See disclaimer and other information in part one.

Margaret walks gloomily into the office for another day of work. The trip to Manchester had only made the problem worse. She doesn't know why she tries. Her boss's life really shouldn't be her problem, but –well-she isn't going to think about that right now. Leo, once again, stumbles in with a hangover. Margaret pulls out the appointment book and starts making calls. These meetings have already been rescheduled once before and some re-rescheduled. This has been going on long enough that Margaret has created a list of plausible excuses. If she reaches the end, it's time for a new plan.

She has long since given up on lunch. Worrying about Leo's blood sugar is probably giving her an ulcer, but the idea of getting a sandwich thrown at her just doesn't appeal. It sets fear in her stomach and what she really needs is hope to deal with Leo's perpetual grumpy mood. He hasn't done much more than bark a few orders at Margaret in weeks. It couldn't continue like this for much longer.

Margaret jumps when Leo exits his office, the door slamming against the stopper, and then walks out the main office door. This doesn't surprise Margaret at all. Leo has taken to visiting the bathroom down the hall several times a day. She figures that he's developed a bladder problem to top it all off or maybe has the clichéd flask hidden in his pocket.

The printer, then, decides to jam. If the paper isn't aligned just right, the edges tear off inside the printer. It takes forever to pull all the little pieces out with a pair of tweezers. Margaret grumbles in frustration about modern technology and sets to work.

She finally gets the paper fed back in correctly when she realizes that Leo hasn't returned yet. It's been almost twenty minutes and Leo's never been this long. This could be embarrassing, but something has her set on edge. She makes her way to the men's restroom and makes sure the hall is clear before opening the door a little. She can't hear anyone moving around inside, which worries her more. Her grasp fills the silence.

"Leo!" Margaret reaches under the stall door and tries to wake him up, "Leo!"

She doesn't hear the confused businessman walk in, but his voice breaks through her panic, "Ma'am, I think you're…Oh"

"Call an ambulance."

"Margaret, I'm fine."

She ignores him and starts fluffing the next pillow, "You don't need a backache to top it all off."

"Would you stop fussing."

Margaret glares at him and then leans him back on the pillows.

"Get the I told you so over with."

"Leo, we both know what the real problem is, but we don't talk about it," she states firmly, avoiding his eyes.

"Margaret, not now."

"Then when?"

"How about never," he winces as the IV's object to his movement, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Margaret grabs his hands, "Stop that before you hurt yourself."

Leo's too angry with himself and all moving beings to let Margaret care about him, "Margaret, just get out. I can handle this on my own."

Leo's never used a vicious tone before-maybe angry, but never vicious- no matter his state of mind. It's the last straw for Margaret's tattered nerves, "Fine! Maybe, next time I won't come looking for you."

She slams into Jed as she storms out of the room. Jed doesn't miss the tears running down her face and gives his friend a hard look over her shoulder. Margaret brushes past before he can say anything.

"What are you doing here?"

"Being a friend. You know caring about someone else. You do remember what that means."

"Why won't everyone leave me alone?"

"Because, my friend, we care," he settles into the chair next to the bed, "That wasn't very nice, what you said to Margaret."

"It's none of her business."

"Leo, I think you made it her business. Now, we need to talk."

"I don't know what everyone wants to talk about."

Jed raises his eyes to Leo's. Year of friendship makes such a simple action mean so much more, "Yes, you do."

Leo can't hold his gaze.

"Leo, this isn't about your father or about pride. You have a disease and you need help. That's what Margaret, Abbey, and all your other friends have been trying to get you to see. My pal, you got lucky this time."

The silence grows heavy as Leo contemplates what Jed has said. Everyone has been tiptoeing around this issue for years, but he has never woken up in hospital bed because of it. He knows it's time to do what his father never did. "I'm an alcohol," he croaks, the tears starting to brim around his eyes.

"Abbey sent the name of a few places," Jed grasps his friend's wrist in comfort and bows his head in silent prayer.

Margaret unlocks the door. Leo isn't coming back for a while and Jed asked her to pack his luggage just as she always does.

"Oh my," Margaret grasps when the door opens. The room is completely trashed. The cleaning lady obviously hasn't been here in a long time. Margaret begins picking up clothes scattered around on the furniture and wrinkles her nose at their smell: alcohol, sweat, and vomit.

Glass crunches under her feet. She looks down and the light is catching thousands of tiny pieces of glass creating a rainbow effect. It would have been beautiful if it didn't represent something so sad. The giggles just suddenly erupt from her. Nothing about this scene is funny, but the endless weeks of tension working with an angry alcoholic have gotten to her. By the time she has the vacuum cleaner running, the tears are streaming down her face. She's really worried about Leo and maybe that this is a push to far. It seems the more he's confronted with the issue the more he drinks. The state of the room only makes that feeling worse: it had been pristine before they left for Manchester. She looks at the stains on the carpet from the bourbon: Leo's favorite. Margaret wonders if she should have the carpet replaced. The stains probably aren't going to come out. She, also, considers buying new glasses. This only reminds her of why she's crying in the first place. Leo has thrown most of them at various objects in the room.

Leo's bedroom is just as messy as the living area. She picks up ties, shirts, and pillows. Luckily, Leo has a great deal more clothing than he'll ever need. Margaret, for once, isn't sure what to pack. Suits somehow don't seem appropriate, but she so rarely sees him in anything else.

She sits down on his unmade bed. Amazingly it still smells like the good Leo, not the unshowered one with a hangover. She wraps herself up in the blankets and just sits for a while. She cries into his pillow.

Confusion clouds her mind. Leo is just her boss and she has no right to be so upset. Margaret is not sure that she can ever really think of Leo as just her boss. Emotional detachment had ended a long time ago. Leo would never really notice the difference, but that didn't seem to stop the attachment from forming. Right now his smell is the only comfort she'll ever get and all she can do is pray that he gets his grumpy ass back soon.

TBC

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