"Delivery for Mr. Berenson that requires assembly," the young man intoned to Rodney, the morning doorman. He had a heavy New York accent, with his vowels narrowing and his R sounds all but disappearing. He wore a baseball cap and brown coveralls with the name "Billy" embroidered across the left side, and carried a long box with a picture of a bookshelf stenciled on it in both arms as though it were very heavy. "Apartment 18C. Could you buzz 'im for me?"

Rodney nodded to Billy and buzzed Frederick's apartment. "Delivery for you, Mr. Berenson. Looks like a bookcase? May I send him up?"

"Sure, go ahead," Frederick replied.

Rodney buzzed Billy in and pressed the elevator button for him.

"Thanks, man," Billy said laconically as the elevator arrived.

"No problem," Rodney responded as the doors closed.

When Billy got to the 18th floor, he walked straight to apartment C and briskly rang the bell.

Frederick, dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, opened the door and turned away, walking back into the apartment. "I want it over there, in the empty space by the window, okay? And try not to make too much noise while you're putting it together, if you don't mind, I didn't have a great night, and didn't get a lot of--"

Billy suddenly threw the box, which seemed to have gotten a lot lighter, at the back of Frederick's head, making him jump and give a startled yell. He turned around, hand going to his head, to confront Billy.

"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing? I'll have your job for that, you cretin." He looked down at the box, which appeared to be empty. "And where the hell is the bookcase?"

Billy stepped forward and punched Frederick squarely in the jaw, sending him staggering into the sofa. His bathrobe opened, exposing a sickly white belly and hairy legs, along with an inordinately small stub of pink penis that poked out between the two.

"What the hell?" Frederick yelled as he rose and belted his robe closed. "What company do you work for?" He squinted at the name on the blue coveralls. "Billy, is it? You've just made your last delivery, that's for fucking sure." He'd pulled out his phone, and was punching numbers as he spoke. "You obviously don't know who you're dealing with."

"My name isn't Billy." The young man in the coveralls spoke for the first time, and, to Frederick's surprise, he had the poshest, most upperclass English accent he'd ever heard, with just a splash of French or Italian or something thrown in. "It's Cameron Aldobrandeschi, and I'm here for Penelope's cat."

"What? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No." Even as he uttered the one syllable, Cam was walking into the bedroom and opening the closet, reaching up above where the clothes were hung to grab the yellow cat carrier.

"You can't barge in here disguised as a delivery person, assault me and take my cat," Frederick said, following Cam into the bedroom.

"Course I can," Cam said calmly, setting the carrier on the bed. "I don't see anyone here who's going to stop me. Who's going to? You?" His voice was filled with contempt. "You touch me and I'll lay you out flat, you big wanker, although I really shouldn't call you 'big wanker,' given what I just saw out there, should I?" He looked at Frederick's crotch and snickered. "And if you touch me, my first phone call will be to my publicist, and my second will be to my great uncle, the Ambassador to the UN, who will make sure my treatment at your hands makes the evening news. So think hard before you lift a hand toward me, you bellend."

He went around the bed to where a beautiful longhaired tuxedo cat was sleeping in a patch of sunlight. "Come here, darling C-chan," he crooned.

"She won't let you pick her up, she hates strangers," Frederick predicted, crossing his arms.

But, to his surprise, Carol Channing merely lifted her head and blinked amber eyes at Cameron, asking with a questioning, "Meow?" where they were going in the middle of her nap time.

Cam stroked her head and gently placed her in the carrier, zipping it up and lifting it off the bed.

"You pathetic cockwomble, how could you throw a woman out of her home with no notice because you didn't like how she disagreed with you on something so pitiably insignificant?" Cameron asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So, if you're half smart, you'll let me out of here unmolested, and I'll let you get back to your life and you let me get back to mine, yeah?" Cam suggested, picking up the box as he passed through the living room.

"Whatever that worthless cunt told you about me isn't true, you know," Frederick said, following Cam as he headed toward the door.

"All she's said about you is that you're very talented," Cam said briefly as he opened the door. "And that you didn't like her cat. And I already knew that." He turned and gave a cheerful wave from the hallway. "Hope I never see you again," he called as he pushed the elevator button. "Have a nice life."

Frederick gave him a glare and shut his front door with force.

