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"What's friendship's realest measure? I'll tell you. The amount of precious time you'll squander on someone else's calamities and fuck-ups." - Richard Ford

Sarah stood in the corner of the kitchen, periodically leaning back to eye Liz who was playing Xbox with Michael. She didn't hate her as such. It was just that she could be a little brash sometimes when it comes to dealing with people that she collectively labeled as annoying. True, Sarah was partially at fault for the whole feud, but that didn't mean that she was going to apologize. After all Liz was the one who started it all and as such, she should make the first move. She recalled North's comment about killing her dog with a shovel and laughed, prompting the cat to move his gaze from the steak that cooked in the pan to the coyote. He eyed her and smiled that adorable smile of his. Sarah felt something tug on her from the inside and went red, her face composing itself into a neutral mask. She tried her best to look as if something by the door caught her attention. The sweet smell of freshly-made food flooded her nostrils and she poured herself another glass, her second this evening. Her mind drifted to the window and she looked out, into the fading day. Already the sun fell behind the city and the streetlights were about to come on.

"Watch this." North said and instantly caught Sarah's attention. She crossed her arms and smirked, waiting for everything to go terribly wrong. North deftly grabbed the end of the pan, tugged, and flipped the steak over, the hissing of raw meat against a hot surface erupting from the stovetop. He stepped away from the stove and did a little bow, Sarah doing a little joke applause to complete the moment. The boy was trying his hardest to impress her and it showed. Sarah couldn't help but feel rotten about the fact that he was trying this hard and all she did was watch him over the rim of her wineglass. Maybe she should turn her charm on. That way she'd have North wrapped around her finger in a matter of minutes. But a part of her didn't want to. The fact that she was a romantic person was well-known to her and she wanted him to make the first move, if he was interested. It was entirely possible that he played for the other team. Shit, she thought to herself and winced, if he was gay and she did try something, she'd get shot down spectacularly. Briefly she thought about consulting Michael. Once again she leaned back and looked into the living room. Liz lay on Michael's chest as he played a game, the two of them talking quietly. The possibility of asking the eagle for advice disappeared at once. He had his hands full already.

North finished the third steak. It was cooked to perfection, the meat pink in places, with the majority of it a golden brown colour. Not to mention that it smelled delicious. He still had it, and he had it good. Occasionally he shot glances at Sarah out of his covered eye, making sure that she was perfectly unaware of the fact that he could see everything she did. The way she looked at him when she thought that he wasn't looking reminded him of fifth grade. North was an introvert and a nerd, but he sure as hell wasn't stupid. A plan formulated itself in his mind. Sarah was eliminating the wine with considerable speed, but it was obvious that she knew her limits. She had just enough to get her tipsy but not enough to get her drunk. Self-control was a trait that North greatly admired. Music broke the silence as the stereo in the living room flickered to life, light Jazz drifting into the kitchen. At once he noticed how Sarah swayed in time with the music in that way that only musicians did. He noticed that her foot was tapping in rhythm and that she hit all the right notes with her paw. Maybe she knew the piece from before? He had to ask her later that evening.

***

Liz lay in Michael's lap and looked upwards towards eagle who had his eyes glued to the TV as he tried to beat North's high score in Geometry Wars. The snow leopard had no idea what the high score was but knowing their roommate, it was something ridiculous. She ran her paw over Michael's shirtfront tenderly, just softly enough not to put anything out of place. He paused the game and dropped the controller on the table, the TV turning off with a beep. His breathing calmed once again and he touched her paw, Liz responding by wrapping her fingers around his. She knew that in time the nearness they shared now would fade as the novelty wore off. But she tried not to think of it. For now she was as happy as she could be, save for that bitch in the kitchen.

"I don't understand what you two are fighting over." Michael said and lit a cigarette "If only you'd tell me what started this thing. I think I have the right to know, don't you think?"

Liz sighed and rolled her eyes, but not out of frustration. It was just that Michael knew exactly how to weedle something out of her and he never cut corners. He'd use every trick in the book and she humored him. But she genuinely wanted to let him into her life, fully and with no holds barred. Growing up, she had no one to share her thoughts with and she wanted to be as close to him as possible. Smiling, she felt that warmth within herself again and ran the back of her paw against his face, feeling an unshaven stubble against her skin.

"It all began when we first met. She's a violinist who practices a lot during the day and back then, I worked the night shift at a 7-11." Liz said and sighed "I've been so goddamn harsh on her when we first spoke but I apologized later. She wouldn't have any of it."

"Don't you think she was within her rights to do so?" Michael asked as Liz closed her eyes and ran her paw up and down his back "If someone acted like that towards me for no reason, I'd be pretty pissed-off too."

"Well, I suppose..." Liz began but Michael cut her off. "We're having a party and we're still waiting for our second guest, whoever they might be. Please don't let a stupid feud ruin this. I always wanted to be on good terms with my neighbours. Besides, we share a balcony." He said and she got up off his lap "Get drunk, do whatever you need to, but do apologize. Promise me as much, okay?"

"I will, Michael." She replied and grabbed her arm, her gaze dropping at the floor out of shame. In their relationship, he was no doubt the 'straight man', the resident reality checker. And for good reason too, she reminded herself. She was a manic depressive after all. Sometimes she needed a push in the right direction. Naturally, she would reciprocate as soon as possible. Michael deserved it. A relationship is a lot of work, Liz reminded herself, and each action has an equal and opposite reaction. They were teenagers no longer and simply being in love wasn't enough. Now they were a team, and she loved that fact. Nobody else would watch her back as well as he did. They've only been together for a few days now and already she believed that if he were to leave her, she'd just drop all of her failsafes and do something drastic. And now he was kissing her again for the nth time that day. The way he tasted always took her out of this 24/7 newscast of disasters that kept playing in her head and reminded her that he was still here, and not leaving. This is here, this is now.

