A/N: In the first Murder, She Wrote book, Gin and Daggers, by Jessica Fletcher and Donald Bain, Jessica went to London, and helped to solve the murder of her friend, Marjorie Ainsworth. This is the first novel where George Sutherland is introduced. Seth and Mort also travel to London, as they are worried about Jessica. I began to wonder what would have happened if she had returned home and realized that Seth had become jealous of George, and this story is the result. I don't own these characters or the plot of Gins and Daggers. I just love them!

Jessica Fletcher sat outside on her back screened-in porch early one morning soon after her most recent return from London. She held a cup of hot tea and was still in her robe and pajamas, her cozy socks and slippers on her feet.

It had been difficult to get out of bed this morning and had been this entire week. She had struggled through her writing schedule each day, making it difficult to focus. But today was a Friday and she had decided that she would let herself play hooky. Truth be told, she had gotten stuck yesterday afternoon with her manuscript and she simply did not have the heart to try again today.

Jessica had arrived home a week ago after helping to solve the murder of her good friend, Marjorie Ainsworth, in London. Marjorie had been the queen of murder mystery novels right behind Agatha Christie. Jessica had been invited by her friend to stay with her briefly before a convention that she was due to be speaking at. The night she arrived, she had heard a noise from her friend's bedroom, only to discover Marjorie had been stabbed to death.

From that moment on, it had become a whirlwind that Jessica could not slow down from. While her heart had been broken by her friend's murder, the desire for justice took over as it often did when she became involved in solving a real-life crime. But unlike most of those past unfortunate occasions, Jessica had been a prominent suspect in the murder during this investigation.

Because of Marjorie's celebrity status, Scotland Yard had been called in to investigate, led by a man named George Sutherland. He was from Scotland, six feet tall, well-dressed, and he had the most gorgeous green eyes, the exact shade of Granny Smith apples, she had ever seen.

Jessica had been captivated by him, as she realized he had been by her, even as she also understood that he considered her a realistic suspect for the majority of the investigation. While that was unsettling and drove her to aid in the investigation as much as she was allowed, it was far more unsettling to realize her increasing attraction to George.

Especially, as Mort and Seth both appeared in London after hearing about the murder, which frustrated her, even as it made her heart grow warm, knowing they traveled there because they were genuinely worried for her wellbeing.

Once the murder was solved, Jessica had not had the opportunity to process her own emotions, for there had been too many at first to shift through. She was far better at dealing with logic and fact, solving puzzles and finding solutions to problems. This was why she was so skilled at writing, as well as why she was often pulled into real life investigations.

Emotions and feelings? Those were much more difficult for her. Oh, she had plenty of them and she didn't try to deny them either. Rather, she knew that they could hinder her when she needed to maintain her ability to reason, so she would push them away until a later time.

Knowing that she had continued to compartmentalize as she had locked those feelings away for far too long this time though, it was now past time to unlock the sadness and grief over Marjorie's murder. She had suppressed everything for over two weeks and she felt tense. It had been so long that she had held everything in that she was overwhelmed and even afraid to deal with it all now.

Jessica believed that people often had no idea how difficult it was to be her during a real investigation, especially on the occasions when she discovered the deceased. She assumed people thought she could handle the gruesome experiences, because she had discovered so many bodies, as well as the fact that she did spend her days writing about murders. Yet, every single time it was jarring to find a murder victim, no matter the circumstances. While most understood that finding someone who had been stabbed or shot or maimed in some other horrible way was traumatizing, especially if there was evidence of a struggle with a lot of blood, showing the person died in pain, people had no idea that often the harder victims for her to find, were the ones who looked as though they were simply sleeping. Because those victims brought back too many painful memories of losing Frank.

Those memories were the ones that Jessica forced away and refused to think about until she was alone and safe in her own mind, because she refused to think about losing Frank in public anymore. It had always been hard and now several years later, it had become too private. As the more time that went by, the more others could not understand the lingering effects of grief. Instead, she had become skilled at gathering those feelings and hiding them in her heart until it was safe to consider them alone.

