AKA It's me. Malcolm.

She flew, not with any finesse, not accurately but she made it across the divide. The landing rattled her teeth. There would be marks, deep ugly purple ones. None of it mattered because Jessica was pulling herself up and over the fire escape railing and finally stood in front of Madison Wu with nothing more than a pane of glass separating them. Jessica's chest heaved from exertion and excitement. She was prepared for surprise and fear but Madison's face only showed a feral anticipation, eyes as steady and compelling as candlelight. Slowly she pulled back the swaths of hair shielding her chest, the blue streak flashing then disappearing behind her shoulders. Jessica's gaze greedily wandered, absorbing the details of a slender neck, straight shoulders and the hollows above each clavicle. Madison's skin looked smooth and supple over the faint bands of chest muscle, paler over the slopes of her breasts. The faintest hint of lavender hung in the air despite the chilled breeze but Jessica hardly noticed. Instead, her eyes fastened upon small, high nipples that darkened and puckered, rising with every unsteady breath Madison took. The stark lines of Madison's ribcage crested over the valley of her stomach, disappearing into the shadow of a partially opened zipper. Jessica felt weak with the desire. Her eyes returned to Madison's face. Something dark passed between them. Madison reached for the window, hair tumbling forward as she turned the latches.

Jessica climbed in.

Face to face and alone, neither made a move. Balanced on the precipice between dark and light, danger and safety, each woman understood no one was leaving without some sort of scar. Jessica clenched her hands, either in restraint or frustration, or probably both. She inhaled sharply then moved forward.

"We can't."

It didn't register, at first, the rejection behind Madison's words. Jessica's eyebrows lowered, the small patch of skin between them compressed. "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

The anger was swift and hot, pouring into the spaces desire dwelled and the two converged, joined by their similarities. Gritting her teeth, Jessica closed the distance between them but Madison's hand, fragile upon her chest, had the force to delay the inevitable.

For the first time, Madison didn't seem in control. The dark eyes staring back at her weren't the ones from the club nor through the binoculars. They were warmer, softening as if in invitation for Jessica to look deeper. The abrupt change made Jessica shake her head. Vulnerable, Madison looked vulnerable and no matter how justified Jessica felt in holding onto her anger, her grip was weakening. There was a small tremor in the hand that slowly cupped Jessica's neck. Madison's thumb rubbed against Jessica's chin, perilously close to lips that were still infused with the ache to kiss her but less inclined to do so.

Distracted by the undercurrents, Madison's tone was vague. "This isn't my place. I…have no idea when they'll be back."

It was too much after so much.

Goaded by contradictory impulses, the rational thinking part of Jessica's brain simply shut down. She wanted to climb out of her skin, howl and rage like something wild. For someone tottering on the brink of frenzy, Jessica's movements were relaxed, almost tender. Her hand covered Madison's and guided it downward.

Madison gasped when her palm met the hard tip of Jessica's breast. Her eyes slid shut. A light sheen of sweat erupted over her upper lip. Every point their bodies made contact was a conduit for tremors, flexing muscles, and labored respirations. The silence enveloped them, broken by irregular breathing and occasional distant sounds city noise.

Their lips nearly touched as Jessica commanded, "Look at me."

Madison's eyes blinked open then her chest deflated, the escaping air warmly bathing Jessica's face. The muscle above her jaw was a slash of rigidity across soft skin as she ground her teeth. Anger and arousal glittered in her black eyes. Her fingers tightened around Jessica's responsive flesh.

Madison licked her bottom lip. "I want—"

The rest of what Madison was going to say was swallowed in a rush of parted lips and heated breaths. Whimpering, Madison squirmed closer and hooked a leg over Jessica's thrusting hips. When Jessica released the hold she had on Madison's wrists, the arms attached to them wound themselves around Jessica's neck. Fingers rifled through Jessica's hair, took hold then yanked her head back. Lips and teeth scraped against the sensitive line of her neck. Breathing came sporadically for Jessica, in soft pants and sharp intakes. Her hands explored the expanse of Madison's sinuous back, down to the small waist, cupping her ass and lifting her up. Instantly Madison's legs wrapped around Jessica's middle. They fell forward, locked together, slamming into the wall.

Without warning Madison wrenched her mouth away from Jessica's and whispered harshly as her hands braced against Jessica's shoulders, "We need to get out of here."

Comprehension took a minute. While Jessica struggled, Madison took advantage of her dazed condition and quickly put space between them.

"Look, it's not my place ok? I-"

Jessica shook her head, tried to reach for Madison but wasn't fast enough. "What are you talking about?" Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, guttural and deep. The haze in her eyes lingered and Jessica rubbed them with the heels of her hands.

