Warning: long chapter. but only a couple to go so enjoy while you can. and review if you're feeling generous. please. [i feel very pathetic. iv never begged for reviews before sad face]

"Hey." He smiled, finding Susan in the lounge, half-sitting on the bench by the coffee percolator, "You on a break?"

She nodded, smiling shyly. He crossed the room.

"You finished?" she asked, ignoring his closeness, or trying to.

"Yup. But I don't really want to go home." He touched her face, begging her to look at him. "You're stunning."

She smiled but turned serious. "Are you sure about this? I mean I've been walking on air for the past few hours, but…"

"I'm sure. I've wanted this as long as I can remember. We just have bad timing. And then I decided that I wasn't going to lose you again. At least not without a fight."

She shook her head. "I don't deserve that."

"Of all people," he disagreed, "you do… You… you're amazing." He breathed, kissing her softly.

"I love you." She whispered, reaching up into him.

"There's a trauma coming in." Someone threw the door open.

They pulled back reluctantly, "You better get out of here while you still can." She smiled.

"When do you finish?"

"Nine."

"Do you want to come over?"

She looked at him for a moment then nodded. "Yeah." She whispered, smiling.

"Okay." He kissed her one last time and fled.

She knocked nervously excited. She half-wished she'd taken the time to go home and change but the mirror in the ladies room had told her the jeans and shirt looked fine… only she didn't feel like she looked fine. It had been a long shift.

"Hey." Mark smiled, opening the door for her to come in.

"Hi." She stepped past him, remembering very clearly the last time she'd been here.

"You want something to drink?"

"Sure." She followed him into the kitchen.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want dinner but it's there if you do."

"That'd be great. I'm famished."

Mark nodded and put the loaded plate in the microwave before returning to their drinks.

"A martini with lime?" she smiled, taking the offered glass.

"I have an excellent memory."

"And I know better so I remind you." She sipped her drink.

"Yeah." He loved how well she knew him.

The microwave beeped signaling it had finished cooking. Mark put the plate on the table, "take a seat," he said, getting some cutlery.

"Thanks," she sat down, "You ate already?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Susan ate quickly in uncomfortable silence.

"Be right back." Mark disappeared. 'Relax.' He told himself, 'This isn't some terrifying judgmental stranger, this is Susan. Damn it! Relax…' he took a deep breath and stuck a CD in the stereo, tidying the lounge a bit as he walked through it.

"Thanks for dinner." Susan stood in the doorway.

"Are you going?" he looked confused.

"No. I was just thanking you for dinner." She smiled

"Oh. You want to sit down?" he gestured to the sofa.

She crossed the room and stood in front of him, not making for the sofa at all.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so nervous." Mark breathed rubbing his forehead with one hand. She smiled slightly and took his hand, pulling him down on the sofa beside her. "Maybe its because I never really thought I'd be here."

"Neither." She leaned on the armrest, one leg tucked under her. "I hate to ask again, but are you sure?" she met his eyes with trepidation.

"I'm terrified. But the fact that I can tell you that…" he sighed. "I have a pretty high failure rate."

"Mark…"

He leaned toward her, taking her hands, and her breath away. He affected her more than she was prepared for. "You're right. We can't go back. But you have always been that one person I really connected with. You know me, warts and all, and you're still here. How does that saying go? If you love somebody let them go, if they don't come back they were never yours…" she cut him off with a kiss he couldn't talk through.

He ran one hand around her back keeping the other on her neck, not wanting to let go.

Her heart was beating so fast. She felt like she'd manipulated and pushed him into this. But all evidence the contrary. Still… "Mark, wait." She pulled back but didn't let go of him. "I'm sorry for leaving – or planning to. I keep promising my friendship and then pushing you away, or running away. I don't want to do that anymore. I've been such an idiot." He was shaking his head but she was on a roll. "If you need time, I can give you time. There's no hurry."

He shook his head definitively. "I want this." He smiled, "I want you." He cocked his head to one side. "It's always been you."

She grinned. "You're incredible."

He shook his head again then took a deep breath, "but you're right about one thing. There's no hurry. I don't think we should… tonight."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah. So what should we do?"

"Um… I might have a video."

"Sponge bob square pants?"

"Huh?"

Susan laughed, "It's on top of the tv."

"Oh, ah…" he got up, "I think that's Ella's"

"Probably." She laughed. "So, what have you got?"

"Braveheart?"

"I love that movie."

"Really, I thought it was a guy thing."

"Are you kidding me? Mel Gibson – maybe some guys…"

"Braveheart it is." He pushed in the tape and returned to the couch, sitting beside her almost relaxed.

Mark blinked back tears as the final triumphant scene rolled across the screen. He looked over at Susan. She was curled up sleeping right beside him.

He smiled and pushed her hair off her face, got up and turned off the television and got her a blanket.

