As Andy stood up to approach the surgeon, every ounce of attention in the waiting room pinpointed onto his back. His friends' muted conversations faded into silence. He dropped a hand onto Rusty's shoulder when the kid appeared at his side.

At getting a good, close-up look at the doctor's smile, Andy knew it was gonna be okay. The guy looked impossibly young to have been holding Sharon's hearts — old and new — in his hands, sure, but in this moment all that mattered was that his expression reached his eyes. There's no faking that. He had good news.

"I'm Doctor Onodera." As Andy shook his hand, the man continued, "I have to say, I wish every patient I saw in the OR was in as good health as your wife." He inclines his head, "Relatively speaking, of course."

As nice as the guy seemed, Andy wasn't in the mood for small talk. "So you're saying that Sharon's okay?"

The doctor's smile somehow widened. "I'm saying she's doing exceptionally well. Everything went as expected in the surgery. In fact, we were able to get the new heart placed and pumping more quickly than usual."

Andy let the breath he released carry his head and shoulders forward, sliding away the weight they'd been holding for weeks. This was it: the gate to their greener pastures. Sharon was gonna live. They would have their life together.

He straightened and clasped Onodera's hand again. "Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure, believe me." He rested his palm on Andy's elbow. "This is only the beginning of her recovery, of course, but I think she should be just fine."

Rusty leaned into the conversation. "Can we go see her?"

"It'll be several hours until Sharon comes around from the anesthesia and we can remove the ventilator. We'll want to hold off on most visitors until then, since she'll be in a sterile post-op room." He glanced to Andy. "Once we get her settled in there, I can have a nurse come get you, if you'd like to see her."

"Please."

Following another round of thanks, the doctor headed back into the depths of the hospital. Andy squeezed Rusty's shoulder as they traded relieved grins. "You wanna call your brother, let him know what's going on so he's not driving like a maniac to get down here?"

"Yeah, of course."

With the kid strolling into the hallway, poking at his phone, Andy turned to the group. Their hesitant, hopeful attention left his throat tightening. Swallowing past it, he held out his hands and said, "Sharon's out of surgery and doing great."

The news was met with a collective sigh of relief and several muttered Thank God s. He went on, "The doc said she's in great shape, so he was able to get the new heart in and working in no time."

Provenza piped up, "Well, we would expect nothing less."

"True." Andy rolled back through the doctor's points. "Uh, it'll be tomorrow, probably, before she's really 'with it' enough for visitors—"

"Don't worry about it, Andy," Mike said. "We came for moral support."

"Yeah," Julio added, in a darker tone, "that and we could've gone and found her another heart if this one hadn't worked out."

Andy chuckled, "I'm sure she would've appreciated that." He cleared his throat, going back to Mike's point. "But seriously, I'm grateful to all of you for coming, and I know Sharon will be, too, once I tell her about the turnout."

"It's the least we could do," Andrea said as she gathered her jacket. "Let her know that I'll stop by once she's ready for a distraction."

The others followed her lead, picking up their stuff and trading good-natured complaints about the inevitably short amount of time they had until the next murder rolled in. They left in a string of goodbyes to Rusty and Andy, until Provenza and Patrice were the only holdouts.

"When it comes to distractions, your wife isn't the only one who'll be in need." Provenza poked Andy's shoulder. "So you call me when you've had enough of this place."

Patrice reinforced the point with a firm stare. "Don't burn yourself out, Andy. Get home every once in a while."

"I'll be fine." It was a hedge of a response, but Andy had no intention of spending much time away from the hospital as long as Sharon was there. He just didn't have the energy to muster a believable lie.

Unswayed by Andy's answer, Patrice narrowed her eyes before pulling him into a hug and turning her efforts to Rusty. He seemed to be more receptive to her message, promising that he'd leave the hospital to sleep in his own bed that night.

True to Doctor Onodera's word, a nurse came into the waiting room a half-hour or so after everyone else cleared out. She guided Andy through a maze of nondescript hallways, to a sink where he scrubbed his hands pink under near-scalding water. She handed him a mask to slide onto his face, a cap for over his hair, and a gown for over his clothes. Then, finally, she led him to a wide doorway, where his own heart nearly stopped.

