Author's Note: Thanks again for your lovely reviews :)

"What time is it, Dad?" Jake's voice floated from the stairs by the front door down to the kitchen again. He'd set up camp there at precisely nine-forty-five, figuring that Tim and his parents might be early.

"About a minute later than when you asked me last," Neil called back, glancing at Grace in exasperation.

"He's really looking forward to this isn't he?" Grace murmured.

"You weren't here last night," Neil accused. "It was all he'd talk about."

"Well, better he be excited about seeing his friend, than about any number of things that are infinitely worse," Grace pointed out, reaching out to tweak the collar of Neil's polo shirt. "Like heroin, or guns, or knives-"

"Why do you always have to point out the good side?" Neil asked wryly.

"What, so you can wallow in your misery?" Grace asked in amusement, raising an eyebrow as he took another step forward.

"I'm good at wallowing in misery," Neil murmured as Grace finished neatening his collar, her hand drifting to the back of his neck.

"I've noticed," Grace assured him. Neil grinned at her, and closed the infinitesimal distance between their lips.

Their moment was interrupted by the sounds of a car pulling into their driveway, car doors slamming, and an excited ten year old screeching at the top of his lungs, "They're here!"

"Is it too late to sell him to someone?" Neil mumbled with a sigh.

"Yeah," Grace said fondly, smoothing his hair back before pushing him out the kitchen in front of her.

"Carol, Steve, come on in," Neil greeted as he reached the door where Jake and Tim were loudly catching up in the doorway.

"Hi, Neil, hi, Grace," Carol greeted as the small party trooped into the kitchen.

"Would you like a drink?" Grace offered.

"Wouldn't say no to a glass of water, actually," Steve said.

"Come on, Tim," Jake hissed. Tim looked pleadingly at his parents. The two made quite a pair: the slender, small pale dark-haired boy, and the taller, sturdier blonde and freckled boy. Like Jake, however, Tim's clothes hung off his frame more than they should have, and Grace noticed that he walked with an odd gait.

Neil had explained that it was one of the potential side effects of one of the chemo drugs. Tim got temporary tingling and numbness in his feet, making it difficult for him to walk normally. While this usually didn't last too long, he'd accustomed himself to walking differently to cope.

"Bye, Timmy, be a good boy," Carol instructed, straightening her son's jacket.

"Mu-uum," Tim protested, but he endured the hugs and kisses from his parents before following Jake out into the lounge.

"He's looking well," Neil noted, passing the glass of water from Grace to Steve.

"So's Jake," Steve agreed. "Timmy's currently taking his prednisone, that always fattens him up a bit before the methotrexate takes its toll."

"Same as Jake, at the minute," Neil told him.

"How's Jake finding settling back into school?" Carol asked nervously, thanking Grace as she handed her a glass of water. "Timmy's been finding it really tough: I don't think he really realised, and I don't think we realised just how much he'd changed until he went back. His friends haven't…they don't understand, and he's been struggling with that."

"Jake started at a new school," Neil reminded them. "Along with a number of other boys – this year's a big intake for his school. And he found that tough, but not many of the boys actually know about his leukaemia."

"I'm not sure whether that's easier or harder," Steve said with a sigh. "On the one hand, you get to start afresh and you're not, you know, disappointed with your friends, but on the other, starting a new school is always tough."

"So, man, how's it?" Tim asked, flopping on the couch as Jake turned on the TV and handed him a Wii remote.

"Yeah, good," Jake replied, switching on the TV. "You?"

"School's awful," Tim sighed as the game booted up. "They just don't…they don't get it. I mean, most of the time, it's cool, you know. But when you're tired or you start to feel sick, most of the guys just sort of go away, and then all the teachers fuss over me and it's irritating."

"I know," Jake said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "I guess that's one good thing about being new."

"Your friends don't know?"

"Some of 'em. Most don't. They just think I'm good at skipping class."

"Wish mine were like that," Tim sighed. "I hate it."

"It's better than hospital, dude."

"True."

They fell into silence, punctuated by the sounds of their avatars fighting.

"Oh no you don't, that hammer's mine!"

"Haha, beat you to it! Stop HAMMER TIME!"

"Aw man!"

"Who da man?" Tim bellowed. "Dat's right, who da man? Say it!"

"You da man," Jake said reluctantly, gazing miserably at his stupid cartoon character. "I'm totally Marth this time around!"

"Whatever, man, I can so own you with any character."

This prediction was proved, very quickly, to be fallacious when Jake soundly defeated his friend in the next round. Their third game was intense: their pride as gamers was at stake, and it was all Tim could do to mutter a farewell to his parents (while still staring at the screen intently) as they left the Manson's house. Even that small act proved fatally distracting, and Tim found himself yet again vanquished. But it gave him a plan.

