A/N: Shout out to Myystikal, Sorceress of the Trees, Poodle warriors, TheGirlWhoWaited, and CLTex for faithfully reviewing! Also anyone else who's reviewed that I left out! Thank you all so much for your feedback!

For future reference, I will attempt to update this story once a week, mostly so I don't put too much pressure on myself, especially as the holidays roll around.

Chapter 4 – Entertaining Tyrants Unawares

Spending the entire month of September in Hastings ultimately proved to be the best decision Madelyn had made in a long time. When she arrived back in London at the beginning of October, she was ready to jump back into her life with renewed vigor. She found an apartment over the weekend, downtown and walking distance from work, and had her things moved there from her grandfather's house. Kelly made a split second decision to move in with her, ditching her own flat at the university. The two of them had talked before about getting an apartment together, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

To Madelyn's surprise, she was welcomed back to work with open arms, despite the fact that she had missed the first month of the term. Because of her absence, she was assigned to lecture on an experimental course called 'Literature of the Tyrant,' replacing another lecturer who had not been meeting university standards. At first, Madelyn wondered if she was being treated as a 'replacement' because she was one of the youngest members of the university's staff, but she quickly realized this wasn't the case, that more was expected of her than she originally thought, so she sought to exceed every expectation.

The contents of her course delved into the written works of despots, kings, and dictators, who ruled everything from individual nation-states to entire chunks of humanity, in a time range that went as far back as the mid-1900s beginning with the infamous Adolph Hitler. Within a week of returning to work, Madelyn had her students analyzing assigned works for socio-economic policies, agendas driven by personal belief systems, and even military and political posturing that often contributed more to a ruler's rise or demise than was intended.

Despite the class' heavily politically-driven content, Madelyn was able to strike a balance between having her students analyze the literature itself as writing, and forcing them to discuss the political leanings behind each despot they read about. She hoped she could ultimately lead them to find threads of admitted personal shortcomings or egotistically-driven personality flaws revealed in the writing. The end goal of the class was for each student to have written a 'manifesto' of sorts, presented through the imagined perspective of any particular dictator.

For Madelyn, the ultimate joy she found in teaching such a complex and new sort of class was not in the actual historical content, but in seeing the creative abilities of each student blossom as they tried to understand exactly what it was that made a dictator tick. Several of her students were delving so deeply into their chosen historical figure that they actually came to her office one day to complain about how they were feeling disturbed by the mindset they were writing about, and that she should change her assignment in order to be more lenient towards their sensibilities.

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Madelyn merely insisted that because they were being disturbed by the content of their research, they must have been doing something right. She encouraged them to look into the more positive aspects of their chosen figure. After all, every man or woman could potentially have a weakness that might bring out a different side in them or open up another state of mind that offered different priorities.

As October flew by and morphed into November, word quickly spread throughout the university that Madelyn McGivers' literature class was one of the most difficult and most interesting undergraduate courses one could possibly be taking. She began to receive questions on a daily basis about what she would be teaching during the next term, but she could only respond with a friendly look followed by "whatever the department assigns me." Everyone knew she was the youngest lecturer at the school, but no one seemed to care. Clearly her future classes would be in high demand. Several department heads told Madelyn she could choose whichever courses she wanted to teach, and that if she was feeling brave she could even design her own series of courses if she was willing to teach them all.

By mid-November, Madelyn found herself with a teaching career that showed no signs of slowing down.

She hadn't heard from John Harrison since she'd come back to London, and she assumed Admiral Marcus had extended his off-world assignment. The plus side to that, of course, was that she also hadn't heard from Owen. She hoped the two men were getting along relatively well, though she couldn't help but wonder if John had found a way to shut Owen up. Not in a bad way, of course. She would never wish any harm to come to Owen. He'd never done anything to her, except act overbearing while constantly looking to spend more and more time with her, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

Madelyn found it curious, however, that she was even thinking about John. If he was back in London by now, there really wasn't a reason for him to contact her again. Nothing had happened to her, and there had been nothing suspicious in the news that could be remotely related to her grandfather's murder. Since William's apparent killer had himself been murdered on the same night, and the search for the third party had come up with nothing, there hadn't been a court case, and the media storm surrounding the events had quickly dissipated. As far as anyone was concerned, Madelyn McGivers was just a lecturer at one of London's top universities, not particularly well known for anything else outside her academic circles. And she was happy with that.

