A/N: Hello! Violet here! This story is dedicated to IslandGirl892. :)

He was lightning.

That's what I thought when I saw the flash and heard the audacious crack of thunder. Clothed to the form of his profession, he wore a sleek red necktie and striking clarity in his blue eyes. When he pushed open the doors of the Brass Bar, his manner was sharp, just like the burst of lightning behind his unyielding silhouette.

I occupied myself with the twirling of my barstool and the dim orange glow streaming from the lamps and warming my skin. The drink satiated my lips, but my eyes roamed and fixated on the disruption.

Gill Hamilton.

Always a figure of authority, untouchable and quick-witted, just like lightning.

He paused to speak with the patrons at the table nearest the door. Glasses clanged on the wood in unison, some sloshing liquid over the rims. Dale, upon hearing whatever news Gill bore, grunted and scraped his chair across the floor as he stood. He placed money on the table and left. The rest followed suit, and the young blond weaved between tables, delivered his news, and moved onto the next group.

I was finished with my beverage by the time he reached the bar. He didn't smile. He never smiled. It seemed like such a shame with those crystalline eyes of his.

"Hello, Angela. There's a typhoon coming tonight," he said. "I'm advising everyone to go home and secure their property. It isn't safe to be out in the dark when the weather is like this."

I looked to Kathy, the normally enthusiastic waitress, who was gathering up empty glasses from the bar and wearing an austere expression. The bar's cook, Chase, was standing over a sink of soapy, hot water and scrubbing a cast-iron skillet. He glanced over his shoulder at us and gave a wry smile.

"Gee Gill, way to spoil a lady's perfectly good evening."

A glance was spared in his direction. "Well, you would've done it sooner or later. The only difference is my way doesn't end with the lady in tears."

Kathy smacked Chase's arm lightly before he had a chance to argue further. "You shut up. And don't take an hour to wash the dishes this time."

Gill merely watched as I slid off the barstool and placed some change on the counter.

"Thank you for letting me know," I said.

His smile held for less than a second, striking quick and straight into my soul.

And that's how the storm began: with a flash of lightning.

XxX

The next time I saw him, he was the rain.

His lips were pursed in remorse; his eyes were lidded heavily, resembling the low rainclouds; and his clothes were drenched. I stepped away from the window and turned the silver doorknob to meet with his face.

"How nice of you to stop by," I greeted sullenly.

Gill folded his arms across his chest. "I could do without the sarcasm, Angela. I just wanted to see how you were faring after the typhoon. Any property damage?"

"Would you care to step into the pool, formerly my kitchen?" I scoffed. "Any property damage? Goddess, Gill, it's all ruined. The roof is halfway missing. My crops are gone. There is a tree on top of the barn."

He retreated from the porch, grazing his hand across a muddy, wet post as he stepped down. He flicked his wrist and the dirt flew off. Irritation and distaste were masked under the guise of his sharp focus.

Gill removed a tablet from his jacket pocket and scribbled down some notes. I joined him on the only dry patch in front of my house as he scrutinized the buildings. "Roofing damage... crop loss... severe damage to the barn. Your cow is alright?"

"Yeah."

There was silence as he continued to survey the structures. He wrote some more and paused to adjust the collar of his shirt. Then suddenly his eyes were fixed on mine. They were like cyclones, intense, swallowing me up.

"And you?" he asked. The corner of his mouth turned upward into something reminiscent of a smile, but not quite.

"What?"

"How are you?"

"Okay, I guess." I turned away from his gaze and looked out at my ruined fields. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I snapped at you. It's not your fault the weather did this."

Gill placed his notebook back in his pocket. Nothing else was said. He was still looking at me, but I couldn't face those penetrating eyes. Eventually, he began the silent trek toward Flute Fields. I watched him walk all the way down the path, looking so out of place, like an ornate vase on display among tin cans. He disappeared around the hill, and the rain continued to fall, streaking down my cheeks and chilling my skin.

XxX

The typhoon had wreaked its havoc on the entire town. Shops and houses were still standing, but debris blocked paths and violent winds had collapsed bridges. While many businesses closed for cleanup, the bar stayed open. It was the only relief some people could find.

I sat at a table with several others who were looking for an escape, just like me.

Owen called the waitress, Kathy, over to our table and ordered another cocktail. Just as she was leaving, he grabbed her arm and nodded toward the kitchen. "Tell Chase to lay off the spice, would you? I like hot, but this rice is ridiculous."

"Sure thing," she replied. "Want me to have him make you another dish?"

He hesitated. "Ah, no. I have a feeling the next one will just be worse."

Kathy returned to the kitchen, and Calvin drew our attention back to the topic I had been trying to avoid. "So Angela, I heard about what happened to your farm. Think you're gonna make it this season?"

I grimaced. "Subtle. You're very subtle, Calvin. I don't know. I mean, my income was riding on my latest crop shipment, which obviously didn't happen. My house needs major repairs. And taxes are coming due..."

