AN: This was supposed to be just a little thing, and it kind of spiraled out of control lol. To think that I just came up with this idea in the shower and wasn't even planning on writing it down. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!
Malcolm would've been lying if he said he hadn't seen this coming. Even right after his father was arrested, he saw the looks that his mother gave Gil. He hadn't been able to decipher the looks as a young child, but he saw them and he knew they meant something, and it was something sad. Looking back on it, his mother seemed to have been giving Gil looks of loss, of some form of grief. Those looks had quickly faded away into his mother's more characteristic aloof attitude towards Gil, and it remained that way until Gil was forced to become a true part of Jessica's life again. Then, her aloof attitude changed, and Gil's stiffness towards her slowly disappeared as well. Malcolm knew that there was a chance that there was something between them, but he didn't dwell on it. At first, it was because he just couldn't see it happening. His mother was used to a certain lifestyle, and a police lieutenant from an entirely different socioeconomic class just didn't fit into that lifestyle. Besides, what did they have in common? Both caring about Malcolm? That wasn't enough to sustain a relationship. But maybe there was more going on than Malcolm knew about. He purposely hadn't been looking into it, letting his mother's dating life be her own business for once. Gil would never hurt her, so even if they got together, there wouldn't be anything to worry about. No, Malcolm was bit more concerned about his mother hurting Gil, but he wasn't about to talk to Gil about that. That would really be the pot calling the kettle black, and Malcolm didn't want to deal with that. But that wasn't the real reason that Malcolm was ignoring what was going on between them - he just didn't want to admit it.
Deep down, Malcolm knew that it was because he was scared. He was scared that if their relationship got rocky, he would be stuck in the middle. He was scared that if their relationship imploded, both his mother and Gil would be hurt and he would be forced to pick a side. Malcolm didn't want to pick between them, ever. His mother was his mother, and Malcolm loved her endlessly, despite her overprotectiveness and their rocky relationship for many years. Gil was the only dad he'd known for the past twenty years, the man he looked up to and admired more than anyone, the man whose son he truly wished he was - that as a child, he used to pretend he was.
But Malcolm had been pushing fear down and away and pretending it wasn't there for twenty years, and he would continue to do so, especially when it came to people as important as his mother and Gil. They deserved to be happy, and if they made each other happy, then Malcolm was going to support them one hundred percent.
So when Gil approached him after wrapping up their case, asking to speak with him privately in his office about a "personal thing, not a big deal, really", the same day that Malcolm had seen his mother's hands wrapped tightly around one of Gil's while the man's other hand gently caressed her face, Malcolm knew exactly what the conversation was going to be about, and he was already prepared to tell Gil that it was okay.
"Nothing's wrong," Gil tried to assure him the moment Malcolm closed the door to the office behind him. Gil was pacing a little bit, clearly uncomfortable with starting the conversation, and Malcolm could understand that.
"Gil, it's okay," Malcolm said with a smile, being the one to do the real assuring in the conversation. "You and my mother are consenting adults, and you're allowed to do whatever you want. It's okay."
"No, it's not just that- I mean that's a lot of it, but it's other stuff too-"
"Gil," Malcolm interjected, redirecting Gil towards the couch with a hand on his arm. It was unusual for their roles to be reversed like this, with Malcolm being the one to calm Gil down, but here they were. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's fine. This is about you and Mother, right?" Gil nodded. "And I say it's okay, so if you're only concerned about what I think, then it's okay.
Gil sighed and shook his head, his hands loosely clasped together in front of him, hunched over on the couch. "Really?" he asked, looking over at Malcolm, as if he were desperate to believe him, but just wasn't quite sure. "Because you always say you're fine, no matter what." Malcolm opened his mouth to interject, but Gil cut him off before he could. "No, kid, let me finish. Your selflessness is one of the things I love most about you, but when you always put everyone else first, you neglect yourself too often." Gil turned to face Malcolm more fully. "So I need to know, with one hundred percent certainty, that you are okay with this, that you are okay with me and your mother being together."
