Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 11 ‘Alone Time’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Threat of non-consensual spanking of an adult, and mention of past non-consensual spanking of a teen.

Don’t Scare Me Like That - S1xE11

Gil rushed out of Claremont Psychiatric Hospital while calling the precinct. Most of his team, along with most of the FBI sent to catch the Junkyard Killer, were on their way back from a cabin in the woods, and wouldn’t be back to the city for at least half an hour. Gil himself wouldn’t make it to Jessica’s house for at least fifteen minutes, but hopefully there were a few squad cars in the area that could reach her sooner.

Once someone answered, Gil gave instructions to send all available units to Jessica’s house to catch the Junkyard Killer before he could kill Bright, Jessica, or Ainsley if she was home. When he was about five minutes from the house, he got a report that the suspect was in custody, and that there were no casualties at the scene.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he found he still couldn’t slow down. If anything he went even faster.  

He parked, and rushed into Jessica’s house amidst several other policemen and FBI members going in and out.

One of his men recognized him and said, “Ambulance is almost here.”

“Where’s Bright?” Gil asked.

The officer pointed towards the sitting room.

Gil found Jessica hovering between her two children, both of whom were being assessed for life threatening injuries by the cops on scene. Ainsley had a head wound, and Malcolm looked awful. The entire left side of his shirt was covered in blood, and his left hand was wrapped in cloth.

“Gil,” Malcolm said with a tired smile.

“Thank God,” Gil said to himself as went to Malcolm. He would have pulled the kid into a hug if he wasn’t being examined. Instead he settled for putting a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “The ambulance will be here any minute. Where are you hurt?”

“Stab wound lower left abdomen, and a broken thumb.”

Gil gripped Malcolm’s shoulder tighter, and then looked over at Jessica and Ainsley, “And you two?”

“Head wound,” Ainsley said.

“Enough emotional trauma to last a lifetime,” Jessica said. "But no physical injuries." 

Before Gil had a chance to say much, the EMT’s arrived and went to assist the injured. Gil moved to Jessica’s side, and pulled her into a hug. Partially to stop her from fussing over her children while the EMT’s did their job, but also because he needed to assure himself that she was safe.

# # #

Malcolm woke up momentarily confused. He was in a hospital bed. He looked down at his left hand and saw a cast. Right. They’d had to operate to set the bone after he’d smashed it with the hammer to get out of those handcuffs. He used his right hand to feel his stomach. There was a large patch over the area where he’d been stabbed.

A male voice to his right said, “Twelve internal stitches to close up your intestines, and six external.”

“Gil?” Malcolm focused on the older man sitting in a chair beside the bed, and then glanced around for his mother.

“Ainsley just got discharged, and Jessica is taking her home. We weren’t sure how long your surgery was going to last, so I told her I’d call her once you were awake.”

“Thanks, Gil.”

Gil got up and sat on the edge of Malcolm’s bed. “But before I call her, you and I need to have a little chat.”

“Chat?” Malcolm frowned.

“You scared us to death, kid. Your mother was beside herself, and I…” Gil shook his head and looked down at his lap for a moment before focusing back on Malcolm. “I blame myself for letting you get away with things that I’d never let any of my officers get away with without repercussions.”

Malcolm shook his head and said, “No, that’s not—”

Gil spoke over him. “You tracked down a lead in the Junkyard Killer case after you’d been taken off it.” Gil held a fist out where Malcolm could see it and put one finger up. “You didn’t let anyone know where you were going, or what the lead was.” He put another finger up. “You took a civilian with you.”

Malcolm protested, “He was—”

“Was,” Gil reiterated firmly. “Shannon was a cop, but when you took him into a potentially dangerous situation, he was a civilian.” He put another finger up, making it three. “Then you had the audacity to hang up on me before giving me your location. You could have, and should have stayed on the phone for three more seconds to at least give me an address.” Gil put a fourth finger up, before putting his hand down.

Speaking earnestly, Malcolm said, “It’s not your fault, Gil. The FBI couldn’t make me follow protocol either. That’s why I no longer work for them. And now I suppose I no longer work for the NYPD either?”

Gil shook his head. “Wrong, kid. You still work for me. The FBI might not have been able to make you follow protocol, but I can.”

Malcolm glanced at him skeptically.

“From now on, every time you refuse to follow protocol, I’m going to punish you.”

Malcolm’s eyebrows furrowed. “You can’t punish me in any conventional way, because I’m technically not one of your employees, so…”

“What did I do when you were brought in for underage drinking?”

Malcolm’s eyes opened wide as his brain put two and two together. “I was fifteen! You can’t mean—”

Gil leaned forward, “I mean that as soon as the doctor gives you the all clear, I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you.”

“Gil!” Malcolm protested. His entire face turned red, and he glanced around to make sure no one else was in the room to overhear the threat. Glaring at Gil, Malcolm whispered fiercely, “Contrary to what my mother may think, I am an adult.”

“An adult who can’t seem to follow the rules. Correct me if I’m wrong, but after I spanked you, you didn’t touch another drop of alcohol until you were twenty-one.”

“Yeah, because I was hungover and miserable the next day, not because you spanked me once I felt better.”

“Tell yourself whatever you want. It won’t make a bit of difference, because my mind is made up. When you break protocol, I spank you. Starting retroactively in a few weeks when your stomach is all healed up.”

“Don’t you think I’m in enough pain as it is?” Malcolm asked. “If you think the pain from a spanking will deter me from—”

“It’s not about causing you more pain,” Gil said.

“I seem to remember not sitting comfortably for the rest of the day,” Malcolm groused.

Gil smiled fondly at him. “Yes there will be some pain, but that’s not what makes you change your behavior. I don’t even think it’s about the embarrassment, although there will be plenty of that as well. It’s about knowing that you’ve disappointed me so badly that I feel the need to resort to a physical punishment to correct you.”

Malcolm winced. “Gil,” he said plaintively, clearly upset by that statement.

Gil patted his leg and moved back to the chair beside the bed. “You think about that for the next couple of weeks while you’re healing up. I’m calling your mother to let her know you’re awake.” Gil got his phone out and dialed Jessica’s number. He hoped that the threat itself would keep the kid out of trouble while he healed, because he’d hate to add on to what the kid already had coming.

The End

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 12 ‘Internal Affairs’. Several of the lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Don’t Disobey Orders Again and Again- S1xE12

Gil considered himself a patient man. He had to be while working for the LAPD. He knew how to keep his cool when a suspect taunted him or yelled obscenities. But everyone had a breaking point, and no one knew how to push his buttons like the LAPD’s consultant profiler, and Gil’s pseudo son, Malcolm Bright.

Before Gil even made it to work, Bright, who was supposed to be on administrative leave, stopped him in front of the precinct, and practically demanded to be put on a case.

“Absolutely not.” Gil said firmly.

“Gil, please, I need a case.”

“What you need is a leave of absence.”

“I told you, I’m fine—”

“Fine?” Gil cut him off. “Watkins tortured you.”

“And I emerged unscathed!” Malcolm declared.

Gil’s eyebrows furrowed with disbelief while looking at the cast on Bright’s hand.

“Well, scathed.” Bright amended. “Moderately scathed.”

“You’re going home, Malcolm.” Gil used the kid’s first name to help him realize how serious he was about this. “Rest, recuperate. That’s an order.”

Malcolm pouted, and before he could continue to argue, Gil got out his phone and made a call. “Dani, could you come out front please? I need you to give Bright a ride home.”

“I don’t—” Malcolm started.

Gil held a hand up to stop any further protests. “Yep, he sure did.” He hung up and said, “Powell will be right out to take your ass home, which is where I want you to stay.”

Gil waited with Bright until Dani came out, knowing he very well might wander off before Dani could arrive. Once his problem child was being escorted home, Gil started his day.

Less than half an hour later, they had a murder case. He called Dani to give her the address, figuring she’d had enough time to drop Bright off. Little did he know that she was still at Bright’s loft, and that the stubborn kid was listening as Dani repeated the address.

An hour later, Gil, Dani, JT, and Edrisa were all at the graveyard investigating a body that wasn’t supposed to be there.