As he moved her so that she was lying along the sofa she woke up.

"Is it finished?"

"Yeah. Go back to sleep."

She nodded without question and shut her eyes. He watched her for a moment. This was the second chance he'd never thought he'd get. He kissed her forehead, "goodnight."

Susan woke up to the sound of a running shower. She remembered where she was but she was way to comfortable to get up. It was a comfy sofa, but the knowledge that Mark was in the next room, and seeing the grey and cold-looking day out the windows of his lounge, made staying right where she was so much more appealing. Not only would getting up involve energy but right where she was she could anticipate Mark coming any minute. She let her eyes shut and sunk back into the cushions.

She was aware of his coming into the room. He walked over to the sofa, assumed by the closed eyes she was asleep and was about to head for the kitchen when she sleepily croaked, "Good morning."

His head appeared over her, from behind the couch. She grinned mischievously.

"Did you sleep okay?"

She nodded. "You?"

"Yeah. I was just going to make us some breakfast. What would you like?"

She pushed herself up to a sitting position and shrugged, "I'm not fussed. As long as there's coffee I'm happy."

"Easy to please." He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two mugs and bad news. "Okay, small problem. Empty cupboards." He sat down on the sofa, lifting her feet and replacing them on his lap. She sunk into the pillows. She could spend all day like this.

She shrugged, "I'm all delightfully sleepy and cozy and I don't want to go anywhere."

He smiled at her and forgot himself, letting his eyes linger over her face.

"What?" she asked of his stare.

"Oh, nothing." He grinned, "You're just… I dunno… beautiful." He mumbled lamely.

"Yeah. It's the bed hair and the bags under my eyes and the morning breath meets coffee and yesterdays clothes scent."

"They should bottle it. Make a fortune." He said seriously.

She cracked up laughing and pulled her feet off his lap and folded them underneath her, leaning over to take his hand and kiss it playfully.

When she went to drop his hand he then grabbed hers and kissed it, a cheeky grin gracing his lips and his eyes sparkling into hers.

She adored him. She smile left her face but danced in her eyes, amazed at him.

"What?" it was his turn to question her stare.

She smiled, "I dunno. I just…" she laughed, still sleepy and not making a whole lot of sense to herself or anyone. "I like you in the morning." She leaned back on the couch and put her head into one arm to cover her face.

He leaned back so they were face to face and took the hand of that arm, playing with the fingers and slowly plying it away so she'd look at him. "I never thought I'd get another chance with you."

"We never got a first chance." She smiled sadly and swallowed.

He took a deep breath, still holding her fingers lightly, their arms hanging over the back of the couch. "I'm so excited about this. I feel like a kid two days before Christmas."

She grinned at his comparison. "I still don't believe it," she admitted. "This is all some dream and I don't want to wake up."

He edged forward and kissed her lightly. "Feels real to me."

She opened her eyes and nodded, leaning in for more.

He took her other hand, planting light inviting kisses all over her face.

Eventually she couldn't bear it anymore and pulled her hands free from his, taking his face in her hands and kissing him soundly, laughing at the same time, beating him at his own game.

He brought his hands to her waist and wouldn't let go of that kiss. She'd meant a fun, quick, victory kiss. But it lingered. They'd waited so long for this but the intensity shocked them nonetheless.

She ran her hands down his body and around to his back, pulling herself closer.

"Mark… we… should stop." She said between kisses, finally pulling away.

"Yeah." He tried to catch his breath. "How about breakfast?"

She smiled, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach – not just a myth eh?"

"No, it's true. But you may as well leave my heart out of the equation."

"Really? Why's that?" she forced herself to get up, straightening the clothes she'd slept in.

"It's yours already." He stood up way-too-close and kissed her again. Leaving was getting less and less appealing. This time he pulled back. "Sorry."

She laughed at his schoolboy apology. "Yeah, I really have issues with this. In fact you are way out of line I will be forced to use extreme measures if you don't kiss me again in the next five…" she was cut off, wrapped in his arms as her quick mouth was put to better use.

They pulled away at the same time. Susan straightened her shirt, "right, good thing you got that out of your system because public displays of affection are very teenage."

"Yeah, alright. Cause I really dread your punishment." He tried to sound dirty but she laughed in his face, shaking her head.

She sat back down to put her shoes on. "So where are we going for breakfast?"

"Depends, you like bagels?"

"Sounds good to me. As long as we pass somewhere that sells gum on the way."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." He yelled back from his room and soon reappeared ready to leave. "My lady." He held out his arm.

"Good sir." She almost mastered the British accent, taking his arm and laughing at him trying to walk like a cartoon gentleman cab-driver, nose in the air, arm behind his back… only he was wearing jeans and a Bob Dylan shirt that didn't have quite the same effect as the penguin suit and tails she doubted he even owned.

She wrapped her fingers in his and followed him out into the morning.