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Major was in the kitchen prepping dinner, trying to do so quietly because Peyton had the mother and grandmother of all hangovers … and neither of them was in any mood to talk, anyway. Not with the way the meeting had ended. It wouldn't have entirely surprised Major if the sky lit up with nukes above their heads. Could a zombie survive a nuclear attack? He didn't want to find out.

Ravi and Liv came in, wrapping up a case as they moved through the hall and into the kitchen. Ravi went straight for Peyton, gently asking about her hangover. Major had to admit, he hadn't seen the two of them coming, and there had been a while when he was sure his roommate was tilting at an impossible windmill, but they were solid together now. If only he and Liv— Well, no one's life was perfect. Certainly not his.

"It's a fitting end to my career as mayor," Peyton said wearily. "I barely remember doing anything; all I'm left with is the pain. Oh." She winced. "I feel like a shower hook is stabbing into my brain."

Major looked up at her, frowning. Had that really been necessary?

Peyton's eyes met his and she winced again, in regret this time. "Oh. Too soon?"

"Yeah." Would it ever not be too soon? Major wasn't sure. He'd seen a lot, but watching a man impale himself to avoid answering questions might have been one thing too many.

"Too soon for what?" Liv asked.

"Some guy at Fillmore Graves impaled himself on a shower hook," Peyton explained.

"What?"

"We caught him using a doctored key card to steal Max Rager, so he killed himself." The words felt so inadequate for what it had been like to actually be there and witness it.

"Oh, my god. It seems a bit extreme," Liv said.

"Tell me about it."

Major moved to the sink to start rinsing vegetables. Behind him, Ravi and Liv ducked into the bathroom. He could hear them whispering, but it seemed far removed from the importance of scrubbing the last bit of dirt off each and every carrot. The world was falling to pieces; they might not be alive much longer. Major intended to experience every moment, however mundane or humdrum, to the fullest.

When they emerged from the bathroom, Liv had her excited but nervous voice as she asked Major to keep their food warm for them, because she and Ravi had to run an errand.

He wasn't going to ask. He was pretty sure he didn't want to know. He just nodded and wished them well, and returned to chopping vegetables in the silent kitchen while Peyton stared straight ahead of her, because that was all either of them had the energy for.

Liv and Ravi didn't get back until well after Major had given up on keeping the food warm and followed Peyton's example, dragging his depressed self off to bed, not sure whether he hoped he would wake up in the morning or not.

Ravi had come and gone by the time Major got up in the morning, dragging himself off to the office with some reluctance. The day was normal, though—or what passed for normal in New Seattle these days. No new crises, nothing unexpected.

Until he got home and found Ravi at the dinner table in front of a bountiful spread of really decadent food. "Tetsuo sushi? What's the occasion?" Major asked.

"I knew how much you like to come home after a hard day at the paramilitary office to find some brain rolls waiting for you."

"Ravi, I love you," Major breathed, only exaggerating a little bit as he hugged his roommate close, resting his head on top of Ravi's.

"Oh. Okay."

Letting go, Major took his seat on the other side of the table. "Wait …" He studied the food. God, it looked good. But it looked too good. "Toro rolls and wagyu." He looked up at Ravi searchingly. "You need a favor."

"Uh … it's just that there's a … there's a … thing that I thought, you know, we could do together," Ravi stammered. "Might be a fun change of pace for both of us."

"What, like bowling?"

"Yeah … no. More of a 'locate some kidnapped teens' kind of thing."

Major raised his eyebrows, waiting for the details.

Ravi leaned forward. "It's the missing Freylich kids. I found someone who might lead us to someone who just might know where they might be. If we're lucky."

"Sounds rock solid."

In answer, Ravi took out a folder, opened it, searched through, then brandished a photo in Major's face. "Clarissa Bates. Human girlfriend of rich zombie Edward Franzen, bought a Freylich brain, turned human, then got murdered by his jealous zombie wife."

Major took the photo and studied it. "You don't think the rich guy found the dealer?"

"Wife described him as a shy finance geek who couldn't catch a cab, much less navigate the illicit brain trade. But Ms. Bates here …" He handed the entire folder over to Major, who had to admit, his interest was piqued. A good old-fashioned mystery was downright fun compared to the rest of the things he spent his days working on.

"Okay," he said, "so where do I fit in?"

"Well, one thing that was clear is that Clarissa Bates is desperate to get out of Seattle. And she's tired of dating old sugar daddies. So. I figured a dashing specimen such as yourself might, you know—"

"That's what this is about?" Major couldn't remember the last time he'd thought of himself as dashing … but it might be nice to remember, for a change. "You want me to be some kind of gigolo bait?"

"Oh. I was thinking 'spy'. It sounds cooler and less dirty."

Major took up a napkin, snapping it briskly and tucking it in to his shirt collar. "Okay. Let's get weird."

Ravi frowned at him. "Is that a yes?"

"That's a 'let's dig into this fabulous spread' … then yes." Major grinned, reaching for the sushi.