When Dom gets his ankle out of the cast, he almost throws a fit at the atrophied muscle and the pale, sickly looking skin. Like it's not bad enough that the bloody thing itched to hell for the past month, but to look like some alien appendage when he finally gets the cast off!

Billy lures him home with promises of domestic comfort and Dom, always a sucker for being babied, goes with no further complaint. They lounge on the living room floor and Billy puts Dom's leg on a pillow and whips out some vanilla-scented lotion.

"Sit still," Billy says, and goes above working the hand-warmed creamy stuff into Dom's foot and ankle. Minutes later Dom is putty, eyes softly fixed on Billy. When Billy looks up and gives him a questioning look Dom smiles.

"Thanks, Bill."