Hello! After last week's sequence I just couldn't get this idea out of my head and had to write it down but I promise I am working on the next chapter of fywbym. Hopefully this angsty little one shot can keep y'all happy until then! Enjoy!

Jessica spins in the mirror for the hundredth time, reassessing the dress Ainsley picked out all over again. Not that she doesn't trust her daughter's decision, no, her intuition is normally on point. However, absolutely nothing can go wrong tonight. She has worked 21 years to have this night.

When Gil asked her to dinner out of the blue she'd almost dropped her tea. Sure they'd unofficially been dating for a couple weeks but dinner felt solidifying. A public statement would be made, tabloids would explode with headlines how The Surgeon's ex-wife has a new man in her life. It will be all over the news by tomorrow.

Oh, Martin would be so furious.

The thought makes her smile even wider.

Almost on cue her phone begins to ring, with her tongue pressed behind her teeth she checks the caller ID. Relief spreads through her at the picture that pops on the screen. She picks it up, holding it to her ear. "Couldn't wait to see me?" She teases with a flirtatious lull.

"Nope." Gil pops the end of the word and she can hear the giddiness in his tone. It fills her chest with a warmth that has been so rare over the past few months. It leaves her feeling like she should be dancing through the hallways like a drunken teenager. So carelessly free that her happiness can't be contained.

Even Malcolm and Ainsley have joined in on the feeling. They've shared family dinners with Gil at the table more than a few times now. Ainsley bouncing with glee at their hands clasped together and Malcolm sitting a little taller with each exchanged glance. Her family, at last, feels complete.

"I was just calling to let you know I'm running a little late. We're polishing off a case but I will be there as soon as I can."

"Oh, that's fine. I haven't even left yet. I want to make sure I look perfect." She passes by a mirror and checks her hair once again, fluffing the curls with her free hand.

"You would look beautiful in pajamas."

"You say that because you have the dream of me in one of your turtlenecks." His chuckle sends fire running through her veins and she bites her bottom lip.

"I prefer you with nothing on, actually." She stammers thoughtlessly, her brain short circuiting after being beaten at her own game. His laugh sends a blush across her chest and she coughs trying to pull herself together. "Did I actually just make a Whitly speechless?"

"Hardly." She purrs making a swift recovery from being thrown off track. "Just didn't know if you wanted everyone at your work to know."

"I don't care. Let them know." Now she really feels like dancing across the room.

"Oh, you're definitely getting a treat tonight."

"Promise?" Her laugh cuts off when she hears a door close from the other room. She pokes her head out the door of her bedroom and listens for a moment. "Jess?" She hears the line call out to her at the sudden silence. Sure enough she can hear footsteps coming from the main hall.

"Malcolm!" She calls out, "You really should have called to let me know you'd be coming. I was just about to head out!" She shakes her head when her son doesn't respond. She huffs pulling the phone back to her ear. "Sorry about that."

"Jess, Malcolm is still here." Gil's voice sounds apprehensive. "I'm looking at him right now." Her heart thumps heavily in her chest. She knows he has a window in his office and it makes sense that Malcolm would be there at least until he left, determined to see these cases all the way until the end.

"Well it can't be Ainsley, she goes on air in an hour." She tries to laugh away the anxiety pooling in her stomach. Something doesn't feel right. She shakes out her hand grabbing her clutch from her vanity. "It must be Adolpho. I have been taking much longer than usual." The half hearted noise Gil makes is indicative that he's not convinced. Truth be told, she isn't either. Adolpho had only ever come inside to check on her once and it was when Ainsley was so sick that she had to cancel attending a gala all together to take care of her.

She's just overreacting though, it has to be Louisa. Or maybe Ainsley forgot a file and came back to the house to retrieve it. Surely she's imagining that the footsteps sound heavier than she's familiar with.

Surely.

"Jess, stay there. I'll be there soon. Don't hang up." She could hear him gathering his things over the line and barking out an order to another officer about finishing up the file. He should bring Malcolm, she thinks absentmindedly. Just in case something were to happen.

She shakes her head trying to will the dark thought away. She's just anxious, is all. Maybe she hadn't heard anything at all. She rounds the corner of the dining room trying to compose her best annoyed look to mask her deepest fears. However it fell as quickly as it appeared when she laid eyes on the person standing there.

Martin stands in the middle of the room, his eyes tracing over the walls with an almost gleeful smile on his face. A brown jacket covers his white psychiatric ward uniform. Briefly, she recognizes the jacket from his office in the basement. It should have gone up in flames with the rest of his things; it made no sense for it to be there.

This has to be a nightmare.

That's it. This is a sick twisted nightmare from her subconscious. She just needs to wake up. Yet when he turns around to face her with that smile she stumbles back all the same. She crashes into the bar cart sending the glasses and bottles crashing to the floor with her weight. The pain that echoes through her side is a horrific confirmation.

This isn't a dream.

"I have to go." Her voice is thick, betraying the fear in her tone. She hears Gil try to fight but she hangs up anyways. Martin has always been jealous of Gil. It was probably safer to keep him busy until Gil arrived. Not let him know. However, when her eyes meet his she instantly regrets every choice she made.

"Jessie!" The nickname alone makes her feel sick to her stomach. She should have trusted her intuition. Run to the back and hid there until Gil came to get her. She should have listened, fuck. "It's remarkable how different it all looks. Love what you've done with the place."