In fact, the last time she'd felt her life had been going so well, she'd been a twenty-three year old newlywed working in New York with Mark.

Now she was almost twenty-eight, single, and content with her career. Kelly had said that was all that mattered. Contentment. Madelyn had to agree.

But at the same time, she found herself missing John. Maybe it was because he'd been so supportive during those tumultuous few days surrounding her grandfather's death. He'd been the one to inform her that her life had been in danger, and had subsequently made sure she stayed safe, whatever that had entailed. She'd finally also been able to admit to herself that she'd found him more than slightly attractive. Whether he had picked up on those signals or not, she had no idea. He'd been so cryptic about everything that she felt like she barely knew him anyway, but he still lingered in the back of her mind.

And then one day, late in November, he appeared in the back of her lecture hall.

She caught sight of him when he first stepped through the back entrance, his tall silhouette framed by an unmistakable high-collared coat. He stood there like a statue, his hands in his coat pockets, watching her with far more intensity than she'd gotten from him the first time they'd met. Even from his position far across the room, she could tell he was listening closely to everything she was saying. It made her nervous, so to collect herself without making anything obvious, she posed a discussion question to the class based on the information she'd just finished relaying about an obscure figure named Khan Noonien Singh, and was able to let her students take over from there.

In his prime, Khan had ruled over a quarter of the Earth's population. His three year reign beginning in 1993 was considered an exception during the Eugenics Wars period as one of the most peaceful by modern historians, in comparison to the reigns of his fellow Augments—many of their nations were quickly ripped to shreds by internal conflicts, especially the short-lived Balkan state. However, Khan was best known for curtailing the freedoms of his subjects, and though the era of the Eugenics Wars was now so far gone that many academics didn't consider it a legitimate topic of study anymore, there were still some scholars who stubbornly continued the narrative.

There were published works proclaiming that, although Khan's intentions may have been noble, his means had merely proved that he was the desperate and egotistical tyrant, which twentieth century Western propaganda had painted him to be. Madelyn knew this much alone because she had written her dissertation on Augment literature before graduating from NYU.

She flashed a grainy photograph of Khan onto the holoprojector for emphasis, one of the few surviving physical records of the man's appearance. She knew he must have used his looks along with his charisma to garner himself support, and she had to admit he wasn't at all bad looking. Of course, all Augments had been specifically designed to not only be "better," but to look "better" as well.

He bore classic Indian features, jet-black hair, brown skin, a wide forehead, deep-set eyes, and a chiseled jaw. However the thing that stood out to her the most were his cheekbones, and she realized she found them so attractive because she'd seen similar ones on someone else. In fact that someone was standing in the back of her lecture hall, listening to everything and watching her closely. She took the inside of her lip in her teeth to keep from laughing at herself and directed her attention to her students' intensifying discussion.

One red-headed, green-skinned Orion student's stance stood out to Madelyn, and she encouraged her to continue when a few students scoffed at the beginnings of her opinion. The Orion girl defended Khan's overall political position of leadership, which had been one of absolute authority under certain conditions. She declared that although one of Khan's ultimate goals had been to bring peace to his region of the world at all costs, it had never been his intention to make decisions that ultimately and inadvertently assisted in genocides perpetrated by other Augments. She even brought up a section of their text to prove her point, including a short but moving speech which Khan had made the day before Belgrade, Serbia was hit with sarin gas (an attack later blamed on Khan by Western authorities, but never actually proven to have been his order).

Another student across the room loudly interrupted the Orion girl, accusing her of promoting Nazism by defending a genocidal war criminal. He argued that it ultimately didn't matter if Khan had inadvertently assisted in a mass murder, or killed them all himself, because it was still an outrageous act of war in a time when people were extremely sensitive to words like 'race' and 'blood.'

The dialogue after that quickly devolved, and Madelyn had to raise her voice louder than she would have liked in order to bring things back under control. In the resulting din of complaints and jeers between students, she chanced another glance at John, whose expression had shifted from intense interest to slight amusement.

Biting her upper lip to keep herself from berating the students who'd started the discussion in the first place, Madelyn decided to cut the class short, and quickly added that everyone would have to write a two-page opinion paper presenting their own beliefs on the brief but controversial reign of Khan Noonien Singh, including their reasoning behind their beliefs. Failure to do so would result in a twenty-five percent reduction in their overall course grade. The room let out a collective groan peppered with several unfortunate words, but Madelyn was satisfied she'd made her point. She didn't tolerate uncivil academic discussions, especially in a class that was supposed to be about the motives, means, and ends of leaders as revealed in their writing, not their morality. Her class was not a television talk show masquerading as the news.