Given the number of machines in the room, stretching onto the bed, around and into the form lying prone there, it was almost impossible for Andy to tell that it was Sharon. Almost. The particular hue of her hair and the line of her profile told the truth. A steady in-out hiss filled the space, with beeps sounding in between. He told himself that this was part of the plan, that it all meant that she was on her way to being better.

Still, the view sat like a boulder on his chest. It was wrong, seeing Sharon like this, seemingly worse off than ever. The nurse murmured about the ventilator, the pain medication, the heavy effects of anesthesia. After a long silence, she gestured toward the door and said she'd be back around in a few minutes.

With his feet weighing like anvils, Andy tread into the room and close to the bed. Sharon looked tiny in the tangle of wires and tubes and gadgetry surrounding her. Her skin was a blunt shade of white under blueish lights. Her chest rose and fell in a too-perfect, mechanical rhythm.

He found her hands icy, so he cupped one, then the other, between his own as he settled into the chair at the head of the bed. He smoothed her hair where it had bunched up against the pillow. His voice came muffled from under the mask when he said, "Hey. Looks like all those Hail Marys did the trick."

It struck him as a surrender, talking at the room's volume. Shoving aside a moment of self-consciousness aimed toward the nurses camped out near the door, he cleared his throat and spoke to her like he would over breakfast on any other morning. "The doc said you were one of the best patients he's ever had. Can't say I'm surprised."

He cast his eyes around the half-dark space, open to the nurses' station outside. Had she been awake to see it, she would've hated the lack of privacy. "You're not gonna have to be in here very long, Sharon. As soon as you come around, they'll move you to a better room." He brought her hand to the mask covering his mouth, letting the gesture stand in for the lack of contact. "It's all downhill from here."

It was hard to tell how long he spent there, but when the nurse led Andy back to the waiting room, it was to find both of his stepsons standing near the door. He shook his head at Ricky. "How many laws did you break to get here so fast?"

Ricky smirked. "I'm not telling you anything, five-oh." After they exchanged a hug, he added, "Looks like I made it just in time."

Sharon would scold her son for putting himself and others at risk, no matter how noble his intentions. But Andy couldn't bring himself to even try. "You did." He clapped Ricky on the back. "She's out of surgery. I'm sure she'll be around in no time."

Of course, 'no time' is a relative term, and none of them were particularly patient in waiting for Sharon to wake up. Rusty paced the length of the waiting room countless times. Ricky used anything within arms' reach as fidget fodder. Andy, who'd hit the point of exhaustion hours before, closed his eyes to block out their movements and tried to get some sleep.

Some hours later, a different nurse came, calling out to where Andy dozed on two chairs arranged seat-to-seat. This guy was beaming. "Your wife's awake. We've moved her into her new room, if you want to check in with her."

From the next chairs over, Ricky and Rusty glanced at each other before bounding from their seats and out the doorway. In contrast, Andy was left practically creaking and dragging along behind them, still pulling himself into consciousness. The nurse pointed the guys toward the nearest elevator bank as he waited for Andy in the doorway.

"I'm Alonzo, one of the transplant nurses here," he said as the four of them waited for the elevator to arrive on their floor. "You'll be seeing a lot of me over the next few weeks." He chuckled. "Lucky you."

After the group stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, Alonzo explained the facilities, speaking loud enough for Rusty and Ricky to hear it from several steps ahead. "This is the surgical ICU. Rooms up here are doubles, so your visitation time is still limited. In a few days, once Sharon's condition is stable, we'll move her to the step-down unit, and you'll be able to visit as long as you want. They'll even be a couch in that suite, if you want to stay overnight."

"That's great," Andy said. After that morning, seeing Sharon out of the ICU was going to be a victory. The prospect of sleeping on something other than a weakly padded waiting room chair was just icing on the cake.

"But, for now," Alonzo continued, coming to stop in a doorway, "this is it."

Andy smirked as the guys had to backtrack from where they'd sped halfway down the hallway. Alonzo's finger wagged between the two of them, "You heard everything I told your father, right?"

"Uh—" Andy started an explanation, only to be cut off by Rusty.

"We're in the ICU, there's another person in there, we still have time limits for visiting," he recited while peering into the room.

"Don't worry, we got it." Ricky's eyes took on a familiar, mischievous glint just before his smile widened and he clapped Andy on the shoulder. "Right, Pops?"

Andy fought the urge to roll his eyes and focused on the nurse instead. "Thanks for filling us in, Alonzo."