Owen coughed. "Aw, shoot, that's right. Man, this typhoon really messed stuff up. Hey, Ange, I bet Luke can get you a sweet deal on fixing that house of yours."

"I'm sure." Amusement took the form of a smile on my face. "Even if that's the case, I won't be able to afford to grow any crops for a while. Guess I'd better eat up now."

We all exchanged a laugh. No one could tell I was halfway serious.

"Maybe Kath could get you on at the bar, eh? A little extra income wouldn't hurt." Owen shrugged his shoulder.

"And work with that?" I nodded toward the chef in the kitchen, who was currently displaying the milder side of his hot temper. Even so, the irritation in his voice was sharp, like the edge of a knife.

"Goddess, Kathy, just once, could you be somewhere out of my way?" he snapped, loud enough for us to hear from halfway across the room.

Owen laughed and looked back at me. "Yeah, okay, I see what you mean. Don't worry. You're a hard worker. You'll get back on your feet in no time. Especially since you've been awfully friendly with the mayor's son."

"Oh stop, he's just been helping me get my finances in order."

Calvin took another drink of his cocktail. "Do you see him helping anyone else get their finances in order?"

"We're friends. Nothing more. He's nice once you get to know him." I placed a few coins on the table and left.

After the night at the bar, everything got worse. The checks I sent to my mother were growing thinner and thinner. I began to live solely on herbal tea and bread. Emma became ill and stopped producing milk. My fields were unusable, and there was a gaping hole in my roof.

I was a hard worker, but could I work hard enough to dig myself out of this mess?

XxX

Soon, I found that Gill could be anything. Like today, he was the wind.

Just the sight of him threw off my balance and pushed me closer and closer, so my toes were hanging off the edge and splintered wood scraped the soles of my feet.

Gill was standing on solid ground, just before the first board of the bridge. His ashen blond hair writhed for holds on the sleek air stream, and his eyes were whirlpools of atmosphere. I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. "Goddess, Angela, what are you doing?"

"Standing on the bridge," I said simply. "Waiting for something."

He didn't dare step on. Instead, he extended his hand. "Come away from there."

I stared at his long, pale fingers, suspended for the taking. If I touched his hand, I knew the tornado would sweep me up, and I wouldn't be safe anymore, contained and grounded with all this weight on my shoulders.

"Don't be foolish, Angela," he continued. "You can't possibly think this is the answer."

"I'm not going to jump." I curled my hand around the ropes tighter. "I told you, I was waiting."

"Then come here. Please. You could fall." Gill forced a step forward and kept his hand out.

"Maybe that's what I was waiting for."

"Angela." His tone was chastising and exasperated. I felt a twinge of guilt for making him reach so far within himself to find this unfamiliar distress. Distress he shouldn't even have had; it was never my intention to jump.

I placed my palm in his and stepped away from the edge and the rushing, frigid waters below. "I've found that my best ideas come to me on the brink of my demise."

Gill shook his head.

"You're angry with me."

"No, Angela, I'm not angry. What a thing to say! You're standing on the edge of a bridge, barefoot, in gale force winds. Nobody who does that is simply waiting for something."

"You're wrong. I was waiting. I just didn't know what for. Maybe a grand idea. Maybe my death." I wanted him to stop me there and be the person to tell me everything was going to be okay. That I was okay. "Maybe you."

Gill folded his arms across his chest. "And what if none of those things came along? Would you have jumped then?"

"No, I can't. My mother is waiting for me."

"Your mother lives in the city."

"Yes. She's ill, terminally so. I either save money for a trip to be with her, or send it to alleviate medical costs. I chose the latter."

Gill's stern expression softened. "You can't help her if you're dead."

"I know that." I stepped off the bridge and looked up at him. "I appreciate your concern, but really, it's unneeded." Even as I said it, I knew I didn't want him to believe it.

"Will you do me a favor? Stay off the bridges for a while." He gave a small smile. "And go visit your mother."

"I just told you I can't afford to."

"She needs you," he said. "I'll pay your way."

"I won't accept your money."

"Of course you won't. Not unless I get something in return. So, tell you what, I'll help you with boat fare to the city if you let me come with you."

"Why would you want to visit my mom?"

He sighed. "My mother passed away when I was young. I know what it's like, Angela. You can't think of what you should say until it's too late. Sometimes it's helpful to have a reminder."

When his eyes traveled across my face, I felt myself being sucked into the tornado. He touched my hand for less than a moment and began walking down the path. My feet were beginning to lift off the ground, and I knew I was falling into something I wouldn't be able to stop. The tornado that was Gill Hamilton.

XxX

On an avenue lined with linden trees, nestled in a blanket of ivy, there was a modest brick home and a painted red mailbox with the numbers 456 in black on the side. A mossy stone path led up to a door. A welcome sign bore the cursive script, "Miller Residence."