When Gil looked at him with more love in his eyes than Malcolm thought was possible, Malcolm knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he said he wasn't okay with it, Gil would end things with his mother right then and there. Malcolm almost didn't know what to do with that. Why did Gil care so much about what he thought? Why did Gil care so much about him in general? Malcolm looked away from those eyes, and down at the floor. He mirrored Gil's earlier position, hunched over, looking down, hands loosely clasped between his knees. He didn't deserve that love he saw in Gil's eyes. He didn't even understand how Gil could love him that much after he consistently disregarded Gil's orders, never let Gil help him, always tried to worm his way into places he didn't belong - figuratively and literally - and definitely annoyed and frustrated Gil to no end. It was completely irrational for Gil to care about him so much, yet he did anyway, and that was something that Malcolm sought to never take for granted. The sudden onslaught of emotion and love left Malcolm smiling nervously and shaking his head. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go, but Malcolm still knew the right answer.
"Yes, Gil, yes," he said, finally turning back up to look at the man. "I am okay with it, really. Both you and Mother have been through so much, and you both deserve to be happy. If you make each other happy, then there is nothing I'd like more than for you to be together," he said, and it was true. If the worst happened, as the constant fear in his heart always said would, then he would deal with it when it did. Malcolm was not going to let his fear stand in the way of two people who cared very deeply for each other and for him. That wasn't an option.
"I'm really, really glad you think so," Gil responded with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, despite the reassuring hand he put around the back of Malcolm's neck, pulling him slightly closer and providing comfort that Malcolm hadn't asked for but often needed. But this time, Malcolm wasn't the one with all the conflicting emotions - well, no more conflicting emotions than normal. The hand on his neck, as comforting as Malcolm always found it nonetheless, wasn't meant to comfort him. It was for Gil, a reminder that Malcolm was there, a semblance of normalcy, a reassurance of family - because they were family, damn it, blood didn't matter, as Gil had always ingrained in him - or maybe all three.
"What else is it?" Malcolm quietly asked, his brow furrowing. Even someone who wasn't a profiler could tell that there was something else that Gil was wrestling with.
Gil let out some nervous laughter and dropped his hand from Malcolm's neck - Malcolm missed the contact immediately, but he would never say so. Gil shook his head, a smile still on his face, but it grew more genuine.
"Nothing ever gets past you, does it kid?" Malcolm gave a small smile, but decided not to point out that Gil himself had said only a few minutes earlier that "it's not just that", so clearly there had to be more. "But yeah, uhm, yeah..." Gil trailed off for a moment, and Malcolm waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. In hindsight, he should've expected Gil's next words. "It's Jackie," Gil finally continued, looking back over at Malcolm with watery eyes. He smiled and shook his head again, but quickly looked back over to Malcolm. "It's been three and a half years now, but I still... I don't know."
He paused, long enough that Malcolm figured he should respond. "You're always going to love her," he softly replied. "I miss her every day. She was always there for me when things were rough with Mother, and I'm never going to not miss her. And neither are you." He waited to continue until Gil made eye contact with him again. "But Jackie wouldn't want you to miss the rest of your life. You can fall in love more than once." For a moment, Gil just nodded, then he cracked another smile and replied.
"Jackie did always love fairytale endings," he said, wiping at his eyes to stop the tears before they fell. "You think I still have a shot at happily ever after?"
"Of course," Malcolm insisted, resting his hand on top of Gil's.
"You think Jackie would want this for me? You think she'd be okay with this?" Gil asked, but his eyes were already clearer.
"Jackie would be pissed if you didn't," Malcolm responded with a grin.
Gil laughed, a real laugh, and nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said.
After a moment, Malcolm continued, "So where are you taking her tonight?" Gil had the gall to look confused. "My mother, where are you taking her tonight?"
"I don't know, yet," Gil admitted sheepishly, wringing his hands together. "It'll be my first real date since Jackie, and your mother is a very classy woman. I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice in both respects."
"Any classy restaurant where you can have dinner on the roof and see all the city lights will be perfect, there you go, done," Malcolm immediately answered with a broad smile. "And don't worry, you're gonna do just fine."
"Thanks, kid," Gil replied in a slightly somber tone. "For everything."
"Well come on. You always say that you're always here for me. Don't you know that goes for you, too?" Malcolm asked. The question was meant to be rhetorical, but part of him was curious. Did Gil know how much Malcolm looked up to him, how he loved him? Malcolm didn't exactly want to spell all that out, but he would certainly work harder to make sure that the answer was obvious.