To Gil’s shock, Bright came walking onto their crime scene about fifteen minutes after Dani got there.

“Gangs all back together,” Malcolm said with a grin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gil demanded.

“Should you be back at work?” JT asked with concern.

Edrisa came running up. “Bright, you’re back. Seven abdominal stitches and a fracture to your first metacarpal, and you still look great.”

Everyone stared at her, and she muttered, “I may have pulled his medical records. I was worried. But you’re here now.”

“I am here.” He glanced at Gil. “So… let’s go take a peek at this body?”

Against his better judgement, Gil let Bright take a look. His thought process had been to let the kid do an initial profile, in the hopes that it would satisfy Bright’s itch, and then send him home yet again.

Once they were done looking at the body, Gil told Bright to go home. Reminded the kid that he was on administrative leave, and that he didn’t want to see him at the precinct again for two weeks.

Three hours later, Bright showed up in the autopsy room just as Edrisa was about to tell them her findings from the autopsy.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gil asked for the second time that day.

Malcolm gestured to Edrisa, “She told me she’d completed the autopsy.”

Gil turned his glare to Edrisa. But the woman wasn’t even looking his way. She only had eyes for Bright as she started explaining what she’d found.

While they were talking about the victim, they discovered that his last payment was made to a place called Vosler Institute.

Bright pointed out that Vosler Institute had many attributes of a cult, and that it was on the FBI’s cult index. Once Bright gave them the updated profile, they all decided the next step was for Gil, Dani and JT to go to Vosler and talk to the leader, Quentin.

Then Gil told Dani and JT he’d meet them out front, told Edrisa she needed to get his approval before inviting anyone to another autopsy, and then dragged Malcolm out to the hall by his good arm.

“You seem agitated,” Malcolm said.

Gil kept going and soon they were in his office. He let go of Malcolm, closed his office door and then gave the kid a glare. “I’ve told you to go home three times now, Malcolm. That’s three times that you’ve disobeyed my direct order. How do you think that makes me look to the rest of the team?”

Malcolm’s congenial smile that he tended to wear when he was in trouble suddenly dropped at that last statement. He shook his head, and for the first time all day he seemed actually remorseful. “I didn’t think about that.”

Gil shook his head, got into Malcolm’s personal space and said, “Go home, Bright. If I have to tell you again today, I’m going to unofficially suspend you for a month.”

“A month!” Malcolm shook his head vehemently.

“Yes. A whole month with no cases. And that’s after the two weeks of leave that you’re damn well going to take!”

Malcolm winced as if Gil had hit him, but then nodded. “Yeah, okay. I- I’m sorry. I’ll go home, and I’ll even go to bed. I can’t go without this for a month, Gil. I just can’t.”

Gil put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “And you won’t have to go without it for a month if you start listening to me.”

Malcolm nodded in agreement, and Gil walked the kid out to the street, hailed a cab, and even gave the driver Bright’s home address before shutting the cab door.

Relieved to have that unpleasantness out of the way, Gil went to meet his team and visit Vosler Institute. Unfortunately, Quintin was less than helpful, and getting a warrant to search the business would be a tricky and lengthy process.

That night, Gil was just about to head home for the evening when he got a frantic call from Malcolm.

“Gil. I have a witness from inside the Vosler Institute.”

“What!”

Malcolm didn’t respond, and instead Gil overheard tires screeching and Bright yelling, “Andi!”

“Bright!” Gil yelled. He was just about to have one of the tech people track the phone Malcolm was calling from when the kid got back on the line.

“Someone just kidnapped my witness!”

“Where are you?” Gil demanded.

As soon as he had an address, Gil had to bite his tongue. The kid was right outside Vosler Institute instead of home in bed where he was supposed to be. Gil used his cell to send the closest squad car to Bright’s location. Then he focused back on Malcolm’s call. “Okay, I’ve got a unit headed your way. Talk to me until they get there. Tell me what happened.”  

Gil clenched his jaw while Malcolm rambled. Of course the kid had signed himself up as a patient at Vosler Institute. And of course he’d said all the right things to get himself an audience with the owner himself, Quentin. And of course… well, Gil couldn’t quite get on board with the ‘of course’ line of thinking when Malcolm said he actually let those quacks give him electroshock therapy.

Gil had no words. It was so far beyond okay, that he was past yelling. Then Malcolm told him he’d convinced a woman named Andi to leave Vosler with him, but then a black van had pulled up and taken her while he called Gil.

“Gil?” Malcolm asked once he was done rambling.

“I’m here.”

“Squad car just pulled up. I’ll be there soon.” Malcolm hung up.

Gil just stared at his phone for a moment before hanging up and sitting down hard on his office chair. He’d clearly failed Malcolm. The kid was on a path of self-destruction, and clearly the threat of suspending him for a month hadn’t worked. If anything it had given Malcolm less supervision, because no one was there to say ‘no’ or pull the plug when an undercover job got out of hand.

But if verbal reprimands and suspensions weren’t working, Gil felt as though he was out of options, and he certainly wasn’t going to sit back and watch while the kid killed himself. He’d have to give it some thought over the next couple of days. Maybe force Bright to look over cold cases at his desk for a week instead of going with them in the field.

Once Malcolm arrived, Gil gave him a quick hug, and then hustled him into his office so they could talk.

“We need to arrest Quentin Vosler,” Malcolm said as he handed over the electroshock machine.

Gil set the machine down, took a seat, and pointed to the seat across from him.

Once Malcolm was sitting, Gil said, “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Scowling Malcolm said, “I didn’t, but I can’t say the same for Andi. We need to arrest Quentin Vosler before she ends up like Tristan.”

“How am I supposed to get a warrant? All we’ve got is your eyewitness account and whatever this is.” Gil slammed the lid on the machine. “The brass knows what went down with Watkins, Bright. They’ll think you’re nuts.”

Malcolm caught sight of something through Gil’s office window and jumped up. Gil looked out to see Quentin Vosler and went to go confront the man. Luckily JT was there to catch Bright before things became physical.

“What did you do to her?” Bright demanded. “Where’s Andi?”

“I don’t know!” Quentin said. “That’s why I’m here!”  

Gil got everyone into the conference room so they could figure out what was going on. Soon enough it became clear that Andi had been taken by a ‘deprogrammer’. A person who essentially kidnaps people out of a cult and used questionable methods to break the person from their cult mentality.

By the time Quentin had told them everything, Gil noted that Malcolm was no longer riled up. Quite the opposite, in fact, the kid’s shoulders were slumped, and he seemed excessively tired.

Once Quentin left, Malcolm said, “I’ll call my mother.”

“What?” Gil wasn’t sure how that was relevant.

Malcolm already had his phone out. “Deprogrammers aren’t cheap. Guess who has the money and connections to find a list of people willing to do the job.”

Before Gil could answer, Malcolm was on the phone. “Mother? I was hoping you could do me a small favor.”

“Put her on speakerphone,” Gil said.

Once Malcolm had done that, Jessica told Malcolm in no uncertain terms that all interviews would be held tomorrow morning at her house, and that if Malcolm didn’t go home and spend at least five hours in bed trying to sleep, she’d cancel them all.

Gil was impressed. But then he was always impressed by Jessica.

Malcolm tried to whine and argue, but Jessica stuck to her guns, and then spoke to Gil directly to arrange for surveillance for the interviews.

Once Malcolm hung up, he was full on pouting. “Andi could be dead by tomorrow morning.”

Gil put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulders. “Not likely. The deprogrammer won’t get paid if he kills her, and wouldn’t it seem suspicious to hold interviews in the middle of the night?”

“I guess.”

Gil glanced at his watch and said, “I’m heading home. You should too if you want Jessica to keep those interviews tomorrow.”

Malcolm agreed and left.

Gil spent the whole night tossing and turning, wondering what to do about Malcolm’s self-destructive streak, and wishing he had the kind of authority over him that Jessica seemed to. If he’d actually been Malcolm’s parent, he would have curtailed this self-destructive behavior years ago with a spanking or two, but he wasn’t Bright’s father, no matter how badly he wished he was.

