AN: Number Two in the Doctor Callian writing challenges. This was meant to be a standalone fic, but after getting half way through Requiem And Sorrow I realised I had actually started writing both these fics with the same theme. So now this has become part 2.

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"So how you doin'?" Cal asked looking over at his business partner while he drove. He gave her a quick glance over before turning his eyes back to the snow covered road.

"Fine," she turned to look out of the passenger window.

'Right,' Cal thought. 'Clearly not fine at all.'

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No," she tightened her seatbelt, caved in on herself a little.

Cal tapped a finger against the steering wheel. Well if she didn't want to talk about it willingly, he could just needle it out of her. "You know, if you're not ready to handle cases, if you need to take a few days off."

"Cal," her tone was loaded with warning, but she still refused to look at him.

"You know it's not my fault the airport's closed."

"I know that," her tone was higher pitched, but certainly still as stressed.

"Why are you grumpy?" Cal wheedled.

"I'm not grumpy ok? I just haven't been sleeping well and I'm tired."

"So why are you takin' it out on me?"

"You're handy," Gillian responded glumly.

Cal focused on the road again. Huge snow drifts had been ploughed to line the road and where cars had splashed by the snow was black and slushy. They were supposed to be flying home to D.C but the local airport was closed and so they had decided to stay one more night in the hotel, and try again in the morning. It was that, or attempt to drive back now. The case was closed and there was no one to rush home to for either of them. Cal had all ready organised for Emily to stay at her mother's apartment. And well, Gillian wasn't with anyone now so...

Snow was falling right at this moment, a light blanket against a grey sky all ready turning dim even though it was barely late afternoon. Cal liked the snow. It reminded him of Christmas's at home in England. And normally, Gillian liked the snow too. She said it made the world silent and magical. But right now, it was really pissing her off because the last thing she wanted was to be trapped with Cal in the middle of a snowstorm with no way to escape.

Back at the hotel Gillian approached the desk to check in for another night. She explained that they had just checked out and tried to leave but were trapped by the snow. Cal stepped up beside her as the hotel clerk typed away with manicured fingernails on the computer keyboard. He stomped the cold out of his feet and dumped his bag next to hers with a loud bang. Gillian shot him an annoyed glare out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm very sorry but the only room we have available is a single."

Gillian could see Cal look at her out of the corner of her eye. She had a hard time looking at him directly since Burns had left and he'd started behaving so... And it was worse since her melt down about Sophie. It wasn't logical to blame Cal. It wasn't his fault. But if he'd just left it alone... actually, if he'd just left it alone then she wouldn't have had any idea of how to find Burns... but that wasn't the point. Cal just had to pry into everything of her life. Just like he had to show up when Ursula had brought Sophie by.

"We'll take it," Cal answered.

"Excellent," the hotel clerk answered and tapped away again. "One night?"

"At this stage yeah," Cal responded while Gillian thought if the airport wasn't open tomorrow then they would just drive back anyway. She was going to have to suffer through at least twelve hours in the same room with him; she could tolerate a three hour car ride so she could get back to her own bed and peace and quiet. So she could cry in private.

Cal took the key and carried her bag upstairs with his and she supposed that anyone would think they were just another couple checking in to the hotel. In some ways, they were a couple. They didn't say anything in the elevator and even less as they walked down the hallway to their room. Cal offered her the key card and their fingers fumbled as she took it from him.

The room was small but nice. "Wanna call dibs on a side of the bed?" Cal offered.

"I'll take the right," Gillian muttered.

"Perfect." Cos he slept on the left at home. Just one more way they were compatible. But somehow voicing that at this moment didn't seem like such a good idea. He could see she was seething and her mood seemed to be getting worse by the bloody second. "Wanna get somethin' to eat?"

"Not hungry," Gillian responded shortly lifting her bag to a bench top and started unzipping it.

"What is goin' on with you!" Cal finally blurted.

Gillian stopped moving. "Nothing," she said quietly.

"Could have fooled me," Cal insisted. "Cos I know I piss you off sometimes but I'm pretty sure I've been behaved in the last two hours." Not to mention the entire last week. Extra special well behaved.

She turned around slowly. She gave an exaggerated sigh. "I know. It's not you. It's this," she waved a hand towards the window.

"So why are you angry with me?" Cal asked gently.

"Because I trust you." She sighed again and gave him a slight, but entirely unconvincing smile. "I just would like to go home and have a bath."

Cal went to the bathroom and pushed open the door. "There's a bath here luv."

