Aberdeen didn’t much care for being alone these days. It wasn’t that she wanted to surround herself with people all the time, frequently she didn’t have the energy for that, but there was something about the quiet introspection that usually came with solitude that put her ever so slightly on edge. Looking up from the book she had been trying to distract herself with and gazing around the living room, walls now dotted with framed photos of Robin as if to keep them from forgetting what he looked like, she could understand fully why Luke had decided to start working from the office again. The couple had been informed that Luke had previously worked from home so as to care for Robin when Aberdeen had returned to Level Two, but now, in the empty house, that someone very important was absent was all too conspicuous.

They had spent much of the previous month trying to turn the little house back into Robin’s home. They’d replaced the toddler-sized furniture, and toys and books had flooded in from both Aberdeen’s and Luke’s families. Aberdeen barely ever spoke to her parents any more, but they had sent duplicates of every Christmas and birthday present they had ever bought for their grandson, even a set of baby bibs that would be far too small for a two-and-a-half-year-old. But despite all surface appearances to the contrary, this place wasn’t Robin’s home, not really. It wouldn’t be until they brought him back from wherever Cinaed Tawse was keeping him. And because it wasn’t Robin’s home, it wasn’t really Aberdeen’s or Luke’s either.

Aberdeen’s gaze fell on the clock above the mantelpiece, and furrowed her brow. Was that the time already? Luke usually finished work at five, she would have expected him to be home by now. Hell, they were expecting Jonas Trevelyan to call around any time now. They’d arranged for him to come over to see what kind of sketch Luke could come up with based on the fragmented memory Aberdeen had of the kidnapper’s face. She put down her book and was just reaching over for the phone sitting on the coffee table when she heard the key in the lock. Aberdeen rose and strode over to the front door, a quizzical expression on her face.

‘Anything wrong, sweetheart?’ she asked, automatically holding out her hand to take his work satchel. Luke gave her a tired but grateful look as he handed it over.

‘Had to stay late. Really sorry, but I had to,’ he started to explain, hanging his keys on the hook by the door and shrugging his coat off. ‘One of the files for our latest web commission got corrupted... Lost so much coding...’ He grimaced just at the thought of it, then peered into the living area. ‘He’s not here yet, is he?’

‘Nope, you’re all right.’ Aberdeen smiled fondly at him, realising how glad she was to see him, and leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll go put this in the study,’ she said, holding up the satchel. ‘Is your sketchbook in there?’

‘Top drawer of the computer desk, thanks darling,’ Luke replied, making for the comfy armchair as his wife padded into the study. He had only just sunk into the cushions, though, when the doorbell chimed. Making such a quiet moan that the normal human ear would strain to hear it, he hauled himself up again and strode back to the door. Removing the harried, worn out look from his face as best he could, Luke pulled the door open and offered a courteous smile to the gentleman on the doorstep. ‘Evening! Come on in-- how are you?’

It had been another long day at the Ministry, and it had taken some effort to wrap things up quickly enough that he could get to the Adanis' home on time.  The werewolf attacks of the day before had left most of the government scrambling.  Level Two were forced to pitch in and do what they could to assist the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in subduing werewolves, registering victims, and tallying the dead.

Jonas hadn't been involved in any of the fieldwork - Tamis, it seemed, was serious about not letting him near anything dangerous in the field - but there had been plenty of slack to pick up at the office.  Added on top of it was the recently begun surveillance on Azize Mulogo, which Jonas still half-expected that Dreogan Eleor would murder them for.  Adon had let him beg out of the evening's detail; 'I'd planned to meet with Spencer' was apparently the magic word as far as his new partner was concerned.

The red-haired man ran his hands over his face as he stopped in front of the door.  Taking a deep breath, he gathered himself and reached out to press the doorbell.  A moment later, half of the couple that lived inside the house had opened the door and invited him in with a greeting.

