘Holy shit, I could ride on a zeppelin,’ Ed says, excited about something related to this mission for the first time all day. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Ed, I need you to focus.’
Ed tips his head up, sighs deeply, and says, ‘Fucking hell, Izzy, I get it, this Badminton’s a high level target. I’m fucking good at my job and you know it.’
‘You’re the best,’ Izzy says. ‘But you can be reckless when you’re bored. This is not going to be a boring job, I promise.’
Ed flicks his eyes to Izzy. ‘Why? Mid-20th century?’ Insertions get tricky that far back; too many complex interactions to track and ensure the agent isn’t fucking up anything serious enough that it can’t be fixed by a few tweaks. It’s particularly important that they not do anything that would prolong the age of European imperialism because resource extraction from European colonies exacerbates the climate crisis of the 21st and 22nd centuries.
Izzy hesitates. ‘Badminton is - strange. You read the file?’
Ed nods. ‘There wasn’t much there beyond high ranking Imperialist.’
‘Yeah,’ Izzy says. ‘No one knows where he came from. No one on the Coalition side, anyway. But he’s been jumping time for decades. It’s only through some very lucky spying - and very dead spies - that we’ve got this lead on where he’ll be for the next few days.’
‘Did the spies know what he’ll be doing there?’ Ed asks. ‘Beyond being in Berlin?’
Izzy shakes his head. ‘1929 is so far back, we were having trouble getting anything,’ he says. ‘You’re coming in mid-October. Black Friday that kicks off the Great Depression is October 24, which is a massive inflection point, so our best guess is something to do with that.’ He looks at Ed. ‘Can you handle this? Are you in the right headspace?’
‘Fucking hell, Iz,’ Ed says, annoyed. He technically outranks Izzy, but the man loves to micromanage him. ‘Yes. I can handle it.’
***
Ed drags the blonde down the swaying train corridor by the arm. He’s vaguely aware that the other man is saying something, but Ed needs to get them somewhere safe before he can begin to process it. This train car only opened on their side of the platform but he assumes that the next car down opened on the other, and that the bald man is also on this train. Ed calls up his ticket in his iris implant and rechecks the location of his sleeper cabin, but the numbering system on this train is confusing as fuck and he could swear it should have been right here but this door looks nothing like what it’s supposed to and -
‘Sir,’ the blonde says emphatically. ‘Sir, this is my cabin.’
Ed turns, startled, as the blonde spins the ornate brass handle on a wooden door. Ed has been dragging him by the arm, but the blonde manages to turn them around so that now he’s the one hustling Ed into a small but beautifully appointed sleeper cabin. He shuts the door behind them and spins to face Ed.
Ed’s a little stunned; he’s not normally a guy who gets hustled.
‘I think you saved my life,’ the blonde says, quietly. ‘Are you all right? It looked like that bullet must have at least grazed you.’
‘Nah,’ Ed says. His heart is beating wildly. He needs to calm down and call up information; something is extremely fucking off with this mission. Ed’s never emergency extracted from a time jump but the thought that he should now suddenly looms.
He realises that the other man is staring at him and makes an effort to smile and shake his head. ‘Really. Must have just missed me. You know that guy?’
Some emotion passes over the man’s face. ‘Unfortunately, I do.’
‘Why’s he trying to kill you?’
The man’s gaze shifts to the floor. ‘Old school chum,’ he says, lips tight.
‘Wow,’ Ed says. ‘What kind of school did you go to, man?’
‘Eton,’ the man says.
He looks back up at Ed and Ed manages to have the presence of mind to call that up - to see quickly that it’s a school for rich boys - and force his face into something knowing.
‘Some old grudge?’ he guesses.
The man sighs. ‘We were both officers in the War,’ he says. He sits down on the bed in the cabin and removes his gloves, then unbuttons his coat. ‘We didn’t get along. He’s held a grudge against me ever since.’ He removes his scarf and carefully folds it, then lays it on the bed. ‘He’s never tried to outright shoot me before, though,’ he adds, head cocked. ‘That was quite startling.’ He looks up at Ed. ‘Thank you. Really. You don’t know me and you didn’t have to intervene.’
There’s nowhere else for Ed to sit except on the bed beside the man, so he does, holding out his hand, ‘I’m Ed.’
‘Stede,’ the man says. His handshake is firm and warm. Ed feels a flash of I’m glad I saved you . Whatever’s going on here, at least Ed did that.
‘I think my ticket might be wrong,’ Ed says. ‘Is this train going to Berlin?’
‘Yes,’ Stede says. He frowns. ‘Unfortunately, I think you’d better stay in my cabin for safety. It’s not a horribly long journey to be crammed in here, I think.’ He smiles at Ed. ‘Let me handle the ticketmaster.’
‘Thank you,’ Ed says sincerely.
‘It’s the least I can do for the man who saved my life,’ Stede says.
Ed takes his shoes off and pulls his feet up onto the bed, leaning his back against the rocking wall of the train. He doesn’t normally interact much with time natives - they’re kind of background to his job - but there’s something about Stede that makes him want to talk. He realises that Stede is watching him and gives the other man what he hopes is a genuine smile. Stede smiles back and toes his own shoes off before scooting to the opposite wall and sitting with his legs folded.
‘What are you doing in Berlin?’ Ed asks Stede. Time traveller 101: learn as many context clues as you can and for god’s sake, keep the time native talking so they don’t start asking about you.
‘I own a nightclub there,’ Stede says.
Ed nods. ‘Sounds fun,’ he says, calling up further mission info surreptitiously, trying to understand why this train seems to be different from the one he was supposed to catch. Did he come through in the wrong place? Was he on the wrong platform? Maybe an inaccurate map of the station - sometimes Ivan uses archival documents to set up insertions -
‘We try to be,’ Stede says with a smile. ‘Do you have a place to stay in Berlin?’
Ed flicks open his ticket wallet, overlays it on his right iris so he can keep the train search happening on his left. He’s got a room booked at a hotel near Tiergarten. ‘The Bergeron, I think,’ he says.
‘Oh dear,’ Stede says. ‘Are you sure?’
Ed manages to focus on Stede. ‘What? Why?’
Stede’s face is suddenly neutral; it doesn’t look particularly natural on him. ‘Have you been there before?’
Ed shakes his head. ‘Never been to Berlin,’ he admits, which is true - not in this time or any other. He’s more of an expert in mid- to late-21st century stuff, all those trillionaire space wars and climate disasters, rather than the convoluted imperial politics of the 20th century.
‘Are you political?’ Stede asks, and something in his voice tells Ed to proceed with caution.
‘Not particularly,’ he lies, as if he hasn’t spent the last thirty years fighting a political war.
Stede hesitates. ‘The Nazi Party is using the Bergeron as a meeting place,’ he says.
Ed raises his eyebrows. ‘Don’t want to go there, then,’ he says. He’s even more confused now. They shouldn’t have booked him a hotel like that; he’s not exactly a member of the Aryan race. Pretty much the opposite, actually.
Ivan has never made a mistake like that.
Something is super fucking wrong. Ed should extract. Now.
‘Why don’t you stay at my club?’ Stede asks quietly.
Ed looks up at the other man. He has the kindest eyes. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s a - ‘ Stede hesitates, then seems to come to a decision. ‘It’s a safe space,’ he says.
‘Safe for who?’ Ed asks.
‘Anyone who needs it,’ Stede replies firmly. ‘But, Ed. I must emphasise that part of the bargain of enjoying that safety is to also ensure the safety of all who stay there.’
Ed and Stede hold each other’s eyes for a long moment; then Ed says, ‘Why are you inviting me?’
‘You’re a good man, Ed,’ Stede says simply. ‘I trust you.’
***
Stede’s club, Ed realises the second he steps inside, is a gay bar.
An earlyish 20th century gay bar.
Fuck, what’s the story with these? Ed can’t access the open neuralnet this far back in time but he does have an entire downloaded text wiki he can use to try to figure out how worried he should be about being raided by the police.
After giving up on the mystery of the wrong train, he’d slept most of the way to Berlin - insertion can really take it out of you, and the further back, the worse it is - curled up on his side at Stede’s feet.
( Not in a sexual way , he scolds his brain. In a two guys, one small train cabin way .)
( Sure, his brain reminds him. Also, it’s been literal years since you’ve slept in a bed in a sexual way .)
