"Well, I'd better get going," Tommy said after the kitchen was clean.

"Yeah, I've kinda wasted most of your day. Sorry," Jude said, walking him to the door.

"No apology necessary," Tommy assured her, as they both stepped outside onto the front stoop.

It was a beautiful, cool fall night. All was quiet except for crickets chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze.

"Well, thanks for staying with me…and cooking…that was nice of you. I'm really glad you were here," Jude smiled up at him from under her lashes.

"You know you can call me anytime you're in trouble. I mean it. For anything," Tommy looked down at her. "Even when you're drunk…which I know you won't do ever again, because you pinkly promised," he said, cracking a smile.

"Yeah, well, that goes both ways," Jude smiled back, playfully bumping her shoulder against his. "I'm lucky you stopped by today."

"Yep," Tommy sighed, cockily, "You don't know how good you've got it," he said with a cheeky smile. "Back in my day, if my producer or band mates found me passed out, they'd take a Sharpie to my face or shave my eyebrows," he shuddered.

Jude let out a throaty laugh. "Seriously?"

"Unfortunately," Tommy snickered. "So, we've got the studio booked for 10 tomorrow morning."

"I'll be there. Scouts honor," Jude halfheartedly saluted him.

"I'll have breakfast waiting."

"And vanilla lattes?" Jude perked up.

"Hey, it wouldn't be a Sunday at the studio without vanilla lattes," Tommy smiled. "Besides, I'm not letting you eat any more cereal tomorrow, Harrison. That's literally the only thing in your cupboards," he laughed.

"I can't cook!" Jude laughed. "There's nothing wrong with cereal!"

"Ah, yeah, there is!"

"Well, maybe you should just cook for me more often, then."

"Maybe I should teach you how to cook."

"You might be in over your head with that one."

"Yeah, well, that's what I thought when I first found out I'd be producing you," Tommy said, as their laughter faded. "But look how well that turned out."

Standing in the shadows, they gave each other one last longing look. If looks could talk, this one would say, "I love you".

"Goodnight," Jude breathed, her voice hitching, only coming out as a soft whisper.

"Night, Jude," Tommy whispered, reaching out and touching her, his fingertips softly brushing, then lingering, on her forearm, before turning away.