Somewhere around midnight, Dale heard the sound of the door opening. He hadn't been able to sleep; thoughts of the past had been haunting him all evening. He pushed himself up on one arm to greet his best friend with some questions about the case. All of his questions dissolved as his stomach churned at the sight of Chip—he was a wreck. "Hey," Dale finally said in a low, barely audible voice.

Chip didn't respond; he merely sat heavily on the bottom bunk. "Why?" he whispered, his voice unnatural.

Dale furrowed his brow. "Huh?" He felt the bunks sway as Chip shifted on his bed. Dale debated sticking his head over the bunk to actually see his friend as they talked, but something in Chip's tone told him that he didn't really want to be face to face at the moment.

"I trusted you."

Dale's blood ran cold. "Wh-what?"

"You were my friend."

"Chip, I—"

"What were you thinking?" Chip pulled himself up and began to slowly pace. "I mean, I know you were in love with her too." He stopped and slapped his forehead. "How could I be so stupid?"

Dale just remained frozen on his bed. Chip knew. This was bad . . . very bad. How did he find out? Of course—Gadget. His mind was racing and he felt as though his heart would jump out of his chest. At this point, was there anything that he could say? "I—I'm sorry," was all he could whimper.

Chip gave a short, derisive laugh in reply. "Right."

"So . . . Gadget told you?"

The color drained from under Chip's fur. "No—Clarice finally told me the truth . . . Gadget knows?" he whispered in horror. "This is just great. Now she knows that I'm a colossal fool who was not only betrayed by the woman I loved but by my best friend as well." He threw his fedora on the floor in despair and walked out.

Dale stared after Chip, his heart still pounding. Everything had just come crashing down, and he had no clue as to how he could fix this—or if it even could be fixed. Shaking, he lay back down on his bed, hoping and praying that not all was lost. Maybe, somehow, he could think of the right thing to say . . . . A solitary tear ran down his cheek as he thought about the pain he had caused his oldest friend.

Chip withdrew into the room with the piano once again. The room was now empty, leaving him alone with the instrument and his thoughts. He sat on the hard bench, his head held in his hands. "I'm such an idiot," he mumbled into his hands. He pressed hard on his eyes to keep his tears from falling. A hand on his shoulder finally caused him to look up. "Monty?"

Monterey Jack stood over the chipmunk, concern in his green eyes. "Gadget told me I'd probably find ya here. I figured ya might need a mate to talk to right about now."

Chip sighed deeply, swallowing his tears. "Thanks, Monty. But I know it's late, and—"

Monty shook his head firmly. "No 'buts,' lad." He leaned against the wall and gave Chip a lopsided smile. "Ol' Monty's had his share of run-ins with the female of the species. And before ya ask, Gadget told me and Zipper everything."

Chip dropped his head with a groan. "So I guess everyone knows that I'm a trusting moron."

Monty's expression became stern. "Look, Chippah. I'm sure ya remember Desiree. We both know that women are more complicated that they look." He softened. "Come on, pally—ya need to talk to someone."

Chip rubbed his forehead, trying to work some of the painful tension from it. Taking a ragged breath, he began to tell Monterey the origins of the fateful love triangle.

Dale sat up quickly as he heard his door open again. He tentatively leaned over the rail of his bunk to see Gadget poking her head into the room, her expression a little timid. "Um, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Dale nodded, then climbed down. He motioned for Gadget to take the chair from the bureau as he sat on Chip's bed. He sat stiffly, solemnly, waiting for her to start. At this point, he couldn't even form a greeting for the lovely mouse.

Gadget took the initiative. "So, you know that Chip knows, huh?"

Dale bit his lip. "I really never thought he'd find out." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Gadget—I thought you told him."

Gadget smiled sympathetically. "It's ok." She cleared her throat, obviously ill at ease. "Actually, I talked to Clarice tonight. That's why she went and talked to Chip."

"What did you say?" Dale's curiosity was piqued; he didn't know why he felt he needed to hear what Gadget and Clarice discussed, but he knew his mind wouldn't let him rest if she didn't tell him.

Gadget looked away, but started to retell her conversation; it was in a typically slightly rambling form, so Dale allowed his mind to envision their dialogue.

Gadget cautiously peered around the doorframe. Clarice sat unmoving on the piano bench, staring blankly at the keys. She was no longer crying; sheet music lay scattered about on the floor. Gadget gradually made her way over to Clarice and sat down beside her.

Clarice didn't look up but spoke softly. "I'm a bad person."

Gadget's heart went out to the lovely singer and she put a gentle hand on Clarice's shoulder. "No, you're not."

"You have no idea what I've done."

Gadget hesitated before responding. "Yes—yes, I do."

Clarice still did not face Gadget, but her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened in understanding. "Dale."

Gadget just nodded. "He told me when we went to look for Max." She swallowed hard in the few moments of uncomfortable silence. Finally, she had to ask. "Do you still-"

"Love Chip?" finished Clarice. She laughed humorlessly. "I'm sure you'd like to know." Her tone was bordering on cynical.

Gadget blanched. "Clarice, Dale just told me today that Chip has had feelings for me. I haven't had time to decide exactly how I feel about him."

Clarice finally raised her head to look into Gadget's eyes. "If you have to take too much time to think about something like that, then maybe you shouldn't bother."

"What do you mean?"

Clarice stared at Gadget, incredulous. "I mean, if you can't make up your mind, then maybe your feelings aren't as strong as you think they might be." She looked away. "And it might turn out for the better."

Gadget had to ponder this for a minute. "Well, we've been friends for years now. Neither of us has made any 'moves' toward the other. I mean, we've flirted, I guess, but I've flirted with Dale too."

Clarice nodded, now softening a bit toward the naïve mouse. "Honey, I made that mistake too. Look," she stared Gadget dead in the eyes, "you need to know this." She took a shuddery intake of breath. "I still love Chip. I never stopped loving him. I don't know why I did what I did . . . and I know I don't deserve his love back. But if you decide that there is something more between the two of you and if he wants to return it—" Clarice broke off, her voice cracking a little. Regaining her composure, she continued. "Then he's all yours."

Gadget was a little taken aback by Clarice's declaration of love. She stared at earnest at Clarice, her exceedingly high I.Q. working as fast as possible—and fortunately, this time, on the emotional side. "Go talk to him," she urged. "Please."

Clarice's poise crumbled. "Oh, Gadget," she whispered in near fright. "I can't tell him—I mean, Dale and I—we promised each other . . . ."

Gadget shook her head firmly. "I know I'm better with machines than people most of the time, but I think you two need to talk some of these things out." She took Clarice into a friendly, almost sisterly hug.

Gadget still couldn't meet Dale's eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you first. I guess we kinda left that part out."

Dale hung his head. "Aw, it's ok." He sat very quietly for a moment. "Do . . . do you love Chip?" His words were tearful.

Gadget didn't speak at first, but when she spoke, her words were crisp. "I couldn't answer Clarice. I can't answer you. I don't think I know the answer." She moved the chair closer to the bed, taking Dale's hands in hers. "Dale—I'm sorry if I've ever hurt you."

Dale looked puzzled. "Gadget, I know your inventions don't always work, but-"

"No, Dale." Gadget shook her head, a slight smile forming. "I mean that I hope I haven't hurt your feelings."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I've said some mean things sometimes too."

Gadget sighed. "I also hope I haven't . . . led you on, or anything. I just don't really know what it's like to be in love, I think." She grimaced.

The pair sat quietly in the stillness as the clock struck one.