Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and the masterpiece that is the 2006 television series Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip. I am not making any profit from this except for a little writing practice.

"Ricky and Ron's show flopped," Jordan was meant to be on maternity leave, still.

So was Danny. Paternity leave, that is. Instead, he was in Matt's office with Jordan delivering this news while Jordan was on her lunch break from dealing with the board execs about the upfronts.

"Don't laugh." Danny made an accusatory gesture at him from his spot on the couch.

Matt glared at his friend. "I'm not." There might have been the hint of a smile, but not a laugh.

"Well," Danny warned, "Don't."

"I'm not," Matt shrugged defensively.

"Good."

"Boys," Harriet's voice wasn't her own but Matt wasn't sure who she was impersonating and she'd never tell him until she had it perfected and he just knew. Was it Susan Sarandon with the hiss like that? "You're meant to call me when Rebecca's in the building. I had to find out from Cal."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Jordan handed Rebecca to Harriet but forced himself to look back at Danny instead of watching his girlfriend interact with his niece. "I'd happily hire them back."

"Ron, you mean."

"That's what I said," Matt swayed in his chair, "Ricky might have to beg a bit but I'm not going to turn away a writer."

"You will if it's Ricky," Harriet interjected. "Especially after the lawsuit we just won. He has a history of disrespect of women, Lucy and Jeannie and I can attest to that. We don't need more of that.

"They wouldn't get the same salary," Jordan interrupted.

"Do you find what you say cannot infiltrate their minds at all?" Harriet asked Jordan, swaying Rebecca in her arms.

Jordan scrunched her nose. "They'll hear me in a few minutes. It just takes a bit to register. They're just a bit slow."

"Hey," both men whipped around in objection.

Harriet bit her lips together, clearly fighting her amusement. Jordan wasn't so poised, laughing at the pair of them.

"So it flopped, huh?" Matt was genuinely saddened for them, Ron was a good guy and the job climate wasn't great at the minute, but he did respect them for backing themselves. Then again, he did warn them. Yet it wasn't totally their fault, audiences are fickle and cyclical, not a few weeks ago, he'd been facing the same failure.

Danny, it seemed, was tired of the conversation and unsubtle about his redirect.

"I know you said you'd find your own, but I can give you a few names of some sponsors if you'd like," Danny offered.

Matthew gulped. It wasn't so much the shame, that existed but he wasn't lying whenever he said to Danny there was no shame in falling off the wagon or needing help, there wasn't even shame in not asking for help when he knew he needed it, Matt knew that now. Still, there was a lump in his throat whenever he thought about the man he'd become for a barely a month, barely a month ago. He was the one who made sure Danny went to meetings, and he was the one who made sure Danny was doing okay when he was alone at one o'clock in the morning. It wasn't the other way around.

Until it was.

"I'm good actually," Matt dismissed his friend, finding his all-business demeanour irritating. Over at Danny's apartment, conversation was all about Rebecca and the wedding and, mortifyingly, when he and Harriet would be following their path. Matt had hoped that having Rebecca in the office, at least some of Danny's attention would be absorbed by the little girl. Apparently, Danny knew he'd been getting distracted as easily as breathing these last few weeks and was endeavouring not to do it now.

"Are you seeing a sponsor?"

Here we go, Matt thought. There had been a moment on that second day when Matt had to fight to convince Danny that he didn't intend it as a slight to his best friend when he said he didn't want him to be his sponsor. Danny had a fiance and a baby girl to worry about now, bigger things to worry about. He had his own sobriety to keep on track. He didn't need to be worrying about Matt.

Besides, Matt was never very good at trusting new people or talking to strangers or professionals, talking in general really, and he had just the person in mind.

Matt spotted Suzanne out the window of his office and in her own. "Yes."

"If you make a joke about never seeing two women at once before, Matt, I'll-"

Matt flinched, his eyes flicking over to the woman who spoke and then back to Danny. "She's scarier than you."

"Terrifying," his best friend agreed. "But you are still talking to Suzanne? And not just about work?"

Matt nodded, his eyes landing on Harry holding little Rebecca, looking for all the world, natural and at peace with the baby in her arms. "Yes. She's even better at advice than you are."

"Nobody likes a liar, Matty," but there was a hint of sadness, something akin to betrayal, in Danny's eyes.

Matt shrugged. Suzanne had been more than helpful. She'd shared her own story without asking for his. She'd approached him without ego and without blame, at what she thought might be personal and financial risk. She'd told him to be patient and slow with Harriet this time around. She threw out the piece of paper he'd written a speech on so that he didn't jump too early and then she encouraged him to put it in his screenplay and see what Harriet thought of it first because Suzanne was convinced it was too sappy and concerned with the past instead of the future. Danny had never had a good idea like that before.

"I don't think it's that she gives better advice," Harry placated from across the room, still holding his niece in her arms and Matt didn't even try to fight the thought of her holding their baby like he'd been doing the last few weeks. She was beautiful and somehow softened with the sunlight illuminating her from behind and her hand tenderly caressing that little tuft of hair. They weren't ready, not even close, not with her career taking off, not yet.

But one day.

"I think it's that she's more intimidating than you."

"I respect her more than you."

It was Harriet's turn to glare at Matt, annoyed that he was riling Danny up while she was trying to calm him down. "He doesn't want to disappoint her, so he does what she says, like comes home at a human hour."

