FSE

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"Wow," Mike said. "Nice place." And it was. He had guessed, of course, from the outside that the inside would be equally attractive, but it is always different to see than it is to imagine. The wolf's jaw was slightly open, and he knew he was gaping, but he couldn't help it.

The front door opened to a very open layout. The living room lay immediately to the left, its carpet bordered by a half-wall on one side and laminate leading away from the front door. The carpet and laminate were both lighter shades, grey and tan respectively, but it wasn't the floor that held Mike's attention. A chesterfield was flush against the half-wall, and a small wooden end table stood on each side of it. The far wall had a matching white leather loveseat, which shared an end table with the chesterfield. The walls were dark blue, and the one above the loveseat held around a dozen framed photographs. The large window directly across from the chesterfield let in plenty of natural light. A flat screen TV was on a stand, forming a diagonal from the edge of the window to the edge of the entryway, so both couches had a clear view. A lamp stood in the corner formed by the two outside walls, and a table lamp sat on the end table that was shared by the two couches. Mike was already impressed, and he had only seen one room.

While Mike was gawking, Nick kicked off his shoes haphazardly onto a mat by the door and hung his coat in the closet directly to the right. He turned back to see the wolf staring at the living room with an odd expression. Nick thought he recognized longing, and perhaps a touch of envy, but there was something else there, too. Nostalgia, perhaps, and sadness. Or was it loss? the cheetah wondered. Putting aside his speculations, Nick cleared his throat.

"Do you want the tour?" he asked, a small grin on his face. It was kind of funny, he thought, to see a wolf looking akin to a country boy on his first trip to the city.

Mike came back to himself with the cough and the comment and blushed slightly, although not enough to be seen under his fur. He realized he had been staring like a pauper at a palace, but he hadn't really gone to visit anyone's house in recent times. He was used to his cramped apartment, and to him the house might as well have been a mansion.

"Uh, sure," he said, removing his shoes and coat and placing them next to Nick's.

Nick led him straight down the laminate, which turned to tile on the other side of the half-wall. "Well, you've seen the living room, so let's start with the kitchen," Nick said. "Here it is."

"Ya don't say," Mike said sarcastically.

Nick ignored the comment and pointed out the objects in the room. "So, table, chairs"--straight ahead--"fridge"--opposite side of the room, on the left--"sink, dishwasher, and oven"--lined in a row with counter space separating them on the back wall. There was another window over the sink, Mike noticed. He really enjoyed natural lighting and wished his apartment could have another window or two. Mike had stopped openly gaping, but he was still silently wowed. He would kill for a place like this, figuratively. He surreptitiously glanced at some knives in a wood block and chuckled to himself at his private joke.

"What?" Nick asked, unaware of the wolf's inner commentary.

"You don't wanna know," Mike said, still smirking.

"Yes, I do. What?" Nick persisted.

Mike chuckled a bit more and replied, "Really, it's nothing."

Nick was clearly annoyed that Mike wouldn't tell him, but he let it slide.

"Okay," the cheetah said while stepping back to the laminate which continued down a hallway to their left. "The door at the end of the hallway on the left is my room. I would show you, but it's a bit of a mess." Mike interpreted this as a complete disaster. "First door on the right is a closet. Second is the bathroom."

"And what's behind door number three?" Mike asked.

"Oh," Nick said, "that's just some stuff that doesn't have a place to go."

Mike noticed Nick's voice sounded a little off and wondered at the cause. "What kind of stuff?" he asked.

"You know. Stuff."

"Like...?" When Nick still didn't answer, Mike tried to draw him out. "A paint studio? Cappuccino machines? Sports equipment?" After a short pause, he added, "Dead bodies?"

This drew a surprised laugh out of the cheetah. "Yeah. Right. And a machete."

"I wondered where Smitty's got their meat."

"Yeah, you caught me. Anyway, we're not done the tour yet."

He turned around and head back past the kitchen. Mike followed and saw a railing past the kitchen's wall. Four steps led to a landing with the back door and some hooks for coats. They u-turned at the landing and went down nine steps to the basement. Mike counted stairs almost subconsciously. He had thought that he was done being amazed, but he gasped when he entered the basement.