This morning, she was alone. After going non-stop in London due to both the investigation and the mystery writers' convention, she was back in her quiet home in Cabot Cove. Hidden here on her back porch, sitting in her rocking chair with her tea, she was protected from all the outside forces and people who sought her time and attention.

Finally, she could take care of herself.

Slowly, she began to allow herself to remember finding her friend dead that night. She tried to move past the gruesome images in her mind as fast as possible, instead allowing herself to feel the sadness and grief for the loss of her friend and colleague. Marjorie had always been such a gracious friend, always encouraging of Jessica's own talent and skill, even though Jessica knew that her talent paled in comparison to Marjorie's own. Murder may be entertaining within the field of fiction, but in reality, it was such a waste of life, both for the victim and the villain. The ripple effect it had on their families, friends, and communities was vast and difficult to comprehend.

Jessica felt the tears form and tilted her head back against her rocking chair, feeling freedom to allow them to fall.

Keeping her eyes closed, she recalled many phone calls, letters shared, and visits made when Jessica traveled to England. There were many good memories and she knew that she would always remember Marjorie fondly. She was grateful that she had the privilege to know her and call her a friend, and that was so much what life was about, wasn't it?

The most difficult part for her was that her friend had been killed by family in such a violent way. The person who Marjorie should have been able to trust was the one who betrayed her. Jessica hoped that Marjorie did not suffer and even more so, she hoped that she did not realize who her killer was in the dark bedroom that night, as she believed it would have been that much more painful in the last few moments of Marjorie's life, if she had.

Death was part of life. She wished it were not, but there was no way around it. The wealthiest and most powerful people in the world succumbed just as the poorest and most destitute did. Death was the great equalizer. All anyone could hope for was that it would be peaceful and as pain free as possible. Or the antithesis of how Marjorie had died.

The main point of life, in her mind, was love. To love and to be loved. Not just romantic love, although there was certainly nothing else like it, but all types of love. The love of family and friends were more common, but no less important in her mind.

However, Jessica knew deep down that part of what was difficult about the past week or two was the understanding that, if she desired, there was the possibility for her to experience romantic love again.

When Frank died a number of years ago, she had thought the desire for romantic love was in the past. She felt that her own heart had died when he did and she did not ever want to experience that pain ever again. She was not afraid to die herself, but she knew that she would be incapable of loving again without fearing that the person she loved would die before her. She would not be able to live in denial of that reality the way she had done during most of her marriage to Frank, causing her to shut herself off from any possibility of even thinking about falling in love again. The innocence of youth and thinking she had all the time in the world with the man she loved was long gone.

People thought she was strong and independent, but really she was a coward who had gotten efficient at keeping armor around her heart.

Which brought her to the part of her feelings and emotions that had given her panic. The feelings that George Sutherland had stirred in her core. She was startled and shocked when she felt the attraction at first, which increased two-fold when she realized that it was reciprocated.

There had been several times she found herself smelling his cologne when he stood close to her or felt a tingle race down her spine when he touched her back to lead her through a door. She had caught him staring at her a few times, even once, she noticed him looking her over from head to toe. She thought she would feel disrespected or even outraged, but she couldn't, instead hoping that he liked what he saw.

While there was interest expressed between them and an understanding that they would attempt to see each other again whenever she returned across the pond, she never really considered it as anything more than simple attraction and an innocent flirtation.

But this week, upon returning home, she had felt different around Seth. At first, she thought he was his normal grumpy self for no real reason. But as the days went on and he came over at least once a day, usually in the morning for coffee and breakfast before they both went their own ways for work, she realized that there was something more afoot. When he was in a mood, it was rarely due to anything she had done, even if he took it out on her occasionally. She was tough and most of the time, she would let it roll off her. On the rare occasions that he crossed a line or hurt her feelings, she made sure he knew, and he usually apologized.

