"Holy shit! I thought you were a goner."

Danny heard her before he saw her. He was definitely breathing now, but every movement sent stabbing pains into his chest that radiated out into his arms. Before he even opened his eyes he knew he was crying again, but the fucking relief he felt washed away every vestige of embarrassment. He blinked a few times, vision blurring and clearing in rapid succession. This time the green eyes were accompanied by a look of relief. Her mouth moved again and it took him a moment to understand what she was asking. "Are you okay?"

He nodded and closed his eyes again. The buzz in his ears began to fade, and the sounds of the city filtered into his brain as Danny breathed in as slowly and deeply as possible. Somewhere in the distance he thought he could hear the ringing of a bell, possibly the cyclist still on the pavement on a mission to kill other New Yorkers going about their business, possibly just a figment of his imagination. The smells of the city began to break through - exhaust from a hundred thousand cars, the warm scent of something being baked, the subtle scents of somethings both hard to place and so familiar. He'd never thought about those small notes in the city air, the dark brown of soil that almost never overpowered the smells of industry, a thick and cloying smell that stopped right behind your teeth and could only be described as freshly printed money. He'd never be able to capture those small threads again, so he breathed in deeply once more before opening his eyes again.

A thick mane of red hair circled his savior's face like a halo. Real red, not bottle red. His eyes focused in on little details, like the fact that no amount of foundation could truly blend away the sprinkling of freckles that adorned her fair face like a constellation. And eyes he'd previously considered green were a grey green, set off by a ring of copper at the very center like a corona. She looked worried, but calm too, like she'd seen some things and was made of stern stuff indeed. He watched her lips form the words again. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm okay." He gave her a weak smile, but she just nodded and moved out of her crouch to offer him a hand up. He pulled himself up by her hand, but found himself a little less steady on his feet than he'd anticipated, and tilted awkwardly toward her. She caught him anyway and pulled him to her. Guiding him gently as though he were a child, she put his hand on a brick wall and then stepped away so he could right himself. Somehow she'd known that he'd rather have an anchor and a minute to catch his breath than to be held by a stranger. As the ground steadied beneath his feet he remembered the tears in her eyes when he'd blacked out. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. You just knocked the breath out of me." Sure enough she didn't look shaken, just steady. It put him on the defensive, despite the fact that he knew he owed her his life.

"Hey, you're the one who pulled on me!"

"I pulled you out of the way of a cyclist that was about to cream you. He was wearing a helmet, you weren't. Thank you is the appropriate response here."

Danny pushed down the urge to argue and tried to find his manners, a real feat when he felt so desperately vulnerable. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She smiled at him, relief flooding her face again. His defensiveness drained away.

She just stood there quietly for what felt like an age as he tested out all of his faculties. Hearing and sight were back on line, and while his breathing was still a little fast it was even, and his heart rate had begun to drop to a normal range. He moved all his limbs experimentally and found that nothing was sprained or broken, everything loosening as the adrenaline washed away and he began to relax. "Seriously, thank you."

She shrugged. "Right place, right time."

Danny dragged the left arm of his hoodie across his forehead, gathering the cold sweat that threatened to drip into his eyes. He extended his right hand to her. "Dr Daniel Castellano."

"Erica." She smiled again, warm and genuine, as she took the proffered hand and gave it a decisive shake. "Close call there."

"I guess."

"It was. A close call." Her voice was firm, offering no real opening to debate. His own voice was shakier than he'd like, and hoarse from the unexpected strangling he'd received as she'd pulled him out of the way by his hoodie.

He just shook his head. "I'm sorry."

A little line appeared between her eyes, worry, but something else too, like she was trying to make a decision. "No big deal."

Something about her voice niggled at him, something strange. "You're not from around here." It came out as a statement rather than a question, but she nodded.

"Toronto. I'm here on business. That's why I'm out walking at all hours. The city sounds different and my partner snores. I couldn't sleep."

"He doesn't snore at home?"

"She," Erica corrected. "And I wouldn't know, we don't usually sleep together."

Danny's face drew into a puzzled expression and he saw it mirrored almost immediately in her own expression before her features relaxed as something dawned on her. "Business partner. We were supposed to stay in the same hotel room like it was a fun girl's holiday. That's not quite how it's playing out, but we're only here another 2 days. She doesn't believe me when I say she snores. I love her, but she's got kind of a diva streak."

A smile of recognition broke across his face. Mindy would go to her grave swearing that she didn't snore, but sometimes it was so loud that she woke herself up, and then blamed it on him. Danny began to chuckle, felt the tension he'd been holding onto melt a little. "Yeah, I know someone like that."

"It's ridiculous, right?"

