It was well past Midnight and Grace was exhausted.

Mr. Warbucks, she thought, looked rather maniacal behind the low light of his desk lamp. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot with the strain of keeping them open.

"Right…that's enough", she said as sternly as she could. Surprising him as she suddenly rose from her seat at the desk.

"We haven't finished calculating the projections for the next three months for Pittsburg", he responded defiantly.

Grace stared him down. "Mr. Warbucks, you are not going to be of any use to anyone if you're overtired. I fear we may start making mistakes if our brains become any more clouded."

"My brain is perfectly sound, Miss Farrell", he grumbled in reply.

She tried to roll her eyes at him but they were so heavy they slipped closed for a second instead. "You've written that same figure three times, Sir."

He frowned as he stared down at his notebook and saw that she was right.

Grace leaned over the desk slightly to speak directively to him. "None of this can be put into action until morning anyway so you might as well get a few hours rest."

He shook his head. "Rest? How can I rest when the world is in a state of complete unrest? When the government isn't doing a damned thing to help?"

Grace sighed tiredly. She had begun to grow weary of him continuously blaming the government for the crash. Perhaps their inaction had led to things becoming as catastrophic as they were now in the year 1930 but initially the government had not had any hand in the devastating decline of the economy. But now was not the time to begin a political argument with him. She was more concerned about his well-being.

"Please Sir, I worry about you."

Oliver's brow was creased as he looked up at her concerned face. "There are many people in this world who are worried at the moment, Miss Farrell. Worried sick in fact. No jobs, no money coming in, no food on the table. I am far from being in their predicament."

Grace swallowed back tears at his words. He often tried to portray himself as self-focused and tough, but at the end of the day, Grace knew he had a humanitarian side that shone far and above any of those other traits.

"And who is it that can help them? It is you. But you can't help anyone if you won't help yourself first." Grace pleaded with him, becoming quite emotional in her overtired state.

Oliver bowed his head. "I'm not accustomed to failure", he told her honestly.

"You're not failing if you're trying", Grace told him wisely and he raised his eyes to hers before leaning forward in his chair to switch off his desk lamp.

He sat in darkness for a moment, his voice quiet as he asked, "Will this ever be over?"

Grace walked around his desk to speak to him softly in reply. "It will, in time."

"I fear it may be time we don't have", he said gravely.

Grace crouched down in front of him and placed her hand on his knee. "Please come to bed, Sir", she croaked tiredly.

Despite the somber mood he was in, Oliver raised his eyebrow playfully at her, with the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips. Grace's mouth dropped in surprise at his suggestiveness and she gave his hand a smack. "To your own bed where I will then leave you."

He stood up slowly, a slight grin on his face, which was wiped off as he felt himself sway dizzily on the spot. Grace grabbed his arm in quick reaction, holding him upright.

He cleared his throat. "I think you may have been right to suggest we turn in. I'm feeling a little woozy."

Grace looped her arm tightly through his. "There. Now if one of us falls, we'll go down a united front."

Oliver laughed hoarsely, enjoying her humor, despite their tiredness.

They clambered up the stairs arm in arm, leaning heavily against each other.

Oliver opened the door to his room and waited for Grace to go in ahead of him. She stepped into the large bedroom and then closed the door softly behind him as he entered.

Oliver went and sat on the edge of his bed and removed his shoes and socks, swaying unsteadily on the spot as he did so. Grace meanwhile, went to his dresser to fetch a set of pajamas for him. She walked back over to his bed and placed them down beside him. He stood up to remove his jacket and Grace took it from him, carrying it to his wardrobe where she hung it on a coat hanger. She stood facing the wardrobe, absently straightening his clothes as he dressed into his nightwear.

It was rather an unconventional routine for a boss and his employee, but Grace had become more to Oliver than just a member of his staff. She was a confidante and companion to him as well. He had come to trust her implicitly and to depend on her for many things.

The night of the 29th of October, 1929, Grace had all but carried him to bed as he could hardly carry himself. In shock and despair, feeling totally helpless and without control following the infamous Black Tuesday stock market collapse. She had stayed with him in his room, speaking words of comfort to him until he fell asleep.

They had repeated this procedure on several occasions since. When Oliver was overwrought and Grace could tell he was burning out, she would act as the voice of reason for him, offering him sage advice and much needed care.

He did of course have a full staff to run his home and cater to his needs, but none of them cared for him the way Grace did.