( Why don’t you fuck off? )
When the train pulled into the station, Stede had been asleep sitting up, a book across his lap. At some point in their journey, Stede had placed his coat over Ed. Ed woke up toasty warm and could have stayed in this bed at Stede’s feet for hours. Instead, he’d roused himself and shaken Stede’s ankle. They’d walked off the train together, Ed scanning the area frantically for rogue shooters and Imperialist time travellers, but they’d arrived at Stede’s club with no trouble.
Stede lets them inside the club with a small key. There’s several bartenders and servers who call out to Stede enthusiastically; Stede smiles and introduces them all to Ed. Ed cheats and records their names with photo icons as they speak. Stede leads him through the club to a staircase at its back and then upstairs to a beautifully appointed apartment overlooking a lush courtyard. Every inch of the apartment appears to have been carefully curated, including warm, broad-planked wood floors, a large antique wardrobe painted with delicate flowers, and a single wall entirely taken up with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
‘Wow,’ Ed says, looking around at the space with wide eyes. ‘This is incredible, Stede. Did you design it?’
Stede beams at him. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Would you like a tour?’
Ed needs to be out looking for Badminton. He needs to be pursuing leads. He needs to be figuring out how to catch one of the most powerful Imperialist warlords and bringing him to justice so he can end a conflict that’s been raging since the 2070s.
But. No one’s ever looked at him the way Stede does.
What could a few more minutes hurt?
‘Yeah,’ he says to Stede, nodding enthusiastically.
***
One of the major innovations of the mid-22nd century had been the realisation that the so-called ‘butterfly effect’ didn’t exist. Due to a lot of complicated physics, free will is an illusion, as proven in a famous series of experiments where over three hundred time travellers attempted to kill Baby Hitler and none of them succeeded. A follow up experiment saw dozens of time travellers attempt to kill their own grandfathers and thus cause themselves to disappear in a space-time paradox, again without success.
Of course, knowing that free will is an illusion doesn’t alter the average human existence, because humans can’t perceive the future; they can’t even truly perceive the present. As the eye takes in light, all human sight is at a slight speed-of-light delay, and sighted people - or people who rely on any other sense - experience only sensations from their (very recent) past. The future, however preordained by atomic movement, remains as unknowable to humanity as it ever has. Therefore, aside from the usual number of existential crises on Earth - billions per day, occurring amongst all animals except the clam - the only thing that changed was the realisation that time travel could open up remarkable new opportunities for fighting wars.
Ed’s used to existential crises; he’s been having one for years. His goes: is this all there is?
For almost three decades, Ed’s been a Coalition fighter, a Time Jumper, division motto: ‘the arc of the moral universe is long’. Ed believes in the Coalition, or at least believes the Imperialist powers need to be defeated, but fuck if he’s not tired of being on the front lines of doing the defeating. Time jumping is alienating; the only connections he has in life are with coworkers who see him between jumps. There’s no point in bonding with someone in a distant time because jumps are short - usually a few days, never more than a week - and it’s tough to bond with people in his own time because they have no idea of the brutality of what he’s had to do as a Time Jumper. The few relationships he had when he was younger all ended because he was too intense, and no one wanted to deal with him in the brief times when he was home.
For decades, Ed’s told himself that the fight is worth it, but something about turning forty several years ago flicked a switch in his brain. Now when he comes home to his empty, dark apartment, all the little trinkets he’s collected in his jumps look lifeless and boring. He’ll slump on his couch for a few days, overdosing on bad news about the war from the best (worst) feeds on the neuralnet, and then he’ll get a call from Izzy and he’ll do another jump. Someday soon, he assumes, an Imperialist fighter will catch him, and that will be that.
So really: is this all there is?
***
‘Would you like to borrow some fresh clothes?’ Stede asks Ed. One of Stede’s employees, Roach, had brought them breakfast and a tea service and they are enjoying both on a little balcony overlooking the courtyard.
Ed’s too busy marvelling at the marmalade - made with pre-monoculture agricultural products, and imbued with a terroir that nothing available to someone with Ed’s salary in the 22nd century can match - to properly hear the question. ‘Clothes?’ he asks around a mouthful of warm bread.
‘You don’t have any bags,’ Stede says, not unkindly. ‘I thought you might like a change of clothes. I think we’re close to the same size - you’re maybe a bit taller and slimmer, but - ‘
Ed realises, belatedly, that he’s never spent so many hours with a time native that his single authentic outfit - painstakingly supplied to him by Historical Garmentry, one of the most overworked departments in the entire Time Jump division - would be noticed. Ed’s wearing his insertion suit under his clothes and it wicks away any sweat or grime, but of course Stede doesn’t know that.
‘You don’t have to,’ Ed says, but Stede waves a hand.
‘You saved my life, Ed,’ he says. ‘And what’s more, you’re a guest in my home.’ He stands. Ed looks at his tea and marmalade longingly and Stede notices and says, ‘Bring it with you to my closet.’
Ed laughs. Stede delights him. ‘All right,’ he says. He scoops up the full plate and follows Stede through the airy rooms of his apartment to, of course, a perfectly appointed closet lined with neat rows of the finest clothing Ed’s ever seen.
‘What are you planning to do today?’ Stede asks, absent-mindedly taking a piece of bread from the plate in Ed’s hand before starting to search through the clothing with his other hand.
‘I’m in town for business,’ Ed says carefully, watching Stede. ‘I have to meet a client for lunch.’
‘Hopefully not at the Bergeron,’ Stede says.
‘No. And I’m going to have a word with my secretary about booking me that place.’ Ed grins internally at what Ivan would do to him if he heard Ed call him his secretary .
Stede puts a hand onto Ed’s forearm. ‘Don’t be too harsh,’ he says. ‘The Nazis have only recently taken up residence there. Perhaps your secretary didn’t know.’
‘Ah,’ Ed says. This must be the problem with that and the train times as well; archival records to reconstruct this era are notoriously dodgy because of damage from the second World War. ‘That explains things,’ Ed says, genuinely relieved. ‘He’s probably relying on some older information.’
The mission’s fine; there’s no reason for Ed to panic and extract.
‘Who are you meeting?’ Stede asks, tugging out a pair of perfectly tailored trousers and offering them to Ed. ‘Sorry, I’m not trying to be nosy. Do you think this would be too formal?’
‘It’s this guy named Badminton,’ Ed says, a piece of information he probably shouldn’t share, but if Stede knows who he is, then that’ll help Ed find him sooner.
Stede stops looking through the clothing and turns to frown at Ed. ‘Badminton?’
Ed nods. ‘Some English businessman.’
Stede purses his lips and turns back to the rack of clothing. ‘Ed,’ he says after a moment, and there’s an off note in his voice.
Ed’s heart starts to beat a little faster. ‘What?’
Stede turns back. He’s holding a tie which he offers to Ed with a little questioning pinch of his brow; Ed nods and Stede lays it over Ed’s arm. ‘Ed, do you know this Badminton’s first name?’
Ed shakes his head. ‘I don’t know much about him,’ he says, trying to skirt the line of truth and untruth. ‘My boss sent me here from Paris to meet with him. I’m meant to deliver some information and get his response and report back.’
Stede nods and finishes handing Ed clothes. ‘I’ll step outside to give you some privacy.’ He takes the plate from Ed and leaves the closet.
Ed removes his original outfit and quickly puts on the new, tying the tie in a hanging mirror on the back of the door so that it completely covers the neck of the insertion suit. As he’s buttoning up Stede’s fine white shirt, his fingers catch on something near the centre of his chest - a flaw in the insertion suit? That doesn’t feel possible; they’re remoulded before every mission. He leans close to the mirror and sees -
Fuck . That bullet the bald man shot at Stede on the train platform is burned into the nanofabric. Ed’s neck prickles with anxiety. The pistol had looked normal, but there’s no tech native to the 20th century - including nuclear radiation - that could have made an unrepairable dent in this suit. Ed feels around and manages to pluck out the bullet. It’s a flat, silvery slug. Feeling extremely unnerved, he pockets it and leaves the closet.
Stede’s hovering in the bedroom. He offers Ed a fresh cup of tea. There’s an air of nervousness to him that doesn’t help Ed’s mental state.
‘Thank you for the clothes,’ Ed says. He tries a smile. ‘I’ll bring them back, I promise.’
‘Of course you will,’ Stede says. ‘And I would be happy to part with them if you need them.’ He hesitates; Ed lets the silence play out and takes the opportunity to study how much he likes the shape of Stede’s nose and mouth. He’s just a very, very handsome man.
Whose presence calms Ed immensely.
‘Ed,’ Stede says, and Ed cocks his head, an innocent look on his face, because he’d had a feeling that he could wait Stede out to find out whatever is giving him this nervous energy. ‘The man on the platform yesterday morning is named Badminton.’
