I spot her coming back, and from the rigidity of her back, I recognize that she's upset. Something tells me it's not about me anymore, and that concerns me. But we don't have the kind of relationship where I can ask.

She sits down across from me, and almost immediately stands up, disappearing. When she returns, she has a beverage that is definitely alcoholic.

"Everything okay?" I query.

"Fine," she nods, but if she thinks she's fooling anyone, she needs to reassess her poker face.

Taking a sip, she plugs in her phone, pulling a book out of her bag, settling back to read, studiously avoiding me now.

I've been called stubborn a time or two, and I know I should drop it, but she seriously looks so unhappy, I cannot ignore it.

"Look," I lean forward, touching her knee, "I know we're not on the best of terms right now but I'm here to listen."

For a brief moment, I think she's going to thaw. Her hands tremble a little, and her lip starts to quiver. A stranger sitting near us would never notice. They're all subtle signs.

Abruptly, she shakes her head, "I'm fine," is her comment, and I know she's faking. But what more can I do? She won't let me in.

==============

Strolling through the airport, Xavier and Meg walk close enough to touch, but they don't. It's too public, and Meg can't allow her parents to see her photographed with X. The lecture she would get isn't worth it. They might even pressure her to quit, or maybe refuse to take care of Titus which would tie her hands so that she had to resign.

When they find a restaurant, they choose a table in the back, and X pulls his ball cap over his eyes to help with becoming less recognizable.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" he asks.

"Nope," she assures him, "First of all, neither of us is legal. Secondly, I don't need alcohol to heighten my emotions or have a good time. Especially not when I'm with you."

Blushing, Xavier ducks his head behind his menu. Holy hell. What is he supposed to say to that? She really is the sweetest creature on the face of the planet. He hears Minnie's voice in his head, reminding him, "People like to know what you're thinking. You have to open up sometimes."

Clearing his throat, Xavier closes the menu, leaning forward, preparing to tell her everything he's thinking. Meg looks up at him expectantly, which is the exact moment the server slams down two glasses of water and demands, "What'dya want?"

Xavier is pissed off. He starts to stand up and tell off the bitchy woman when Meg touches his hand, and he calms immediately. "We would like one Caesar Salad with chicken and one steak, medium, baked potato, all of the fixings. Thanks," she orders.

The woman grunts and moves away, and Xavier captures Meg's eyes with his, "Thank you," he whispers. "How did you...."

"Xavier Alex," she starts, sitting up tall, "I've known you for exactly a year today. I know how you order your steak. I pay attention to such things." She puts her shoulders back defensively, "I'm really good at my job, you know. Really good."

Smiling, he knows he needs to fix this, "Meg, I know you're good at your job. I think...." he takes a giant breath before he continues, "I've been in such a drunken stupor this last year that it didn't register -- YOU didn't register. But you have to know....." His voice stalls as he finds himself choked up, so he humphs to get the frog out of his throat, "how very much I appreciate you."

Meg starts to speak, but Xavier holds up his hand in a stop signal, "No. If you talk now, I'll never get this out. Meg, you....." he stalls, seeking the correct words, "You mean the world to me. You have stood by me longer than anyone, including Olivia. And I have done a lousy job of letting you know how much you mean to me."

This time, it's Meg who ducks her head, embarrassed. "Hush, you," she admonishes, "You have to know you are important to me too." Deciding to lighten the mood, she continues, "After all, who else would put up with you for this long?" Her laughter starts high as she expects him to join in, but when he doesn't, it fades away.

The look on his face is enough to stop her laughter, "A year. A whole year, Meg. How have you...." Xavier can barely force the words past his throat, "Thank you."

She nods as the server places the salad and steak on the table, the plates clattering in her hurry to deliver it. She hasn't once paid attention to her guests, so she doesn't know that she's served one of the hottest up-and-coming movie stars in Hollywood. Then again, she works at LAX. She's seen her share of celebrities. What's one more?

=============

Meg and Xavier return, and I'm relieved to see them. They look very happy, and I realize that they must have feelings for each other. It's clear in the way they watch each other, the way their bodies move and shift when they are next to each other. Do Minnie and I appear that way to others? Is it that obvious that we've known each other.....uh....biblically?