"Still alive," he replied cheerfully, extending a hand for Luke to shake as he stepped inside.  He hadn't had much direct interaction with the graphic artist aside from their first encounter in the hospital, but he seemed as decent and level-headed as his Muggle-born wife.  Both Adani and Spencer were obviously doing what they could to hold things together in a difficult time.  "Alright yourself, mate?"

"Tonight still a good time to meet?" he asked, doing his best to keep any hint that he hoped that it wasn't from his expression.  It wasn't the Adanis' fault that working for the Ministry seemed to require long day after long day.  "I didn't know if you two were involved in any of that debacle yesterday.  We can put this off if the weekend would be better."

Luke shook Trevelyan's hand firmly and nodded at the red-haired fellow. The investigator-- or auror now, was it?-- seemed amenable enough. Luke reckoned on instinct that he should be easy enough to get along with. He knew only what his wife had told him of Trevelyan, and that description was mostly along the lines of 'good at what he does'. But though Aberdeen spoke well of him professionally, she was thus far rather more tight-lipped on the subject of what she thought of Trevelyan personally. Luke had an inkling she wasn't sure what to make of him yet, but maybe she'd come around soon. She'd been a bit uncertain about Adon Eleor back when they were first partnered up, after all, and he'd grown on her.

'Debacle?' A confused expression crossed Luke's face, closely followed by a look of startled recollection. 'Oh! The werewolf attacks!' Aberdeen had mentioned them to him that morning, though they hadn't had a great deal of time to discuss it before he had left for work. 'Oh, and of course, you're with Level Two now, so Aberdeen tells me... Is tonight going to be okay for you, Mr Trevelyan? I mean, it'll be fine for us, things've been quiet on our end, fortunately, but if you're snowed under with work at the moment...'

Luke gave Trevelyan a concerned look, then glanced back over his shoulder to the ajar door to the study, behind which he could hear Aberdeen rummaging around, no doubt in search of his sketchbook. 'Though we can at least offer you a cup of tea, seeing as you've come all the way here already? Or coffee?' Luke wasn't sure why, but he had an image of everyone who worked in Magical Law Enforcement being coffee drinkers. (Probably because it was richer in Vitamin C. C for caffeine.)

"Yeah, tea'd be grand, thanks," Jonas replied, giving the other man a smile before turning his attention carefully to the interior of the house.

An individual's living space always said a good deal about them, whether they meant it to or not.  But the noticeable bits in this home - the obviously Muggle atmosphere, the pictures of Robin that had been set out on almost every available space - did not tell him much beyond what he had already known.  This was a couple grieving, still not sure what to make of the enormous hole that they'd suddenly discovered existed in their family.  A heavy pang of guilt threatened to rise in his stomach as Jonas studied a picture of the toddler with his parents.  He stopped it cold - feeling remorseful was not a part of the business-like, professional attitude that he took care to put on around the Adanis.

"Naw, this is a part of the work too, innit?" Jonas asked cheerfully, preferring to drift towards the kitchen after Luke in lieu of having to wait in the entryway.  Even if he came across as obnoxiously friendly, he'd choose that over having to deal with photograph after photograph staring back at him. 

"Besides, Anna took the kids out for the evening, and I think Eleor'd have me head if he heard that I tried to beg out of anything," he added amiably, tucking his arms against his chest.  As much as he liked the Israeli, he had no doubt that Adon wouldn't hesitate to clobber his head against a wall if he thought that Jonas was avoiding the case again.  The younger man was nothing if not upfront in his expectations.  "Since we've got the date set, I'd rather see what we can come up with.  Reckon it'd be nice if a lead came out of it."

Luke grinned widely when Trevelyan mentioned 'the kids'-- so their associate in this retrieval mission was a family man himself! Maybe that went part way to explaining why he had allowed himself to be roped into the investigation. (Well, that, and the fact that Aberdeen might have inadvertently guilted him into it. She'd said she hadn't meant to, but there really wasn't a feasible way to enlist the help of someone partially (though unwittingly) responsible for a child's disappearance without guilt being involved. Such was life.)