This week had been odd though and it had culminated during dinner last night.

Jessica had made a large pot of clam chowder and Seth had brought dessert and fresh bread. They had worked together in the kitchen, getting everything dished out before they sat together at the table.

Everything was delicious and they focused on eating. But when Seth got up to get a second bowlful, he slumped back in his chair a bit with a sigh that sounded dramatic and irritated Jessica.

"Alright, out with it, Seth."

He felt his ire go up, "What on earth are you talking about, woman?"

"You know exactly what I am talking about, Seth."

He tried to appear confused, so she mimicked him, getting back in his chair, slumping back in the seat, and gave an exasperated sigh that may have been even more over the top than his own.

"Is that how I look?"

She nodded, staring at him. He stared back, but he caved first as he tried to figure out what to say, opening and closing his mouth several times before getting anything out.

"Jess, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Since we got back from London, I have been kind of low, realizing that…"

"Realizing what, Seth?"

He was uncomfortable, but she continued to stare him down until he spoke again in a harsh whisper.

"Realizing that…I lost my shot with you."

"What in heaven's name does that mean?"

"I saw the way you looked at Sutherland, Jess. And I certainly saw the looks he gave you…I have been a fool to…well, no matter. If you will excuse me, I think I should head home. It's been a long day."

"Seth, we aren't finished talking!"

"Let me go home, Jess," he said softly, and before she realized what had happened, he was out the door, leaving his still steaming chowder bowl behind. She could have sworn before he turned away that there were tears in his eyes.

There had been no doubt in her mind this morning that Seth would not come by as he had all week. He would avoid her until he hoped she would let whatever this was, evaporate. Understanding that, she had known that she had to flesh out everything that was going on in her mind. The intensity of emotions had reached her threshold and she could not wait any longer.

She sighed, staring ahead at nothing in particular, her tea grown cold in her hands.

Last night was what she did not want to think about the most, but she knew she must think about now. There was no way she could lose Seth. The thought alone was terribly disconcerting. Even horrifying.

Seth was the most important person in the world to her.

Seth was her friend. 'Friend' is such an odd word though. Just as the word 'love' is used to differentiate everything from the deepest passion a person feels to liking a type of food, friend is used by everyone from acquaintances to people who are closer than flesh and blood.

Actually, Jessica considered Seth to be her best friend. She wondered absently, if he viewed her the same way.

Even though he was a man, being a doctor, she had always been able to talk to him about anything over the years, from the bitter loneliness and grief of losing their spouses to even hot flashes caused by menopause.

They were contemporaries. Cut from the same cloth of their generation, even though Jessica was a few years younger and far more evolved and forward thinking than Seth would ever be. But that suited them both fine, never trying to change the other, because the undercurrent of their relationship was a deep, abiding respect for one another.

Jessica had never contemplated that there was anything more than friendship between them, even as she knew that their deep friendship was meaningful and invaluable to her. She trusted Seth to always be truthful with her. Furthermore, she trusted him to protect her, both from physical harm and even emotional harm as far as her heart was concerned. He was always a gentleman to her. Hadn't they spent many cold winter nights alone in her house? She never worried about anything inappropriate happening, even though the ladies at Loretta's always hinted that he loved her, sometimes even making rude comments alluding to a possible love affair between them. However, besides the occasional hug or kiss on the cheek, he always left to go home to his own bedroom before midnight except for the handful of New Year's Eves they had spent together, watching the ball drop on her television while sharing a glass of bubbly.

Yet, Jessica had suspected for a long time that Seth loved her. She knew she loved him, but she had never considered if it could be romantic love.

Although what would stop them from romantic love if they wanted it to be?

As she considered it this morning, she realized that she did believe they could become romantic with one another, but she had never been inclined to attempt it, because what if it didn't work? Cabot Cove was a small town and although she knew Seth and her were adults and would be alright regardless of what happened, she hated the thought of people in town knowing it didn't work out.

