A/N Lots to tie up before the end.

If you're a Bridget fan - make note - this is what developed. I know you'll PM me if she's broken in ANY way.

The Best Laid Plans (To a Mouse by Robert Burns)

The news crews were pushing at the security gates at Heathrow Airport that overcast morning. The women deplaned and were escorted to Customs where their passports were checked and they were cleared.

"Enjoy your stay, Ms. Kelly," the Customs Officer said to the actress.
"Welcome back, Ms. Murray," the other one said to the native. "Just here for a few days?"

"How could I pass up an all-expense paid trip?" the actress smiled back.

"Do you think they're going to be disappointed that we're not them," her friend and costar asked as they walked to the press.

"Well, I certainly hope not," the seasoned actress said back.

As Sunday morning broke over the East Coast, life for the Wells staff was humming along. After the reception, the group of friends went out clubbing and wound up at an all-night diner on 35th Street and Second Avenue in Manhattan. Sitting at a large round table in the back, the three couples ate pancakes and sausages, eggs and bacon and Pete insisted on one steak and cheese hero.

Helena had given Eileen a white envelope, instructing her to open it first thing the next day. "Well, it is the next day," she said to Claudia as she opened it up. Everyone around the table watched as the expression on the young woman's face changed.

"Don't tell me she wants you to work today?" Claudia complained. "Isn't it enough that you're overseeing some of her projects in her absence?"

Those words reminded Eileen of the daunting task ahead and made her stomach hurt. Then she remembered Helena's assuring words. "Miss Sullivan, if I didn't think you were ready, I wouldn't put this on you. It is time," her mentor said to her.

"No, it's ….," Eileen said, showing everyone the official deed. Claudia was the first one to react as she grabbed the document from her girlfriend.

"Whatizit?" Pete asked, shoving another pancake in his mouth. Claudia passed the paper to Steve who passed it to Jack who gave it to Jane who showed it to Pete.

"Well, I guess we know where we're going from here," Claudia said and Steve high-fived her. The group had no intention of dispersing just yet.

"Does she mean, while she's away, I can stay there?" Eileen uttered her first thoughts.

"I think deed means it's yours," Steve explained.

"I can't live there…," Eileen said of the massive apartment.

"Pffft, hand over the key then because I sure as hell can," Claudia said, laughing. Having Eileen stay most nights at her apartment was great, but living in the tiny apartment was making her envious of space.

"You can?" Eileen asked sincerely.

"Are you kidding me? Living on 57th Street? In a fraking Penthouse? Sign me up," the techie said.

"Oh," Eileen said, thinking it over. "It would be convenient. But we would still visit my parents, right?"

"Visit them? Have them move into the West Wing, why don't you?" Claudia said and Steve kicked her hard under the table.

"OUCH!" she said as her friend smiled innocently. "Opstay ithway ethay uturefay inyay-awlay invitesyay," Steve said out of the side of his mouth. (Stop with the future in-law invites).

"Don't worry, Steve. My father would never leave Brooklyn," Eileen assured with a knowing look.

The check was paid and the well-dressed group of six friends made their way to Eileen's new abode. They tried to be serious when the very somber doorman checked Eileen's credentials and when assured that she was who she said she was, handed her the security card. The more they tried, the harder they laughed.

"Welcome, Ms. Wells," he said incorrectly.

"It's… Sullivan," she corrected him.

"For now," Claudia said and then realized that thought came out of her mouth. "What? I mean her name…never mind."

The six entered the private elevator where soft music played above. It took them directly to the Penthouse. Standing in the large entryway now with her friends, Eileen opened a lavender envelope with her name on it that was resting on the entryway table.

"What does it say?" Pete asked, curious about this whole thing. He had brought Helena and guests back to this place quite a few times. It wasn't until he started taking Helena to her townhouse did he realize that was her real home.

"I've seen more men tossed out of here than…," he started to share, but Jane gently elbowed him.

"Dear Miss Sullivan: Please accept the ownership of this apartment as a gift from both of us. It might be useful for you to have your own place in the City. I hope you will change it to suit your needs. And I hope you will see fit– at least sometimes, to make it your home. Fondly, Helena."