The hair on Ed’s neck stands up. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’d know him anywhere,’ Stede says softly.
Ed nods, thinking hard. ‘Do you know where he stays in Berlin?’
Stede shakes his head. ‘I can give you the names of the most common hotels for English businessmen, if that helps. But surely you know where you were going to meet?’
‘Oh,’ Ed fabricates, ‘yes, we’re meeting at a restaurant.’ He calls up a list in his iris implant, picks one that looks nearby and likely. ‘I just - I wanted to make sure he wasn’t staying too close to you.’
Stede’s face softens. ‘Thanks, Ed,’ he says. ‘I really don’t know what that was about yesterday morning. I haven’t seen Chauncey since the War. It was absolutely shocking to see him on a train platform in Paris with a gun pointed at me.’
‘Why were you in Paris?’ Ed asks.
‘Returning from London, to see my children,’ Stede says. ‘They live in Australia with my ex-wife and her new husband, but they were in London to see their grandparents.’’
‘If he knows that,’ Ed says, ‘maybe he was looking for you.’
Stede nods, but looks troubled. ‘I just thought - I really thought all that ugliness was behind me,’ he says quietly.
Ed feels a flare of intense protectiveness. ‘Stede,’ he says, reaching out and putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Stede looks at his hand like he’s startled at the touch, then up at Ed’s face. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t know anything about where I’m staying, all right? And I’ll tell you anything important I find out.’
Stede smiles, warm and genuine, though his eyes look sad. ‘Thanks, Ed,’ he says. ‘I’m very lucky to have met you.’
***
Rule 1 of the Time Jump Division: You cannot kill a Time Native.
Rule 2 of the Time Jump Division: You cannot reveal that you are a Time Jumper, or that time travel is possible, until after the year of discovery (2143).
Rule 3 of the Time Jump Division: If a Time Native attempts to force you to violate Rule 2, you MUST violate Rule 1.
***
Ed keeps an eye on the map stored in his implant, walking in concentric circles around Stede’s nightclub and canvassing the nearby neighbourhood. There’s definitely some issue with the map; things are off , but subtly, some businesses closed, others not quite as described. There’s also a lot of policemen and soldiers, marching around, loitering on street corners, and generally making Ed’s heart rate elevated.There’s truly nothing worse for Ed in a 20th century European city than a bored cop. He wonders if his knowledge of what comes for Berlin after 1929 is making him paranoid.
There’s no sign of Badminton. After several hours, Ed buys himself a meal - at least the money his insertion suit provided him with is enough for a schnitzel and a beer; historical money pre-electronic banking is often one of the hardest things to deal with - and sits in a beer garden, watching the street and thinking.
Fucking hell, there’s a lot of soldiers here. He sees a group of them harassing a young woman and wishes he had any way to intervene that wouldn’t jeopardise his mission. Eventually they let her go and she disappears around a corner; the soldiers return to conspicuously doing nothing of value. Ed calls up the wiki in his right eye and starts scanning around for information on the gay scene in late 1920s Berlin. Apparently it’s quite a libertine place, for the 20th century, at least until 1934, when changes in leadership amongst the Nazis bring in draconian anti-gay laws and put an end to the visible scene. According to a book he skims called Gay Berlin between the Wars , there’s even gay magazines available at newsstands in 1929.
Ed’s known he was gay since he was a teenager. In Coalition territory, it’s completely unremarkable. Imperialists, however, adhere to a rigid heteronormative view they call ‘the traditional family’, though who exactly it’s traditional for, Ed’s not clear. Certainly not his family.
If the tradition’s so great, why does it have to be continually enforced by violence?
As a Time Jumper of the 20th, 21st, and 22nd centuries, Ed goes to places about half the time that would be extremely dangerous if he decided to disclose his sexuality. He’s never been to a place in the 20th century where that wasn’t true - but maybe Berlin, 1929, is the exception? Ed’s interested enough that after the beer garden, he wanders to a newsstand, looking for one of the magazine titles that the article had said were available. After all, if Stede knows Badminton, then maybe there’s some connection to his club. It’s in Ed’s best interest to learn everything he can about Stede, right?
Ed’s implant gives him German comprehension and speaking ability, with an accent attuned via algorithmic averaging of extant recordings from the era, so he’s able to read the titles in the shop and speak with the shopkeeper like a time native. He doesn’t see any of the magazines the book mentioned, and now he’s been looking for long enough that the shopkeeper seems about to make it weird, so he grabs a newspaper.
‘How much?’ he asks.
‘Five marks,’ the man says, holding out his hand.
Ed pays him and walks away as casually as he can; he’d seen the shopkeeper making eye contact with the police on the corner and he wants no part of that. He walks deliberately in the opposite direction of Stede’s place until he finds a cafe. He slips inside, buys a coffee, and starts to flip through the paper while keeping an eye out the window.
That is, until the date on the paper catches his eye.
20 October.
***
It’s not possible to fuck up an insertion, temporally.
It’s quite possible to fuck one up in terms of placement - the position of the Earth vis-a-vis other celestial bodies changes a lot over time and must be calculated perfectly, in fact several early Time Jumpers died alone in the vacuum of space before they figured out the method for it - but temporally?
It’s never happened, as far as Ed knows.
Which means either someone sent him to 1934 and told him it was 1929 deliberately, or he’s experiencing a first-of-its-kind technical problem in over fifty years of successful time jumping.
He’s alone here, without neuralnet access, which won’t be invented for over a century. All Izzy, Ivan, and Fang back at the control room know is that Ed successfully went to the past.
Ed could extract right now. No one will fault him. Honestly, if this is sabotage - which it really has to be - he should extract.
But Stede knows Badminton. And Badminton tried to kill Stede.
And Stede runs a gay club, and the Nazis are about to start targeting those.
And Stede -
Stede makes Ed feel something he’s never felt before; some combination of safety and joy.
Ed leaves the cafe just in time to see Badminton entering a hotel across the street. He ducks quickly back into the cafe doorway and checks the name of the hotel against the wiki. There’s nothing of interest about it. No wonder, Ed thinks, his info’s all fucked up; five years of Great Depression and political upheaval have occurred since the time he thought Fang loaded up information for him. Ed’s lucky his money works.
He slinks across the street and enters the hotel. He’s playing a dangerous game; it seems likely that Badminton will recognise him from the Paris station, though he is hoping that the other man was so focused on shooting Stede that he didn’t notice what Ed looks like. Ed enters the hotel restaurant and sees Badminton at a corner table; he walks past nonchalantly and takes up a position at the bar. He orders a gin and tonic and sits nursing it. Luckily for him, the bar has an enormous mirror with bottles displayed in front of it; Ed can see Badminton’s table clearly in reflection, but slump enough that he thinks his own face must be concealed.
Further surprise: Badminton receives a steady stream of visitors, all serious looking men who Ed has to assume are time natives. Ed’s been in this war for three decades, been Time Jumping after Imperialists for almost all of that, and has never once observed an Imperialist interact with the people who live in the time they’ve jumped into. It’s just not done - what could a time native have to tell someone from the future that they wouldn’t already know?
Of course, Ed reflects, he’s also interacting with a time native for the first time - because Badminton drew his attention to the man. Badminton forced Ed’s hand to interact with Stede, or at least invited him to interact with Stede -
Fuck . Ed’s got to get back and warn Stede about what’s coming to his club. And he’s got to stop thinking himself in circles. He could just get up and grab Badminton and extract -
A small man walks into the room and approaches Badminton’s table. Ed can’t quite see the man’s face, but the way he moves - he seems familiar. Ed keeps trying to see his face, but the man has a hat pulled low. Whatever he’s saying, Badminton is listening, but his face is sour. Finally, Badminton nods sharply, and the small man leaves. Ed wonders if he should have followed him, but another group enters to speak with Badminton and Ed decides to observe them too.
‘Another drink, sir?’
Ed looks up at the bartender, startled. ‘What time is it?’
The bartender nods to a clock hanging over the bar. ‘Nearly 10 in the evening.’
Stede . What if tonight is when they come for his club? Ed drops coins on the bar and says, ‘Have a good night.’
Ed finds his way back to Stede’s club just as it opens for the evening. A steady stream of remarkably dressed people enter through the unassuming door into a space of beautiful light and sound. A piano player warms up while someone very tall and broad shouldered in a sequined gown leans against the piano offering suggestions. Ed sees Roach, the man who brought them breakfast, pouring a shaker over a long line of glasses on the gold-mirrored bar surface. Ed darts around the crowd and to the back stairs, charging up them and coming to Stede’s door. He’s suddenly nervous, palms sweating, stomach churning; he’s just trying to compose himself when Stede opens the door.