# # #

The next morning, Gil and his team were right outside Jessica’s house while she and Malcolm interviewed all the deprogrammers she had been able to contact on short notice. 

The fourth interviewee struck Gil as off, and soon the team was heading in to arrest one Curtis Marsh. They brought him to the station, questioned him about the first murder victim and then about Andi. He wasn’t forthcoming about any of it, but unfortunately for him, he’d left a boot print at the original crime scene which they were able to match to the boot he was wearing, so they arrested him.

Gil patted Malcolm’s shoulder as they watched JT take Curtis Marsh down to be processed.

“There’s not much else we can do until the search warrant comes through to search his house,” Gil said.

Malcolm shook his head. “Curtis couldn’t have been working alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“There has to be someone else.”

Gil sighed. “Even if that’s true, Curtis isn’t talking, and there’s nothing more we can do until we get that search warrant.”

“Time is something Andi doesn’t have much of,” Malcolm said. He went to his desk and started pouring through the case notes, clearly looking for anything that they missed.

An hour later, Gil walked by Malcolm’s desk, and could tell the kid was overwrought, frustrated, and exhausted. He’d wanted to order Malcolm to go home earlier, but he was worried Malcolm would simply go to Curtis Marsh’s house alone and break in. But Bright was spiraling, and this wasn’t helping.

Malcolm glanced up and said, “It wasn’t all Curtis Marsh.”

“Now it’s really time to go home,” Gil said.

“A cult deprogrammer must be skilled, have an understanding of the complex psychology of mind control. Curtis is the muscle, not the brains. Otherwise, he never would have killed Tristan. There’s someone above Curtis, the real deprogrammer. They’re controlling everything.”

Malcolm was repeating things he’d already explained to Gil, which made Gil certain that he’d let Bright obsess over the case files for too long. “I was right from the beginning. You’re in no state to work a case.”

Malcolm slapped the file shut on his desk. “I’ve been working this case.”

Gil leaned down, resting his hands on the desk. “I brought you onto the team because you’re the best at what you do, Bright, but not when you get like this.”

“Like this?” Malcolm asked incredulously. “I’m ‘like this’ because of Martin Whitly, because of Jon Watkins, because of you.”

Gil froze. “What?”

“You asked for my help. You knew I couldn’t say no, and you brought them all back into my life.” Malcolm looked up at him with pleading eyes as he continued to accuse him. “You did that! You started this.” Once the words were out of his mouth, Malcolm broke eye contact, sat back in his chair, and sighed with exhaustion.

Gil was beyond hurt. Malcolm’s words were like daggers piercing his heart. After everything he’d done for Malcolm over the years, this was the thanks he got? And if he were being truly honest with himself, the reason those words hurt so much was because there was a kernel of truth to them. Gil had asked Malcolm back, and he knew the kid wouldn’t refuse. He just hadn’t known Bright would continue to see Martin after that initial case, or that it would lead to so much trauma for Malcolm. In his mind he’d pictured having Malcolm on his team happily solving cases after that first one, not spiraling over thoughts from his past.

Gil stood up straight, and tried not to let the hurt show in his voice. “Get the hell out of my precinct.” He turned and walked quickly to his office.

“Gil, no,” Malcolm said behind him.

Gil kept going, and shut his door with a bit more force than necessary. He assumed Bright would go home, but about three minutes later, he overheard Dani yelling, “Bright, open this door!”

Gil waited a moment, hoping Dani would be able to take care of whatever chaos Malcolm was creating now, but then the electricity suddenly died in the entire precinct.

Jumping out of his chair, Gil opened the door and rushed over to where Dani was standing.

“What happened?”

“Bright’s in there with that electroshock machine.” She said with a shaky voice.

Gil slapped on the door loudly. “Bright? Malcolm, answer me!”

Dani stepped around to look through the glass, and said, “It’s okay. He’s standing.”

Worry and fear quickly turned to anger. Gil had never felt the urge to slap the kid upside the head more than at this very moment. Gil marched to his office, got the keys to the conference room, and unlocked the door. Malcolm was standing there holding a pill bottle and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“I found him!”

“What?” Gil was wondering if Malcolm had finally cracked.

Malcolm pointed to the pill bottle. “The man who prescribed Curtis Marsh his medication. He’s the mastermind. The real deprogrammer. And I recognize his name! He’s one of ours!”

Gil plucked the pill bottle out of Malcolm’s hand, passed it to Dani, and said, “Follow up on that. I’m taking Malcolm home.”

Dani nodded and rushed off, clearly aware that her boss was pissed off.

“Home? I can’t go home now, I just cracked the case!” Malcolm said, still grinning.

Gil grabbed Malcolm’s arm, pulled him close so they were almost nose to nose and asked dangerously, “Why are the lights out, Malcolm?”

Malcolm looked up at the lights as if confused, and then turned guilty eyes to the electroshock machine. He swallowed hard and gave Gil a small shrug. “Accident?”

Gil’s patience ran out, and before he could stop himself, he’d smacked the kid’s backside hard.

“Gil!” Malcolm protested. He tried to get out of the older man’s grip, and glanced around to make sure none of the officers were watching, but unfortunately for him, several of them were.

Gil took a deep breath and his nostrils flared as he breathed out. Keeping his voice level with effort, Gil said, “I’m taking you home. If you argue or try to fight me, I’ll put you over my lap and paddle you right here, right now, my job be damned.”

Malcolm’s eyes grew impossibly large. “Paddle?”

Instead of answering, Gil pulled Malcolm along with him as he grabbed his jacket, told Dani he’d be back in about an hour, and hauled Malcolm out to his car.

He didn’t let go of the kid until they were standing beside the passenger door. Gil opened it and pointed to the seat. Malcolm got in without a word.

Gil drove Malcolm to his loft as an awkward silence surrounded them. Gil regretted his threat about five seconds after it came out of his mouth, but he didn’t see how to back out of it now. And even if he hated it, it sure seemed to be doing wonders for Malcolm’s compliance.

Once he parked in front of Malcolm’s loft, Malcolm finally spoke up. Speaking softly and repentantly he said, “You don’t have to do this, Gil.”

The fact that Malcolm wasn’t loudly objecting told Gil all that he needed to know. There were no words about how spanking was wrong, how Malcolm was too old, how Gil had no right, how it was technically assault, or how he’d be traumatized if Gil did it. It was just a plea for Gil not to.

“I think I do.” Gil’s tone was just as soft and unhappy as Malcolm’s had been.

Malcolm shook his head. “I get it. I- I went too far. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

Instead of responding, Gil got out of the car, walked around, and opened the passenger side door. Malcolm got out, unlocked his door to his loft, and then locked it behind them once Gil was inside.

Done talking, Gil went straight to the bathroom and picked up Malcolm’s hairbrush.

“What are you…”

Gil came back out and held the brush up for Malcolm to see.

“…oh.” Malcolm winced before glancing down at the ground in front of him.

Gil went to sit on the corner of Malcolm’s bed, and pointed to a spot on the floor with the brush. “Right here.”

Very slowly, Malcolm walked over to him, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you, though?” Gil asked. “Because I don’t think you are. Sure, you’re upset that I’m angry enough to paddle you, but you’re not actually sorry for disobeying my orders repeatedly yesterday and today, or for almost getting yourself killed.”

“I am sorry that I disobeyed your orders. I wasn’t thinking of it in those terms when I did it, I just… needed to work.”

“Yeah? Well I needed you to stay home, but that’s not why I’m paddling you. I’m paddling you because you let those people electrocute you, and then you were so upset about our argument, that you almost electrocuted yourself. I’ve had it with your self-destructive behavior, Malcolm. So, I’m going to paddle you until I think you’re actually sorry.”

Gil reached up, and tugged Malcolm over his lap. The kid didn’t even try to pull back, just made a little ‘oof’ sound when he landed. Gil made sure Malcolm’s upper half was supported by the bed so he had a place to rest his cast, and so that there wasn’t a lot of pressure on his healing stomach. Malcolm’s legs hung down off of Gil’s lap with his knees bent and the toes of his shoes touching the floor.

