**
Who's gonna tell you when
It's too late
Who's gonna tell you things
Aren't so great
You can't go on
Thinking nothing's wrong
Who's gonna drive you home tonight
Who's gonna pick you up
When you fall
Who's gonna hang it up
When you call
Who's gonna pay attention
To your dreams
Who's gonna plug their ears
When you scream
You can't go on
Thinking nothing's wrong
Who's gonna drive you home tonight
Who's gonna hold you down
When you shake
Who's gonna come around
When you break
You can't go on
Thinking nothing's wrong
Who's gonna drive you home tonight
(Cars from Heartbeat City: "Drive")
P.S. Much thanks to Britt for getting the song for me. =)
**


**He collapsed onto his arms, crying silent tears, spilling his anguish the only way he knew how.

What do I do now?**



The clock chiming startled Lucky, and he nearly fell from his chair. He straightened and raised his arms above his head in a stretch. He rubbed at his face with both hands. He ached all over.

Sounds of movement from the direction of the living room prompted him to rise and go to the sink. Lucky splashed his face with cool water and roughly dried it with a towel. He was turning from the counter when Liz's call came.

"Lucky?"

"Yeah?" He went to the doorway, but ventured no farther.

"Could you bring me some juice?"

Lucky turned back to the kitchen. He filled her glass with juice and walked into the living room, carefully controlling his hold on the glass. He handed it off to Liz, taking care not to touch her.

"Thank you," Liz said, not quite meeting his eyes. "I would have gotten it, I mean, I don't want to bother you, but-"

"It's okay," Lucky interrupted her. He smiled, his eyes bright. "I understand about your foot and all. I'll just try to...to stay out of your way," he seemed to choke, then went on. "Unless you need something. Uh, just ask, and I'll do what I can."

Liz swallowed. "I...I appreciate it. All of it."

Lucky nodded and motioned behind him to the kitchen. "I didn't get finished..." He let his words hang in the air for a long moment. When Liz didn't say anything more, he backed away, never taking his eyes from her.

**

The clatter of dishes from the kitchen had stopped a good half hour ago. Lucky had made a brief appearance in the doorway to tell Liz he was grabbing a shower, looking almost afraid to be in the same vicinity as she was.

She sighed and slouched into a more comfortable position on the couch. Her foot was propped on a pillow on the coffee table in front of her. She held a TV control in her limp grasp. The TV was on mute. It held no interest for her, without someone to watch it with.

Liz groaned and rolled her head to the side, catching sight of a thick hardback on an end table only feet away. She reached out and tugged it into her grasp, forgetting the TV control completely. It slid between the cushions of the couch. Liz perused the front and back covers of the book. It was some murder/mystery that a previous tenant must have left.

"Let's see if you're worth your salt, and can distract me..." Liz said to herself, cracking the covers.

**

The shower had cooled his nerves and given him a little time to think. Only now Lucky was more confused than ever. He ran a hand through his still-wet hair and tossed his sopping towel across the room, using more force than necessary. It landed on the bed.

Lucky walked to the door, hesitating before opening it. He propped himself up against the door, facing away from it, and dropped his head against its wooden surface with a thud.

"I don't get it," he said aloud. "I just don't get it."

He was silent for only seconds. "But maybe it's not up to me to get it. I just have to live with it."

He opened the door and prepared himself by taking a deep breath.

"Live with it," he said under his breath, taking his first step toward the other rooms. And Liz.

**

Liz slammed the book shut. "I just can't concentrate!"

A quiet cough from the other side of the room alerted her to Lucky's presence. She whipped her neck around, a reflex she still hadn't grown out of.

Lucky was standing by the wall, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Is there anything...I can get you?"

Liz smiled, barely faltering.

"I don't suppose you'd have something to occupy my mind. I'm not having the best time 'staying off of it.'"

Lucky's lips turned upwards.

"I bet you're a ton of fun when you're sick. Having to stay in bed and rest."

"You know me," Liz shot back. "I have the attention span of a kindergartner."

"Yeah," Lucky said slowly. "I know you."

Liz's smile faded. "I didn't mean-"

"You know what?" Lucky inserted brightly. "I have an idea."

"That's mildly scary, in itself."

Lucky raised his brows incredulously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything..." Liz sighed, running a hand through her hair.

Lucky half-glared at her. "I thought we were doing the teasing thing."

"Right."

Liz's halfhearted word increased the tension in the room. Lucky fidgetted, briefly glancing at Liz, then looking away again.

"Uh, your idea...?"

Lucky looked up, hope flaring for one moment in his eyes.

"This'll keep you busy."

**

"I don't believe this."

"What? It was *your* bright idea, Einstein."

"Yeah, but-"

"But, what? Now you want to quit? I don't *think* so."

"But-"

"Stop with the buts already, you're not getting out of this."

"Elizabeth..."

"Lucky."

"Will you just let me-"

"Uh uh. You wanted to play this way, now you face the consequences."

"But-"

"That'll be 2000 dollars."

Lucky rolled his eyes. He glared at the coffee table before him. On it was a Monopoly board. On the Monopoly board was an entire row of red hotels. All of which were owned by Liz.

Lucky glared again at his game piece, the racecar. It was sitting right next to a hotel on the Boardwalk square. He looked up at Liz beseechingly.

"Come on, babe, can't you let it pass this one time?"

"That's what you said the last five times you've landed there. I don't think this is your game, Lucky. Or Un-Lucky, depending..."

Lucky swatted at her, laughing aloud. He instantly stopped horsing around when Liz pulled back. She was sitting on the couch, her foot propped on the floor now. Lucky was next to her, half on the floor, half on the couch. She settled more toward her corner of the couch.

"Ah, sorry," Lucky murmured, scooting away.

Liz shrugged indifferently. "Don't worry about it," she said coolly. Her tense shoulders betrayed her discomfort.

Lucky slid to the floor.

---

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