Intervals, part 1

It's been a few weeks, and Tommy and Nick have settled nicely into their suite. Kate calls every day or two with updates on all the things she's doing, and all the complexities of getting the Cambridge rebuilt. At first, she acts like she's getting Nick's approval on things, but he quickly disillusions her, reminding her that he's paying the bills, but it's all hers.

They don't hear anything from Bailey for a while, but she gets their info and says she'll call them some time; Nick figures it for a brush-off since she never provides her own info. They've almost forgotten about her when the phone rings late one Saturday night. Tommy is closest, laying face down on the loveseat in the front room of the suite, her bottom wiggling back and forth seductively, a lacey white nightie all that stands between her perfect bottom and Nick. He's seriously considering flipping it up and fucking her silly, and she knows it. She squirms forward enough to hit the speaker button on the phone. "Aden residence," she chirps, sticking her tongue out at him and playing with the nightie.

"Hello?" It's Bailey, and her voice sounds disastrous. Something is wrong.

"Bailey, honey?" Tommy's face goes serious, and she sits up. "What's wrong?"

"Are you and Nick...available?" There's desperation in her, pain and suffering.

"Where are you?" Nick asks, standing up and reaching for his car keys.

"It's complicated," she answers; Tommy catches Nick's eyes, running a finger down her cheek and pointing at the phone. She's crying, Nick gets the message.

"We can come get you right away," he says, but Bailey interrupts.

"No, no, I can come to you," Bailey says quickly. "If that's okay, I mean."

"We always have room for you, Bailey," Tommy says, supportive.

"I...need..." Bailey stops, nervous.

"You need Sir," Tommy suggests, filling in so Bailey doesn't have to.

"Yessss," she whispers, barely audible. "It's not too late?"

Nick looks at Tommy, who nods vigorously. "Take a shower, get yourself ready, and come out to the Winchester. Tell the doorman you're heading up to the Lincoln Suite. We'll tell him you're coming."