He’s dressed in an immaculate tuxedo. His eyes go wide when he sees Ed.
‘Stede,’ Ed says, and then stops, a little stunned by how good Stede looks.
‘Hello, Ed,’ Stede says, as if this is a perfectly normal situation that can be navigated with good manners. ‘It’s lovely to see you again. Do you want to come down for a drink?’
‘Stede,’ Ed says again. He takes a deep breath. ‘Can we talk?’
Stede nods. ‘Of course. Let me just step downstairs for a moment and make sure everything is going well, and then I’ll be back.’ He gives Ed a searching look. ‘Feel free to borrow any of my clothing if you’d like,’ he adds, and then holds the door open until Ed steps inside. Stede shuts it behind him, and something about the gentleness with which he does it - like he’s enclosing Ed in a safe place - makes Ed’s heart tremble.
Ed's being wildly reckless. This is the kind of behaviour that gets people killed by Imperialist forces; this is the kind of behaviour that gets people drummed out of the Time Jump Division. He can’t sit still. He goes into Stede’s closet and finds an entire rack of tuxedos and tugs down one that he thinks will fit him. He’s never worn something so fine, and even through his insertion suit he can tell that the fabric is heavenly to the touch. Thus attired, he strides back out to the main room and sits with his ankle resting on his knee, tapping his fingers against his heel, until Stede opens the door.
God, Stede looks good. Ed stands, hands shaking, and says, ‘Stede,’ and then doesn’t know how to continue.
Stede crosses the room and pours Ed a brandy from a cart beside his desk. He holds out the glass.
‘You saw Badminton?’ he asks, and Ed realises that of course Stede thinks that whatever Ed’s problem is, it relates to his work errand in Berlin.
Fuck. This is why you should never interact with a time native. ‘Listen, Stede,’ Ed says, ‘you know there’s a good chance that the Nazis could shut down your club, right?’
Something in Stede’s face hardens. He carefully pours himself a brandy and takes a long sip before he says, ‘Oh, I’m sure one day they will.’
‘Stede,’ Ed pleads, ‘you’ve got to be careful. These guys aren’t fucking around.’
Stede looks up at Ed and frowns. ‘I’m aware of that.’
Ed searches Stede’s face for any indication that he’s getting the urgency here. ‘I didn't understand how bad the situation had gotten,’ he says carefully.
Stede's face softens. 'It has gotten quite bad lately, yes,' he agrees.
'You should leave Berlin as soon as you can,' Ed says, relieved that Stede is seeing reason. ‘Stede, soon nothing in Europe is going to be safe.’
Stede sighs and crosses the room to sink onto his couch. ‘I know that this must look very silly to you - we’re just putting on silly little songs and dances in our silly little club - but,’ Stede takes a deep breath, ‘They took away London, New York, Hollywood, even fucking Paris is gone - but we’re still here, in Berlin. So we’re going to stay as long as we can. I just want to have a place where people can - can find each other.’ Stede’s voice breaks and he swallows. ‘Life is too long to be alone, especially when there’s so much darkness in it. It’s too late for me, but it doesn’t have to be too late for the young people to find someone to hold them through it.’
Ed feels his heart break. He’d always thought it was a figure of speech, and an overly dramatic one at that, but something inside of him shatters and is sharp enough to cut. He makes a decision. He's making so many fucking mistakes but he doesn't want to do anything else. He crosses the distance between them. Stede watches with widening eyes as Ed carefully kneels on the couch, slides his hands up Stede’s neck and onto his cheeks, and presses their mouths together. For a moment, neither of them move, and then Stede surges forward, one hand landing on Ed’s waist, the other on Ed’s arm. Ed deepens the kiss, tilting his head to rub his nose against Stede’s, and Stede makes a little startled noise against Ed’s mouth. Ed tips back, just a fraction, and presses their foreheads together.
Feeling absolutely wild, he says, ‘It’s not too late for you, Stede.’
Stede’s eyes are enormous. ‘Ed?’ he whispers, some combination of terror and wonder.
Ed strokes Stede’s cheeks with his thumbs and looks into his beautiful eyes. He feels hot and shivery, like he could cry at any moment. Stede’s hands on his body are holding him like he’s made of glass. Ed nips Stede’s mouth, and Stede gasps into his lips, then asks, ‘Ed, what are you - do you mean this?’
‘Fuck yes,’ Ed says.
‘Me?’ Stede whispers.
‘You,’ Ed confirms, heart breaking again. ‘It’s not too late.’
Stede blinks and then something in his eyes seems to clarify. Stede wraps one hand around Ed’s bicep and hauls him in closer. Ed cups Stede’s cheek and pulls his face close to kiss him again. Stede opens his mouth and Ed devours him, swinging a leg over Stede's lap and kneeling above him, knees sinking into the soft cushions so he has to clench his thighs around Stede’s to stay upright. Stede is stretching up, licking into Ed’s mouth, making greedy little noises that go straight to Ed’s cock. Ed leans back slightly to readjust and strokes his fingers along the lines at the sides of Stede’s eyes, looking deep into them. Stede’s gazing up at him like Ed’s a god, like Stede is ready to fall on his knees and worship, and it’s a fucking heady look that Ed knows he’s returning.
‘Stede?’ The door bangs open and one of them - maybe both of them - shrieks.
‘Oh god oh fuck oh god I’m so sorry,’ says whoever opened the door, and slams it again.
Stede shuts his eyes briefly; when he reopens them, he’s grinning up at Ed. ‘I think I have to attend to business,’ he says softly.
‘Can I come with you?’ Ed asks. He doesn’t want to let Stede out of his sight.
‘Oh, yes please,’ Stede says, and strokes his palm down Ed’s face. Ed turns into his hand and nuzzles it, then kisses Stede’s warm fingers.
‘Stede?’ The same person knocks on the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt -’
‘Come in, Lucius,’ Stede calls as Ed stands and brushes down his tuxedo trousers.
The man who comes in goggles at Ed but addresses Stede. ‘Stede, the party’s about to start.’
‘Excellent,’ says Stede. ‘We’re on our way. This is Ed, by the way.’
‘Hi Ed,’ says Lucius, eyes enormous.
Ed grins at him like a shark and shakes his hand. Stede stands and gives Ed a radiant look, then offers him his arm; Ed takes it and, despite all he knows about the future, feels like he’s floating on a cloud all the way downstairs. They enter the party together, and Stede keeps his hand over Ed’s as they walk through the crowd. Ed’s struck by how wildly joyous it already feels in here, even though things have just begun. Stede leads Ed to a table near the back, where the entire floor is visible and the live music isn’t too loud. Someone sends them champagne and Stede toasts in their direction and then tips his glass against Ed’s.
‘To you,’ he says quietly to Ed.
‘To you ,’ Ed says, and then leans in and kisses Stede right after he finishes his first sip. Stede’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth tastes like champagne and it’s so sexy that Ed has to grip the table with his free hand. Stede’s hand settles over his and Stede squeezes their fingers together before bringing them down to rest them on Ed's leg.
They sit together, thighs pressed close underneath the table, hands joined, sipping their champagne as all manner of people come by the table to speak with Stede like he’s a king at his court. Stede seems to know everyone in the room, and has something to say to each of them.
Ed feels so many fucking things, all at once. Stede’s leaning forward, speaking to a woman with an eye patch dressed in an immaculately tailored tuxedo, Stede’s face flushed and his curls slightly askew, and Ed looks at him and feels such a lurch in his chest that he clenches his hand. Stede looks at him quickly, a question in his face, and the woman sees Stede look and smiles, then says, ‘I’ll leave you to your handsome gentleman.’
Stede blushes and says, ‘Lovely to see you, Evelyn.’
‘Sorry,’ Ed murmurs to Stede, suddenly shivery with feeling. The room is hot in his tuxedo and his cheeks are flushed from the champagne.
‘It’s all right,’ Stede says. He smiles at Ed and says softly, ‘We’ve had quite a twenty four hours, haven’t we?’
It occurs to Ed that Stede is comforting him. He wants to put his face into Stede’s neck and never leave. Stede must see something in his expression, because he murmurs, ‘ Are you all right?’
‘Just feeling a little warm,’ Ed says. It would not do to blurt out, just falling hopelessly in love with a man I absolutely cannot have . ‘Do you want to dance?’
