It was barely 6 A.M. when Punk stepped into the kitchen. Stretching his arms over his head, he made his way to the refrigerator. Man, there was nothing like sleeping in his own bed. Not that he slept much. Incessant insomnia made it impossible to get more than a few hours of shut eye a night. After four hours in the king size bed, he felt like a new man. Grabbing a pre-mixed protein shake he closed the fridge. He glanced out of the sliding glass door. Dawn was just breaking over the tree line. Streaks of pink painted the sky off to the east. Leaning a hip against the counter, he listened to the quiet. After all of the noise and chaos of life on the road, it was difficult to adjust to the solitude of home life. While they were two extremes of the same spectrum, he wouldn't trade it for anything. Home was where the heart is. Or some bullshit like that. Home was where he wasn't beset by prying eyes and constant fan invasion. This was the only place in the world he didn't have to deal with the never ending flash of cameras. For the next two days he would live as normal a life as possible. It was just enough to recharge his batteries before another whirlwind jaunt across the country.

"You're up early." Izzy's husky voice pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced at the doorway to the kitchen and couldn't help but smile. Izzy leaned against the door jamb, rubbing her eyes. She let out a rather loud yawn. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her cheek still bore a mark from the pillow. The wrinkled T-shirt and sleep shorts she wore told him she hadn't expected to find him awake.

"I can say the same for you. What are you doing up?" Punk asked as he watched Izzy shuffle across the shiny hardwood floor.

She glanced at him over her shoulder and she reached into the cabinet above the coffee maker. The heavy sigh she gave said she didn't find what she was looking for. She let the cabinet door slam shut.

She gave the coffee pot a lingering glance as she turned toward him.

"I need to hit the grocery store. I thought I'd be back before you got up." Izzy rubbed at her eyes again as if trying to clear her vision.

Punk made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat. Typically Izzy was on top of things. Every time he came home, the kitchen was stocked with his favorite foods. Izzy hated the thought of him coming back to empty cabinets. It wasn't like he couldn't take care of himself but it was nice to know Izzy took care all things domestic. Life was easier when Izzy had his back.

"I'll be back for lunch." Punk said as he stepped away from the counter. Izzy nodded as she looked up at him. As much as he'd rather stay home and be lazy, he couldn't. He still had a routine to keep and the first thing on his list was a long run. Nothing like fresh air and concrete to clear his mind. With a half smile he put his headphones on and turned toward the door.

A wry smile touched Izzy's lips as she made crossed the house to her bedroom. As she changed into her favorite jeans and a T-shirt she made mentally made a shopping list. She swept a brush through her hair and twisted it into a ponytail. She grabbed her keys and cell phone before heading to the door. The walk to the market took less than fifteen minutes. After grabbing a cart she meandered down the aisles. She selected a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables before heading toward the dairy case. A dozen eggs and half gallon of skim milk were added to the cart before going to the fresh seafood. Ten minutes later Izzy left the store.

It was just before 11 o'clock when Izzy finished the chopping the tomatoes and added them to the green salad. She tossed in a healthy portion of garlic croutons before deciding lunch was ready. She placed the bowl on the table and placed a bottle of balsamic vinaigrette dressing beside it. She poured two glasses of ice water. Everything was ready. All she needed was Punk. Glancing at the metal clock on the far wall she figured she was a few minutes early. Leaning against the island she glanced into the living room. Everything was as neat as possible. After returning from the market she'd made sure everything was in place. While Punk wouldn't complain if something was left out; it mattered to her. It was important that the house stay clean and presentable. It was the least she could do for him.

With a smile she thought about the last two years. Punk's offer to let her live with him had caught her by surprise. Recently unemployed with a rapidly dwindling bank account, the offer had been more than she'd hoped for. At first she had refused. She couldn't bear the thought of allowing him to go through with it. Living together was a big change in their relationship. Not that there was anything intimate about the offer but being in Punk's personal space 24/7 was almost too much. She had repeatedly refused until Punk's badgering had worn her down. After weeks of non stop pestering she'd packed up her few belongings and moved out of her efficiency apartment. She had expected things to be awkward but it wasn't. While Punk wouldn't take money for bills, he couldn't stop her from taking domestic charge. She made sure that his infrequent trips home were comfortable and stress free. She cooked three meals and day and kept the kitchen spotless. She washed his laundry and repacked his bags. It was the least she could do to repay his kindness.

The sound of the front door slamming brought Izzy out of her thoughts. She looked up as Punk stepped into the kitchen. He looked tired but oddly relaxed. The lines of strain that usually bracketed his mouth were mysteriously absent. His green eyes sparkled with mischief. He tossed a stack of mail on the counter and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. He closed the fridge and leaned against it. A dark brow shot up as he looked at the precisely set table.

"You expecting company?" Punk asked before taking a long pull off the bottle. The table was neatly set with cloth napkins and the good drinking glasses. From his vantage point he could see at least two forks sitting beside square white plates.

Izzy rolled her eyes as she neatly stacked the envelopes he'd tossed onto the granite.

"No. It's just the two of us." She flicked a glance at him. He was hot. His skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. As she watched he wiped his face on the sleeve on his gray hoodie. He shook his head in disbelief. Leave it to Izzy to set out a full place setting for two people. Regardless of the fact she'd been in Chicago over half her life now, her genteel southern manners were never far away. Pushing away from the fridge he tossed his empty bottle into the trash.

"I'll be ready in ten." Punk sauntered out of the kitchen and through the living room. It was impossible to cover the sigh that escaped as she watched him leave. Her heart gave a little flip as he disappeared down the hall. No matter how often she told herself not to stare, she couldn't stop looking. It was impossible not to admire him. Punk was a prime example of masculinity. As much as she denied it, having Punk home was a double edged sword. While she loved spending time with him, it was hard to keep him at a distance. Having him home brought on a rush of emotions she was incapable of dealing with. No, it was infinitely better if she kept those feelings where they belonged; hidden away from the light of day.

Pushing those thoughts aside Izzy sat in her usual seat at the table. She toyed with her napkin while she waited. A flutter of nervousness unexpectedly moved through her. Get it together Izzy scolded herself. There was no reason for her to be anything other than completely relaxed. She and Punk had eaten countless meals together. There was no reason for this one to be any different. They would have a nice lunch then go their separate ways. Just like always.