Switching on the already-full kettle and opening the cupboard to search out the teabags, Luke nodded intently at Trevelyan's last remark. 'A lead's what we're hoping for, believe you me. But we've got... reservations about getting our hopes up.' Setting the tea tin down on the counter, he turned to reach down some mugs. 'I can draw faces realistically enough, that won't be a problem-- er, not to blow my own trumpet, mind,' he added with a self-effacing chuckle. 'But I'm not sure how much Deen can really remember, well, obviously, given the circumstances.' A dark look flitted very briefly across Luke's face. Understandably, he hated Memory Charms. 'She remembers more than me, but then, that's not saying much-- oh, 'scuse me a sec.'

Shuffling past Trevelyan back to the doorway, he leaned back out into the hall and called, 'Deen! Mr Trevelyan's here!' just in case she hadn't heard him answer the doorbell. He heard a muffled, 'Just coming,' in response, and ambled back into the kitchen. 'She's just looking out something to draw on,' he explained. 'Oh, take a seat if you'd like,' he added gesturing the chairs by the kitchen table while he himself leaned against the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil. Aberdeen could have boiled it in a second, of course, but it rarely occurred to Luke to use magic for such mundane things. 'You said you had kids?' he couldn't resist remarking. He was one of those people who simply didn't tire of hearing about other people's children. There was something vicarious in it these days, as though it better reminded him that he himself was a parent. 'I didn't know that.'

Jonas took the chair without hesitation, though he managed to avoid letting out a sigh of relief as he lowered himself carefully to sit, dropping his messenger bag to the ground next to him.  "Well, not really the conversation topic you bring up when you're in the middle of a kidnap case, is it?" he asked matter-of-factly, stretching his leg out under the table as he rubbed his knee.  "Yeah, we've got two.  Gwenna's ten and Artie's almost six.  And just Trevelyan is fine," he added easily.  "Or Jonas, if you want to be informal.  Reckon there's no need for honorifics if we're going to make a go at this."

Forensic art was not something that he knew a great deal about, but it seemed straightforward enough: ask detailed questions and use photographs to get as close as possible to a composite sketch of the suspect.  Jonas had managed to pick up a book on it (although the visual reference to an American crime drama show on its cover did not add to the volume's credibility), and had grabbed a few magazines earlier that week.  He pulled them out of his bag now, lining them up one next to the other on the table in front of him.

"And yeah, reckon I can understand not wanting to get your hopes up," he admitted, as he added one of his usual notebooks and a pen to the lateral arrangement.  "But anything that we can get out of all this will be helpful.  If the sketch proves to be beyond us, even a few small details'll be more than we had before."  He wasn't about to admit to either Adani or Spencer that he vaguely had one individual in mind, but it would be worth evaluating at the end to see if anything matched up.

"Some memory charms can break down over time," he informed the other man, uncapping the pen.  He did a quick scribble test on the cover of the notebook; after a few sharp lines, it left a dark enough mark to be considered satisfactory.  Jonas leaned back in the chair, looking back to Luke.  "So we'll talk through it all and see if anything new turns up.  You ever done a drawing like this from a description before?" he asked thoughtfully.  "I reckon it's got to be a bit like web design, if that's what you're usually managing.  Getting the particulars right based on what someone has said."

Luke had to give another pleasantly surprised smile. Aberdeen had mentioned to him that Jonas Trevelyan was muggleborn, so it made sense that he'd know what Luke's job entailed; what impressed Luke was that he'd remembered what he did for a living. It wasn't as though it was all that relevant to the case, after all. 'That's pretty much on the money,' he replied. 'As it happens I have got a bit of experience with faces. Not so much with the web stuff-- now and then, but it's pretty rare, and even then it's stylised-- but back before the company I work for settled on web design, we did a few book covers. Faces came up more often with those. "Good start, but could the nose be a touch longer, and the ears should stick out a bit more..." ' He chuckled. 'People know what they want.'