Gil put a hand on the middle of Malcolm’s back to steady him, and then slapped the hairbrush down on the seat of Malcolm’s slacks.

“Ow!” Malcolm’s body tensed.

Gil smacked him again on the left side of his bottom.

“Ow!”

Nodding to himself at the kid’s unhappy reaction, Gil set up a rhythm of swats moving the brush from right to left and back again.

“Ow! Gil! Ow! I’m sorry! Really I am! Gil!”

Gil’s only response was to continue paddling the kid’s backside. As far as he was concerned the time for talking was before or after a physical punishment, not during.

“Gil! Please! That’s Ow! That’s enough! I swear! I won’t do it again! Ow! I promise!”

Malcolm started squirming, and trying to roll his backside out of the line of fire. Gil pressed down slightly on the middle of Malcolm’s back to keep him in place and kept swatting.

“Gil! Please! Ah! No more! I’ll listen to you! I will! Oow! Please! No self- Ow! Self-destructive behavior!”

Apparently desperate for it to be over, Malcolm put his good hand back to cover his backside. Gil wasn’t spanking particularly fast, just steadily, so it was easy to stop before hitting Bright’s good hand.

Malcolm carried on about how he was sorry and how he was going to take care of himself and follow orders in the future while Gil grasped his wrist, and pulled his hand up to rest against the lower part of Malcolm’s back.

Gil started back up where he’d left off, steadily spanking right to left and making sure to cover every inch of the kid’s bottom from the top down to his upper thighs. It took a few more seconds, but soon Malcolm’s apologizing became a bit frantic and high pitched, and Gil knew they were almost done.

“Giiiil!” Malcolm yelled before breaking down into noisy sobs.

Gil gave him another twenty swats while Malcolm cried and babbled incoherent apologies.

Finally considering the paddling over, Gil set the hairbrush behind him on the bed, took a deep calming breath, and then released Malcolm’s wrist. He gently rubbed circles on Malcolm’s heaving back, and patiently waited for the kid to calm down.

It took several minutes, but soon enough the tears slowed, and Malcolm tried to push himself up.

Gil put pressure on his back to keep him where he was. “Not yet. I want to know why. Why did you let them electrocute you, Malcolm? And don’t you dare tell me it was a way to solve the case unless you’d like me to pick up the hairbrush again.”

Malcolm’s crying became pronounced again for a few moments. Once he got himself partially under control, he spilled his guts. Told Gil all about his father and Watkins planning to take him camping and kill him. How he thought his father had loved him, even though logically he knew better, and how he’d been hallucinating a dead version of his ten-year-old self.

“You should have told me, kid. We could have talked it over instead of you going behind my back all day.”

“I know I could have talked to you, Gil. I just didn’t think it would make the hallucinations go away. If anything it would make you more likely to send me home..”

"If there's a next time I expect you to tell me what's going on, whether you want to or not. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you, and I swear I'll talk to you if there's a next time."

Gil patted his back. “Okay then, you can get up now.”

Malcolm pushed himself up with a groan and a hiss. He put his good hand back to hold his bottom. “That was really painful.”

“Good.” Gil stood up next to him and pulled Malcolm into a tight hug. “Hopefully you'll remember how painful it was for a long time so I don’t have to do it again anytime soon.”

“Again?” Malcolm whined.

Gel held him even tighter. “I’m afraid so, kid. I won’t sit back and watch you self-destruct anymore. You are my family. I love you. You’re not going to get yourself killed on my watch.”

Malcolm rested his forehead on Gil’s shoulder and sighed, clearly resigned to his fate.

Several moments later when Malcolm raised his head, Gil let go. “Stay home for the rest of the night.” He pointed to Malcolm’s bed. “Go to sleep. That’s an order. I’ll call you early tomorrow morning and let you know where we are with the new suspect and the warrant.”

Malcolm pouted, but nodded his compliance, and Gil headed back to the precinct.  

# # #

The next morning, Gil, Dani, JT, and Malcolm had a conference call, and made plans to catch the real deprogrammer, Dr. Coppenrath, who happened to work for Internal Affairs.

Malcolm got to the precinct after everyone else had given their statements about the electrical incident to Dr. Coppenrath, and went straight to Gil’s office.

“Can you help me with this?” Malcolm pointed to his loose tie.

Gil got up to help him and as he fixed the kid’s tie, Malcolm glanced through the window at the Internal Affair’s detective that was there to question him about the night before.

“How are you feeling?” Gil asked.

“Sore,” Malcolm answered, finally looking at his mentor with a frown. “But also better than I have for a long time, which really sucks, because I don’t want last night to become a regular thing. It was horrible.”

Gil patted his shoulder. “I agree wholeheartedly on both counts, so keep your self-destructive tendencies in check.”

“Right,” Malcolm agreed.

“Are you ready?” Gil asked, looking over at their suspect.

“Am I ready?” Bright repeated. “I slept a full three and a half hours.”

Gil gave him an exasperated glance and Malcolm carefully changed his answer. “Okay, three, but it was quality. There was definitely some REM mixed in there.”

“You’re used to being the smartest person in the room. Not today. Dr. Coppenrath is a police psychiatrist. Internal Affairs trusts him to make sense of minds like yours.”

“Don’t worry, I got this.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t underestimate him. We’ve given our statements on the incident. Now it’s up to you.”

After a lengthy question and answer session between Malcolm and Dr. Coppenrath, Malcolm caught him up in a mistake and then a lie. Before noon, Dr. Coppenrath was in custody, and the team had found and saved Andi.

Once that was done, Gil drove Malcolm home, yet again.

“Drink?” Malcolm offered.

Gil accepted, and after a short conversation, Gil said, “I don’t want to see you around the precinct for two weeks. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Malcolm answered.

“But if you want to call me and just talk, or come over for dinner, I’d welcome the company.”

“Yeah?” Malcolm perked up.

“Yeah.” Gil nodded and headed for the door, fulling believing that Malcolm was actually going to listen to him this time and stay away from the office.

“Hey Gill?” Gil turned around, and Malcolm gave him puppy eyes. “I was wrong last night. I’m not like this because of you. I ‘m sorry.”

Gil smiled. “I know kid. I know.” He walked out feeling more optimistic about Malcolm and his recovery than he had in a long time.

The End

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 13 ‘Wait and Hope’. Several lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Don’t Make Promises That You Don't Intend to Keep - S1xE13

Against his better judgement, Malcolm had booked himself a three night stay at a resort in Tahiti. He wasn’t actually planning to go, per say, but having the trip booked had stopped his mother’s hourly calls, and satisfied Gil’s strong arm tactics.

His two weeks of administrative leave were officially over, but Gil and his mother were apparently conspiring, because Gil told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t allowed back until he took an actual vacation. His exact words had been ‘somewhere with a beach’. Technically, Coney Island had a beach, so Malcolm could have a nice three-day staycation, spend one of those days at Coney Island, and then honestly tell Gil that he’d seen the ocean when he went back to work.

But he should have known that the people who loved him would thwart his well laid plans.

His mother showed up at his loft the morning of his flight. She brought him an expensive white suit as a parting gift, forced him to try it on, and packed a bag for him while he was changing.

“You look wonderful,” she said with pride, and handed him his bag.

“My flight doesn’t leave for hours. I’ll just get a cab.”

“Oh no. I’ve arranged something much better.” She pointed towards his door.

His stomach sank, wondering what she had planned. He honestly didn’t want to spend hours on a flight to a warm tropical beach. Not that he didn’t like warm tropical beaches, he did, but there was nothing for him to do at the beach, which gave him time to think. And time to think was not a good thing when you were Malcolm Bright.

He walked outside and saw Gil standing there in front of his car waiting.

“My mother called in a police escort?” Malcolm asked with disbelief.

Gil took his overnight bag and put it in his car. “Kid, I’d drive you all the way to Tahiti if I could. Nice suit. I’m proud of you.”

Malcolm reluctantly followed him. “Why is everyone treating me like I’m deploying to a war zone? I’m going to a resort.”