Danny nodded. The memory of a long night spent on his couch contemplating Mindy's snores bubbled to the surface of his mind. He had pulled the doors behind him as he left her curled on the right side of his bed, trying to give her some privacy, but her snores cut through the silence and kept him company as he replayed the night over and over. Things had never been straightforward between the two of them, but he had, until the moment she slid her arms around him, believed that they'd managed to find a friendship balance that they could live with. That he could live with. Something about the sounds of her sleeping, right there in his bed where he'd smell her scent for weeks afterward no matter how many times he washed the sheets, made it all too real. Amy had said out loud what he already knew to be true, and he'd known he'd never be able to get that illusion back

It had been a mistake to open the door to that memory because it was followed almost immediately by the memory of all the other sounds she made when she slept - snatches of conversations from her strange dreams, little hums of contentment, soft sighs. The laughter died in his throat and the next sound that came out of him was alarming, like a sob and gasp at the same time. Erica's eyes widened in surprise and she reached for his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay."

The embarrassing tremor had returned to his voice as he shook his head again. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm shaken up. I'm fine."

Erica frowned. "Why don't you let me buy you a coffee?"

"No, it's okay. I just need to walk it off, get a good night's sleep." He didn't know if he could face his apartment yet, but he couldn't stand to be the subject of a stranger's kindness right now. He just couldn't. "It was nice to meet you, I appreciate your help. Enjoy New York."

Danny turned and started walking back towards home, picking up speed a bit as he went. By the time she caught up with him she was out of breath. "Boy, you sure know how to run, don't you?" Erica panted as he slowed down and then finally stopped to watch her cautiously.

He knew she wasn't talking about his speed, or at least not entirely, and the shame of it pressed down on him, knocking the wind out of him all over again. She'd chased him down for a reason, and the way this complete stranger cut straight to his biggest fear about himself made him shift restlessly as she clung to his arm and tried to catch her breath. "Come on, let me buy you a coffee."

Tonight had turned into quite possibly the worst night of his life, and he just didn't have the patience to find out whatever it was that she was after. "Hey, I said thanks. I don't know what you want from me. Whatever it is you need, I don't think I can help you."

She straightened up and shook her head gently. "No, I don't want anything. In fact, I think I can help you."

"What makes you think I need your help?"

Erica's eyebrows raised slightly at the unexpected volume of his voice. "Well, for one you literally ran from a cup of coffee."

"Lady, I don't even know you..."

"And two," she cut him off abruptly, "I saw your face before you saw the guy on the bike. Almost getting killed was not the worst thing that's happened to you tonight. It's not even close. I don't know what that could have been, but whatever chased you out to the streets in the middle of the night will still be chasing you when you get home. So don't go home. Come have a cup of coffee with me and talk about it. Or don't talk about it. Just don't go back. You're not ready."

Danny felt his face crumple, but she didn't react, she just watched him expectantly and waited for an answer. He nodded silently and she took the lead, marching back the way they'd come toward a door he hadn't even seen even though he had to have passed it twice tonight. It just looked like a door to him, but he shrugged and followed her into what turned out to be a surprisingly nice, if a bit trendy, coffee shop. There wasn't a soul in the place, even behind the bar, and he couldn't see why it would be open at this hour, but something about the faded gold of the walls and the under counter lights made the place feel warm, soothing. Even the little monsters on the black posters that lined one of the walls didn't seem strange, especially once he said the name out loud. "Goblins?"

"Yeah," she said absently as she walked behind the counter herself like she owned the place.

"It is even open?"

"It's always open for me." Danny gave her a puzzled look and she expanded a little. "It's a friend's place, don't worry about it."

"I thought you weren't from around here," he countered.

"I'm not. Dave and Ivan know that I have to bring friends here now and then though, they won't mind. Let me make you something to drink. I'm better with espresso-based drinks than anything else, but something tells me you're not a vanilla latte guy. How about an Americano?"

"Sure." Danny shrugged. "So you're a barista? Or you own a coffee place?"

"Nope." Her voice was drowned by the sudden sound of the coffee grinder and he missed the rest of the sentence, but as she stopped the grinder and slotted the little filter full of freshly ground beans into the machine, she pulled a card from her pocket and flipped it onto the counter in front of him and promptly disappeared into a back store room. The card was white, plain black lettering with the only concession to embellishment a single pale grey watermark, the letter E in a swooping script.

She reappeared with a small carton of milk and turned back to her task, steaming milk as he watched in disbelief. "Is that what this is? You wanna shrink me?"

A cup of hot coffee was placed in front of him with a flourish and she replied with her back to him as she finished preparing her own latte. "No, I'm not a shrink."

He read the card aloud, "'Dr. Erica, the only therapy you'll ever need. Results guaranteed.' Sounds like a shrink to me."