As her students eagerly exited the lecture hall, Madelyn noticed John making his way towards her down the center aisle against the flow of traffic. As he drew nearer, he bumped shoulders with a couple students and threw an intense gaze in their direction when they hurried off. Madelyn avoided his gaze as he approached, flipping off the holoprojector and packed her PADDs into her bag. She wasn't willing to give him her full attention until she was ready to go, embarrassed he had seen her almost lose control of her class. It would be her luck for him to show up the day that happened for the first time ever in her career.

When he stopped with only a few feet between them, she chanced a look up at him and inwardly groaned. She could tell by the slight curve of his lips he was still amused at something, but she met his gaze firmly nonetheless, her lips pressed tightly together to show she wasn't pleased with that fact.

"Do your students always disagree with so much vehemence, or did you choose the topic of discussion on purpose to provoke them?"

She'd almost forgotten how deep his voice was; it shook her out of her initial self-consciousness enough for her to crack a smile. "It's good to see you too, John," she replied, implying that she wasn't impressed with the first thing to come out of his mouth after three months. "When did you get back?"

He lowered his chin a little, his smirk growing more apparent. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first."

He seemed to retreat slightly, but acquiesced smoothly. "Last night."

Madelyn nodded, then crossed her arms. "Well to answer your question, I don't provoke my students. In fact, that was the first time my class has ever gotten out of hand, and I don't intend to let it happen again."

She felt tiny under his penetrating gaze as he spoke. "I'm curious, given the nature of the discussion, what your own opinion is of Khan Noonien Singh?"

She shrugged, giving it a second of serious thought. "He made his way to the top through controversial means. Given the number of attacks and suspicious assassinations that happened during his reign, I probably wouldn't have been a supporter of his. But I think his motives were…" She paused, trying to think of a neutral term to describe how she viewed the overall circumstances that had surrounded Khan's three years of absolute power. He hadn't earned the nickname "The Augmented Tyrant" for nothing.

"I think his motives were understandable," she said finally, "given the almost constant state of war the world was in at that time. But I also think there were times where he would have been better off holding back. "

John's eyes narrowed. "So you would agree that his actions had merit?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "No one has purely selfless motivations. Besides, he was an Augment, and history shows us that Augments had a tendency to self-destruct. There was a reason the Federation banned genetic manipulation after the Eugenics Wars. Most people say the Augments were driven by ego, but I think it's more complicated than that. Anyway, I'm much more interested in figuring out what drove figures like Khan to act as they did, rather than be the morality police and declare that somehow everything he did was wrong because he came out on the wrong side of history. There are already plenty of people who do that on a daily basis."

He pressed in a little closer to her as she spoke, listening extremely attentively, but she pretended like she didn't notice, keeping her tone casual. "Why are you asking me this? Looking to go to grad school?" She added the last bit with touch of humor in her voice as he was clearly above that.

An air of indifference settled over him and he stared out into space for a moment. "Curiosity."

Madelyn stared at him as she realized she'd told him way more than she'd meant to and that he'd hardly said a word otherwise. "What are you doing here anyway? Things have settled down, I haven't had any problems, so there's no reason for you to be here."

His familiar vague smile appeared again. "Would it bother you if I merely wanted to get to you before Owen did?"

She swallowed, taking a moment to turn his words over in her mind. Of the things he could be insinuating by that, there was one she wasn't quite ready to accept, but at the same time she desperately wanted it more than anything. She pushed the thought away and gave him another look.

"So he's still alive?" she quipped lightly, scrunching her nose, of course not meaning it seriously. She recalled their last conversation at the cemetery.

John's nostrils flared as he scoffed under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. "There were moments when I wanted nothing more than to change that."

Madelyn winced a little, not realizing it had really been that bad. She didn't want to imagine being stuck working with Owen herself, but John appeared to be serious. "I didn't actually mean it that way," she said quickly. "I just thought he would be, you know, tolerable."

"That's a nicer way of putting it, but I would rather not discuss it further. To answer your question, I'm merely here to check up on you. I wanted to be sure nothing untoward had happened in my absence."

She tried desperately to restrain the small smile threatening to creep onto her lips, and turned to retrieve her bag so he wouldn't see. "That's very thoughtful of you, but I'm fine. Everything's been fine."

