It was only after Norman's grandmother had fallen asleep that they realized that Shane and Oliver had disappeared. "Do you think they're all right?" Rita asked anxiously, peering down the hallways on the off chance that they might be coming around a corner. They technically hadn't been in danger in the bank vault, but after they'd gone missing at the pageant she couldn't help but be a little more concerned than she might have been otherwise.

"I think so." Norman sounded thoughtful as they headed down the corridor. "As long as they're together."

Rita's smile was only a little sad. "That's true." The way Shane had looked at Oliver the last few days was suspiciously familiar. She really needed to remember to give her a hug.

Norman looked over at her, the corners of his mouth curving upward in a brief, wonderful smile. "Do you want to go get some pudding?"

Rita's eyes widened at the reminder. "Oh!" She pulled the container and spoon out of her pocket. "I forgot to tell you, but I got you some while you were talking to Joshua and Matt." She blushed, flustered by the fact that he had suddenly stopped walking. She held it out to him. "I know how much you like pudding after a big day."

He stared down at the container in her hand, a dozen different emotions flickering across his face. When he finally met her eyes, though, he just seemed resolved. "I wanted your book to be about us," he said quietly.

Rita's mouth dropped open as her brain frantically checked to see if she'd suddenly started daydreaming. "What?"

Now, she saw a faint, very familiar sadness in his eyes. "Your love story. I wanted it to be about us." Carefully, he took the pudding from her hand. He tried smiling again, but it wasn't the same. "It's okay that it wasn't, though."

"But ... but I ..." Why couldn't she get her mouth to work? In love stories, the heroine always knew exactly the right thing to say in moments like this, solving the terrible misunderstanding with poetic, perfect words that would make the hero sweep her into his arms for a passionate kiss. But here, now, when it really mattered, she couldn't even get out a complete sentence.

There was one thing, though, she could do.

Rita threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. Norman was completely frozen, and after a few seconds she stumbled backwards with a mortified expression. "I'm so sorry," she began. "I know I probably shouldn't have done that, but I said the novel wasn't about you and it really was but I didn't know how to ..."

She let the words trail off when Norman blinked. "The book was about us?"

Rita nodded, not really trusting herself to say anything else.

For a moment, he didn't move. Then he nodded to himself, walked over to one of the chairs lining the hallway, and set the pudding and spoon down on the seat. Then he walked back to Rita, taking her hands in his. Rita stopped breathing.

Norman looked down at their joined hands, then looked back up at her. He cleared his throat. "Do ... you think we could do that again?"

Rita's heart gave a single, wild leap, and she threw her arms around Norman again. This time, he kissed her back.

As it turned out, love stories weren't nearly as wonderful as reality.