Disclaimer: The characters of Simon and Simon do not belong to me. This solely is for entertainment purposes.

Feedback: Comments welcome at jenifer0223@yahoo.com

Author's Notes: This is NOT the Liz mentioned in the original series and even referred to in this episode. I prefer to believe that Liz never existed. But you're welcome think of this Liz as another Liz, just not the same one. Por favor . Original fiction woven into the Simon & Simon series episode "Who Killed the Sixties?"

A.J. was in his kitchen sipping on carrot juice and leaning up against the counter daydreaming. The last three months with Liz had been terrific. They had dated regularly and exclusively. Funny, he thought, if they had been in high school he would have labeled her his "steady."

Liz was incredible. She was beautiful and he liked her openness, her intelligence, her creativity, and her patience. And, yeah, she got to him too. There had been many nights when their passion would carry them to his bed where they would revel in the divine richness of one another.

A.J. could see how this relationship had the potential to bloom at the appropriate pace into something that could really last and flourish. They were comfortable together and they seemed to blend well; their tastes, their ideas, and their priorities. They laughed often and played a lot but they were an efficient tag-team in the kitchen or whenever they wanted to achieve something. They were complimentary as well as compatible.

She and Rick even seemed to get along with each other despite his having given her the nickname "Lizard" which seemed more upsetting to A.J. than to Liz. Rick and Liz related like they had been related for, well, as long as the two brothers had. They teased each other and seemed very natural. Different, thought A.J., they weren't competitive in the least.

A.J.'s contemplation was cut short when Rick wandered in the open kitchen doorway and addressed his brother casually, "What are you up to?"

"I'm about to listen to this tape." A.J. reached over, grabbed a cassette off of the upper counter and flashed it at Rick.

"What's the tape?"

"Khachaturian"

"Catch a what-ian?"

"Khachaturian, the composer. He's one of Liz's favorites. The symphony is featuring his work and I've got tickets for Friday night's performance. She made this tape for me and I want to listen to it again to get familiar with the music before the concert." A.J. could tell that Rick was going to question that wisdom.

"The symphony's going to play it but you want to listen to it first."

A.J. knew Rick wouldn't want to hear the music once let alone subject himself to it another time.

"Yeah, Liz and I agree that orchestral music is more enjoyable when you can recognize and anticipate the themes." It was a true statement and A.J. hoped to torture his brother by saying it.

"Okay," Rick relented, "if you and Lizard agree. Have at it." Rick grabbed a beer and walked back out the same open doorway he had come in.

"Rick..." A.J. was going to chastise him for the reptile reference but his brother was already out the door - not that it would have done any good.

Since his trip to the office this morning had proven fruitless, A.J. had earmarked this time to relax and listen to the tape again. He leaned back on the couch and placed the headphones over his ears. He had to admit he found Khachaturian's Gayaneh Orchestral Suite easily embracable. He was starting to recognize the skipping feeling of the first section, and the ethereal quality of the second's Awakening that moved into the Dream that seemed a haunting dance. He was well into the lullaby that starts with an oboe melody when he started to drift close to sleep.

Insert the following scene after A.J. and Anita have dinner on his deck.

A.J.'s mother, Cecilia, had invited Liz to be a substitute in her golf foursome from the time they were first acquainted. Anytime they were a player short and Liz could make it she did. She enjoyed the camaraderie of this group of mature women. And Liz enjoyed Cecilia's company and appreciated her friendship. Cecilia had always made her feel they would have that whether or not Liz and A.J. were together.

Liz had played 18 holes with the ladies today. And, as was their tradition, they had convened post-round in the clubhouse for snacks, beverages and lively conversation that was certainly not limited to rehashing the concluded round. Men, clothes, politics, finance, music, sports; very few topics were off limits.

Inevitably, Edie Krelman directed her usual question at Liz, "So, sweetie, how is our A.J.?" It was amazing to Liz that Edie never failed to ask this question and refer to Cecilia's second son as "Our A.J.". Liz wasn't sure what her golf buddy hoped she would include in her response, possibly something juicy and graphic. As usual, her answer was neither.

"I haven't seen him for a few days. He said that there's an old high school friend in town visiting and he seems occupied with that," Liz shared matter-of-factly.

Cecilia raised her eyebrow. "Did he mention it's an old high school girl-friend?"

Liz believed Cecilia was being truthful. She wouldn't say something just to stir things up or confuse things.

Liz sipped on her iced tea, tempering her reaction. A.J. had left that little gender detail out of his conversation with her. "Maybe he didn't think it was relevant," she said evenly.

"I'd say Anita is, at least, relevant. She and A.J. dated very seriously in high school. He even used her name in the same sentence as the 'M' word," Cecilia finished cryptically.

"Macadamia nut?" offered Barbara Strauss, the group's fourth, who hadn't been following the conversation that closely. The three chuckled at her coincidental interjection as they politely declined the nuts. Timing is everything, thought Liz.

Returning to what had been said, there was no doubt that the big "M" to which Cecilia was eluding was marriage.

"That was a long time ago," Liz countered, trying not to take any of this too seriously.

"But she's here now," Edie contributed with a singsong delivery.

