"MJ, I mean this in the nicest, most loving possible way, but you're fucking daft," Heath said, running his hand through his long hair in frustration.

"Yes, thank you so very, very, much, Heath, I'll take those words in the warm, loving spirit in which they were intended," MJ responded, lips pursed as she shook her head.

Heath looked across the conference table at Tasos, begging with his eyes for support.

Tasos looked back helplessly. For Heath this was a new experience, but Tasos had done battle with this MJ before, and he already knew the outcome.

This was an early morning meeting, attended by Sally, MJ, Heath, a couple of organizers from the venue, some lawyers, and a couple of the doctors who had treated MJ and Heath at the ER. Even the nice detectives were in attendance. And Tasos, of course, who so obviously felt out of place that Heath felt sorry for him.

It was the following morning, and everyone was feeling a bit ragged. The preceding evening had held a live press conference by the Chicago PD, with statements by the doctors, and, briefly, by MJ and Heath. It had been a total media circus, with ninety-nine percent of the shouted questions going unanswered by the police, and very few more by the doctors.

Just as the furor over this event was dying down, Meredith Renner had given a press conference of her own at her hotel across town, proclaiming her innocence and lack of involvement in whatever had happened in her hotel suite the preceding night. Her press conference had apparently been given against the advice of her attorney, who'd stood, stoney-faced and arms crossed, to the side of the podium from which she addressed reporters.

Needless to say, everyone was feeling a bit frayed around the edges this morning as they sipped their coffee and ate the delicious breakfast provided by the Peninsula Hotel.

Heath looked next at Sally, hoping she could talk a little sense into his girlfriend. He even found himself wishing Melanie were in attendance, with her piss and vinegar tongue.

"MJ, no one, and I mean no one, expects you and Heath to go onstage tonight," Sally tried, making her voice as encouraging and positive as possible. "You were violently sexually assaulted just two nights ago, love, and Heath was severely beaten, I mean, look at his poor face--"

"I know I was violently sexually assaulted, and that Heath was severely beaten, Sally, I was there," MJ interrupted.

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, that was so rude," she added, reaching out to cover Sally's hand with her own.

"My point is that we know better than anyone, I think, what we're ready for," she went on, trying to keep her tone mild. "One show was already canceled, and I don't see why any more should be over this sordid mess when there's no need." She looked over at Heath. "If I believed that Heath really were incapable of performing, that he really didn't want to, I wouldn't be saying this. I have a suspicion, however, that he's balking because of me, because he thinks I don't want to, or I shouldn't, or some bullshit like that. And I don't want to let that subhuman animal Carter Holmes, or his crazy accomplice, Meredith Renner, control the events of my life any more than they already have, that's all."

She looked around the table, clear-eyed and serious, and Heath was so proud he thought his heart would beat out of his chest. The truth was that she was right. If she weren't in the picture, he would be pushing hard for tonight's show to go on as scheduled, even though his face was five very interesting shades of blue and purple, and he did have a bruised rib. But after all, if he was up for his activities with MJ in the bedroom, surely he could hold a guitar and sing a few songs?

"Some of the people who had tickets for last night's show came from really far away to see Heath perform," MJ continued. "If we do tonight's show as scheduled, and honor last night's tickets tomorrow night instead of taking it off, we would be right back on schedule, right? I mean, it's not optimum, since we don't know how many of last night's ticket holders can even hang around until tomorrow night, but it's the best we can do, I think."

"Hold on, hold on," Heath said, his voice louder than he intended. "We haven't finished discussing whether or not we're even going to do tonight's show, and you're already talking about re-scheduling last night's show, you sneaky little--minx," he finally finished, his face showing indignation.

"Minx?" MJ repeated, unable to hold back her signature, snorting, laugh.

"Shut it, you," Heath fired back as he, too, gave in to his laughter, throwing a coffee stirrer at her face.

The tension at the table was broken, and everyone indulged in a good laugh.

"So," MJ continued as the laughter finally died down, "Heath's colorful face to the contrary, I think it's obvious that we're feeling marginally okay. I think we should do tonight's show." She looked at the two venue reps who were at the table. "And I think we should re-schedule last night's show for tomorrow night, if the arena is available.?"

The reps looked at each other, then looked at MJ and nodded. Somehow, MJ had ended up running the meeting.

Heath felt himself swelling with pride again. He looked over at Bampás and could tell he was feeling the same thing.

"How about if we honor last night's tickets at tomorrow night's re-scheduled show, and offer refunds to unused tickets after tomorrow night?" MJ suggested to Sally. "Isn't that how it's usually done?"

Sally nodded. "Speaking of refunds," she added, "Meredith put out a statement through her website this morning that, due to unforeseen events and exhaustion, she's cancelling the rest of her tour. She's offering refunds to ticket holders, but a little bird's told me that, so far, very few have been issued."