The basement was almost entirely open. A wall extended from the bottom of the stairwell to the left with a few doors, but everything else was one room. And what a room it is, Mike thought. It was effectively a games room. There was a pool table near the centre of the room, and a card table and chairs were not to far from that. The balls were scattered across the table and the cues rested in a rack on the wall. A couple of couches were lined up in front of a big screen TV that practically shouted, "HD!" There was an xbox 360 sitting underneath the TV with games lined up in a stand. There was even a bar in the corner opposite the stairs. Mike could glimpse a mini-fridge behind it and didn't need a crystal ball to divine its contents. He let out a low whistle.

"Impressive."

"Thanks," Nick said, smiling again, but not quite as widely as before. "First door there is laundry, second is washroom, and the last is a spare bedroom."

"And you live here by yourself? I wouldn't know what to do with all this space!"

"Yeah, I try to have people over every once in a while. It is kind of empty, but I prefer it to a shoe box like you live in. Packed like sardines."

"Hey! I'm no fish. I'm a wolf."

"Sorry," Nick said ironically. "Didn't mean to insult your den."

"Ha, ha," Mike said, making his sarcasm apparent. "You should quit Smitty's and do stand up."

"As if," Nick snorted derisively.

"Well, why not? You clearly don't need the money. You don't get a place like this on a Smitty's paycheck. Or stingy tips."

"Because I think my fur looks better without rotten tomatoes in it."

"You never know. The red might add character."

"Well, you're a funny guy. After you," Nick said while gesturing his arm, as if to give way to the wolf.

"Hmm," Mike said thoughtfully. "I don't see a stage. Should I get up on the bar?"

"No, that'll put off the dancers."

"Perhaps we could make a comedy duo, like Abbott and Costello."

"Sure." Nick grew tired of the extended joke. "You still want hot chocolate or something?"

"Sure." Mike replied. "Hot chocolate would be fine. If I had caffeine, I might be like you. Two people that hyper in one house could spell disaster."

"Gee, thanks," Nick said with an exaggerated pout.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with you. It's just two of you might be too much. One of you, however, is great."

Nick smiled genuinely and led the way back upstairs.

*

A few hours later, they were still sitting at the kitchen table, talking about anecdotes from work and sipping hot chocolate.

"Oh, did you hear?" Mike asked Nick. "Stella got fired."

"Thank God and good riddance," Nick said. "She was terrible. What was the clincher?"

"Well, I thought it would be undercharging about half-a-dozen tables, but apparently spilling the soup of the day all over some poor otter was the last straw."

"Too bad for the otter, but great news for us," Nick said, his ever-present smile growing by a few teeth.

"And the kitchen staff. Poor Benji," Mike replied, shaking his head.

"What'd she do to Benjamin?" Nick asked, curiosity in his eyes. "I know she was hitting on Freddie."

"Well, for Ben it was all of the abuse with none of the flirt."

"Ouch," Nick grimaced. "Well, she is officially part of the past now. I intend to forget all about her."

"You and me both."

The conversation was interrupted by a beeping noise. Nick looked around in confusion for a moment, but Mike just pushed a button on his watch.

"What's the alarm for?" Nick asked.

"I have choir practice tonight. If I don't set an alarm, I forget and miss the bus. I should get home and grab my stuff. I hope the bus is on time today."

"Here, let me give you a ride," Nick said, reaching for his keys.

"No, it's okay. I got a buss pass and everything."

"No, I insist. It's not like I have any pressing business."

Mike didn't want to accept the ride. It was too much like charity. Mike didn't really have anything against charity, but he felt like he was getting along all right. He was proud that he was able to look after himself after leaving home so abruptly. On the other paw, he didn't want to offend Nick, so he grudgingly accepted.

"Okay. If you insist, I guess," he grumbled.

"I do. Try not to be too grateful. You'll only embarrass me," Nick said, smiling so the wolf would know he was joking.

Mike was chastened, however. "Sorry. It's just you're not going anywhere, and it's a ways away. You don't need to use that much gas on my account."

"It's fine," Nick assured him. "I just got it filled up." The cheetah was disquieted to see Mike's frown drop another inch.