The kettle switched itself off as the water came to the boil. 'Speaking of,' Luke said, as he tossed a couple of teabags into the teapot and poured the water, 'how d'you take your tea? Milk, sugar? Or sweeteners, I know we've got some of those from when Gwen visited... Gweneth,' he clarified, recalling the auror's daughter had a similar name, 'Deen's sister.' He continued to bustle about with the various tea accoutrements.

'Mr Trevelyan,' came a voice from the door. Aberdeen sloped in, sketchpad and pencils in hand. 'Or Trevelyan, I should say,' she added. It paid to have good hearing, Luke supposed, even if one wasn't an auror any more. He, meanwhile, had already started thinking of the chap as Jonas. He was a lot more comfortable with being on a first-name basis than his wife was.

'Glad you could find us okay,' Aberdeen was saying. 'Sorry for the delay there, Luke's pencils had gone walkabout.' She gave the case containing them a small, accusatory shake. 'And no good using a Summoning Charm in there, not if you want the computer in working order. Learned that the hard way,' she added with a grimace, which Luke shared. As if his old computer hadn't been temperamental enough already... Still, at least that... incident had given him a reason to upgrade to a more cooperative model.

As Luke started pouring out the tea, Aberdeen slumped into one of the vacant kitchen chairs and set Luke's sketchbook and pencils on the table. As she did so, the book and magazines already occupying some of the space caught her eye. 'Oh, what's this you've brought?' she asked with a tone of idle curiosity, leaning over to take a look.

"Just as it comes is well, thanks," Jonas assured Luke, flashing the graphic designer a quick smile.

The woman's entrance caught his attention again.  He was not entirely certain where he stood with Aberdeen Spencer; as cordial as they might be to another, there was still a wary tension beneath every exchange.  It kept his manner more professional than it might have otherwise been, added an edge to his usual relaxed posture.  There were some things that neither of them were ever going to forget.

"Thought it all might be some help," he replied easily, nodding to the publications on the table.  "If we want to make a proper go at this, I reckon we ought to try and do it properly.  The pictures are for reference," he said, gesturing towards the magazines.  "We can use 'em to pick out bits - the eyes, the nose - that look close to what you remember.  With any luck, it'll give your husband a bit more to start with than just a description.  We can see where it takes us."

Jonas cleared his throat, glancing from Spencer to Adani.  This was the part that might be delicate to ask about.  In reality, he wasn't entirely sure that either of them would acquiesce to the suggestion, but for now, he was willing to take the risk and let procedure run a little loose if it meant furthering a hunch.

"If you both don't mind, though," he added, in a carefully nonchalant tone, "I think it might help us to start even a bit further back than that.  There's a lot that can help with identification besides just a face.  If we walk through any bits that either of you remember as carefully as we can, we might happen upon something that will be useful."

He shifted his gaze back onto Spencer.  "D'you have any inkling of where you were, precisely, in the bits that you remember?"

Aberdeen, who had given an approving nod in response to Trevelyan's reference magazines, following by an encouraging glance towards her husband, now sank into a more sombre expression. Not distressed, not particularly worried, even, but... very serious. She knew Trevelyan's idea was a sound one, even if she didn't want to go back there. And she really didn't. Because while there were some things Aberdeen wanted very dearly to remember... there were others she decidedly wanted to not.

Luke was still busying himself with the tea; to avoid having to offer his own response, Aberdeen suspected. Of course, by his own admission, Luke would be little help in recounting the events of that night. The sad thing about that was, though as much hadn't been said out loud, it was becoming rather obvious to Aberdeen that he wanted to remember that night, and it broke her heart just a little that Luke felt so helpless against the Memory Charm that he actually wanted so bad a memory back in his mind.