"My pleasure," he said. "Let me know if you need anything."

Alonzo didn't get more than two steps away before Ricky and Rusty rushed into the room. Andy noted the number on the doorplate before following them in.

"Mom!" Ricky leaned over the bed, his long frame towering over Sharon. "Hey!"

"Ricky?" Her voice was heavy, fuzzy at the edges. "What are you doing here?"

"I got in the car as soon as Andy called." He let out a choked laugh. "Did you really think I'd miss being here to celebrate your brand new heart?"

Andy, with his mood lifted by the sight of Sharon awake and talking, couldn't help but add, "Well, it's not brand new. More like gently used."

His lame joke left her holding her hand out to him, and he was all too glad to take it. He claimed the unoccupied side of her bed, finding a perch on the mattress that avoided the wires trailing along the sheets. "Hey, beautiful."

There's a hint of a laugh on her next exhale. "Flatterer."

"No, really, Mom," Ricky said, with a heavy dose of earnestness, "you're looking great for someone who had her heart switched out this morning."

Rusty added, "Yeah, if I didn't know any better I'd say this was just another random hospital visit."

Sharon snorted gently, then groaned, bringing her free hand to her chest. "Hopefully I'll get to the point of actually feeling that way, too."

Running his thumb over her knuckles, Andy said, "You will. Soon."

At the foot of the bed, Rusty's phone chirped. He swiped at the screen and stared at it for a moment. "Ah, Emily's getting on a plane right now."

Ricky lifted his chin in his brother's direction. "She's flying into LAX?"

"Burbank."

"Nice," Ricky said, "should be easy to pick her up. I need to stop by the condo anyway. Uh," his eyes flit between Andy and Sharon, "assuming it's okay if I crash there."

Andy waves him off, "Of course."

" Someone might as well stay there," Sharon said, fixing Andy with a firm look that he met with a shrug.

Ricky took a smooth sidestep around that point of conflict. "Cool, because I'm feeling a little grungy and should probably borrow a shower."

Sharon hummed. "Why don't you do that now? Get some food and rest up before Emily gets here, then I'll see you all again tonight."

" Always on top of the situation," Rusty teased. He tapped his phone into his palm a few times, brows creased, before telling Ricky, "I think I'll head over there with you."

"Okay, Mom." Ricky leaned down to press a kiss to Sharon's cheek. "We'll see you later."

"Rest," Rusty commanded with a smile as he echoed Ricky's movements.

Sharon's eyes trailed around the room. "I don't think I have much of a choice, honey." A hint of defeat colored her voice.

After the guys disappeared down the hall, she let her head fall back against the pillow, angling herself toward Andy. Her voice went delicate as she struggled to keep her eyes open. "You know, I was gonna tell you.."

"Tell me what?"

"That I love you."

He smiled, pressed his lips to the back of her hand, mindful of the IV inserted there. "You did, babe. You did. Don't worry."

"No." The corner of her mouth tipped upward. "Not now. Before."

"Before when?"

"Your neck." She reached over to brush the faint scar he carries, a reminder of the blood clot that could have ended all of this years ago.

The confession nearly stole his breath away. The only response he could manage was, "Oh."

That, Andy hadn't known. With the deliberate pace of their relationship, he always figured that Sharon had trailed well behind his own realizations: that he couldn't imagine his life without her, that her smile was the best part of his days, that he wanted to hold her hand for the rest of his life. That he loved her.

And that was okay. He'd been willing to wait her out, as long as it took. Sharon was worth it. But, apparently, she'd been right there with him.

She sighed, "I was so afraid, for you." Rolling her head back and forth on the pillow, she says, "Afraid I'd never see you again. But I couldn't say it." Her brow creased. "I don't know why."

"I get it." He ran his thumb along her knuckles. "I wanted to tell you the same thing, that day."

Her smile returned, even as her eyelids slipped closed. "Mhmm. We make quite the pair."

"Yeah, we do." She was fading fast, pulled under the effect of whatever medications flowed into her veins. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and made the point he'd been kicking around all day. "I know it's been hard, Sharon. But I'm just...so proud of you for going through with this."

She hums out a slow laugh. "Because of you." Her next exhale was a happy sigh. "You're the best husband."