She carried her cup around the bar and sat at the stool next to him, blowing at the steamy froth. "I'm not really like any kind of therapist you've ever been to."

"I've never been to any kind of therapist, and I'm not starting now." Danny shifted on the stool when her hand stopped him. The touch was light, but somehow it held him in place.

"You can go, but will you please hear me out first?" She looked so earnest and he was just so fucking tired. He nodded and she continued. "You are handsome, successful, probably pretty financially stable. I'm willing to bet you've been married, but you're not any more."

Danny frowned, but didn't say anything, so she kept going. "Over the course of the last decade most of your friends have peeled off and started their own families, fallen out of contact. You have a pretty supportive family, maybe to the point of invasive, but they all have lives of their own. You find yourself spending a lot of time alone, meals for one, too many hours at work, and starting to get a little too settled in your ways. You're lonely."

"This is just cold reading, I know about this."

Erica nodded in agreement. "It could be, but that doesn't mean you don't feel anything when you hear me say it out loud to you. I'm not here to scam you. I don't take payment for services, and I'm only here for another 38 hours, so I'm not offering real therapy. What I'm offering you is the chance to say what you've needed to say for a long time. You can't say it to whomever you're running from, so say it to me. I'm nobody, and I'm gone the day after tomorrow. Tell me."

"Say one thing to me that isn't generic bullshit. Say one thing to convince me that you have any idea what I'm going through or any clue what I could do to fix things."

"Okay." She closed her eyes for a second and drew in a big breath. "You don't think things can be fixed. You think you missed your chance to make things right, and you would trade anything in the world for a chance to just go back and do today over." Her eyes opened and she stared directly into his eyes. "You think you made a mistake tonight, not trying to kiss her, but failing to tell her the real reason why."

His voice failed him, barely a whisper in the quiet room. "What?"

Erica leaned back and clasped her hands in her lap. "I'm only here for a couple of days, and I wouldn't ordinarily offer such a brief window, but when I look at you I can already feel you letting go of yourself. I can help you, but I need a commitment. This is not traditional therapy, and you're going to want to turn away from it at some point, but if you will agree to do the work I'll help you change your life. Tonight. Do we have an agreement?"

Danny swallowed hard. If he'd lost Mindy...well he didn't have anything left to lose. "Yeah. I'll do it."

"Good." Erica smiled and picked her cup up again, bringing it tentatively to her lips and taking a small sip.

"So what do I do? You gonna hypnotize me? Should I lay down on the ground?"

"Why would you lay on the ground?"

Danny grimaced. "Nothing. Someone I know does that when she's sad."

"Why don't you tell me what happened tonight?"

"Okay. I...she's my best friend. We didn't always like each other, but I guess we kinda got used to each other, and then... more. She's the smartest, funniest, sexiest, kindest, weirdest, most impossible person I've ever met and when we were just friends we were okay. We tried dating and it didn't work, I just hurt her, and it has taken us months to get back to being friends. I know I shouldn't have tried to kiss her again. She said I just did it because she was all dressed up for her date, but that's not how it was. I wanted to tell her that's not how it was, it's just sometimes I have a problem telling someone what I really feel."

"And how do you feel?" Erica reached out to put her cup down, and pulled a napkin from one of the alumninum dispensers to wipe a couple of drops of coffee from the counter.

"I picked the wrong time to try and kiss her. It wasn't because someone else wanted her. I want her. I need her. I always have. I should have told her before she met someone else. I should have told her tonight. If she just knew that it wasn't about some guy, it was about her, she'd have stayed home. She'd have picked me. I know she feels the same way I do, I was just stupid about it. She thinks I didn't care about how she feels, but it's all I ever think about."

"So you would to it differently? You'd tell her you want her and she'd stay with you and everything would be okay?"

Danny looked up. "Yeah."

She nodded firmly. "Done."

For the second time tonight his vision began to darken, his hands suddenly cold. Just as he started to panic that he might have actually taken a hit to the head and was having some sort of stroke after the fact, he hit the ground and found himself on his hands and knees staring at deep pink carpet. The room swam into focus and he could hear Mindy, her voice tinny like she was shouting down a tunnel. He was in her office again, and he didn't even remember coming to work. He looked around, taking in the bright sunlight (when had he gone to sleep?)and her concerned face. She was wearing the same thing she had worn to work yesterday, which wasn't...wasn't what was happening. He looked down at his own clothes and realized with a start that he was wearing his old clothes too and it was suddenly clear that he was either dead and reliving his last day over as his life flashed before his eyes, or by some fucked up miracle he'd gotten his second chance.

He looked into Mindy's eyes and said the first thing that came to mind. "Holy shit."