And we'll drink up the sun and we'll drink down the moon

What I did not plan to do with the end of my night was write very short fic for Jeannelle M. Ferreira's The Covert Captain (2018), but here we are: "Let the Neighbors Say Little or Much."

Technically it's a missing scene for a part of the canon that has yet to come into existence, but it's not a spoiler in light of Word of God in "St. Clair and Fleming Do the Blitz." I have just been calling it fluff in an orangery.

Written for selkie, of course. I apologized for taking one of her perfectly good characters and giving him asthma. It's been that kind of spring.

And we'd already have achieved it if everyone was as enlightened as me

If this spring were not this spring, I would have noticed sooner that today is Denholm Elliott's centenary and done something about it, but instead I coincidentally read the script of a play in which he originated a part—I had been looking for it for some time, having come to despair of ever seeing a production—and that will have to do. Have the cast of Twelfth Night of Stalag VIII-B, Elliott's Viola at center.