With the squabbles they'd had over the previous weeks, the tears, the stretches of silent tension fed by the conflict between his concerns and her desires, there were times he'd felt old worries creeping in, that he was gonna screw it all up, that he would push her too far and end up ruining their marriage like he'd ruined his first one. But it hadn't happened. She'd stuck with him, even when she was annoyed enough to find ways to avoid him within their cozy home.

They'd made it through.

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Only because you're the best wife."

As her breathing started to even out, he drew her rosary from his pocket. He curled it into her palm, back where it belonged, before settling into the beside chair. He stayed there, basking in the steady rise and fall of her chest, until a nurse beckoned him back toward the waiting room.

—

Andy manages to avoid The Conversation until he's changed out of his work clothes, set the table, and is halfway through dinner. But once they've exhausted idle chit-chat over their plans to catch a few spring training games in Phoenix, he catches Sharon assessing him over a long sip of water. She places the glass back onto the table in an extra delicate motion, even as she angles her shoulders toward him. "So, really. How was it?"

"You wanna know the truth?"

Her head dips as she says, "Of course."

"Not good." Not wanting to jump right into a rant about the asshole sitting in her old office, Andy leads with the more personal aspect, the thing that'd been jabbing at him since Williams first suggested his uselessness this afternoon. "I didn't know that you'd been…" he shakes his head, not quite sure how to put it. "That you'd been protecting me."

"What do you mean?"

"Keeping me on the squad, after my heart attack."

"Mmm, protection?" Sharon cuts her eyes away from him, her lips tilting into a half-smile. "I didn't see it like that."

"No?"

"No. I needed you there."

Andy sighs. That's just another way for her to say she shielded his ass, as far as he's concerned. It's a confirmation of a years-old fear, that he'd been kept on in Major Crimes after his blood clot situation, and, later, his heart attack, thanks only to the solid force of her will.

He was fine with Sharon being the boss. In fact, as today showed, he preferred it. That's the context under which he got to know her, became friends with her, and eventually fell in love with her, after all. Their marriage is built upon that experience. But he hates the idea of her having spent her hard-earned political capital to keep him in his job, if anyone else in her position would've kicked him to the curb.

As if reading his mind, she adds, "It had nothing to do with our relationship, either."

Andy can't quite strip his doubt from his voice as he says, "Really."

"That would've been completely inappropriate!" Her voice rises as she gets to the end of her point.

"Okay," he sighs, spearing a piece of fish onto his fork.

Sharon leans toward him, bringing her elbow to rest on the table, her palm supporting her chin. That's to say, she settles into her point: "Who else could get a wiretap warrant written up, in front of a judge, and approved in a matter of two hours? Who else could I send into an interview with Julio to get the toughest subjects talking?" When his only reaction is to glumly chew a mouthful of salad, she nudges his hand where it rests on the placemat. "Who else could I trust to reliably charm the clerks into giving us the best slots at the courthouse?"

"I guess."

"Besides, as our cases became more complex, it was obvious I needed another hand back at home base." Her posture straightens as she reaches for her water. "And when you were on light duty, I articulated that need to Chief Taylor. And Chief Howard." Her smile turns sly. "And Chief Mason."

He drops his head back, staring at the ceiling as he imagines those conversations. "Oh my God."

"Andy," she chides. "You deserved to stay. I don't know what else to tell you."

"Right." He exhales, dropping his attention back to his dinner. He aims to bring the conversation to its end with a mumbled, "Thank you."

Sharon relaxes into her chair. "So, the new captain…" At his raised brow, she continues, "Who is he?"

"Neil Williams." Andy swipes his last crust of bread through the remains of vinaigrette on his plate and pops it into his mouth, talking around it as he asks, "You know him?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well," he stacks her empty plate on top of his own, "I think he might be a little out of his league."

"You're judging him based on his first day ?"

Williams' words, I am not your wife , sneak into Andy's head as he carries the dishes to the sink. "He earned it. Believe me."

Ignoring the hint that he would handle clean up on his own, Sharon trails him into the kitchen and sets to digging out a pair of containers for the leftovers. "So you caught a case, then?"

"Oh. Yeah, we did." With all of the personal bullshit going on, he'd nearly forgotten their actual work , the circumstances under which Williams had shown his complete lack of human decency. As he loads the dishwasher, Andy lays out the basics of what they know so far. He leaves out the botched responses from the brass and glosses over his visit to the hospital, but otherwise covers the facts of the case.

