"She's going to be fine, Master Bruce," said Alfred as he entered Bruce's bedroom holding a tray that had a glass full of ginger ale and some crackers. Obviously the bacon and coffee had not been a very good idea. Camryn was still in the master bathroom, and it didn't sound like she was having a very good time. "Probably shouldn't have taken her out of bed. Or into that amount of light, for that matter."

"I didn't think it would be that serious," Bruce responded. He was leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed across his chest.

"It's all right, the doctor said she would be fine," Alfred reassured him. "It's most likely the pain killers making her sick." He walked over to the bed and put the tray down on the bedside table. "Just tell her to eat this if she can when she gets out of there." Bruce just nodded and Alfred excused himself from the room.

A few seconds after Alfred left, the retching coming from the bathroom stopped and toilet flushed. He could hear the sink running, and deciding that he had left her alone long enough he knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. There he saw Camryn leaning against the sink, spooning water into her mouth with her hands.

"I could have Alfred bring you a glass of water if you want," he told her.

"I'll be fine," Camryn responded as she washed her hands, still leaning against the sink for support. Bruce then put himself behind her and put his hands on her hips to steady her.

"You all done?" He asked. "Or should I have a bucket placed next to the bed?"

"I think as long as I don't eat anything I should be fine," Camryn responded.

"Well, Alfred brought you some ginger ale and crackers. It might be a good idea to eat those. It will settle your stomach."

"If you say so," Camryn responded. "Do you have an extra toothbrush anywhere?"

"Most likely," Bruce responded as he let go over, put down the toilet cover and had her sit on it as he looked through all the drawers and cabinets. Eventually he found one and got it ready for her. "Here." He helped her back up and handed her the toothbrush.

"Thank you for being so nice to me," Camryn said before she started brushing her teeth. Since it seemed like the bathroom counter was enough for her to lean on, he retreated towards the door, wanting to give her at least a little privacy.

"It's my pleasure," Bruce assured her as Camryn spit into the sink.

"Even though your friends think I'm a whore?" Camryn asked.

"Only one of them is my friend," Bruce answered. "The girl with brown hair. Rachel. I guess you already knew who she was."

"I know who most people are," Camryn responded before she put the toothbrush back into her mouth. She finished cleaning her mouth in silence, and once she was ready, Bruce stepped in, picked her up, and carried her towards his bed.

"You're very light," he remarked.

"Well, I have to be," she answered as he placed her in the bed. "Your arms are very strong." Bruce was about to say that they had to be, but he refrained. Instead he covered her up and handed her the glass of ginger ale.

"Here," he said. She took it and dutifully took a sip. "Eat some of the crackers, too."

"I'm going to get crumbs in your bed," she responded.

"It's not that big a deal," Bruce assured her. "You can sleep on that side in your crumbs. Or I'll just have Alfred change the sheets."

"You're going to actually let me sleep here?" Camryn asked. "While you're in the bed?" Once again her heart started being really quickly and she had to put down the glass of ginger ale.

"Would that bother you?" Bruce asked. "I could sleep somewhere else."

"I think you're just fucking with me," said Camryn. "You'd actually give up your bed for me?"

"You're my guest," Bruce answered as he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning against the pillows propped on the headboard. "And if we're being honest, I want you in my bed. You wouldn't be in here if I didn't."

"So you do think I'm a whore," Camryn stated as she raised an eyebrow, even though she was sure Bruce couldn't actually see her expression.

"Did I say that?" Bruce asked.

"Are you implying that-"

"I'm not implying anything," Bruce answered. "I don't think I left too much room for misinterpretation. I want you in my bed. Plain and simple."

"What do you want me in your bed for, though?" Camryn persisted.

"If you're really that uncomfortable, you can have your own room," Bruce said to her, hoping that she didn't say she wanted her own room. He liked having her around. There was something comforting about her, and of course she was rather beautiful.

"I don't want my own room," Camryn told him, "it's just that I'm trying to wrap my head around this."

"You shouldn't be trying to wrap your head around anything," Bruce said to her. "It's having a hard enough time as it is. Drink your soda, eat your crackers, and go to sleep."

"Are you going to stay here?"

"Do you want me to?" Bruce asked.

"Yes," Camryn answered.

"Then I'll stay," he answered. "Go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

"How long is a while?" Camryn asked as she laid her head down on the pillow, still facing Bruce. She had decided to forgo the soda and crackers and just go to sleep.

"It's hard to say for sure," Bruce answered, "but you're safe here, all right?"

-------------------------------------

Jean-Georges was one of those places where, as soon as you walked in, you immediately felt the need to stand up straighter and speak with perfect grammar. Being that it was the middle of the day, there weren't any customers inside. It was one of those places that only had to be open for dinner because everyone wanted to go there so badly.

Sidney was pretty sure it was the last place that she wanted to work. But, Harvey was convinced that he was doing her a favor and the owner was apparently very interested in having her there. It is, of course, preferred that the people serving the food at a restaurant like this are capable of being models.

Jean-Georges was a rather small man himself, with short dark hair and impossibly thick eyebrows. Harvey introduced him as the owner and the head chef of the restaurant, whose specialty was French cuisine. When he spoke, he had a slight French accent.

"I would love to have you working here, darling," he said to her as he took her hands in his own. "When can you start?"

"Uhmm," Sidney began, "I'm not trying to be a damper or anything, but I don't think fine dining is for me. I've never done it before, and this place seems like it might be a little out of my league."

"Nonsense," said Jean-Georges. "It is easy to learn, you look like you are a smart girl. You come in tonight and we will have someone show you the ropes."

Sidney raised an eyebrow at Harvey, who took it upon himself to answer for her. "She'll be here," he stated. "What time."