Madison stooped to retrieve her jacket, shrugged it on and zipped it up. Her voice was shaky as she confessed, "I have no idea who lives here."

"What?" Blood still pooled in private places, she was having difficulty in following the conversation. "So, did you like break in?"

"I like to live dangerously." Amusement glinted in the dark eyes that held Jessica's. Madison's slender fingers smoothed an errant strand of Jessica's hair away from the corner of her mouth. "But I'm not the one 'able to leap tall buildings in a single bound', babe. I'm not getting out of here the way I came."

Jessica crossed her arms and glared but Madison's grin grew wider, genuine appreciation transforming her eyes to a warm onyx hue.

The sound of voices suddenly interrupted them. Someone was at the door.

Madison leaned closer and whispered in a voice tinkling with delight, "That's your cue to save me."

Stubbornly Jessica didn't budge.

The lavender scent was back, a mere wisp but no less heady. Jessica tried to ignore it but soon her lungs were filled, head spinning and the ache spread. Madison closed in, palms rubbing on either side of Jessica's waist.

Lips brushing against Jessica's jawline, Madison breathed, "You know this is exciting."

Something swift and powerful shot through Jessica's genitalia, nearly buckling her knees. Tiny beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, neck and chest. It throbbed within her until she was on the cusp of orgasm then receded as if it had never been. Panting and disoriented, Jessica's hand reached out and grabbed Madison's hair.

"What the fuck was that?" she hissed, none too gently.

The sound of a lock being opened added to the impending danger.

Throat exposed, head pulled back, Madison's fathomless eyes were still able to meet the accusation in Jessica's. "We're just starting, aren't we?"

The voices got louder. Sounds were coming from the other room making it very apparent the occupants of the apartment had arrived home. Jessica couldn't make out what they were saying, was only aware that the urge to escape began to beat louder in her ears. Without realizing it, she let go of Madison's hair and tried to get herself under control but her thoughts were sluggish.

Madison tenderly planted a kiss on the erratic pulse in Jessica's neck. "You have a minute or less to decide what you're going to do."

Rational thought and instinct jumbled up in her head. Jessica's body, poised like a predator, was flooded with endorphins. She gnashed her teeth then grabbed Madison's wrist and shoved her through the open window, quickly pushing it closed on her way out.

The main light was turned on in the room they just left. Jessica's entire body was tense. They had avoided detection but they were still extremely vulnerable to discovery. Crouching in the shadows with Madison protectively behind her, Jessica commanded her brain to formulate a plan. They couldn't stay on the balcony all night.

"Climb up on my back and I'll get us down."

Madison's eyes sparkled madly, the small grin on her face a reckless flag that should have made Jessica rethink the current 'damsel in distress' situation. There was no time, however, for second thoughts. Bracing her hands on bended knees, Jessica signaled she was ready.

Madison was flexible and strong, slim thighs squeezing around Jessica's middle. She hooked an arm under Jessica's, fingertips clinging to the natural handholds clavicles provided. Hunched over with her burden, Jessica managed to climb over the railing. While she tried to figure out a safe way down, they dangled, gravity sucking at their feet. Madison's thighs clung, her torso pressing into Jessica's back.

"How long do you think you can keep us right here?"

Before Jessica could respond, otherwise engaged as she was, Madison's free hand slid underneath Jessica's t-shirt.

"What the hell, Madison?!"

Suspended over concrete several stories down and vulnerable to hundreds of eyes that could witness their predicament at any given time, Jessica felt equal parts terror and exhilaration. Madison's cold hand moved up the crease of rigid abdominal muscles, fingers pushing past the flimsy sports bra. Jessica's breath disappeared. The metal railing she clutched began to cut into her hands but it was an inconsequential detail when compared to what Madison's fingers were doing to her breast, the nipple chiseled by cold and caress.

"Your skin's so soft but hard too." Madison's breath, moist and warm, puffed out onto Jessica's neck. "Holding my life in your hands, it's a rush, isn't it? So close to being discovered and…" Her voice trailed off as she moved her hand and cupped Jessica between her legs. Jessica's hips jerked.

Her fingers moved over the damp, stretched fabric, lightly scoring nails across its responsive surface. "Oh, someone loves this." Her thighs gripped tighter, heels digging into Jessica's hard thighs.

A whimper escaped Jessica's locked jaws. The window they had just went through reopened. A woman's voice was complaining about how someone could have just walked in and taken everything. Madison's touch changed, became insistent and fast and so deadly accurate, it was like the material wasn't a barrier at all. Jessica's eyes rolled back in her head, mouth soundlessly agape, hips twitching. Madison's teeth and tongue marked her neck, the heat of it a shock. Another voice joined the woman's, more masculine but Jessica couldn't make out the words over the roar in her ears. Their conversation floated above the tangled forms below.