Mike saw the almost questioning look Nick gave him before turning to grab his keys and settled his face into a more neutral expression. It wasn't any fault of Nick's, he reflected, that he could fill his car with gas and own a house. While Mike didn't own a car, he knew that gas had risen another few cents recently, so Nick's comment reminded him of the separation in class, for want of a better word, between himself and the cheetah. The gesture touched him, however, so he put a small smile on his face as he went to the front door for his coat and shoes. He went back to the kitchen a moment later to retrieve the sweater he left on the back of a chair.

Finally in possession of his belongings, he joined Nick and the door and followed his spotted companion outside.

*

"So, you're the pianist, right?" Nick asked, eyes on the road. It would be about a fifteen minute drive, taking the icy roads into account. "You do any singing, too?"

"Not really," Mike said in response to the second question. "Some of the songs have such different accompaniment compared to the medley--no, melody--I always get those words mixed up--that I can't follow both without screwing up."

"You good on keys? I mean, obviously you are if you're in a choir, but do you just fiddle with Church music or do you do other stuff, too?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty good with piano. I can play a lot of other stuff. I have a lot of it memorized, and I have a box of music books in my apartment, but I never get a chance to use them nowadays. Ever since I've moved out, I haven't had access to a piano or keyboard outside of the church."

"That's too bad. I'd like to hear you play." When Mike glanced over, he noticed Nick had an odd look in his eyes, but the wolf couldn't tell what it meant. "What kind of music do you play?"

"All kinds of things, really. Church music, obviously. I know quite a few video game songs, especially from NES and stuff. I can play classical, and I wish I had more books with jazz. I know some popular stuff, too. I have a Pirates of the Caribbean book in addition to other movie soundtracks. I just play what I like, and I like a lot, I guess."

"Wow. That's amazing. Do you write anything?"

"No. I arrange occasionally, and I can improvise stuff, but I've never really sat down to write anymore. And I can't now."

"Why not?"

"I'd need a keyboard in front of me. I do it based by sound. I could just write, but I'd have to stick to basic stuff. If I can't hear myself, I can't play either."

"Hmm." Mike had been admiring the scenery, but he turned back to look at Nick again. The cheetah looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself. Mike was a little confused, but decided not to press.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then, Mike decided he should say something to keep the conversation going. "So, what's your family like?" he asked. When he and the cheetah had talked before, it was mostly about trivial things like music or books or the other regular small talk subjects. He really didn't know much about Nick's background. After asking the question, though, Mike silently berated himself. No matter how the cheetah responded, he would undoubtedly ask the same question to him. Even though it was over a year ago, Mike really didn't want to talk about his family. It was still painful to think about his father, and if he said much, his being kicked out would come up. That would lead to why, which in turn could scare Nick away. Mike didn't want that coming out until he knew and trusted Nick more. And maybe not even then. The damage was already done, however, so he just listened to Nick's response.

"Large," Nick said with a smile. He was obviously fond of them. Mike felt a pang of loss, thinking about his own family. "I'm the third of six kids."

"Whoa," Mike said. "Six. Only people I know of who had that many were my grandparents on my mom's side." Great, Mike thought. Why'd I bring that up? The feeling of loss came stronger this time, and the wolf blinked rapidly to stop himself from tearing up.

"Yeah, an older brother and sister and two younger sisters and one younger brother."

"Must have been fun."

"Surprisingly, yes. We got along as well as siblings can, I guess. It got too crowded for me, tough, even after my older siblings left. I needed some space, so I moved out. I still visit. They're here in the city. Every once in a while I babysit when my mom and dad go out."

"Cool. Must be nice, having all those brothers and sisters," Mike said, a little wistfully. He had lost his in a way.

"Yeah. Were you an only child?" Nick asked, glancing at his companion. The wolf was just turning to look out the window, but Nick thought he saw a frown before Mike turned too far for him to see.

"No. I'm the youngest of four. My mom used to call us the two million dollar family. You know, one boy, one girl were one million, so two of each must be two million."

"Very nice. So--"

"Oh, here it is," Mike said, pointing out the window. He was grateful for their timely arrival. He had not been looking forward to answering the cheetah's questions. "No, you can drop me here," he added when Nick looked for a place to u-turn so Mike was on the same side of the street as the church. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," Nick responded, smiling. "When should I pick you up?"

"Wha--No, it's fine. There's a bus here right around when practice ends, so I'll be fine. Here," he said, trying to pass a five dollar bill to the cheetah. "For the gas."

