"Was he happy to see you?" Emily asked from the couch as she spotted Reese slipping back downstairs, followed closely by Tom.

Reese nodded and forced a smile. "Yeah, he was. He says wants me to stay for a bit."

"That's wonderful," Emily said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. Since you're planning on staying, at least for a few days, right? (She didn't wait for a response to continue), I really need a few days off. Of course, I haven't even considered it up until now, since he can't be all on his own, but now that you're here..." She was on her feet now, and looking pleadingly at Reese, her tea mug sitting on the coffee table, completely forgotten. "Just for a couple days. I'd like to drive down and see my sister, she's just had a new baby you know-"

And before Reese even heard herself do it, she was agreeing, and Emily left, after many thank-yous, to pack.

"So you're staying?" Tom asked, breaking the silence and startling Reese. He'd been so quiet, she'd almost forgotten he'd followed her down. "You'll be okay?"

She cleared her throat and stuffed her hands into her jean pockets. "Yeah, yeah of course. He's my dad, and this used to be my house. A few days is nothing anyway." She shifted her weight nervously, from one foot to the other. "It'll give us time to catch up."

"Oh, welI, guess I'll..." but he trailed off, and Reese suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry I made you fly me all the way down here! And now you'll have to fly right back, and it's such a waste of time-"

"Reese, I chose to bring you," Tom said, suddenly very stern. "And I don't regret it, not in the least. Please, don't put yourself out about it."

Reese sighed and nodded, backing up slowly toward the kitchen. She spoke as she walked. "I really appreciate it, Tom. Thank you."

Tom's consensus was that he would at least stay for dinner, which, as far as Reese was concerned, was take out pizza. "I'm not much of a chef," had been her response to Tom's inquiring laugh. He'd even offered to cook, but she declined.

"Done," she said, setting the phone down on the table triumphantly. "It should be here in about twenty minutes."

"Shouldn't your father be eating healthy? Isn't that the better choice for older people?" Tom asked.

"He's not that old," Reese shot back, flipping aimlessly through a magazine most likely left by Emily. "He just needs a little help taking care of himself."

"If you don't mind me asking, how sick is he?" Reese glanced up at him and cocked an eyebrow, and Tom chuckled, nervously running a hand over his chin. "No, sorry, that sounded insensitive. I just mean, he doesn't seem to be that old, so why, exactly does he need taking care of?"

Reese shook her head and turned a page in the magazine, not even taking the time to skim any of the articles. "He's always been sort of sickly, even when he was younger. He developed Alzheimer's years ago, which was one of the main reasons my mother left him, but he's also just very... fragile, to put it lightly."

"Wow," Tom said softly, "I'm really sorry."

"No, it's totally fine," she assured him. "I'm completely used to it. It's just usually my brother who comes down to deal with these things. He lives so much closer."

"Why... haven't you put him in a hospital?"

"He refuses to leave."

"How come?"

"Because," Reese snorted like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, "he's still hung up on my selfish mother, who left him, even before he got sick. He still loves her and he doesn't want to leave."

"That's kind of sweet," he mumbled, probably more to himself than anything.

They fell into silence, which Reese occupied by staring holes into her magazine, not even daring to glance up at Tom. It must've been a good five minutes before Emily broke it, stumbling in under the weight of a giant backpack.

"I'm off then Reese!" she announced, and Reese felt her shoulders sag a little.

"Have fun," she called weakly over her shoulder.

"Would you like a little help?" Tom offered, catching sight of the tiny woman, lost under her pile of luggage. A little surprised squeak from Emily was enough to pull him to his feet, and, with apparent ease, lift the backpack off of her. "I won't be a minute," he said at Reese, before leading the way out the door. Emily stood, staring after him for a moment, looking completely shell-shocked.

"Is that....?"

"Yes."

"Did he..."

"He came in with me."

"I..."

"Yeah, well."

Emily, more of a zombie now, stumbled after Tom, a stunned expression on her face. Reese immersed herself in an article about Taylor Swift's latest breakup until Tom returned, strolling back inside and sitting himself curtly down in front of her.

"She a fan?" Reese asked, not looking up.

"A bit."

"When she actually saw your face, she looked like she'd seen a ghost. Don't know how she didn't see you before."

"Well, she's nice girl," Tom said slowly, then, "but I don't think she should be leaving you here alone.

Now Reese looked up, confused. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, you haven't seen your father in ages, correct? And she just takes off the minute you arrive?"

"Tom, I agreed to it. I want to stay with him for a while, he needs me," she said.

"So I just imagined how uncomfortable you looked in there?"

"Well, no-"

"So you admit, it was a little rushed? Unexpected?"

