Because I have absolutely no idea how a court hearing might go, I missed it out. Sorry about that.
/-^1^-\ Following week. Monday. /-^1^-\
"I feel I should take this opportunity to inform you of some minor investigations I've been conducting," he said, "when Alison collapsed, it had been Dr. Brigshaw who simply said a very dismissive 'yes' when Alison asked if the contents of the bottle was just water.
"A more interesting point is why Dr. Mare would go out and buy tonic water and gin that morning, and put it in the fridge unlabelled - having looked at Dr. MacLeod's personal details and medical record the night before?"
"What are you suggesting?"
"Isn't that very convenient? I mean... my interpretation of that would be... attempting to harm her, maybe worse."
"That's awfully elaborate, Dr. Crane. I hope you realise the accusation you're making."
"I do. I had to check very carefully. I have evidence. The name on a search on her profile and a receipt disposed off in his draws. I don't condone my action but I had an awful feeling - it's what the police would have done, by which point he would probably be able to hide it."
"I have to take this further. Dr. MacLeod?"
"...Okay," she nodded.
"You're dismissed," said Dr. Penrose.
Alison stood and quickly left. Someone had tried to, like... kill her? Jonathan caught up and grasped her arm, turning her to him. She shook her head and wandered to her office. He followed her in and pushed the door too.
"Are you telling the truth?"
"You know I wish I wasn't."
"Why are you acting guilty?"
"I didn't realise it'd distress you this much."
"When someone has attempted to hurt you in such a drastic way, a life threatening way, and you find out without foreword, you don't lightly muse over it and let go, Jonathan!"
"I'm sorry. I got the log this morning though. I didn't have time to tell you and your shock was more genuine because you didn't know!"
"Was that a valid reason not to tell me?"
"You don't think rationally when you're mad," he said, sitting beside her in the chair, "I know no one does but I mean it heavily effects you," he said softly.
"Don't start caring, it doesn't suit you."
"If that is how you're going to be Alison, then I might just do as you ask, until you realise I want to care."
/-^1^-\ 2 weeks later. Saturday. /-^1^-\
"Have fun behind those bars you went and put yourself behind, fools," sneered Alison as Brigshaw and Mare were taken off. Sentenced. It was just perfect, Mare for attempted murder and Brigshaw for that and lying about... well, everything. Too see them punished was a whopping revenge.
"Ooh, little miss temper," laughed Jonathan as they left, going to put an umbrella up. Alison closed it quickly with her hands. "Are you superstitious?" he gasped.
"...A little bit," she said quickly. He didn't catch what she'd said but somehow knew she'd confirmed it.
"I hate courtrooms," said Alison plainly.
"Bad memories?" he asked, holding the door open for her.
"Not really. Just hate them. Too daunting," she lied. Jonathan rolled his eyes and put the umbrella up, hooking his arm around her waist. She sighed and didn't respond much to this action, looking out onto the roads.
"Are you still mad at me?"
"I'm stressed," she hissed, "I'm not mad at you."
"Sorry, the whole cold shouldering and everything..." he grunted. And still giving him Poison Ivy's medication to hand to her when the woman clearly wanted him... it was as if she didn't actually care about the fact it was obvious he liked her.
His general relationship with Alison was yo-yoing just like her temperament. But he was not turning back on it now - she'd given him more reason to feel attached! He felt like he couldn't help it no matter how much he wanted to, especially whilst she was in such a state - it was actually painful.
"If it hadn't have been for me you wouldn't even know and probably wouldn't even be here. And if I hadn't been in your office that day; you'd have probably died. Stop treating me like the enemy," he hissed. He just snapped for a moment.
"Stop!" she cried, turning her head from him. He cupped her cheek and turned her head back, softly brushing her skin with his thumb.
"I want you realise that I'm here for you," he whispered lowly, pouting with sorrow, "I'm sorry I got irate about that just then."