"No, keep your money. I'll count the pleasant conversation as payment."

"Yeah, right."

"Call me when you're done. I'm not doing anything this evening and we're not done our conversation yet."

"Okay," Mike said with a smile. Underneath, though, he was frowning. He liked talking to Nick, but he didn't want to continue this particular talk. Hopefully, he'll forget, Mike thought. "Talk to ya later."

"Yeah, you too," Nick said as he waved. Before driving off, he took one more look at the wolf's retreating back. He could have sworn he had seen a tear in Mike's eye when he was getting out. Maybe it was a trick of the light, Nick thought. Still, he couldn't help but wonder: what had they talked about that could make Mike so sad?

*

Mike shivered. Choir was over, and the bus hadn't come. Choir was long over, in fact. It had finished twenty minutes ago and the bus usually came five minutes after the end. He had been offered a ride, but it was so far out of the way for them that he declined. Some nights, when choir ran late, Mike accepted rides, but he figured the bus would be here. It wasn't. It was also getting colder, and Mike didn't know what to do. He couldn't walk. It would take well over an hour, or maybe over two. He didn't know for sure, but he wasn't inclined to try it and find out. He was about to howl with frustration when it occurred to him: he had a phone.

Berating himself for his stupidity, he looked through the contacts he had entered that day. He dismissed his old friends out of hand. His first contact with them in a year, more or less, couldn't be asking for a ride. That would be awkward if they even could or would. He scrolled through the list one more time, then overcame his self-reproach, highlighted a name, and hit talk.

"Damn!" Mike exclaimed. After five or six rings, it had gone to voice mail. Another hasty look through his phone told him there was no one else. He tried again.

"Come on, come on, pick up," he muttered, shifting back and forth from foot to foot in an effort to keep warm. He had his fur, a t-shirt, a thick sweater, and a winter jacket, but he was still cold. The wind was cutting into him, mocking his protective layers. One ring later, it went to voice mail again. Resigned, the wolf hung up and turned to face the sidewalk. The bus was obviously not coming, and there was no one to drive him. He started to walk towards his apartment, trying not to think of how long and how cold the journey would be. He couldn't help but wonder if he could go that far in this weather.

He had taken three steps when his phone rang. It had been so long since he had had a phone to ring that he instinctively glanced around to see whose phone was ringing. It wasn't until realized something was vibrating on his hip that he remembered. Smacking his forehead with his left paw, he used his right to extract the phone and push talk--a difficult operation with numb fingers. Finally, he got the receiver to his muzzle and said, "Hello?"

"Hey, sorry, Mike. I heard the phone ringing, but I just stepped out of the shower. What's up? Choir's done? Still want to come over?"

"Thank God," Mike couldn't refrain from saying. "The bus was a no-show. I don't want to be a bother, but could you--"

"Sure, no problem. Just give me a sec to grab my keys and stuff. How long have you been waiting, by the way?"

Mike glanced at his watch. "Around twenty-five minutes."

"Holy shit, man, you'll get hypothermia! It's twenty-something below not including wind chill! I'll be there soon."

"Don't you dare speed in these conditions," Mike warned Nick. "If you get into an accident through your own stupidity, I'll never forgive you!"

"Never?" Nick asked. Mike could hear the grin on the other end of the line.

"It's a figure of speech. Drive carefully," Mike said with an air of command.

"Yes, Mom. Try not to freeze your tail off before I get there."

Mike was about to retort when he realized Nick had hung up. "Jerk," Mike said without malice. "Guess I'll have to tell him off about calling me 'Mom' in person."

Mike glared when he saw Nick's headlights ten minutes later. "Hey," Nick said as he Mike got into the car. "Can you feel your toes?"

Mike stared out the window in stony silence.

"What is it? Jaw froze stuck?" Nick asked.

"I told you I'd never forgive you."

"Hey! I didn't speed!"

"Really?" Mike said, incredulity evident in his tone.

"Much," Nick clarified sheepishly. "There must be some way to get you to forgive me."

"Teenagers. They always think they're invincible. No one can touch them," Mike said with an air of superiority.

"I don't think I'm invincible! And I'm legally an adult. I can drink and everything."

"Yeah, you're still nine_teen_, though," Mike said with a smile.