"I know, kid. I know," Gil responded, laying his hand on the back of Malcolm's neck once again. This time, it was to comfort Malcolm. Gil clearly had been able to tell that the question wasn't entirely rhetorical, and had responded accordingly. Once again, Malcolm was struck by how lucky he was to have someone like Gil in his life, and once again, he vowed to never take that for granted.
It was less than a year later that Malcolm found himself in a similar conversation, only this time, Gil had insisted that he take Malcolm out for a drink, just the two of them, not the rest of the team. That wasn't completely unusual, but Malcolm could tell that this time was different, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what was going to happen at that bar.
Gil and his mother had been dating for ten months, and it had been basically smooth sailing the whole time. Malcolm wasn't sure he had ever seen his mother happier, and he certainly hadn't seen Gil that happy since Jackie passed away. So far, so good. When the two disagreed, they did their best to keep Malcolm out of it, both of them sensing that he didn't want to be put in between them - or, more likely, they knew him and loved him enough to protect him in that simple way. Either way, things were going well, and Malcolm could see where this was going. He knew that Gil had never been the type to date without a purpose. The man was in it for the long haul, and it didn't take a profiler to see that he was completely smitten with Jessica Whitly - in love with her, really, and from what Malcolm could see, that love was returned.
Gil downed his second shot of whiskey and cleared his throat. It wasn't like him to be this nervous, which only added to Malcolm's suspicion of what this conversation was going to be about. Malcolm took another sip of his own cognac - a sip, not taking the whole thing as a shot like Gil had done - and turned to face Gil. The man was going to have to just spit it out.
"I know this isn't you just trying to bond more with me or get me to tell you all about how I'm really doing or something like that. So come on, what is it, Gil?" Malcolm asked, a smile on his face. Gil was only ever like this when it had to do with his mother, and Malcolm had grown to find it rather endearing, not just because that meant that he truly cared about Jessica, but because it proved that Gil also valued how Malcolm felt about it. It was always nice to know that Gil really did care about him.
"Yes, you're right," Gil nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'll just get right down to it. As you know, your mother and I have been together for ten months now, and this is the happiest I've been since Jackie. That's just the truth of it. I love your mother very, very much, and I know she loves me too." Malcolm gave him a nod and a smile.
"She does. Very much," he interjected. Gil blushed and looked away for a moment, smiling wide.
"And as you know," Gil continued around his smile, bringing the conversation back on track. "Dating just to date, with no end goal or an idea of where the relationship is heading, just isn't me." Malcolm nodded again. Gil had been the one to give him The Talk and told him all about dating and all that stuff, and many of his own ideas about dating and relationships had been influenced by Gil. "Your mother and I have talked about it, and we even looked at rings together, but before I ask her, I want to ask the most important man in her life, and that's you. Malcolm, I am asking for your blessing, and your permission, to ask your mother to marry me."
For a moment, Malcolm couldn't say anything. He had thought that Gil was just going to tell him that he was going to propose, not ask him for permission. Of course, Malcolm wasn't going to say no, but the simple fact that Gil was asking him meant the world to him. Normally the prospective groom would ask the prospective bride's father, but Malcolm's grandfather had been dead for years, so clearly that wasn't going to happen.
"You- you're asking for my permission?" Malcolm confirmed, straightening up on his barstool. His brows furrowed as he focused more intently on Gil, as if he were just misinterpreting what Gil was saying, and better focus would reveal the truth.
"Of course I'm asking for your permission," Gil replied, every bit at serious and heartfelt as the first time he said it. "You're her son, you've practically been my son too for over twenty years. What you think matters to the both of us very much." He rested his hand on Malcolm's knee, squeezing slightly as he always did as a sign of reassurance.
"Well, of course you have my permission, and my blessing," Malcolm said. "You're so happy together, happier than I've seen either one of you in a long time. You deserve this. Both of you," he said, nodding. Despite himself, he was excited. It wasn't as if his mother were going to say no, so there was a wedding coming up. He was going to see his mom get married. He was going to see Gil get married.
Gil was going to become his dad for real.
Malcolm ran a hand over his face, trying to control his sudden emotions.
"Thank you," Gil said, a soft smile on his own face. "You have no idea how much that means to your mother and I." Malcolm smiled again and shook his head. It was just insane to him that his opinion on something that technically was none of his business held such importance to Gil, and his mother too. Of course, as a concept he knew how much his parental figures loved him, but it never failed to surprise him when that love was so clearly displayed in a real life situation.
