Minnie falls asleep, having cried herself out. Daisy has jumped up onto the bed and is lying cuddled against Minnie's back, her snout resting on Minnie's upper arm. Every once in a while, she lets out a whine.

Patting her head, I whisper, "Me, too, Daisy. Me too. But she's going to be okay." Lifting her head just slightly, she licks my hand before resting again on Minnie.

Helplessly, I've been watching my girl sleep, wondering what on earth could have upset her so badly that she would be nearly catatonic. Her cheeks are stained with tear tracks, and my brain won't stop singing "Tracks of My Tears", complete with Smokey Robinson's voice. It's an annoying earworm, but I can't shake it. Since I've known this incredible woman, I've seen cracks in her armor only twice before. Both times were career related. Wanna bet this one is too?

When my girl finally stirs, she moans, covering her eyes with her forearm. I say nothing, just tracing a soft pattern on her other arm.

"I'm sorry," she croaks, removing her arm from her eyes in order to pet Daisy. "That was rude."

Shifting, I scoot higher on the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Violently, she shakes her head. Thirty seconds later, she nods. "I am a failure," is her pronouncement, and I school my face and body to not reveal any judgment about her statement.

"Why do you say that, baby?" I ask, and yes. I'm aware this is the second time I've called her baby tonight, but she's so fragile that all I can think about is a tiny baby who needs my protection.

Don't mock me. Not in this moment anyway. If I call her "baby" on the red carpet sometime in the future, then you can make fun of me.

"My client? Charles?"

I'm holding my breath because I don't want to say something stupid. He's a ponce. That's my honest opinion of him. But I know that he's been trying, and she's done her best to make him less of a wanker.

"He, uh, slit his wrists today," she forces the words out, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

Oh, God. This is pretty close to the worst thing she could have said. I wait silently because I know there's more.

"The police called me because I was the one he'd called most often recently." Still I continue waiting patiently, not moving. "He might not make it, according to the officer."

My options for response are few. I could reassure her that he will be alright when I have no idea if that's true. Instead, I stroke my hand over her forehead and hair, pressing a kiss there. "I'm sorry, Minnie."

Her eyes well up with tears again, though she still doesn't make eye contact with me. "What if I had pushed the issue? Forced him to go to a hospital? Made him get a psych eval? Could I have saved him then?"

Now my eyes are a bit misty too. Dammit. She's tearing herself up, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

Waiting another minute before speaking, I run through the phrases in my head I could say. They all sound trite, and I realize that sometimes trite phrases are repeated because they are the best option.

"Listen to me," I am firm and gentle, "You did a lot for him. Helped him up when he was down even though he wasn't your client anymore. You gave him encouragement and hope that he was sorely lacking. Maybe you're the reason he held on as long as he did."

As I say the words, I know they aren't enough. Words will never be enough.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" I ask, and she nods.

Suddenly she sits up, "I can't stay here, Harry. I've got responsibilities. Daisy needs....."

I shush her. "Daisy needs food and water and a place to mess. I can provide all of that, and I'm happy to get someone to pack a bag for you."

The tears that had been pooling run over again. "Would you? Cause I don't want to be alone right now."

"Why don't you go take a shower and put on some of my clothes? I'll take care of everything," I tell her, even though I have no idea what 'everything' is.

Wordlessly, she rises from the bed, looking around curiously. That's when it occurs to me that she hasn't been here before. I'm so comfortable at her place that it seems natural for her to be in my space. Quite a difference from the last time she'd been at one of my homes.

Pointing the way to the bathroom and my closet, I ponder when it became normal for me to allow her into my home without freaking out. The truth is that I can't put my finger on the exact time. Maybe when she'd stayed with me in Tribeca. Perhaps when we'd made love after the baby talk. Not that it matters. She's here now, and it feels right.

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

At the commercial, Xavier leans over, capturing Meg's lips in a kiss. She sighs, her hand reaching up to caress his face, smiling against his lips as she opens to his beckoning tongue. He's leaning her back on the sofa just as the phone rings.

"Ignore it," he whispers.

Pulling the device from her pocket, she pushes him away, sitting up straight, a stricken look on her face. "Why is Harry Styles calling me?" She had programmed his number into her phone and texted him hers early on in the filming just in case, but he'd never called before.