"Besides, you said always. That means you thought no one could hurt you at my age, right?" Nick glanced over at Mike for a moment to see the wolf's response as well as hear it. He expected a self-deprecating chuckle or righteous indignation. Instead, a look of sorrow washed over Mike's face as he turned to look out the window. Nick was surprised, but it confirmed his earlier supposition. Mike had looked sad that last time in the car. Both then and now, Nick was sure Mike didn't catch him looking, but Mike turned away just to be sure Nick wouldn't see.

"Yeah, me too," Mike said quietly. Nick could hear Mike trying to disguise the unhappiness in his voice. Nick's own smile disappeared as he turned his eyes back to the road. If he hadn't looked over, he might have asked what had disillusioned his companion, but Nick didn't want to bring up painful memories. He cast about for another subject and said, "Y'know, we didn't finish our last conversation. You said you had three siblings, but that's as far as we got. What else can you tell me about your family?"

Mike grimaced, secure in the fact that Nick couldn't see his face. He didn't want Nick to feel bad or awkward for asking an innocent question, so Mike tried to hide his unease. "Not much to say. There's me, my sisters and brother, and my mom and dad. Both my sisters are married and moved out, with no kids. My bro still lives in my dad's basement, last I heard."

"Last you heard? And why 'dad's apartment'? Are your parents separated?" Nick realized, a little too late, that he was prying into something that seemed uncomfortable for the wolf. "Sorry, you don't need to answer that."

"No, it's fine," Mike said. "My parents are still together. About four years ago, my mom had a stroke during open heart surgery. She's living at the rehab centre, which is why I said 'my dad's basement.' And 'last I heard' because I haven't really talked to anyone in my family since I moved out a year ago."

"That sucks."

"Meh. It's fine."

Nick could tell from Mike's tone that it wasn't fine. His curiosity was aroused again, but he didn't want to push and be pushed away in turn. He also didn't want to cause Mike more pain than he already felt. It was obvious that something had happened to alienate him from his family. Was it also the reason he sometimes seemed so withdrawn? Nick hadn't socialized with Mike outside of work, something he was now regretting, but the wolf seemed like a good guy. He definitely had a sense of humour and could have fun. Their first meeting had proved that. But, Nick thought, he seems subdued, like he used to be happier. What happened?

Mike, meanwhile, gave his head a mental shake. Now was not the time to dwell on an unpleasant past. He should be happy. After all, Nick had gone out of his way to give him a lift twice today. That should be cause enough for happiness. It made Mike think that they weren't just co-workers anymore. If that was so, it would make Nick the first friend he'd made since leaving home. A bittersweet thought, to be sure, but Mike was determined to look on the bright side.

They sat in silence for a while, but it wasn't an awkward silence. When Nick glanced over at Mike, the wolf's eyes were forward, and he had a small smile. Nick was glad that Mike wasn't down anymore, so the two sat in companionable silence--at least, as silent as a car with the radio playing could be.

Mike was bobbing his head to the music when a song he particularly enjoyed came on the radio. He began singing quietly out of unconscious habit, gradually increasing in volume. He forgot about Nick's being in the car as he stared at the passing lights and sang along.

"You say up. I say down.

We're the most unlikely pair.

Up or down. High or low.

You've always been right there.

"You've been a friend to me.

Yeah, a godsend to me.

And I ain't too proud to say,

You've been a friend to me.

"If I'm feeling low-down.

Feeling ten feet tall.

Thick or thin, the shape I'm in

Don't matter to you at all.

"You've been a friend to me.

Yeah, a godsend to me.

And I ain't too proud to say,

You've been a friend to me.

"Whenever I needed someone,

You're right there on the line.

With a friend like you to get me through,

I get by every time. Yeah!"

Mike bobbed in time to the guitar solo, eyes closed as he enjoyed the music. When the lyrics came back, he was right back in time with them.

"Yeah, you've been a friend to me.

A godsend to me.

"Whenever I needed someone,

You're right there on the line.

With a friend like you to get me through,

I get by every time.

"Yeah, you've been a friend to me.

A godsend to me.

No, I ain't too proud to say,

You've been a friend to me.

"No, I ain't too proud to say,

You've been a friend to me.

Oh, I ain't too proud to say,

You've been a friend to me."