"Sounds like an interesting one." Sharon hands him the serving spoons and skillet. Her voice goes mischievous, "So why do you think the Captain is in over his head?"

"He just doesn't seem...suited." Andy grits as he pictures Williams' ruddy face glaring up at him. "You sure you've never heard of this guy?"

She frowns. "What's his name again?"

"Neil Williams."

"No, the name isn't familiar. Why?"

"Ah," He rubs at his neck, having steered himself right into a dead end, as far as his plan to not tell her what's going on. As a last-ditch effort, he flips into reverse. "Nothing. Never mind."

Sharon looks up from sealing one of the containers, watching him over the frames of her glasses. She pushes the leftovers toward him across the counter and nods toward the fridge. He's barely turned around before she asks, "What did he do?"

He sighs into the refrigerator. "What do you mean?"

"I mean , you were itching to get back to work. Now you're in a terrible mood while there's a halfway decent case going on, and you're asking me if I know your new CO. So you must think he's done something."

Andy closes the fridge to find Sharon standing cross-armed and unamused. She adds, "I haven't lost my mind, you know."

"I know." He settles his back against the cool steel as he rubs his palms over his face a few times. There's no getting around it, now. He starts with the basics. "Williams was a patrol captain, before this. Down in Harbor."

Her eyes narrow. "Okay…"

"I guess he hasn't even taken the detectives' course."

"That isn't a requirement for leading an investigative division."

"I know, but it seems strange, don't you think?" He holds his palm out, emphasizing his point. "Given the specific reason that Major Crimes exists?"

Sharon offers him a subdued nod. "Okay, yes. I'd agree that it's an odd choice."

"So he's shown up, out of nowhere, and he has the most…asshole attitude I've ever seen on a CO." When she rolls her lips together and drops her eyes, he gets the message loud and clear. "Yeah, I know , I don't have much room to talk. But believe me, the guy is a next-level bastard."

"I wasn't going to say you don't have room to talk, for what it's worth. I was going to point out that you're not always the most welcoming when someone new shows up."

"I'm willing to admit this." He holds his hands up for a beat, then stuffs them into his pockets as he says, "Even so, this guy isn't okay."

Sharon draws closer toward him, her brows furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Because, on top of the way he's treated all of us so far," he shakes his head, "Amy said that he had a reputation, back at Harbor, for harassing his female officers."

A shadow crosses her face. "According to whom?"

"According to her friends who work down there." Andy frowns, considering a point he'd been kicking around since lunch. "I think they warned her about him."

"Then I don't understand how he could've gotten the job."

"Maybe there aren't any official reports." He shrugs. "I mean, you don't know his name."

"That wasn't really my area, Andy."

"Fair enough." That wasn't worth arguing over. None of it was. "But I'd say, even if there are reports, Williams has friends in high places."

Sharon searches his face. "You believe that he did it, though. That's what you're saying."

"After the show he put on today? Absolutely."

With a sly half-smile, she holds her hand out to him. When he takes it, she guides him into the living room and onto the couch. He finds a grin curling his own mouth as she takes a moment to settle into the cushions just so . Finally, she rests their entwined hands on her knee and says, "Okay. Tell me everything."

Even with the gentle delivery, the words form what's known in this household as 'an order.' So Andy spills, going so far as to sketch out a vague picture of Williams' annoyance with Sharon herself, after he's covered all of the yelling and cursing and the Captain's questionable approach toward Amy.

He finishes with, "And as for me...Williams doesn't want me there."

"What do you mean?"

"He tried to send me out into the field twice, then basically called me useless when I told him I couldn't."

Andy doesn't miss the flash of anger in her eyes. "He said that?"

"I mean, I think his exact words were along the lines of 'lazy' and 'incompetent,' with the bonus of him explaining how he could have detectives lined up to kiss his boots in exchange for my job." He forces a chuckle. "So I might be joining you in retirement sooner than we expected."

"Oh," Sharon groans, wrapping her arm across his chest. She presses a kiss to his neck before resting her head on his shoulder. "That's what all that 'protection' talk was about."

He brushes his lips to her hairline. "It's okay. I've had worse." And he has. Maybe he hasn't had a boss throwing barbs that poke at his deepest professional fears, but he has had worse. At least Williams hasn't thrown him under the bus on a murder case.

Yet.

