When Major got home, pumped from patrol, which had gone unexpectedly well, Ravi looked like he'd just found a spider in his biscuit. His lip curled as Major came into the kitchen. "Her nibs is upstairs. Please keep her there."

Major raised his eyebrows. "Bad brain?"

Ravi made a long-suffering face at him. "It's not quite as bad as radio psychologist brain … well, I suppose that depends on who you're talking to. But it comes close."

"Great." Major took the stairs more slowly than he would have otherwise, wondering where this fell on the scale compared to jealous girlfriend brain. He opened his door cautiously, to see Liv posed on his bed wearing some peach satin lingerie that definitely met with his approval. Her hair was done weirdly, all upswept and stiff, but otherwise … she seemed like Liv. "Hey. You say something to Ravi?"

"What? No. I only asked him if he minded detailing my car while I was here."

"Detailing your car?"

"It's absolutely filthy. Also, I may have suggested that he chauffeur me home." She showed him a set of perfectly manicured nails. "I wouldn't want to chip, after all."

"No. Definitely wouldn't want that." So, prissy, bossy, and snobby. Major could understand Ravi's displeasure, and he wondered how this brain had gone over with Clive. From his perspective … well, as long as she didn't mind putting the manicure in jeopardy for a little naked fun, he thought he could live with it. "You mind if I get changed?"

She smiled, a predatory smile that Major didn't mind at all. "Please. I like a good show." As he started unloading his pockets and putting things away, she managed to become Liv again long enough to ask, "How did the new recruits do today?"

Major shook his head. "I wasn't sure how they were going to handle it. They were so nervous in the locker room, and then we got out there … I mean, it was seriously scary on that street. Have I told you that humans just blast away on shotguns randomly when they see our patrols? They think it's hilarious. So, of course, we're all jumpy, and I'm thinkin' 'these kids are gonna blow it'—totally green, first day on the patrol …" He grinned, thinking about how it had been, the two of them so serious, so anxious to get it right. "But they hung tough. Kept their cool, listened …"

"Great story," Liv interrupted as he approached the bed. She patted the spot next to her. "Now, why don't you come over here, you dirty little soldier boy, and let Mama show you a trick I like to call 'the Loni Anderson'."

Loni Anderson? He vaguely remembered her. "Do I want to ask what brain you're on right now?"

"Why don't you just work on being the strong, silent type."

He could handle that. Something about her—dominant, sure of herself, predatory, hungry—was working for him just fine. He joined her on the bed, surprised as she winced when his hands settled on her.

"Watch the hip."

For a minute, he wasn't sure how this was going to go, but then she was kissing him, with a directness and a determination that sent Major's brain spinning. By the time they got to the Loni Anderson, he was as aroused as he could remember being in a long time, and life was good. Life was damn good.

His upbeat mood was still with him when he woke up in the morning. Liv stirred and grumbled and hid her face under the covers as he got up and headed for the kitchen to start the coffee and a little bit of fresh brain breakfast.

Ravi was reading the paper in the breakfast nook. "Pancakes?" he asked, watching Major get the ingredients out.

"Oh, yeah."

"Apparently snobby rich white lady brain is good for something, then," his roommate snarked.

"You have no idea."

"No, and I beg you not to tell me."

"You going to want some of these?"

"Yeah, I could do with some, thanks."

"With or without?" Major lifted the bowl of brain bits.

"Without. It's not my time of the month."

The things you got used to, Major mused, adding a handful of someone else's chopped up brains to his pancake batter. Being a zombie, being a mercenary, patrolling the streets keeping horror movie monsters safe from humans, your roommate being a zombie only three days out of the month … having casual sex with a woman you would otherwise have been married to. Surprisingly, all of that was working out pretty well. He flipped his spatula in the air, cheering himself as he caught it, before pouring several rounds of batter into the pan.

The first batch was done on one side, just starting to brown on the other when he heard Liv's voice. "Good morning!"

"Morning!" He leaned over the counter toward her. "Liv. Last night? The Loni Anderson?" She gave him a very self-satisfied look, clearly as pleased with herself as he was with her. "That was a next-level maneuver," he whispered.

But not quietly enough, because Ravi cleared his throat and slurped his tea loudly and pointedly, without raising his eyes from the paper.

Major noticed Liv already had her things together. "Where you rushing off to?"

"I have things to do, darlin'," she said lightly. "And I'm not in the habit of crashing this swinging bachelor pad filled with sweaty young men."

"Seems like a habit," Ravi snarked, eyes still firmly fixed on the newspaper.

Liv frowned at him. Major thought about that for a moment. She did stay over more and more often these days, as they blew off steam, coming together to forget the troubles involved in living in New Seattle. Did that mean they were … together? Did that mean they had settled their disagreement over the zombie-human debate?

Ravi's voice, sing-songing "Something's burning," recalled Major to the moment—a moment in which his pancakes were a burnt mess. He grabbed the pan off the stove and dropped it into the sink, opening a window to let the smoke out.

"Guys! " Ravi complained.

Meanwhile, Liv was frozen, staring off into space in unmistakable vision mode. "What'd you see?" Major asked as she gasped and came out of it.

"Were you losing your virginity to Howard Hughes?" Ravi asked.

She glared at him. "I believe I'll be saving that information for my driver."

"Liv. Clive isn't your drive—"

Before Ravi could finish the sentence, Liv had pulled a miniature bottle of booze out of her purse and uncorked it. "But first I need to get in nine holes at the club." She drained the bottle and set off down the hall, walking stiffly. Apparently the brain really was affecting her hip.

Ravi returned to his paper and his cup of tea, asking, "Does she have a country club membership?"

"I don't think she has clubs," Major responded. She looked damned good, though.

Once she was gone, he returned to his pancakes, although some of the fun had gone out of them without Liv to cook for.