TITLE: Date from Hell
GENRE: Humor/Romance
CHARACTERS: Cal, Gillian, Loker
PAIRING: Cal/Gillian
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: None
WORDS: 4,100
SUMMARY: Oh dear, that was not how he was hoping for this to go.
[ Where it goes wrong the first time. ]
In all truth, he had been gathering the courage for this for nearly two years or so. It was a weird thing to do for somebody who acted on impulse as much as he did. But then: When it came to her, everything was different anyway.
He had tried this two nights ago already. And he had turned around a couple of steps before reaching her office door and felt stupid, while Torres watched and probably constructed her own version of the truth in her head. He just shot her an evil look on the way back to his office, remembering that there was this awful case on his desk he could assign to her as a small punishment.
Now he was here again; only a couple of steps to take, but a huge leap to make when he thought about it. But thinking only complicated things more. It had bought him to a place of hesitation and missed chances. The moment was never right or good enough, so this one was just as suitable as any.
He didn't bother knocking and just waltzed in like he always did. So far, no suspicion raised. She was not behind her desk, but standing close to a shelf with books and going through the pages of one of those.
"Hi," she greeted him briefly and with just a short moment of giving him her attention. He remained by the door, while she remained in her own place. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked after some seconds full of uncomfortable silence.
Oh dear, that was not how he was hoping for this to go.
He pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans—his place of safety and confidence—but he simply felt out of place and sheepish. "Just wondered what you were up to."
She sighed with some frustration that might not have been directed at him. "I'm trying to finish my paper for next month's Journal of Psycholinguistic Research. God, this one passage is driving me crazy."
"Want me to take a look at it?"
"I've got to figure this one out first. I'll give it to you later, so you can read it. I hope it's worth all the effort and brings in some new cases." She ended it with another unnerved sound.
He nodded and started his slow retreat. First a step back, then another one to the side, so she gradually slipped out of his field of vision. For a moment he wondered who he was, who he wanted to be, and felt the weight of his hands still in his pockets. He turned around and just stopped thinking. "Actually, there is something you can help me with."
It got her attention almost immediately. She even looked alarmed for a second. "Sure."
He cleared his throat, feeling the rational thoughts taking over his brain again. He shoved them aside and moved his foot accordingly in the process. "You could go on a date with me. Tonight."
Surprise, wonder, fear, suspicion, rejection. All in a nanosecond. "Has this to do with a case?"
He didn't expect that question. "No. Actually it has to do with me wanting to take you out on a date. Shocker, I know."
There were some more things happening on her face, but he forced himself to stop looking for them, because they were likely to only disappoint him further. He was inclined to just let it go, tell her it was all a joke, laugh, and leave before it could get any worse. But there was this other part of him that wanted it. He had made it to this point; why not pushing it further?
"I have a lot of work to do," she said and sounded guarded. It might have been the truth, but mostly an excuse.
"Well, I can help you with anything you want me to."
"I don't suppose you want to deal with the horror that is the monthly tax report." She smiled a little and in a way it was sad. He wondered what that was about.
"I could imagine worse. Like you not wanting to go on a date with me."
She didn't reply right away and just walked over to her desk to relieve it of one big folder and some more lose paper. She took it all over to him still standing close to the door and pushed the pile lightly against his upper body. "In this case, it's on."
[ How not thinking helps with nothing. ]
The evening air was crisp and clear. In fact, it was nothing like what was going on in his head. Jumbled up thoughts were colliding with each other every few seconds and he had to remind himself of not overthinking it all. He just had to let it happen and see where it was all going.
His index finger ran over the bell button a couple of times before actually pressing down. He took a step back and retreated to the hands-in-pocket stance that now felt a little different. Not as much confidence as it used to have.
She opened the door quickly, but hesitation took over in a matter of seconds. He watched her face darken and got confused just staring at it.
"Oh," she said surprised and examined his suit sans tie, "you didn't mention it was the fancy kind of dinner."
Only then he was able to take his eyes off her face and further down to where she was wearing a nice but casual combination of jeans and a silky kind of shirt. He slapped himself mentally as hard as it was possible. It was probably over before it had even started.
"Oh, I guess I forgot about that part." Then he backpedalled, because he had actually sworn to be nice and gentlemanly tonight. He had to try with a compliment to save the situation. "I mean, you look really nice."
"Just not nice enough," she concluded and pressed her purse into his hands. "Give me ten minutes."