***

"Where ya from, North?" Sarah asked and watched him put some pasta on out of the corner of her eye. His delicate maneuvers made the whole thing seem insanely easy. With a flick of his wrist he deposited an entire load of spaghetti into the pot and turned the heat up, all the while bobbing to the music that came from the living room. At some point, it went from delicate jazz to dance, and North wasted no time adjusting his movements accordingly.

"I'm from this little town in the middle of Illinois that you probably never heard of." He replied and did a little knife-hand, awaiting a drop. It came like a train laden with explosives, the room suddenly coming alive with a deep electric bass melody. Sarah found herself tapping along to the quaint little tune. "Try me." she interjected, North practically breaking it down in front of the fridge as he picked out another bottle of wine, this one white. He handed her the bottle. "Crack her open for me, will ya? LCD Soundsystem is on an that means that the party is on." Sarah did as she was told, watching the cat's moonwalk imitation with a smirk.

"The town in question is called Joliet." He said and sidestepped to the stove, turning the dials with a bounce in his step "Everyone knew everyone. Michael lived across the street from me and we became tight friends in no time. Eventually we left for college and my mother moved away. Now I just see it in a bunch of old photos I have lying around."

Sarah turned towards the window and stared out of it. North's story was riddled with juxtapositions. It was bittersweet in a strange way. Slowly she turned towards him and found him once again fully immersed in his work, his single lonely eye flying over the pots and pans as he tried so damn hard to make everything perfect. But there was sadness in that eye of his, sadness that touched her in a strange way, making her feel almost sorry that the only stories she could share were ones of a wholesome family and always being in one place. The cat seemed out of place even now, in the company of people he loosely considered friends, with the exception of Michael.

"I can see that question in your mouth all the way from here." He said out of the blue, prompting Sarah to turn around and look him straight in the eye "My father was a son of a bitch if my mother is to be trusted. He died when I was two years old and she was quite happy that he did. I found that to be very strange but I never worried. Maybe she never forgave him that he just laid down and died. Who can tell anymore?"

North's last sentence almost brought tears to her eyes. He was right in every way. Who could even tell anymore these days? Sometimes she sat up all night with the news playing on her laptop, wondering if she was the only one waiting for everything to go to hell. And now she met him, someone for whom everything went to hell a long time ago. It didn't matter. He enjoyed the now, the here, bouncing around on his heels to a tune by the name of "Drunk Girls". If she opened the dictionary and looked up 'bittersweet', she'd find a description of this very moment. As tenderly as she could, she put her paw on his and looked into that eye of his, blue and bloodshot. He cracked the widest smile she had ever seen, a smile that told her that he smiled because he had to.

Together they watched cars drift past the windows like giant fish lost in some fantastic fishbowl, one of his paws still busy with adjusting the pans, the dials, the steaks, and so on while the other remained firmly on hers, not letting go. Everything's happening to quickly nowadays, Sarah found herself thinking, but this is just what I wanted. I wanted someone with a story and I found him. But still the silent reminder that she shouldn't get ahead of herself pounded on the back of her consciousness. He pulled his paw away from underneath hers and made for the refrigerator when the sound of a doorbell cut the minute they shared in half.

With a sigh that reeked of annoyance, Sarah opened the door and came face to face with a cervine creature in a leather jacket and a worn band shirt, a wide smile plastered on its face. His face, she noticed a moment later when her alcohol-drowned brain connected the dots. He gleefully shook her hand and greeted her, looking behind her to see if there was anyone else. Hampton spotted the cat he had seen somewhere before hammering away at the stove in time to the beat of the music. Michael appeared a few seconds later with Liz in tow. The latter smiled widely when she laid her eyes upon him and practically pushed her way past Sarah, allowing Hampton safe passage into the living room. As they exchanged pleasantries and greetings, some confused, others friendly in nature, Sarah shrugged and followed them.

"It's great to see you again, Dr. Hampton." Liz said earnestly and stepped aside to let him and Michael shake hands "This is Michael, as I'm sure you're well aware."

"I am but I'm fairly certain that he doesn't remember me." Michael looked between his girlfriend and the guest in confusion, unaware of what he should think "And please, call me Adam. 'Dr. Hampton' just makes me feel old."

"Who are you again?" Michael asked, a perturbed look on his face as he tried his best to recall whether or not he knew the man from somewhere, his memory of the entire week reduced to a bunch of black holes. "I was the one supervising your treatment when you came in for that concussion a couple of days ago." Adam replied and looked around himself "No wonder you don't remember. You were in bad shape. Speaking of, how are you doing?"

"I hope this isn't a housecall, Adam." Michael said and sat down on the sofa, crossing one of his legs over the other "I'm fine, as you can see. No headaches anymore, and I can cope with the light."

"That's good and no, this isn't a housecall." Adam replied and sat opposite of Michael, carefully eyeing the coyote that was watching them from the kitchen "Liz invited me over for dinner and since I've got tonight and tomorrow morning off, I figured I might as well come."

Sarah sauntered into the living room, flanked by North whose apron bore the scars of a night rich with cooking. They took turns introducing themselves, the deer smiling kindly at each of them. After a few minutes of small talk North broke the silence by announcing that dinner was ready.