Stede’s giving him a look he can’t interpret; Ed thinks it looks hopeful but maybe a little scared. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘No one’s ever asked me to dance before,’ Stede says, and stands, letting Ed lead him by the hand onto the floor.
‘Everyone else is an idiot,’ Ed replies, and tugs Stede close. He doesn’t have any idea how to do any dance of the 1930s, but he’s pretty good at improvising. Stede guides their hands into place and then they're moving together, and it feels completely natural to follow Stede's lead. The first song - fast paced and fun, everyone around them sweating and laughing - ends, and Stede doesn't let go of Ed, and they keep dancing through several more songs, getting closer and closer together with each one. Ed starts to want Stede with an ache low in his stomach, a feeling he's not had about another person in a long time. Stede's curls have escaped all attempts to control them and his cheeks are gloriously flushed; Ed has a vision of how Stede would look in bed and nearly swoons.
'Drink?' Stede asks him.
Ed nods. They keep their hands laced together as they cross the room, and then Stede puts his hand on the small of Ed's back when they get up to the bar. 'Jim!' Stede calls to the bartender, a slender person who carries themself with incredible grace and is dressed immaculately in a three piece suit. 'Drink for me and my gentleman please?'
My gentleman , fuck, Ed's never going to leave this man, his head is swimming with the lights and sound and warmth, and most of all Stede, who darts him a look, like it's unbelievably bold that he called Ed that. Ed leans into Stede's space and presses their mouths together. Stede makes that little noise again and clutches Ed. Ed clutches back. He adores that Stede seems to have exactly as much chill about this as he does.
Jim hands them each some kind of sparkling cocktail. They tap glasses and drink; it could be time chamber lubricant for all Ed knows, because the band has just started to play something slow and sultry and Stede's looking at Ed like he wants to eat him. Ed drains his glass and tugs Stede in close, looping his arms around Stede's neck and swaying them together while Stede finishes his drink in one gulp, giggling in Ed's arms.
'That drink was for sipping,' Jim says, but Ed thinks they're not really offended. He can see them giving Stede an exasperated but fond look.
'Dance with me to this one?' Ed asks, looking into Stede's eyes.
'God yes,' Stede says, shivering.
The song is not a genre Ed's familiar with, but he can feel it in his hips, in the slow sway of Stede's body against him. Gay clubbing in the 2190s has nothing on this, or at least, nothing on the company. Ed presses his lips into Stede's neck, just below his ear, and gets a little moan out of Stede.
‘Upstairs,’ Ed suggests. ‘Now?’
‘Yes, please,’ Stede says. ‘Let me just -’ He reaches out for the arm of one of his employees passing by them with a tray of empty glasses. ‘Oluwande, can you handle getting things shut down here?’
Oluwande looks at Ed, raises his eyebrows at Stede, and grins. ‘Sure can. Have fun, boss.’
Ed kisses Stede all the way up the stairs. Stede makes needy little noises against Ed’s mouth, his hands clutching at Ed’s arms and waist like he thinks Ed will disappear if he lets go. At the moment, Ed has no intention of going anywhere without Stede ever again, centuries between them be damned. They crash into the apartment door, Ed pressing Stede into the wood and running his hands up Stede’s shirt, tugging open buttons and slipping a hand inside to pinch one of Stede’s nipples - Stede gasps and wraps a leg around Ed’s shin - Ed rubs the nipple with his thumb and Stede throws his head back against the door so hard that it swings open and they stumble inside.
‘Bed?’ Ed suggests.
‘God, Ed, really?’ Stede asks.
Ed looks at him. Stede’s got that scared look on his face again. It hurts. ‘Stede,’ he says. ‘I want you.’
‘But you’re -’ Stede gestures helplessly at Ed.
‘And you’re,’ Ed says, raising his eyebrows and gesturing back at Stede. He forgets he’s not in the 22nd century and adds, ‘I want to make you come until my name’s the only one you know.’
Stede’s eyebrows shoot up and he swallows. ‘You’re going to,’ he says. ‘Maybe right now.’
‘Bed,’ Ed says. He remembers his insertion suit at the last second. ‘Give me a minute, all right? Just want to freshen up.’
Stede nods and lets go of Ed, his hand trembling. Ed catches it and kisses Stede’s fingers. ‘I’ll be quick.’
‘Yes, darling,’ Stede murmurs, and then leans in and kisses Ed’s lips gently. ‘I’ll be thinking of you.’
In the washroom, Ed tugs off his tuxedo and insertion suit and carefully folds the former to hide the latter, placing them on the window seat. He feels strange without it - he's never taken it off in his non-native time. Then he washes himself and returns naked to find Stede lighting dozens of candles.
Stede turns and sees Ed and his face goes still.
‘You have a lot of tattoos,’ he whispers.
Ed steps close to him and takes his hand. ‘You can touch them,’ he says, and Stede does, hand shaking. Ed draws it to his mouth and kisses Stede’s fingers, one by one, then moves to finish undressing him.
They fall into Stede’s bed in a tangle of naked limbs. Ed straddles Stede and kisses his face and neck until they’re red from his stubble. Stede gasps and arches up into Ed’s mouth, fingers grabbing for purchase on Ed’s back.
‘What can I do for you?’ Ed whispers. ‘Anything. I want to make you feel so good.’
‘God, Ed,' Stede shuts his eyes. 'Will you touch me? There’s some oil in the drawer -’
Ed reaches over and pulls open the drawer, finding the little glass bottle. It feels delightfully quaint compared to the massive tube of lube he keeps in his place.
His place. Back home. Where Stede will never -
Ed shuts that thought down, hard . He opens the jar and slicks up his fingers. ‘What do you like?’
‘You,’ Stede says instantly. Ed looks down at him and in the flickering candlelight, Stede’s face is so open and sincere that it makes Ed take in a sharp breath.
He bends down and kisses Stede’s mouth, slowly, tenderly. ‘God, I like you so much,’ he whispers into Stede’s lips.
‘Please,’ Stede whispers, and it’s not until later that Ed will realise that Stede was pleading with Ed to be telling the truth.
Now he slides his fingers down the crease of Stede’s ass. Stede shivers and lets his legs fall to the sides, open, showing such perfect trust that it takes Ed’s breath away. He circles Stede’s rim and Stede makes a little gasping noise and clutches Ed’s arm.
‘Okay?’
‘Yes,’ Stede whimpers, and Ed presses one finger into him, so, so slowly into that tight heat. Stede’s fingers tighten on Ed’s arm, his short, blunt nails digging into Ed’s skin.
‘Good?’
‘God, yes.’
Ed starts to fuck his finger in and out, and Stede’s breath goes ragged. Ed’s enamoured of the noises Stede’s making; he grinds his hard cock against Stede’s leg and Stede gasps.
‘Ed, what about you?’
‘Let me take care of you,’ Ed says. ‘I want to.’ He kisses Stede's stomach. 'I see how you take care of everyone here. So let me take care of you.'
Stede takes in a sharp breath. 'Thank you. For seeing that.'
Ed bends down to Stede's dick - it's gorgeous, hard and curved and velvet heavy when he gets it on his lips. He sucks it into his mouth greedily, lapping at its length and running his tongue under the head while still fucking Stede with his fingers. Stede makes a beautiful noise, a gasp and moan that urges Ed on until he's close to gagging around Stede and Stede's hands are in his hair and on his shoulders and then Stede gasps, 'Oh Ed lovely you're so lovely I'm going to -'
Ed sucks him through his orgasm, then continues gently licking him until he's shivery and twitching and softening in Ed's mouth. Ed slowly disengages his fingers and wipes them on the edge of the sheet, then slides up Stede's body. With all the candles, the room has gotten warm; Ed reaches overhead and unlatches a window, opening it and letting in a cool breeze. Stede reaches for Ed and tugs him down on top of his body, then kisses him deeply. Ed licks into Stede's mouth, his jaw sore and lips a little numb from Stede's dick.
'Ed, right?' Stede murmurs.
Ed rears back to look at Stede. He's heavy lidded but wearing a little grin. 'Only name you know?' he checks.
'Only one,' Stede agrees, and then flips them and slides down Ed's body to take Ed's cock in his mouth.
***
Ed wakes up early with Stede draped around him.
He’s desperately horny. Still mostly asleep, he reaches for the little jar of oil and gets himself ready just in case Stede wakes and maybe, just maybe wants Ed as much as he wants Stede.
Without meaning to, he arches back against Stede and whimpers.
‘Ed, darling?’
‘God, Stede, I woke up and I needed you.’