She turned again when she'd recovered from her moment of surprise.

"You're not very good at keeping a straight face," he remarked.

Madelyn bit down hard on the inside of her lip, her smile rushing forward. She looked away across the empty lecture hall, her cheeks growing hot. She couldn't believe herself, acting like a teenager in front of him. She was a grown woman, she reminded herself. She should have been able to control herself better.

She returned her gaze to him, noting with embarrassment that she was definitely the source of his current amusement. "I need to go to my office. I have a meeting in about five minutes," she said. "Was there anything else you came here to tell me?"

She swore she saw his tongue slide along the inside of his cheek.

"Not explicitly no," he said quickly. "Mind if I see your office though?"

"Not at all."

As they walked out of the lecture hall together, Madelyn wasn't ignorant of John's proximity, nor was she bothered by it. She wasn't sure she could admit that to herself yet; she wasn't ready to take that step.

"So how was it? Wherever you were?" she asked.

"Tolerable."

She had to laugh at the way he threw the word back at her. "That's it?"

"The work I do is highly classified. It would be unwise for you to ask about it."

She smirked at his seriousness. "Why, because you'd kill me?"

"No. But someone else might."

Her smirk vaporized and she quickened her steps.

"How was your time in Hastings?" he asked after they crested a flight of stairs.

So now he was asking her the same questions, and she had no excuse not to answer. This guy had nerves.

"It was good. This is my office." She motioned to the nearest door as they rounded a corner. Unlocking it and stepping inside, the lights flickered on automatically when they sensed her presence. She went over to her desk and began moving the contents of her bag into a locked drawer, glancing up when she realized John was standing close by.

"It was good?"

Madelyn gave him an eyebrow and returned her attention to the contents of her bag. "You didn't give me much of an answer—"

"So you elect to withhold information from me that will more than likely be innocuous, if only to spite me because I didn't answer your question the way you had hoped?"

Now it was Madelyn with her tongue in her cheek. He caught on quick. Too quick. Obviously she needed to explain herself.

"I'm sorry, it's just that Owen does the same thing. He'll tell me he can't talk about work, and then somehow he gets me to just talk and talk and I end up telling him way more than I should and…" She shut the drawer in her desk and rose to her feet to meet his gaze, though she was still looking up at him. "I was hoping you were different."

His eyes flitted over her face and then a smile crept across his lips. "Well, I certainly don't want to disappoint you."

She suddenly grew conscious of how close they were standing to each other, just as he turned and walked slowly around the room, his gaze taking everything in.

"Anything I tell you, you must promise never to repeat to anyone, especially Commander Gallagher, considering his position relative to us both."

Madelyn felt a slight thrill edge its way into her, partially because he had suddenly decided to exceed her expectations of trust.

"My lips are sealed," she said.

He went over and shut the door to her office, then turned and settled his burning gaze on her. "I know you're somewhat aware of Admiral Marcus' intentions to militarize Starfleet. He spoke with your grandfather about it on a number of occasions."

Madelyn nodded, watching him as he crossed the room, grateful suddenly for the desk that sat between her and his markedly changed presence. There was gravity in his voice she couldn't quite shake.

"Marcus specifically requested that I assist him in this endeavor," he said slowly. "I am designing weapons and warships for him. I was away for almost three months because I was personally inspecting every aspect of a new vessel I designed, which is currently under construction at a secret facility in orbit around Jupiter's moon Io."

He placed his fingers on the desk and leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"Breathe a word about this to anyone, and I assure you, if Marcus finds out, the consequences will be severe."

Madelyn was trying very hard not to break his stare. "My grandfather's money is paying for all of this, isn't it?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Some of it, yes."

She let that sink in. So that would be William McGivers' legacy: helping to militarize Starfleet. That was exactly what he wouldn't have wanted.

"What if I pulled the funding? What would happen?"

He tensed, an expression falling over him much the same as the first time they'd discussed this. She watched as his thoughts seemed to pass over his eyes at the speed of light, and was hit with that same sense that there was still something he wasn't telling her.

"I mean this hypothetically," she added.

That seemed to make him relax slightly, for whatever reason.

"You would be dealing with a very angry set of Starfleet officials," he said bluntly, "and you would be costing thousands their livelihoods, and potentially some their lives."

She swallowed and took a long breath as John straightened from her desk.

"Does that surprise you?" he asked.

She nodded slowly.