“And that’s a good thing.” They both got in the car. “We all just want you to be happy. Do you know how to do that?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m familiar with the concept.” He was resigned to going to the airport. Hopefully Gil would just drop him off at the front door, and then Malcolm could take a cab back to his loft.

The radio in Gil’s car crackled and dispatch said, “Attention all units. We have a 10-54 DOA at 328 Pearl Street.”

Bright looked at Gil hopefully.

“Forget about it,” Gil said. “I’m not taking you to a crime scene.”

“Come on, it’s practically on the way,” Malcolm pleaded with puppy dog eyes. “My flight’s not for hours.”

Gil held a finger up to him and warned, “Bright—”

“Look, I’m taking care of myself,” Malcolm said, pointing out his new white vacation suit. “But I can still help. How about a quick drive-by, then straight to the airport? In and out. I promise.”

Gil huffed. “Fine. But only because I want everyone to see you in that suit.”

Chaos ensued at the crime scene, and Malcolm ended up holding down the pressure plate of an active land mine while talking to his father, Martin. Once everyone else had cleared out of the room, Malcolm let go of the mine, and ‘rescued’ himself by jumping out of the second story window seconds before the bomb exploded. But luckily he landed on the relatively soft hood of Gil’s parked car instead of the cement sidewalk.

When Malcolm pushed himself up and made eye contact with Gil he groaned out the words, “I don’t think I’m going to make my flight.”

After getting checked out by the EMT’s on scene, Malcolm was declared unharmed. He went back to the precinct with everyone, grabbed the bag his mother had packed out of Gil’s car before it got towed, and put on one of his normal gray suits to continue with the investigation.

By midday they had a suspect named Ernesto in custody, but Malcolm didn’t think they had the right guy. After saying that repeatedly to Gil, his mentor had made him stay out of the interrogation room while they questioned Ernesto.

An hour later Gil came out of the interrogation room and said, “Ernesto hasn’t confessed yet, but he will.” Gil waved Malcolm over. “Thank you for your help.”

“But he definitely did it, right?” Malcolm said.

“Yes, and we got him.” Gil put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder to guide him down the hall toward the exit.

“I don’t understand it.” Malcolm said. “What was his plan? And what drove him to these lengths? It—”

“Doesn’t fit your profile?” Gil guessed with a chuckle, continuing to pull Malcolm along. “We got this. Come on, Bright, you promised.” Gil grabbed Bright’s jacket on the way and handed it to the kid as he continued talking. “I pulled some strings and got you on the next flight out. Powell will give you a ride.”

Malcolm’s stomach twisted. “Gil, I’m—”

“No, Bright, you’re not.” Gil said firmly. “All right? I can handle this. I need you to handle you.”

Malcolm pouted, but let Gil take him out the door where Dani was waiting. Gil gave him one final push and shut the door behind him.

Dani said, “You don’t look like someone who’s thinking about a vacation.”

Malcolm shook his head as he followed Dani to her car. “I don’t like Ernesto for this.”

“Wow, you just can’t take a break, can you?” She unlocked her car and they both got in.

“It’s not that.”

“Isn’t it?” she asked. “I think it’s time that you had the profile turned on you for once. Why can’t you just tune it all out? Walk away from it? What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of me,” he admitted. “The more relaxed things are out there; the more time I have to think in here.” He pointed to his head. “And when that happens…”

“It’s terrifying,” Dani guessed.

Malcolm nodded. “Yeah. Imagine a theater that only plays horror films about you.”

“That is the worst idea for a movie theater I have ever heard. I don’t think anybody would go,” she said with a smile.

Malcolm chuckled, appreciating her attempt at humor in the moment.

“Right. But the problem is, I’m trapped inside.”

After a short pause, Dani said, “All right, so where are we really going?”

He turned hopeful eyes to her. “I have a terrible idea.”

The two of them went to see Martin together. It was the first time Malcolm had seen his father since being kidnapped and tortured by Jon Watkins. The first time he’d had the chance to tell his father that he knew the truth about the camping trip. That they’d taken him out there to kill him at ten years old.

After some pleasantries and introductions, Martin said, “I heard you met Jon. I was worried about you.”

“After he kidnapped me, Jon Watkins told me about the camping trip. You took me there because I found the girl in the box.”

Martin chuckled. “Jon always had an active imagination.”

“You were going to kill me.”

Martin chuckled again and chided, “Malcolm. I have done some bad things. But I never did that. I mean, if I wanted to kill you,” he shrugged, “I would have.”

In that moment, looking into his father’s eyes, Malcolm was torn. He knew his unconscious bias would be to believe the man he used to love. The man he desperately still wanted love and approval from even if he hated Martin now. But Martin had spoken with such nonchalance about the accusation of murdering his child, that Malcolm found himself believing the serial killer against his better judgement. It hadn’t occurred to him over the past two weeks, that Jon could have been lying. Which was fairly ironic since Jon was also a serial killer. But now that the seed of doubt had been planted, Malcolm couldn’t help but latch onto it.

Dani interrupted his train of thought by saying, “We’re here to solve a case.”

Getting himself focused on the case, helped Malcolm push his internal thoughts to the back of his head where the belonged. Over the next several minutes the three of them came up with a new suspect for them to investigate.

Unfortunately, that suspect was the son of an excessively wealthy man, and the suspect was also getting married that very night at his family’s estate. A very exclusive wedding party was happening at that very moment with a few hundred guests.

Martin suggested that they crash the wedding, and Malcolm knew that was the right answer, even if he didn’t like it.

Dani pointed at her work clothes and said, “I can’t go like this.”

“Take her shopping, my boy,” Martin said as they were leaving.

Bright had a cab take them to the closest boutique that he knew his mother approved of, and helped Dani pick a dress.

While she was trying on the dress, Malcolm got out his phone. Wincing at the upcoming conversation, he called his mentor. “Gil, I need you to go back in with Ernesto.”

“Are you—”

“On the plane?” Malcolm guessed. “No.”

“Kid, you’re done,” Gil said, obviously at the end of his rope.

Malcolm quickly said, “I can explain. Dani and I went to see my father. I think George Taylor is in danger, and Cal may be our killer.”

That seemed to push Gil’s ire to the back burner for the time being. He said, “The commissioner has a ton of cops working that event. Even if you hunch is right, they’re not shutting it down.”

“Ton of cops,” Malcolm repeated hopefully. “You know anyone who could let us in?’

Gil sighed and said reluctantly, “I’ve got a guy.”

Just then, Dani walked out wearing the dress, and Malcolm absently hung up on Gil while staring at her. “You look fantastic.”

She smiled and said, “That’s the first smart thing you’ve said all day.”

# # #

A few hours later, the case was closed. Gil had one of the cops let Malcolm and Dani into the wedding party, and they’d worked together to catch the real killer and save the intended victim. Malcolm had even seen his mother there, confessed that he hadn’t gone on vacation, and for some unfathomable reason, his mother had actually seen how happy working the case had made Malcolm. He didn’t think he’d be getting any more harassment about a vacation from her.

Completely satisfied with his day, Malcolm took a cab home, but when he arrived at his loft, he found Gil and JT standing there waiting for him with crossed arms.

Malcolm swallowed hard, put on a fake smile and said, “What’s this?”

Gil said, “This is me enlisting the help of the one person who doesn’t seem to be swayed by your puppy eyes and pleading.” Gil gestured to JT with a thumb.

“Puppy eyes?” Malcolm scoffed, but inside his stomach flip flopped.

 Gil gestured to Malcolm’s door. “You probably don’t want to have this talk on the street.”

His stomach lurched again, but Malcolm unlocked the door and let the two men inside. He took off his jacket, hung it up, and loosened his bow tie. “Drink?” he offered.

“No,” JT said, before Gil could answer.

“You promised me, Malcolm,” Gil said. “You promised to go on vacation.”

Grimacing, Malcolm said, “I know, and I would have gone, honestly I would have, but then one thing led to another and—”

“You’re lying,” JT said.