The car was slowing to a stop when Mike finally glanced to the left to see Nick's smiling face. Mike immediately turned back to his right, the red in his face showing even through his fur. The light turned green, and Nick was accelerating by the time Mike finally regained his composure. "Sorry," he said. "I forgot where I was."

"No, it's fine," Nick reassured him. "You're a pretty good singer."

Mike snorted in response.

"No, really," Nick said. "I'm serious. Did you take lessons?"

"Okay," Mike said, a little annoyed, "that's taking the joke a bit far."

"I'm not joking."

Mike looked over at Nick. He looked serious, though he kept his eyes on the road. Mike had never thought much of his singing voice. He just got into the music and sang along, although he usually did it when he was alone or with someone he knew really well. He looked back out his window as grief struck him again. He remembered fondly the road trips that he and Anita had taken, singing along to CDs. They had especially enjoyed the Disney songs; their favourites had been the Broadway versions of The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast. Now, though, he doubted they would ever go on a road trip together again.

Bright side, bright side! Mike commanded himself, mastering his thoughts and expression.

Nick, during one of his frequent glances at his companion, noticed the change. The wolf didn't know it, but his face could be seen clearly in the reflection from the glass. He wondered what had saddened him and what had brought him up again. He guessed Mike was trying to be happy and suppressing whatever it was that had made him sad. Nick knew that wasn't very healthy, psychologically speaking, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He also wondered why Mike was embarrassed by his singing voice. Nick had been genuinely impressed. The wolf had made up a harmony line that wasn't even in the song. The most Nick could do was medium on Rock Band.

"Hey," Mike said, bringing Nick's thoughts back to the road. He had been paying attention in a passive way, taking note of and responding to traffic without really thinking about it. "You just drove past my apartment."

"Well, we're not going to your apartment," Nick replied.

"Why not?" Mike asked inquisitively.

"Our conversation isn't done yet, and no offense to your apartment, but I'd rather not talk in a shoebox."

"None taken. And when does it end?"

"What?"

"Our conversation. When does it end?"

"When I know everything about you, and vice versa."

"Well, this will be a long conversation."

"There's a lot to tell?"

"Not really, but I'm not going to tell you everything in tonight."

"Why not?" Nick asked with a half-pretended pout.

"I don't want to scare you away," Mike said as they pulled into the driveway and got out of the car.

Nick saw the smile on the wolf's muzzle as he made his last comment, but Nick could see a sadness in Mike's eyes. The cheetah was having a hard time figuring Mike out. Nick had done well in psychology in high school and was taking some courses at the university, but they didn't give him the breadth of knowledge or experience to find out what was bothering his friend or how to cheer the wolf up.

He was still trying to think of what to do to draw Mike out of his shell when he unlocked the front door. He offered a drink, which Mike declined, and they retired to the living room.

"So," Mike said once they were seated, "what do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," Nick said, ignoring Mike's snort. "This is probably a stupid question considering how much you work, but are you taking any classes at SIAST or the university?"

"No. I used to be at the university, but I had to stop. Financial problems," he added upon seeing Nick's questioning gaze. "What about you?"

Nick felt a little more awkward. Here was another thing he had that Mike didn't. He didn't want to show up his hardworking friend, but a lie would only make things worse. "I'm taking a couple of classes at the U. Psychology."

"So, what can you say about me?" Mike asked, grinning widely. "What psychological disorders do I have?"

"Y'know," Nick said, grimacing, "this is why I don't tell people I'm taking psychology."

Mike crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and adopted a serious expression. Nick was confused until Mike said, "And how do you feel about that?"

"C'mon--"

"Are you trying to convince me, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

"Don't mock--"

"Tell me about your childhood," Mike finished with a smirk.

"If you insist."

"What? I was joking," Mike said, caught off guard.

"You don't want to know?" Nick asked with a hurt expression.

"Come off it, I know you're not offended. Well, I'm a little curious. It's one of the classic questions when you're getting to know someone, I guess."

"Don't worry, I'd be happy to tell you.

"I already told you I'm the third of seven kids. My sister is five years older than me, my brother two. After me came twins, who are seven years younger, and one more sister, who's thirteen years off from me. My oldest sister, Stephanie, has always been kind of bossy. Comes from being the oldest, I guess. She always wanted to tell us what to play and everything. She's still very rule-oriented, so heaven help you if you cheat or make up house rules. We didn't, and don't, get along too well, but we still love each other.