"What does that mean?" Tasos asked.

"It means that everyone who has a ticket to see the Meredith Renner/Heath Spencer Show pretty much wants to hang on to their ticket, which means that, in actuality, the person they really wanted to see was Heath Spencer, and, more likely than not, your daughter," Sally told him.

Tasos began to beam like a pumpkin with a mustache, and he finally took a large drink of coffee to cover his smile.

"Before we let these two youngsters completely steamroll us," Sally said, gesturing at Heath and MJ, "are they cleared to perform, doctors?"

Heath gave Sally a hurt look at her words. He pointed ostentatiously at himself, as if to say that she surely didn't mean to include him in her words?

Sally raised an eyebrow at him and looked again at the doctors.

"My only concern would be pain on Mr. Spencer's part," one doctor said. "He sustained some pretty serious blows to his midsection and his face at the hands of Mr. Holmes. However, he tells me he hasn't taken any of the pain pills we prescribed, so he obviously has a very high pain threshold, and appears to be bearing up well."

"And as far as Ms. Jassemolada," the second doctor continued, " while she was in considerable pain the first night from blows to her face, most of the swelling has gone down, and she says she hasn't taken any pain medication since yesterday morning. A lot of what concerns me about her will be psychological, of course, if I may speak frankly?" She looked at MJ for permission, which MJ gave by nodding. "If Ms. Jassemolada feels confident about appearing in front of such large crowds so soon, well, she's obviously the best judge of such matters. If what we've seen here is any indication, I don't think she'll have any trouble at all." The doctor smiled at MJ, who gave a beautiful smile back, melting Heath's heart a little bit.

His phone dinged with a text, and he read it as MJ watched.

His face contorted into a look of surprise, as he mouthed, "What the fuck?"

MJ tapped the table to get his attention. "What?" she mouthed silently at him.

"I'm sorry, but are we about finished here?" he asked, looking around. "It seems my family's just arrived."

"What?" Sally asked in a humorous repetition of MJ. "Who? I mean which ones? Which members?"

"All of them," Heath told her, his voice stupefied with shock.

"What?" MJ said, giving the word voice this time. "Did you say your whole family's just arrived?"

"Yeah, my whole fucking family's just arrived in fucking Chicago," Heath said in the same, dumbstruck tone. "Sorry, Bampás," he said to Tasos, who waved his apology aside.

"Are they right outside?" Tasos asked. "I'm not wearing my good pants, MJ," he said, his voice very concerned. "Will I have time to change?" It took Heath a moment to remember that, to Americans, "pants" meant "trousers," not "underpants."

MJ had grabbed Heath's phone and read the text.

"Don't worry, Dad, they're on their way from the airport, you'll have time to put your good pants on," she reassured him, patting his shoulder as they left the conference room.

The three of them went back to their suite, where MJ helped her father find a pair of trousers, that, as far as Heath could see, looked exactly the same as the ones he was already wearing.

MJ shut the door so her father could change, saw the look on Heath's face, and said, "Don't ask," with a little laugh.

Heath had to kiss her right then because he loved her so very much, so he did, and he told her so as well.

"Can I do something to your hair?" MJ asked after he'd released her. "Something I've been dying to do?"

Heath nodded. "Anything," he assured her.

MJ ran to the bathroom and returned with a hair tie and a brush. She proceeded to put Heath's hair up in a pony tail. It was a little one, but it was long enough to flare out just a bit, and swing when he walked.

"So so sexy," MJ murmured when she finished. "Not quite enough for a man-bun yet, but soon."

"Really?" Heath asked, tickled. "Sexy?"

MJ nodded, smiling. She didn't get a chance to say anything, though, because the door opened at that moment, and his mother, father, brother and sister came in.

"Oh, Heath, MJ, thank god, thank god," Margaret said, sweeping them into her arms. The normally undemonstrative Hugh threw caution to the wind and simply put his arms around all three of them, letting the tears fall freely down his craggy cheeks. Archie, his hair cut short for school, and Poppy, still carrying her book bag, stood and looked on, waiting their turn.

Heath and MJ finally turned to the younger Spencers for another heartfelt four-way hug as Archie and Poppy cried, and MJ tried to comfort them.

"Don't cry, you guys, we're okay, shh," she murmured, rubbing their backs.

Archie looked so much like Heath it was making MJ emotional.

Thankfully, Tasos, clad in his good pants, emerged from the bedroom, and introductions commenced.

"Now please tell me why on earth you're here?" Heath asked as they all sat down and MJ called room service for tea.

"There are some times in life that it's simply an 'all hands on deck' situation for family," Margaret explained.

"And even a tosser like you should know that this is one of them," Archie said, sniffing and rubbing his already pink nose.

"Wanker," Heath responded with affection, pulling his brother in for a one armed hug from his position next to him on the couch.

"Aren't families wonderful?" Tasos said, looking around and smiling.