,AN: This chapter kinda gets off the track a bit, and is basicly filler. But I wanted to reiterate the peaceful life the Bohos are living when this story begins.
Plus, a shout out to LifeIsTooQuick, who gave me the idea of how this chapter opens with her talk about a catnip mouse's POV in a PM. Thanks, LifeIsTooQuick.

The predator crouched down, eyeing her prey, that wiggly squirming thing. It was perfectly unaware that the huntress was there, waiting for the right moment to strike. The predator's tail twitched in expectation, and her large, yellow eyes narrowed dangerously, as her prey got closer, and closer. Sharp claws retracted from the predator's paws, ready to sink into the unsuspecting prey. Any minute now, the prey would be in striking distance. Soon….soon… now!

Mark let out a surprised shout as the little kitten, Maya, pounced out from her hiding place beneath the metal table and attacked his loose shoelace, batting at the cord playfully.

"Maya!" Mark sighed, scooping up the kitten, trying to feign sternness. "How many times do I have to tell you? You have catnip mice and little pom-poms to play with. My shoelaces are not on your toy list." Maya responded with a contented 'mew', and squirmed around, trying to lick Mark's hand. The small kitten had gained some weight since Roger had found her in the alley, weak and neglected, and was now as lively and energetic as any other kitten.

"Dad, you're not fooling anyone, " Penny giggled, watching Mark scold Maya. "We all know you don't mind her pouncing when your shoelaces are undone. Admit it, you think it's funny, too." Choosing to ignore Penny's comment, Mark quickly scratched the spot behind Maya's ears and placed the kitten back on the ground next to her food dish, which had been positioned next to Wenceslas'. Maya and Wenceslas had seemed to hit it off very well from the start, and Maya absolutely loved to take naps on Wenceslas' back. The black potbellied pig sometimes even let the kitten eat from his bowl.

After patting Wenceslas' side, Mark took a moment to look around at his family. A few years ago, he'd never have imagined that he'd be here, married to Emily for four months, with Penny, their adopted daughter, who they both loved as if she was their real daughter. He never would have imagined that the three of them would also be living with Roger, his best friend, the man who was like a brother to him, and Roger's wife, Mimi, and their son, Rodolfo. Yet, here they all were. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that they'd all come a long way in the past three, nearly four, years.

At that precise moment, Mimi and Penny were at the metal table, finishing up their breakfast of French toast, while Emily was in the middle of washing up the dishes. Rodolfo, meanwhile, was secured in his high chair, grasping some of the cheerios that had been left in front of him and bringing them to his mouth. And over on the couch, Roger was lounged out, watching a news broadcast. According to the reporter on the TV, the body of some longshoreman was found early that morning in the harbor. The official story at the time was that the man had died in some freak accident while unloading a cargo ship from Romania.

Despite the small tragedy that was being discussed on the news broadcast, Mark found it was hard to feel bad for someone they didn't know. This was one of those moments when it seemed like nothing could touch them, and life was simple and perfect. Whenever those moments came around, they always left Mark wishing that was how things really were. That it would always be like this.

As if on cue, like an alarm clock going off in the middle of a very good dream, the peaceful moment was shattered by the sounds of two beepers going off. Simultaneously, Roger and Mimi switched off their beepers.

"Roger," Mimi sighed. "Could you get our AZT? I left it in the medicine chest in our bathroom."

"Yeah, sure." Roger reluctantly switched off the TV and began to shuffle toward the bedroom that he and Mimi shared, glancing down at his sweatpants and faded T-shirt as he went. "I probably should get changed, anyway, since Maureen's stopping by to drag us all to that costume shop that opened up last week."

As Roger passed Rodolfo's high chair, the seven-month old let out a laugh, and tossed his rattle to the floor. Roger instinctively bent down to pick it up, returning it to his baby son. But the second Roger started to continue on his way, the rattle was thrown to the floor again.

"Uh oh," Emily grinned as she took out one of her insulin needles from the freezer. "Looks like Rodolfo's discovered the game of 'Dropsy'. You and Mimi better get used to it, Roger. When Penny was that age, she could go on for half an hour before she got tired of that game." Chucking, Roger once again returned the rattle before kissing Rodolfo's head. As he straightened up, he noticed the look Mark was giving him. Catching his eye, they nonverbally agreed on the same thing.

If only life was always this simple.