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"How was your bath?" Cal queried from the bed, his hands were tucked behind his head and his full length stretched out in the middle of the bed. She looked good with wet hair.

"Good thank you," Gillian responded.

Cal watched her walk across the room. She plugged in a hair dryer and killed any more chances at decent conversation. Cal watched as she used a hair brush to dry her hair straight again. Occasionally she caught him watching her in the reflection of the mirror and gave him a slight smile. Cal grinned back and waggled his fingers. After she shut off the hair dryer she applied a light layer of makeup, her hands working quickly in a practiced routine. Cal had never seen this aspect of her. This kind of domesticity. And he liked it a lot. He was surprised by how much he liked it.

"Enjoying the show?" Gillian asked now it was quiet.

"I am actually."

She gave a slight smile then ignored him to apply eye liner.

"Why are you puttin' on make up? Afraid I won't like what I see?"

"No," she scoffed. "If we're going to dinner I would prefer to wear a little make up."

"Oh we're goin' for dinna are we?"

She gave a slight smile and her blue eyes flickered over to his reflection. "Will you have dinner with me?"

"Love to luv."

Gillian's smiled tugged at the corner of her mouth. Cal grinned back. Then he wondered if he should get changed. Maybe put on a clean shirt. He remembered the last time he had done that, stripping off right in front of her as if nothing was out of the ordinary. In fact, that scenario was very similar to the one they had going now. On a road trip, staying in a hotel, going down for dinner. Cal's stomach quivered in anticipation and nerves. All he had to do now was recreate a really nice evening meal in which he was funny and attentive and make her smile and be flirty again and well... maybe then he'd...

"Ready to go?"

"Sure," Cal sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. He slipped into his shoes again.

"You need to get changed?" Gillian asked him with a smirk.

Cal dropped one of the laces in his hand. She was doing it again! Reading his mind! He fumbled again as he reached for the length of cord. He hoped Gillian wasn't watching him. Because he looked a bit like an idiot right now.

They went down to the restaurant. Cal would have thought the bath would have soothed Gillian's nerves but they didn't seem to be placated at all. She sighed impatiently while they waited for the elevators and she hummed her annoyance when a couple tried to get on while they were trying to get off. Normally she would smile and brush that kind of thing away and this time Cal found himself doing it. He was marvelling at how their roles had reversed as they passed through the bar. And then he was a little disturbed as to why and he missed the guy at the bar who turned his head to watch Gillian go by.

Before they could even get to a table Cal's phone started ringing. "Oop sorry luv," Cal apologised as he pulled it out. "It's Em," he added as he checked the number.

"Sure," Gillian responded.

"Wait for me luv. I won't be long."

Gillian perched herself on a bar stool and gave him an impatient kind of smile. Cal answered the call as he walked away again, feeling his chances of making her smile this evening slipping away again. He regretted walking away from her but they both knew Emily was a priority he couldn't and shouldn't ignore.

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Gillian played with a coaster while she waited. Then the barman approached and asked if she'd like a drink. Yes, she would quite like a drink. "What's your speciality?"

"Screaming orgasm," the dark haired bartender responded without missing a beat.

A slow smile crawled over Gillian's face. "Sounds really good."

The bartender moved away and collected a glass. "On your back?"

"Why not," Gillian responded with a half shrug. He gave her a self assured grin as he started to pour out measures of Bailey's, Amaretto, Cream and Kahlua. His shirt was tight enough to see the definition of his chest and muscles. He caught her watching and smiled again. Gillian felt a heat rising in her cheeks. Flirting with a bar tender. She felt like she was twenty one again. She was probably at least ten years older than the guy. He presented her drink to her and she gave her thanks warmly. He waited while she tried it. "It's good."

"It should be," he responded and walked away to serve another customer.

Gillian started to feel warm and put it down to the alcohol content. She sipped her drink and waited for Cal to come back. Even sipping the drink it was gone far too soon.

"Can I buy you another?"

Gillian turned to find the man sitting down the end of the bar had approached. He was also dark haired and gave her a friendly smile, the kind of smile that said 'you can trust me, I'm not a bad guy'. Still wondering where the hell Cal was, and quite honestly, annoyed that he had stood her up, she accepted. She liked it a lot better when it was Cal flirting with her. "This time, I think a mojito."

The man signalled the bar tender and he approached. "Two mojitos."

"I'm Gillian."

"Peter," he offered his hand and she shook. His hand was smooth and warm.

"Tell me Peter, what do you do?"

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