Then the door slammed shut, and he was left on his own with thoughts that couldn't quite grasp how much of a fool he was. He wouldn't have bothered, unless when it came to her.
[ Where more things go wrong. Humiliatingly so. ]
The first obstacles were taken down. She was sitting on the passenger seat of his car, a small smile on her face she wouldn't admit to, and with a dress that promised to keep him on the edge of his seat all night. Life was exciting and life was good. He just needed to keep it going and who knew what would come out of this.
He parked the car close to the restaurant and they both got out onto the sidewalk. "Are you taking me to Vidalia?" she asked and seemed a little impressed. "I hope you have enough money on you, 'cause I'm not just going to make do with one course."
"You been there before?"
"Actually, Rader invited me a couple of weeks ago."
For a moment he choked on his own spit and probably a part of his ego. "You went out with Rader?" Awesome. He was taking her to a place where this tosser had already swooned over her.
"Relax, he just wanted to catch up. And who am I to pass up on an expensive dinner somebody else is paying for?"
"You seemed mighty reluctant when I asked you."
She gave him the look. The one that told him to back down, but made him furious all the same. For the sake of a hopefully nice evening he decided to let it go, but not without muttering one last phrase of disapproval under his breath. "I can't believe you went out with Rader."
"Can we stop talking about him?"
He nodded, but he couldn't help noticing how his mood had turned slightly sour. This was supposed to be something special. A one of a kind thing, not a repetition of an evening that had already happened to her with somebody that wasn't him.
But then he looked at her walking next to him in this stunning dress and with the slight smile on her lips he had seen in the car. It made it impossible to be cross with her, the universe, or Rader for that matter.
He held the door open for her like somebody with better manners than him would do, and entered the restaurant after her. A waiter already greeted them and pushed his spectacles further up on his nose.
"Good evening. May I have your reservation please?"
"It's Lightman", he said and gave Gillian a slight smile of his own while waiting for the guy to find their table.
The waiter looked through the book of handwritten reservations. His index finger ran down the list of names, but after some seconds he started again from the top. And again. And again. Cal slowly but steadily got nervous.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lightman, but I can't seem to find your name on here. Let me check our computer system." He went away and left them both waiting by the door.
"This is not my day," he stated and earned a sympathetic look from her.
"I'm sure he'll find it." She touched his hand for the briefest of times and maybe there was some hope.
The waiter came back eventually, but the expression on his face promised all but a good ending. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lightman, but we took down a reservation for you for tomorrow night. You rescheduled a couple of times, so maybe there was a mistake."
"Great", he just muttered and didn't even dare looking at Gillian.
"I wish I could offer you a table for tonight, but we're fully booked. Really sorry about that."
He searched for a hole opening up in the ground to jump into right away. This really was getting worse by the minute. The look on her face, however, was more amused than disappointed.
While exiting the restaurant without him even remembering to hold the door open this time, she chuckled lightly. "You rescheduled the reservation a couple of times? Who were you trying to go out with?"
This time it was her who earned the look. "Angelina Jolie was not available. Had a lot of work to do."
[ Things do not get better. ]
He had broken into a sweat. The third remotely nice restaurant in the neighborhood had turned them down, because it was an unbelievably busy Friday evening. Maybe it wasn't only him who had found the courage to ask the lady of his desire out. Or it was simply the world mocking him.
Probably the latter.
They were back in the car and his clammy fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly. His eyes were on the streets, not daring to wander back to her for fear what he would see. He could try to be nonchalant about this, laugh, and mock the world back together with her, but for some reason beyond recognition for him he just couldn't. This was dead-serious.
He forced his brain into finding new options, but instead he just got an everything but helpful voice stuck in his head: Told you it would end in disaster.
From the corner of his eye he noticed her shifting around in her seat. "Cal, I'm really hungry. I skipped lunch, so my last meal was about twelve hours ago."
He looked at her alarmed. "You should have said something. Or prepared better for the disappointment that is a date with me."
Her smile was forced and hunger really seemed to have crushed her mood. Now it was two of them in the car. He looked around and saw nothing but the wildly flashing sign of a fast food restaurant nearby. "There's a KFC, if you fancy dead animals in a bucket."
She shrugged her shoulders. "They have a frosted chocolate chip cake that is decent."
"Are you serious?" he asked and slowed the car down just to decipher whether she was.
Another shrug. "Yeah. I could do with a bucket full of greasy chicken parts. I'm wearing the right dress for it."