"Yes, but Tom, I don't mind, really."

"Reese, you shouldn't be unhappy. You should be voluntarily spending time with your father. It doesn't seem right for you to be forced into it."

"Tom, please, I'm not being forced into anything. Just... I'm fine."

She gave him a hard stare, and he relented with a sigh, nodding and sitting back in his chair. "As long as you're being honest, Reese, because as long as I've known you, I know you're a very kind person, who has trouble saying no to someone else's request."

"Well, I guess I can't help it," she snapped, leaning back as well.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. Did you hear the kind part?"

"Just... I really have missed him."

"I know you have."

Reese was staring at Tom, her magazine long forgotten. His eyes were light pools, stuck somewhere between blue and green, and she considered asking the real color, then thought better of it. She traced his cheeks and jaw with her eyes, stopping short of his lips as she became aware he was watching her with an intensity to match.

A knock sounded on the door, and Reese tore away from their staring contest, her first thought that Emily had forgotten something before she remembered the pizza.

"I'll get it," she rushed, shoving back from the table and sauntering over to the door. Damn it, now she looked like an idiot!

A boy in his early twenties (possibly even younger) stood outside her door, buried behind a large pizza (they had spared no expense).

"Er, I have a delivery for a family size Hawaiian pizza?" he said, voice muffled behind all the cardboard. Before Reese could even open her mouth, Tom had appeared at her side to take it off the kid's hands so she could hand over the money. He gave her a toothy grin and a quick thanks, and she waved him off kindly, waiting until he'd ducked back into his Volvo and driven away to close the door.

"Jesus, why'd you order such a large pizza, Reese?" Tom groaned, tossing it flat on the table while Reese disappeared momentarily into the kitchen to grab plates.

"You never know!" she called. "Hey, would you mind bringing dad down? Tell him that dinner's ready?"

He must've heard her, because, by the time she'd returned, balancing three plates and two cups of soda (water for her dad) in her arms, Tom was helping him get settled on the far end of the table. She mouthed a quick thanks to Tom as she passed out the dishes, throwing two cheesy pieces on a plate for him, and two more for her dad. He just smiled and shook his head.

After getting her father to bed, Reese trekked back down the stairs, her legs aching, a throbbing soreness already beginning to form behind her eyes. She pushed into the kitchen to find Tom had already cleared the table and had carefully stacked the dishes in the sink.

"You're still here?" she asked, startled, and for some reason, slightly flattered.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He blinked, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder.

"Well... I would've thought you booked a hotel room or something."

Tom leaned down to turn on the faucet, smirking as he did so. "Oh, I did, but, you fed me, it's only reasonable I help you clean up."

Reese stomped over to him, snatched the towel, and bumped him to the side with her hip. She picked up the first greasy plate and held it under the water, tucking her hair behind her ears with wet hands so it stuck to her cheeks. "I can do it myself," she told Tom matter-of-factly. "You should go, get some rest. We're three hours ahead here, and you must be exhausted."

"I don't mind. I travel all the time."

She dried the first plate and set it to the side, then reached for a second. "There aren't even that many dishes. I can manage fine on my own."

Tom, pretending he hadn't heard her, pulled the dish towel off her neck and balled it up in his hands. "I'll dry," he said.

They worked in silence for a while, Reese scrubbing plates, and cups and handing them off to Tom to dry. He almost broke one, trying to put it away in the higher cupboards, but, for the most part, their system worked pretty well. Towards the end, Tom took over entirely and pushed Reese out of the way. She staggered half-heartedly over to the fridge and yanked the door open if nothing more than for something to do.

"You want a beer?" she asked, digging in the back and pulling two bottles out before he could even respond.

"That sounds great."

Reese twisted the cap off the first one and handed it off to him, then popped hers open and took a long, much-needed swig.

"Mh, that's good," she sighed, leaning back against the counter. Tom just nodded and lifted his beer to his lips. He didn't set it down next to him for a good ten seconds.

"So, you're not staying the night, are you?" Reese asked jokingly, turning sideways to look up at him. He was smiling, a tired look glazing his eyes over.

"Nah, I've booked a hotel room. I just thought I'd..."

"Help me clean up," she finished for him. He nodded again and took another sip from his bottle.

They sat, side-by-side for a few minutes, in complete silence, taking turns tipping their heads back until Reese's beer was completely empty. Tom finished his off quickly after, strode quietly over to the table, snatched his coat off its place on his chair, and turned back to Reese.

"I guess I'll be going now," was all he said, tucking it under one arm.

"Er, okay, have a good night."

Tom nodded, smiled, and slipped out of the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.