Michael was watching as Sydney towel-dried her hair after her shower; he’d loaned her a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that were about six sizes too big for her, but it did the job. One of her hands was holding onto the waistband of the shorts and the other was holding the towel; Michael was grinning at her, positively amused.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Michael asked, sitting on the edge of his bed and watching as she slung the towel back into the bathroom. “To face Adelaide?”

Sydney sighed deeply, throwing her wet hair into a messy bun. “I should probably go alone.” She smiled at him. “But thanks.”

Michael nodded. “I’m going to hop in the shower, then. I haven’t got a swim until tonight, though. Do you want to meet up for lunch?”

She dropped down onto the bed beside him, resting her head on his shoulder; he laughed slightly and put his arm around her.

“You want me to go with you?” His voice was low, undemanding, and exactly what Sydney wanted; she just wanted to sit there, like that, forever, just listening to him speak so softly and sweetly in her ear.

“Yes,” she replied quietly, feeling like a little kid as she buried her face into his chest. “I’d like to just stay here all day.”

Michael laughed against her hair as his arms folded around her. “That sentence has connotations that are not appropriate for the daylight.”

Sydney smirked. “You’ve seen me naked.”

“Yes. And?” She shrugged against him, breathing in his spicy scent. “You don’t want a peep show, do you? You’ll have to get me drunk first.”

“Why?” Sydney requested, sitting up to look him in the eye. “You wear speedos in public, Mister. And they’re extraordinarily low on your hips. Obscenely low.”

“Wearing a speedo is not the same as being completely naked. And they’re aerodynamically superior to the full body suits,” Michael replied in his defense, rubbing her back in slow circles that made her knees weak; she was glad she was already sitting down.

“That’s not what Ian says,” Sydney argued lazily, grinning. “And if you don’t stop rubbing my back, I may have to jump you.”

“Is that so?” Michael asked, smiling slowly as he continued to rub.

“Yes, it is.” She buried her face in his neck, her breath soft against his skin. “I want you to come with me.”

Michael giggled. “I’m ticklish there, you.”

Sydney joined in his giggling. “After I have it out with Addy, can we come back here?”

“Yes,” Michael answered slowly. “And do what?”

“I have several ideas. None of which I can utter in the daylight.”

*

Michael, having showered and dressed, escorted Sydney through the village and to her hotel; the ride up in the elevator was tense and silent, and Michael took Sydney’s hand and held it. She smiled weakly over at him, glad to have support. Even if it was she who should be supporting him at the moment…but that would wait until the pool.

Adelaide answered on the fifth knock, dressed in a long t-shirt that was not hers; her hair was a mess and all over the place and snarled, and she had mascara smudges under her eyes. The last time Adelaide had worn mascara was about 1987, so Sydney looked at her in confusion, blinking several times.

“Hi,” Adelaide stated, looking nervously back and forth between Sydney and Michael.

“Hello,” Sydney replied curtly, having forgotten that she was supposed to be apologetic. “I came to apologize for my behavior as of late,” she said, matter-of-factly, almost as if she was in court and trying to get a plea bargain. “I realize that I have been inconsiderate of your needs, and self-centered to the point of destruction. Furthermore---”

Adelaide interrupted. “Sydney. We’re not on Judge Judy.”

Sydney had not expected to be interrupted so soon into her argument; she stood still, her mouth open as she stared at Adelaide. She closed her mouth suddenly and began to continue with her well thought out (in the five minutes of her shower) case.

“While I was not satisfied nor happy with the things you said to me, I realize that you were in the right. With at least some of the stuff you said. I wasn’t being a very good friend. I really haven’t been a good friend from day one, and I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention to you and realized you have been distraught with me for sometime.”

Adelaide shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest as if she was cold. “That’s not true. I just flew off the handle.”

“Yes. Well.”

“I’m not really sure why I was mad, even,” Adelaide admitted, frowning.

“No, well, that happens quite a bit, I believe,” Sydney replied knowledgably. “Often when two parties have a fight, the party at fault apologizes and the other party isn’t sure what to say. Or maybe neither parties know what to say.” She sighed. “Dammit. I had this all worked out. Let me backtrack.”
“You could check your law books,” Adelaide commented stoically.

“Thank you, Adelaide. I’ll do that. Good day to you.” Sydney spun on her heal and whisked Michael down the hall.

“Sydney,” Adelaide called, laughing. “Stop.”

Sydney turned back around, and Michael felt like he was being hauled about like a sack of potatoes. “I’m just sorry,” Sydney said, forgetting to use her lawyer voice. “That’s all I can say, really. I’m not sure what you want to hear.”

“Me either.”

“Well, I can see this isn’t going to be worked out over a cup of coffee and a croissant,” Sydney said crossly, pressing the down button the elevator.

“I just think maybe we need some time apart,” Adelaide offered feebly, closing her hotel room door and walking down the hall toward Sydney. “I felt like I couldn’t do anything without your consent, and you were always in control. It was driving me crazy.”

“I’m sorry you felt like that,” Sydney stated emotionlessly. The elevator dinged and opened, and Sydney pulled Michael on. “I’ll see you later. Maybe.” She pressed the button for the lobby and as the doors closed, Adelaide muttered something; Sydney thought it sounded like “I’m sorry” but it could have been anything.

*

Sydney collapsed on Michael’s unmade bed in the formation a diver might use on a particularly difficult dive.

Michael closed the door and walked over to her, laughing. “That was pretty good form.”

She rolled over so she could face him. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

“No. But I’ll be fine.” Her stomach grumbled rather loudly. “I’m hungry though. I should go find something to eat.”

“I can order some room service,” Michael offered, picking up the menu from the bedside table.

“I don’t want to stop you from training and whatnot.”

Michael smirked. “I need to eat, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that settles it.” He ran a finger down the breakfast menu. “Pancakes?”

“I’d say yes, but I’ve had so many this week that I will turn into one by the time I get home.”

Michael laughed. “Hey, why don’t you go take a bath?”

Sydney raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

He shrugged. “That’s what my sisters do when they don’t feel 100%.”

Sydney chuckled. “A bubble bath sounds quite good, actually. I don’t suppose you have any bubbles.”

“I think there might be some in the basket in there. They’re not mine, of course. They were complimentary.”

Sydney kissed him on the cheek, smiling. “Of course.” She started walking towards the bathroom. “Michael Phelps.”

He turned around, giving her a critical look. “Yeah?”

“You rock.”

Michael laughed, shaking his head as she closed the bathroom door behind her.