Disclaimer: I don't own them; really don't want them for forever. They're like puppies. You have to clean up after them all the time.

This is something that has been kicking around in my head since October...well, some of it anyway.


The ping pong ball bounced back and forth, between the paddle and the wall, in a slow, steady staccato.

Ping...ping...ping...

It took Woody three days after Calvin left to get his apartment back into its normal disarray. It took him three more weeks to stop feeling like he'd been sucker punched every time he walked in the door.

Ping...ping...pong...

The hair on the back of neck still went up when he thought about the evidence he 'buried'. It wouldn't be good for either he or Calvin if Cal's cell number had made its way to the DA's office. It would be his final favor. His last bail out. From now on the kid was on his own and Woody didn't care if the ground swallowed Cal up whole. As far as he was concerned, Calvin was just someone from his past. That part of his life that didn't count anymore...Woodrow Hoyt was no longer that guy from Wisconsin. He was a Bostonian now.

On a whim, he picked up the phone and smiled when it was answered on the third ring.

"Is there really a difference between brown eggs and white? ...God, look who I'm asking..."

"Hello to you too Jordan. Did I interrupt your quest to solve one of the great mysteries of the culinary world?"

"Hi," her voice softened. "I'm sorry about that. It's just...nothing. Hey, what's up?"

Ping...ping...ping...

"I was going to ask you the same thing,"

Ping...ping...ping...

"What is that noise?"

"Ping-pong. I was wondering if you'd like to split a pizza ...maybe catch a movie with me."

"Tonight?"

Ping...ping...ping...

"Unless you're working..."

"No..no, I'm off ...but, I'm busy. Maybe some other time?"

"Those pesky chicken issues?"

"Wha?...Oh no," she laughed. "I'm trying to cook this totally organic meal and I think I'm not cut out for the whole body-temple mindset."

"I always thought a few preservatives and pesticides added that certain something to the essence."

Ping...ping...ping...

"Well, I'm trying."

"Might I ask why this sudden urge to eat wisely?"

"I'm ...I'm making dinner for a friend."

A friend? "Really?" he asked brightly.

Ping...ping...pong...

He could almost hear her nodding.

"Who?" he said still trying to remain detracted.

"Um, Louis. You remember Louis..."

He didn't let her finish. "Jefferies? That agoraphobe nut job?"

Ping...pong...Pong...

"He's not a nut job Wood and I wish you'd stop calling him that."

"Jordan, he's as whacked as the people who call his stuff art."

"I have one of his prints."

Pong...Pong...miss.

He sighed. "Jordan...nevermind. So, is he having a dinner party or something? And he sweet talked you into bringing him food?"

"Um, no. he's coming over here." she said offhandedly.

Woody couldn't sound as flippant. "Really?"

PingPingPing.

"Louis is making a lot of progress battling his...condition. In fact, he's going to attempt to be present at opening of his new exhibit next week at The MASSMoCa."

"...at the WHAT?"

"Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts."

"...oh."

Ping...pong...Pong...

"He's been working almost non-stop since the murder. A hell of an inspiration, huh?"

"Sounds like you've kept in close touch..."

Pong...Pong...miss.

"Not THAT close Woody," he could feel her rolling her eyes. "He's just a friend. Louis is a brilliant man. His insight on...everything still amazes me."

"...for a loon." he said under his breath. "Well, pizza and a movie can't compete with tofu and ink blots. Have fun."

Ping...ping...pong...

"Woody. I'd love to have dinner with you...but ...This weekend. We'll make a day of it. I promise...shit, I've gotta go; my risotto is cooking too fast. Call me..."

Like a flash she was gone.

"I always do." he replied to the dial tone.

PONG.

The ping pong ball disappeared under the TV on the other side of the room.

Damn, he thought. It would take him a month to dig that out...and it was his last one.