"You're looking dressed up. Well, more so than usual."

Ravi tugged affectedly at the cuffs of his blazer. They still didn't quite cover the bloodstains on his shirtsleeves. "Nothing wrong with making myself presentable. But, as it happens, I do have a date tonight."

Liv smiled from where she was scrubbing down the metal slabs. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Amanda. We met in the pub watching the game last week. Although I suspect her sympathies may lie with the wrong team, she is from the homeland, and she is willing to talk about football with me, so I am optimistic."

He reached into the pocket of his lab coat where it hung on the wall and fished out his phone, dropping it into his trouser pocket. "So, what do you have planned."

Liv wiped away the last stubborn bloodstain with a valiant push, and dropped the sponge into the bucket with a plop. Pinkish water splashed out. "Oh, nothing much. Some stupid romance movie, a bar of chili chocolate, and my empty apartment."

Ravi frowned. "You seem sad about that. You used to rave about that type of Friday night."

"Yeah, but I used to have them with Peyton. That was our best friend thing." She sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs scattered about the morgue. "Whenever one of us was sad, or had been dumped, or anything, Peyton would say, "let's just lean into the curve", and we'd watch sad movies and make ourselves cry. And then we'd stay up all night talking and eating ice cream from the carton and generally being teenage girl stereotypes. I miss it."

As she spoke, Ravi had slowly walked back towards her. He leaned his elbows on the still damp metal of the examination table and looked at Liv. She dropped her head, looking down at her fingers twisted together in her lap. "I miss having a best friend."

"I could give it a go."

Liv glanced up. Ravi had his eyebrows raised, like he was mid-deadpan joke, but his eyes were warm. "Seriously? Don't you hate chick flicks and emotions? I thought it was part of the British code."

"Well, I'm not saying it would come naturally. As a stoic British man, I have never in fact cried in my life, but I promise I can eat ice cream and bitch with the best of them."

"Ravi, you really don't have to-"

"Yes, but I'd like to. It'd be a new experience, for one thing. And it works. You need a best friend. I happen to be perfect best friend material. Shall I bring the ice cream?"

Liv stood up, pushing back her chair, and hoisted the bucket off the table. "You can't. You have a date." She said, lugging it towards the sink.

He hurried after her. "I'll call her, tell her I can't make it. She's a good sort, she won't mind." Liv tipped the bucket into the drain, watching the pinkish liquid swirl away, a hypnotic whirlpool forming around the plughole. She turned to look as Ravi leant against the draining board next to her. "Besides, there are lots of girls. There's only one Liv Moore."

He smiled down at her from his ridiculous height, and the silence almost made the morgue feel warm. Then Liv turned back to the sink and began filling up the bucket with fresh water. "Alright. I will accept you as my best friend, but only on a trial basis. We have to see if you pass muster."

Ravi began to take off his jacket, now damp at the elbows and flecked with bloody water. "I sincerely hope that I'm up to the job. I'll be at yours around 7?"

"Sounds alright."

He turned and began walking towards the door, and then turned to look back. "You know that this is only temporary, right? I know I don't get to keep this."

"What do you mean?"

Ravi was back next to her in a couple of stupidly long strides. "Peyton will come back. No one could stay away from all this-" He stepped back a little and did a little spin, "-forever. I'm ready to step aside when she comes back for her position."

Liv looked down and noticed that her jeans had little dark spots flecking the thighs. "I don't know Ravi. Last time she saw me, she started crying and sprinted out of the house."

"Yes, but she was just a bit freaked out. Seeing you in full-on zombie mode, who wouldn't be?"

"You weren't. You comforted me."

Ravi raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but I am special. I have extensive experience with such things from zombie movies. Don't worry, she knows the real you. She'll come back."

"She saw the real me. That's what being a zombie is. It's rage and death and it's not human!" Liv realized she'd raised her voice, and snapped her mouth shut. Ravi had stepped back a little, but he didn't look afraid, only very, very sad. He slowly reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Liv. I've never been in your position; I don't have your experience. But whatever being a zombie is like, that's not all that you are. That's not the real you." Liv looked down, slumped back into a nearby chair. Ravi crouched down so that he was a little below her. "I know who you are. You are the smartest person in any class you're in. You worked hard, and you loved hard, loved your friends and your family. And you were tragically, unfairly killed, but that didn't stop you, because no stupid bad circumstance-coincidence-tragedy is going to stop Liv Moore. You kept working, and kept loving with everything you had, and you used your tragedy to help other people who'd been killed. That's the real you. The courageous, hardworking, loving person who I know Peyton will always come back for."

He stood up, brushing out the creases in his date-night trousers, and offered her a hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. Ravi smiled, and from that moment, the world was just a little bit better. "So, what flavour of ice cream?"