He checked again, but couldn't detect a lie.
[ There's improvement. For now. ]
They were sitting on cheap plastic chairs. In a pressed suit and an expensive dress. A bucket in front of them. Fingers greasy, but the worst hunger allayed. Crisis averted. Somehow.
At least they were pretty much the only customers in here. It presented ample opportunity for the youthful staff behind the counter to whisper about what could possibly have happened to those two strange people.
He smiled at her. "They must think we're a very sad old couple."
She shook her head and fished another chicken wing from the container. "No, they think we're mighty cool and they would love to be just like us when they're our age. Fight the establishment and all that."
He laughed. "As a father of a cheeky teenager, I can assure you that you lost yourself in wishful thinking there. We represent what makes them afraid of old age."
"If you call me old once more, this date ends right here and I'll storm out with the rest of the food."
"Oh, please don't take the food," he whined. For the first time it seemed like they were having fun and he grinned broadly. He took in the sight of her in that stunning dress in the midst of that sleazy surrounding. Maybe they were meant to end up here.
But there was one thing that still occupied his mind like an itchy bee sting. "So, was the date with Rader any better?"
She didn't flinch. "Oh, that would be an unfair comparison."
"Why? Because Rader actually managed to get you into Vidalia?"
She smiled with the knowledge of something he didn't have a clue about. "No, because I like you much more than him." She just left it at that and nibbled on her piece of chicken.
"That's because there's absolutely nothing likeable about this guy." In fact, it put her compliment into perspective, now that he thought about it.
She rolled her eyes and cleaned her fingers on a napkin. "Instead of being jealous, could you maybe get me a piece of that chocolate cake I was talking about?"
He got up and ordered it from one of the amused teenagers. "You should improve the level of romantic ambience here", he quipped and watched the teen's face turn from quizzical to confused.
A minute later he returned to her with the dessert and slid back onto his seat.
"Doesn't look too bad," she said after some inspection.
He leaned over to her and got as close as the table allowed. His eyes were on the cake in front of her. "It's probably made of chicken as well," he whispered and grinned.
[ In which a fire starts. Literally. ]
He tripped on one of the stairs leading up to her front door. The situation where he was lying face flat on the ground could be narrowly avoided, but it had already played out in his head to a point where he was afraid of every step that was about to come.
She was fast to grip his arm and make sure everything was okay. "This really isn't you day", she declared and yes, he knew that much already.
They arrived at her door and she just kept looking at him with a mixture of delight and compassion. Actually not one of those emotions he saw in her office earlier was visible now. The air was lighter, but the knot in his stomach still twisted in the weirdest ways.
She smiled at him and maybe she saw some of the battles going on inside of him. "Thank you," slipped from her mouth and right into his heart.
"What for?"
"This evening."
"I don't feel like there was a lot to be thankful for."
She didn't reply, but her smile remained. She was waiting for something or maybe he was just misinterpreting clues. After a couple of moments of her not moving he had a fleeting thought about maybe making the first move himself.
He closed the distance and lowered his mouth slightly into the direction of hers. Maybe it was just going to be a kiss on the cheek, the corner of her mouth, or maybe it wasn't, but his heartbeat accelerated either way.
There was no hesitation, no doubt he saw in her expression, so he closed his eyes and let it happen. Not thinking, not rationalizing, not looking for any scientific explanations. He felt the velvety touch of her lips eventually.
Time stood still, but his cell phone unfortunately didn't. It vibrated heavily in his jacket and the sound of it threw her off as well. She broke away and looked in the direction of his inside pocket. His head was too slow to understand what was happening, because it was still captured in the moment of a second ago. The moment where everything felt bloody brilliant.
"Don't you wanna get that?" she asked and pointed to where the phone kept on vibrating.
He took the phone out and looked at it perplexed. "It's Loker, that idiot."
"You did not promise him a date as well, did you?"
He sighed, rolled his eyes and rejected the call to quiet the disruptive device again. "This is more than just not my day," he complained. "It's a conspiracy."
"We could always try again."
"With where we left off?"
She looked at him with something in her eyes he could only interpret as lust. "Remind me where we left off again."
He was unable to move for some seconds, just stuck in his place staring into her eyes with his own kind of desire, but with hesitation and the remnant traces of fear as well. He shook it off eventually, yet his movement to touch her lips was just as tentative as it was the first time. Then it was velvet mixed with the sweetness of her again.