I hope not because then the fact that she's no longer speaking to me will be even more glaring. It's not long after the teens return that we finally get to board. Meg, Xavier and Minnie board before me, as I decide to take a quick restroom break before we get on the long flight. We were supposed to land in NYC around 2:30 this afternoon, but with the delay, it appears that it will be closer to 6:00 before we are on the ground. It's never fun being delayed but today has felt like a larger burden than usual.

When I board, I make my way to seat 4E in first class. Minnie's already seated in 4F, and I stand in the aisle, trying to decide if I should switch seats with someone or not. Minnie looks up from her drink and the screen in front of her. Her eyes widen as she spies me. Glancing at the line behind me waiting to enter the plane, she gestures towards my seat, her eyes quickly returning to the screen, and I count it as a victory even if she doesn't consider it one.

I look at her monitor to see that she's watching a romantic comedy, and I smile, remembering our time on Sunday watching two classic rom coms. Hoping she recalls that moment, too, I grin shyly at her, but she's having none of it. I've never seen her this frosty, and it's starting to worry me. You see, at some point between our encounter this morning and this very moment, I've decided that I really want to be buried inside her again. Soon. But in order to get that result, I'm going to have to open up to her, and that's a hard thing for me to swallow. If she were willing to let me stay at her hotel, it wouldn't be an issue. We could fu- uh, enjoy each other's company without anyone (well, me specifically) having to be too vulnerable. Maybe I should suggest it to her. I could sleep at her hotel tonight. That would be nice. We fit together well. That's a given. In fact, sitting next to her, thinking about being deep inside her, I am already shifting in my seat, trying to adjust myself and get comfortable. She's such a sexual being.

But she doesn't acknowledge me at all, and I wonder if I've fucked everything up.

============

Minnie doesn't know what to do. The upgrade to first class is nice, but having to spend five hours on a plane trapped next to the man she has just decided can no longer be part of her life is going to be torture. Maybe she can get some sleep. Curling up on her side, leaning against the window, Minnie stuffs her earbuds in her ears, attempting to sleep. But no matter what she tries, Harry's face keeps popping into her head. She keeps her eyes closed tightly anyway because the alternative is having to deal with Harry being in close proximity. Maybe another drink will help? Minnie waves to the flight attendant, requesting another screwdriver. The woman bustles off to get it, dodging the boarding passengers.

Harry is looking at her, but she turns back to the movie on her screen, determined to pretend he doesn't exist. Which is hard because, no matter how angry she is at him, he still makes her heart pound and her thighs rub together to try to fill that need. When the drink arrives, she downs it in three gulps, determined to get some sleep on this flight. The warmth from the alcohol seeps into her bloodstream, and she starts to feel drowsy after a few minutes. Settling in her seat as the plane gathers speed on the runway, Minnie is finally able to drift to sleep.

=============

She's fallen asleep. No surprise after two screwdrivers plus the third she'd had in the lounge. When the attendant checks on us after takeoff, I ask for a blanket, covering Minnie so she doesn't get too cold. I can't focus with her next to me. All that keeps running through my head is that I've blown my chance with her. She'll never let me back into her life, and it's not even 24 hours since she gave me permission to use her nickname. Fuck.

I live for you. I long for you. Wilhelmina.

When she turns towards me in her sleep, seeming to want a cuddle, I forcefully push up the armrest separating us so I can wrap my arm around her and pull her close. Her cheek rests on my chest, and as she snuggles into me, she rests her hand on my thigh. I'm on fire. She's going to regret this when she wakes up, but I'm enjoying it immensely.

===========

Xavier notices Meg yawning. "You okay, Meg-pie?" he asks.

"Meg-pie?" she questions him, turning slightly in her middle seat to face him in the window seat next to her.

Sheepishly, he looks down, "Just trying on a nickname. If you don't like it....."

"Hush, you. I like it just fine. You caught me by surprise," and she yawns again.

"We've got a long flight, Meg-pie," Xavier mumbles, "Maybe you should try to get some sleep."

She nods a bit, then looks at the woman seated next to her on the aisle. "This isn't exactly the most comfortable place to sleep," she whispers to her boss.

He pushes up the armrest between them, inviting Meg with a gesture to lean into him and get comfortable. Meg places her head on his chest near his heart, hearing its steady beat under her ear. This is what she's missed all these years. Sure, Titus is a great cuddler. But he's three years old. And he's not as warm and safe-feeling as Xavier. Meg worries about how Xavier will react when he finds out she has a kid, but then she decides she's not going to let a little issue like that stop her from enjoying the time she has with X. He sighs as she settles close to him, and they both drift off to sleep.