"Harry?" she tentatively answers, a curious look on her face. Listening for a few minutes, she stands abruptly, walking to the fridge where there's a pad of paper for her grocery list. Pulling the top sheet off, she starts taking notes.

Confused, Xavier stays on the sofa, wondering what could possibly be going on. Was Harry offering her a job? Because X doesn't care how much of a friend and mentor H has become, no way in hell is he letting the old man steal his personal assistant.

Stalking to the counter, he freezes as he reads the list: comfortable clothes, underwear, makeup, face lotions, dog food..... Now he's really lost. Why would Harry need......Oh! It dawns on him that this is a list of things Minnie might want.

Meg is biting her lip, looking up at Xavier as she agrees with Harry's demands. "I'll be there soon, Harry. Thanks for trusting me. How will her doorman....? Oh. Got it. Thanks."

Thumbing the call off, Meg turns to Xavier. "I have to go to Minnie's. Something happened, and she is staying at Harry's but she needs some stuff. I'm going to have to wake up Titus. Ugh."

"Why do you have to wake him?" X inquires.

"Because he has to go with me. I can't leave him here alone." She's already moving to the bedroom when Xavier puts his hand on her arm.

"I can...uh, I can stay with him until you get back. You know, so you don't need to wake him up," X shares. Her inscrutable look causes him to continue talking hurriedly, "Or, you know, if you don't trust me yet, I can help you carry him to the car."

Stepping to him, Meg places her lips on his, causing him to stop talking so that he can enjoy the moment. "Hush, you. It's a lovely gesture. I won't be long. Thank you."

Gathering her purse, she heads for the door of her apartment. Opening it, she pauses, turning to Xavier. "He's the most precious thing in my life. After the last couple of days, I one hundred percent trust you with him." With that comment, she exits, pulling the door closed behind her.

Xavier feels his heart warm at her words. He can do this. After all, what could go wrong? The kid's sleeping.

========

Arriving at Minnie's building, Meg tells the valet that she'll be back downstairs in about five minutes, so he should just leave the car right where it is. The man nods, stepping back from her while she exits her vehicle.

Inside, she cautiously approaches the front counter. "Uh....excuse me? I'm Meg Bauer, and I'm here....."

"Of course, Ms. Bauer," the kindly (and very large) black gentleman says. "I'm Frank. Just need some ID, ma'am, to prove you are who you say you are."

Fumbling with her purse, she finds and extricates her wallet and then fishes out her driver's license. Her flustered state isn't lost on Frank. "Just protocol, Ms. Bauer. You can go upstairs now. Is Minnie okay?"

The concern in the man's voice makes Meg look up and catch his eyes. "I honestly don't know, Frank. I haven't seen her yet."

"Well, you tell Harry he better take care of that woman. She's pretty special," he gruffly barks, turning away. Grabbing his key card, he escorts Meg to the elevator, scanning his card to provide the permission she needs so she can go upstairs.

Once at Minnie's apartment, Meg stands silently in the foyer, and the silence overwhelms her for a moment. What would life be like without a Titus? How different would things be if she lived in a place like this? Twelve floors up. Insulated from the neighbors. Meg decides it's a bit sterile and eerie.

Lonely. That's the word.

Shrugging off the feeling, she hums to herself for the sole purpose of making noise as she makes her way to Minnie's bedroom, finding a duffel bag in the closet. She stuffs comfortable clothes in the bag, including jeans, sweats, and a couple of flirty skirts. Adding some shirts, she sorts through the shoes, finally deciding a pair of ballet flats will go with everything. With a quick scan of the dresser, she grabs a variety of underwear, choosing the ones she would deem most sexy. While she hasn't a clue why Minnie is staying with Harry (and can't come pack her own bag), she does know that sexy underwear makes everything better.

In the bathroom, she tries sorting through the cosmetics, but there are so many different products, she doesn't know which to choose. Finally, she decides that less is more. Grabbing one face lotion, one eye lotion, and a few assorted toiletries, Meg closes her eyes and chooses some makeup, tossing it in a separate kit bag and then throwing it in the duffel. Surveying the room after packing, she wonders what else she would want if someone were packing for her. Sliding open the bedside table, her eyes widen at the box of condoms. Without thinking too much, Meg adds those to the bag. In the kitchen area, she grabs the bag of dog food (gourmet, of course), and makes sure that there's nothing in the fridge that might spoil.