"Kevin, my older brother, is two years older than me. He must have gotten tired of my sister's snobbishness at a young age because he took to me basically as soon as I was born. He and I are really close. We still find time to hang out. When Stephanie was trying to organise us for a game, Kevin and I would just take off and do whatever. We both played way too many video games."

Mike could see a wistful, nostalgic expression on Nick's face and felt another flare of envy. It wasn't exactly parallel, but it was similar to how he felt about Anita. He was happy that his friend still had that connection, however.

Nick's eyes refocused on the room just in time to see something flash across Mike's face. The emotion passed too quickly for him to see what it was, but Nick could tell it wasn't a positive feeling. Mike's face had regained it's look of polite interest already, so Nick simply continued without comment.

"I was in soccer for a while, but I left after two years. Didn't hold my attention, really. I did track and field in school, though. Sprints, obviously, relay, and high jump. Don't laugh, I was pretty good. I was average in school. A lot of B's. I wasn't overly popular, but I had quite a few friends throughout school.

"I was seven when my mom had twins, Lauren and Lucas. Lauren is the older one, and she still makes sure Luke knows it. Those two are close and really nice despite being troublemakers before they were ten. They kept my hands full, although they were mostly Stephanie's and Kevin's responsibility, thank God. I didn't like my youngest sister at first. I was thirteen, so I wanted to break away from the family. You know how it is. Now, I think Chloe's adorable. She's very precocious and not half as shy as the twins were. Or me."

"You? Shy?" Mike asked incredulously. "You didn't strike me as shy my first day on the job."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, not so much anymore. Although I still kind of am. I wasn't that outgoing my first day."

" 'Outgoing,' " Mike snorted. "That's not the word."

Nick had given a rude, albeit good-natured, initiation to Smitty's on his first day. Mike had been carrying a tray full of food for customers out of the kitchen. That was the part Mike really didn't get. There was a lot of food on that tray, so dropping it wouldn't have just broken the dishes; it would have wasted time remaking the food and could have lost money if the customers stopped coming because of long waits. He had been close to the door leading out of the kitchen when Nick burst through from the other side with an unintelligible yell. Mike startled, but kept the tray steady enough to keep everything intact. Mike hadn't find it as hilarious as Nick, but his good humour had been well restored after his quick-thinking free hand found a slice of cream pie to push into the surprised cheetah's face. A manager had been watching the whole time, but the staff was well-used to Nick's antics, and he was too good a server to fire over something so trivial. The pie wasn't even docked from Mike's pay cheque because the manager found his quick response hilarious. After a moment of shock, Nick had laughed and cleaned off his face, and then went back to work. He insisted even now that he had been training Mike to keep his cool in a noisy environment.

After alternating between laughing and grimacing over the reminiscence, Nick asked, "So, what was your childhood like?" He was wary of asking that question. He didn't want to see grief in his friend's face again, but he really wanted to know, and it was the natural thing to ask after talking about his. If Mike didn't want to talk about it, though, Nick was ready to find another subject.

Mike noticed slight apprehension in Nick's expression and realized he wasn't hiding his emotions as well as he'd thought. However, he had done his best to divorce his earlier memories of his family from the more recent ones, so in this case he didn't have to hide anything.

"Well, I'm the youngest of four. Dione, the oldest, is, umm... twenty-nine... no, thirty. Shut up! I'm terrible with ages. Fred is twenty-six, and Anita is twenty-four. I never did too much with Dione. We talked and got along, but the age difference was a little too big to do much when I was a pup. My brother and I would do a lot of gaming. I was closest to Anita, and not just in age. She and I did a lot together, even when I was going through high school. She wasn't much of a gamer, though. I did that with my friends, mostly. I was a geek in school, smarts wise. A's, mostly, in elementary, and I left high school with a ninety average. I never had too many friends, except in years prior to grade two. When you're that young, you're friends with just about everybody, right?

