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"I'm late," Cal told the windshield. He reached for his phone. He should call Gillian and tell her that he was only just leaving the house now. He opened his phone directory and all of a sudden her name flashed up on the screen along with 'incoming call'. He slowed for the light and answered. "I'm late," he repeated.

"Oh hey, yeah, I'm just wondering how far away you are?"

"I've just left. So fifteen minutes."

"Ok."

Silence. Awkward silence.

Cal suppressed a sigh.

"Are you driving?"

"Yes," he responded. 'Cos I just said that I had just left the house.' How else did she think he was getting there? Teleportation? At least she didn't ask him if he was on the phone. That would have been just a wee bit too obvious for his tastes. And she wasn't normally that slow on the uptake. Something was 'off'. With her, with him, with them. It had been that way for a while now and he hated that they had become like this. That there was so much distance. But he had no one else to blame but himself. He had done this to them. It had been so easy to shit all over their relationship, but god damn it was hard to clean that shit up again.

"I'll be right there luv," he added gently. Purposefully gently. He wanted to make it up to her, he just didn't quite know how to go about it. Because an 'I'm sorry' was not going to be enough and if he did that he would also have to explain what he was sorry about in particular, and well, not only did he hate to admit he was wrong, she hadn't brought up anything specific. They were just not talking about nothing.

"I'll go then," Gillian announced and disconnected. Cal dropped the phone onto the passenger seat. He rushed. He barely slowed for stop signs and he snuck through lights by rights he should stop for. Somehow, making it to her place within the fifteen minute promise was important. He didn't want to let her down anymore. He pulled into her driveway and felt a pang of nerves. He checked his watch. It had taken him twenty minutes. He knocked and heard her heels on the polished wooden floors of her front entranceway as she came to answer it.

"Hey," she greeted pleasantly, as she always did.

"Hey," Cal echoed. He followed her in and picked up her bag. Without speaking another word they moved around each other while Gillian grabbed a coat and her purse and Cal put her bag in the back of his car and waited for her to lock up. Then they were on the road, crossing the city, then the border into Maryland and then they were on Route 50 heading east. Gillian pulled a leather bound notebook from her bag and started flipping through pages, reading and jotting down ideas. Cal reached for the radio and turned it up. Two hours in the car with her and he suspected conversation was going to be left behind in D.C.

When they turned on to Route 301 Gillian folded her notes away, slid the book back into her bag and sat back in her seat, adjusting her seatbelt over her shoulder. She looked out of the passenger window. Cal wracked his brain. Surely there was something they could talk about. Something. Anything. The weather if he had to. Cal kept going, skipping over work and... god is that all they had to talk about? Work?

"I see it's meant to snow late-a this week," Cal broke the silence.

"Does it snow in Delaware?"

"I was talkin' about DC."

"Oh."

"But," Cal pushed on. "Yeah it does. A little bit apparently. Doesn't hang around much though."

"Did you google it?"

"Yes," Cal confessed.

"Is that what you do when you're hiding in your office supposed to be doing paperwork?"

"Yeah," Cal admitted with a slight grin. He glanced over at Gillian who was smiling lightly. "I google the weathe-a when I'm avoidin' pape-a work."

Gillian laughed and Cal beamed. She laughed! Progress.

"I'm sorry for bein' late this mornin'. Teenage daughta drama."

"That's ok," Gillian dismissed easily.

"I know you wanted to get on the road early."

"Doesn't matter," she turned towards the passenger window again.

Cal was going to push it a little further but changed his mind. She said it didn't matter but her body language said it did. He didn't seem to be able to do anything right at the moment. His finger tapped the steering wheel. Now what?

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'Now what?' Gillian thought, watching the state of Maryland slip by them. He was trying to make conversation but she wasn't in the mood. And yet she knew if she didn't at least try to help them get over this road bump he had built she could kiss their friendship and working relationship goodbye. "I haven't seen Emily in a while," Gillian turned back towards him, studying his profile while he watched the road. "How is she?"

"Packin'," Cal responded. "And drivin' me insane. She won't accept the fact that she can't take every bloody childhood memory with her to California."

