Alex wasted no time managing the situation with Jacob Rivera, clearly, because Andie’s taxi had barely made it out of downtown before his phone buzzed in the grip of his sweaty hand. He jumped about a foot— he hadn’t even realized he was holding it until it vibrated. Then he read the message to see that Alex was offering to have the police come for Jake. Shit! No. No, Alex, don’t do that. He typed something back to that effect. Even shell-shocked and mid-panic attack, he didn’t want that. He stared blindly out the window for the rest of the cab ride, trying to calm his breathing and detach his feelings from his body.

When the cab dropped him off at home, Andie looked at his empty parking spot in surprise and realized belatedly that his car was at the office. He should have gone back to the office first, not home. But Jake knew where the office was... he had been there the day before. Jake might look for him there. No, home was better. Andie texted Alex that he had gotten home, explained about the car, and asked if Alex minded if he took the rest of the afternoon off.

Andie didn’t have any patients scheduled that afternoon. It was fine. Everything was basically fine. He'd be fine in the morning. You’re fine, Andie. He’d just take the bus to work and get the car tomorrow. He sure wasn’t going out again tonight. Not with Jake Rivera running around town.

For about five minutes after he closed and locked his blessedly secure front door with its cameras and scanners, Andie leaned against it, trying to self-soothe. He knew Jake wouldn’t ever hurt him. It was silly to feel fear, but his poor lizard brain was no good at differentiating between physical and emotional threats, and the steel door and security system were a comfort. Any port in a mental storm.

When Andie’s phone buzzed, still in his hand, he jumped again, although a little less dramatically. This time, it was not Alex, but Gabriel Anderson who was messaging him.

<Gabriel Anderson> Hey, it’s me. Alex said something crazy happened. You ok? Can I please come check on you? I’ll bring beverages! Coffee or booze, your call.

<Andie Freeman> Yeah, it’s… crazy. Just saw my very ex Ex for the first time since I was 17. The one who claimed me. Kind of freaking out right now. No idea how this happened.

<Gabriel Anderson> So, booze then. And you def don’t need to be alone, and I am available. I have some information for you, so can I come over?

Andie stared at the screen. One part of him wanted to be left alone to lick his wounds and freak out in peace. Like… Antarctica-level alone. Possibly for several lifetimes. He’d rejoin the world when he was fine again, in the year twenty-three twenty-three. The other parts of him had gone to therapy and learned that you didn’t have to be fine before you asked for help. Admitting your vulnerability is a form of strength, Andie. Accept needed help when it is offered.

<Andie Freeman> Yeah, please come. This whole thing is insane, and I’m a mess. Definitely booze, not coffee.

Thirty minutes later, thirty minutes that Andie spent alternately staring off into space, tidying things that didn’t need tidying, and walking in circles thinking halves of thoughts while his heart raced with adrenaline, the doorbell rang. Andie jumped again, even though he was expecting it.

He shook his head, disgusted at himself, and rushed to the steel-reinforced door. Checking the monitor, he saw Gabriel looking into the camera and smiling, holding up a bottle. Andie put his fingertip on the pad, and the deadbolt slid back. He pulled the door open.

“Hey. Thanks for coming to Fort Knox. Come on in.”

Gabriel entered and looked around with a smile on his face. It widened when he saw the familiar red couch. “Uh, you know why this place is Fort Knox, right?”

“Because it used to be the shelter space before the Foundation got the row house?”

Gabriel shook his head pityingly. “Oh, my sweet Andie. This Fort Knoxification was brought to you by the letter A. Times three. Alexander Alistair Anderson. This was my apartment when I came back to Baltimore. You don’t know this story?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Well, get ready. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” said Gabriel, waggling his eyebrows. “Mind if I make myself at home and go fix us drinks? My signature drink is a great whiskey sour. Or would you rather have it neat?”

“Ugh, no. Gross. Put sweet stuff in it.”

“Got it.” Gabriel walked into the kitchen and got started, noting with strange satisfaction that the glasses and silverware were still in the same place they’d been in when he’d moved out a few years earlier. It was nice to be back in his old dream apartment and nicer still that the place apparently hadn’t forgotten him. Over his shoulder, he said in a carrying voice, “So, I came to the AAF straight from my clerkship in California. This apartment’s rent was part of the compensation package— it was heavily subsidized by the Foundation. It wasn’t super secure back then, though. Just normally secure, which seemed like plenty since it’s a nice building and a quiet neighborhood and stuff.”

