Author's Note: yes, it's back! After a ridiculous hiatus, I offer you a ridiculously short chapter, but one that should hopefully spring forth a few more so that we can tie up this story once and for all, and let me get on with the far more silly and elaborate sequel I have lurking at the back of my brain. Thanks to all that took the time to make me feel better and reviewed last chapter; much of what I said was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but it never hurts either way. ;) Anyway – on with the show.

Shift was about to start again, and Greg wearily trudged his way toward the locker room. Dude, he thought. You really messed up last night. The whole object of the exercise was to cheer Sara up, and instead he had turned her into a sobbing heap of mush. It had been something of a shock. He'd seen her agitated before, angry even, but never this emotional; never to the point of actually crying. Sure, he'd tried to lighten the mood afterwards, and she'd said it was fine, but he was doubtful. Just when their friendship had seemed to be blossoming, he'd had to do something stupid like that and ruin it all.

Shit. As he set his foot across the threshold, there she was, and for all he'd dwelt on what happened, he couldn't think of anything to say. For one brief, ridiculous moment he had visions of those old Tom and Jerry cartoons in which the hapless cat had to tiptoe in front of a sleeping dog, but his train of thought was swept aside as he heard her call his name.

'Greg?'

He didn't look at her, just concentrated all his attention on stuffing his jacket into his locker. 'Er…hey.'

'Yeah…' Sara trailed off, feigning interest in a book she found resting on the metal shelf in front of her.

Greg sighed, and pushed the metal door to. 'Look,' he murmured, 'about what happened…'

'Yeah, thanks.'

'Huh?' He looked at her, uncomprehending. 'That's the voice of sarcasm, isn't it?'

'No… no, it's not.' Sara's voice lowered, before continuing, 'What you did, what you were trying to do… it's sweet. You're a good friend.'

'I try. Now I've just got to try to get those black smudges out of my shirt.'

That raised a laugh of sorts. 'Yeah… sorry about that.'

'You know I was kidding that time, right?' he added hastily.

Sara nodded, the smile back on her face.

'Thank God, because frankly, making you cry twice in twenty-four hours is really pushing it…' he checked himself. 'Sorry. I don't think I've really got the hang of this whole serious thing, and I know that it pisses you off...'

'No, no it doesn't,' she replied quickly. 'Okay, maybe sometimes, when you get really carried away and start… whatever. But it's a part of who you are, what makes you, you.' She pulled him into a hug, and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek. 'Never change that, Greggo; you're one of the good guys.'

And then she was gone, leaving Greg standing alone in the locker room, his pulse rising, his face beginning to flush and a boyish corner of his heart feeling the familiar stirrings of an old crush once again.