And just some moments later his phone rang once more.
He broke away and apologized with just his eyes. "I'm gonna kill him. Either that or he'll be shining my shoes for the rest of my life."
She still seemed amused and just shrugged her shoulders. "Didn't think you'd care about shiny shoes."
"Anything to see him with his head bowed down."
"Don't you think you better get that? Might be something important if he's so persistent."
He got the still vibrating phone out of his jacket and swiped a finger over the display to take the call. "You're gonna suffer for this," he greeted Loker on the other end.
"What? You already heard?" Loker asked perplexed.
"What? What the hell are you talking about?"
"The fire. There was a cable fire in the lab, but I got it under control. One of the computers didn't make it out alive, though."
"Awesome. Did you fall asleep smoking or what?"
"No, it just happened. Better be grateful that I was still there to do some damage control."
"So now what?" He shot her an apologetic look and asked her with a swift movement of his hand for a little more patience.
"The guy from the insurance needs one of the policy owners to come here and sign some papers. So it's either you or I'm going to call Foster, I guess."
"Bloody hell, you really know how to ruin an evening."
"So are you coming then?"
"Yes, so I can kill you with my own bare hands."
He hung up and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Bloody hell, of course a fire had to start somewhere."
She just chuckled and wiped a little lipstick from the corner of his mouth.
[ It's a travesty. ]
They arrived at the Lightman Group to the faint smell of something burning and an array of people that made the place look odd at that time of the night. Between a police man, two firefighters who seemed rather bored, the caretaker of the building, and somebody from the insurance taking notes, they found Loker watching the hullabaloo from his chair in the lab.
His eyes narrowed when he spotted the two of them with their fancy clothes. "Were you two on a date?"
Cal gestured Loker to get up and be somewhat helpful with whatever needed to be done. "No, we went to KFC."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Shut up," he said and critically examined the damage done to the lab as well as the evening with her.
[ You could say it ends okay-ish. ]
They were back at her front door an hour or so later. He didn't trip on his way up the stairs this time, but this was about all of the good things that had happened this evening.
The air from his lungs escaped heavily and full of regret. Yet he couldn't help smiling when he looked into her eyes and remembered the steps that had brought them here. "I'm sorry for having dragged you through this horrible evening."
She didn't seem bothered and did this little shrug again. "You know what; I liked it."
"You must be kidding. Did you lose your sense of romance when we were sharing chicken wings?"
"I think it was when we were debating over which cable might have caused the fire."
"I still think it was Loker's doing."
"Give him a break."
He grinned and didn't know how to go on. Either possibility seemed loaded with the danger of even more going wrong. Maybe he just needed to accept that this wasn't his day and move on to another, hopefully better one.
The way she avoided his eyes for a while and uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other, made it seem like she was going through something similar in her head. She looked at him eventually and this time it was her who apologized with a flicker of emotion going over her face.
"I'm not going to invite you in," she said and he was glad it was her who broke the silence. "I mean, God knows what could happen."
He nodded. "I can think of one thing that could happen, but then it's somehow more likely that one of us ends up in hospital. Probably me. I don't think I can take it."
She smiled and nodded as well, taking a step closer to the door.
He took the sign and backed off as well. But only to approach her again a couple of moments later. The classic back and forth on her doorstep—a manifestation of what had been going on between them for years, really. "Can we do this again? Maybe the right way?" he asked, hands in pockets once more.
"You still have that table booked for tomorrow, don't you?"
"At the restaurant Rader already took you to?"
"You really have a lot of unfinished business with this guy, don't you think? I know a good therapist."
He thought about it, but there was no way he ever could let this tosser go. "That guy—you know, he stole from me before."
"And you're afraid he'll steal from you again?"
He didn't reply, but let her know with his silence that everything was possible. Then he closed the distance between them and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she repeated, smiling.
He started leaving and was happy about going with a rather good feeling after everything that had happened. A feeling that promised more; maybe even something wonderful. But he remembered one thing from this afternoon that wouldn't leave his mind so easily.
He stopped again and turned around. She was still standing in the exact same spot. "You know, there was a flash of fear on your face when I asked you out," he stated without really judging. It was just an observation that had made him wonder.
"Seems I was right to be afraid."
He smiled. "I hate it that you're always right."
"I hate it that you always think you're right."
He turned around again and made it to the steps when he heard her voice.
"Cal?" He faced her one last time. "I really hope tomorrow is your day."
THE END