His apartment should be cleaner and he knows it, but he's been busy. Right now, however, carrying Veronica through the dark and stubbing his toe on whatever the hell is on the floor and considers a job change. If this what 'busy' gets him, he'll go back to working the drive-thru like he did at 17. He gets her to his room and tugs off her shoes, jacket and belt. He hesitates before taking her jeans off and can't help but look at her underwear. Suddenly he feels like some 14 year old prick, who's only just learned what goes where and is trying it out on some unsuspecting- I need to stop this. Right now, he thinks.

He picks up her legs and slides them under the covers. Then he turns out the light and walks out of his room. He sits down in front of the tv, barely pausing to take off his belt (his tie is back in his office, hung over the back of his chair, where it lives) before falling dead asleep on the couch. In his dream their faces are shifting and all the blonde hair is confusing him.

She feels the sun on her face. It's too bright to stay asleep and everything smells unfamiliar. And she's not wearing pants. She bolts up but stops, wincing - her head feels like it's going to fall off. Everything about last night is fuzzy; she can remember breaking windows and then...someone brought her coffee, just the way she likes it. Dad? No, he was off in Brazil, chasing down some fucking murderer or mafioso or something. Ever since her investigation of Logan's...Logan's death, she's walked away from Mars Investigations and hasn't looked back. She and her dad have been drifting apart and she's moved out, living on campus with Mac.

But she can smell bacon and she sees her jeans folded on the floor.

It's confusing.

After she gets dressed, she opens the door and there's Lamb. Asleep on the couch. She looks back into the room she was sleeping in; how the hell could she have missed it? There's a Devo poster and a signed Clint Eastwood photo. There's a framed poster from the movie 'Unforgiven'. And there are pictures. One of a nice looking girl with dyed red hair, blue eyes and big boobs. She's hugging photo Lamb and giving a huge cheesecake smile to the camera, while he gives her bunny ears, a sly but happy look on his face. One of his parents, one of a little kid riding a horse that looks kind of old and...

Veronica picks up the last photo. It's of her, Keith, Lianne and Lamb. Keith and Lamb are both wearing aprons one that says 'Kiss the Cook!' and 'The Biggest Steaks Are From Texas'. She's only 13 in the picture, still young, still so fucking young, with barbecue sauce smeared on her face, smiling open -mouthed at the camera. Lianne is laughing. Everybody's happy.

She has the same photo in a box at home. When Lamb had told her to get some backbone (when she was barely sixteen for Christ sake, who could blame her?), she'd cut his face out of the picture. When Lianne had stolen her college money, not once but twice, she'd cut her out too. And yet here it was, all in one piece, all of her bitterness staring right at her.

She grabs the picture, walks quickly out of the room again and Lamb is sitting up and kicking off his shoes, something he must have forgotten the night before. "Hey," she says, a little bit angrily. He looks at her, bleary-eyed as if trying to figure out what she's doing there. "Why do you have that picture of us?"

"What picture? What time is it?" He rolls up his sleeve to check his watch.

"The picture in your room. The one of me and you and my parents. Why do you have it still?"

He looks at her for a second and she's suddenly afraid that he'll tell her to get out and never come back... It's completely irrational, so she chalks it up to the hangover. He sighs and says "Do you remember when I used to practically live at your house?" She nods. "Because it reminds me of that." He looks at her. She's not satisfied. "Do you remember that day?"

She shrugs. "A little."

"Do you remember when you asked me to hold your hand during the fireworks? You were like, 14."

She looks at him and doesn't say anything. She realizes she's blushing.

"Yes." She almost whispers it.

He laughs a little and she's about to jump on it, to tell him to go fuck himself, but then she realizes that he's not laughing at her. So she laughs a little too.

"Yeah. I remember. Holding hands was like, second base back then." She grins at him. "So. What do have to do to get some food around here?"

He grins at her and winks.

"Ew," she groans. He gets up and walks over to his kitchenette. He pulls two boxes out of the freezer. "Waffles or pancakes?"

She looks at him, incredulous. "Why do you have Eggos? Aren't you supposed to outgrow that at in college?"

"I work late nights and my microwave operates without the use of pots, pans or even dishes sometimes." He looks at her like she's an idiot. "And I got kicked out of college Miss "My -Scholarship-Doesn't-Involve-the-Use-of-My Knees".

He gives her a nasty look. "Unless it does." Same old Lamb. Same lame jokes.

"No Lamb. Sucking off people to get ahead is your department. I mean, how else did you get re-elected?"

They pause for a second. He's glad that things are sort of like they used to be, even if it's just for a second. She smiles a little. She hasn't really thought about it, but right this second, she's glad she's here, instead of with Mac who would give her annoyed looks and barely speak with her, angry after another night of drunken stupidity.

"Well, if you take me to IHOP I promise that won't involve any dishes. Or pots or pans. It will, in fact, involve less then twenty dollars."

He sighs and looks at her. "Fine. But don't expect me to get the tip. That's your job."