Here is the story that came of the story idea Linda posed to me on the list. :-) Let me know how you think it turned out...

Given that the Season Finale did not lend much to fanfic on the Jeff & Hilary angle (grr..) I'm going to kind of push things ahead a bit and assume things have been settled . . . sort of. ;-)

This story is respectfully dedicated to Roddy McDowall.

The Mentor

By Michele Savage

Late December 1941

Jeff held the front door open for a laughing Hilary as they returned from lunch.

"Any messages for me, Gertie?" Hilary asked, stopping at the small reception desk.

"Yes, actually," The woman said as she sifted through a pile of papers to find a white envelope. "Here, a messenger brought this over not long after you left."

Hilary saw that the envelope was from the Aldwych Academy. The seal had not been fastened. She gave the harried receptionist a glance.

"It was open when I got it, Hilary, don't look at me," Gertie defended.

Hilary turned and started walking toward the green room, Jeff close behind. "I wonder what Giles wants." She pulled the note out of the envelope and started reading.

She stopped so suddenly that Jeff walked into her, nearly throwing her to the floor. "Hilary," he grabbed her arm, steadying her, and noted that she hadn't even noticed he'd run into her. "Are you all right?"

She turned to him, her face white as a sheet. "He's gone." She blinked a couple times, as if she'd just realized he was standing against her.

Jeff led her into the green room and sat her gently on the couch. "Who's gone, darling?" he asked softly.

"Giles," she said simply, and dropped the letter.

Jeff walked to the sink and poured her a glass of water. "Here." He handed her the glass and sat beside her. Jeff picked up the message and scanned it quickly. Giles Aldwych had passed away that morning. He'd had a lingering illness, but given Hilary's reaction she must not have known. "Mittens, did you know he was sick?"

"No," she said, then took a drink. "Every time I spoke with him, or saw him, he was his usual charming self. If I had known he was ill, I could have taken care of him. Like he took care of me."

Jeff sat back and settled her against him. She lay her head against his shoulder and sighed.

Scott barreled through the swinging doors, "Honey I'm . . . what's wrong.?"

"Not now, Scott," Jeff admonished.

"Sure." He walked to the couch and crouched in front of Hilary. He lay a comforting hand on her knee. "I just wanted to let you know I got the divorce papers signed. Should be all settled within a week."

Hilary closed her eyes and started sobbing. "Why do all the men in my life insist on leaving me?"

"Uh," Scott looked at Jeff with confusion written on his face, "I'm the man you want out of your life, Hildy."

Jeff showed the confused Scott the note that Hilary had received. Realization dawned. "Look, I can leave you two alone--"

He started to get up, but Hilary grabbed his hand, "No. I'd like you to stay, too."

Scott nodded and sat on the couch next to her.

"Giles Aldwych was the closest thing I had to a father . . . and a mother." She asked suddenly, "Do you know how I met Giles?"

"No darling. How?" Jeff prompted

"I was fifteen and studying theatre in a private school in Philadelphia. You see, because I was a Booth it didn't matter what I wanted to do with my life, as long as it took place in a theatre. My mother, whom I hadn't seen since the previous private school, had decided that the school in Philadelphia was perfect. So I was shuffled off to yet another blasted school so she could spend more time ignoring the fact that she had a child."

"Giles was the acting coach in the school and right away, because I was a Booth, he favored me. . ."

March 1915

"You must breathe from the diaphragm Hilary and project your voice outward," Giles Aldwych explained to the young auburn haired girl he stood next to. He pressed against her stomach to show her what he meant. "You certainly want those nice people in the back row to hear your beautiful voice, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I do." She took a deep breath in the way he'd shown her and tried the scene again. "Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo."

"Hilary dear, you are overdoing it. You are looking for a lost lover, not a lost dog," Giles stopped her, before she made his headache worse.

She frustratedly dropped her arms at her side, "I'm never going to get this."

"I'm never going to be an actress," she flopped down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged. "I wish my mother would just let me be what I want to be."

Giles sat next to the brooding girl. "And what would that be?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I'll think of something."

"Well, in the meantime, Miss Booth, lets work on this play you are supposed to be starring in next week." He stood and held out a hand for her to pull up with.

She took his offered hand. "The only reason you gave me this role is because I'm a Booth." She leaned closer to the man and whispered conspiratorially, "Don't you know there is a mark on my family?"

"And what would that be?" Giles asked dramatically.

"Because WE killed Abraham Lincoln," she replied seriously.

Before he could stop himself, Giles started laughing.

"It's not funny! Why are you laughing?" she said in a hurt tone.