"Hm," Gillian responded.

"It was her choice to go to college so bloody far away."

"Isn't it a little early to start packing? She won't move for a few more months."

"Her mutha's idea," Cal waved a hand. "So she can go through her things and give away the stuff she's not gonna need anymore."

"Oh dear," Gillian responded. Hence the fights over what she was going to keep and what she was going to take with her etc. She sighed and hugged herself slightly. Cal reached forward and adjusted the heat just as she was about to ask if she could turn it up a little. She smiled. She liked it when things like that happened. It reminded her that they really were connected underneath it all, and just that they were in a weird space at the moment.

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The conference was being held in the theatre of the Double Tree Hotel in Wilmington on King Street. But it started tomorrow. Gillian wanted to get there early, rather than later, so she could co-ordinate with the organiser, Agent Devin. Cal asked her if that was because she wanted to be organised or if she just wanted to talk to Agent Devin and he was rewarded with an excessive eye roll, a huffy sigh and then pure silence. But the next second she was chatting away to him again and Cal sighed a proverbial breath of relief.

Cal had stayed in some nice hotels during his lifetime and he had stayed in some absolute dives too. The Double Tree Hotel was a nice hotel. They carried his bags inside and parked his car and the woman on the reception desk was very pleasant. In some hotels, even though they were paid to be pleasant, they weren't. Gillian checked them in because she had 'co-ordinated' with Agent Devin on the entire conference. All Cal was instructed to do was update his usual training seminar. He was speaking on the second day.

"What were the names?" The blonde haired desk clerk asked.

"Doctor Lightman and Doctor Foster," Gillian responded and then looked down to her purse to pull out a credit card and ID. So she missed the expression on the woman's face. It went from recognition to fear and then guilt. Or so Cal thought. They passed by so quickly he thought he had missed them at first. But when Gillian looked up again and handed over her plastic and the woman avoided her eye Cal knew he had seen something. He checked her name, Ursula. That didn't ring any bells with him. He'd ask Gillian about it later. In the meantime he studied her face like a hawk while she went through the rest of her process's, issuing key cards and welcoming them. She was clearly uncomfortable and trying very hard to keep her emotions in check.

"Cal," Gillian said louder.

"Huh?" He came to.

"Here," she was holding out his key card. "Four oh seven."

"Right," he took it.

"I'm across the hall," she announced as she turned and headed for the elevators.

"You know the desk clerk?" He pronounced it 'clark'.

"No. Why?" She turned to him with mildly questioning blue eyes.

"It looked like she knew you."

"I doubt it," Gillian responded lightly. "She probably just recognised..."

"Recognised you from the brochure," Cal finished.

Gillian gave him a slight smile. "Jinx!"

"Damn it," Cal muttered under his breath, his chest feeling light.

The elevator came to a halt. "Cussing under your breath counts," Gillian told him stepping out. She peeled off her coat as they headed down the warm hallway. Cal followed suit, watching her walk ahead of him. She stopped in front of her room. "See you later," she offered.

"Yeah," Cal agreed. He slipped his key into the slot and waited for the light to go green. He could hear the lock click and leaned down on the handle. He turned to ask Gillian if she wanted to get dinner with him but her door was clicking shut behind her all ready.

Cal's bags were all ready in his room and his suit had been hung up in the wardrobe. He wondered if Gillian was going to go downstairs again to meet Agent Devin straight away. He wondered if he should go too, or stay out of her way. She clearly liked the guy. He should just stay out of the way right? Right. So he kicked his shoes off and grabbed the remote and jumped on the bed. At least there was an extensive selection of channels to choose from and he found a football game between Aston Villa and Chelsea. Gold! And now to raid the mini-bar because this was a business expense...

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An hour later Cal was in the middle of watching a rugby game between the New Zealand All Blacks and the English Lions. He never really had a lot of spare time to just laze around and watch sport on TV these days. "Oh come on ref!" He hollered at the TV, while gesticulating wildly. "He's been doin' it all day!"