'Okay,' she began warily, drawing her mind back to the question at hand. 'Well first off, it was at night. I don't remember, not one hundred percent, that we were in bed at that point, but I think we can infer as much.' She drew a deep breath then exhaled, as though pacing herself, giving herself time to think. 'I... do remember it being dark in the room, vaguely. Must've just woken? Then there was a light on... I... must've switched on the bedside lamp. Stupid of me, I know,' she added with a faint look of self-disgust.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Luke had stopped moving around. She refrained from looking at him; she didn't want to make him feel self-conscious. 'Is... that the kind of thing you mean, Trevelyan?' she asked, brow furrowing slightly. 'Should I... keep going?'

The red-haired man leaned back in the chair, pen still on the table as he listened carefully to Spencer's words.  Across the room, Adani had gone still -- the Auror's husband was listening as well.

This was really the sort of thing where he ought to have separated the two.  Memory had a way of doing funny things to recollections, even when magic and obliviation weren't involved, and details from one witness's statement tended to bleed into another's, whether or not it was accurate.  The proper way to do this was to separate Spencer and Adani, to question one and then the other without giving them a chance to trade details, but the Aurors had already gone through the process with both parties.  Adani didn't remember anything.  If listening to his wife's recitation helped him recall a detail or two, the contamination might be worth it.

"Yeah, that's the sort of thing I mean," he assured her.  There were a million questions he would have liked to ask -- what time they usually went to bed, what sort of precautions they set around the house -- but now wasn't the time, and he already had a vague idea of their routine anyhow from his own surveillance. 

"So you switched on the lamp," he repeated thoughtfully.  The scene was easy to picture.  A darkened bedroom.  Some noise to wake her up.  Switching on the light.  Two years ago, it could have happened in his own home.  "What did you see?"

'The woman I mentioned to you before,' Aberdeen replied, keeping her face neutral but feeling rather unhappy just at picturing what little of the witch's face that she could remember. Stop that, now, she chided herself. She oughtn't let herself be distracted by emotion; quite apart from keeping her mind focused on remembering Robin's abductor (and, by extension, his abduction), she still had a lot of progress to make in occlumency, and letting her feelings bubble to the forefront of her mind certainly wouldn't help with that.

'It's really fuzzy still. Like a dream, you know? Just snippets of it... She was in the doorway, or at least I think she was... I get the weird feeling of there being someone else there, but, hell, I can't tell if that's just my imagination or not. She's the only one whose face I saw at least, best I can tell. There's this... feeling of danger...' She'd told much of this, or some variant thereof, to the aurors who had already interviewed her. It was frustrating how she hadn't become any more specific since then... Except for the woman's face. That had very gradually been getting clearer in her mind in the days since she had first met with Trevelyan, Colonel Kabir, Tulojow Nagde and Adon. It was as though her broken memory knew this was the most important thing to rebuild; the best lead to follow.

'Then I remember reaching for my wand, and... well. Being too slow.' Bitterness seeped into her voice at the last. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder; Luke had passed Jonas a cup of tea and was just setting Aberdeen's down in front of her. He said softly, 'You know we don't blame you. After all that had happened, you weren't--'

'It's okay Luke, you don't need to make excuses for me,' Aberdeen interrupted, her cool facade back in place as though the slip had never occurred. She did reach up and give his hand a quick squeeze though.

Refraining from saying anything further in front of company, Luke grabbed his own mug from the counter and joined his wife and the auror at the table. 'We figure we must've been knocked out.' It was much the same conclusion as the Auror Office had come to, if he remembered correctly. 'We woke up feeling groggy the next morning, thought we might both be coming down with something...' He didn't bother hiding how much this depressed him. Luke wasn't one to hide his feelings like Aberdeen. 'But... But the important thing is it's coming back, right? The memories-- for Aberdeen, at least? The woman's face?' He glanced hopefully towards the magazines Trevelyan had brought. 'Do you want to hear more about that, about what she looked like?' Luke evidently shared Aberdeen's eagerness in pursuing the only lead her memory was yielding to them.

