Gail had, to her great annoyance, spent the entire time pacing. She looked at the clock frequently, and then growled when the hands hadn't moved much.
She didn't know where she stood with him, or even where he stood with her.
But he was all she had left of her old life, a life she'd loved, for all it's flaws.
His knock made her heart skip and she rushed to the door.
"McCarthy." Her cool tone was nowhere near as indicative as the smile-turned-smirk that crossed her face, or the urge to throw her arms around him that she gave into without a second thought.
He was hers, and that was all that she needed to know.