There was a tap at his door and he almost called for the person to come in until he remembered the door was locked from the inside. He got up, watching the screen as much as he could until he had to answer the door. It was Gillian. She gave him a smile. "I can hear you from the elevators," she told his back as he walked back to the bed. "Good game?" She asked craning her neck to see the screen.

Cal jumped on the bed. "How's Agent Devin?"

"Who's playing?" Gillian asked.

Cal pointed at the screen. "Did you get everythin' sorted?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Did he give you his cell numba?" He turned his head in time to catch her reaction. "That was a 'yes'," Cal answered himself.

"Want to get dinner after this ends?" Gillian sat in the comfy chair in the corner and kicked off her pumps.

"Thought you might all ready have dinna plans," Cal responded lightly.

"Nope, Thursday, before we leave."

Cal glanced over at her. She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. He grinned, amused, pleased for her, even as he felt an intense jealous need to shut her happiness down again. "New Zealand in the black, England in the white." He answered her first question.

"Is England winning?"

"Not even close. We're gettin' our arses handed to us."

Gillian giggled. "This is rugby right?"

"Uh huh." He nodded. "And yes, and yes."

Gillian nodded this time. "How much longer?" She checked her watch.

"Half an hour." Cal leaned back against his massive stack of pillows and reached for his beer. "Help yourself to the mini-bar if you want."

"It's a little early for me, especially on an empty stomach."

Cal smirked at the TV while Daniel Carter punted the wall way down the field and everyone ran after it.

"So what happens now?" Gillian asked.

"They throw it back in."

"Too obvious a question?"

"Little bit."

"Ok," Gillian said lightly and then remained silent.

A few minutes later Cal explained what was happening with the line out and the push for the try line. She asked questions for clarification and Cal answered them patiently because the game was all ready lost and he didn't mind talking through the end of it. And besides, they were bonding and that was a good thing.

"All right," Cal turned the TV off. "Let's go eat." He scooted to the edge of the bed and caught his reflection in the full length mirror opposite the bed. His shirt was rumpled. Gillian stood and smoothed out her shirt too with her hands. Cal just pulled his up over his head; he would re-iron it later. Except he probably should have found a clean shirt to put on first before discarding the old one because now he was standing half naked in his hotel room with his business partner who he had a hard time thinking entirely platonic thoughts about. Gillian cleared her throat delicately as Cal pulled the clean shirt over his arms. He turned to her while doing up the buttons. She was staring, a little amused smile on her lips as she pressed a finger between her lips, her blue eyes dwarfed by the size of her pupils. "Like the view do we?" Cal dared to tease.

Gillian's smile widened and she dropped her hand and stalked past him towards the door. "Don't forget your room key," she suggested.

"Right," Cal reached for it and tucked it into his trousers pocket as he stepped into his shoes again and lifted a foot one at a time to the bed to re-tie the laces. He tucked himself in while they were in the elevator and he could see Gillian watching him again in the reflection of the shiny metal doors. He found it excitingly flattering.

By the time they reached the ground floor he was squared away and Gillian's cheeks were a little pink. They were seated at a table for two to the side of the restaurant and handed menus. Their waiter poured water, suggested a nice bottle of red wine, gave Gillian an appreciative glance that she amazingly, at least to Cal it was amazing, didn't notice. It was always amazing how little she noticed in those around her, unless she was looking specifically. Maybe that wasn't fair, she didn't study everyone like Cal did. But in switching 'it' off she missed out on so much. Like the woman from reception.

Cal scanned down the menu quickly, found the eye fillet and decided. Gillian perused her menu and Cal perused her. She curled a few strands around her ear as her blue eyes searched over the pages. The waiter arrived with their wine and poured some into each of their glasses. They both sipped and approved. The waiter poured. He politely asked if they were ready to order. Cal looked to Gillian. She gave a slight shrug.

"I'll have the Classic Beef Eye Fillet, medium rare," Cal closed his menu and handed it back.

"I'll have the Adventurous Moroccan Chicken," Gillian gave the waiter a smile as she handed hers back.

"Would you like anything to start?"

"Bruschetta," Gillian responded.

"Sir?"