Eileen folded the note and clutched it to her chest. She stepped further into the vast space that was the living room with floor to ceiling windows. The view overlooking Manhattan was breathtaking.

"Well, let's see how the kitchen is fixed for food," Pete said, having spent a lot of time in there as he waited for Helena's past suitors to find their clothes before leaving.

Jane, Steve, and Jack followed him into the other room. Claudia came up behind Eileen and put her arms around her waist.

"Are you okay?" she asked, gently hugging her girlfriend.

Eileen nodded and then looked down at the letter and continued reading to share the rest.

"PS – Like Ms. Donovan, you are destined to do wonderful things. I hope some of those things will take place at Wells Corp. Wherever you go, I hope you will always know that I will be there for both of you. Do not let the next couple of weeks intimidate you. You are a Wells, and we never back down from anything. Much like the Donovan's."

Eileen cried at the words and Claudia hugged her, assuring her everything was okay. "If you don't want to stay here…," Claudia said.

"Is this what we want?" Eileen asked, wiping the tears away and looking around again.

"It does kind of fit in with our plans, don't you think?" Claudia reminded her of their decision to move in together full time. "In a huge, football stadium size way."

Eileen turned to face Claudia. "We have to visit…," Eileen asked and the concern was evident in her azure eyes.

"Every weekend. I wouldn't miss your father's breakfasts for anything," Claudia said. The Sullivan's had become like family to the young Donovan.

"If he retires, he'll be here every day," Eileen laughed. "He likes to fix things."

"Good. Let him start with hanging some drapes on those windows because girl, I do not want all of Manhattan seeing me dance around in my Ellen underwear," Claudia said and started to sway her hips back and forth.

"Come here you," Eileen said, grabbing her girlfriend in a hug. Leaning into each other now, the couple walked into the kitchen.

The marble island was already covered with food choices that Pete had pulled out of the refrigerator.

"Hope you don't mind," Jane asked apologetically.

"Not at all," Eileen said as they joined in for the second round of breakfast.

On the quiet street in Queens, where people were getting ready for church, Irene Frederic was dressed and came downstairs to walk Bandit. But when she got there, the dog was not to be found.

"Oh Lord, she will have my head," she said out loud, thinking of Helena's reaction, as she called the dog's name and searched the house. Suddenly, she heard her front door close and Bandit was rushing at her. "What the devil?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Frederic," Sui Generis said as he hung up the dog's leash on the hook in the hallway. "We had a long walk this morning."

"Mr. Generis, did I know about this?" Irene asked and her tone was most definitely telling him she did not.

"Ms. Wells assured me that it would indeed be a surprise and that was how she wanted it," Sui said, putting the kettle on for tea.

"What are you doing?" Irene asked as she watched the android move around the kitchen like he knew where everything was.

"I downloaded schematics of the house. Ms. Wells said you would be …what was that word?" he contemplated while he made the tea. "Oh yes, cranky. That's the word. And that I should make you tea until …and I quote…. You get past your mood," he summarized.

Irene pulled back at the thought that Helena had instructed him on things. "Well, thank you very much, Mr. Generis for walking him. I am fine now. Perhaps you should….," Irene started and then stopped. He was there for a purpose and it wasn't just to walk the dog. "Where are you to go now?" she asked.

"I am to stay with you," he answered and Irene grimaced to think that she should have seen this coming.

"Is that so?" Irene asked, accepting the tea from her new roommate.

"Yes. Ms. Wells said that you are getting on in years…," Sui said as he followed Irene to the dining room. She stopped short at the words.

"Getting on in years?" she repeated and then continued to walk.

"Yes, as in getting older…more advanced in age," Sui explained in case there was any doubt.

Irene sat down at the head of the table and pointed to where Sui should sit. "Now what else did Ms. Wells tell you?" Irene asked, remembering that the android was programmed to answer questions.

"Well, Ms. Wells also said I was to say 'checkmate'. However, upon researching this, it seemed an inappropriate term unless we were playing chess. So I deduced that she thought we should play chess. It is statistically impossible to beat me, so when we do play, I will undoubtedly get to say checkmate," Sui pondered.