Malcolm’s eyes opened wide with shock. Could JT really read him so well? Or was he simply guessing? Malcolm shook his head. “Lying?” he asked, but his voice was unnaturally high.

Gil’s eyes narrowed. “Were you lying to me the whole time, kid?”

Malcolm shook his head again, and held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I can explain.”

Gil shook his head. “When I heard you casually lying to your mother over the phone, I should have known.” Gil grabbed on of Malcolm’s hands that he was holding up, and towed him over to the back of his couch.

“Uh… Gil?”

Gil sat on the back of the couch with his right foot on the floor and his left thigh resting along the back of the couch. He yanked Malcolm down over his thigh, wrapped an arm around his waist, and started smacking his backside hard.

“Gil!” Malcolm had a hard time believing he was actually over his mentor’s leg getting spanked in his tux. With a witness no less. His entire face burned with humiliation.

Gil continued spanking and said furiously, “You do not make promises to me if you have no intention of keeping them.”

“JT!” Malcolm turned pleading eyes to the person he hoped would be the voice of reason in this little nightmare scenario.

“Don’t look at me, bro,” JT said. “This wasn’t the plan when we came over, but I’m fully on board. You’ve deserved this for a while now.”

At least JT wasn’t laughing, Malcolm thought dejectedly as he focused his efforts back on his mentor, “Gil! Ow! I’m sorry! Ow! I just… Ow! …didn’t know what else to do!”

Gil stopped smacking, as quickly as he’d started. He took his arm off Malcolm’s waist, and Malcolm immediately stood up, put both hands on his backside protectively, and stepped back away from both men.

“Explain.” Gil said, staying where he was and crossing his arms.

“Going on vacation doesn’t have the same implications for me that it does for other people. For me it just means more time in my head, which is the one place I try to avoid hanging out. Especially after finding out that my dad wanted to kill me on that camping trip. Three days on a beach wouldn’t be relaxing for me, it would be stressful. Much more stressful than being on a case.”  

JT spoke up. “Dani said that your dad denied that.”

Malcolm looked over at JT and nodded. “Yeah, he did. But that was after I’d already…”

“Promised me you were leaving, when you knew full well you weren’t,” Gil finished for him.

Unable to maintain eye contact, Malcolm focused on the ground and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You should have talked to me, kid,” Gil said.

“I tried, but—”

“No, you didn’t,” JT said. “If you’d fully explained yourself in the first place, Gil would have let up about it. You lied because it was easier.”

Malcolm shook his head. Not refuting it, just wanting it not to be true. “I… I wasn’t thinking about it in those terms, I just…”

“You were overwhelmed,” JT said.

“Yes.”

JT shook his head. “Not a good enough excuse, bro. Gil, me and Dani; we’re your friends. You talk to us, when you feel overwhelmed. You don’t lie to us so you can shut us out.”

Surprising guilt stabbed at Malcolm’s stomach. He moved one hand from his backside to his stomach, and unconsciously gave JT the biggest puppy eyes to date. “I’m sorry.”

JT shook his head. “We were planning to make you pack a bag, take you to the airport and supervise you until you got on an airplane, but now…” he turned to Gil, “…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Gil nodded in agreement. “Me either.”

JT gestured to Gil’s thigh that was still resting on the back of the couch. “He’s exhausted. You should finish what you started, and—”

“Finish?” Malcolm shook his head vigorously and took another step back. “That was more than enough!

“No,” JT said, “That clearly wasn’t enough, because you continued to argue, lie, and make excuses once you got up.” JT focused on Gil. “Finish it, and then put him to bed.”

“I already said I was sorry, and I’m not a child to be put to bed!”

“Could have fooled me, bro,” JT said. “Why do you think I’m here? It’s because I’m good with kids.”

“I’m not a child!”

“Physically, no. Emotionally…” JT shrugged, “…I’d say you’re about ten. That’s when the world you knew as a child fell apart, so it’s not surprising that you’d get stuck there. And that’s fine. It just means the team needs to act accordingly instead of treating you like an adult with the stability that comes with emotional maturity. Which is what I told Gil when he was ranting about your escapades tonight, and why he invited me along and help.”

Malcolm shook his head, not wanting any of that to be true. He turned to his mentor and pleaded, “Gil, reason with him please!”

“I am the voice of reason. That’s why Gil brought me.” JT advanced on Malcolm, grabbed his arm, and hauled him over to Gil. “I don’t fall for crocodile tears, or puppy eyes when I know a kid is doing something they shouldn’t.” He pushed Malcolm down over Gil’s waiting thigh. “I’m more of a time out kind of guy, but it doesn’t exactly surprise me that Gil is old school. But either way, the punishment isn’t over before the kid is actually repentant.”

“But Gil already spanked me for not keeping my promise!” Malcolm whined. He tried to stand up, but Gil wrapped his arm around Malcolm’s back again to keep him there.

“And now he’s going to spank you for not confiding in us.”

“Nooo,” Malcolm whined and tried to push himself up again. He hated that JT of all people had read him so well, and had even given him insight that he knew was true but didn’t want to admit to.

“Sorry, kid,” Gil said. “I don’t like it, but JT is right.”

Gil stared spanking just as hard and as fast as he had the first time.

“Oww! Gil!”

Malcolm’s backside was already a bit tender from the previous swats, and now he couldn’t focus on his shock or indignation like he had the first time. Not to mention being so thoroughly analyzed was a bit exhausting, and he couldn’t hide behind the upsetting ‘fact’ that his father had tried to kill him, now that he was questioning the validity of Jon Watkin’s statement. 

“When you’re upset about something, you tell us,” Gil lectured while spanking. “You don’t hide it from us, and lie to us. Do you understand me?”

“Yes! I understand! Ow! Gil, I’m soooorry!” Malcolm broke down into noisy sobs, and rested his forehead on the seat of the couch, while Gil continued to light his ass on fire with swat after swat.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few more seconds, the swats stopped.

“Okay, Malcolm, all done,” Gil said gently while rubbing his back.

Malcolm pushed himself up. Gil stood up as well, and pulled Malcolm into a hug. Once his tears were down to sniffles, he muttered another apology. “I’m sorry,”

“I know you are.” Gil hugged him even tighter.

“You got it from here?” JT asked.

Gil said, “I’m good.”

JT patted Malcolm’s shoulder once and said, “See you tomorrow at work.”

“At work?” Malcolm asked. He pulled away from Gil so he could look him in the eyes. “I don’t have to go on vacation?”

Gil looked to JT. After JT shook his head, Gil focused back on Malcolm and said, “No, but things are going to be a little different from now on. JT is going to be in charge of you when you’re working a case.”

“In charge of me?” Malcolm asked, wiping the tears off his face with his hands.

JT nodded. “Gil’s my boss, so in that sense, he’s still in charge of both of us, but from now on, I’m the person you answer to directly. That means if you pull some crazy stunt at a crime scene you’ll be spending some quality time sitting in the back of my car having a time out while the rest of us work the case. And if you don’t stay in time out until I come get you, I’ll go with Gil’s methods, and then you’ll restart your time out on a sore butt.”

Malcolm shook his head.

“You don’t have to like it. It’s happening whether you like it or not, because none of us want to see you dead.” JT turned to Gil and said, “No alcohol, and straight to bed for him.”

Gil nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay until he falls asleep.”

JT nodded and left.

Once Gil and Malcolm were alone, Malcolm said, “You’re not really going to let him… do any of that to me, are you?”

“Yeah, kid. I sure am.”

Malcolm pouted as Gil hustled him through getting ready for bed, and helped him put on his restraints.

“Go to sleep.” Gil said softly, and then had the gall to go pour himself a shot as he sat at the kitchen counter and waited for Malcolm to fall asleep.

The End.

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 14 ‘Eye of the Needle’. Several lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual spanking of an adult.

Don’t Cooperate with Extortionists - S1xE14

Jessica sat at the police station watching the news with dismay. She’d had a horribly upsetting morning. She’d gone with her son to meet someone who claimed to have information about one of her ex-husband’s murder victims, only to find a dead body. She’d lost her purse at the crime scene, and then she’d had to go to the police station to give a statement. Midway through giving her statement, Gil had turned on the television, and there on the screen was her daughter reporting the news. Except Ainsley wasn’t just reporting the news, she was live and actively speaking to the killer who’d left the body for Jessica to find.

