One rough hand slid up the back of her thigh, the water cascading over them, steaming hot feeling every bit as amazing as her skin against his. He pressed her back against the wall of the shower stall, his hot mouth on hers, her breasts pressed against his chest so that he could feel her heart pounding beneath them.

She had gasped to him, panted that they would hear, but he didn't care… let them hear, he told her. They didn't care. And if they did, fuck them, at least he was trying to make the most of the apocalypse.

Fingers tightened on the back of her thigh, drawing her leg up ever so slightly…

Heat, pressure, slowly creeping ecstasy reaching a crescendo…

Then Francis was suddenly being shaken awake, the white face of his roommate Jake appearing above him and making him shake his head to clear away the lingering effects of the dream.

"Fuck man, they found one of those things." Jake gasped. "One of those things! It was living in someone's basement, they were keeping it like a pet or a slave or something, or maybe thinkin' they could keep it alive to bring it back! It got out, tore 'em up. It's on the news man, you gotta see it!"

Francis grunted in reply and shook the man's hand from his shoulder, sitting up and rubbing his face with one hand as he slid out of bed, cursing himself for having so little money he had to live with someone else. Such dreams and memories weren't things he wanted uninterrupted, and Jake had an annoying habit of always knowing when such things were running through his head whether he was asleep or awake.

Shuffling into the living room, Francis leaned against the door frame to watch the TV, the scene flickering between the remains of a Witch covered in a white sheet and the frightened people who lived on the street where it had been found, the blood soaked front entry of the house the Witch had been kept in…

Zoey's house.

The reporter was standing right in front of Zoey's house.

Straightening, Francis moved to the couch and sat down, leaning closer and turning up the sound to hear what the reporter was saying.

"-brave teenager got her father's gun from the safe in his room and put the creature out of her misery before anymore unfortunate death's occurred. Because of her bravery, many people can sleep soundly in their beds in the nights to come. Julie Fairman, Channel 5 news reporting."

Francis stared at the screen for a few seconds in silence, Jake breaking it with a soft curse.

"Can't believe it… I thought they were gone for sure. Hey, where are you going?" Jake asked as Francis stood, moving to grab his shoes, some socks and a jacket. "Dude, it's like 2 in the morning. Where the fuck are you going?!"

"To see my girl." Francis grunted, Jake goggling at him for a moment before spluttering a question in his direction. "The one that shot that vampire."

"Zombie man. Zombie." Jake said a little breathlessly, looking overwhelmed. "You're dating a girl? A teenage girl for that matter? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause I didn't ever want her to meet you. You're more of a sleazeball than I am." Francis growled, slipping his jacket on and wrenching his door open.

His bike roared to life a few minutes later, and he peeled out into the street to sail in the direction of Zoey's house.

He didn't care what her father would have to say about this, right now Zoey would need him.

He was her knight in rusty armor, after all, and she would need him tonight to put her head back on her shoulders where it belonged.

After all that had changed in the world, Francis was pretty sure that hadn't.

…

Her father didn't speak after the reporters moved away to interview witnesses that may have information on the girl Zoey had been forced to kill. They stood together for a time, her father regarding her thoughtfully and a few times opening his mouth as if he were about to say something before thinking better of it.

Zoey was the first one to break the silence, sighing shortly before looking up at him.

"You could just admit you were wrong about the whole zombie killing thing and I'd be happy." She remarked, her father blinking at her and frowning a bit. "You don't even have to apologize if it's too hard."

"Why do you make me out to be such a monster?" Her father replied softly, Zoey's cheeks growing warm as she frowned.

"I'm not saying you're a monster. You're a chauvinist and you can never be wrong… You hate apologizing no matter how wrong you are even if you DO admit it. That doesn't make you a monster, it just makes you a man. But you WERE wrong about this, and I think you need to admit it so we can all move on with our lives." She said heatedly, her father shaking his head and looking at the ground.

"I was wrong." He said after a moment, Zoey folding her arms beneath her breasts. "I was wrong about what you are capable of. I was wrong about you holding your own out there in the world. But despite you being able to defend yourself against zombies, you're still my little girl. At least in my eyes."

He gestured to the scene nearby, looking back at her as he continued.

"This was very brave of you. And smart. You thought quickly and did what must have been so terribly hard to do. I'm proud of you for that."

"Proud, but your little girl hasn't grown up yet, huh? All filled out and shooting guns and killing zombies, but still not grown up yet." Zoey remarked, turning away from him to head inside.

"When will anything I say ever be good enough for you?!" he called after her, Zoey stopping briefly before turning to face him and continuing to walk backwards.

"I could ask the same of you, Dad! I could ask the same of you…" She replied.

Cheryl moved to join her husband, an anguished look in her eyes. There was no way her husband would be able to save face after this display… not with all these people watching and the cameras still ever present. This spectacle would be the talk of the town for some time…

But he wouldn't be the one taking center stage. In fact, they were more likely to label him nasty things on the covers of newspapers than praise him for what a good job he was doing as a father, no matter what he said now.

As Cheryl opened her mouth to speak however, there was a roar in the distance, a motorcycle turning onto the street. It was stopped by the blockade at the end of the street, the police men there speaking to whomever was riding it as it stopped.

Cheryl recognized the outline of the person, her hand tightening on her husband's arm.

"You see?" She whispered. "You see how much he cares for her? He must have been driving fast enough to break a few laws just to get to her to see if she's alright. How could you possibly still want to keep them apart?"

Her husband looked at her for a moment in shock, then took in a breath and moved towards the end of the street while Cheryl looked on helplessly. Zoey came rushing back out of the house upon hearing the bike, moving to join her mother as her father continued on, stopping at the blockade to speak to the police, and to Francis.

…

"Gentleman. Thank you for doing such a good job down here…" The policemen turned to face Zoey's father, Francis' eyes widening and his jaw clenching in annoyance.

The arrogant prick probably came to rub this in his face…

"But he's with me." The man continued, looking up to meet Francis' eye. They stared at one another for a long time in silence, then Francis nodded at him, stepping past the police and falling in step with Zoey's father as he walked towards the two women waiting on the street nearby.

"Trying to save face?" Francis growled after a few seconds of silence, Zoey's father tensing ever so slightly.

"Don't make me change my mind about this." The man replied, and Francis grunted. "We had a discussion about you tonight… and I don't like you. I don't think I ever will… but that's my right as a father. I don't think I'll like any man my daughter brings home, least of all a man like you who she met under the direst of circumstances who may or may not have taken advantage of-"

"Stop right there." Francis interrupted, Zoey's father stopping in place and looking at him in a disgruntled manner. "I didn't take advantage of her. And I know you'll never believe me when I say it, but Zoey came to ME. This whole thing started because she came to me. And you better damn well believe that I made sure she was sure about it. About EVERYTHING."

"You're right." Zoey's father muttered. "I don't believe you. And if she told me the same thing, I still wouldn't believe you. I'm not doing this for you… I'm doing this for her. For all I care, you could get devoured by those things, those zombies, and the world would be better off for it."

With that, the man turned and continued walking, Francis staring at his back for a long moment before a flash of brown hair and blue eyes hurtled towards him and Zoey threw herself into his arms.

He wrapped his tattooed arms around her, held her close, and nothing else in the world mattered.