He tilted his chin downwards. "It shouldn't."

She jumped at a knock on the door, and laughed at herself quietly. "That would be Ella. She has an issue with my assignment," Madelyn explained. She made her way around the desk towards the door, and opened it to see Owen.

"Hey Maddy, I was just—what the hell?"

He suddenly pushed past her, forcing his way into her office.

"Owen, what are you doing?"

His attention was focused on John. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Madelyn saw the way John's face tightened as Owen glared at him, but Owen's behavior was more disconcerting.

"I was just leaving," John replied, making no effort to hide his displeasure as he walked towards the door, not even looking at Madelyn as he passed. She snuck a hand out and grabbed his coat behind her back, a gesture that Owen couldn't see, and John stopped.

"Owen!" she repeated. "What's going on?"

The blond man pointed a finger in their direction, his face red. "That man has no business being here. He's dangerous."

Madelyn let go of John's coat and went slowly towards Owen.

"He's my friend," she insisted, receiving an instant incredulous look from Owen, whose face snapped between her and John. The latter was still standing by the doorway, looking on with a hard expression. "Are you drunk?" Madelyn pressed.

"What? No, I'm not drunk. I was just coming by to say hi, since I was back. You didn't answer your phone."

Madelyn realized she must have forgotten to turn her communicator back on after her class was over, thanks to John's unexpected visit. She opened her mouth to explain but was cut off.

"Obviously you've already got company—"

"Owen, I have a meeting with a student in about thirty seconds. I can't let you do this right now."

"Do what? Maddy, I work with this guy. You should not be spending time with him!"

"Why? So I can spend more time with you?"

The silence that filled the room was stunning.

She couldn't believe she'd just said that, and neither could Owen. The surprise on his face turned to comprehension, and then anger. Before Madelyn could react, he took hold of her arm.

"Maybe that's not a bad idea," he said softly. "Why don't you reschedule your meeting and have dinner with me tonight?"

She knew her mouth was open, but she was too focused on the hand he had around her arm. She reached down and easily pried his fingers away, then stepped out of his reach.

"Commander Gallagher."

John's voice stole both of their attentions away from each other before Madelyn had a chance to respond with the cutting words perched on the edge of her tongue.

"Perhaps you should leave until you're able to calm yourself down enough to have a stable conversation with Ms. McGivers," said John.

Madelyn sent him a grateful look. Owen looked between the both of them, his upper lip quivering.

"Owen, please," she said, not even caring that she sounded like she was begging. She didn't want her student walking in on their practically domestic fight.

He nodded as though he'd had some sort of revelation. "Alright, fine. I'll go." He for the door. "Call me tonight," he said over his shoulder, storming down the hall.

As soon as he was gone, Madelyn's student appeared in the doorway with a PADD in her hand. She looked from Madelyn to John and back and hesitantly stepped through the door. "I had an appointment at four—"

Madelyn held up her hand, smiling painfully. "Sorry, we're gonna have to reschedule. Email me tonight and I'll get back to you, ok?"

Ella nodded and hurried from the room.

Madelyn heaved a sigh and sank into the chair beside her desk normally reserved for such meetings. She literally could not believe what had just happened.

"Maybe he's just pissy from being away for so long," she suggested after a moment. She glanced up at John. Some of the tightness in his features had worn off, but he didn't appear to be comfortable. He stood over her with just enough distance between them to leave her space. "He was pissed because of you. Is there something you want to tell me?"

He tilted his chin to look down at her closely. "Only that you should be careful around him."

She shook her head. "He's the second person to tell me that you're dangerous, that I should be careful around you. But I just don't see it."

A crinkle formed between his eyebrows. "Who was the first?"

His curiosity made her pause. "Admiral Marcus," she said.

That seemed to help him understand something, but she didn't know what. It was probably work-related knowledge. Maybe John was more brutal in a professional setting, whatever that entailed. She couldn't know, and she honestly didn't want to think on it further. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers, as though that would help her relax.

"I need some air," she said finally. "Maybe I'll take the long way home today. I need to clear my head." She stood up and began to gather her things, pulling on her coat and scarf, and shouldering her bag. "I just wish he wasn't so unstable sometimes. It's got to be because he's tired. You both have only been back for a day."

"You're trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but that's only going to come back and bite you," said John.

Madelyn headed out the door and locked it once John was outside. "You spent almost three months with him in space. You should know him pretty well by now. What do you think?"