"Martin-" Her voice barely comes out in a whisper. She swallows before trying again, "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm home!" Now she really feels sick, gripping onto the cart for the support her heels are denying her. He spreads his arms like expects something; what a hug? She shuts down the expression of disgust before it crosses her features. She stands up straight, steeling herself with a cold gaze. All the while her hand reaches behind her for something, anything to protect herself with. She feels a sense of calm when her fingers successfully wrap around the heavy metal shaker. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"

'No," She sighs. "That was just Malcolm." The lie spills off her tongue effortlessly. In any other setting she'd tell the truth and revel in rubbing it in his face. He tilts his head with narrowed eyes. If he senses that she's being anything other than truthful, he doesn't say. But he senses the lie regardless, of course the pathological liar would. She would need to do better than that.

"You're awfully dressed up to be spending the night alone."

"I'm not."

"Oh," His face darkens and she stumbles to find a new purchase.

"I have a meeting with the new investors of the Sanders' Foundation. I made a promise to Malcolm that I'd carry on Eve's charity after she passed. We're officially signing tonight. It's a celebratory dinner." It's not entirely a lie. She had that meeting last week, not tonight. When his posture straightens up she lets herself breathe a little easier.

"Well you look beautiful. Personally I've always preferred you in red, but the green is lovely too." She weighs her options as he steps closer. The shaker is heavy and if she's accurate she can stun him at least. From there her plans are null. Where can she run to where he wouldn't know about, that he wouldn't suspect from her. One of the guest rooms would work but she's outmatched if she gets caught.

It'd be safer to play along. "Can I make you a drink?" He glances down at the shattered bottles with a raised eyebrow. "I have more in the kitchen."

"Where is my boy?"

"Finishing off a case. Surely he talked to you about the-"

"The Candyman, yes I've been keeping up with Ainsley's broadcasting. Riveting stuff." He smiles, an empty one devoid of all emotion. "Where is she? I've been wishing to speak with her for," He sighs. "Well for ages."

Absolutely not. Her protective instincts shift into high gear. At least at the precinct Malcolm is safe from him, however she doesn't trust Ainsley's studio enough. She would not send him directly to her. No matter what it cost her. "Surely trying to get a closing argument from her brother that's actually on the record." Martin guffaws at that, the harsh sound causing her to jump. The sound stops as soon as it started when his eyes land on something new.

"Who's that from." It's not a question. His eyes are trained on the bracelet on her wrist. It's a simple thing, far less attention grabbing than anything else she'd worn in the past. A simple gold chain with two birthstones intertwined, Malcolm and Ainsley's. It'd been a birthday gift that she wore fondly.

From Gil.

"Jessie." The tone comes out as a warning. His eyes are trained on her but with his head tilted upwards his eyes are focused down. Like he's looking down on her. As if he has any right to the truth, much less to her.

A lie here would be pointless. He knows it's nothing either of the children would have gotten her. Gifts between the three of them rarely ventured outside of an expensive bottle of alcohol. Who needed them when they could buy anything they could possibly want? Truth be told, the bracelet having been the first gift she'd received in over 15 years brought tears to her eyes.

Of course she had to pick tonight to wear it.

"It's from Gil." She's proud that her voice doesn't shake with the statement. Her entire body is doing enough of that just standing a few feet from this man.

"You have a date." The last word spits out like venom. She tightens her jaw, anger blossoming beneath her chest. How dare he? As he steps forwards again she makes the split second decision.

She swings the cup with all of her might, ready to bolt as soon as she makes connection with his head.

She almost did. He, however, seemed just as prepared for the attack catching her wrist in his hand with ease. The cup clatters loudly to the ground as she drops it, all the momentum of her anger dissipating in a split second.

For a frightening moment they are chest to chest. She can feel his breath fanning her face while his unreadable gaze traces over her features. This close she's almost certain he can feel how fast her heart is beating, that he can read the fear beneath her rage, he can feel the tremor of her wrist clasped tight in his grip.

Three swift knocks stop whatever he planned to say or do. Strong, heavy raps indicative of the police at her doorstep. For a moment she's not certain that he will even react. His face an absolutely terrifying blank slate. Then a lighter, much more frantic knock.

"Mom!" She can hear Malcolm calling out to her. "Mom, open the door!"

She watches the switch in Martin's eyes, a teasing laugh escaping his lips. "Our children have always had horrible timing."

"I should get that." She whispers side stepping out of his way. Yet as she walks, he pulls her wrist back spinning her to face him again. He's making a decision, she recognizes in horror. Whether to take her with him or let her go. She bites her cheek so hard that she can taste copper on her tongue.

She would put up a hell of a fight.

She would lose.

He draws her hand to his lips pressing a kiss to it with a smile. "I've missed you. I'll see you soon." And he let's go.

She doesn't hesitate to see where he goes. In all honesty, it doesn't matter to her in the slightest as she rushes to the door. Safety is so close but the hallways feel like they stretch forever with Malcolm's pleading tone getting farther and farther.

Wrenching the door open to see Malcolm and Gil staring at her terrified feels like waking up from a nightmare. Malcolm crashes into her with a quick hug that she barely has time to return before he's rushing off to see what the hell had spooked her over the phone. Gil's face is stone, looking at her with a mixture of worry and annoyance.

He knows. Only one person in the world can scare her that much.

"Jess," He sighs, relief and comfort soothing her fears. "Are you alright?" She shakes her head, almost indecipherably as the tears finally slide down her face. All the rage, terror, and anxiety of the past few minutes crashing over her as she falls into his arms. Gil is the only thing holding her upright as she slips into the cascade with Martin's threat still ringing in her ears.

I'll see you soon.