Jonas accepted the cup of tea in both hands, taking a sip before setting it down on the table.  He listened quietly, watched silently as the couple interacted, Adani offering support to his wife as her mask slipped.  This session was as much about observing them as it was listening to what they had to say; the only way to figure out the right questions to ask was to put together what was happening behind the scenes.

Whoever had come in the middle of the night had done their work quickly.  Any memento of Robin had vanished -- pictures, toys, clothing, gone before Spencer or Adani woke.  But they had missed some key points.  The computer hadn't been touched.  And whoever had cast the memory charm had been far from an expert -- Jonas had done as much reading up on the spells as he could alongside his caseload, and a properly cast spell shouldn't be fading like this.

There were still pieces that didn't quite fit.  Tawse's Wizarding Blood Alliance had shown a knack for operating in the mundane sphere -- that was where they had grabbed Katz and imperiused Spencer.  They had even used Jonas to surveil the couple who lived mostly in the Muggle world, a fact which the former private investigator was steadily determined to ignore for the moment.  Why had they left the photos on the computer alone?  Either their Muggle expert had more limited knowledge than it seemed -- which was fairly likely, considering that digital pictures were a relatively recent development and wouldn't have been covered in Muggle Studies classes -- or she or he hadn't been present on this particular excursion.

Adani's voice startled him out of his thoughts.  "Yeah, let's get to it," Jonas agreed, reaching for the magazines.  "Madam Spencer, you want to try describing what you can remember, then I reckon your husband can try his hand at drawing it.  Just start general, and we'll try to get specific from there," he said, passing over the stack of glossy covers.  "Take it one feature at a time when you flip through.  You see a nose or a mouth that looks close, we can use it to put the pieces together."

Luke, starting to feel more encouraged by the idea of getting down to business, set his tea to one side and pulled his sketch pad toward him. He flipped it to a blank page as he glanced over at his wife, trying not to be too overt in reading her facial expression. She seemed to be all right for the moment. The frustration was back beneath the surface, at any rate. 'How about we start with the general shape of the face?'

As Luke picked up one of his pencils and rested it poised about the paper, Aberdeen reached out for the first in the stack of Jonas's magazines. 'Youthful-looking face,' she muttered and she leafed through the pages. 'I remember that much. Sort of... roundish, but not that round... Urgh, it's difficult to describe exactly... Oh! A little bit like this one, I think,' she said, pointing out a close up of one of the models shining up from the pages. 'Yes,' she reaffirmed, sounding a little more convinced now. 'Only the chin, the jaw was different... A little more angular...'

Luke studied the image for a moment, then started sketching, referring back to the source almost obsessively. He could work faster than this, he knew, and a part of him felt guilty for taking up Jonas's time with his excessively careful pencil-strokes, but he wanted to take the time to get this as close to the truth as possible. He knew it was for the same reason that Aberdeen was being as precise as possible, and lamenting her inability to make language translate her mental image accurately. Luke made a mental note to thank Jonas for thinking to bring the magazines. They were, he decided as he started altering the jaw as Aberdeen instructed, definitely an invaluable starting point.

'Hey Trevelyan?' Aberdeen said, still watching Luke draw. 'I know there's no guarantee that this little arts and crafts session will turn up anything, but... Once the sketch is done... How were we thinking of finding out if the face I remember is a real one? I've been wracking my brains for some kind of spell that'll help, but all I can think of is good old-fashioned legwork. You got people we can ask about this witch?'

The red-haired Auror had settled in his chair, waiting and watching silently as the other two conversed.  Judging by Adani's profession, the other man likely knew far more than he did when it came to translating a mental image into a visual one; there was little that Jonas could say or do to help the process. 