‘Wow,’ Stede says in Ed’s ear, voice deep and sleep rough, and Ed shivers and clutches at Stede’s thigh. Stede's fingers find Ed's between his legs and Stede makes a little moan of approval against Ed's neck before his fingers move around to Ed's hip and position him just so. Ed gasps as Stede presses inside of him, the full length of him hot and hard already. Stede fucks him slowly, precisely, one hand on Ed's hip holding him in place.
The way Stede fucks him takes Ed apart. He feels encompassed by Stede, held so close against the other man's body, like Stede means to never let him go, until Ed's a shaking, moaning mess, his dick so hard and leaking that he thinks he could come without touch - and then Stede's hand on his hip crosses his body and takes Ed's dick in his hand and strokes him until -
Ed's not sure he's ever come at the exact same moment as another person. One minute he's on the precipice - he can feel it coming, feel it roaring up to him, with that perfect relief that he found it - and the next moment he realises that Stede is saying his name over and over, fucking Ed so frantically and erratically that he must be there too - and that shoves Ed off the ledge and into a rolling, full body orgasm that lasts for several waves.
When his consciousness ebbs back, Stede is wrapped tightly around him.
Ed bursts into tears.
'Oh fuck, oh my god, I'm so fucking sorry,' he chokes out, 'this is so fucking embarrassing,' but Stede shushes him and holds him with that same intensity, and a barrier breaks open in Ed's chest and he starts fully sobbing.
He feels safer here than he ever has in his life, in a place that will disappear in a few months at best, with a man who is almost certainly going to die in a brutal fashion hundreds of years before Ed is even born.
Stede shifts them so that their bodies separate, and then tugs Ed around so that he's lying on Stede's chest and Stede is stroking his hair. Stede holds him through it, until Ed can breathe again without choking on misery.
'Oh darling,' Stede murmurs against Ed's head. 'You're so lovely.'
Ed presses his face down into Stede's chest and breathes in Stede's scent. 'Stede,' he tries, but then they hear a knock.
'That'll be my secretary,' Stede says softly. 'You stay here as long as you like. I'll be back.'
Ed curls onto his side and buries his face in Stede's pillow. He hears Stede go out into the next room and the door shut, and then -
'Oh my god, who's the handsome man and is he still in your bed?'
'Hush, Lucius!'
'So he is still in your bed,' and then the voice drops. Ed manages to grin into the pillow. He hears the two of them talking, and then a third voice briefly, and then he hears Stede say, 'Wait, I have some laundry for you.' There's several minutes of silence and Ed wonders what Stede is thinking. Does Stede want Ed gone? After all, he did just burst into tears after having life-changingly good sex. Maybe Stede has sex like that every morning. Maybe Ed should just slip out the door right -
The bedroom door opens and Stede steps in quietly, wearing a yellow dressing gown. Ed rolls onto his side and smiles at him, helpless to do much else, before patting the space beside him on the bed.
Stede removes the dressing gown and crawls back under the sheets and into Ed's waiting arms. God, he fits perfectly against Ed's body.
‘Ed?’ Stede whispers.
Ed sits up on one elbow and traces a hand down Stede’s cheek. ‘Yeah, love?’
Stede looks at him with big eyes. ‘Who are you really?’
Ah. Yes. This problem.
‘I found a strange piece of clothing on my window seat,’ Stede says quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to snoop and I’m sorry for doing it. I wanted to get your clothing laundered for you. But. There was a little burn in it. Over the heart. Where a bullet would have gone.’
Ed’s stomach twists. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
Stede looks at Ed. His face is fragile, scared. ‘Ed,’ he says quietly, ‘I am doing my best to believe you. I want to believe you.’
Ed makes eye contact and realises: Stede needs Ed to be honest. Stede knows how much danger he’s in, running this club. Ed swallows, thinks of the rules of Time Jumping. He looks at Stede’s eyes and he imagines hurting him or even leaving him and he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. He starts to tear up again and has to take a deep breath.
‘Ed,’ Stede whispers. ‘Are you in some kind of trouble?’
‘Stede,’ Ed says, and stops.
‘Are you a spy?’
‘Stede, I promise you, I am not going to hurt you, or anyone here. I am going to protect you as much as I can. With my life if I have to.’
Stede reaches up and cups Ed’s cheek. ‘I believe you,’ he says.
‘I can’t say more,’ Ed whispers.
Stede nods, then takes a deep breath. ‘Now then,’ he says with a little tremble in his voice, ‘Roach brought us some breakfast and I’ve run a hot bath for you. Why don’t we go enjoy those things?’
Ed catches Stede’s hand. ‘How big is the tub? Want to try breakfast in the bath?’
The tub is not quite big enough, but by interlacing their legs and sitting facing each other with breakfast balanced on a chair beside them, it works. Ed sinks down into the water, holding his tea to his lips, and sighs at the luxury.
‘What’s on your agenda for the day?’ he asks Stede.
‘There's no events at the club tonight,’ Stede says. He’s sunk into the water almost to his nose, his hair slicked back on his head. ‘So, I’ll catch up on correspondence but really - I don’t have too much to do. And you?’
Ed shrugs. He’s going to lie and Stede knows it. ‘Business. Lunchtime meeting.’
Stede nods and rises slightly out of the water to take a sip of his tea. ‘And how long are you planning to stay in Berlin?’ he asks, voice careful.
Ed knows what he has to say, and out of bed, he can make himself say it. ‘Not long,’ he says, very gently. ‘It’s a bit open-ended but - not more than a few days.’
Stede looks out the window. ‘And then - back to Paris?’
‘Not sure,’ Ed says, and then amends, because he is trying very hard to be as honest as he can. ‘I don’t think so. I travel a lot.’
‘Back to Berlin any time?’
Ed hesitates. He wants - god he wants - but - ‘No,’ he says. He watches Stede swallow, the long line of his neck bobbing in the grey light from the window. Ed’s heart aches. ‘I don’t spend much time in Europe,’ he says, truthfully.
‘Shame,’ Stede says, very quietly, and then he turns towards Ed with a bright smile. ‘Well. You are of course welcome to stay here as long as you like and to - and to call here if you come back.’
‘Thank you,’ Ed says, sincere. He swallows. ‘I won’t be back though. And when I leave - I won’t be able to say goodbye. I’ll just - I’ll just be gone.’
Stede nods and returns to looking out the window. It occurs to Ed that Stede might think this is a rejection, so he says, ‘Stede.’
‘Hm?’
‘Hey,’ Ed says, and reaches for him. Stede gives him a startled look. Ed tugs him around and into his arms, aligning their bodies and wrapping Stede close against him, Ed’s chest to Stede’s back. ‘I can’t,’ he says into Stede’s hair. Stede’s breath hitches and Ed adds, ‘Please believe me, even though I’ve just met you, I think I’m going to regret saying goodbye to you forever.’
Stede makes a miserable noise. ‘We don’t have to say goodbye. We could - we could plan to meet up somewhere. I travel frequently, Ed, I could come to where you’d be -’
Ed presses his face into Stede’s hair and Stede stops talking. ‘If you want me to go now,’ Ed says quietly, ‘I will, Stede. If it’s less painful to you.’
Stede raises his hand and clasps Ed’s where it rests over his shoulder. They sit in the hot bath in silence for a moment. Then Stede says, ‘My wife and I - we didn’t have a good relationship. I think you can imagine why not. The night I left her, well, we’d had a disastrous day of giving each other anniversary gifts that didn’t match each other at all. I’d really tried to get her something that I thought would fix our marriage and she hated it. So I decided I was going to leave her, and I did it in the most cowardly way imaginable - I wrote her a letter, and I left in the middle of the night. I regret it deeply, now, but, well…’ Stede takes a deep breath. ‘Before I left, Mary made a last ditch effort to save our marriage. She said something to me that has stuck with me ever since. She said, “all we have is this one life”. She meant it like, why don’t we try to be happy together, knowing we only have this one life? But I took it to mean, why don’t we try to be happy however we can, even if that means leaving?’ Stede squeezes Ed’s fingers. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is - I’m going to grasp the happiness that you bring me. Even if it’s just for a few days.’
Ed inhales sharply. ‘Stede,’ he murmurs, and kisses Stede’s hair. Stede twists in his arms and looks at Ed for a long moment before kissing his mouth. Ed strokes Stede’s cheek with one hand and keeps gripping Stede’s fingers with the other, and then he comes to a decision.
