"You okay?" Bronwyn Mitchell asked MJ.

MJ nodded, though Heath, who had his arm around her, could feel her body was thrumming like a top.

"Just remember, they asked for this meeting, so that means that they want something," Ms. Mitchell told them. "That already puts them at a huge disadvantage. I'm guessing that Holmes probably wants to deal. That recording is so bad. That means that we can probably leverage what we have against the Renner girl to get her to testify against him." She smiled, which made her very pretty, but also very predatory, almost wolf-like, and, again, MJ was glad she'd be sitting on their side of the table. "You don't have to say anything, okay?"

At eleven o'clock sharp, Carter Holmes and his attorney, Alan Barker, were shown in, along with his parents. Heath didn't know why he was surprised to see them. If he'd been in Carter's place, of course his own parents would've been by his side.

Mr. Barker was a tall man in his mid-fifties, with graying hair. Carter sat down without making eye-contact with anyone, though Heath was hoping he'd look his way. There were no introductions.

MJ kept her face looking relaxed as she glanced first at Mr. Barker, then at Carter. Only Heath knew that, under the table, she was squeezing his fingers so hard she was making his hand numb.

Ms. Mitchell sat and looked across the table, from one to the other of the newcomers to her office, but she didn't say a word, and the silence stretched out.

"Well, I guess you know why we're here," Mr. Barker finally spoke. His voice was surprisingly mild. MJ had expected something deeper, more robust, from someone so tall.

Ms. Mitchell shook her head, her loose Afro shaking back and forth. "No, not really, and I do have a lot going on, so please do state your business, Mr. Barker."

"What about Meredith?" Heath asked, though he wasn't sure he should.

"I invited them for twelve thirty," Ms. Mitchell told him, giving Mr. Barker another look which he understood. You have an hour and a half to make your case, at which time I'll start trying to make a deal with Meredith's team, the look said clearly.

"Okay," Mr. Barker said, opening his briefcase and laying some papers in front of him. "Here's the long and the short of it. Mr. Holmes is willing to plead nolo contendere on the attempted rape charge, if you drop the assault charges against he has pending against Ms. Rain and Mr. Spencer."

Ms. Mitchell, who had been clicking her pen and making a show of reading something, looked up, putting her pen down. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Ms. Mitchell, I know perfectly well that you heard what I said," Mr. Barker said with a slight eye roll.

"You want to plead nolo on the attempted rape in exchange for dropping the assault charges against both of them?" she repeated. "Is that right?"

MJ and Heath were sitting up, looking at the assistant DA. "What does this mean?" Heath asked.

Carter's father huffed out an irritated breath. "It means, Heath, that you're being handed a gift."

Upon hearing his words, Carter's mother made a face, as though she smelled something bad. "I can't believe we're to be subjected to this humiliation," she said, holding a handkerchief to her nose. "My poor boy--"

"Mum, please," Carter begged.

Mr. Barker turned spoke again to Ms. Mitchell. "In exchange for this, gift, as it was so astutely called by the elder Mr. Holmes, Carter has a favor to ask of Mr. Spencer."

Heath looked over at Carter.

A favor?

Almost as though she'd read his mind, Ms. Mitchell repeated, "A favor? This is highly unusual. What exactly are we talking about?"

Carter turned to Heath and took a deep breath, licking his lips before speaking.

"Heath," he began. "Listen, old man--"

Heath bristled at the use of the casual term of endearment. They simply weren't on those terms any more.

"You remember my cousin? Cyril? We used to make fun of him because he cried all the time? 'Soggy Cyril,' we used to call him, remember?"

"You called him that," Heath corrected. "I never did."

Carter sighed. "I knew you wouldn't make this easy for me--"

"Easy?" Heath repeated, barely hanging on to his last thread of control. He rose and banged his hand on the table, causing water to jump out of tumblers and papers to drift onto the floor. "Why in the name of heaven would I make anything easy for you? You raped my girlfriend!"

"Please," Carter tried to pacify, "I barely finger-fucked her--"

There were gasps all around the table as Heath sailed over it, sending water, documents and pens flying as he knocked Carter backward in his chair and landed on him, fists already flying.

MJ had been accurate in using "squishy" as her primary descriptor of Carter. He was woefully out of shape. Heath, on the other hand, made working out part of his daily routine, even when he was on tour, so he was sinewy and fit.

Plus, he was furious. He actually grayed-out briefly, losing all conscious thought, wanting only to pound Carter to oblivion.

Luckily, there were brawny security guards standing just outside ADA Mitchell's office, and they hauled Heath off of Carter within seconds. He could also hear MJ's voice, begging him to stop.

Carter's mother was on her knees next to Carter, who was moaning and spitting blood out of his mouth.

She turned to Heath, who was still being held back as as he lunged in Carter's direction.

"What's the matter with you, you uncultured little savage?" she cried. "Edward?" she called to her husband. "Edward, please, he needs medical attention, he needs a doctor immediately. Where's the nearest decent A&E in this revolting country?"