Liz sipped more iced tea. Were these ladies trying to push her to take some sort of action? Liz thought very little of women who demanded men's attention and played games to get them to do things. All she could do - all she wanted to do was be good to A.J. and treat this amazing man with trust, respect, compassion and affection. Then if he wanted to be with her he would be.

Cecilia added, "He made dinner for her at his house last night."

A.J. hadn't told Liz that either. But then he didn't have to tell her anything. They had not made a specific commitment to each other. And they were both adults.

Liz tried to be nonchalant. "We've only been dating for three months. I don't own him," she tossed out as lightly as she could.

Cecilia sipped her coffee. "You could be right. There may be nothing to any of this. I just wish A.J. had told you the whole story." To Liz, Cecilia sounded like she wanted to finish her statement with 'I thought I taught him better than that'.

"Don't worry, dear." Edie patted Liz's knee. "Our A.J. has good taste. And you're just perfect for him."

Liz hoped so. For as much as she felt she had no right to demand A.J.'s time and attention she did know that was what she wanted. Should she allow herself to fully admit it, Liz was completely and madly in love with this kind, charming, intelligent, handsome, blonde man with the incredible blue eyes.

The smoke was finally clearing from the explosion of the gas pumps at Carl's station. The police had quizzed the two brothers and picked their brains clean of the details of this fiasco. A.J. had put Anita in a cab and sent her home to her parents' house, he needed distance from the situation. He was assessing his feelings and found he felt empty and tired from being jerked around. He wanted comfort and he had only one thought - Liz.

It was half past noon when A.J. knocked on the door of Liz's apartment. He had never just shown up without calling before. Should she be home this would set a precedent. It came to him that he hadn't called her in days either. Maybe he should start with an apology.

Liz opened the door dressed in workout clothes and no makeup. Still attractive, he thought.

"Hi," she seemed embarrassed by her current state of dress and a little unsure of what to say. "Come in." They moved into her foyer.

"Hi." He found himself a little uncomfortable too. style='color:black'>"I was wondering if you would go to lunch with me today."

"I'd like that." She smiled. "Let me get cleaned up." She turned to exit into her bedroom and he realized he had not apologized yet.

"But first..." he pulled her to him and hugged her tightly. To his delight she hugged back. "Thank you," he said still in their embrace. His apology had changed forms.

"For what?" She had a very soft way of asking certain questions.

"For not being possessive or demanding in these last few days. For being understanding and for not making my life more complicated." Those were just he first few reasons on a remarkably long list of reasons that came to mind.

"You're welcome," she said, gently moving her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. "But you don't need me making a scene. And you don't have to hide anything from me to have it that way."

He nodded his head next to hers. He understood what she was saying. Liz felt so good to him at that moment. He kissed her soft cheek and continued to hold her close.

Liz whispered in his ear, "Listen, lover, if you don't let go of me we're going to starve." style='color:black'>She called him "lover" sparingly so it always felt special. He liked the closeness it implied and the promise it held.

Then the rest of what Liz said registered. A.J. hadn't realized how tightly he had been holding on to her. He loosened his arms and, with a quick kiss, she slipped away to get ready.

Liz swiftly changed into her red linen sleeveless dress with the matching unstructured jacket, scrunched her short curly hair to life, applied her usual favorite make-up and stepped into her bronze sandals.

Even though she had been busy in the studio she had really missed A.J. and was glad that he was here now. But he obviously had something he needed to talk about. He had shown his desperation by holding her that tightly for that long. They were very good at sharing and listening to each other. Liz hoped that would be the case today and that it would provide comfort to both of them.

She reviewed herself one last time in the mirror. Very presentable, she thought, and still the fastest turnaround time in the west.

They arrived at the restaurant well after the lunch rush so they had their choice of tables. They chose a sunny area with big comfortable chairs, a view of the water, and away from any other patrons. Liz thought it was interesting that they both ordered finger foods and beer.

When they were comfortable A.J. totally debriefed and his story spilled forth. He told of the details of "the case" in a factual manor. But when he talked about Anita and those emotions, his eyes were fixed and he had a far away look on his face.

Liz's heart ached with empathy for A.J. as he shared the crush of his realization that Anita had aborted a baby that he thought was his. And her heart broke completely for him when he told of finding out that it wasn't. It was obvious that Anita had taken advantage of A.J.'s affection and sensitivity. And Liz would have been completely outraged and angry if she thought it would help in any way right at this moment but she couldn't see how it would.

Liz had managed to keep all but one tear from running down her face and she wiped that away. "A.J., I'm so sorry. It sounds like a terrible emotional roller coaster."

"Well, the ride has stopped." That sounded like a conscious decision. He moved from his almost frozen position to take a drink from his formerly frosty pilsner. Liz reached over to touch A.J.'s hand and he took her hand and held it firmly, as if he weren't going to let it go.

He took a deep breath and changed the subject. "So tell me about your first boyfriend."

Liz couldn't help but smile. "Define what you mean." She saw that A.J. seemed puzzled. "Well, like First kiss, First steady, First love..."

A.J. shook his head and he smiled. It was good to see him smile again. "Umm, First kiss."