A nurse with red curls and dark blue eyes answered my knocking. She smiled at me, brightened more so at the sight of my companion, and led us inside. We walked down the hallway, ornamented with faded photographs and silken floral wreaths, and turned into a room with sallow walls.

My mother was sitting up in bed. She was only fifty-nine, having been the age of thirty-five when she had me, but she looked at least ten years older. Not so much from wrinkles and gray hair, but from her tired eyes and worn smile. At our entrance, she lowered the book she had been reading.

"Hello Mom." I broke from Gill's side to approach her with open arms.

She smiled and her eyes glistened. "Oh, Angela. You're here!"

I sat on the edge of her bed and gave her a hug. "How are you?"

"Ah, fine today. Better now that I have unexpected company. Who's your friend here?"

Gill came forward and extended his hand for her to shake. "Gill."

Mom returned the handshake and smiled. "Ava. Pleased to meet you, dear. Are you and Angela...?"

He shook his head. "No. But Angela's been very helpful to the town. I wanted to meet the woman who raised such a responsible young lady."

I turned my head away toward the window. "Gill..."

The red-haired nurse poked her head in the door. She smiled, revealing teeth in a practiced and customary way. "It's time for your medication, Ms. Miller."

"Yes, of course," Mom replied. She pushed herself further up in bed and a shudder passed through her body. She began coughing, and it soon turned into a fit, violent and hoarse. The nurse motioned for us to leave, and reluctantly, we complied.

Our stay lasted several days and was filled with mornings of fresh waffles, syrup, breads and jams; our afternoons were spent showered in the light of my mother's bedroom. We talked about lost time, the farm, my sister's new husband, and Gill supplied the calming, wise presence I wasn't able to offer. There were moments when I recognized the same fair and genuine poise in him as the lady in the portrait at his house. The woman with the golden honey hair, high cheekbones, and porcelain complexion. His mother.

On the last day, I promised my mom I would visit her soon. But we both knew soon wouldn't be soon enough. The doorbell rang in the midst of our goodbyes. I left to answer it and discovered that someone had left flowers on the doorstep. When I returned to the room, bouquet in hand, I saw Gill standing near my mother's bedside.

He was speaking to her in a soft tone, too soft to hear from the doorway, but I could see it all on my mother's face. She closed her hazel eyes, and as she nodded, a single tear trailed down her face. Her lips formed two little words. Thank you.

I didn't know what he had said to her, and I knew I would never find out. But in that moment, it didn't matter.

All that mattered was the smile on my mother's face and the man who put it there.

XxX

Dozens of new flowers and their green stems poked up through the dirt and greeted me.

That's how I knew the storm had finally passed.

There were rows and rows of chrysanthemum seedlings in my field when I returned from the city. My house no longer boasted a gaping sky-light above the kitchen, and the tree marring the barn had been chopped into lumber, stacked neatly near the back of the house.

My two good friends, Kathy and Anissa, were standing in the field, watering the final row of seedlings. Gill, who was walking by my side, let out a slow breath. "Would you look at that..."

Kathy dropped her watering can and jogged over to us. "Hey! What do you think?"

I couldn't think of what to say. So all that came out was, "Did you guys seriously do this?"

"Yeah," she said. "But it was Gill's idea."

"What?" I looked to Gill, and for once, he was actually smiling. "His idea...? I don't understand."

He folded his arms across his chest. "What did you think I was doing the night I found you on the bridge? Looking for you – duh! And not just to chat. To send you off to the city for a few days to visit your mother while your property got fixed."

"But you didn't even know she was sick."

"No, but it all worked out, didn't it?"

I smiled. The storm was gone, and he was finally the bright, warm sunlight that soaked into my being and dried the rain from my skin.

I closed the gap between us and shut my eyes. It was easy to imagine myself in a castle.

His arms were my impenetrable walls. In his eyes were all the sparkling sapphire gems in the world, showering me in luxury and brilliance. A smile graced his lips and I felt like a queen, under the rulership of his kingdom, his heart.

There was nowhere else I would rather have been. So I said it. I said those three words: "I love you."

A/N: Wow, I have a metaphor for just about everything, don't I? Haha!

IslandGirl has been such an inspiration to me and a faithful reviewer on my story, Caught Clueless, and I just wanted to do something to thank her. I know she likes romance, so I tried to explore the sweeter side of Gill's personality in this oneshot. The progression of their relationship was more or less implied, and the story seemed to be more like a series of connected scenes or drabbles or something. I wrote this in, like, three days when I wanted to spend three weeks on it. It honestly killed me not to drag out the storyline and character development to several chapters. ;_; And my editing time was only... four hours. O_O

I admit the genres of romance and hurt/comfort are definitely not my forte. But I tried my hardest. :)

This is also my giftshot for the Dares Forum. :D

Review please? Thanks so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed!

~ Violet