"I feel sick," MJ announced as soon as Poppy had shut the door to Heath's suite.

"No, are you joking?" Archie fell on the sofa, kicking his feet with delight. "I haven't had that much fun in ages. Did you see the look on her gob? And that stoner nitwit she's been shagging? Good lord--"

He broke off as MJ ran past him for the bathroom.

She knelt in front of the commode and braced herself, holding her hair out of the way, but nothing happened, so after a few minutes she rose and left, entering the main area just as Archie and Poppy were getting ready to leave.

"Oh no, don't go on my account," she protested. "I'm fine, honest."

They turned around, giving Heath uncertain looks.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," MJ insisted, gesturing at the sofa. "At least finish the drinks it looks like you started."

So they sat back down and picked up their wine glasses. Heath gestured to MJ, so she took a seat next to him in the wide chair.

"I feel kind of guilty, Archie, I promised your mother I'd watch out for you, and wouldn't let you drink too much," MJ confessed as she watched him take a drink from his glass.

"That's rich, considering how much they let me drink at home," Archie said with a grin.

"Plus, why didn't she ask me to keep an eye on him?" Heath asked, offended. "I'm his brother, plus I'm the oldest." He drained his glass and poured himself another drink.

"Maybe because of that?" Poppy asked rhetorically, eyebrow raised. "She asked me to keep an eye on him as well," she quipped, tipping her glass in Heath's direction before sharing a smile with MJ.

"Now I'm just hurt," Heath said.

"Poor baby," MJ said, mussing his hair. "Wow, it's really getting long, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it really goes crazy in warm weather," Heath said, smoothing it back. "You like it, though, right?"

MJ nodded.

"So, really, all offensive jokes about that horribly spoiled girl aside, what are we going to do?" Poppy asked, looking around.

Heath took a deep breath.

"Is there anything to do? I mean, realistically," MJ asked. "Once the song's registered with ASCAP, I thought it was pretty much over, legally speaking." She looked around. "I'm the first to admit, my knowledge of this is from the one afternoon my music publishing class devoted to it two years ago, and I didn't really pay attention, because I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd need the information..." She took a drink of her wine. "I've contributed all I can to the discussion, so this is me, shutting up now."

"Well, I don't purport to know much about it, either," Heath admitted. "It's never happened to me. We'll know more after Douglas arrives tomorrow. But I do know that this isn't a situation where we can call the police and have her arrested or anything like that. It's definitely legal, not criminal, if you get my meaning."

He huffed out a huge, exhausted breath, running his fingers through his hair again, elongating his long, lean frame. "God, what a nightmare this is going to be." He shook his head.

"I'm sorry," MJ said in a small voice. "You know, Meredith's right." She looked around. "I do have lots of other songs, tons of them. I can let this one go, chalk it up to experience? Call it a learning experience? In a way, it's my own fault, my own stupidity, that landed me here, right? This will teach me to guard my stuff more, and not be so trusting--I brought this on my--"

"NO!"

Heath's voice made MJ jump, causing her to slosh a bit of wine from her glass onto her hand. Heath saw this and was immediately contrite.

"God, I'm sorry I startled you," he apologized, grabbing a tissue to wipe her hand. "But you've nothing to apologize for, you've done nothing wrong, so just stop that, right now."

"But I hate to cause you and your family all this trouble," MJ began. "And your lawyer? I mean, I can't afford your lawyer, Heath, I can't. Meredith's right, I can't have your entire family dragged into court over this sordid mess, over some stupid song, your beautiful parents' lives disrupted over a silly piece of music--"

"First of all, stop repeating 'Meredith's right,' every other sentence, it's setting my teeth on edge," Heath scolded. "Second, it's not 'some stupid song,' nor is it 'a silly piece of music,' it's an homage to your dear mum, a eulogy to your cherished mother."

Heath set his glass down and turned to MJ, his eyes serious. "Meredith had no right to do what she did, none, and we're not going to let her get away with it, that's all."

"Dear MJ," Poppy said from her place next to Archie. "You already feel like a sister to me, and this doesn't feel like any bother at all, honest, right, Archie?"

He nodded, smiling, looking so much like Heath it was just amazing.

"God, Archie, stop smiling at my girl and sod off to bed, please," Heath said with a smile of his own.

"Heath, that was so rude," MJ said with a laugh.