"Hilary, dear, you personally did not kill Lincoln. Your great uncle did. That was some time ago, and I am sure that by now the theatre community of Philadelphia has forgiven you," Giles explained.

She huffed.

"Enough stalling, my dear girl. Start from the balcony scene again and remember the people IN the balcony would love to hear you."

1941

"You really didn't want to be an actress?" Scott asked, surprised.

"Oh, I've always wanted to be an actress," Hilary answered. "I just didn't want to be in that play. I thought it too depressing a role for a fifteen year old to play," she explained.

"So, did you do the play?" Scott asked, having noticed the more she talked the better she seemed to feel.

"Of course. It may not have been a role I wanted at the time, but it was a starring role none-the-less."

Jeff nudged her shoulder, "Go on, Mittens."

"Well, I did the play and Giles was very impressed . . ."

1915

"Bravo, Hilary, that was wonderful," Giles clapped the following Monday in class. "You have a natural talent."

One of the girls who sat behind rolled her eyes and leaned to whisper in the ear her friend, "Yeah, a natural talent for being teacher's pet."

Hilary turned, having heard the snide comment and made a face. "The only talent you have is sneaking out the back gate to go the boys school next door."

The girl stuck her tongue out at Hilary.

"Girls!"

When he was satisfied he had his class's full attention again, Giles sat on the corner of his desk. "Now, I would like for you all to begin reading these small scenes," he held up a book, "and tomorrow we will choose partners and act them out. For now, enjoy the evening," he said grandly.

The class emptied quickly, but Hilary hesitated. She was gathering her books when Giles approached her. "I think your Juliet was marvelous."

"Thank you, Mr. Aldwych," she replied halfheartedly.

Giles sat on the desk next to hers. "Is there something wrong, Hilary?"

"No," she answered. "Well, my mother never attended any of my performances. She promised that if I attended the school here, she'd make time to--" Hilary stopped and sat with a sigh. "I don't know why it still bothers me."

Giles lay a supportive hand on her shoulder. "You have got to stop performing for other people, Hilary. Perform for yourself. From what I saw on that stage, you have the natural talent to be a star. Only you can make that star rise, my dear."

She smiled. "Yes. I can be a star." She stood and hugged her teacher. "Thank you, Mr. Aldwych." She started to rush out of the room when he stopped her. "Yes?"

"How would you like to join me for dinner?" he asked. "Unless you would like to dine with Theresa Cumberland," he added, referencing the girl who'd been teasing Hilary during class.

"I wouldn't dine with her if she were the last girl on earth," Hilary retorted. "But I would love to have dinner with you."

"How about the market on the corner? They have a lovely dining area. I'll meet you there at seven," Giles told her.

Later than evening, Hilary sat on a stool boredly waiting for Giles. She had worn her best dress and carefully styled her hair. It wasn't that she was trying to impress Mr. Aldwych like that, she just felt it appropriate to look her best. Even if the diner was more of a casual atmosphere.

The market was closer to a general store and Hilary enjoyed watching the people going about their shopping.

She heard someone climb rather than sit on the stool next to her. She turned and saw a little boy, about six or seven, staring at her.

"Hi," he said, "you look sad."

She smiled, "No. I'm just waiting for a friend."

"Oh. I'm waiting for my mama. She's getting things for Papa's supper," he explained. "You sure are pretty."

Hilary smiled at his frankness. "Thanks." She leaned closer. "Aren't you a little young to be telling girls they're pretty?"

He giggled. "Nah, Papa always tells me you can't ever say enough nice things to a girl."

A rushed looking woman walked up to them. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop running off," she admonished with a heavy French accent to her voice.

The little boy rolled his eyes. "I have to go." He scooted off the stool and took the hand his mother offered. "I hope you get happy someday. Bye." He waved as they walked away. Hilary returned his wave with a smile, then turned back to her soda and took a generous drink.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I was held up by a telephone call," Giles said to her as he sat down on the stool the little boy had just vacated. "What would you like to eat?" He asked, picking up the menu.

1941

Jeff leaned closer and told Hilary softly, "I still think you're pretty."

"You're kidding, right?" Scott interjected.

"No," Hilary responded with a chuckle. "Fifteen years later, we met again in Dallas. It wasn't until after we were married and then divorced that I realized that Jeffrey was that little boy." She gave him a quick glance and smiled. "I'm getting off the subject," Hilary said. "Giles and I had many dinners together. He became my father, my mentor and my friend. I just can't believe he's gone."

"So, how long did you stay at that school?" Scott asked turning her attention back to her memories.

"Well, I was there for the four years, and in that time Giles taught me everything he knew," she reminisced. "I remember the day I finally got my big break."

