So this definitely qualifies as a response to prompt the first, in some possibly non-canon but definitely far-in-the-future time, where the Detective has a Long-Awaited Meeting.

Note: this prompt features a much younger Tiger than any of the previous ones, for plot-related reasons.

“Ah!” said Tiger’s father, Francis Moon. “Henry! I was hoping to speak to you! How’s your research into the southern giants going?”

“Very well, thank you,” Henry responded, turning around to face Francis. “And who are these? Are they your children? They’ve grown so much since I last saw them!”

Tiger and Holly did their best to look polite and respectful and not cringe when Henry ruffled their hair. But after ten minutes of this, it was starting to become a struggle.

At first, when Francis had told them he was taking them to this elite scientific conference, he’s thought it would be exciting hearing about all the latest breakthroughs. It certainly wasn’t: it was like the most tedious lesson ever, a family reunion and one of Francis’s worst tests rolled into one.

In other words, it was mind-numbingly boring.

“Yes,” said Francis, “these are Tiger and Holly. Tell me, what progress have you made with the… payments?”

Henry glanced meaningfully at the children. Francis, taking the hint, said: “Tiger, Holly, would you mind just sitting over there for a moment? I need to speak to Henry for a bit.”

Tiger and Holly walked over to the chairs that had been indicated.

“Let’s make some mischief,” whispered Holly, smiling a little. “These boring old professors need a good shock!”

“What’s the plan?” replied Tiger, who was so bored he would have done anything as a distraction.

Holly pulled a small enamelled box out of her pocket and lifted the lid to reveal a white powder.

“Isn’t that the thing Dad taught us about… what does it do again? Oh yes… hair-growing powder?”

Holly nodded. “I stole it from Dad’s desk. Let’s stick it in everyone’s food and drink!”

“Okay,” said Tiger. “I’ll do the drink, you can do the food. You go first.”

Holly nodded a second time, stood up and walked off.

Tiger watched as she sprinkled the powder onto the surface of some fruit and came swiftly back. She handed the box to him.

Cautiously, Tiger stood up and began making his way over to the table which contained the wine, having tucked the box safely into his pocket so no-one saw it.

When he reached the table, an unfamiliar old man asked him: “Having a drink, are you?”

“No,” said Tiger, “it’s illegal.”

The old man chuckled a little to himself and said “Of course the son of Francis Moon would never break the law!” Then he wandered off, leaving Tiger feeling as if he’d missed a joke.

Tiger sprinkled the powder, a little at a time, into each goblet. As he did so, he could see the effects of Holly’s fruit already beginning: many people’s hair was growing incredibly quickly.

“What are you up to, Tiger?” It was Francis.

Tiger jumped, and dropped the box. White powder spilled out onto the neatly carpeted floor.

Francis glanced at the box and the powder, then at Henry, whose hair was already down to his shoulders, and Tiger could practically see him drawing a conclusion.

He was in massive trouble.

"Are you sure about this?" Zeb asked as Rina set a bowl of soup in front of him. "I mean, I watched you make this. It's basically just water. And the meat is cooked. I don't mean any offense," he added quickly. "But human food just doesn't seem very... filling. Or healthy."

Rina blew her bangs out of her eyes and sat in front of him. "It's zuppa toscana," she said. "Cream and kale and potatoes and spicy sausage. Seriously, you'll like it if you enjoyed those fire flakes."

Zeb hesitantly picked up his spoon in a very clumsy grip. Rina picked up her own, turning her hand slightly so he could see how she did it. Zeb quickly readjusted and dug in.

It took him a few tries to figure out how to scoop up a generous spoonful without spilling anything back into the bowl, but then he lifted it to his mouth for a taste. His eyes widened and he set his spoon aside, picking up the bowl and tipping its contents into his mouth.

Rina watched him gulp down the soup with a huge grin. "Enjoy that, did you?" she asked when he finally set the bowl down, smacking his lips.

"Immensely," Zeb said, sniffing around as he looked back at the pot. "Can I have some more?"