Carter's father was rather calmer than his wife. "He needs to find a toilet and clean himself up, Ruth, that's what he needs," he contradicted. "If he'd taken a few more beatings growing up, maybe he wouldn't have turned out to be the pathetic criminal and rapist he is today."

"Oh, Edward, you're useless," Ruth declared as she helped her son up. "I want that hoodlum brought up on charges," she stated, pointing at Heath, who'd finally been released by the guards.

"God, Ruth, shut up, for once in your life just shut up!" Edward said, handing his son his own handkerchief.

Ten minutes later saw the meeting reassembled in another conference room, very similar to the last. The only visible difference was that now Carter had a very fat lip, and a mouse under one eye.

"So, if we can try to keep vulgarities off the table, I think we're good to go," Ms. Mitchell said, looking at Carter.

Carter's mother stroked his head.

He tried to duck away from her hand.

"Does Carter still want to try to ask Heath whatever it was he was going to ask?" Ms. Mitchell asked.

"If he's willing to hear me out," Carter muttered through his injured mouth.

Heath spread his fingers. "You can try," he said.

MJ clasped his hands, and Heath felt like he was falling every time he looked at her eyes, like he was teetering on the edges of their brown depths.

"Like I was saying, it's about my cousin, Cyril," Carter began again. "We've never really gotten on, and his father, being my dad's younger brother, has always been a bit jealous of dad. You know, that dad always got so much attention and that?

"So now they're using my--my past, my academic history, my run-ins with the law--"

"It's just youthful high-spirits," his mother interrupted. "All boys do those things, it's such a ridiculous notion--"

"Mum, please, it hurts for me to talk, please just let me finish," Carter said.

"And now this mess," and he gestured vaguely at the papers on the conference table, even kind of including MJ in his gesture, which made Heath take a deep breath.

"Shh, Heath, please," MJ implored.

"They're suing to take away my family inheritance, Heath! They want Cyril to be made the official heir to the family titles or whatever--" Carter said, looking at his childhood friend at last. I'll lose all of it, the titles, the properties in France--I'll lose Penryn Hall, Heath," he finished.

Penryn Hall was the Holmes' country estate, just down the road a few miles from Tanglewood, where Carter had grown up, where Heath, Poppy and Archie had spent much of their childhood.

Heath looked up when Penryn Hall was mentioned, but now made a point of shrugging. "What do you want from me, then?" he asked.

"Since we're doing this nolo thing," Carter went on, his voice becoming tentative, "which is going to save your MJ here the pain and suffering of a trial, we were hoping, that is to say, I was hoping, that you could come back to England and testify on my behalf, maybe write a letter saying that all's been forgiven between us, and everything's fine?

"This is just an English country circuit judge, they're probably not even going to know about all this, you know?" Carter said encouragingly. "A few words from you would work wonders. You're famous, you're heir to the Tanglwood estate, you're listed in the Peerage yourself, right? So I was hoping--you could see your way clear--"

Heath looked at ADA Mitchell.

"Is he telling the truth? Will this nolo thing really help MJ?"

ADA Mitchell slowly nodded. "It will definitely spare her the pain of a trial, yes. All the awful publicity, the time--"

"No."

These words came from such an unexpected direction that for a moment no on was sure who'd spoken.

"Heath, don't do this."

All eyes turned to MJ.

"I mean, if you want to do it for you, because a trial will affect you, too, then of course, go for it, but don't do it for me, I won't have it."

She turned glittering, steely eyes on Carter.

"You don't get to come in here and start laying down terms. You do what we say. You time of being in control is over."

"Now, just a minute, young lady," Carter's mother interjected. "I think you need to know when to keep quiet. This is none of your concern, and it's very bad manners indeed not to know your place and to just speak out of turn--"

"Excuse me?" MJ now turned her look to Carter's mother. "Ruth, is it?"

"I'll thank you to call me Mrs. Holmes, if you don't mind--"

"Oh, but I do mind," MJ answered. "I don't think it really matters what I call you, because after today, I don't plan to ever speak to you again. But may I say that if you'd done a half way decent job of raising your son, then maybe none of us would be here right now, ever think of that?"

And MJ rose and turned to face ADA Mitchell. "I'm sorry to disrupt this meeting, but I can't be here and breathe the same air as these swamp people any more. I have to get out of here before I throw up all over the parents like I did the son."

And she turned and walked out of the conference room, before she started running toward the women's bathroom, her shoes making loud, echoing clicks on the marbled hallway.

She was running cold water in one of the sinks, splashing it on her fiery cheeks, when the door opened with a bang.

"MJ?"

She looked up to see Heath reflected in the mirror.

"Um, excuse me, but this is the Ladies' Room, mister," she said, turning to face him.

He quickly strode to her, sweeping her up in his arms and holding her tightly. "If you say one sodding word about being too heavy for me to lift, I'm going to drop you, bum first, into this sink full of water," he whispered into her ear.

She just nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, and by the way? You were absolutely magnificent," Heath whispered again. "And I love you. So much."