Her nose comes down to kiss the nose of sleeping Rebecca as though Harriet can't help herself and Matt needs to leave the room or else he'll blurt out the thing Suzanne said not to say, not yet. They've been on and off for so long, fighting about nothing because they're both so scared of becoming the family they grew up in, but Suzanne's right; just because its good now, and it's really good, just because their communication is better than it's ever been, doesn't mean he has to say this out loud just yet.

Thankfully, he gets called about a visitor down in the writer's room from one of the new ADs and while Jordan and Harriet are adamant they know who it is, he really should be down there anyway, and not just because if he looks at Harriet holding Rebecca any longer he might suggest they start thinking of having a family of their own.

When he gets down there, whatever novelty or issue the new writers and ADs had with their visitor has worn off, and everyone seems to be in the middle of a pitch, so Matt takes his usual seat and tries not to think about that last box of Harry's things that they've unpacked in his house. They've never fully moved in together before, not without things in storage or an trailer on a movie set or an apartment in New York where the movie is being filmed.

"We could do something about a writer's strike," Si suggested to Lucy. "Do you remember back in oh-two and oh-four when Hollywood writers striked and only a couple of actors picketed too? That one Friends guy who worked in the room. They got their point across but also not really. And still no-one knows what the writers do."

"You mean like our own strike we had a couple weeks ago with the prop guys?" Lucy, looking far more colourful of face and smiley than Matt had ever seen her nodded along but he could see Simon didn't have her yet.

"We could do something like that but say the writers strike and then have Alex do his Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise - and who's our guest? - just flounder for a bit."

"It could be a running gag," Samantha suggested, "Cut back to it every so often."

"I don't see what's funny about a writer's strike," Lucy said evenly. Matt watched on proudly. A staff writer with no experience, she was not too long ago, and here she is running that room, the new hires she had a hand in picking, three women, two men all five of which Matt had seen material from but hadn't gotten to know yet, an old standup comic from aeons ago that the network had suggested and some kid from Berkley who hadn't grown into his voice yet but was prodigious at musical parodies. Matt was fairly certain the kid was someone's relative but he couldn't be sure.

"And I don't think you're making the point you think you are," Matt added. "Everyone knows actors aren't the best at writing their own lines. And you're missing the trick. If you really want to make a point about how this industry takes its smallest staff for granted, write something about the ADs striking," he threw his tennis ball up in the air and plucked it easily from the air. "That'd really make a point."

"Bit derivative, isn't it?" came a voice from the other entrance to the writer's room, an open door Matt always forgot to shut. "I'm about to publish an article about something similar."

He didn't need Suzanne to nudge him in the ribs to remember the woman's name and he made sure she saw his glare.

"Back already, Martha?"

The woman cocked her hip against the doorframe as though she was both a mere observer and the most important person in the room. Matt supposed she was.

"I figured I'd give you a few more weeks than promised," at detriment to her own story, he didn't doubt. Then again, with less time before the deadline and more pressure to publish was when Matt did his best work. Perhaps she was the same. "It sounded like you've been having quite the time down here."

Matt snorted. "Nice euphemism. I graduated that-"

"I get it," Martha rolled her eyes. "Ready for your close-up?"

Matthew slouched forward and then used his forearms on the table to ease himself out of his chair. He might grumble and still be on the fence about her profession, after all, he didn't know what she was writing about him and his friends yet, but there was something comforting about Martha O'Dell. She had a nice way of being someone that didn't know him but was more familiar with him and his emotions than a regular reporter or paparazzo, so talking to her was a bit like a pinch to the forearm. She wanted to know about his life but didn't want to squeal about it, she was part of the profession but not jaded or bored by what he did. And she knew his friends. She was excited and excitable and just trusted enough that he could wax lyrical about his life, his job, his family here at the studio, and would understand he wasn't exaggerating or faking how grateful he was. Three weeks ago, Matt would have had nothing to say to this woman. But today? This was his life, this! With Harry looking like an angel in the sunlight of his office, a staff of writers happy to do their work and eager to hear from him, and Danny was happier than he'd ever been. Matthew Albie had no complaints and he could shout it from the rooftops to Martha's eager ears.

"Want to come upstairs and meet my niece?"

"You mean my friend Harriet's baby? Yes."

"First and foremost," Matt argued, not waiting for the woman to fall into step beside him, "She's my niece. How have you been?"

"Not as busy as you, from the sounds of it," she said easily, "How's Harriet?"

"Her movie's coming out soon," Matt had plenty of training keeping his responses level but he had no idea why he was being facetious with Martha just then. Not last week had he told People Magazine that he was dating Harriet Hayes and he was hopeful, more sure than he'd ever been before. "I thought you weren't writing a love story."

"I'm not," Martha turned to face him on the top stair, Matt a few steps below. She seemed smug, all-knowing. "But maybe you should. Your contract's up next year, isn't it?"

Matt scoffed. "I wasn't exaggerating, Martha, the Studio is my home. I became me here. I met Danny here. Harry. I don't think I could leave."

"Who said anything about leaving?" they rounded the corner together as Martha spouted off suggestions for when to write his movies or a novel should he wish.

Matt shook his head, opening the door to his office where Danny and Jordan, and Harriet and Rebecca were and holding it open for the reporter, "I would like to have a life, Martha."

As he said it, his eyes fell on Harry and the baby in her arms, both women looking content. He felt it deep in his bones. That was where his future lay.