That didn't seem like her though. She didn't gossip and didn't appreciate being the focus of the gossip of others, but she never made decisions based on what others thought of her. She had a mind of her own, and she trusted her own decision making and would never choose to do or not do something because of outside forces. Nor did she ever avoid something because she worried about failing.

So what was it?

Fear? Possibly. But of what? Of a relationship not working? Or was the fear that it actually might work?

Could this be the last hurdle to letting Frank go perhaps?

Since Frank had died, not only had she completely shut down the part of her life containing romance and passion, but she had not even been interested in dating anyone even in passing. The little flirtations with George in London were startling because not only were they unexpected, but they awakened the desire in her that she no longer thought herself capable of at this age.

'Use it or lose it,' is the saying and she had definitely not 'used it' in years, so 'finding it' over the last couple of weeks had been extraordinary.

As she continued to contemplate though, she realized that although she enjoyed meeting George and would perhaps go so far as to consider a date or two with him if they lived near each other, it was not love at first sight. There was certainly no attachment to him; she just met him.

So, why did Seth assume that it was? And if he saw them flirt, why did he think he had no chance with her now? Did he want a chance at her?

While she had shut that part of life down after Frank died, she knew deep down that she missed it. She missed having that special someone in bed at night beside her. The knowledge that someone who loved her wanted to share their life with her. And she had no problems admitting that she often felt the absence of making love which brought its own pain to her heart.

The whole thing was unsettling and she knew it was getting late in the morning, but as she was under the shelter of her back porch, she continued to stay secluded, thinking.

She was mature enough to realize that while the passion and excitement of falling in love felt fantastic, it was not always sustainable. Nor was it necessary to have a satisfying relationship. She understood that choosing to love someone and choosing to be with someone could perhaps be even more powerful than falling in love, because choice denoted agency and not some odd combination of youthful hormones.

She did not hear his car pull up, nor did she hear his footsteps on the pathway beside her house. But suddenly, she was aware of his presence all the same.

Seth was dressed in his navy dress pants and white button down, with his tweed blazer and hat, complete with navy bowtie.

Jessica was very aware of her own appearance and the lateness of the day.

He had not seen her when he stepped onto the porch, as she had remained motionless. But when the screen door slammed behind him, he jumped when the sunlight was no longer in his eyes and he saw her sitting there, still in her pajamas, robe, and slippers, a mug of tea grasped in her hands.

"Jess, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Seth."

"But it's past one o'clock and you are still in your robe," he said, gesturing to her, concerned she was ill.

"Sit down, Seth," she commanded, waving him to the rocking chair next to her.

She knew he wanted to argue, but she stared at him and he gave in.

There was silence for a few moments, both of them dealing with their own inner conflict. Jessica sat her cold tea on the side table. There was no longer any need for that. She was tempted to offer coffee to Seth, but knew that they needed to hash this out now. Any interruption and they would lose the tension that had to build to get them to talk openly about what was going on between them.

She knew that it was imperative that they talk and the sooner the better.

"I didn't expect to see you this morning after last night, Seth," she said, looking over at him, shifting in the rocking chair, clearly uncomfortable.

"It's not the morning, Jess."

"Don't try to deflect. I'm glad you did come, but why?"

He had taken his hat off, giving his hands something to hold and move back and forth.

"I need to apologize for my behavior last night," still not looking at her.

"Why?"

"Why? I walked out in the middle of dinner!"

"True. But you were upset and it seemed like you were taking care of yourself…although I wish you would have stayed and told me what was bothering you."

She waited, but he said nothing. Content to wait him out though, she began to rock in her chair slightly, staring out to the backyard, giving him time.

He kept shifting in the chair, appearing unsettled and anxious. After some time, he sighed, saying, "You are going to make me tell you, aren't you?"

"I hope you will, but I can't make you," she said softly.