"Thank you," Archie responded with a nod toward MJ. "I will be toddling off to bed, however, as I am feeling quite exhausted."

"And, now that I've finished my wine, I'll join you," Poppy added, rising to follow Archie.

"Good night, then," Heath and MJ called as they, too, rose to go to bed.

"I know it's stupid, and they we did this exact thing in Surrey for  over a fortnight, but I feel like we've taken some sort of momentous step," Heath confessed to MJ with a grin as they stood next to each other at the double vanity to brush their teeth. "Almost like we've moved in together or something, you know?"

"Yeah? Well, we haven't," MJ said, maybe a little more abruptly than she meant to. "This is only until the tour's over, remember," she informed him. "Then you'll be off back to London for house hunting and I'll be back to LA to life with my dad."

"Yeah, right, I know," Heath answered before returning to scrub his teeth.

"So, honestly, how do you see this thing with Meredith shaking out?" MJ asked as they faced each other a few minutes later in bed.

"First, scoot closer, you're much too far away," Heath informed her.

MJ moved in, and Heath pulled her into his chest, inhaling deeply.

MJ kissed his collarbone where it showed just above his T-shirt and snuggled in.

"So, well, one of the few things I remember when this came up with someone who was in that contest with us, all those years ago? Is that we don't need to be in a huge hurry to force the other person to stop performing or selling the song, especially if it's doing well, believe it or not," Heath told MJ.

"Really? Why not?" MJ's voice didn't hold disbelief, only curiosity.

"Well, think of it this way. Do you feel confident that someday you'll be able to prove in a court of law that you wrote the song? Do you?" Heath asked.

"Yeah? I guess so," MJ responded.

"There's really no 'I guess so' about it, is there?" Heath asked, giving MJ a little shake. "Between my laptop, and my entire family, plus a couple of things I've got up my sleeve that I'll tell you about tomorrow--"

"What?"

"--plus a couple of things I've got up my sleeve that I'll tell about about tomorrow--" Heath repeated with a little laugh, "this should be one of those open and shut cases, I believe, you know?

"So, as long as you can prove at the end of the day that the song is yours, that means that whatever money that song earns has to go into your pocket, no matter who earned it, you see?"

"You're saying that, even if Meredith makes, like, a bazillion dollars off sales of that song, as soon as the courts rule in my favor, she's legally obliged to turn all that money over to me?" MJ asked.

"Yeah."

And even though it was dark, MJ could tell that Heath had a very smug smile on his face. "So you're saying that, even she earns a bazillion dollars off the song, and I earn nothing, all of the money she earns will eventually come to me anyway?"

And she could feel Heath nod.

"Yeah."

"So all that matters is what happens at the end, not what happens now?"

"Yeah."

MJ was quiet for a moment.

"MJ? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about what you've got up your sleeve that you're going to tell me about  tomorrow?"

"Oh my god, you've got the tenacity of a terrier, MJ, I swear to Christ--"

"Hey! Did you just call me a dog?"

"No! No, I did not! I just said you had the tenacity of one, which is a completely different thing!" Heath yelped as MJ pinched him on the belly.

"MJ! MJMJMJMJMJ! Listen! Ahhh listen please!" He grasped her hands in an attempt to hold her off him.

"What?"

Heath got serious for a moment. "Meredith's going to come after you every way she knows how, and she's going to use all of her horrible friends and fans, too. They're not called 'Renner's Renegades' for nothing, you know? So we're going to have to do something as well, that's all I'm saying."

Heath pulled her close and kissed her, first on the tip of her nose, then on her mouth. "All I'm saying is that I have more experience, both in dealing with people like her, and with the public in general, than you. So whatever we end up doing tomorrow, you have to trust me, okay? And just believe me when I tell you that I know better than you how to take care of this mess?" He gave her a gentle shake. "Have a little faith in your Heath? Please? Promise me you'll try to just do what I say without questioning every little detail? There won't be time for explanations, we're going to need to move fast when things start to happen, yeah?"

"Heath, this is so unfair, can't you just tell me what's going to happen?" MJ begged. "We don't need all this cloak and dagger stuff, do we?"

"We actually do, darling, just trust me, and trust in me, okay?" He put his arms around her and kissed her, deepening the kiss into something full of need, something that both gave and asked for more at the same time.

Then the time for talking was over, and the time for being together was upon them, and so that's what they did, coming together, being together, no words necessary, just sounds of happiness in the dark.