Author's Notes: This one will be a short series, only about three or four chapters. It's... it's total fluff. Thanks for reading!
There was a brief knock and her office door opened, prompting Gillian to look up from her computer. She smiled when she saw it was Emily, in her uniform, backpack over one shoulder, she'd obviously come straight from school. Emily was busy these days with her senior year and wasn't around as much as she had been in the past, so it was nice to see her. Gillian was about to greet her but hesitated, her smile faltering a little, as she saw the furtive way Emily looked up and down the corridor outside before quickly shutting the door. The teenager paused, sighing with relief.
Gillian sat back in her chair. Something was clearly going on.
Emily turned to face her with a smile. "Hi, Gillian," she said brightly, as if there had been nothing strange about her entrance.
"Hi." She gestured towards the seat opposite her desk, eyebrows raised questioningly. "Is everything okay?"
Emily nodded as she came forward and sat down. "Yeah. Oh, that? I had to sneak in, I didn't want my dad to see me here."
"That doesn't sound like everything is okay."
"No, it is, I just wanted to talk to you about something. About Dad," she clarified, before hesitating, glancing back at the door. "Is that okay? If you're busy I can come back some other time."
Gillian hurried to reassure her. "No, it's fine, we can talk about whatever you want."
"Thanks. I just could really use your help with something. And don't worry, it's not as serious as it sounds," she added with a small laugh.
Emily wasn't upset, Gillian decided, and taking in the girl's relaxed demeanour, she began to relax herself. Her curiosity was piqued, however. "So what is it about your dad?"
Emily took a deep breath and began. "I want to get a pet."
Gillian blinked. "A pet."
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure if I just ask Dad, he'll say no. I mean, we've talked about it before, but always more like just joking about it; every time I've tried to bring it up more seriously, he won't even listen. But you can get him to do anything, he listens to you. What I want to know is, how can I ask him so that he has to say yes?" Gillian didn't bother to hide it as her lips twitched in amusement, and Emily shrugged. "I told you it wasn't anything dire."
"You want a pet?"
"I love animals, and I've never had a real pet before - unless you count goldfish, which I don't. I was thinking maybe a cat, I like dogs too, but neither dad or I are home enough to look after one. Cats are more independent, though, aren't they?"
"They generally are, although they still need care and attention every day."
Her family had always had a cat or two when she was growing up. Her mother loved them and the current apple of her eye, a fat orange tabby named Melville, was always the first topic of conversation whenever they were on the phone. Gillian hadn't continued the tradition herself once she had a permanent home of her own, though, initially because Alec had been allergic, and then because she'd just gotten used to not having any pets around.
She was still in favour of cat-ownership, generally, but she wasn't sure how Cal would feel about it. Although it was amusing to picture his reaction to this conversation if he knew about it. The fact that he'd rejected Emily's attempts to broach the subject in the past didn't bode well for the girl.
"So, what do you think?" Emily prompted. "What should be my plan of attack?"
"Shame you don't have a birthday coming up," she lightly joked, playing for time, but Emily jumped on the idea.
"I don't, but he does. What if I just spring it on him, and then it's a gift so he can't return it?"
"Oh, he'd love that," she laughed.
"Well, I once gave him this stupid, ugly papier-mâché box that I made in the fourth grade for father's day, and he said he loved it, and he still has it on his dresser. How could he say no to a sweet little kitty?"
She thought Emily had landed on the answer to her own dilemma there, but before she could point that out she spied Cal through the glass out in the hallway. He glanced over as he passed by, then stopped for a longer look having spotted something out of place; namely, his daughter.
He approached, catching her eye through the glass, wordlessly demanding to know what was going on. She gave a little shrug and a smile to show nothing was the matter, but wasn't surprised when it merely spurred him to reach for the door.
"What-?" Emily began, turning to see what she was looking at just as the door opened behind her.
Cal stalked in and surveyed the scene with the beginnings of a glower, doubtlessly reading signs of deception all over them both. Gillian sighed a little, resigned to what was about to happen.
Emily looked up at him over her shoulder. "Hi, Dad."
He looked from his daughter to Gillian and said, "All right, what's going on?"
"Nothing," said Emily quickly.
Her lips pressed to keep from smiling, Gillian echoed, "Nothing."
It was worth it for the look on his face.
"Dad, do you mind? We're having a private conversation here."
He didn't leave, of course, moving closer instead. His hands on his hips, his piercing stare travelled between the two of them, before focusing on Emily as the perceived weakest link. Or at least the one who couldn't tell him not to interrogate her like a murder suspect.
"What are you two up to?"
"Nothing," Emily said again. "I'm just chatting with Gill."
"Nothing," he repeated.