"Well, congratulations," Malcolm responded with a wide grin, lifting his cognac. "You're gettin' married, Gil. Here's to you and my mother." Gil took his refilled shot glass and clinked it with Malcolm's before taking his third shot of the night. If Gil had been at all more social than he was, Malcolm would've totally embarrassed him by announcing his upcoming nuptials to the entire bar and buying everyone a shot. But Gil was just a bit too much of a private person for that, and Malcolm wasn't going to put him on the spot like that.
"I have one more question, then," Gil said, barely containing his smile.
"Alright, what?" Malcolm asked after Gil remained silent, only staring at him with a strange look of mischief in his eyes.
Gil leaned forward slightly and rested his hand on Malcolm's knee once again. "Will you be my best man?"
For the second time that night, Malcolm was left speechless. It was one thing for Gil to want Malcolm's blessing or even his permission, but to be his best man? That spot was reserved for the most important man in the groom's life. How could that be Malcolm?
"Really?" he asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper, in awe. "You're sure you want your best man to be me? Not JT or- or-,"
"Yes, kid, I want it to be you," Gil assured him with that smile that never failed to calm his racing heart. Gil moved his hand from Malcolm's knee to the junction between his neck and shoulder, lightly rubbing his thumb up and down. "So, will you do it?"
Malcolm started nodding vigorously, suddenly finding his voice to be all but gone. "Yes," he finally managed to choke out through his emotion. "Of course, yes, I'll be your best man." It was rare that Malcolm that found himself crying tears of joy, but that night, he did, and he couldn't even blame it on the cognac.
It was only a few months after that night at the bar that Gil Arroyo and Jessica Whitly were bonded in holy matrimony. The wedding was simple, but elegant and beautiful in a way that Malcolm hadn't expected. He'd seen the pictures of Jessica and Martin's wedding, and despite the horrendous 1980s fashion, it was extravagant. Clearly no expense had been spared. But this wedding was different. Everything was of the highest quality, but it wasn't gaudy or elaborate in the way that his mother's first wedding had been. This one was far more beautiful, in Malcolm's opinion, and it certainly fit more for Gil. The wedding was the perfect union of both Gil and Jessica's tastes, and it was all the better for it.
Malcolm was impressed with how much his mother had changed and grown over the past year or so. He still clearly remembered the first time his mother told him that she was proud of him and what he was doing as a career, which coincidentally was at another wedding. From that point on, she had only continued to grow, and Malcolm didn't know how to tell her that he was proud of her too. Until she and Gil had started dating, Malcolm never would've guessed that his mother would've been okay with, much less love, a wedding so simple and filled with so few members of societal royalty. But Jessica's priorities had changed, and her need to be accepted by society had severely diminished. Besides, this way, her wedding would be the "hot ticket, filled with mystery, and no one is important enough to get the invite," in her own words.
The ceremony itself was stunning. Jessica's dress was the highest quality, of course, but simple, and elegantly so. Her diamond accessories sparkled in the sun, her ring more than all of them. The rose bouquet she held complimented Ainsley's red maid-of-honor dress perfectly, matching Malcolm's red vest. Ainsley's smaller bouquet of blue roses would match Gil's suit and Malcolm's dress pants. Everything was perfect.
"Are you ready?" Ainsley asked their mother, holding out her elbow for Jessica to loop her arm through as Malcolm did the same. They would be walking her down the aisle together.
"More than I've been for anything, in a long time," she softly replied, a gentle smile on her face.
"You look beautiful," Malcolm added, smiling at his mother's blush.
Right on their cue, the three of them stepped through the doors of the elegantly decorated chapel, and if it were even possible, Malcolm's smile grew even wider at the sight of Gil getting choked up at seeing his beautiful bride walking down the aisle towards him.
At the end of the aisle, Malcolm and Ainsley took their respective places on either side of the bride and groom, and focused their attention on their mother and soon-to-be step-father. Weddings had always been bittersweet to Malcolm, a reminder that other people were getting something that he always thought he was never meant to have. With all of his issues, who would stand by him and choose to be with him, theoretically forever? But at this wedding, there wasn't a single bittersweet thought in his mind. It was pure joy. It was a joy that was expanded upon when the vows were read, when Gil told his love that she "always had been, and always would be, more than good enough." It was a joy that grew when the couple slipped wedding bands on each other's fingers, nothing but love in their eyes. It was a joy that could not be contained when the pastor said "you may kiss the bride" and JT hollered and cheered louder than anyone else when Gil swept Jessica off her feet. It was a joy that Malcolm was going to remember for the rest of his life.