Irene sipped her tea and smiled. Even with all that Helena had going on, she managed to find time to set into motion something to annoy her. "Oh, I'm sure," Irene smiled and Sui smiled back. "Why did I think I would have peace while she was away?" the woman asked herself. "Now did she tell you anything else?"

"Yes, she said I am not to let you get into my head and that if you did, no program in the world would be able to erase the voice you would implant there," Sui reported as he sipped his tea.

"What do you think about that?" Irene asked, aware that Helena hadn't planned on her idioms being lost on him.

"Well, as talented as you are, I know for a fact you have no mechanical training and very little program knowledge. Therefore, I deduced that you would never be able to actually access the circuits," the android smiled.

"Oh I've gotten through thicker things than your cranial shell, Mr. Generis, I can assure you of that," Irene smiled. "Shall we begin?" Irene smiled, but Helena's creation just looked at her quizzically.

"Begin?" he asked.

"Chess, Mr. Generis, chess," the HR Director smiled.

Helena dangled a piece of watermelon from her fork and fed it to Myka who was seated next to her at the table on the veranda. Myka closed her lips around the utensil, holding Helena's hand until she swallowed.

"Millie would not be pleased," Myka said, putting down her fork and picking up the next piece of melon with her fingers. Helena instinctively opened her mouth, but Myka purposely ran the rectangular shaped piece across her bottom lip. Helena laughed as she felt the cool sensation on her mouth. When Myka placed the fruit in Helena's mouth, the Brit pushed Myka's fingers deeper passed her lips and kept them there as she slowly chewed the food and swallowed.

"Why Mrs. Bering-Wells, are you trying to seduce me so early in the morning," Myka asked, playfully.

"Well, Mrs. Bering-Wells, I am trying to catch up to the number of times you seduced me last night," Helena said, taking the next piece of fruit and feeding Myka.

"Seduce you? I believe there was very little persuasion needed on my part," Myka laughed after swallowing. She held Helena's hand there and slowly licked the juice off her index finger. "You came willingly."

"Multiple times," Helena gasped.

Myka pushed back her chair, got up and leaned down to kiss Helena – hard – after saying - "I love you so much."

Helena was light-headed. When Myka released her head, Helena took a deep breath to steady herself. "Your kisses are intoxicating," she said softly.

"Come on then," Myka said, pulling her wife up from the chair. She grabbed the bowl of fruit with her other hand. "I'm going to get you completely drunk!"

After church and lunch, Irene had given Sui enough things to think about. She went into her small study and took out her phone and called Bridget, as Helena asked her to do. She kept an eye on the woman after Helena expressed her concern, but never noticed anything unusual. By all accounts, Bridget Cummings was enjoying herself immensely at the reception.

The phone vibrated on Bridget's desk. She pulled her hands away that had been covering her eyes to see who it was. She wouldn't have answered it except when Irene's name appeared, she worried something was wrong. She blew her nose, sat up straight, and forced a smile on her face, all in an attempt to sound as if everything was normal.

"Irene? Is everything okay?" she asked and hoped the woman would think her nasal tone was merely a cold.

Irene assured her that it was. Truth be told, Irene wasn't really sure how she would explain the impromptu call. All she knew was that Helena felt it was important and that is all she needed.

"Oh yes, quite fine, thank you. And you?" Irene asked. Bridget assured her that she was. "I am sorry to disturb you at home," Irene said and Bridget explained that she was at the office, working on a very important deal. It was exactly what Irene wanted to know.

"Tea? Today?" Bridget asked, grabbing a mirror to see just how disheveled she look. It was pretty bad. "Oh, I don't know…..,"

"Yes, I think it would be best," Irene assured her in the calmest, most motherly tone Bridget had heard since she left her home in Georgia all those years before.

"Okay," she heard herself saying even though her brain was yelling not to go. "I'll see you at three then."

Bridget put down the phone and shook her head, surprised at the woman's timing. The more she thought about it, she decided it couldn't be just a coincidence. What little she knew of the HR Director, she knew little the woman did was unplanned. She took a cab into Queens and spent the forty minute ride thinking about it. Maybe it was something about Myka? Or Helena? Or maybe she wanted to hear Bridget's plans for the post wedding bachelorette-no-more party? 'Yeah, sure, that's it,' Bridget said, rolling her eyes.

