Packed and Ready.

"We'll need to clear out your fridge," called your aunt from the kitchen as you came out of your bedroom with your last bit of luggage.

"Oh right," you said, slinging the duffel bag over your shoulder. She was already pulling out the perishables and lining them up on your kitchen counter or outright throwing some of them into the garbage. "Should we take the milk?" you asked her coyly, holding the fridge door open.

"You're so funny, J. You should've quit medical school and gone into stand-up," said Aunt Leslie with a plainly unimpressed tone. "Har har har." She still smiled though, so at least her spirits were relatively high. They seemed to lighten considerably when she spotted something else in the fridge. "Ah, beer! I need a beer," she announced, grabbing a bottle for herself then scraping through your drawer for an opener.

"It's like 11 in the morning," you noted, mildly incredulous.

"On a Saturday. Where's your opener? You want one?" She offered the beer to you as she continued searching for a bottle opener.

"It's a twist top," you said, taking the bottle and unscrewing the cap with a hiss. "And no. I'm driving." You handed it back to her. She nodded and licked her lips before bringing the bottle to her mouth. When you watched her drinking it was like watching a beer commercial where a beautiful model bathed in golden sunshine was pouring sweet ambrosia from the gods into her mouth. The way she had her eyes closed and lips pursed, head tilted, neck extended, the sparkling moisture that kissed her lips where she met the bottle... fucking hell.

You shook your head to try and stop the image from taking up a permanent residence in your head and turned to the fridge. "We should probably eat some of this stuff," you suggested, scanning through the junk you had in there.

"Ooo olives!" said your aunt, who was leaning over your shoulder now and already half a beer deep. You grabbed the jar and looked at it skeptically.

"You can't just eat a jar of olives," you said, feeling like some weird parent trying to make proper nutritional choices for your aunt. As if clairvoyant she quickly opened the freezer compartment and pulled out a flat square box.

"Frozen pizza! I think we've found the winning combination."

So you spent the next twenty minutes trying to get your shitty oven to work while your aunt finished cleaning out your fridge. It was admittedly kind of fun to just hang out with your aunt in your apartment like this while you just shot the shit with a beer (or Coke in your case) and undercooked yet also somehow burnt pizza. Your aunt spent considerable time pushing olives into her slices before devouring them with a unsightly hunger.

"How do _you _get girls?" you said, putting on a face as you watched your aunt wipe the grease from her chin with an arm. She still looked incredibly attractive like this, but you couldn't help busting her chops for how gross she acted sometimes.

"Girls like it when I get messy with them," she grinned, teeth full of pizza chunks. Okay that was gross, but it made you laugh anyway and your aunt always did like to gross you out growing up.

Things got a little less immature as you both cleaned up the rest of the kitchen once the pizza and beer were done. Luckily she decided to only have the one bottle, and the remaining three beers from the six pack she left in the fridge. You tied up the garbage bag and put it to one side.

"Ready to go?" you asked your aunt as she finished washing off in the sink.

"Um sort of," she said, stepping out of the way for you to wash your hands under the still running water. You grabbed the last bit of paper towel from the roll on your kitchen counter and dried off.

"Sort of?"

"I'm..." your aunt went quiet and swallowed nervously. You sensed a bit of dread in her voice. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking again. "I think I better take another load."

You tried not to bug your eyes out too much at her statement and adjusted your belt self-consciously.

"You mean right now?" you wondered, body already getting ready. Your aunt was surveying the floor and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Yeah I'm... I'm starting to feel a bit off. Like before those other times," she said. "I should probably take another load now. I don't want to be freaking out while we're out on the highway or something." That was true. While your aunt did seem okay now her condition was far from stable. She looked up at you finally, apprehensive but determined. Then she realised what she was asking of you and she seemed embarrassed on your behalf. "Do you think you can? Sorry, I know it was just a few hours ago..."