Note-Final chapter! Thanks for reading and being so damn nice, folks! PS: sorry My_Alphabet_Soup and rarax1, but I won't a do a Hooch or Franklyn one. I'll leave those honours up to you.

Coleman sighed. Lloyd was late. He looked at his watch and folded his arms. His son had probably lost his new Metallica CD, or whatever pounding, headachy garbage he was listening to nowadays. Damn him. He had a doctors conference he needed to get to by five, and it was already four thirty!

Lloyd had used to be such an obedient child when he was little. Coleman had fond memories of his son toddling around on the floor with a little Tonka Truck in his chubby little fist. Fond memories…

But those memories wouldn't stay fond forever. Coleman was coming on in age, and was starting to become forgetful. A few days ago he'd looked at a photo on the mantelpiece to find that he had completely forgotten where the photo was taken, and had had to ask his wife Gloria to remind him. He had remained in complete shock for the rest of the day. After all, he didn't want to go the same way as Dr Towsend!

At least he could still remember his name. Although that in itself was a bit of a joke. Coleman Slawski, what had his father been thinking? At least he had learnt to laugh along with his nickname, unlike Seymour, who just got more and more sour every day. Anyway, he rather liked it. It was like a term of endearment of sorts, even if he was a vegetarian.

He looked at his watch again. Twenty to. Where the heck was Lloyd? He was running late! Although it was rather a shame; Coleman never thought he spent enough time with his son. There had always been the division of work. He was always at the hospital and Lloyd was always off on deliveries. And anyway, they were two very different people. Lloyd liked speed metal and convincing himself he was dying; Coleman liked jazz and playing chess. They used to interact whenever Lloyd persuaded himself he had SARS, and one of the nurses passed him onto his dad ("He's your son, you deal with it!"). But over time, they had just given up, and given Lloyd over to other doctors. Now the only time they really saw each other was when his son gave him a lift to and from the hospital.

If Coleman honest with himself he rather missed treating Lloyd, odd as that seemed. It was the only time they'd really had to spend together, and now that was pretty much over. He didn't see his son as much as he used to. He knew he never had to deal with anything serious, and his son was one of the best hypochondriacs he'd ever treated. He'd ended up with three today. One was a most unpleasant young man called…oh, damn, what was his name…? Coleman sighed again. Once again, his memory had failed him.

Suddenly, he heard a loud honk, and looked up. A large van was hurtling into the driveway. Coleman smiled. There was his son, finally. Sure enough, the van drew up beside him, and the window opened. Lloyd stuck his head out, and grinned. Behind him, Coleman could hear a rattling bass line thumping from the stereo system.

"Hey, dad!" smiled Lloyd. Coleman smiled back, and made his way to the other side of the van. He got in, and was greeted with Lloyd shrieking along to the music.

"Hey, son" he muttered, and planted a quick kiss on the side of his son's head. "How've you been?"

"Good…this conference is on Tower Block, right?"

"You know what?" Coleman smiled. "Let's not go to the conference"

"What?"

"Let's not go to the conference. Let's go somewhere else"

"Where?"

"Anywhere you like. I missed you, son"

"Me too, dad!"

Lloyd accelerated out of the car park, almost reversing into a just-discharged patient. The van careered through the driveway and through onto the highway.

"Me too…"