The killer called out Jessica on national television. He said she was a hypocrite for offering a million dollars for information on her ex-husband’s murder victims. And then said he himself wanted that money, and if she didn’t give it to him when he called back, more people would die.

Gil turned the television off once the serial killer hung up. Jessica got up and walked to the window, needing a moment to breath. She muttered under her breath. “No good deed goes unpunished. If I hadn’t gone on TV and offered that money…”

“You can’t think like that,” Malcolm said.

“Why? The killer just announced it to millions of people. That man we found this morning is dead because of me.”

“No,” Malcolm disagreed. “He’s dead because someone killed him. Not you. You were just trying to do some actual good.”

She turned to Gil and said, “I want to pay. It’s a small price to ensure no more lives are lost.”

“NYPD policy is firm,” Gil said, crossing his arms. “We do not cooperate with extortionists.”

Scowling at him, Jessica said, “I don’t give a flying—”

“Mother!” Bright cut her off. “Gil is right. We’ll send an officer to the house. The smartest thing you can do right now is go home and let us do our jobs. Please.”

Frustrated by their lack of agreement, Jessica shook her head and muttered, “Fine.” She walked out of the police station and found her driver Adolpho waiting for her by the car.

He opened the door for her, and she absently said, “Take me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

But as she sat in the back of the car, the image of that poor murdered man kept coming back to her, and eventually she couldn’t take it. She didn’t care what Gil or her son said, she was going to pay to ensure no one else got killed.

“Change of plans Adolpho,” she said. “Take me to the bank.”

Half an hour later she had the money in a bag next to her in the car. she watched the television through her phone and waited for the killer to call Ainsley back with instructions.

Right on time he called and instructed Jessica to meet him at the place where she’d first met Martin with the money in thirty minutes.

Seconds after telling Adolpho to take her to Stuyvesant Park, Malcolm called her.

She sighed, put on a fake smile and said, “Hello, dear. Any updates?”

“Possibly. I need you to tell me the spot where you first met Dad.”

“Oh… who can remember?” she lied. “That’s ancient history.”  

Malcolm was silent for just a second. “You’re planning to pay the ransom. Don’t do this, it’s too dangerous. Tell me the meeting spot.”

“Malcolm,” she said, “He’s left me no choice. I need to put an end to this before any more blood is shed in our name.” She hung up on him.

After arriving at the park, she sat on the bench where she’d first met her ex. She heard the sound of a phone ringing, and found a cell phone taped to the underside of the park bench.

Her stomach lurched as she answered. “Hello?”

“Go to the northeast corner of the park,” the killer instructed.

Once she got there the killer said. “Good. Now look up.”

She looked around but saw nothing.

“The corner building.”

Then she saw it. Two men standing on the roof of a building. One dressed in dark clothing and wearing a mask, and the other standing over the railing on the ledge with tape on his mouth and his hands tied behind his back.

Her stomach lurched.

“Do you see us?” the killer asked.

“Yes. I see you.”

“Do exactly as I say or I shove him over the edge. Did you bring the money?”

“Of course I did.”

“Good. I want you to dump it out.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jessica said.

“Dump the money or I dump the man.”

“What?” She asked, not able to understand why he was asking her to do such a thing.

“Do it. Now!”

Startled, she unzipped the bag of money, and dumped it out over the sidewalk. Strangers rushed over to start grabbing the hundred dollar bills as they floated around in the winter wind.

“Are you happy?” she asked. “I did exactly what you said.” But when she looked up again, she only saw the killer on the roof.

The people grabbing money swirled around her, making her feel claustrophobic and panicky. Then she heard Gil’s voice calling her name.

“Jessica!”

Her panic subsided a bit as she turned to seek out his comforting presence.

“Jessica!” he rushed over to her. “Are you okay?”

But before she could answer she heard a scream and looked across the street. There on the sidewalk was the other man who’d been on the roof lying in a pool of blood.

Jessica gasped with disbelief. “He did it anyway!”

Gil called instructions to his men through the radio. “The killer was just on the roof. He can’t have gone far.” Then Gil put his arm around her and led her away from the crowd. “All right. You can’t stay here.”

“He did it anyway,” she repeated numbly.

“Come on. This way.” Gil led her a couple of blocks away where his car was parked

She leaned her head on his shoulder, needing the comfort after so much trauma.

He stopped in front of his car, and just hugged her close.

“He did it anyway,” she said, still trying to understand.

“I know.”

Jessica shook her head, and backed up a step to look in Gil’s eyes. “But, I did everything he asked. I thought he wanted the money. But then…”

“Then what?”

“He told me to dump it out or he’d kill the other man.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You did everything you could.”

“I should have listened to you. You told me not to give in to his demands.” She put a hand on her forehead. “But I just had to do things my own way.”

“Jess, you just gave up a million dollars to save someone. That’s way more than most people would do.”

“But it didn’t save him. I was trying to stop the bloodshed! How could I have been so stupid!”

“Hey!” Gil said sternly. “You’re not stupid. You couldn’t have known how this would turn out, and you had good intentions.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know what they say about the road to hell, right?”

“Jessica,” he chided.

“No. Don’t try to make me feel better about this Gil. I should have listened to you. If I had, none of this would have happened.”

“You don’t know that,” Gil said. If you’d refused to follow his orders, he probably still would have killed that man. The only difference being that he would have then blamed it on you.”

She shook her head. “Malcolm called me. He asked me where I’d met Martin, and I refused to tell him.”

Gil shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Do you have a death wish?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Malcolm told me you were going to go meet the person from the tip line by yourself this morning.”

“Well I didn’t know he was a killer at the time.”

“Because you didn’t know anything about him!” Gil said. “And then you refused to even tell Malcolm where you were headed to pay this guy off?”

“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt!”

Gil pursed his lips. “And I don’t want you to get hurt. So stop putting yourself in dangerous situations.”

She shrugged. “Better me than someone innocent.”

Gil’s face registered shock for just a moment before he closed the gap between them in one large step. Before Jessica knew what was happening, Gil had grabbed her arm, turned her to the side, and smacked her backside.

“Gil!”

He smacked her bottom several times in a row, as her eyes darted around to see if anyone was witnessing this humiliation. “Ow! Gil! You’re hurting me!” She tried yanking her arm out of his grasp.

He gave her a little shake, and she stopped struggling. “It would not be better if you were the one who got hurt, Jessica. Repeat that back to me, or I’m going to sit on the hood of my car and put you over my knee.”

Looking into his eyes, she fully believed his ridiculous threat. “It wouldn’t be better if I was the one who got hurt.”

Gil closed his eyes, took a deep breath, nodded, and let her go.

She glanced behind them and saw a couple of bystanders staring at them. Luckily it was no one she recognized, and neither one of them had a phone out. She hadn’t thought her face could get any hotter, but it did. She stepped to the side so that Gil was between her and the bystanders.

She glared at him. “Have you lost your mind?” she asked, trying to sound furious without raising her voice.

He crossed his arms again and glared back at her. “Possibly. Malcolm puts himself in the line of fire every other case. I can’t stand by and watch you do the same thing.”

“I should have you arrested for assault.”

He took out his radio and held it out to her with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She said, waving the radio away. “I certainly wouldn’t want this incident spread all over the evening news along with everything else they say about me.” She brushed some invisible lint off her coat, resisted the strong urge to rub the sting out of her backside, and leveled Gil with a somewhat disdainful glance. “This had better not happen again.”

He glared at her and leaned in. “I agree. It had better not happen again.”

Before either one of them could say more Malcolm’s voice called out, “Mother! There you are! Are you okay?”

He rushed over and gave her a hug. She hugged him back and patted his back reassuringly. “I’m just fine.”

“Fine?” He asked, pulling back to look into her eyes.

“Physically I’m fine,” she clarified. “Emotionally I’m barely hanging in there.” She darted Gil a glare.