Jessica managed to hold on and endure Madison's onslaught. The accumulation of sweat made it worse. She couldn't hang on indefinitely in spite of the gift. Her energy was being split between orgasm and survival and neither had the upper hand. Detachment, so sorely needed, fled. If Madison were a musician and Jessica her instrument, they were at the crescendo. There was no time to prepare. On instinct and with little choice, she let go.

They dropped through the air, Madison wrapped around her like an anaconda. The weightless sensation, the rush of air pushing against their skin was exhilarating and terrifying. Jessica curled and rotated her body then forced her limbs wide. She marshalled all her concentration upon slowing down the momentum. Their hair fluttered, no longer pulled back by the freefall. By the time sidewalk cracks came into view, Jessica's feet were preparing for the landing.

"You can let go now."

Madison jerkily slid off but needed to lean against Jessica's quaking body.

"Jesus." She whispered then laughed, almond eyes alight with fierceness. "I've been base-jumping. I've been skydiving. But that—"

They were standing in the middle of a dark alley, safe from prying eyes. Jessica, more recovered than not, took hold of Madison's shoulders and shook.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Where outward aggression wouldn't have changed Jessica's determination to find the truth, the scent of lavender insidiously could. Her heartrate was still high, still needed time to calm but it ticked up, a painful thump behind the ribcage.

"Does it really matter?"

Jessica growled, pushed Madison away. Wildly she looked around as she battled for some sort of control. "What kinda power do you have, Madison? I know you—you can make me feel turned on and I smell lavender and when it's strong—"

Softly she made a sound meant to alieve Jessica's distress. "I can't manufacture feelings."

"You can manipulate them, though, right? Jesus, Madison, stop with the lavender already."

But Madison didn't listen and as if to make a point or press an advantage, she dialed it up a notch. Jessica struggled with the desire, her body and mind protesting. Instead of the high flood of want pounding through her veins, Madison switched tactics, becoming slow and purposeful. Jessica felt boneless. Heart beating hard but not fast. The urgency was missing. In its place was a surety, an acceptance. Madison didn't try to conquer; she invited and acknowledged. Jessica's mind relaxed, her eyes drifted closed. She felt safe.

"We will have our time together, Jessica Jones."

When she opened her eyes, Madison was gone.

§

There was always a place to buy alcohol in the city that never sleeps. Completely screwed up, Jessica's main goal was to get a big bottle, lock herself up in the apartment and drink herself into oblivion. Without much delay, she made it back to her empty home carrying the bottle like a trophy. It was cold inside, a draft billowing the curtain over the window. Jessica ground her teeth. She marched across the room and shut it, eyes resolutely refusing to find the window where Madison had once stood.

Her hands shook even before the first drink. The cap skittered across the floor, rolling under a piece of furniture. Nothing left to do but upend the bottle and wait. So, that's what Jessica did to chase away the painful past and present. Yet, she knew it was coming, the darkness, the inevitable spiral that always lurked in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to kidnap her. Those Kilgrave memories had a long and powerful reach but, if she were honest, it was the PTSD that really came for her. Her heart skipped beats. Nerve synapses crackled with rapid transmissions. The freefall did it, reawakened Jessica's anxiety and fear. Helplessness lodged in her throat and despite how many times she swallowed, it wouldn't go down. Trembling, Jessica drank from the bottle. The room shrank. She thought she heard a noise in the dark and blindly twisted her body away from where she thought it came. Alcohol sloshed onto the floor as the bottle fell from her hand. There was a very small piece of her that realized she was about to have another episode but it was weak, silenced by the phantoms in her head. On hands and knees she crawled through the whiskey puddle. The bottle rocked, its contents like a miniature replica of an amber ocean.

Scrambling to her feet, she made her way into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She yanked down the shower curtain but the rod didn't hold and it came crashing down into the tub. Convinced there was a presence lurking near, Jessica swung out, her fist connecting with the mirror. The sound was a reminder, a trigger. When she looked at her bleeding hand, Jessica was back in the past with Kilgrave and that's when she started to scream.

Not much time after, Malcolm came bursting through the door, panic-stricken. Jessica didn't see him but saw someone. The terror in her eyes, the way her body shrank from him were signs he recognized if not understood from his days of drug delusions. Very carefully he backed away, palms displayed like twin white flags. If Jessica was out of her head, he didn't want to look like a threat or target.

"It's me. Malcolm."

