PART 7

We waited three weeks to officially celebrate the end of Roy's chemotherapy. Enough time for him to start feeling better. Enough time to be reasonably sure that it had worked.

I fell asleep on Donna's couch. Again. Pulling a 36 hour shift will do that to you. Something brushed across my face. I half-swatted at it. Stupid bug was insistent. I slapped at my face--then bolted awake as a glob of shaving cream that had been in my hand splattered across my mouth.

It was an old trick.

I wiped my eyes on my shirt. Sure enough, Roy sat across from me grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

"Ain't payback a bitch?"

"I'll show you payback." I growled.

Roy danced out of my reach. I vaulted the couch and chased him into the kitchen. We feinted around the counter a few times. I finally took the chance and vaulted the breakfast bar. Something crashed behind me.

We ended up in the hallway. Roy lunged at me from a blind spot. I ducked and rolled. The bathroom door flew open and Donna--obviously in the middle of a shower--rushed in. I came to my feet ready for the next assault.

Roy couldn't stop his momentum. He knocked Donna back into the bathroom and landed on the tile floor. I held my breath. It was the closest they had been in weeks.

Donna ended up in a half push-up over Roy. She started to get up. He grabbed her arms to stop her. He tugged the towel on her head free, sending her hair in a shower of dark, damp curls around her face. A spray of water beaded across her skin.

They looked at each other for a long time. Roy leaned in. Donna, unsure, didn't move. His lips caught a drop of water as it slid into the hollow of her throat. He grinned. It was a look that lit up his face.

A look meant for two people, not three.

Time for me to take Lian to the park.



THE END