"I got nauseous after he kissed me."

"What?" A.J. laughed.

"Well, I was in 8^th grade, um, maybe 14 years old. His older brother had to drive us and we went to a movie."

"A movie," he said, his raised eyebrows inferring all that goes with being in the dark for two hours.

"A matinee. Nothing happened. In fact, I almost fell out of my seat trying to lean away from him."

"Didn't you like him?"

"I don't know. But after the movie we walked to my house and we were listening to reel-to-reel tapes in the living room." Liz's eyes rolled with her recollection. "It was 'The Association'."

"Oh, of course," he laughed, recalling the music.

"I don't know where my parents were but he and I were sitting side by side and... he kissed me... on the lips."

"Not during 'Cherish'," he chided.

"I don't remember that," now Liz was laughing. "But what I do remember is feeling like I wanted to throw up. I guess I just wasn't ready."

"Aw, now I'm sorry."

"Please," she admonished. "I got over it."

"I'll say." A.J. leaned over to Liz and he kissed her... on the lips.

The rest of their long lunch was all conversation with the sole topic of former loves. They talked and laughed about the silly things and the poignant moments. They even did a bit of a game show called, "Where are they now?" and got laughing so hard that they were glad that hardly anyone was still in the restaurant.

Two and a half hours had passed and neither had really applied themselves to eating. Liz knew that it always took forever to eat when you were talking but she didn't think that either had come here as hungry for food as for each other's company.

They stepped out into the bright afternoon sun and walked toward the Camaro still smiling and laughing.

A.J.'s spirit was lighter. "I feel better, " he verbalized, continuing in the spirit of uninhibited sharing.

"I'm glad." Liz's smile widened. "I feel better too." A.J. hadn't expected to hear that. He must have looked at her quizzically because she explained, "Well, the possibility did exist when you showed up at my door that you were coming to say that we shouldn't see each other."

Anita had cut a wider swath than he had considered. "I can't imagine saying that to you."

"Good," she said genuinely and sweetly kissed his lips. Honesty scores a bull's eye, he thought.

A.J. opened the car door for Liz and she gracefully slipped into the passenger seat. He walked around the car and got into the seat next to her and started the engine. A.J. didn't want this part of the day to end. "Why don't you come over to my house and let me cook dinner for you tonight?"

"Oh, A.J., that sounds wonderful but may I make a suggestion?" She proceeded candidly, "I think you should take tonight to reflect on the past few days and find a place in your heart for all of this."

She was right and the nice part was that she had his best interest in mind. It had been a tremendous four days and he did need to digest the happenings and the feelings. He was hesitant to give up on the idea of continuing their conversation but knew he should take the time to himself.

"Not only beautiful, but brilliant, " he said reaching over to caress her cheek. A.J. put the car in gear and headed out of the parking lot.

Liz and A.J. had taken their seats in the audience in anticipation of the concert beginning. This was their first real date since the long lunch two days ago.

He found he had really needed the time that Liz suggested to digest all that had happened. And that had helped him when he went to say goodbye to Anita before she left. When he had wished her well he knew he meant it. He felt there was real closure where he never really had before.

But he had missed Liz during that time and that made tonight a remarkable treat. The grandness of the symphony was enhanced by the honor of escorting his lovely companion. Tonight she was particularly elegant and he was proud to be with her.

Liz leaned her shoulder into A.J.'s and put her other hand on his arm. "Thank you for bringing us here this evening. This is very special."

A.J. placed his hand over hers. "Absolutely my pleasure," he said truthfully. "Thank you for allowing me to become familiar with this work. I've really grown fond of it... and fond of you, Liz. Thank you for suggesting I take that time alone."

She seemed touched by his words. "You're very welcome.

A.J. didn't care what any of the people sitting behind them might think; he had to act on his desire to kiss her beautiful lips right then. His movement was quiet and direct. The kiss was warm, heavenly, and perfect.

As their lips parted and Liz withdrew she bit her lip shyly and looked towards the stage. "You know," she said, taking a deep breath.

"Yes?" he responded, trying to recover.

"It always amuses me that tradition has the audience applaud the conductor as he comes on stage before the concert. He hasn't actually done anything for them yet except fail to trip."

A.J. smiled. He enjoyed her silliness and appreciated her attempt to change the subject. "Why is that?" he asked. Music was her profession.

"I hate to tell you but I have no real idea. My guess is it's a tribute to his previous work and his reputation?"

"We'll go with that," he said as the house lights dimmed. The audience broke forth in applause as the conductor made his way to center stage and bowed his acknowledgement. Liz and A.J. applauded with everyone else as they exchanged knowing glances and smiles.

The orchestra started the, by now, familiar strains of Khachaturian. In the cloak of darkness, A.J. lifted Liz's graceful hand to his lips and kissed it softly. And he continued to hold her hand as they held one another's gaze.

Liz truly was becoming very special to him. With her he felt comfortable and happy. And he was pleased that she was not threatened by Rick, his work or by his past. She was confident and she didn't restrict or manipulate him. He only had to be with Liz if he wanted to be... and he wanted to be.