A/N Back by popular demand lol! Here is chapter two, written especially for my darling Olivia - merry xmas bambina!

"Greg, come back here with that!"

Olivia's voice rang through the house they had just bought together – something that Greg had wanted to do the day he met her. It was only a small house with two bedrooms, although one was at present being used to store all of the things that they hadn't been able to part with, like her collection of rather old and rather chipped novelty teapots, and his first drum kit, that was kept with one drum stacked on top of another and so on, so it looked like a more interesting version of a wedding cake. There was even a small garden, and that was where Olivia was sitting – on the emerald grass, on her knees, planting violent-purple Violets, azure Azaleas, and red Roses. Greg had just run into the house with a basket on his head. The selection of bulbs and seeds that were housed in it were now scattered over the lawn.

"You'll have to catch me first!" came his playful reply.

"Right!" she yelled, and with that got up, threw down her trowel and chased him down the path and into the kitchen.

There was a loud crash. Olivia followed the sound into the living room, where Greg was lying in a heap in the middle of the creamy-coloured floor. He had tripped over a box of stuffed toys from his boyhood that she had asked him to take up to the spare bedroom a few hours earlier. The friendly crustacean from 'The Little Mermaid' was at his feet, as if mocking him for his foolishness, along side a ragged teddy bear with part of his ear missing.

"Ouch..." Greg said eventually. "Who left that in the middle of the room?"

"You did."

"Oh. That was stupid of me."

Olivia gasped when she spotted a droplet of blood sparkling on his forehead. She dashed back into the kitchen and ran some cold water over a towel.

"Here, hold still," she said, holding it to his head. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, it's agony." he said with a grin. "I think I may need to go lie down for a while."

"Oh no you don't. Sorry to burst your bubble, sweet cheeks, but you still have boxes to move. You can start with that one." she said, pointing to the source of Greg's injury. "I don't think that bump has warped your mind too badly...well, more than it was anyway."

Greg frowned. "Oh, all right. But can I have a hug first?" he asked making puppy-dog eyes at her.

She pulled him into a tight embrace, and kissed his the cut on his head. He smiled, breathing in the scent of her Raspberry Crush shampoo. She was wearing his old Marilyn Manson t-shirt that he had outgrown and had given to her. It was spotted with yellow paint from when she had decorated the bathroom while he was at work. She had taken a week off from her job as a nurse at Desert Palm Hospital.

As Greg carried the rest of the boxes upstairs, Olivia went back to the garden, a warm blast of air hitting her as she stepped out of the door of their new house in the Las Vegas suburbs.