"I'll pass," Cal declined. He wasn't a big eater. He ate, and he enjoyed food, but he didn't enjoy eating so much of it he felt like he might burst open at the seams. He had plenty of seams. The waiter took a step back from the table before turning away. Cal liked that too. Good service.

They sipped their wine and had barely even started to begin conversation when Gillian's entree arrived. On a simple white plate thin layers of crisp bread were stacked with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese, fresh basil and rock salt. Balsamic reduction and olive oil was drizzled over the stack and around the plate. Gillian looked impressed. Cal wished he had ordered one for himself. Gillian picked up one of the pieces of bread and took a bite. Cal wished he was the food. She made food sexy. And Cal just couldn't stop thinking about her in that way.

"Good?" Cal asked, reaching for his wine glass again.

"Mh hmm," Gillian nodded. "Want some?" She offered with her eyes.

"Oh," Cal started to decline but Gillian nudged the plate in his direction. Cal took a small sliver of bread that was around the size of an egg. It was good; fresh and almost summery, which was nice in the midst of winter. Cal forced himself to sip his wine and not gulp it back. The room seemed really warm and Gillian's eyes were far too intense across the table. And then his saviour arrived in the form of a family of four; mum, dad, two little girls. He saw Gillian look across at them and was surprised by her neutrality. He looked again, looked harder, focussed in on her eyes, because they were always so expressive. Nothing. Dead air. No wait, that was the point. They were dead. She was closing herself off to what she was seeing. She was affected by the sight of little blonde curls and pink dollies.

Gillian turned back and caught Cal watching her. She gave him a wan smile and finished the last of her entree. She brushed the crumbs from her fingers delicately and Cal saw how she carefully kept her eyes on her plate. He took another nervous sip of his wine. He really needed to fill the void of silence between them before it drove him insane. He needed her to distract him from herself.

"Have I converted you to rugby then?" He started with a nice neutral topic of conversation.

"I'm not sure I understand the game."

"What's to undastand?" Cal retorted good naturedly. "You try and score points by gettin' the ball ova the line. Just like grid iron."

Gillian gave a bemused smile at his purposeful reference to American Football. She had heard many times that 'football' was actually 'soccer' and 'American football' was actually 'grid iron', and she couldn't try and convince him otherwise. "I do like the little shorts and tight shirts. You can see everything!"

"Not everythin'," Cal grumped. That was so not the point of this conversation.

The waiter appeared and took her plate. Gillian thanked him with another smile. Cal hoped that wasn't flirting.

"You see a lot more in rugby uniforms than grid iron uniforms," Gillian humoured him.

Cal gave a bemused grin. "I was thinkin' maybe you could come ova some time and watch a game with me." Scratch that, it was more like an embarrassed grin.

Gillian's returning smile was genuine though. She reached for her wine glass and eyed him over the rim, the deep burgundy of the liquid making her skin seem paler, her eyes seem bluer. "Sure. But you'll have to explain what's happening for me every two minutes."

A sacrifice Cal was quite willing to make if it meant he got to spend an entire hour and a half in her company. "The world cup is on at the moment."

"Oh cool. Who's winning?"

"The All Blacks."

"That's New Zealand?"

Cal nodded.

"Good on them," Gillian added.

Cal nodded again. But enough talking about sports; she had all ready humoured him long enough. Time to not so subtly change the subject. And how convenient that the kids at the table just over from theirs suddenly burst into song. Gillian's attention was drawn to them and longing flashed over her face for just a second. For Cal, it was like a whole minute of continuous expression to study.

"You ever thought about tryin' for adoption again?" Cal asked gently.

Gillian turned back to face him slowly. She gave a little shake of her head. She had tried when she was with Alec and she had tried when she wasn't and neither time had been a great success. Cal suddenly clicked that they were in Delaware, home to Sophie and he decided to drop the subject. That wasn't fair on her.

"Sorry luv," he offered. "That was crossin' a line."

