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There was, he felt, no way around this. Jeremiah was heading to the beach, to the place that he always expected to find Sunny, with the red leather case with flyers under an arm. (Someday he would go to that house to meet her, the one the rumors spoke of, but for now this place was preferred.)

While he knew, reasonably, he could probably walk around Ashdown until found himself in other ashdown he had no desire for the time that could possibly take.

Never mind the matter that his personal gun had still not shown up. (Personal only because it was his after so many years of owning it.)

Never mind the questions he wanted to ask.

Pulling his jacket tighter against himself, against the spray of the water and the chill that would not leave him, he headed towards that familiar bench. The calla lily he had found there that first night was now firmly part of his wardrobe.

Just another reminder that everything had changed.

Definitely not surprised that Sunny was there with his gun. Jeremiah looked down at her, an eyebrow raised, before he simply shook his head and took the gun.

Except that ...

His lips pressed together into a frown, eyes studying her. What had happened with him and Alg was ... "He's fine." An eye-roll. "Thanks for asking." Just roll with it Jeremiah. He was unbuttoning his coat, opening it so that he could slide the gun into his holster. The question about Algie was enough to distract him from immediately noticing it but now he couldn't miss it.

The clip was gone.

"The clip, Sunny?"

"What do you mean I never remember? I al -" Sunny cut him off with the appearance of the clip for his gun.

"... while I'm vaguely concerned about you and bullets, I know for a fact you don't need them to be ..." dangerous, he wanted to say but settled on, "you."

The clip was slid into place, the gun into its holster and back in place. Jeremiah was back to his full work attire with it back. He did not need the gun to do his job, preferred his job to not require it's use but it was a comfortable and familiar weight.

"It's harder to replace the clip than the bullets, so feel free to keep them." Sunny was given a measuring look. "Just don't expect me to supply you with them if you're trying to make a necklace or something."

"A hat." Jeremiah was giving her that deadpan stare, like he couldn't quite believe her. "Changed my mind, I'll bring you a box then later as a gift." He wanted to see this hat she was going to make.

The detective actually held a hand out to Sunny to help her to her feet if she needed. "Yes," he replied and meant it. As much as he had been warned, yelled at, or otherwise sternly talked to, Jeremiah trusted Sunny. It was a place he did not expect to be.

He even liked her.

"Today, not so much but in the future." Another measuring look. "Some day I'll come out here and sit and smoke with you."

Jeremiah gave her a look. Something sharp and penetrating but it softened eventually. Mostly because he had seen things already, that cigarette of hers in a place and time that was not this. It was enough to put ideas into his head that was not quite sure he was ready to admit but they were there all the same.

"You find happiness a little bit at a time." A huff. "I'm working on it." His head tilted, watching her as she scuffed her feet. Some part of him wanted to tell her that she would find happiness but it was hard to say when she had that look and then she was talking about the other place.

His fingers closed tightly around the red leather case. "I do but ..." Jeremiah focused on her. "Nothing is free and I already owe you."

That still did not sit right with him.

Even if it was her weird mood and she said it was on the house, it did not set right. Still the look on her face, the general mood around her, made Jeremiah not say anything. Instead he rubbed at the side of his neck and nodded.

"I do too," he admitted honestly, taking a step towards the door she had created. "... and thank you, I don't mean just for this," but for what she did while they were in Heliodora's demesne, "but ..." It should have felt awkward, this conversation. Instead it was a sense of deja vu but he could not say why.

"Thanks," Jeremiah repeated. Then, because he felt it needed to be said. "I'm still planning on bringing them home, Sunny." There had to be some way for it. Something, somehow. If there was a way, Jeremiah would find it. With a short nod of his head, he moved to step towards the door. At least it only looked like a light drizzle.

He should have brought Heliodora's umbrella with him.