"I had about three consistent friends in elementary school with a few others coming and going. I loved school until grade five. That's when I started to get bullied. Grades five, six, and seven were the worst. The kids a grade older than me were real jerks. Well, not all of them, but the ones that weren't didn't pay attention to me. Grade eight wasn't too bad, and the problem almost disappeared in high school, except for phys. ed. classes. I never really liked them. I was in soccer for a few years as a kid, but I gave it up for dance."

"Dance? What kind?" Nick had been content to listen up to that point, but he couldn't stop himself. He didn't know any guys that were in dance.

"Jazz dance. First year, there were three guys, including me. Second year, there were two of us, and after that I was the only one."

"How long were you in it?"

"Eight years. It was a lot of fun, but I didn't have the time to commit after that. I was proud of it, though. I take pride in being a little different. Anyway, in high school I lost almost all of my old friends, but immediately found new ones. At the end of high school, I had five good friends, including one that I'd know since grade two. Umm, what else can I say? I was a big gamer, especially for FPS's, but I played other stuff, too. I was, and still am, huge into reading. I can do an average sized book a day. And I've always loved music. I was in organ lesson at age eight and I continued until grade eleven. I also took piano for the last three of those years. I stopped because of time and money, and I just wanted to play whatever, so I did that at home. A lot. I find it a great way to unwind. I was in band from grade six to twelve on trumpet. I was also in jazz band from grades seven to twelve, also on trumpet. That was a lot of fun. I love jazz pieces. And I was quite the internet junky in high school. Anything else you want to know?"

"No, I think that's good. For now," Nick added with a grin.

Mike glanced at the clock. "Wow, eleven fifteen already?"

"Oh, how time flies," Nick said sagely. Mike rolled his eyes at the cheetah.

"I should probably head home," Mike said, making to rise.

"Why? You don't work until twelve, and I don't need to get up tomorrow morning. We're having a good chat here."

"Lonely, Nick?" Mike asked, only half-joking.

"Maybe. What do you think?"

"How should I know? You're the psychologist."

"Ha, ha, ha. A regular riot."

"Well, if you're so keen on keeping me," Mike said, "what do you want to do?"

Nick smiled. "You're a gamer, you say. I'm tired of single player. What do you say to a game?"

"Of what?"

"Come and see."

"Okay, Jesus," Mike said ironically as he followed on the cheetah's tail.

Nick snorted at the comparison and walked over to the games in the basement. "You said FPS's?"

"And others. Fighting games, Rock Band, et. al."

"Well, how about Modern Warfare 2?" Nick asked.

Mike grinned broadly. "Sure."

*

The pair ended up playing for hours, and Nick found Mike an able opponent as well as a good companion in co-op mode, if a little rusty. The cheetah frequently found himself at the receiving end of Mike's under-slung grenade launcher. When they finally called it quits, it was three in the morning. Mike declined offer for a ride home as ridiculous. He walked the few blocks to his apartment and collapsed into bed with a smile on his face. He could see the start of a great friendship and looked forward to seeing the cheetah at work the next day. Well, he thought, today now, I guess. With that happy thought to send him off, Mike fell asleep.

---

IT'S UP! Finally!

Sorry for the wait, but here it is in all it's glory. Just over sixteen pages long hand, and eleven and a half pages on OpenOffice. And there's still going to be a part 3! That was going to be the end, but then I got an idea, and I think it needs to be another part rather than a separate short story. I already have two pages written, longhand. Anyway, please comment, point out mistakes, what you liked, constructive criticism, etc. Also, suggestions for tags would be good if you can think of any that I missed.

Everything, I think, that Mike says about himself for his background is one hundred percent accurate as to my background. Nick is the first all original character in this series! He's not based off of anyone! I like him though, and am still deciding what direction to take him. I've figured out a couple things, but the rest will need to just happen as I'm writing.

Thanks to Bryan Adams for "You've Been a Friend to Me." I really do like the song, and I do sing along. Sorry if the selection is a little cheesy. Picking what song Mike should sing to was the hardest part, and I actually skipped over it and wrote on the page, and came back to it later. I hope you agree it fits even if it's not overly subtle.

Anyway, another HUGE thank you to my watchers and to everyone who has commented. Please let me know you've been here and what you think by commenting. I'm not asking for a paragraph (although it would be nice), just whether you liked and what you liked kind of thing.

Now you're bored of this crap, so if I find something else to say, I'll just comment on the story. Cheers, and hope you enjoyed!