Hey folks, this is just a little something I came up with while watching Ducking and Diving last night and noticed it to be Allan, not Much, making the meal for a change.

Do not own. If I did, things would've turned out rather different.

The argument was halted for the time being as Djaq and John tended to Rosa. Allan didn't know what to do, how to take his mind from the panic threatening to overwhelm him.

They knew. They didn't know it was him, but they knew it was someone, they'd work it out soon and he'd be finished. Really, who else was it gonna be? Will? John?

Much?

The cook was sat on his bunk, hunched over and trying not to erupt with anger. Allan watched him. Much would be taking it hardest of all of them, he knew, he was closest to Robin, fiercely loyal to him. He and Allan had never got on that well, but Much would never forgive him this, even if he stood up now and confessed to them all, even if he got down on his knees and begged for their mercy.

So, what then? He was trapped, too late for truth and apologies, too early for a new beginning. That was if they didn't kill him for what he'd done.

That'd be fitting. One life brought into this world in their camp as his was drawn to a close. He looked over at Rosa. She'd need something to eat soon, they all would. As Much was showing no sign of preparing their meal, still angrily staring at the floor, Allan took the task on himself. He'd been alone for long enough to know how to prepare a simple soup at least, so that's what he'd do. It was the least he could do. If nothing else, it would help take his mind off everything.

He began pottering around the small kitchen, picking up this and that, trying to find something to put together. Feeling eyes on him he turned to see Much watching him, then looking away. Allan took it to be a sign of the older man's anger that he didn't say anything, no comment on him never having helped before. That was true; all those meals toiled over, every damn day, and had Allan even lifted a finger to assist?

But this was different. It was the end of things, his last supper. No matter what happened he could do this one thing. This tiny gesture, this final act, this way of apology. This meaningless token.

And whatever end it came to… maybe they'd remember.

Please review!