His eyes darted to the red speckles and streaks, the mirror splinters and pieces. Fear shot through him and he experienced a second of retreat. Like a Hitchcock movie, all the threats never came into full view for very long. It was the things that came out of nowhere, swooping down unexpectedly that made Jessica's face contort with panic. He backed up, one step at a time, eyes never leaving hers. Hoarse and finally too heavy to carry, Jessica's screams tapered off but the crunch of shattered glass beneath his feet set her off again. The sounds she made were horrible like a dying animal in a trap. He could do nothing but stand witness and felt nothing but compassion. If she decided to make a run for it or lash out, Malcolm realized she could hurt him, perhaps badly. Yet, he could not walk away for how many times had she picked him up and carried him to the safety of his home? How many times had she stuffed money into his shirt pocket, pressed it into his palm? She had stood between him and complete destruction too many times for Malcolm to abandon her.

So, he stood watch, made plans in his head and waited for her to return.

§

Jessica kept busy in the next few weeks. Yancy Price's ex-partner, Guillermo, had been shacked up with a Cuban maid in Miami. The money he stole from their upscale bakery business had only been so much and not enough to finance the lifestyle Yancy's indulgence had provided. It was the typical, sad story. Jessica left it to Malcolm to break the news to Yancy and collect the remainder of the balance due. Mary Agnes's case lost steam, particularly after Jessica had stormed out of the room on the night she had made dinner. Malcolm had persuaded Jessica to return the down payment despite Mary Agnes' wish to no longer pursue Viktor's infidelity. Usually she wouldn't return a deposit but she counted it well lost if she would never have to see Mary Agnes again. Malcolm, on the other hand, still kept in contact but he visited her, knowing Jessica would not abide the other woman's presence. It was a sore spot between them but one they agreed to leave well enough alone.

Leamon Durst's quest to find the missing poetry student, while rather noble and romantic, crossed the finish line dead last. She had dropped out of college to live with one of her brother's friends who got a job in Alaska. Apparently, upon hearing the predictable news, Leamon burst into tears, swearing against future involvement with all women. When Malcolm tried to wheedle a portion of Leamon's retainer back, Jessica threatened to punch him, reminding him they were hired to obtain information which they did. How that information effected the client wasn't any of their business.

Jeri wasn't completely satisfied with the things Jessica uncovered about Warren J. He was actually kind of normal. Although, his penchant for collecting videos of men jerking off in public places clashed with his public persona. When she came across the selfies, Jessica couldn't help but laugh. Warren J was quite the spunk-monkey. Videos of him whacking off on the subway and on a hill in Central Park in broad daylight seemed to be his most favorite but one video, among the hundreds, stood out too much to be ignored. Warren J. filmed himself masturbating at a park, swings and teeter-totter in full view. Jessica was willing to bet it was coincidence but she knew Jeri wasn't going to spin it that way. She didn't need to prove Warren J was a pedophile, only that it was possible. Jessica's conscience tugged at her, of course it did, but she passed it along to her client anyway.

No jobs were currently on the books but Malcolm did have a few meetings lined up. There was a tidy sum in the bank account, peanut butter in the pantry, and the bills were all caught up. Life appeared to be running on a steady course finally. She went out to lunch with Trish or the movies with Malcolm. Sometimes she roamed the streets, camera in hand, looking through the lens at the world. Despite the outward normalcy, Jessica's life was hanging by a thread. Ever since that night Malcolm watched her with one foot out the door. She couldn't blame him. How he found her would have been traumatic for anyone. They never spoke of it but it was always there between them, sometimes glue and sometimes a wall. When it became bad, Jessica left, doling out casual excuses for abruptly leaving with impressive sincerity.

She lost sleep and made apologies, always careful to keep the anger, the despair in check around the people who loved her. Occasionally she would receive a text from Madison but she blocked every number they came from in hopes of fighting the need to see her. Because Jessica did want to see her again, was sick with the craving. Madison had special abilities and had used them on her which was enough for Jessica to sever ties. But. The scent of lavender hadn't crossed her nostrils since that night and Jessica had to believe her desire for Madison was real and not something Madison conjured for the sake of amusement. It wasn't love, at least not in the traditional sense but it was just as potent and Jessica was torn asunder by it. That was enough reason to leave it alone. Whatever Madison's motivations or feelings, Jessica was determined to never cross paths again.

Soon the time would come for Jessica to get help of the professional kind. Trish as good as told her it was the only way to fight. It wasn't that Jessica didn't believe her. God knew Trish was a better person for going through therapy. She was evidence personified but Jessica couldn't take the step, not while other options spread out before her like a useless banquet of plastic food positioned for a photo-op. Wasting time never looked so good, she knew, but courage was elusive. For now, going through the motions seemed to work.