Right at three o'clock, the doorbell rang and Irene and Bandit answered the door. 'She wants me to take the dog,' was the next thought. "Please come in, Ms. Cummings," Irene said in a very friendly tone. One look told the woman Helena had been right. "I do appreciate you making the trip."

"Oh, no problem. Oh look at this face!" she said, grateful the dog was there to take her mind off things. "He's staying with you?" she asked as Irene waited to take her coat. Bridget knelt on the floor, squeezing the dog that was too big now to pick up.

"Yes, it was decided that he needed an environment that would encourage his training, rather than dismantle it," Irene said, hanging up the coat.

"Oh," Bridget said, realizing that she was doing the very thing by roughhousing with the dog. "But he's so cute!" she said, standing up.

"Come in for tea, please," Irene finally said. Bridget followed and was surprised then to see Sui coming out of the kitchen.

"What is this? The refuge for the brides' orphans?" Bridget laughed until she realized she was there, too.

"Mr. Generis is here to learn how to play chess, isn't that right?" Irene said and the android began to explain that he knew how to play chess. Bridget watched the knowing smile that appeared on her host's face. "If you would be so kind as to take Bandit for his walk, Mr. Generis?"

The man put the tray of tea down on the living room coffee table and said that he would be happy to. This left the house extremely quiet and Bridget didn't sit down right away. "You have a lovely place here, Irene," she said.

"Thank you, Bridget," Irene said, deciding first names were appropriate now.

"I don't really know why I'm here," Bridget said, shoving her hands in the pockets of her skinny leg black pants that she wore with an oversized sweater. Her large watch hung on her wrist and prevented her from pushing her hand in any further.

"I invited you," Irene explained as she poured two cups of tea. "Sugar?"

"Please," the tall woman responded and finally took her seat on the couch. "Well, it was very nice of you."

"How are you doing?" Irene asked as she handed the cup to her guest.

Bridget sipped the hot tea rather than answer the question, but Irene's smiled weighed on her. "I'm …okay…. Yeah, I'm good," Bridget tried.

Irene nodded her head and sipped her tea.

"So have you heard from Helena yet?" Bridget laughed, but Irene answered no and smiled. The silence and her feeble attempts to make jokes were making Bridget very uncomfortable. "So…how 'bout those Knicks," Bridget tried, putting down the teacup.

"How is Ms. Styles," Irene said, following her gut feeling based on Helena's gut feeling.

The question startled her guest. Bridget's head snapped up to look at Irene. If there was one thing the banker prided herself on was always being upbeat – no matter what was going on. Did she look as bad as she felt? She had showered and reapplied make-up. How the hell could this woman know anything that happened? They were alone, no one was there. It all happened after they left the reception and were home. No one knew. No one. As her brain wrestled with these facts, Bridget stared into the woman's soft brown eyes and gentle face.

"Sarah ….," Bridget almost giggled as her eyes looked up at the ceiling. She put the tea down and got up and walked to the picture window, her back to her hostess now. "Sarah and I….," she started, as part of her was thinking that she might as well talk about it, and another part told her that this was private and she hardly even knew Irene Frederic. Yet, here she was, in her living room. "….…had a really good time at the wedding. Wasn't it perfect? Ah, the two of them ….and those vows? I cried every time I thought about them. So… fucking….. beautiful," the woman let loose and then quickly turned around. "Sorry," she apologized to Irene as if the woman never heard the word.

"I'm not offended," Irene assured her. She was just glad the financier was talking.

"Just seeing that take place. The two of them so happy. I couldn't stop thinking about it. So…," Bridget said, walking over and taking her seat on the couch again, "…after a few more glasses of that incredibly expensive champagne….," Bridget said and paused.

Irene waited patiently, because that was what Irene was good at and this was exactly why she was given this task. If Helena wanted someone to slap Bridget on the back and tell her to get over it, she would have asked Jane.

"…..I asked her to marry me," Bridget said, and the words made her smack her forehead with her hand, falling backwards on the couch. "Can you fuuu….can you believe it?"

Irene sat with her legs crossed at the ankles, her hands in her lap holding the teacup, her body turned toward the woman who was having trouble sitting still.