"I've already told you."

She dropped her keys in her bag and looked up at him. "That I should be careful around him. Yeah I know. I've been doing that for years."

"Then I leave it up to your better judgment," he said.

She couldn't take him seriously when he wore a ghost of a smirk. She shot him a look and headed down the hall beside him.

If anything, she would try to stay away from Owen from now on. If it meant destroying their friendship, then that was what needed to happen. Owen obviously wouldn't back down now that he knew she and John were still in touch. Whether he had known previously hadn't occurred to her before, but the way he had reacted to John's being in her office had seriously put a dent in her ability to trust him.

Madelyn buried her hands in her coat pockets as they walked outside into the cold dusk, turning again to John. "I need to thank you for sticking around by the way, when I grabbed your coat. I don't know what I would have done in there by myself. To be honest, he kind of scared me."

She wasn't sure if she'd just admitted too much, but in reality she didn't have anyone else to tell who would believe her. John had witnessed Owen's behavior, and she was relieved when he nodded.

"In the time I spent with him off-world, Commander Gallagher exhibited a wide range of volatile behaviors. It surprises me you've been unaware of his instability until now."

She shook her head. "It's not that I've been unaware. I think I've been trying to ignore it. We went to school together. I care about him."

"If you care for yourself, you'll cut your ties with him," he replied, putting a hand on the arm of her coat.

She met John's gaze, half-wishing she'd never brought it up. Cutting ties with someone like Owen would be tricky, even if she wanted to. "I don't know if I can do that," she said quietly, still paying close attention to the way his fingers were wrapped around her coat sleeve. She swallowed and broke his gaze, an idea coming into her head suddenly. "Maybe if he saw me with you more often, he'd back off."

She hated the way it sounded the moment she said it. Not only could it hurt Owen, but it could potentially hurt her if she let her imagination wander too much. She realized how she felt about John, but she was pretty sure he didn't share her affection.

"You're willing to put up a ruse in an attempt to make Commander Gallagher jealous?" John raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."

"You made it sound like I didn't have a choice," she replied, looking at him with a faint smirk. "Do you have any alternative suggestions?"

He grunted. "None of them would meet your approval."

"Then I don't even want to know," she replied. This granted her a wider smile from John that she relished as long as it lasted. He was too stoic to smile much, but she was thrilled that she was the source of that rare look.

"Madelyn, perhaps it doesn't need to be a ruse."

She frowned slightly, trying to guess at what he meant. A sliver of an idea made something in her chest flutter and she shoved it away quickly.

He lowered his voice and shifted closer to her, conveniently blocking her face from the wind. "I want to see you again, if that's possible, but we cannot meet out in the open like this."

Madelyn fought to contain her grin and managed to plaster a cool façade over her face. Meanwhile she was running circles in her mind like a schoolgirl. "I'd like that, if you have the time," she said. "Maybe we could set up a specific place to meet, if being seen with me by someone in Starfleet is what you're worried about."

"It's what you should be worried about, never mind Commander Gallagher."

So he was worried for her still. That was enough in itself for her to want to hug him, but she resisted the urge and merely nodded. "I appreciate your concern. I really do, but I don't think it has merit anymore."

"You would be surprised," he said, his tone more serious.

"Well, in that case, I'll have you know that I feel quite safe when I'm with you," she said carefully. "I think we both know what that means."

Based on his subtle shift in expression, he did, and she smiled because of it.

"I'll contact you when I can," he said. "Marcus has an infuriating habit of assigning last minute tasks. He likes to make it hard for me to predict his next move."

"Sounds like he knows how to do his job," said Madelyn.

John didn't respond, but merely grunted, his face tightening in that way that told her he wasn't happy to dwell on the subject.

Maybe Marcus had warned her he was dangerous because the two of them didn't get along. Maybe it was a power struggle. One day she'd get to the bottom of that, if only to honor her grandfather's memory. His money was going towards things he wouldn't have supported, so it was only right to have a better understanding of that system.

She shivered as another breeze brushed passed them, then glanced down and realized John was still holding onto her arm. She looked back up at him but he clearly had no intention of letting her go yet.

"It's getting cold," she said. "I should head home." She pulled gently against his grip until he hesitantly relinquished it, but she couldn't help but smile slightly even as she took a few steps away from him. "You'll contact me, right?"

"Of course."

As they parted ways, Madelyn smiled to herself and wondered where the next few weeks and months would take her.

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