"I wish I could help." Her voice is muffled against his sweatshirt.

"I know, babe. That's why I didn't want to tell you."

She stiffens. "Uh-uh." Sharon pulls back to look at him. Her stare has sharpened again. "I don't want you holding back about work. Or anything else, really. But definitely not work."

"I just didn't want you feeling guilty."

"I'd rather feel guilty than be left wondering why you're upset." She runs her fingers through the hair at his temple. "I don't care how awful this Williams is. He's just temporary, Andy. We're forever."

That truth leaves him smiling. "Yeah, we are." He dips his mouth to hers, into a kiss that she deepens almost immediately, her lips parting below his. It's his turn to groan as he pulls back just enough to say, "How many more weeks of sternum healing do you have ahead of you?"

"Mm, four."

" Four weeks ," he repeats, brushing her lips again. "That's a lot of days."

It isn't like sex is the end-all-be-all of their relationship, but Andy misses the intimacy, the moments where his focus narrows only to her , not her heart or the worries they share. There's no substitute for the distraction and release it brings. And given her approach as of late, Sharon misses it, too.

"Maybe we can come up with a…" Her words fade into a sigh as his mouth finds the hollow behind her earlobe.

He mumbles, "A what?"

"A workaround," she sighs.

He's only started rifling through those possibilities when the deadbolt in the front door clicks open. They disentangle as smoothly as teenagers caught under the bleachers at a football game. With a respectable amount of space between them, Andy can't help but toss out a parting shot as the door opens. "I do like workarounds."

Sharon rolls her eyes as Rusty steps into the condo, his arm curling a stack of folders against his chest as he locks the door behind him. "Hey," he says, settling his load onto the desk. "Sorry I missed dinner. We're slammed with trial prep right now."

"Not a problem," Sharon says. "There's leftovers in the fridge, if you're hungry."

"Ah, Andrea actually treated us to dinner since we were working so late."

"That was nice of her."

"Yeah, well, I think I might actually be overdosing on hamburgers."

Andy lifts a brow. " What? "

"I know, I know," Rusty chuckles. "I almost can't believe it myself."

"Well, you can always try packing some food to take with you," Sharon calls as he disappears around the corner and into the kitchen.

"That takes, like, way more brainspace than I have right now, Mom."

"Brainspace?" She scoffs. "It takes brainspace to pull a container out of the refrigerator and stick it in your bag?"

"Yeah," he reappears with a Coke. "It does."

"I never quite figured out that skill either." Andy nods at the kid. "Did you get what you needed from Buzz and Provenza today?"

"I did, yeah. Buzz even put all the footage onto a DVD for the courtroom."

"Oh, you went up to the office?" Sharon's voice goes deceptively light. "So what did you think of the new captain?"

"Uh…" Rusty looks at Andy, no doubt hoping for a hint on how to answer. Andy just gives him a shrug, tell her whatever you want, kid, which leads to him saying, "Well, he's kind of a huge jerk, actually."

Andy nods. "Understatement of the year."

"Keep in mind that this was his first day." Sharon offers the Captain a half-hearted defense that seems to exist more for Rusty's sake than anyone else's. "No one is at their best on their first day in a new situation." She softens her point with a little hair flip and an added, "Not even me."

"Yeah, I remember," Andy mutters.

This earns him a throw pillow to the face. He recovers from the impact in time to catch Sharon wincing from the motion, bringing her palm to her chest. But it quickly becomes a half-stern, half-amused stare. She points at him. "You weren't exactly helping, back then."

"I didn't do anything!"

"Oh, yes you did."

"Oh my God," Rusty sighs, rolling his eyes as he heads toward his room. Even so, he can't hide the smile in his voice when he says, "Let me know when you're done bickering."

Andy raises an eyebrow at Sharon, crooking his thumb toward his retreating form. "Mister Serious Lawyer, over here."

She pokes at his leg with her toes, a silent order to let it go. He takes the opportunity to capture her foot, kneading his thumbs into the sole. Following an appreciative hum, she says, "You want to know what I think you should do about work?"

"Of course."

"I think," she draws the words into a tempting lilt, "you should stay. If Williams wants to get rid of you, then you make him to do it."

"And in the meantime, you expect he'll just...get over it?"

"No," she says, in that troublemaking way of hers, "I think you'll prove yourself to be indispensable."