Nick's POV ------- Lace's house

The Lieutenant door slammed and I heard Lace make his way into the kitchen. I had taken it upon myself to make food because I was hungry. His footsteps came closer. I cleared off some of the kitchen getting out trash bags and everything. "Hey," He said walking in behind me.

"Hi," I looked over my shoulder. If you've never been to Lace's house, it's hard to get used to once you're they're. It's all fucked up and in your face. The dining room leads to a hallway room and then another dining room. He walked over to the stove and looked at the bacon I had made.

"I didn't know we had bacon." He said. Looking over at me. He stuck his finger into the pancake batter I had made. Lace is one of those breakfast people. He made me appreciate it and all but I haven't eaten anything since the brownies I had last night. "Thanks, honey for making me breakfast... I'm sorry I didn't make love to you last night..." He was kidding. He stuck his finger into his mouth.

I laughed out loud. "It's okay," I said. "I am fucking starving."

Lace can also cook like a bastard. He barbeques and shit and everything. I can only make pancakes. I walked over flipping them over. "So," I said in a more serious way. "You know Perry was just being an asshole last night, right? You didn't have to sleep with-"

"I didn't," He said. I looked at him over my shoulder. He leaned against the counter. He didn't look dissheveled or anything like that. "He was being an asshole though."

"So you an Emily..." I said. "What's up with that?" I felt relief wash over me. Lace takes stuff too personally for his own good. I didn't think he'd just go have sex with some girl he barely knew because he's not like that.

He smiled a little. "She's cool," He said.

"Cool, huh?" I said flipping pancakes again. "As in: she's-a-guy-trapped-in-a-girl's-body cool, or cool." The pancakes were smokign because of the choclate chips but they had dark brown and golden swirls like hurricanes on them. I emptied them onto a nice plate. I had washed down most of the counters already we just had every other room.

"You don't like her, right?" He asked.

I gave him a look. Obviously I didn't like Emily. She had Lace written all over her. Everything she said was like Lace. She was his soul-mate if I ever saw one. He shrugged exhaling scratching his shoulder. He was in love with her. I sighed. "Do you think she's attractive?"

"Yes," He mumbled.

"Was she nice to talk to?"

"Yes,"

"When you kissed her did you feel the Boston pops swirling around in the brain that is now turned into mush and did you see a green light and think: here is my Daisy- I am her Gatsby never her Holden and she's always my Jane?"

"No," He said.

I looked at him. "So she's not what-"

"No," He said. "I didn't kiss her."

"Oh," I said. Then I looked back at my nice little pancakes freshly placed on the pan. I nodded and played with the edges of the circles. The choclate chips were sticking up like rocks in mud. "Just so you know, if you spend over three hours talking to a girl that's probably going to happen."

He laughed quietly. "Thanks," He said. "I've had girlfriends before."

"Yeah, ditzes who blew you and texted you," I said looking at him. "You never had an Emily before."

He gave me a look. "You say this like she's going to change my life," He said. "How do you know I'm even going to see her again?"

"Does she have your cell phone number?" I asked. Oh how little our little knight knew of such a plot. He nodded. "Then you're going to see her in no time. Just keep texting her." I flipped over some more pancakes.

"Dude, I just met her," He said. "Don't make this a big deal."

I looked at him. "Did you see her?" I asked raising my eyebrows. "She's gorgeous. She's funny. She's talkative. She's outgoing. She's smart- I think. She's not ripping her clothes off. She's a keeper."

He gave me a look again. He pushed off of the counter and picked up a piece of bacon popping it into his mouth. "Whatever," He sighed. "Keep telling yourself that."

I hit him with the spatula. "You're so cynical," I said. "Text her."

"No," He said walking away. "Not yet."

Lace is old-fashioned, I guess. He waits for the third date to kiss a girl. He doesn't do anything more until he sees himself with them in three years. When he stops seeing himself with them he starts pulling away. That's when they break up and returns to his life as Sir Lancelot- the cynic. I'm not a romatic but you know, sometimes you have to go out on a limb and assume the girl you meet at a party whose pretty, nice, and made for you is your soul mate.

I have to do that for Lace. And that's okay. That's what I'm here for.