The reception was just as beautiful in its simple elegance. Roses were strewn all about, classic and timeless. Reporters and paparazzi were hounding at the doors, all hopeful to catch a picture of The Surgeon's ex-wife finally marrying again after twenty years, but Gil, being a police officer, had a plethora of colleagues turned friends who provided excellent security. If Malcolm didn't know they were there, he wouldn't have been able to tell.
When it finally came time for Malcolm to give his speech, he was suddenly nervous. Public speaking had never been something that Malcolm had struggled with, and that was something that he was immensely grateful for, but this time, when the crowd hushed and almost all eyes turned to him, Malcolm found his mouth suddenly dry and his pulse racing. Logically, he knew it was only because this was the most important speech of his life, a speech that should adequately convey how much the groom meant to him and how happy he was for the couple, that was what a best man speech was, that he was so nervous. But how could he adequately convey that? He wasn't only the best man, he was the bride's son, and most people, himself and the groom included, considered him to be the groom's son as well. How was he supposed to adequately convey what the couple meant to him? Malcolm had prepared a few words, but he preferred extemporaneous speaking anyway. With a deep breath, Malcolm mentally psyched himself up once more, and began.
"My dad is a wonderful man," he started, smiling at the sudden gasps and strange looks he received. That was to be expected. "Now, I know what you're thinking, 'how could his dad be a wonderful man, he's a serial killer?', and that makes sense, but you're wrong, so bear with me for a minute. My dad," he glanced over at Gil, wondering if he'd figured it out yet. "My dad is the most amazing man I know. He's saved my life again and again, in so many different ways, since I was a little kid. He taught me what it is to be a good man, and there is no one in the world that I look up to more than my dad." Malcolm paused again to look back at Gil, who was smiling, choked up a little bit. Clearly he'd figured it out. "As he has so often told me over the years, blood doesn't have to matter. What matters is who has always been there, and won't ever leave. It's always being there for his child that makes someone a dad. It's taking care of them, protecting them, and forgiving them when they definitely don't deserve it. That's what makes Gil Arroyo my dad. That's what has made him my dad since the very night he arrested Martin Whitly. Yes, The Surgeon may be my biological father, but that doesn't make him my dad. Even before the arrest, when I thought he was my dad, he wasn't. It took knowing Gil to know what a dad is supposed to be." This time, when he looked back at Gil, he didn't look away. "And my dad has been with me through everything, and he has never let me drift away, even when I tried to. He is always there to pull me back and keep me ashore, holding me and protecting me through it all. And who better than that to be with my mother?" Malcolm looked back up at the audience, ignoring his watery eyes that blurred his vision. "Who better to be with my mother than the most amazing man I have ever met? Than the man I've always looked up to, always admired, always wanted to be just like when I grew up? Who better to be with my mom, than my dad?" He grinned and shook his head. "It is only today that my dad becomes my step-father, but Gil Arroyo has always been my dad. My mother has always deserved the very best, and Gil? He is the very best." Malcolm lifted his champagne - imported straight from France, obviously - for a toast. "To my parents, the most amazing people I know. May the love you have for each other outshine the sun, moon, and stars." At his lead, everyone took a sip of their own champagne, and he finally sat back down as the guests began their applause. That didn't matter. All that mattered were his parents.
"Thank you, Malcolm," Gil softly said, quickly wiping at his eyes.
"That was beautiful," his mother added, giving him that smile she only gave him when she was proud of him. If he were being honest with himself, that was his favorite smile.
"It's just the truth," he replied with a shrug and a blush. Malcolm looked away and took another long sip of his champagne.
"Well how am I supposed to top that?" Ainsley muttered, purposely loud enough for just the three of them to hear. She was trying to sound annoyed, but her smile betrayed her. "Here goes nothing," she said, and stood up to give her own speech.
Malcolm turned to face her more, and relaxed into the hand on the back of his neck. He hadn't even noticed that Gil had done that, but that simple gesture meant everything to him. The day was all about Gil and Jessica, but with that one gesture, Malcolm hear his words plain as day.
'I love you too, kid.'