==========

Minnie awakens as the plane is coming in for its final approach. The flight attendant has returned, tapping her seat back, reminding Harry, "Your wife needs to put up her seat for landing." Hearing these words as she becomes aware of her surroundings horrifies Minnie, but not nearly as much as finding out that she's drooled on Harry's shoulder. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Blinking rapidly, she sits up quickly, unwilling to admit that she'd had some of the best sleep she has ever had on a plane. As the wheels touch the ground, she is reminded once more that Harry has declined to let her visit his home. Essentially, he's refused to let her glimpse his life. And it's really not fair. She's been incredibly open with him (when she's had to anyway): her Sunday morning ritual, letting him sleep over all night -- TWICE, allowing him to see her with James and Jules and giving him permission to use her nickname. Damn. There is very little she hasn't revealed to him. And what has he revealed? Practically nothing. A little angst over an ex-fiancée. But that's old news.

As they stand, she pulls her bag from under her seat, only to find that her lotion inside has opened from the pressure during the flight, and her bag is wet. Which means her clothes are covered in lotion. Fuck. Could this day be any worse? She sees Harry from the corner of her eye, noticing her dilemma, but he says nothing.

When they disembark, she pulls herself away from his side in the airport, waiting for Meg and Xavier. Stretching her legs, she is grateful when the teens step off the plane. Spotting her, they step apart, apparently afraid she will find out they have an interest in each other. She wants to roll her eyes. After all, she has been aware of their interest since her very first day on the job as Xavier's publicist. But she will let them have their little secret if that's what they need.

With the four of them together, they make their way out to their ride, a black SUV waiting at the curb.

==========

I watched her face as she pulled her bag from under her seat and the look of disgust as she felt the bottom. Opening the bag, she reached in, pulling out an opened bottle of lotion. Damn. Even though it was only 3 oz, it had spilled everywhere.

Her frustration emanates from her in waves, and I know she's blaming me for this, even though it's not even remotely my fault. Her phone starts pinging with text messages as soon as we are off the jetway. While we wait for Meg and Xavier to deplane, she responds to a few of the messages, and her face grows weary the more she reads. Whatever is going on with the person on the other end of those messages is disturbing Minnie greatly, and it hurts me to watch.

When we get into the black SUV waiting for us, Minnie climbs in the front seat, making it clear that she is done sitting next to me. The lovebirds (I mean, Xavier and his PA) pile into the back seat, sitting pretty closely together. So that leaves me on my own. A place I'm used to being these days, so why does it hurt so much?

When we arrive at their hotel, I hesitate after they all step onto the curb. But dammit. I live for you. I long for you. I'm not ready to give her up yet, so I scramble out, asking the driver to wait. If I know what room she's in, I can come back and make a case for sleeping in her room. New York is a dangerous place after all. A single woman shouldn't stay unprotected in a hotel room.

She waits patiently, watching me suspiciously while Xavier and Meg check into their rooms. They give her kisses on the cheek before they head up the elevator. Minnie steps to the counter, and I lounge lazily nearby, trying to listen so I can hear her room number.

"What do you mean I don't have a reservation?" she asks sharply. "I made one. The confirmation number is right here." She sorts through the mail on her phone, shoving the email in his face, angrier than I've ever seen her.

"I'm sorry, miss, but that confirmation number doesn't exist in my system," the clerk is quite haughty.

"Well, then give me whatever room you have available. I don't need much. A bed and a shower," my girl demands, but the man behind the computer is already shaking his head.

"Ma'am, we're booked completely. There's a convention across the street, and there are no rooms left," he tells her.

She glances at me, and I see her shoulders droop. I'll take her to another hotel. I have the driver here.

"Min-" She glares at me, so I start again, "Olivia...."

She looks at me with dead eyes, and I've never seen her like this. She's sagging badly, and I scroll back through the whole day, from this morning to now.

"Come on," I sigh, taking her elbow, "You're staying with me tonight." It's the only thing that makes sense for so many reasons, and I find as I say the words that I'm not as upset as I thought I would be. This should be devastating to me, and yet there's an uncoiling in my stomach when she allows me to steer her back to the SUV at the curb.