"We open at seven," said Jean-Georges, "so I would like her to be here by at least 6:30. White button-down shirt, black trousers, black shoes, hair pulled back. Nothing tight. Minimal make-up, not that you need it darling." He patted her on the shoulder and then turned on his heel and started walking away. "Excuse me, but I am having a problem with a shipment of fish that I was expecting today. I would love to stay here and chat with you, but I have to make sure this gets sorted out. I'll see you tonight, darling."

And then he disappeared into the back of the restaurant.

"I don't want to work here," Sidney said to Harvey as soon as the owner of the restaurant was safely out of earshot.

"Well, just try it out," Harvey suggested. "Come tonight. If you don't like it, you can quit."

"I'm not gonna like it, so I might as well just quit now," Sidney responded.

"Look, I think that I have been a very good sport," Harvey said to her. "You came here without warning, I let you stay in my apartment without hesitation even though my girlfriend is completely livid with me for doing it and despite her wishes to have me kick you out, I continue to let you live there. I know that you don't want to work here, but could at least come tonight so that I can tell Rachel that you are making an effort to get out so she stops being such a bitch? Can you do me this one favor? I don't think I'm being unreasonable."

Sidney was a little taken aback. Harvey had always been very indulgent of her. But she supposed that he did have a point, and most likely one night was not going to kill her. "Fine," she sighed, "but I don't own a white button down shirt, or black pants that aren't tight."

"We're going to have to go and buy these items for you, then," said Harvey. "I'll pay."

"Do you really want me to get out that badly?" Sidney asked. "Because if you don't want me around then-"

"I don't want you to leave, Sidney," said Harvey, "I'm just trying to find a compromise, all right? Rachel doesn't want you living in my apartment, so we have to show her that you're at least trying to move out of it. I don't care how long you stay for, but I do care that Rachel is angry with me at the moment."

"What is her major malfunction?" Sidney asked as she and Harvey got back into the car and Harvey told him to go to 5th Avenue. "It's not like I've made any blatant advances on you."

"She's just being a jealous girlfriend," Harvey responded, "and it definitely doesn't suit her at all. She's not usually like that."

"How long have you two been together?" She asked.

"About four months," he answered.

"It's because that phase where the only thing you two think about is pleasing each other is over," Sidney stated. "Her true colors are starting to come out. Better watch yourself."

"Shut up, you don't know anything about her," Harvey defended Rachel, though he couldn't help but think that there might have been some truth to what Sidney was saying.

"I think I've spent enough time around her to know that she's not really that great of a person," Sidney responded. "Not to mention, you're a lot more attractive than she is." Harvey just shook his head and decided that he was not even going to dignify that one with a response.

"Here is fine," Harvey said to the driver, who then stopped in order to let them out and told them that he would circle the block and try to find a place to park and that they should call him when they wanted him to come and pick them up.

"Armani?" Sidney asked as she looked up at the sign over the large doors.

"Why not?" Harvey asked as he led Sidney into the store.

"I'm probably never going to wear it again after tonight," Sidney reminded him. "There's not really a point on spending that much money on these clothes."

"A white button-down shirt and black trousers are supposedly things that everyone should have in their closet," Harvey said to her.

"I don't see a reason why I would need them," Sidney countered.

"Well, I need a few things, too," Harvey informed her, "so we might as well just kill two birds with one stone. It's not like I have time to drag you wherever you need to go."

"Don't lie," Sidney ordered, "and even if you didn't have time to drag me wherever I needed to go, you would make time for me. Besides, you said that you needed to come here, anyway. So it's really just you dragging me along to where you need to go."

Harvey merely shook his head. "Go and find what you need. I'm going to go look at the jackets." Sidney sighed and went off towards the women's part of the store. There were plenty of white shirts and black trousers to choose from, it's just that she wasn't really interested in wearing any of them. The only reason she wasn't completely disgusted with the whole situation was because she was not expected to pay for any of these articles of clothing. This was good, because when she looked at the price tags she almost threw up.

She tried on many, many combinations of black trousers and white button-down shirts. However, they all looked exactly the same to her – boring. She was just about to give up and tell Harvey that they could spend all day trying to find another job that didn't require her to looks like she had a stick shoved up her ass, when someone familiar came up behind her.

"Very professional," the voice said. Upon turning around, Sidney saw that it was Dr. Crane. "Though a far cry from what you were wearing earlier. This is rather boring in comparison."

"Tell me about it," Sidney agreed. "But Harvey 'did me a favor' and got me a job at Jean-Georges and I start tonight. This is the dress code."

"That's a very good restaurant," Jonathan stated. "And you start tonight? How exciting."

"Not really," Sidney responded.

"Well, I am actually having dinner there tonight with a few associates," Jonathan explained, "and if I get to see you, then it might not be as boring as I originally thought it was going to be."

"Oh really?" Sidney asked. "Well, if you're there then it might not be as awful as I originally thought it was going to be."

"Waitressing not for you?" He asked.

"That's not it," Sidney responded, "it's just that the restaurant is not for me. I'm used to a much more laid back sort of atmosphere."

"Understandable," said Jonathan, "working in a place like that can make one feel very pressured. Undoubtedly, perfection is expected."

"It's not that it would be hard," Sidney corrected, "it would be boring and tiresome. And all of the people who eat there, no offense, are probably stuck up snobs. I'd most likely end up slapping someone, and then I would be fired."

"I'm sure these stuck up snobs tip rather well," said Dr. Crane.

"It doesn't matter," Sidney answered. "I don't think it's worth dealing with them."

"Fair enough," said Jonathan. "Well, I hope to see you later on tonight."

"Me, too," Sidney responded, and was suddenly much less apprehensive about the night ahead.