Gil put his usual comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to catch this guy, Jessica. I promise.”

Before she could answer, Gil’s radio came to life, and he stepped away to talk to his men about the case.

The End

Author’s Note: A blurb for season 1 episode 15 ‘Death’s Door’. Several lines are straight from the show.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Talk of non-consensual spanking of an adult that happens off screen.

Don’t Change Your Story - S1xE15

Jessica wished she hadn’t let her daughter talk her into coming to the precinct this morning, but Ainsley had insisted. Now that the Carousel Killer had been caught, Ainsley wanted Gil’s advice on the next step.

Gil had invited them into his office, shut the door behind them and said, “What can I do for you ladies?”

Ainsley said, “Should we call a lawyer?”

“You haven’t already?” Gil asked.

“Of course not,” Jessica said, “Why would I need a lawyer.”

“You stabbed someone Jessica!” Gil said.

“I understand Gil, but I was… Oh, what is the legal term?”

“Under duress?” Gil guessed.

“Under duress. Thank you. The Carousel Killer had threatened innocent lives if I did not stab Martin Whitly myself. And since no formal charges have been filed—”

“Yet,” Gil said.

“—and the real killer is in custody, I should be free and clear. So why do I feel like there is an ax hanging over my head?”

“Because there is an ax hanging over your head.”

“Is that helpful?” Ainsley asked.

Gil sighed and crossed his arms. “The only reason your mother isn’t in cuffs right now is because the investigation is still pending. The D.A. has final say. And if he doesn’t see it as self-defense, criminal charges will follow. You need a lawyer, Jessica.”

“We have a family lawyer that I trust.”

“But not a criminal defense attorney,” Ainsley said. She turned to Gil. “And we need one of those, right?”

Gil nodded. “You need the best one of those.”

“Yeah,” Ainsley agreed.

Jessica scoffed.

“What did you think was going to happen after you tried to kill someone?” Gil asked.

“Oh, I didn’t—”

Gil leaned forward and cut her off. “You went to Claremont without telling us. No one but Malcolm saw what really happened.”

Malcolm happened to open Gil’s office door at that very moment.

Jessica took one look at her son before turning back to Gil. “I stabbed him, end of story.”

“Mother, can I speak to you alone for a minute?” Malcolm asked.

“No,” Gil said, looking at Malcolm suspiciously. He waved Malcolm forward and said, “Get in here.”

Malcolm frowned, but moved to stand next to his mother.

Gil turned to Ainsley and said, “Can you give the three of us a minute?”

Ainsley glanced at them all as if she was thinking about arguing the point.

Jessica put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and said, “It’s all right darling. Go wait for me in the car.”

“I’m calling our lawyer to see if he has any suggestions for criminal lawyers.” Ainsley said as she left.

Gil closed the door behind her, and then went to his window and twisted the wand to close the blinds so no one in the office could see into his office.

Jessica’s stomach took a dive. She put a protective hand on her son’s shoulder.

Gil gave them both a stern glare and crossed his arms. “Out with it.”

Malcolm winced and looked at his mother.

“Whatever are you talking about, Gil?” Jessica asked with a forced smile.

Gil pointed to Malcolm. “I’ve known the kid since he was eleven, Jessica. I can tell when something’s wrong. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s wallowing in guilt.” Gil turned back to her, “And you’re not wallowing in guilt.”

“Why should I feel guilty? Martin is a murderer,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, and you’re not a murderer. That’s why,” Gil said.

Malcolm spoke up. “I—”

“No!” Jessica cut him off. “He’s just worried about his father, and anxious for another case. Isn’t that right dear.”

“Jessica, your son is a full grown adult. Let him speak for himself.”

Offended by Gil’s tone, Jessica scowled at him.

Malcolm took a deep breath. “Are you asking as Gil, or as Lieutenant Arroyo?”

Gil shook his head. “That bad, huh? Okay, tell me as Gil.”

“I stabbed my father,” Malcolm said quietly.

“Damn it, kid,” Gil muttered.

“What? That’s… that’s just not true!” Jessica said, squeezing Malcolm’s shoulders a bit tighter than necessary. “You watched me stab him. Remember?”

“Jessica,” Gil chided.

“It’s over, mother,” Malcolm said. “It was one thing to lie so that I had time to catch the killer, but now that he’s been caught, we need to tell the truth. I stabbed my father in the heart. But he told me to.”

Jessica looked Gil in the eyes and said, “He’s lying.”

Gil ignored her and focused on Malcolm. “What do you mean he told you to?”

“A long time ago Dr. Whitly and I had a discussion about a spot you can pierce a heart and not have the patient die. He knew that I knew where that spot was, and told me to stab him.”

“Why would he do that?” Gil asked.

Malcolm shrugged. “Maybe he felt bad about trying to kill me when I was ten. Or maybe he’s just such a complete narcissist, that he doesn’t believe he can die. Either way, I made a snap decision and hoped that I could save a life without taking one.”

“I see.” Gil nodded. “Okay then, tell your mother the difference between telling your friend Gil what you’ve done, and telling Lieutenant Arroyo.”

“Uh…” Malcolm looked back and forth between them a couple of times. “We don’t need to go into that right now, do we?”

Jessica scrutinized her son, wondering why he sounded nervous.

Gil leveled Jessica with a glare. “I’m going to take Malcolm to the soundproofed interrogation room and spank his ass for lying, and for stabbing his father.”

“What?” Jessica’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Gil,” Malcolm whined.

Keeping his eyes on Jessica, Gil continued. “Then, when Malcolm isn’t riddled with guilt, and can function like a normal human being again, Lieutenant Arroyo is going to help you find a good lawyer to make sure you don’t go to prison for his crime, because you can’t change your story now.”

Jessica couldn’t quite comprehend what Gil was saying, and simply shook her head.

Turning to Malcolm, Gil said, “Go wait for me in the interrogation room, kid.”

“But—”

“I’ll start right here if you don’t move your ass,” Gil said.

Malcolm shook his head and quickly left the room without another word.

Gil shut the door behind him and faced Jessica.

“You’re going to hit my child? And you’ve done it before?” Jessica asked, still too shocked to argue. How had she not known this?

“Your child is a thirty-year-old man who is perfectly capable of making his own decisions, Jessica. We made this arrangement months ago when he first came back to New York. If we didn’t have this arrangement, he wouldn’t still be working for me. There are things I can’t overlook as a Lieutenant, but as his friend and mentor I can make sure he knows that I really don’t approve of his actions without taking legal action.”

“I don’t approve of you hitting him,” Jessica said.

“Yeah? Well I don’t approve of you going to Claremont without telling the cops. I don’t approve of you going there with the clear intention to stab Martin, and I also don’t approve of you taking the fall for Malcolm, although that one I can at least understand, because I’d probably do the same thing myself. Honestly, I think you’re just as deserving of a spanking as Malcolm is. Maybe more deserving.”

Jessica shook her head.

“Go home, Jessica. I’ll email you a list of lawyers that I trust.” With those words, he walked out and headed to the interrogation room.

Jessica numbly walked out to her car in a daze. Was she having some kind of hallucination? Surly this couldn’t actually be happening. Sweet, easygoing, Gil was going to spank Malcolm? And Malcolm was going to let him without even putting up a fight?

When she got to the car Adolpho told her that Ainsley had taken a cab to the hospital to check on Martin. Jessica told Adolpho to take her home.

During the drive, she couldn’t think of Martin possibly dying in the hospital, or the image of her son stabbing him, or her possible legal troubles. All she could think about was Gil and spanking.

By the time Jessica arrived at home, she wondered if maybe that was the point. Or at least why Malcolm let it happen. The threat of a spanking and the spanking itself most likely did wonders to focus Malcolm’s attention on that one thing instead of all the other chaos in his head. 

She made herself some tea and thought about that for most of the morning. That was until her unhelpful daughter brought home the utterly disgusting lawyer that helped get Martin Whitly put in Claremont instead of an actual prison where he deserved to be. Then all thoughts of Gil were set aside to ponder at a later date. 

The End