"Jess…it was really hard to watch the two of you together. I'm sure he is a nice enough man and I can see why you would find him attractive. He is tall and fit and doesn't have much gray hair. But I felt like a third wheel, even with Mort there, and certainly like a damn fool."

"Why, Seth?"

"I think you know."

"I need to hear it."

"I have loved you for years and dreamed that you would someday feel the same way. I suppose I got jealous seeing you flirt with him. Even though I think he would be a better match for you."

"Why would you think that?"

"He solves murders for a living in London and you write world-famous murder mysteries. Seems like a good fit."

"And that's what it takes for a good relationship, is it? Career compatibility?"

"No! But I am sure it doesn't hurt. Besides, you seemed to like each other."

"We did, but just because we did, doesn't mean that anything will happen or even that I would want it to. I just met him, Seth. And he lives an ocean away. Besides…he isn't you."

She turned her head to look at him, but when she uttered her last sentence, his head flew up to meet her eyes. Deep glittering blue eyes staring into warm hazel ones.

"What does that mean?"

"Seth, I love you. I have loved you for years. You are my best friend. I have never considered being in a romantic relationship since Frank, but what I have realized this week is that I want to be open to the possibility. And if I am, there is no one better suited for me to be with than you."

She could see his eyes widen and while she wanted him to know she was serious, she also needed him to understand that she was not rushing to anything permanent yet.

Holding her hand out to him, he clasped it as though it was a life raft.

"Seth, I don't know if I want to get married again. Or even be in a permanent relationship. Yet. But I believe that many relationships exist based on far less than what we already have. I suppose, what I am saying or maybe what I am asking is, will you take me on a date?"

"Jess, I would be honored."

Smiling, she stood up, and moved over in front of him, questioning him with her eyes. Staring at her in wonder, he understood what she was asking without words, shifting so she could sit on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Staring into his eyes, she gazed down at his mouth, before moving closer, an inch away, before murmuring, "Is this okay?"

Almost growling, he grabbed her arms a bit roughly, pulling her to him, unable to wait any longer to taste her lips. She kissed him back eagerly, nibbling on his bottom lip, easing his mouth open, gaining access with her warm tongue.

Pulling away after another long moment, she looked up at him coyly, from under her long lashes, "Seth, I do hope you will take advantage of me sooner rather than later."

Shocked, he stuttered, but all he could get out was, "What?"

Moving to his ear, she kissed his neck, whispering, "My father and brothers aren't around to chaperone anymore and I don't have any virtue that needs protecting."

She smirked at his face as it became bright red, displaying a range of emotions from shock, embarrassment, and dare she hope, desire?

She started to stand up to prepare for the day and hopefully, a date this evening, but he pulled her back firmly on his lap.

"Jess, wait. I don't just love you…I adore you. Maybe you aren't a…virgin anymore, but you have a sterling reputation that I will protect."

"Seth, you love me. I love you. Both of us have been married."

He nodded dumbly.

"From what you have always said, you and Ruth were happy, just as Frank and I were. I assume that extended to the bedroom. Is that a correct assumption?"

Again, he nodded.

"So, we both love each other and we both had fulfilling sex lives in the past. Why should we wait once we are ready? Mind you, I am not suggesting it will be after our first date. I'm not that kind of girl," she teased. "But…when we are both ready, and I expect it won't be too long from now," pausing for greater effect, before she added with a wicked grin, "to hell with my reputation."

He smiled in wonder, even as he felt overwhelmed at the direction the day had taken. He could not believe her attitude towards her reputation, even as he knew better than to argue when she had that look in her eye.

Staring at him, she tilted her head, before she asked, "So, where are you taking me on our first date tonight?"

"Wherever you would like to go, Jess. Paris? New York? Nowhere is good enough for you." Reaching to caress her face, he added softly, "Anywhere with you is where I want to be."

"In that case, let's just get some takeout and neck on the couch."

His dumbfounded expression made her giggle, as he held her tightly against him.