"As soon as I said it, I saw the look in her eyes. She was laughing and we were having trouble standing in the elevator and we were hysterical. And as soon as we got into my apartment, I asked her. And in one fell swoop – she went from laughing and letting go to …a 'deer in the headlights' panicked look. She looked at me like I asked her if she wanted to donate organs - right there, without anesthesia, for Christ's sake," Bridget said and then looked at Irene to see if she should apologize for that.

Irene didn't hold anyone else to the same standards she held Helena. There were reasons for that.

"It sounds like Ms. Styles was taken by surprise," Irene said, putting the cup down as softly as she had said those words.

"She was! I mean, I really took her by surprise. I did," Bridget confessed. "The thing is Mrs. Frederic," Bridget regressed to her formal name. "….I was so taken by that wedding, by those two standing there – bathed in light like that….."

"You saw that?" Irene asked of the joined auras that she was sure only certain people could see.

"Sure I did. I was standing right behind Myka. Anyway, I knew that special effect was probably your doing, but wow – it was spectacular," Bridget shared.

"Yes," Irene smiled, not sure what to make of the fact that Bridget witnessed it.

"I guess it got me thinking. I never would have admitted it, but I wanted that. I want someone to look at me the way Helena looks at Myka. Or the way that Myka can be sitting across the table with you having dinner, but when she talks about Helena, she's off in another world. You can just see it," Bridget said fondly of her friend.

"It's a wonderful thing to have," Irene said. "But you both have to be ready."

"You're suggesting that I got ahead of myself," the smart banker inferred. She knew where this was going. "Yes, I did. But I don't ask people to marry me every day, Irene. I wasn't ready for that answer."

Now Irene could hear the defensiveness in Bridget's voice. "It really meant something to you," Irene said.

"Hell, yes!" Bridget quickly answered. "Do you know how many people have asked me to marry them? I never wanted it – never!"

"But with Sarah?" Irene asked gently.

"That….. no – came off her lips and …hurt. It hurt like hell," Bridget relayed and grimaced when the pain repeated.

"I'm sure it did," Irene sympathized.

"She said it was too soon. That she's got so much going on now. Designing the wedding dresses has brought her a lot of attention, which is great. She's been working so long for this kind of recognition," Bridget said, her breathing regaining a normal flow.

"You're a very understanding woman," Irene smiled and patted Bridget's knee.

The feelings bubbled up inside the woman who could shut down emotions on a dime. "I'm crazy about her, Irene. She's like the broken wing sparrows we'd find when we were kids, ya'know? " Bridget asked, her southern accent peeking out through the memory. "We'd find them and take them home. Tape up a wing and feed them. Then we'd wait for them to get better and fly on their own."

"Sarah reminds you of that?" Irene asked.

"Yeah, a little," Bridget said, now getting uncomfortable in the emotionality of the moment. Bridget was an insightful woman when it came to relationships. She knew that she was the strong, the solid one and Sarah was the emotional, insecure one. "We make some pair," the banker lamented, her chest heavy from the pain of missing Sarah. She took a deep breath and turned her eyes away. "I told her to get out," she said, guilt ridden.

"I see," Irene said, but there was no alarm in her tone. It helped Bridget to have someone just listen. "Can you give her time?" Irene asked because that was often the issue when people were on two different planes, as Helena put it.

Bridget swallowed the last of the tea and put the teacup down. She turned to Irene and smiled. "Yes, I think I can. After I apologize."

With that, Sui came in with the dog that rushed at Bridget, but then stopped dead in his tracks when Irene said his name. He stood there waiting for Bridget to pet him, never jumping on her.

Bridget stood up and thanked Irene for inviting her. Irene got her coat and walked her to the front door.

"You're a very …talented…woman," Bridget said, of the host's deftness at getting her to talk.

"I have my moments," Irene smiled.

Bridget left and gave the driver Sarah's address in SoHo. Irene was right – she would tell Sarah to take all the time she needed. It was unreasonable she decided to ask Sarah to make a decision when so much was going on for her. She would apologize and tell her she would wait.

And that all she wanted was to be with Sarah.

Forty minutes later, Bridget rode up in the elevator to the loft apartment. As soon as it arrived, Bridget opened the gates and entered the large space.

