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Major entered the kitchen to the sound of the blender, as Peyton was making a smoothie. It was kind of like old times having her always around, and Liv in and out of his bed—and kind of like new times, too, with Ravi here. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

As Peyton shut down the blender, Ravi smiled at her in a "just-been-bested" kind of way, the two of them clearly in the middle of a conversation. "You're the worst."

Looking between the two of them, Major asked, "I miss something?"

"Just Peyton, showing no mercy to my neurosis about womankind."

"Oh, okay, let's get it all out in the open, manthing." Peyton gestured with her empty glass, the full blender in the other hand. Major watched it with some trepidation. He'd seen what Peyton could do once she got into an animated conversation, and he didn't relish trying to squeegee smoothie off the wood floor. Then Peyton carried war into his camp. "What about Liv?"

"Huh?" Major looked up, not having anticipated this line of questioning.

"She's not glomming onto you, is she? Not 'cramping your style'? Not being too needy?" The words were aimed at Ravi, but they didn't describe Liv, regardless.

"No. It's all good." It sounded inadequate, so he added, "Real good," then cringed, because that sounded like protesting too much. They were happy. So happy. Except for the lack of sex, and Liv's mood swings, and Vaughn du Clark … Super happy. Better than not being together, so none of the rest of it mattered … or so he told himself.

Peyton stared at him, waiting.

And out it came. Here, where everyone knew about the special circumstances, here he could explain how hard it was, how he worried sometimes about whether they could keep this up. Right? "I mean … today she left me a voice mail about how drowning would be a beautiful way to die … but otherwise—you know—same old Liv."

Peyton took a gulp of smoothie and Ravi winced, looking down at his hands. They knew what it was like. They lived with it. So did Liv, and it wasn't as though she liked it, or chose it, and he was the one who had sent her to the damn boat party, and this was what life was now, so he might as well just get over it, shouldn't he?

"Uh, yeah," Ravi said into the silence. "She's rolling hard on a death-obsessed magician. It'll pass. She just needs to eat someone else's brain."

It was still startling to Major how calmly Ravi took all this. Sure, he had been the first to know about Liv's new normal, and he understood it better than anyone else, but to hear him talk about eating brains as if it was everyday stuff … Major wasn't sure he was ever going to get there.

"Is that all?" he asked, pointedly.

"Mm-hm."

"Right." He should let this go, just be okay with it all and be the Major Liv needed him to be. But here in this kitchen, where everyone knew, here he could ask, right? Here he could talk about it. "So, uh, question? Since the two of you have … really experienced Zombie Liv firsthand: How extreme can her personality swings get?" He thought he had seen some stuff in the past few weeks, but he wanted to know if it got worse. Actually, he didn't want to know—but he needed to.

Peyton made a considering face, but didn't answer.

Ravi said, "She can be a bit mercurial. But most of the time I enjoy the variety. Of course, I don't have to date her."

"There was the one time when her eyes turned red and she killed someone, but I'm thinkin' that was probably a one-off," Peyton offered. Ravi nodded over his coffee.

So this was what it had come to. From saving lives in surgery to taking them in her kitchen, and everyone else seemed able to accept it calmly. Of course, Peyton had left town for months, Major reminded himself. She'd had time to think, to consider, to come to terms.

"A one-off," he repeated.

Ravi nodded again, but his face was a bit twisted, as though he didn't entirely believe it was a one-off. Maybe he knew about other incidents. Maybe Major should ask about them.

Maybe Major didn't want to know.

"That's good," he said, instead of asking.

Peyton put her glass down, and reached for his hand. "Hey. You'll get through this. She's still Liv, just … with hella PMS. All the time."

"Every man's dream."

"It's not forever," Ravi told him. "I am going to find a cure. I won't let her go on like this forever. I promise you that."

"I know you won't. I'm … very glad she stumbled into you."

"Me, too," Peyton said softly. "When I think of what her life was like after that boat party, and then there you were and you understood, and you helped her, and let her know she wasn't alone … Thank you."

"My pleasure." Ravi cleared his throat, uncomfortable with sincerity. "I … Not only is she my friend, she's a fascinating test subject."

"Just what every guy wants to hear his roommate say about his girlfriend. Seriously, do I have to check your room for saws?"

"No, but do keep an eye out for rats."

Both Major and Peyton stared at him in alarm.

"Kidding! Kidding! The rats are all in the morgue."

"Don't tell me what they eat." Peyton shuddered.

"They eat a very carefully balanced diet, thank you very much, none of it brains. Well … there was the time New Hope got out of her cage and ate all her fellow subjects, but …"

"One-off?" Major asked.

"One-off."

"Right."

Ravi got to his feet, carrying his coffee cup to the sink. "Look, Major, hang in there."

"I will. She's … she's worth it."

"Damn right she is," Peyton echoed.

"Thanks, guys." Major wasn't sure he felt better—but he wasn't alone, and that counted for a lot.