"It was a little," she told him softly. But she looked pleased for a brief second and Cal felt proud. He had respected the line without her telling him to and she loved it. The waiter arrived with their mains. Cal's eye fillet came with chunky smoked potato fries, Jus, panache of green baby vegetables (peas, beans, broccoli heads, spinach) and béarnaise sauce. He looked over at Gillian's plate. Her chicken was stuffed with cream cheese and corn and marinated in Moroccan spices. It was stacked on top of potato and basil gratin with smoked cherry tomatoes dotted around the plate and a much lighter Jus.

The first thing Cal did was cut his steak open to see if it was cooked how he wanted it. It was and he noted down just one more thing he was impressed with, with the hotel. Or maybe he should start a list of things he was happy about with this entire four day conference, because although he had started out late, he and Gillian were having a very pleasant dinner and they were talking easily, without the usual strained air.

And that was progress.

They went back to small talk during their mains. Cal talked about Emily a little more and Gillian talked about Loker, which Cal tried not to read too much into. And then she made a passing comment about Agent Devin and he just about choked on his last mouthful of wine. He wanted to be happy for her, he really did, but the thought of her showing interest in another man made Cal want to get up from the table and stab them out of existence; like knifing a baddie in a computer game who would then go up in a puff of black smoke and Cal would be the hero again. He wanted to be her hero again. There was a time when he was her hero.

The waiter approached to clear the empty plates and Gillian thanked him very much for the food. "Would you like to see a dessert menu?"

"Oh yeah!" Gillian agreed. Cal gave a slight shake of his head. But he was certainly going to enjoy watching Gillian eat hers. When the waiter came back he waited for her to announce she was having the chocolate death or something. The anticipation started to build in his stomach; he couldn't wait to hear her moan. "You should get something," Gillian told him while the waiter waited for the return of her menu.

Cal turned up his nose. "I don't have a big sweet tooth Gill you know that."

"You make me eat my entree alone and now you're going to make me eat dessert alone?"

Oh shit she was pouting.

The waiter waited.

"I'm full."

"Oh come on!" Gillian teased. "You're supposed to be able to eat twice what I can."

Cal's nostrils flared at the challenge.

"They have those caramelised apples you always like."

Cal resisted.

The waiter waited.

"Are you sure?" Gillian asked him again. "Sure you don't want to order? Why don't you just order? As soon as he walks away you'll want to order."

"All right fine!" Cal caved. "I'll have the tarte tatin."

"Yes sir," the waiter responded and took Gillian's desert menu and walked away.

"Happy now?" Cal asked.

"Yes," Gillian gave him a smug smile. "Very." She leaned forward on the table and Cal almost, almost, thought that she was flirting. "I know you Cal. As soon as you see my dessert you'll regret not getting one of your own. You always do it."

"Yeah," Cal sighed and sat back in his chair, fingering the hem of the napkin in his lap. He did always do that and she did know him. The family at the table next to them started to leave and as the youngest girl rounded the table she saw Gillian watching and gave her a small wave. She looked to be about five or six. Gillian waved back and gave a sad little smile. Perfect opportunity to bring kids up again, Cal thought to himself. If they were sitting together under different circumstances. If he wasn't kind of in the dog box. And hadn't been there for the last six months...

Their desserts arrived promptly. Gillian's was a light chocolate sponge with chocolate ice cream, dark chocolate sorbet, a chocolate sauce so dark it almost looked black, and long curved lengths of chocolate tuilles. Cal's stomach curled up at the edges just looking at it. Gillian's face however was pure excitement. Cal waited for the moan of delight. He picked up his spoon slowly to start on his dessert and waited. Gillian was eager to try hers though so she dug into the warm sponge first. She closed her eyes. "Mmmmm."

Cal just about wet his pants. He had been expecting it, but he hadn't been anticipating it properly. He cleared his throat and turned his eyes down to his plate. His tarte tatin had been made individually, the apples fanned out in a perfect circle and coloured perfectly. He inhaled, he hoped subtly, and drew in the strong scent of caramelised apples and cinnamon. There were two reasons he always ordered this dessert if it was on the menu. Firstly, it was just sweet enough for his liking and just light enough for him to be able to handle after eating his main meal. Secondly, sometimes Gillian smelt like apple and cinnamon. And he just couldn't help himself.