Cam pushed the button for the basement and exited the back way, where Penny was waiting for him. They threw the empty box in a convenient dumpster, and grabbed a taxi on 1st Ave. back to his loft. Penny was ecstatic to be reunited with C-chan and spoke to her the whole way back in a sing-song voice that Cameron found absolutely adorable, though he would've died before telling her so.

After they got back and let her out to explore the loft, Cam changed out of his coveralls and made them sandwiches for lunch.

"Wow, you're a good cook," Penny said, taking a huge bite of her sandwich.

"I'd hardly call ham and egg salad sandwiches 'cooking,'" Cam responded with a laugh. "But yeah, I've been on my own for a bit, so it was either learn to cook or starve. I like to eat, so out of self-interest, I put my heart into it, you know?" Then he, too, took a huge bite of his sandwich. "It's kind of nice to be with a female who isn't afraid to eat," he said, watching her. "I'm usually around girls who are on perpetual diets, always worrying about their weight, you know?"

"Oh," Penny said, suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed. "Yeah, that's not me, though I guess it should be, hunh?"

"What?" Cam was shocked. "No, of course not! If you don't have to weigh 90 pounds, why would you want to? It's horrid to live like that."

"But don't you think they look better? Prettier?" Penny asked.

"No," Cam said firmly. "They look the way they have to look for the careers they've chosen, just like swimmers look the way they have to look and gymnasts have those crazy thighs and look the way they have to look, yeah?" He looked indignant. "You're having an incredible career, so obviously you look just the way you're supposed to look, I reckon."

"So, how did it go? How did he take it?" Penny asked as she munched her sandwich. "I'm guessing he didn't take it well?"

Cam shook his head. "I hit him," he told her around a mouthful of sandwich. "So no, he didn't take it very well."

"You what?" Penny gasped.

"You heard me."

"But why? Frederick wouldn't hurt a fly. Why did you have to hit him?" Penny sounded appalled.

"Are you upset that I hit your ex-boyfriend?" Cameron was annoyed at her attitude.

"No, not upset, exactly. It just seems so--violent, that's all," Penny stuttered.

Cam was silent for a beat, then shrugged. "I don't know, it just made me angry, I suppose, the way he treated you, as though you didn't matter at all, you know? Like he was finished with you, so it was time to get you off stage or something." He shrugged again and took another bite of his sandwich. "No one deserves to be treated that way."

"I just think you could've gotten Carol Channing out of there without all the violence, that's all," Penny said in a quiet voice.

"Well, maybe it just felt good," Cameron said with a smile as he finished his sandwich. "Are you upset with me? Do you wish I hadn't hit the douchecanoe?"

Penny shook her head. "No, not necessarily. I'm just not used to people hitting each other, that's all."

"Well, I'm not, either," Cam said, irritated. "I don't go round hitting random people. I just felt he deserved it for sending you packing over such a minor thing, and I was upset about it, that's all."

"Please, don't get upset," Penny said. "I'm grateful, truly."

"How long are you going to stay?" Cam asked abruptly. "I've a life to get back to."

"Just a week, until my friend comes back from Florida," Penny answered, stung. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry. And I am grateful, for C-chan and for you letting me stay. Really." She bit her lips together and sniffed.

Cam didn't answer, but merely grabbed her plate and carried it to the sink.

"I can do the cleaning and stuff while I'm here," Penny began desperately. "I can pay my share."

"Don't bother, I don't need the money."

Penny sniffed again and rose.

Cam stopped running the water and leaned on the sink.

"Penelope, hold on," he said without turning around.

"Yes?" she said in a soft voice.

"I'm sorry for being such a brute. I'm just used to living alone, and I've become set in my ways. I'm not accustomed to being around other people for extended periods of time. I'll try to be civil while you're here, yeah?"

Penny nodded, even though he wasn't facing her and couldn't see.

"Yes, thank you. And I'll try not to be an annoyance. I'll try to stay out of your hair."

Cam turned around and gave her a smile on his perfect face. "Fair enough."

"Can I take a shower?"

"Course. Guest bath is over near your room, where you washed up last night. Extra towels are in the cupboard next to the palm tree, yeah?"

"Okay. And thanks again."

Cam watched her walk away and vowed to try harder to be nice to her. She was only going to be there for a week, and she was going to be his co-star. They were supposed to fall in love and have a fantastic love affair, it wouldn't do if they were at each other's throats.

He could think of it as rehearsal.