The four housemates were doing well, or, as well as the four of them ever did. Their daily activities were not interrupted by their new scars and fear of busses.

"Morning Michael!"

"Alright there Vyv."

"Neil! Where's my breakfast!?"

"Calm down Vyv, never mind that I've been up all night cooking and having a really bad time, it's just that –"

"That's enough Neil! No one cares!"

Rick went back to his note pad, scribbling poetry. Vyvyn sat down heavily beside him, snatching the pad from under his pen.

"Isn't this nice! He's writing a little girlie poem about me! Ha!" Vyvyn snorted, using one hand to hold the note pad up high, the other to restrain the struggling Rick.

As Vyvyn read, his expression softened that tiniest bit, before shoving the pad back into it's owners arms.

"Thanks for that, you Mary. Very touching." Vyvyn mumbled between inhaling cornflakes.

"Well you weren't supposed to wread it yet, because it wasn't finished and it was a pwresent for our…. Errrm…"


"Yes yes, that!" Rick flapped his arms, trying to hide his blush. He still didn't like using the lingo associated with being a couple in front of the others incase it somehow detracted from his dominant stand point as leader of the house. He often wished he was like Vyvyn, in that he didn't give a rat's bum about how other people felt about….. well, anything.

"I have a present for you too Rick! But it's in the bedroom, so come on!" Vyvyn grabbed Rick violently by the collar and dragged him unceremoniously from the room.

"Vyvyn! Ixnay on the Ousemateshay!" Rick screeched.

"You're alright Rick, it's healthy." Mike said, undistracted from his morning paper.