Author's Note: This is the only fanfiction I have ever written. After reading my friend's second novel (first one's getting published now actually…Congrats Dan!) I felt the urge to do a little creative writing, and since I do not have the patience to write anything real long this seemed a good option.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lie To Me, or any of the characters from the show, Fox does. Which is a shame, really, because Tim Roth is rather attractive and would be quite delightful to own. Also the story title and chapter title are both from the song "BloodBuzz Ohio" by the Nationals (which also does not belong to me whatsoever).
Stand Up Straight at the Foot of Your Love
Dr. Cal Lightman, the first FBI-sponsored human lie detector, leisurely leaned back in his office chair, his feet resting between the jumble of papers on the desk in front of him. The scotch in his hand was burning smoothly all the way down his throat as he pondered the details of the neatly solved case that had been consuming himself and his team all week. The husband, cheating bastard that he was, had been the abductor as well, taking his three-year-old daughter from his wife in the middle of the night after beating the woman half to death with her bedside lamp. Absolutely disgusting, but as always the discovery of the truth came with it's own strange satisfaction. The scotch merely added to this brief fleeting moment of contentedness, the one that always occurred in that precious time before the dangers and unanswered questions of a new case emerged to take the place of the ones before. He glanced up briefly from his bout of introspection to see her walk past his door, her high heels clacking across the floor noisily, her figure nicely framed as always in a tight yet professional dress.
"Oi, Foster!" He shouted from his still reclining position, causing her to abruptly turn and lean against his doorway with a genuine, but tired, smile etched across her pretty face, "What are you still doing here so late? Can't get enough of me, luv?"
She laughed exasperatedly just like he had known she would, sauntering a little farther into his room to collapse in a delicate heap in the chair directly across from him. By the time she even thought to ask for a scotch as well, he had poured one and it was already waiting just in arms reach.
"Why am I still here? Doing your paperwork obviously. Please tell me you haven't actually forgotten that cases cause paperwork." She quipped light-heartedly, sipping the scotch slowly, savoring its strong flavor, "The real question is: what are you still doing here?"
He leaned back even further, looking her over with a small smirk flitting across his face, "Well, Zoe has Emily, so I figured getting a little sloshed in my office instead of sitting at home doing nothing might be a good plan of action. Please feel free to join. We can relive your old college days, you know…keg stands, wet t-shirt contests."
"Wet t-shirt contests? I have a rather nice psychology degree Cal, I certainly didn't spend my time at college partying like a horny sorority girl" She smiled, finishing off the first scotch, which was very quickly refilled by a second, "I was a good girl. I studied."
"Good girl?" Cal scoffed, always pleased at the opportunity to tease his all too innocent partner. The pudding, the orange slushies, her relentless support of him despite his very numerous brushes with mayhem and foolishness? Evidence of a beautiful naivety he could certainly appreciate, but never fully understand. He felt there must be another layer behind this easy simplicity, and teasing her until her face finally showed enough proof of this seemed like the most personally enjoyable option,
"As I seem to recall from a certain fake marriage, your greatest fantasy is to be shagged while tied up. Good girls don't like naughty little activities like that, now do they luv?" That image had been burned into his subconscious since the moment when he had first realized that her desire for some light bondage wasn't actually an act, but he knew his joking façade easily hid the arousal that flashed in his eyes just thinking about it again.
Her face wasn't quite as difficult to read, a light blush creeping from her chest up to her cheeks, a short intake of breath as she recomposed herself in order to hide any and all microexpressions.
"Don't be silly Cal, I was merely playing the part of sexually adventurous house-wife. Perhaps I am just a better liar than you think?" Her face almost mirrored his expression of casual jest, but the slight dilation of her pupils, the increased respiratory rate, and the still fading hint of blush in her face revealed her true feelings about the subject to him almost immediately. Cal didn't know what made him do it…most likely a combination of scotch and sheer curiosity, but suddenly he was out of his chair and behind hers, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, his warm breath tickling at her earlobe.
"Liar," he whispered huskily against her throat, eliciting another sharp intake of breath from Gillian as she tensed slightly under his touch, "You've thought about it haven't you? About some man taking you while you're completely tied up and at his mercy. But not just any man…even for you to imagine it, it would have to be someone you trust a bloody lot, wouldn't it luv? Someone you know quite well."
It didn't surprise her that he could guess that she had fantasized about him; come on, he reads faces for a living, but the fact that he was talking like this, touching her like this…that part was certainly unexpected. Their light sexual tension had just always existed and she thought it always would, both of them experiencing it but ignoring it, attracted to each other while still constantly sharing their bodies with other people. But now, Gillian wasn't sure what to do. She knew if she didn't take this opportunity he'd pretend it was all a joke, and their partnership and semi-platonic friendship would continue on as normal, but was that what she really wanted? Thinking of her cold lonely bed waiting at home she made up her mind, it was time to see if Dr. Lightman would follow through with any of his sexual banter.
Knowing that his words had ruffled Gillian gave Cal a pleased sense of satisfaction. He always enjoyed these kinds of situations, in and out of an interrogation, where he had complete control. It was an almost dominant predatory need to be the one in charge. This made it all the more disorienting when Gillian swooped to her feet, closing the distance between their bodies, lightly grazing his chest with her manicured fingertips as her tongue darted out to lick lightly up the side of his neck.
"Hmm, I wonder who that man might be…" She crooned in a tone of voice that Cal was completely unacquainted with, but that instantaneously spiked his already apparent arousal. This night was hardly turning out as he had planned, he thought, as his hands seemed to glide on their own accord over her slim figure. He always knew that this was where he hoped their relationship would end up, but Gillian truly was his blind spot when it came to his own science. Needing to be sure that she truly wanted it as bad as he certainly did, he double-checked the wanton desire clearly displayed all over her face one last time. With that final assurance he crashed his lips to hers, forcefully pushing her body back up against the bookcase, her ardent moan only encouraging his ravishing touch. Biting at her bottom lip, he unzipped her dress, letting it fall unnoticed to the floor, his rough hands stroking across the soft bare skin of her back. He took the opportunity to pull away slightly, catching his breath, to peruse her gorgeous body clad in classy black lace lingerie, her pupils so wide and dilated that her eyes practically matched their color.
"Cal…" She pleaded so softly and seductively that it took all his self-control not to just throw her over his desk, pull her panties aside and jackhammer into her, "Please touch me."
She could hardly believe this was actually happening, here, in his office where hypothetically anyone could walk in. She had thought about sleeping with him, obviously… after the number of long years they worked together some amount of fantasizing was inevitable. But since months had past since her divorce without Cal expressing any overt interest she had assumed she misinterpreted his over-protective nature as attraction, and finally just resigned herself to other men.
The thought of other men was rapidly stricken from Gillian's mind as he began to kiss her delicate throat, one hand slowly sliding into her panties to caress her already damp pussy. She couldn't help but cry out softly in pleasure as her partner and longtime friend pushed two fingers inside of her tight sex, his thumb lightly stroking her clit in slow circles. Cal's arousal-darkened eyes clearly enjoying watching her squirm under his expert touch only made her hotter and more impatient. Gillian didn't even care that she was practically naked and he still fully clothed, she needed this- she knew now that they both had needed it for too long.
"So…" Dr. Cal Lightman murmured softly in Dr. Gillian Foster's ear. Her hips bucked into his hand as his adept fingers stroked her tight inner walls, his other hand undoing his black tie and pulling it from the collar of his equally black shirt, "You've always wanted to be tied up, right?"
Review and let me know what you think! If you want me to actually continue and write the some hardcore smut and the aftermath I'd be happy to oblige.