"I don't mean to be like this with you."
"I don't blame you one bit."
"Thank you," she whispered, burying her head against his chest as if she were trying to hide. He secretly liked it when she'd do that - it made him feel very powerful, as if there were immediate danger and he was the barrier between her and that risk reaching her. Frighten her now! Don't... she needs me, just as much as I still need her.
She picked herself up and dug in her bag and pulled out a cigarette box and a lighter. Jonathan snatched the lighter away quickly. It had never occurred to him on the three occasions he watched her burning letters with a lighter she might smoke; it would have been an obscure link to make. He'd never seen her smoking though; and she didn't look like a smoker.
"Instead of doing that how about you look to me and take out whatever anxiety-riddled mind-frying emotion you're feeling right now?" he suggested.
"Awh, are you that willing to soak up my anger?" she sneered. Yes, I am.
"Yes," he stated, glancing at his shoes. "Or maybe I just care about oral hygiene as much as I do mental health." A fantastic lie but it made Alison laugh.
"I just can't believe it. Why they'd do that. I'm having a hard enough time settling in as it is. I don't feel comfortable, not yet."
He pulled her back before she went to get a taxi and brought her close, glancing at her lips and then into her eyes. Back down to her lips for a split second. He resisted the urge.
"Jon?"
"Let's go do something. Or, if not... let me walk you home? It'll be nice."
"... What do you have in mind?" she smiled.
"Let's go get a coffee, we'll take it from there?" he suggested, taking her hand and putting them both in his coat pocket.
/-^1^-\ Same week. Sunday. /-^1^-\
"Do you know why I said I'd help you?" asked Jonathan, vigorously pressing the roller over the walls, smiling as pink changed to cream coloured. She'd wanted to go home yesterday to sleep to do her bedroom; so he asked if she needed a hand. She was pint sized, the job would exhaust her. He only wished she'd decided to do it on Saturday instead of a Sunday. Tomorrow at work would be achy.
"No, why?" she asked, doing the adjacent wall.
"Because I really hate your room. I came up when I said I needed the toilet and took a peek inside; I didn't need the toilet to begin with but then I did to go vomit. Does it not give you a headache?" he asked.
"Why do you think I'm changing it?" she laughed. She picked up a brush and dipped it into the paint pot, drawing on the walls with it just because she could. "Ta-Da!" she sang, waving her hands before the wall.
Jonathan turned around and burst out laughing. She'd written 'I love you, Jon' on the wall in paint. He used the edge of the roller and wrote a message back, simply saying 'thanks'. She gave him a hurt look and held her hands up in a heart shape and then split it in an imitation of a broken heart. He pouted and held his hands up, separated and put them back together. She shook her head and turned away.
He picked up the brush and wrote it even bigger on the wall he was doing 'I LOVE YOU TOO ALISON'. She raised a brow but remained slightly turned away.
"I LOVE YOU TOO!" he yelled, planting the brush down and approaching her from behind, grabbing her around the waist and squeezing her tightly in his arms. He shuffled back to the bed and landed back with her. They both had a few moments to laugh before they stopped. She turned to him and nestled a bit closer, so he took the chance to show some affection back and gently swept his fingers through her hair rhythmically.
"You do mean so much to me," she whispered.
"Don't imply you're forgiving me until you know you are. But you mean a lot to me as well. I'm so desperate to prove it to you."
"Well, you're winning," she laughed, "I am forgiving you, Johnny."
He grimaced and kissed her forehead gently, shutting his eyes as he kept his lips pressed there for a long time, feeling how intensely sensual it felt to be able to do that. It was ... amazing. Just one little sign could have such a powerful feel.
"We're not in the clear yet though."
"I agree," she whispered, "I can't be arsed getting back up..."
"Me neither," he laughed, "but we have to," he insisted, whipping up and pulling her with him.
If only she knew that he had problems meaning he can't be this gentle caring man all the time.