1919

"Giles! Giles!" Hilary ran into the theatre where her teacher normally held his after school tutoring.

"Hilary, dear, must you come in here squawking like a child? Can't you see I am busy?" Giles admonished.

"I'm sorry, but I have wonderful news!" She said excitedly. "I've been personally chosen to play a role in 'The Belle of the Ball'! It's not a major role, but it's a national tour, Giles," she excitedly said. She danced around the stage, grabbing Giles by the hands and whirling around with him. "This is it, my big break! Oh, Giles, I'm going to be a star!"

"That is exquisite news, Hilary," Giles said. "We must have a celebration dinner this evening. You may choose any restaurant in the city. Nothing is too good for my Hilary."

Oh, thank you, Giles." She pulled him into a big bear hug. Suddenly she turned serious. "I'm going to miss you."

"Nonsense, my dear. Once you become a shining star on Broadway, you won't give your old Giles a second thought."

"Oh, but I will. I'll never forget you."

1941

Gertie peeked her head into the green room. "Hilary, there is a gentleman here from the Aldwych Academy. He'd like to see you."

Hilary stood. "Bring him in here, Gertie."

An older gentleman wearing a black suit was ushered into the green room. "Miss Booth, I am Morris Simpson, Giles' assistant at the Academy. I was told to give this letter to you, after he passed on." He handed Hilary a sealed manila envelope

She opened it and was astonished to find a note from Giles, written in his handwriting.

Hilary,

Giles A Aldwych

"I appreciate you bringing this to me, Morris," Hilary said, trying to speak through the lump in her throat.

"You're welcome, Hilary." Morris replied and hugged her. "He was a good friend."

"Yes, he was," she whispered. "He'll be greatly missed."

Morris broke off the hug and, saying his farewells to the two men still sitting on the couch, turned and left the room.

"What did it say, Darling?" Jeff asked as she sat again between he and Scott.

"Well, I have a Drama School. Or rather, we do," she answered, settling back against Jeff.

"Aldwych Academy?" Scott asked.

"Yes, according to this note he wrote to me, he's leaving the school to my care," Hilary explained.

"Are you sure you want to take that on, Hilary?" Jeff asked her.

She thought for a moment, "Yes I do. It will be my way of giving back to Giles for everything he did for me."

3 WEEKS LATER

"Lieutenant Scotty," Hilary said as she barged into his office, "I have something I need for your expert eyes to look over."

"Can it wait a sec, Hildy? I'm in the middle of a WENN and AFR scheduling conflict," he answered while looking over the schedule sheets.

She sat on the corner of his desk, and grabbed the papers out of his hands. Glancing them over, she replied, "Well, you could bump 'Hands Of Time' for a half hour to run the wartime news. It won't kill Jeff and I to have extra time for lunch." She gave him a wink and then started, "Anyway, what I wanted you to look at are these books. I know Giles drank half his profits, but these look worse than he claimed." She handed Scott the books. "I've already balanced them, but I wanted you to double-check my balancing."

"Okay, set 'em on my desk and I'll get to them this afternoon."

"Thanks, Scotty, you're a dear." She stood and started to leave the room. "Oh, I'll be over at the academy for a bit this afternoon. I'll be back before 'Hands of Time'. Thanks for the extra half hour."

Scott lowered his lids and glared. "You gave yourself that half hour on purpose."

"Me?" She said, shocked, then grinned. "I'll be back in an hour." Scott nodded and went back to his work.

Hilary walked through the front door of the Aldwych Academy and was greeted by Morris.

"Everything is nearly ready, Hilary," he told her.

"Wonderful. Jeff will be here soon with the new sign. Do you think Giles would like what I'm planning for the School?" She asked, wanting the man's opinion.

"I think, Hilary, he'd love it," Morris replied, squeezing her hand gently.

An insistent pounding on the door drew their attention. Morris opened the door to find Jeff struggling with a large sign that looked as if it was winning the fight.

"You can set it over there, Pumpkin." She pointed to a clear area near the wall. "Careful that you don't break it." He gave her a wry grin and set it carefully against the wall.

"Well, let's see it," Hilary said impatiently.

Jeff pulled the brown paper covering away to reveal the wood and stained glass combination sign that read, "The Aldwych-Booth Academy for Radio and Theatrical Arts."

"It's beautiful, Jeff," she complimented.

"I thought you'd like it," he said.

"I do. And I think Giles would have liked it as well."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "I think it's a wonderfully fitting tribute."

"Yes." She pushed away from Jeff and rubbed her hands together. "Well, we have a lot of things to do if we want to make this school work. The first thing I want to do is get us the hell away from this Chinese restaurant . . ."

The End

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