I was hoping to wait to write this until they're dating/together, but the press release for the next episode says that Florence and Sly grow closer, and I don't know exactly what that means, but it does mean that anything could come up, so I wanted to get this out now in case anything about Megan does and makes this canon divergent.

ALSO I am a bit behind reading a few of y'all's latest chapters. I've kinda fallen into a depressive episode (dealing with regular depression AND seasonal depression is a ride I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy) and writing can help when I have the energy, but I don't have the focus that I like to have for reading. And I don't want to half ass my experiences of reading all the wonderful fic.

"Tell me about your wife."

Sylvester isn't expecting the question. She's been helping him on something for his reelection campaign – a much less demanding assistant than his official one – and they're not really discussing their personal lives, just a few comments here and there and neither has pushed for more details. Until now. Now she's asked for more.

"My wife."

Florence looks equal parts confused and amused. "Yeah. Tell me about her."

He wonders why she's asking. He's not suspicious, no, but the reason for her inquiry could be one of many things. He's sure she likes him back; is she asking about Megan to see if he was ready to move on? Is she looking for an idea of what he was like as half of something? Is she going to compare herself to the first woman he had feelings for…was she doing that already, even knowing almost nothing at all?

Or is she asking because that's what friends do, and despite the rocky start Florence had had with Sylvester and his colleagues, somewhere along the way she had become a friend to them all?

He supposes he should answer as he would if Patty asked, or if Allie did, or…he shook his head. No. He doesn't answer Patty in the way he'd answer anyone else, about anything. He's probably more afraid of her than of Happy at this point.

"Okay," Florence said, looking annoyed with a little bit of hurt.

Sylvester realizes that she's interpreted his head shake as a denial. "No, I wasn't…" he cleared his throat. "Well, Megan was Walter's sister. That's how we met, although he didn't introduce her to any of us for a long time. Back then he was still afraid of feeling, and to let us in on the one person in his life he had ever truly felt things for, that would make him seem weak. It would rock the foundation he'd built for himself. So we knew about her, but we didn't meet her for a long time."

"What changed?"

"Paige showed up," Sylvester says, realizing he came off as matter of fact but it really was that simple. "And she destroyed that mental foundation Walter had spent years building up, she destroyed it in a matter of days, and he ultimately gave in to her – Megan, that is – wanting to meet us." He smiles, remembering the first day they spent together. "The predominant thought in my head that day was wow, she's amazing."

Florence tips her head to the side, leaning back and placing her hands on the edge of the table. "Was she a lot like Walter? Or like you?"

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. "What do you mean by that? Walter and I are a lot alike."

She shakes her head. "I don't think so. Walter seems driven by his intellect. You gotta be able to coax feeling out of him. You're both smart, sure, but your heart comes through a lot easier."

Sylvester feels his heart pick up the pace as her words mirror what she told Paige on Valentine's Day. "You – you think so?"

Florence nods. Sylvester remembers her question. "By those standards, she was a lot like me." He wonders if what he sees in the instant before she drops her eyes is wistfulness. "She was all heart. Not that…she wasn't naïve or ignorant. But love radiated from her. I know it's not possible, but she seemed to literally brighten up any room she was in." He smiles. "Walter may be gifted, but Megan…she was a gift."

Florence smiles. It's a small smile. He's not sure what she's thinking. "Do you…want to know anything in particular about her?"

She shrugs. "I mean, not particularly. Just she was clearly important to you. And I don't know. I guess I wonder what connects people like that."

"I think for her, I was the only one who saw her as more than her multiple sclerosis. She was surrounded by nurses every day, and doctors, and medical students. And Walter was her only other regular visitor but he was consumed by her illness. He was desperate to find a cure and save her. She appreciated his efforts, but she wanted to live while she was alive. She loved every second she spent with Walter but wanted to talk to someone who didn't constantly remind her that she was sick. That's what started it, for her."

Florence looks him intently. "And for you?"

"For me…I used to be a lot worse. About germs, about situations." She tries to hide a grin, and Sylvester can't help one of his own. "I know, hard to believe, huh?"

"Little bit."

He chuckles along with her. "I used to choke on jobs. Badly. I made a mistake one Christmas and then I panicked and shut down and a ten – year – old boy almost died because of it. Megan really let me have it that day. She was genuinely angry with me, but she didn't let that cloud anything. Somehow she got my head back in it. She had a way about her, you know?" He can tell by her slight change of expression that Florence really didn't know. But she seems to want to know. Maybe. Maybe? "I told Walter once that she calmed me. That was the truth. But she didn't calm me by taking care of me. She calmed me by helping me learn to take care of myself. I know she didn't spend our entire relationship teaching me to be okay without her. But that's what happened anyway. And even now, I carry her with me every day. I've come to find it fitting that our wedding bands were band-aids. Because band-aids aren't magic and don't fix things, but they help a person improve themselves. And we both did that. I helped her live while she was alive, and she helped me live once she wasn't."

"You loved her a lot, huh."

"Yeah. I still do. I always will." He wonders if he's made the chemsit think he could never find anyone else interesting ever again. He had a big heart. There was room for someone new without even needing to shuffle Megan's spot aside.

"She sounds pretty amazing." Florence nods. "I think I would have liked her."

Sylvester blinks in surprise. "Wait, really?"

"Of course. It sounds like she really helped you become who you are. And you're pretty gr…" she coughs and clears her throat, "you're a good guy. You're my friend. And she's a part of that, so logically I'd like her, too."

Sylvester stares at her. "Huh."

She furrows her brow. "What?"

"N…nothing."

A crooked smile comes over her face, as if she's amused again, and he wonders if he's imagining the tinge of pink on her cheeks. "Ookay, then, Sylvester."

She breaks his gaze, turns back to what she's doing. The smile is still on her face. Sylvester knows he needs to get back to work as well, but he lingers, because the thought going through his mind is one he hasn't had in several years.

She's amazing.