"So how's the planning for the party going?"

"Fantastic," Jake was distracted. Excellent. "We've got all the decorations for the house sorted. And my costume."

"So, what kind of food are you having?"

"All kinds! We're gonna have sausage rolls, and chips, and…" as Jake continued listing foods, Tim worked his fingers on the Wii remote. A quick jump, twist, bingo – he had a sword. Another couple of jumps and twists, a couple of sharp hits and –

"BOOYEAH! WHO'S YOUR DADDY?"

"That would be me!" Neil's voice floated from the dining table where the adults were sitting. One advantage of his house was the open plan of the dining room, kitchen and lounge room, allowing Neil and Grace to keep an eye on the boys without obviously doing so.

Grace looked up from her book in amusement, meeting Neil's twinkling eyes as he glanced at her over his paperwork.

"Goodness, it is true," she remarked. "Upon becoming a father, one automatically makes 'Dad jokes'. And no matter what, they're always lame."

"Yeah, they teach that in Dad School," Neil said dryly. "Looks like Tim's worked out the strategy though."

"Get Jake talking about the party," Grace's smile was strained, and Neil set his pen down.

"Gra-ace –"

"Ne-il," Grace sighed. "Yes, there are less uncomfortable ways to spend a couple of days than with your ex-wife, but hey, it is a couple of days. And it's a worthwhile cause."

"You think Jake's a worthwhile cause?" Neil said, touched. Hearing the obvious fondness Grace held for Jake always made him feel grateful for her and for his son.

Grace rolled her eyes at him. "Not really," she joked. "But getting laid is."

"I knew you only loved me for my body," Neil replied with a smug smirk, which quickly turned into a muffled yelp of pain as he found himself assaulted by her heavy book.

"So, you and your dad and Grace gonna do everything for the party? Cos that sounds like an awful lot," Tim asked.

"My mum and Liam are coming up on my actual birthday, the seventh of December. They'll help," Jake replied.

"Isn't that going to be kind of awkward?"

"Probably, for a bit anyway," Jake acknowledged with a shrug. "But I want both mum and dad there, and if mum's coming, she has to bring Liam, and then I should invite Grace."

"So your parents and step-parents," Tim nodded. "Will anyone else be there from St Hugh's?"

"Annie, Zach, Lizzie and Laura," Jake told him. "The rest will be from Dulwich. Oh, and my cousins."

"What about Lucas?"

"He's back in hospital," the boys fell silent for a moment. "Hey Tim?"

"Hey yeah?"

"You ever, you know, worry about going back in?"

Tim turned to face Jake with his serious hazel eyes, nodding solemnly. "Sometimes, yeah. I try not to think about it. You?"

"Yeah," Jake sighed.

"If you do go back in, you know I'll visit you, right?" Tim promised. "All the time!"

"I'd visit you too of course!"

"Thanks," Tim spit into his hand and held it out. "Don't worry about it, Jake. We have to look out for each other."

"Always," Jake spit into his own hand, and the two boys shook on it.

"Except when we're playing Super Mario Smash Brothers!" Jake added lightly after an appropriately manly silence.

"Dude, how is it possible you own this game and yet you're so bad at it?"

"I'm not bad at it!"

"Yes you are!"

The four adults exchanged glances as they stood, watching the two boys who were sitting forward on the couch, staring at the screen. Despite having called to their son several times, the Saunders' presence went entirely dismissed.

"A minute," Tim said absently, turning the Wii remote with an expression of fierce concentration his parents wished they saw directed at his homework. "Left, left, left, come on – YES!"

"Oh no you don't, Saunders!" Jake replied under his breath, pushing a button. A small, satisfied smile slipped from beneath his mask of concentration as the car he was driving whooshed forward, leaving behind a stream of blue gas.

"Ha! Now who's the man?" Jake said, turning to his friend with a competitive smile as his car slid across the finish line just before the others.

"All right, Timmy," Steve said firmly. "Time to go now."

Tim sighed reluctantly. "Ohhh-kaaaaaaay," he drawled as he and Jake left their seats and moved towards the door.

"Tim-my," Carol hissed quietly, prodding her son's back.

"Thank you for having me," Tim said politely to Neil and Grace. "And thanks for inviting me, Jake."

"Anytime," Neil assured him.

"See you next week," Jake said with a grin.

"Can't wait! Happy birthday for your real birthday on Tuesday, by the way!" Tim remembered to say.

"Thanks, Tim," Jake thanked him. "I'll see you next Saturday."