Things were tense between Tom and Jimmy when Stevie came into the studio next. She heard yelling immediately as she came to the door, and opened it just a crack. Both Tom and Jimmy were throwing equipment and she thought for sure there would be a brawl. The rest of the Heartbreakers sat either slightly amused, or trying to tune it out completely until Jimmy tried to take a swing at Tom and Mike pulled his friend back. Stevie's eyes widened.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Stevie!" Jimmy said, backing down. Mike let go of Tom and he straightened his clothes. Jimmy tried to shove past the tall blonde man to get to Stevie but Tom persevered, getting to her first.

"I'm sorry, I...I didn't know you were coming in today." Tom kissed her cheek.

"I wasn't planning on it but I just felt like I should be here. I'm kind of glad I was."

"Why, because you think Jimmy and I would kill each other?"

"That's one reason. Hopefully I can be a good enough mediator that no harm comes to either of you." He kissed her again and stroked her shoulder.

"Are you alright? You seem pale."

"I'm either coming down with something or just getting over something little."

"You take your time today. Either way, I don't want you to feel bad."

"Thanks Tom but we really need to get working on this. I'm prepared to stay all day."

"I'm sure knucklehead is too." Tom yanked his head toward Jimmy and she felt physically ill over having to watch the two of them so closely. She clutched her stomach and Tom's eyes scanned over her features. "Are you sure you're alright? I don't think you should be staying all day if you feel so bad."

"Don't worry about me."

"Too bad, Stevie. I do worry about you. I noticed the other day you didn't look so good either."

"Gee, thanks." She started to walk away and he pulled her back.

"Shush, you know I didn't mean it that way. When we break for lunch, I'll run by the drugstore and grab you something."

"I appreciate it but really, whatever it is will go away just as quickly as it came. Nothing keeps me down for long."

"That's for sure." He nudged her, a mischievously look present in those piercing eyes of his and she giggled.

"Stop it. Now, let's work."

Stevie sat down on her stool, her hands clasped in her lap. She felt a little out of it, if she were honest. More tired than usual, even with a full night's rest. Tom sat opposite her, and Jimmy sat almost as far away as the walls would allow. "Can we do a live take real quick? I wanna make sure this track is tight."

"Sure." Tom said with a nod, grabbing his guitar. The guys all huddled around sans Benmont and Tom counted them off. He began to play and Stevie waited for her cue. Tom nodded and he began to sing but Stevie didn't sing a note. "Stevie." He stopped, getting her attention.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just...uh, spaced out."

"That's alright. Try again?"

"Yeah." Stevie nodded, her wild blonde curls falling her face. She tucked a particularly rogue tendril behind her ear and let him start them off again.

"One, two, a-one, two, three, four... you got a dangerous background..." he sang and once again Stevie missed her cue.

"Stevie, what the hell is going on up there?" Jimmy barked.

"I'm sorry." A single tear rolled down her cheek and Tom got up, pressing her forehead to his chest lovingly. Jimmy stood up, fist clenched.

"I knew you didn't feel good, just by looking at you. You should go home."

"No, no, I can't do that, Tommy. I will do better. I promise."

Tom sat down and looked to Stevie. "Ready, babe?" She nodded and he began for the third time.

"You got a dangerous background..." they sang together when suddenly, Stevie leapt off her stool and crashed through the door.

"Oh come on, what the fuck was that?!" Jimmy shouted. "Stevie!" Tom looked at Jimmy and Jimmy shook his head. "I'm not dealing with this shit."

"Fine." Tom put his guitar down and went after Stevie. He didn't have to go far to find her hanging her head over a small trash bin in the hall.

"Fuck" she whined, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. She heaved again and Tom dove onto his knees beside her, holding her hair back. Her arms went over her head, resting on the edge of the receptacle. She spit, feeling even worse than before. She shook her head and she began to cry.

"Let me take you home."

"No." she whimpered. "What about the song?"

"Fuck the song, Stevie. You clearly feel like shit." She sat back, wiping her tears. "Let me grab you some paper towels or tissues or something." He left, but returned quickly, a wad of white paper towels in one hand and a box tissues in the other. She chuckled, seeing the trouble he went through.

"Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." He handed her a paper towel and she wiped her mouth and the saliva that slid down her chin. As she went to grab another paper towel to wipe her cheeks he pushed it away and carefully dabbed her tears away with a tissue. "That paper towel is too rough for your pretty, delicate face."

"There is nothing pretty about me right now."

"That's not true. You are beautiful, Stevie, even after I watched you lose a week of lunches." She chuckled again, tears still falling down her cheeks. "Now will you please, please, honey let me take you home?" She looked down into her lap, picking at her nail polish. "I promise I will leave you alone if you want or hell, I don't get sick that easy. We can lay on the couch together or up in bed and watch old movies."

"You'd really do that?" she asked and he smiled, nodding.

"I'd do anything for you. This is nothing." Tom stood first then helped her off the floor. "So what do you say?"

"Okay." Stevie agreed. Even under these circumstances, Tom was delighted to take care of her because he knew he would get to be close to her and help her when she needed it most.