Well, while I'm still working on the final chapter for my Cordano story "Just Visiting,"  the idea for this other story came to me.  It's something different, that's for sure.

The characters belong to Warner Brothers and TPTB, although  *why* did they let Romano go?   *sniff*

Elizabeth walked into her house and closed the door. It had been a long day, and a depressing one.  She couldn't shake the bad feelings she had about Robert's death, and the fact that almost no one had come to the memorial service.   All the people he had worked with all those years – they didn't seem fazed at all by his absence.  If they were, they didn't show it.

It's wrong, she thought, as she slipped off her hospital scrubs and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She tried to stop the thoughts from swarming through her head, but they couldn't be ignored. A life should be honored. It shouldn't just end with loneliness and isolation.

Of course, now she was alone, except for Ella. She had been for a long time. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and brushed it away, but another one followed. She shook her head, trying to will the sad thoughts away, but they kept coming. She thought about Robert, his lonely life, now cut short. There were time over the years when he had surprised her, with his gentleness, his ability to surprise her with kindness and sensitivity. She knew he'd cared for her, but she'd always tried to keep it at bay. Maybe she should have let him get closer to her.  There were times when she thought about it, but she never knew if she should trust him or not. No, that wasn't true. She couldn't let herself trust him, she was too afraid of the deep feelings that might swell up if she'd let them. Maybe things could have been different if she had, maybe neither one of them would have had to be so alone.

She collasped into an armchair, putting her feet up. She was exhausted. She closed her eyes, took some deep breaths, letting her breathing relax her, until she felt calmed.

She took one more deep breath, then opened her eyes and stood up. She'd go to bed, she decided. Just get into bed and sack out in a dreamless sleep.

She walked into the bedroom. Robert was standing there.

"Not a great turnout today, huh?" he said.

Elizabeth gasped, took a sharp intake of breath.

"Robert?" she whispered.

"It's me," he said sadly. "Not in the flesh, exactly, but here."

Elizabeth felt the color draining from her face. She felt like she was going to faint, but she didn't. He was standing a few feet in front of her. She walked over to him, slowly, and put her arms around him. She hugged him for a long time. Neither one said a word.

"You feel real," she said. "Almost."

"Almost," he agreed.

She took a good look at him, up and down. "You got your arm back," she said, surprised.

He looked down at his left arm. "Yeah, well," he said, shyly but proudly. "That's the good thing about being dead, they let you look the way you once were.  Although I asked for some more hair and they said no." He smiled at her broadly. "Good to see you, Lizzie."

"It's good to see you, Robert," she said softly. "It really is."

"Thanks for the memorial service," he said. "I know you felt bad that no one came."

"Didn't you?" she said.

"Nah," he said, and smiled. "You were there."

"I was there," she agreed. "I'm so sorry, Robert. I wish you hadn't died--"

"Don't," he said. "There's nothing you can do."

"Isn't there?" she said. "You're here, aren't you? Isn't that some sort of a miracle?"

"No," he said. "Not really. Not like you think."

"Oh."

"When someone dies," Robert explained, "and they were supposed to, you know, like after a long illness, or a long life, then they just die and are buried and that's the end of it. When you die violently though, because of a murder, or an accident, and your body is just yanked away, sometimes you're, uh, I'm, not ready to leave. Not yet. So you, that is, me, I mean, I get to come back. Like this."

"As a ghost?" she said.

"Yeah," he said. "A ghost." He looked down at his body. "Do I look pale?"

"Well, you were always pale," she said, smiling.

"Sassy," he said, and smiled. "I like that."

"So Robert, what are your plans?"

"My plans?" he said incredulously. "Lizzie, I'm a ghost. We don't have plans. It's not like we say 'Today I'm going to a business meeting and later out to dinner.' It doesn't really work like that."

"How does it work?"

"Well, I don't really know," he said, embarrassed. "I guess I just get to hang around a little until I'm ready to leave."

"Okay," she said. "So where do you stay?"

"I could stay anywhere," he said and shrugged. "I could sleep outside. It's not like I'm going to die from the cold or something like that. I could go back to my old house, but I don't really want to do that."

"Why not?" she said.

He shrugged again. "Because it's boring, and because - I don't live there anymore."

"I understand," she said gently.

"Do you think I could stay here for a little while?" he said.   "Just a little while.   We could talk."

"Of course," she said.

She looked at him and he looked down at the ground. He looked so lost and sad, Elizabeth wanted to take him in her arms, so she did. He leaned his head on her shoulder, and she held him close. After a few minutes he gently extracted himself from her and moved back.

"Thank you," he said very formally.

"You're welcome," she said.   He smiled, and looked down, embarrassed.

"I'm glad you came back, Robert,"  Elizabeth said.   "I didn't think you would, but I had hoped."

He looked up at her, surprised.   "You did?"

"Yes," she said.     "I still have things – to say to you."