“I know! It’s a really nice neighborhood, but this place is tricked out like I live in an episode of 'The Wire.' I’ve always wondered about that.”

Gabriel laughed with a guilty-sounding heh heh. “Wellllll, not too long after I started work, I got into a little public dust-up with a United States Senator– Thad Daniels– over whether Omegan bodies require a claim in order to function properly.”

“I definitely heard about that. Well done. That so sounds like you.”

“It so does,” confirmed Gabriel. “I can’t keep my mouth shut when people are out there being confidently wrong.” Gabriel returned from the kitchen and handed Andie a drink with a blood orange slice and a cherry on a little bamboo skewer.

"Fancy!" said Andie, reaching for it with a hand that was still shaky. He took a sip, and his eyes widened. “Holy crap! That’s good. That’s dangerously good.”

Gabriel grinned. “I’m a highly specialized mixologist. I make this one drink to perfection. Well, I also pour a mean glass of wine or two fingers of whatever you’re drinking, but that’s about it.”

“This drink is all you know of booze and all you need to know, then,” said Andie with a little smile. “So anyway, you got into it with Thad Daniels…”

“On national television, I should add. So, this fanboy of his broke in here to trash the place and scare me— I wasn’t home at the time or anything. He’s in jail now. The fanboy, I mean. Thad might be, too, if he hadn’t conveniently died of prostate cancer before the grand jury could hear his case. I kind of hope his passing wasn’t easy, know what I mean? Anyway, Alex and I had just started dating when all this went down, and Alex absolutely lost his shit because of the break-in. I mean… you know how riled he gets about a patient being hurt or threatened. Imagine what he was like when it was his mate. His previously assaulted mate. And the guy had been inside my home.”

Andie could imagine that Jake had always been very protective when they were together. Until he wasn’t. Shhhh, brain.“Ah. Thus Fort Knox.”

Gabriel continued, “So, yeah, Victoria, Alex’s mom, you’ve met her by now, right?”

“Oh yeah. I met her back when I was at Vanderbilt, and I got an AAF grant for my ed program."

"Ah, that's right! You rock star. You've known her longer than me, then!"

Andie did some quick math. "I guess so, yeah! I mean, obviously, you know her much better. But she’s taken me out to lunch twice since I started in the clinic. She’s, like, something else. Amazing.”

“Utterly. Anyway, she was all over the security system thing, too. So, after the break-in, I had to shack up with Alex for a little while— well, ‘had to’ is a strong phrase, but I ended up shacking up with Alex while they fixed this place up. Predictably, it accelerated the pace of our relationship pretty dramatically, so I really didn’t even live here again after that. When we got engaged, I moved into Alex’s old place until we found our new one. Since this place was incredibly secure and freshly redecorated, the Foundation bought it and used it as their first shelter for clients in need of secure short-term housing. We outgrew it pretty quickly, though. When the residency program started, we decided to use it for its original purpose— affordable housing for our employees. And here you are!” Gabriel took a sip, and then his expression brightened. “Oh, wait, this part is great. This is the purest example of Victoria being Victoria that I can think of. This couch we’re sitting on?”

Andie looked at him, eyes narrowed, “Oh God. What? Wait. Was Lailah like… conceived on this couch?”

Gabriel laughed and blushed. “No. Well, I don’t think so. That whole thing is a bit of a blur. No, what I was going to say is that the dude that broke in shredded my couch, which was vintage, so it wasn’t going to be possible to replace it with an exact match. UNLESS… your power-player future mother-in-law commissions a custom furniture maker to create a repli-couch.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not kidding. Honestly, I didn’t care that much about the couch; I could have just gotten a new one. It was only vintage because I was a broke law school student, and I got it at an estate sale, but no… when Victoria Anderson fixes something, she fixes the ever-loving hell out of it.”

“It’s a very comfortable couch,” said Andie. “Much nicer than the one I had before. Nice color, too. I can’t imagine having Victoria Anderson for a mother-in-law, though. Intimidating.”

“It’s ninety-five percent wonderful and five percent absolutely terrifying. I’m glad you like the couch. I’m sure the person who made it is probably the sole purveyor of couches to the White House or something. Ok. So. That’s my dirt. Tell me about today. I won’t repeat a thing to anyone, including Alex. I promise.”