After the final Fairy Tale script read-through, Mike was waiting for Bonnie to get her work in order before he drove them back to his place. Still "his place", not "their place", though occasionally everyone generically referred to it as "home" when referring to Bonnie. Everyone except her, of course. She still kept the apartment she'd gotten when she first arrived in L.A. nearly three years before. For a little over a year she'd been spending most of her nights and days at Mike's place. She was 'here', he often pointed out, in body only. 'There' in her apartment was the rest of her in the form of the books and "beads and spangles" and everything else about her that made it her place, not just a place. He'd promised her that she could do the same thing in the house on the hillside, make it her place as well as his, and theirs. He knew she believed him, he knew she wanted it because she told him she did. But she also told him "I need more time." He wasn't a fool; he knew she'd settled her doubts about him, and them, by the time they'd returned from visiting her friends in New York. It was something else, but he was damned if he knew what. So, it seemed, was she.

Unfortunately, this most private of struggles was known by everyone who knew him, even if they didn't know him well. Most were wise enough not to comment, even in jest. Others learned fast.

Micky had learned the hard way… his wiseass remark, "got the roommate situation down yet?" had very nearly earned him a punch in the mouth a few days before. Mike could have any chick he wanted with a wink or a nod, and there was a time that he had, every chance he'd gotten. But now that "having" had a little deeper meaning, and "chicks" had been replaced by a woman with a name, it was proving a lot harder to accomplish. Everyone on the set and in the studio knew about it, and even if they knew it wasn't all about his legendary ego, the irony was pretty grating. The people who did know him well 'got it', even Micky. Genie, too, had tried her best in a subtle way to encourage Bonnie in the direction of giving up her tiny flat to move into the place where she spent ninety-nine percent of her off time already. It wasn't logical, Genie advised, to spend money on rent when it was really just storage.

"It's not about logic," Bonnie had told her. "It's about… I don't know. I just can't, not yet."

And so it went. Mike had promised patience, but frustration was wearing it thin.

Peter hung back after the others left. "So, how's the relocation plot coming?" He wasn't overly concerned about triggering a dark response, because he knew that Mike had never shut him down with the same "fuck off, prying-ass who asked you?" that others would earn. Mike would sometimes tell him, "Leave it, man," but never "who asked you?" This time there was no "Leave it, man."

"Same as usual." Mike jammed his script in the back pocket of his jeans as they walked toward Bonnie's office. "I dunno Pete, every time I bring it up it just goes nowhere. She makes excuses, I get pissed off, and it starts racing toward ugly. I keep asking her why, and she keeps saying she doesn't know."

"You don't think she's just jiving you?"

"Nah, I can read her clear through. There's nuthin' behind that deer-in-the-headlights look but a deer in the headlights. What's gettin' to me isn't the what, it's the not knowing why. I mean she's not getting any closer to 'why' than she ever was. Crazy, right? All the 'why' in me that'd keep any sensible girl away, she got past all of it. Hell, she lives with me already, she just won't admit it. When it comes to us being together, I'm in the place most girls wait for a guy to get to, and she's the one who can't catch up. It's getting to feel like some sort of cosmic payback, y'know?"

Peter pulled Mike to a stop a short distance from Bonnie's office. "Well maybe it doesn't matter all that much, ever think of that? She's there with you, isn't she? You know she's in for sure. She's just no good at faking it off the clock, remember? If it looks and feels sure, then why not just accept it and let her get to where you are in her own time?" The way Mike shook his head, and the look in his eyes when he pulled off his shades, told Peter this was getting to his friend in ways he hadn't considered.

"I'm telling you Pete, every time Bonnie and me go around over this and get nowhere, 'sure' sounds closer to 'maybe'."

They stood there for a minute, both thinking hard, wanting to come up with something before Mike picked up Bonnie. Peter's sudden smile took Mike by surprise.

"Michael, my man, we are looking in the wrong place for answers. What we need, what Bonnie needs, is some outside-inside perspective."

First replying with a blank stare, Mike finally found his voice. "You've been smoking too much of that Mexican. Or not enough." When Peter grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back up the hallway and into an unused office Mike was too bewildered to resist.

Peter closed the door behind him and leaned against it, prepared for Mike not to take him seriously. "Look," Peter explained, "Bonnie spends all her time with you, or at work. Oh sometimes she goes out for a beer with Genie, but even then some of us usually catch up to them and it's all of us out together."

"What's wrong with that? We have a groovy time, right?"

"Right. We have a groovy time. And what do we talk about? Music, the show, all sorts of other stuff, but never what's inside."

"It's partying, not meditation. Now let's go, we gotta pick up some stuff at Bonnie's on the way back to my place." He stopped himself cold. "Well, shit. Okay, Pete, what's your outtasight plan to clean up this mess?"

"I think if Bonnie spent some time hanging out with friends who didn't have 'Raybert Productions' stamped on their foreheads she might be able to loosen up enough to talk to them about 'why'. Get it?"

"Hm. Not bad, but we both know she's not knee-deep in outside friends. Who is there she could hang out with, besides us?"

"Pam Saunders is coming back to do a bit on the Fairy Tale shoot for Sixteen. Bob wanted some PR before it aired and didn't want some fan-mag cutie spilling too much in advance, so Bob and Bonnie told Ann Moses it was Pam or nobody. Man, you know how tight she and Genie and Bonnie got in Paris, it was like alchemy. Transforming three very cool ladies into a Mighty Force, way more than the sum of their parts. Think about what they could do on their own, away from work?"

Now Mike stood up straighter from the desk where he'd been leaning. "And Lulu."

"Who?"

"Lulu, man, I told you about her! That little pixie lookin' girl who's like Bugs Bunny on speed and backed me up on banjo and Dobro at the New York gig. Goddamn good, too. Her and Bonnie go way back, and I'm telling you when you put 'em together they'd scare even Bob out of his mind. And she'd be great for session work. So…"

"How about you fly her out here? Get all the girls together, and get us an audition for some fresh session talent all at once?" Then Peter's smile turned down a little. "How good on banjo? Good enough for me to be watching out?"

Mike laughed, "Man if she is, don't bother watching out. You'll never see her comin'." He stopped laughing. "Hold on a minute, I get the 'outside' perspective, but what's the 'inside'?"

"Women, man, they speak the same language. They can get inside each other's heads without even trying."

"Oh, right, groovy. There's places in Bonnie's head I couldn't get to without a pick-axe."

Peter's face screwed up in a horrified frown.

"Sorry, got carried away there. I'll give it a shot, Pete," Mike promised as they parted company at Bonnie's office door. "Nuthin' to lose, anyway. I'll just try to work it into the usual nowhere-getting conversation before it gets to the yelling stage."

It didn't quite work out that way.