The mission’s fucked already. Ed’s probably fucked too when he gets back to the Time Jump Division and can’t explain why he didn’t immediately extract once he saw the date on the newspaper. But. He can protect Stede, maybe. He can try.
‘Stede,’ he says quietly. ‘You asked me earlier if I’m a spy. I’m - I’m going to try to be as honest with you as I can be here. There are going to be things I simply cannot tell you. But. I’m not a spy, but I’m something like a spy, so it might be best to think of me that way.’
Stede’s eyes go wide. ‘For which side?’ he asks.
‘Neither,’ Ed says. ‘Like I said, I don’t come to Europe much. The thing I’m doing - it’s - it’s beyond European politics.’
Stede’s eyebrows raise. ‘Ed, don’t tell me anything that would get you into trouble.’
‘I’m already in trouble,’ Ed admits. ‘And I’m telling you because - well, lots of reasons. Mostly because I want you to understand that I’m not leaving you because I want to. But also because you’re involved in it in a way that I don’t understand, and maybe we can help each other.’
Stede sets his jaw and nods. ‘Ed, I’ll help you any way I can.’
‘My mission is to find Chauncey Badminton and bring him back to where I’m from for justice,’ Ed says. ‘I can’t go into his crimes, but trust me that it’s the right thing to do.’
Stede laughs. ‘He did try to kill me.’
‘Number one on my list, sweetheart,’ Ed says and kisses Stede’s fingers. Stede sucks in a little breath and Ed kisses them again. ‘So. I got on that train in Paris expecting to look for a criminal from another place. I didn’t expect to see him try to kill someone in Paris. And then for that someone to know Badminton from childhood. That part is particularly interesting to me - my people don’t have much information on him, which is weird - I’ve been with this, this mission for nearly 30 years and we almost always know a lot about who we’re looking for. And then I tracked him to a hotel last night and he met with this short guy who I guess is native to Berlin, but that also doesn’t make sense to me, because what I’m interested in him for has absolutely nothing to do with European politics at all. It’s like he has two separate things going on - whatever has to do with you, and the short guy, and then what he has to do with my mission. And I can’t tell if one’s a cover for the other and if so which is the cover and…’ Ed shakes his head. ‘It’s doing my head in, to be honest.’
Stede purses his lips. ‘The water’s getting cold,’ he says. ‘Why don’t we go - go surveil him?’
Ed looks at Stede. The man looks determined. ‘I’m not sure he knows what I look like,’ Ed says. ‘I don’t know if he would recognise me from the train platform or if he was too busy paying attention to you. But if he sees me with you, he’ll - I don’t know.’
‘I could be a good cover for you,’ Stede says. ‘Chauncey knows I’m gay, he knows I run a nightclub, and he holds me with the deepest disregard. Anyone seen in my company, he’ll probably dismiss on principle.’
Ed cocks his head. ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ he says, and Stede breaks into a sunny smile.
***
Stede takes Ed on an unsuccessful tour of the various haunts of the British ex-pat community in Berlin in search of Badminton, a series of depressing, dark-wooded clubs and bars; each of them looks exactly like the kind of backroom where Ed imagines the entire sordid history of imperialism going down. Stede gets treated everywhere with cold civility, and Ed gets the feeling that most people think he’s Stede’s servant.
Fucking yikes, he hates Europe in the 20th century.
‘Let’s take a walk,’ Stede says, perhaps sensing how black Ed’s mood has become. He leads them into the tree-lined paths of the Tiergarten. It’s fully autumn, with blue skies and stunning leaves, but all Ed can think about is how the atmospheric carbon dioxide here is closer to 300 parts per million than 500 and how bleak Stede’s future is going to be.
‘Darling?’ Stede asks, very quietly. ‘Do you want to - want to talk about it?’
‘Sorry,’ Ed says. ‘Just - I hated those clubs.’
‘They’re horrible, aren’t they?’ Stede sighs. ‘Maybe I’m lucky I’ve never been able to fit in places like that. Imagine if I liked them?’
Ed laughs. Without thinking, he reaches for Stede, then sees the other man freeze. ‘Sorry,’ Ed says quickly, recovering himself, though his fingers ache to be wrapped in Stede’s. ‘Forgot we were in public.’
Stede’s eyes are enormous. ‘Remarkable thing to forget,’ he murmurs.
‘You make me want to,’ Ed says, which is true, but also, he’s never lived in a world where he couldn’t touch a lover in public.
Stede’s blushing a little and looking at the ground. ‘Let’s - let’s get a coffee,’ he suggests.
‘Yes,’ Ed agrees. ‘Sorry,’ he adds.
Stede gives him an odd look and shakes his head. ‘No, it’s - don’t be sorry.’ He smiles with clear effort. ‘I’ve got a favourite cafe, let me take you there.’
The cafe faces an airport, with a clear view of the runway. Stede points to an area of construction and says, ‘They’re going to build a new terminal building soon.’
‘Holy shit,’ Ed says, pointing at - a fucking zeppelin. Just sitting on the runway.
‘Oh, yes,’ Stede says, smiling. ‘I think it’s on its way back from Rio.’ He gives Ed a hopeful look. ‘We are quite well connected for distant travel here,’ he says.
‘Not that well connected,’ Ed says, and looks down into his coffee.
‘Sorry,’ Stede says.
‘Nah,’ Ed says, ‘don’t be. Believe me. I want it too.’ He moves his leg slightly under the table and taps Stede’s foot. Stede draws in a sharp breath and looks out at the airfield, then taps Ed’s foot with his own.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and watching people bustle around the airfield. Then Stede gasps.
‘Ed, is that -’
Ed squints. There’s a familiar bald man walking across the runway, deep in conversation with someone else - a short man, presumably the one who he’d seen with Badminton last night. ‘Well, fuck,’ he says under his breath. His iris flashes red with warning and he remembers it doing the same thing on the train platform with sudden clarity. Fuck, he’s an idiot. It had been warning him about Chauncey fucking Badminton being there, not about a random guy with a gun.
‘Ugh,’ Stede says under his breath. ‘He’s with Israel Hands.’
‘Who?’
‘He’s another Brit who shows up in Berlin from time to time,’ Stede says. ‘Rarely, but, I know him from the ex-pat scene.’ Stede makes a face. ‘He’s -’
‘Wait,’ Ed says. His heart actually stops, then starts pounding. He’s squinting out at the runway, where Badminton and the small man are still talking. ‘Wait - Israel? Hands?’
‘You know him?’ Stede asks.
‘Fuck,’ Ed breathes. ‘He can’t - he can’t see me -’ But of course, Izzy knows Ed’s here - right? Or does Izzy think Ed’s in 1929?
What the actual fuck is going on?
Or does Izzy think Ed failed his mission in 1929, and something happened to Ed because he didn’t emergency extract immediately, and so now Izzy’s come to 1934 to grab Badminton -
But Izzy seems to be talking to Badminton. Not grabbing him. Not extracting him to take him in as a prisoner of war. They’re talking animatedly down on the runway, Izzy gesturing back towards the airport.
‘Ed?’ Stede asks quietly. ‘Do we need to go?’
‘I don’t fucking know,’ Ed says. ‘Fuck, I’m sorry Stede, I just need to -’ He looks down at the table and tries to take several deep breaths. Stede’s foot returns to his and the firm pressure of it grounds Ed instantly. He looks up at Stede and meets his hazel eyes. ‘I know that guy,’ he says as quietly as he can. ‘I want to know more about Hands.’
‘That man,’ Stede says under his breath, ‘well, Ed, I know you said you don’t get involved in European politics. But. I have seen him here before, going into the usual ex-pat clubs.’
‘You’ve seen him - often?’ Ed doesn’t understand.
‘No,’ Stede says. ‘Maybe twice or three times?’ He sighs and looks down at his hands. ‘I’ve tried to avoid all of them completely, you know,’ he says. ‘Just - just run my club and make sure people have a safe space and try not to draw unwanted attention to our community while still being welcoming. But the set of British men who were officers in the War and made it out alive is not large, and they all frequent the same places. No matter where I go - London, Paris, Berlin - I see them.’
‘But, Stede,’ Ed says. He feels like he’s losing his mind. He has to confide in Stede. ‘I’m - Izzy is on my side,’ he whispers. ‘I thought. Up until this very moment, I thought that.’
Stede’s eyes go huge. ‘A double agent?’ he whispers.
‘Fuck,’ Ed says. ‘He can’t see me, Stede.’
‘Bad news,’ Stede replies grimly, and Ed’s heart stops again. ‘They’re coming this way.’
