“Who the hell---” Sydney muttered, letting herself fall off the bed and onto the floor. “In the middle of the night!”

She opened the door, yawning. “Nice PJs,” Michael commented, smirking down at her.

“Oh, God,” Sydney groaned, covering up another yawn. “Michael. As much as I love to see you…it’s the middle of the night. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Michael checked his watch, giving her an odd look. “It’s eight.”

“See? Ridiculously early.”

“I thought you’d be up for some breakfast,” he said, leaning against the doorframe and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t eat breakfast before noon,” Sydney replied, grabbing blindly at the open suitcase behind her (Adelaide’s) and pulling a sweatshirt over her head before stepping into the hallway. “Adelaide’s asleep,” she said, by way of explanation.

“You do realize you’re wearing a Spice Girls sweat shirt?” Michael asked, gawking at the sweatshirt and trying very hard not to burst out laughing and wake the whole floor.

“Oh, dear God,” Sydney muttered, falling against the wall. “I can’t believe she brought this. I got it for her years ago because she was freezing and had no money and…yeah. It’s been a joke ever since.” She plucked at the sweatshirt. “Spice Girls. God.”

Michael chuckled. “So you don’t want breakfast? I was thinking chocolate chip pancakes.”

Sydney moaned quite audibly and then covered her mouth in horror. She was practically salivating, and sadly not over Michael. Over pancakes.

“Ah ha. I knew those would get you. Go get dressed. I can wait.”

“I’ll have to shower,” she said, feeling unusually happy for the middle of the night.

“No problem. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Okay,” she smiled up at him finally. “I’ll be right there.”

*

“I still like the Spice Girls sweatshirt,” Michael commented airily, pulling out a chair for her at the table in the restaurant downstairs.

“I’ll have you know I took time carefully planning my ensemble. I was thinking to myself ‘What does one wear when having breakfast with an Olympic champion? What does one wear to have chocolate chip pancakes?’ It was difficult to decide.”

“I didn’t know that tank tops and shorts were chocolate chip pancake clothes.”

She beamed at him. “Ah, but what you don’t notice is that the shorts are black in case I drop pancake on my lap.”

“Oh, of course.” He grinned at her across the table. “That makes perfect sense.”

“You know, I never got a chance to congratulate you last night.” She was looking down, smoothing her napkin methodically across her lap. “So, congratulations; you did really well.”

Michael was watching her intently; he reached across the table and picked up her hand. “I meant to find you, but I got waylaid by a bunch of reporters and by the time I’d been Spanish Inquisitioned I was so exhausted, and I figured you probably had already gone to bed.”

Sydney looked up at him. “It’s okay. Really. I was just disappointed, I guess.” She shrugged and Michael let go of her hand; a lump was forming in her throat and she was reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in her head to try and stop herself from crying.

Michael ordered a heaping plate of chocolate chip pancakes for himself and a smaller one for Sydney at her request. There was silence for a long time, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“I heard you’re going to be on a Wheaties box,” Sydney said suddenly, a smile quirking her lips; she was trying to lighten the mood because it was odd to sit there with him and not say anything. She had never been at a loss for words around him before, that was for sure.

“Oh,” Michael laughed a little. “Yeah.”

“It’s the breakfast of champions,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Too bad I won’t be able to get a box, since I’ll be in Australia.”

“I can send you a box,” Michael stated, taking a sip of water. “I forgot you live in Australia.”

“I’m always home for the summer,” she said, clearing her throat and drinking some coffee.

“Where’s home?” Michael questioned curiously. “I don’t think you’ve ever said.”

“Probably not, as I’m not there very often. It’s not exactly home. I mean, my mom lives there with my older sister.” She sighed. “My dad left when I was little. It’s never really been the same since, which is probably why I chose to go to school in Australia. That, and the fact it has my namesake.”

Michael smiled warmly at her. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks.” She smiled back at him, feeling awkward. “Addy and I grew up in Michigan. Next door to each other. Our families…well…our moms were really close their whole lives, and Addy and I sort of take after them.”

“You live in Michigan?” Michael looked surprised; Sydney didn’t answer right away, as the waiter came and plopped a huge plate of pancakes in front of them. “I’m moving there. In a few months.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That’s so fantastic. I figured we’d never see each other again after this.”

“I guess we will,” Michael said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her.

“Well,” she said briskly, chewing on some pancake. “That makes this day a whole lot better.”