"Sarah?" she called out with renewed enthusiasm. "Where are you?" she asked. She heard a rumbling noise in the loft area above and then Sarah appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Bridget! What…why... didn't you call?" the woman asked and in Bridget's exuberance, she missed the anxiousness of that question.

"I came to apologize. I am sorry. Not for asking, but for not understanding," Bridget said, walking towards Sarah as Sarah rushed down the steps. She was tying the sash to her satin robe tightly as she came at Bridget.

"I accept. It's okay. Let's go….. out for dinner," Sarah said and couldn't look at the confusion on her girlfriend's face.

"Don't you want to hear….," Bridget was asking when she heard it. The unmistakable noise of someone who was supposed to stay quiet moving upstairs in the loft.

Bridget looked at Sarah. It was 5:30 at night and she had assumed Sarah was still in her robe because of their late night. The designer met Bridget's eyes and it was clear. Someone else was there.

"Is this why you turned down my marriage proposal?" Bridget said her tone sharp.

"No, Bridget, no. It …I …didn't plan this. It just…happened," Sarah said in a whisper.

Bridget's eyes shot from her girlfriend to the upstairs bedroom. "Nothing …just happens, Sarah. Don't insult me. Who is it?" Bridget said, her expression hard now.

"She….works for ….me," Sarah said, casting her eyes away.

"How long?" Bridget asked because her legs locked and wouldn't let her leave yet.

"Long? No! Today. She was here to pick up the wedding dresses and ….I was so upset….and …it just happened," Sarah explained.

"How could you do this to us?" Bridget asked, questioning why she wasn't going upstairs to wring the woman's neck.

"Do this? Bridget, she worships the ground I walk on. She looks up to me, thinks I'm brilliant. Do you know how hard it is to be in your shadow?" Sarah tried.

"That is the worst fucking explanation for infidelity in the history of mankind," Bridget said disgustedly. The investment banker never tolerated bs – in business or in her personal life.

"Bridget, you're overreacting. It's nothing," Sarah said again, hoping her one-night stand couldn't hear her.

"Well that's too bad, Sarah," Bridget said, tossing her key on a table and getting back on the elevator. "Because you just threw us away….. for nothing." And with the Bridget slammed the gate together hard and started her descent.

"Bridget!" Sarah called loudly, rushing to the cage…..but it was too late. Bridget was gone.

"I think I should go," the young ingénue said, having gotten dressed and now sat pulling up her boots and putting on her coat. She had been spending nights with the designer, volunteering to do any work that she wanted. She was enamored with Sarah and found her very attractive. When she arrived that day and found her employer crying, she offered her comfort. Holding her boss' hand as Sarah shared that she had just screwed up the only relationship she cared about, she leaned in and kissed her. At first, Sarah pulled away, confused by the youth's unwanted actions. But there was such adoration in her eyes, such gratefulness to be with Sarah, that the designer fell for the temptation.

At first, it was exhilarating. Then it was awkward and regretful.

Minutes later, Bridget sat in a bar across the street from Sarah's, having only made it that far before she couldn't control her feelings. She wanted to see who the tryst was with, and shook her head when she saw the twenty year old emerge. "You're so stupid," she said as she sipped her scotch on the rocks. She meant her girlfriend, because she could tell by the demeanor of the youth that this could spell trouble for Sarah. She may have thought it was spontaneous, but Bridget could tell with one look, this kid was calculating. She was already on her phone.

Then Sarah appeared, looking like the emotional wreck that she was – and it immediately pulled at the heartstrings that Bridget swore she shut down.

"Sonovabitch," she murmured as she threw a twenty dollar tip on the bar and left. Sarah was trying to get a cab uptown, to Bridget's apartment. Seeing the tall blonde appear out of nowhere made Sarah's heart pound in her chest.

"I thought you left," she said as Bridget walked towards her. "I am…so sorry," the woman said, tears filling the green eyes that ordinarily, Bridget loved to drowned in.

"You've got bigger problems right now," Bridget said, grabbing Sarah's wrist, whistling for a cab and pushing her in the back seat. "Give me that little bitch's phone number," she said as she called the only person she knew could handle this.

"Hello, Claudia?"