When he came to in the skate park, Major was pissed, embarrassed … and in a lot of freaking pain. He limped back to his car, feeling blood running slowly down his cheeks from the cuts on his face. It itched like crazy, too, but he couldn't keep reaching up to scratch. He thought he might have broken a finger. How was that possible? he thought, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the space, even though he had no clue where to go in this situation. That Candy-Man guy was big, yeah … but Major was a former football player. All-Conference, for crying out loud! He was a regular at the gym, and no slouch in the ring. And yet the Candy-Man had wiped the floor with him. Literally. He was going to have to come up with some kind of lie to tell Ravi—

No, he wasn't. Ravi could help. He pulled a totally illegal Uie and headed for the morgue.

He was glad Liv wasn't there when he arrived, sneaking in the back so no one else could see his bloodied face.

Ravi turned around from his computer. "Major? What the hell?"

"You should see the other guy? Actually, you really should." Major slumped against one of the tables. "He looks a hell of a lot better than I do."

"What happened?"

Major lay back on the table, closing his eyes and letting Ravi clean him up, not even concerned that usually people were dead when this happened to them. He told Ravi the whole story.

Eventually the worst of the injuries had been bandaged, and he'd been mostly washed off, but the facial lacerations remained. Ravi clucked his tongue. "This is not my forte."

Once that would have mattered. Major had always taken pride in his looks. But not anymore. Who cared? "Go ahead. Whatever."

"You're sure?"

"Just … do it."

"All right," Ravi said doubtfully. Things clattered as he arranged them next to the table and Major held still … until Ravi actually began the stitching process, which was painful enough that holding still really wasn't an option.

"Ow!"

"You're the one who asked me to do this." Major twitched away from the needle. "Easy," Ravi said. "You're lucky you're not dead. Although if you were, this would come much more naturally to me." He did something fiendishly painful at Major's hairline.

Major asked, "You know what you're doing, right?" Ravi had said this wasn't his forte, but Major had assumed he was just being modest.

"I mean, theoretically … sure?" Ravi tugged at the thread. "Did you consider a trip to the ER?"

"I'm a social worker. My insurance covers, like, one Band-Aid a year."

"Major?" It was Liv. Major had hoped to avoid her, not wanting to have to explain what had happened, but now, in the face of Ravi's obvious discomfort with the stitching process, Major thought he might be pretty happy Liv was here. She dropped her purse and hurried toward him. "What the hell?"

"It's nothing," he said quickly.

Liv came around the table, looking over Ravi's shoulder. "Those are Y incision stitches. They need to be closer together … unless you're going for that Frankenstein look."

Frankenstein? Major's eyebrows flew up. What was Ravi doing to him?

"The man's too good-looking. I'm giving him character," Ravi explained airily.

"Should I just take over?"

Major blessed Liv's superiority complex, the one that would never let someone else do something because she always knew she could do a better job. Annoying while cooking together, sure, but damned useful when someone else was making a mess of stitches on your face.

Ravi must have agreed. He dropped the needle like it burned him. "Please, god, yes."

Liv took over, her face scrunching up in concentration. "How did this happen?"

"He got into a fight," Ravi said helpfully.

"I went looking for Jerome."

"And found the Candy-Man."

Major looked up at Liv. "Remember? The guy Jerome said was handing out Utopium, inviting kids back to his van?"

"He's a real person, then? The Candy-Man?"

"He was wearing Jerome's high-tops." Major was angry all over again, just talking about it. The guy had known what happened to Jerome, and Major had utterly failed to get anything out of him at all.

"How did you know they were Jerome's?" Liv asked. She tugged at the stitch, but somehow it didn't hurt when she did it. "They were cool shoes, but they weren't one of a kind."

"They were Jerome's." The guy had as good as admitted it, after all.

"So our friend here went full vigilante," Ravi added. "Batman versus the Candy-Man. Point: Candy-Man."

"And I assume that fight solved everything?" Liv asked. "You and the Candy-Man shook hands, and he led you right to Jerome."

Her sarcasm aside, Major didn't know what else he could have done. "He knows something, I know it," he insisted.

"You're a social worker, not a cop. You could have been killed."

Major grinned up at her as best he could in his current position, warmed by her concern for him, by the sheer familiarity of Liv in doctor-mode, Liv in caring mode. For so long, it had seemed like she didn't care about anything at all, and now here she was scolding him for getting too involved in his work, too emotionally over-committed, just the way she used to. "I was an All-Conference strong safety for the Washington Huskies, baby. A head-hunter." His smile widened, the conversation a familiar one. Liv had never been impressed by his physical prowess or his posturing as a tough guy—it was one of the things he had always liked about her, that she saw him for everything he was, not just for his physique. "I'm a dangerous man."

She rolled her eyes, just like she used to. "The Candy-Man is dangerous-er. Please, promise me that that's the last time you'll take matters into your own hands. There's a reason—"

Raising his voice to reach Ravi, who had wandered away from the conversation, Major said, "Liv tell you about the guy she met at the wake the other night? Musician-type? If I hadn't stumbled in and totally rocker-blocked this dude— Ow!" He couldn't help chuckling through the pain, though. Nice to know he could still get Liv's goat, even if he had to be okay with her seeing other guys to do it.

"Quite an imagination you have there," she said, her voice chilly.

He caught her gaze, looking into her eyes, no longer joking. "Have some faith in me. All right? I've been girding myself for this day." He had, too, for months. Sleeping with Corinne, he had had to face the idea that Liv would eventually do the same with someone else, and he had accepted this as the price for her friendship. He gave her his best smile, the one that always made her laugh, no matter how mad she was. "Come on. Who's your buddy? I'm your buddy."

She didn't laugh, but she relented, at least a little.

"Eager to share the highs and lows of your life," Major assured her. He always had been, of course, but things were different now, and if being her buddy was what he could get, then being her buddy was what he would take, and be glad for it.

"Mm-hm." Liv wasn't convinced, he could tell, but she was getting there. What with the suturing and all, this might have been the most normal conversation they'd had in months. Major didn't even mind when Ravi interrupted with news of a dead body. "Just a second. I don't want it to pop," Liv told him, tying off the stitch.

"It's fine," Major assured her. "Chicks dig scars."

That got at least a half-smile, which was enough for today. He'd look forward to the day he could make her laugh again. But for now, this was enough. And he no longer felt quite so beaten, emotionally or physically. This was why he was lucky to have Liv, in whatever form he could.