Just as she's about to summon the elevator again, Meg pauses, thinking about how she would never go overnight without Titus' favorite stuffed animal. What's Minnie's equivalent? Wandering the apartment, she ends up in the guest bedroom (aka Titus' room). Surveying the many Minnie Mouses, her eyes finally settle on one placed prominently in the middle of the bed. It's clearly been loved, as the ear is worn down on one side. The red dress no longer has white polka dots, as they've grayed with age, and her gloves haven't been white in ages. Looking more closely, Meg sees that the nose is completely smushed. This is the one. She knows it. Adding it to the baggage, Meg heads downstairs again, nodding to Frank on her way out.

"I'll keep you posted, Frank," she calls softly over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Ms. Bauer," his deep voice follows her out of the door, and she's impressed that he's remembered her name. But she supposes that when you pay a fortune for an apartment, it should come with some perks.

=========

I've been by her side nonstop (except during her shower). As she sits on the ottoman in the bedroom, I pull the comb through her hair while perching on the arm of the wing chair behind her. The knots come out fairly quickly, and now I'm simply enjoying the feel of pulling the comb through her longer locks.

At first she sat stiffly, but she's relaxed quite a bit since. Putting on my classic acoustic playlist, I hum along to Lennon's "Watching the Wheels" as I tenderly braid her damp hair.

She's put on a pair of my sweatpants and one of my jumpers which appears to be a little big for her, but she's so fluffy that I want to spend the rest of the night (and an indefinite future time yet to be determined) cuddling with her. When the bell at the gate rings, I sigh, not wanting to abandon my task. Squeezing her shoulder with my hand, I pass along the hairbrush. She brushes my hand with hers. Though she hasn't said much at all since sharing about Charles and her doubts, I can tell she's feeling more human now.

Naturally it's Meg at the gate. Greeting her in the drive, I'm relieved that she's brought the dog food because Daisy is already drooling.

As I relieve Meg of both the dog food and the duffel, she worriedly asks, "How is she? Can I see her?"

"Sure," I answer without hesitation, "She's in the bedroom," and I point in the general direction. "I don't think she's ready to talk about anything yet though. You can try."

As Meg starts to walk in that direction, I find a bowl, filling it with Daisy's food. The dog is so happy to have sustenance that she barely acknowledges my presence at all.

==========

"Olivia?" Meg asks, carrying the duffel into the bedroom. The older woman is still perched on the ottoman, lost in her thoughts. "I brought you some things I thought you might need."

Minnie smiles falsely, "Meg! Thank you!" Meg can tell that the emotion is forced, but what can she do?

Minnie takes the bag from the personal assistant, unzipping it. The first thing she pulls out is her MInnie Mouse, and the tears form at the corners of her eyes. Wiping them away, she hugs Meg tightly. "Thank you, sweet Meg. How did you know?"

The younger woman shrugs her shoulders. "Lucky guess. I hope everything else is what you wanted. I had some trouble choosing makeup cause I'm shit at that."

Laughing, Minnie unpacks the bag, feeling completely comfortable in Harry's space, hanging her clothes in his closet, adding her toothbrush to the holder by the sink, sticking her deodorant in the medicine cabinet.

"Did I do okay?" Meg asks, uncertain.

Minnie nods, looking down at the floor before making eye contact with Meg. "I, uh," she starts, shuffling her feet, glancing all around the room before she glances back at Meg, "I don't typically ask for help, so I'm lousy at accepting it," once more looking everywhere but at Meg: her shoulder, the window, the pillows on the bed. Finally, she takes a deep breath, "Thank you."

Knowing the admission was difficult for the older woman, Meg nonchalantly says, "You're welcome. I better get back home. Xavier is watching Titus."

The shocked look on Minnie's face offends Meg, and she bristles, "What? He's perfectly capable of watching a sleeping three year old."

With the recognition that she's upset the younger woman, Minnie relents, "You're right. I'm sorry. He's come a long way since I first met him, and you're correct to trust him with your son. Xavier would protect that child with his life."

Hugging Olivia at the door, Meg waves to Harry, stepping into the night.