"How's yours?" Gillian asked.

"Yeah good," Cal responded.

"You haven't even tried it," she teased.

"Yeah well, I appreciate the chef made it individually instead of in a large pan."

"Hhhmm," Gillian agreed thoughtfully. "Can I try some?"

"Sure," Cal agreed. He expected her to reach out with her spoon but instead she leaned forward in anticipation and he quickly deduced she expected him to break apart a portion for her to try. He could have nudged the plate in her direction, telling her that no, he wasn't going to flirt in this way, but who was he kidding? He loved it. He loved how her eyes closed as she sucked the apples and pastry off his spoon and he loved that when he put his spoon in his mouth they had shared a little connection.

"Mmmm, it is good," Gillian complimented. "Want to try some of mine?"

"Sure," Cal agreed only so she would also spoon feed him over the table. And she didn't hesitate to gather a spoonful of cake and sorbet and ice-cream and lean across the table again. He hated the way she looked at him though; so open and fun and loving and it made him feel like a bigger bastard for stepping over the polite line of friendship several months ago. Suddenly the flirting was too much and he felt uncomfortable and he kept his eyes on his plate until he had finished.

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Gillian finished her dessert in silence. She periodically checked on Cal but he refused to meet her eye. These sudden silences and mood shifts made her wish for a way to see into his head. Just as she thought she had him figured out something flashed through his mind that made him almost change completely. They went back to small talk as they walked through the restaurant and to the elevator and back to the rooms. On impulse she kissed his cheek as she said goodnight, hoping to recapture some of their closeness. She wanted to invite him in for a nightcap or something or watch a movie with her but it was late and it was so much harder to cross that bridge when he wouldn't meet her halfway.

She'd barely had a chance to appreciate her room this afternoon because she had rushed to meet Agent Devin. But as she changed and removed her makeup and brushed her hair, getting ready for bed, it was Cal that she thought about. As she turned the air conditioning up a little so it wasn't so cool in the room and climbed into the king sized bed, she thought about Cal. She slept in the middle of the mattress, thinking the bed was entirely the perfect size for sex. And she thought about Cal. Not Agent Devin.

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Cal waited for her to unlock her door, as if something bad was going to happen to her in the fifteen seconds it would take for her to get inside. Before she disappeared into her room she turned back and kissed his cheek and gave his shoulder a little rub. "Good night Cal."

"Yeah," he agreed finding other words wouldn't form in his throat. That had just felt like the end of a date. And it shouldn't. Or maybe he should let it. They had been flirty a year ago, he remembered, and then she had got a boyfriend and all of that had stopped. It was a slap in the face, a reminder that he wasn't good enough for her, that she chose other men, Burns in particular, over him.

Cal went to his own room and slipped into the coolness. He stripped off to his underwear and brushed his teeth and dumped the massive stack of pillows onto the chair in the corner and peeled back the covers. He turned off the air conditioning because he knew from experience that it clicking on and off during the night would keep him awake and he would rather get a good night's sleep before he woke up too hot.

As Cal started to drift to sleep he suddenly realised he had been thinking of Gillian the exact moment she had rung him that morning. Weird coincidence? Or the sign of a deeper connection? He wasn't even sure he believed in all of that weird x-filey type stuff. But it still made him smile a little, feel a little lighter. He liked that they did things like that. It was special. He never did those things with anyone else. To him, it meant something. It meant something special.

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AN: Muse and I had a conversation one night (not THAT muse, my muse) about what Muse would like to see written about on . Something not done before. Muse gave me a theme, a one sentence prompt, and then let my imagination run wild. This is a collaboration piece because although I have written it, Muse ok-ed plot ideas, twists, characters, named the characters and yes or no-ed initial drafts. Muse pushed me to write better paragraphs and explore the ideas fully when I was half asleep at 3am and rushing to end the chapter, for the sake of ending the chapter. So credit where credit's due Muse. Also, Muse wanted me to tell you that this story has quite the twist and Muse would like for you to take guesses as to what will happen next. So go wild!

It's good to be back. Missed you guys!

PJ