It was her job, of course, but she cared for him out of much more than just duty.

"You can turn around now, I'm decent", Oliver's raspy voice said to her and Grace turned to see him dressed in his well-pressed pajamas. She picked up his clothes off the floor and placed them on a nearby chair, while replying to him "Well, that's debatable." She turned her head to shoot him a cheeky smirk while he looked back at her with an amused and surprised expression.

No one else in his staff was comfortable or familiar enough to tease him or enjoy the same gentle sword playing with him that Grace did. Everyone else in his employ accepted this though. They were all well aware how close Grace and Oliver had become.

Their banter was playful, most especially in times of strife and struggle. A way to lighten the mood, which Grace seemed to be able to do so effortlessly. Although there were many times he yelled at her or became frustrated and argumentative with her, Grace never was hurt by it, only concerned for him, because she knew that his reactions were rooted in stress and not really aimed at her.

For the most part, he was a very charming and pleasant man to be around, she felt.

Oliver did often feel guilty though, for all the times he was less than kind to her. He didn't know why she stuck around half the time. What had he done to deserve to have such a wonderful, caring, compassionate person such as she in his life?

Grace pulled the thick comforter back and waited for Oliver to climb into bed. She pulled it up again to cover him, just as a Mother would tucking in a young child. There were nights these past two years when Oliver had been so vulnerable that that's how he had felt, like a child, uncertain and afraid and craving comfort.

He looked up at Grace and lifted his hand out from under the comforter to grab her wrist gently. "Thank God for you", he told her softly but sincerely.

She smiled sweetly at him, sitting down gently next to him on the bed and flattening the covers down around his chin. "Well, it's you who gives me purpose in this world, Sir. So thank God for you too."

He blinked slowly up at her, affection and admiration so clear in his eyes.

Grace lifted her hand to unnecessarily adjust the lapel of his pajama shirt before reaching up to stroke his head soothingly.

This was the reason she stayed with him. Because he needed her, and it was such a grand thing to be needed. She felt extremely privileged to be the one he felt he could depend on, and to know that should she need someone to depend on in return, he would be there for her too. She knew that in her heart.

He began to breathe deeply, closing his eyes to let sleep take him over. Instead of getting up to leave, Grace sat there beside him in the dimness of his room, not wishing to end the precious, intimate moment. A song came to her mind as she looked down upon his restful features. The song was from a broadway musical she had accompanied him to the year before. One of the many perks of her position. She had loved the show and was very pleased when it had been released as a film earlier this year. Of course, seeing how much she'd enjoyed the show, Mr. Warbucks had taken her to see the movie too.

Oliver had not courted a woman since long before Grace came to work for him. He claimed to have no time for such things, but he did still want to enjoy life - operas, ballets, the occasional polo match. He detested going to these things on his own however, and so having no one in his life romantically, it was Grace he invited more often than not, to attend with him. He enjoyed her company, and she always greatly appreciated the experiences.

She absent-mindedly caressed his warm head to comfort him as she tried to recall the words to a song she had especially loved from the show, which had resonated with her as she watched from the audience, seated next to the richest man in the world..

"The moon belongs to everyone

The best things in life are free

The stars belong to everyone

They gleam there for you and me

The flowers in spring

The robins that sing

The sunbeams that shine

They're yours, and they're mine

Love can come to everyone

The best things in life are free"

Her rendition of the song was soft and slow as can be, wishing to make it as relaxing as she could, and as she looked down upon her employer's face, she saw that she had achieved the result she'd wanted. Oliver had fallen asleep, lulled by the sound of her sweet voice.

She gazed upon his peaceful face with a thoughtful expression on her own. He had all the money in the world, but sometimes she wondered if deep down he might have desired something more than just that. Money could attract a friend, or a wife, certainly. But love, true love, was not something that could be bought.

She would surely put no price on the love she would give to him if only he would accept it. A foolish notion, she knew, for what would Oliver Warbucks want with a love like hers anyway? He'd said time and again he was interested in business and in making a profit. Building relationships only mattered to him if they also served one of those purposes.

But she did love him and it simply couldn't be helped. Even if she knew that by loving him, she would forever be in love alone.

With a sigh, she lifted her hand from his head and rose from his bed. Leaving the man of her dreams to dreams of his own, which she was certain, did not include her.

She pulled the door closed behind her and it shut right before she could hear Oliver release a contented breath, on which he murmured a single word of yearning.

"Grace…"