It was interesting enough to see the graphic designer at work.  Jonas stretched his legs out under the table, taking an occasional sip of tea as he watched the other man's careful, deliberate brush strokes.  At Spencer's words, he glanced up.

"Yeah, I've got some contacts," he agreed.  "Reckon we start out by assuming it's real.  Then we plow through every file Level Two have got by hand if we have to.  Look through old Hogwarts records," he suggested, counting off their options.  Ask about in Diagon or Knockturn.  Or publish it in the Prophet, although I'd rather hold off on that as long as we can.  No reason to tip anyone off that you're starting to remember bits and pieces."

There were times when it was useful to make someone nervous, but in this sort of circumstance, Jonas much preferred to lay the trap silently.  Tawse obviously knew they were after his son; there was no way that the former bar owner wasn't taking every precaution he could.  But given enough time, given enough lack of pressure, even Tawse would get lax. 

"Besides," he added, flashing Aberdeen a cautiously lopsided smile.  "The old-fashioned Muggle way of investigating works well enough for most of the world, doesn't it?  You Ministry lot get a bit too used to falling back on spells sometimes, if you want me thoughts on it.  It doesn't take a wand to do a proper job of it."

'Nah, potions are the best for investigation, everyone knows that,' Aberdeen quipped back, a wry smile playing about her lips. 'You're right of course. And don't you worry, I'm used to a little muggle-style legwork myself.' As she spoke, she continued to leaf through the magazines. She stopped when a particular photo caught her eye.

'This eye-shape,' she said, pointing out the headshot and glancing to Luke to make sure he saw. 'Maybe a tad bit wider set. Long lashes.' Aberdeen tended to notice the eyes more than other facial features. Aside from the occasional extenuating circumstance, she was the sort to look someone in they eye when she spoke to them.

'I'm with you on holding off on the Prophet as long as possible,' she added, turning back to Trevelyan. 'I'm starting to think one of the things we've got working in our favour is how low Tawse and his ilk's estimation of the likes of us is. They didn't send a memory expert, after all. They probably didn't consider a muggle-born and a muggle any kind of serious threat.' Her tone was deliberately light, but she didn't completely conceal the trace of disgust in it. After all, Trevelyan was muggle-born too. He was more likely to understand how she felt.

She looked over to see how Luke was doing with the sketch; as expected, an expression of intense focus was etched into his face. The pencil scratched over the page almost as if it were alive. Aberdeen's brow knitted together as she realsied that Luke had finished drawing the eyes and moved onto the nose, even though she hadn't described it to him yet. Perhaps he was sketching in the rough shape, ready to add the detail as she dictated? But no... The shape of the nose was becoming more definite as she watched the pencil marks darken the page.

'Luke? I... I haven't told you what--'

Luke shook his head, a small but frantic spasm of a movement, and Aberdeen noticed with a started that he was quivering. 'Luke?'

'Don't,' he uttered. His hand moved feverishly over the sketch pad. He had finished the nose and was moving onto the mouth. And it was her nose, almost exactly as Aberdeen remembered it. Even as the lips started to take shape, Aberdeen recognised them. The fullness of the lower lip, the somehow delicate look to the mouth, the way a hint of a smile lingered in the corner... Aberdeen looked back to Trevelyan as if about to say something, but couldn't think what to say. She stared at Luke, still sketching away as if nothing else existed.

Suddenly Luke stopped, staring at the page, his expression unreadable. Aberdeen found herself almost afraid to say anything, as though any sudden sounds would somehow stop him from remembering. She shot a glance at Trevelyan, silently urging him not to interrupt Luke's train of thought either.

Finally, Luke started to draw again, shading in one of the irises. He didn't look up from the page, but he did speak, he voice not quite quiet enough to disguise the way it shook. 'Heterochromia,' he said. 'When Aberdeen turned on the light, I saw her eyes, just for a moment. I think... I think they were different colours.'