"Well, something, but it's none of your business."
"Cal, we're talking about you," Gillian interjected, seeing the father-daughter exchange wasn't going anywhere productive.
"And that's none of my business?" Cal said.
"Yes," she replied
"Uh-huh," added Emily.
"This," he waved a finger at the two of them, "I do not condone this. I don't need the women in my life collaborating behind my back. You, if you have a problem with me, you come to me, all right?"
Emily wasn't intimidated, long used to her father at his most belligerent, and this wasn't coming close. She shrugged, a defensive gesture. "I can talk to whoever I want."
"And you," he turned to Gillian, who raised expectant eyebrows at him, "You - you just - you remember you're supposed to be on my side. Talk me up a bit with this one. Whatever I've done, it was probably her fault." To punctuated the accusation he reached out and doffed his daughter lightly across the head, quickly sidestepping to stay out of range of retaliation. Emily swiped back at him, with a giggling protest, but he was already on his way out the door. He leaned back through the doorway to say, "And you tell me everything later, right?"
"She won't tell you anything!" Emily insisted, swivelled round in her chair.
"Female bloody solidarity is it? You'll be lucky."
He disappeared then, and Emily sat back round in her chair with an irritated huff, smoothing her tousled hair. After a moment she heaved a deeper sigh and simply said, "I should have just called."
"It's okay, he knows it's nothing too serious or he would have seen it. He was just being..."
"Him. Yeah, I got that." Emily took her phone from her pocket and checked the display. "I should go, the library's only open till five and I'm supposed to meet Holly there to get her Biology notes."
Gillian ushered Emily out with promises to continue their conversation later, and an added assurance that she'd deal with her father. Try to, anyway.
She found Cal pacing behind several staff members who were hunched over the monitors in the lab in obvious duck-and-cover mode. When he glanced round to see her come in he turned fully, grabbed her arm, and propelled her back out through the door.
"Right then, out with it."
She returned his fierce expression with a level one of her own. He was using belligerence and physical proximity to unsettle her, but it was an overreaction on his part and they both knew it.
She waited a beat till she saw him mentally, if not literally, back off. Then calmly she spoke. "Emily said to tell you goodbye."
"Oh she's run off, has she? There's a surprise. Well I'll deal with her later."
"Cal, isn't it a good thing that we're friends, and she feels she can talk to me?"
"You know I want that, it is a good thing, but that doesn't mean -"
"She won't come to me, however, if she thinks she can't trust me."
"She's my daughter."
"And I would tell you if there was anything you needed to know. I promise you it's nothing you need to worry about, she's fine."
"Yeah," he said, reluctantly acknowledging what he had already figured out back in her office as he saw the truth again on her face. "Yeah. She's fine, but I'm not, am I? You're up to something. What is it, something I've done, or something she's done? Or something she's going to do? It's not about a boy, is it?"
His pained face made her laugh, even as she chastised him. "Cal, don't interrogate me, please. And don't go home and do the same to Emily, it's not fair to her. She has to be allowed to have secrets, she's at an age where simply knowing that her parents trust her to begin establishing her independence can be very important."
"I asked the right question in there somewhere, didn't I?"
"You're really not going to listen to me?"
"Are you really not going to tell me?"
"Fine, you got me. It's your birthday next month, Emily and I are planning a big surprise party."
"See, you're lucky that was a lie, because I'd hate to have to do some planning of my own. Double homicide."
She laughed again and began to walk away, the grin persisting as he dogged her heels. "A big party," she insisted, "With balloons and cake and everyone you've ever met jumping out from behind furniture to celebrate your special day."
"Can't believe you're not going to tell me. Give us a hint?"
"I'll give you some advice." He rolled his eyes, but then halted her in her tracks by stepping out in front of her, prompting her with a look to go ahead. "Trust her," Gillian said. "Or you could, I don't know, trust me, your loyal friend and colleague."
There was no response from Cal for a while. Nothing verbal, anyway.
This time it was Gillian rolling her eyes as she took his arm and began guiding him away from where they were currently blocking the corridor. "Come on, let's go get some coffee. You're just going to keep staring at me in the hopes I'll reveal some deep, dark secret; I think I need a pick-me-up." He let himself be led, though he quickly shook off her hold and wrapped an arm around her waist instead.
"I've never met a nut I couldn't crack, you know," he said right in her ear in what might have been a menacing fashion had she not been so very well schooled in the ways of Cal Lightman over the long years of their acquaintance.
She patted his chest. "Decaf for you," she said. "Maybe some chamomile."
She was starting to think Emily's idea mightn't be a bad one at all. If anyone could use a lovable, stress-relieving presence in his life, it was Cal.