[ In about two weeks' time, Naomi Sokolov will walk down to the mess up to where Raleigh Becket and Tendo Choi are debating over who gets to eat the last bagel and ask the kid if he'd be okay to babysit little Yancy Sokolov on a Thursday night because she has a date.

( But let's not get ahead of ourselves. )

It's really early in the morning on a Saturday and Tendo's watching Alison tuck Naomi into their couch, the remains of what was supposed to be a girls' night in drinking a huge factor in what Tendo is pretty much sure is the last time he ever wants to see one of his good friends cry like that.

He's waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest as his wife clears up the coffee table a little, a half-drunk bottle of tequila in one hand, an ash tray in the other. ] If he wasn't my best friend with a whole world of hurt on his shoulders from stupid, fucking Knifehead, I'd actually suggest that you use him for target practice for those new upgrades.

[ He exhales a heavy sigh. ]