‘C’mon,’ Ed says, standing up. Stede lays a collection of coins on the table and follows Ed but - fuck, Ed can see Badminton and Izzy will intercept them if they just walk out the front door. Stede’s stopped walking and is hovering nervously. Ed grabs him by the arm and drags him into the kitchen; a man frying eggs looks up, startled, and Ed says, ‘Sorry, just looking for the exit,’ as pleasantly as he can before shoving open the back door and dragging Stede out into the alley.
Unfortunately the alley is well within earshot of Badminton and - Ed feels a chill at one of the most familiar voices in his world - Izzy, who are walking past. On instinct, Ed drags Stede down into a crouch behind a pile of pallets.
‘I’ve got them moving on Bonnet’s club tonight,’ Badminton says. ‘We’ll smoke out Teach.’
‘It’s fucking weird,’ Izzy says. ‘Why hasn’t he tried to extract?’
‘No idea,’ Badminton replies, sounding bored. ‘Does it matter? Wasn’t the goal to get him here in the first place?’
Their voices fade away and Ed becomes aware that Stede’s arm is shaking under his hand. He manages to focus and sees Stede’s face is completely white. ‘My club,’ he mouths at Ed.
Ed’s stomach drops to his feet. ‘Stede,’ he mouths back. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Stede stands. Ed can see the panic in his face and for a moment he thinks Stede’s going to give in to it. He stands, too, and puts his hand on Stede’s shoulder, ready to catch him. Stede looks at Ed’s hand, then sets his mouth into a hard line and smoothes down his coat. ‘I’ve got to -’ He swallows and takes a deep breath, that hard line wobbling before he resets it. ‘Ed, can you help me?’
‘Anything,’ Ed says. Whatever is going on with Badminton and Izzy, Ed’s decided to bind his fate to Stede.
They go to Stede’s bank, keeping an eye out on every street for any sign of the other two. Stede requests to see the bank president. They’re led to an ornate office on the ground floor with a massive safe door taking up the back wall.
Ed recognises the president and thinks hysterically for a second that he’s someone from the 2190s too, but then realises that he’d seen him greeting Stede in the club last night.
‘I’d like to withdraw all my funds, Gustav,’ Stede says. There’s a little shake in his voice that makes Ed love him desperately.
‘All of them?’ Gustav asks, eyebrows raised.
‘Yes,’ Stede says. ‘Now, please.’
Gustav and Stede share a long, complicated look. Then Gustav says, ‘I take it you do not want it in Reichsmark.’
‘No I don't.’
‘Give me a moment,’ Gustav says. ‘I have to call in someone else to open the safe.’
Ed tenses, but Stede seems to accept this and nods. Gustav rings someone on a massive telephone - Ed marvels at 1930s technology - and a moment later, a manager appears with a key.
‘We will be giving Mr Bonnet gold,’ Gustav says to the manager, whose eyes flick to Stede before he nods.
‘Yes sir.’
It turns out that Stede’s fortune - or at least the part of it he keeps in Berlin - makes a remarkably heavy stack of gold one kilo bars. Stede and Ed share a look at the pile as the manager wheels it out of the safe.
Stede says imperiously, ‘Can you have a cart send it to my club, please?’
‘It is getting quite late tonight,’ the manager complains. ‘I don’t know where we could get a cart from.’
‘We can get a cart,’ Gustav says. The manager frowns, but disappears. Gustav steps closer to Stede and says, quietly, 'Decided it's time to get out?'
Stede nods once, sharply. 'Don't come by the club tonight,' he says quietly. 'Don't even walk by it.'
Gustav blanches. 'Be safe,' he says to Stede.
'You as well,' Stede replies.
The manager returns with a harassed looking driver; they and another bank employee load the gold into a cart and Stede gives them the address, then hails a cab back to the club for himself and Ed. It's nearly five in the afternoon, the sun dipping low in the sky, and Ed feels the northern hemisphere winter drawing close.
Stede directs the cart driver to get the gold into the club foyer, then he presses cash into the man's hand and sends him on his way. Ed can hear the sounds of Stede's employees getting ready for the evening through one door, and the sounds of the street outside through the other. They are alone in the small space and an electric lantern overhead illuminates Stede's golden hair. Ed steps close to Stede, who surges into his arms and kisses him fiercely.
'What's the plan here?' Ed asks softly, running the fingers of one hand through Stede's hair.
'You told me last night that nothing in Europe will be safe soon,' Stede says.
Ed nods. Suddenly the inner door swings open; Ed recognises the big man who had been acting as bouncer last night.
'Oh,' the man says, looking startled. 'Sorry, boss.'
'No,' Stede says, disentangling himself from Ed. 'John, can you help us bring this in?'
'What is this?' John asks. 'Gold bars?'
'Well spotted,' Stede says. John's eyes go wide.
Stede's employees look up as they enter. Ed sees Stede start to struggle with what to say and squeezes his arm.
‘The police are coming,’ Stede says, very quietly. Several of Stede’s employees grab onto each other; a few cry out in shock. 'There's enough in here that each of you can have twenty. Take them and,' Stede glances back at Ed, eyes darting to his before he says, ‘Use it to get out of - out of Europe. And if you go to Australia, find Mary Bonnet in Melbourne. Tell her you used to work for me. She'll see you right.'
'Stede,' Oluwande says, mouth hanging open. 'What are you-'
'I'm not joking,' Stede says. 'They're coming tonight. I don't know how soon. Go. All of you. Now.'
‘What about you?’ asks Lucius.
‘I’ll get him out,’ Ed says. He breaks open the first box and starts lifting out the bars. ‘Listen to Stede. Seriously. Get the fuck out of here, now.’
The thing is, Ed realises, there's only enough gold for Stede's staff. Stede disappears upstairs as soon as the staff starts moving, and Ed thinks he must have more stashed up there, but when he follows him - after all the gold is gone, after all the staff have tearfully departed - he finds Stede sitting alone at his desk, a folded letter in his hands with a lot of postage on it, staring blankly at the wall.
'Stede?'
Stede's eyes focus on him. 'Ed,' he says.
'What's your plan here, love?' Ed's starting to feel panicked.
'I'm going to face the consequences,' Stede says, voice shaking.
'Consequences for what?' Ed demands.
Stede takes a deep breath. 'I left my family,' he says. 'I - I accidentally killed Chauncey's brother. In the war.'
'What?' Ed blinks.
'And,' Stede presses on, doggedly, 'I've dragged you into it too, and -'
'Stede,' Ed snaps, 'First of all, I chose this. I am choosing you .'
Stede looks up at him, eyes dazzling. 'But Ed -'
'Second of all, they're doing this because they're trying to find me. Badminton said it - they're trying to smoke out Teach. That's me. Ed Teach.'
Stede's mouth is hanging slightly open. 'But - I don't -' Something heavy crashes downstairs. Stede's eyes go wide. 'Ed, I don't want to die.'
'You're not going to. We're getting out of here,' Ed says.
'Wait,' Stede says. 'Ed - I have to post this letter. To my children. The post box is downstairs, in the courtyard…'
Ed grabs it. 'I'll take care of it,' he says. 'Get what you want to take.'
Stede swallows and looks around the room.
'One bag,' Ed says, and runs down the back stairs and into the courtyard to the building's post boxes. He stuffs the letter into it and spins to run back upstairs - directly into a black-shirted army officer.
'Fuck!' Ed yells, and punches the guy hard in the face before sprinting back up the stairs. They're running out of ways to go - he can see police have gotten into the club and hear things smashing - neighbours are opening their doors and staring out -
Ed finds Stede where he'd left him, standing in the centre of his office with a hand over his face.
'Ed, please go,' Stede says. 'Please. You can still escape.'
Ed won't accept this, he won't, he won't. He’s got one more idea.
He starts unbuttoning his shirt.
‘Ed?’ Stede asks. He sounds terrified and Ed can’t accept that either. ‘Ed, darling -’
‘Do you trust me?’ Ed asks.
There’s silence. Ed looks up from his buttons. Stede’s eyes are enormous. ‘Do you trust me, Stede?’
‘With my life, Ed.’
Ed nods, heart pounding. ‘Better alive than dead,’ he says.
He tears open the last few buttons on his shirt and grabs Stede, slamming him into the wall. He starts tearing at the buttons on Stede’s shirt and Stede makes a garbled sound and starts unbuttoning them himself, until Ed can see his exposed chest - Stede’s gasping - Ed presses his own chest against Stede, so that the insertion suit is touching them both, and he presses his lips against Stede’s for good measure, just in case this is the last time, and he extracts.