Me: Alright, I'm still working on my other fic, 'Just an Ordinary Day?', but this story just popped into my head randomly and I had to write it down.

Cal: Keep in mind it's pretty late here and she may or may not be "all there" so if this story is, well, suckish, she's sorry.

Me: Thank you for putting that so kindly. *sarcasm*

Cal: Hey, I saw that!

Me: Funny you mention that, because you see something else quite interesting in this story.

Cal: I think I know what it is *grins*

Me: *rolls eyes*

Cal: Anyways, my little friend here would like to say she does not own Lie to Me, its characters, or anything else you see in here except for the idea. Oh, and review. Do it for me ;)

Me: Enjoy! :)

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When you work, you learn you have responsibilities. When you're a woman, you learn to trust only half the men you see. When you're a woman, who's best friend is a guy, you can't help but wonder "what if". When you work for a firm that specializes in pointing out lies wherever you see them, you hope you see everything on a case, but you hope to be blind when it comes to personal affairs. When your best friend also specializes in this field, you both mutually agree that there needs to be a "line" when it comes to each others' personal lives. When your best friend is Cal Lightman, you try your best to respect the line and defend it. But when you're Gillian Foster, you're recently separated and you find yourself accepting your best friend's offer to stay at his house for some time... expect from the moment you step into that doorway with your bags that the line shall be crossed. Expect what you should be expecting, but deny to accept. It's only a matter of time.

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"Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?" Cal asks her, taking her bags into the living room.

"I'm usually the one who tells you that, remember?" she says, taking in the familiar room and taking notice of the furniture that had moved positions since her last visit. He sets down her bags next to the stairs and leans on the wall facing her, carefree smile on his face.

"Welcome home." he says warmly, his subtle smile growing as he sees one appear on her face. Who said smiling wasn't contagious?

"I guess I'm going to have to get used to that." she says, admiring the wall decoration that was the basic definition of Cal Lightman. He stares at her for what seemed an eternity, but what is in reality only five seconds. Five seconds of his life staring at Gillian Foster are five seconds that were not wasted. He smiled at this thought then quickly made his facial expression neutral.

"Right, well, I'll take these upstairs." He takes her two bags by the handle and lifts them simultaneously.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" she asks as he starts heading up the stairs.

"No, but it wouldn't hurt to ask you why the hell women's bags are always so damn heavy?!" he asks, lifting up both bags once more and stepping up a few more steps before setting them down on the stairs once more.

"It's just a girl thing, I guess." she says, not being able to help the small chuckle that escapes her lips. He smiles and lifts the bags for the final time before making it to the top of the stairs and from there rolling them to her room.

"You know, you never did tell me where I would be sleeping." she smiles jokingly, observing the upstairs hallway, which was also decorated with strange, but nonetheless beautiful, figurines.

"About that luv...", he turns around to face her and she now understands what he means. She loved and hated this ability they had to share without speaking, "I didn't really have much time to plan this whole thing. My first instinct was to give you a place to call home."

"It's alright Cal, I understand. But really, I can sleep on the couch."

"My bed's big enough for both of us, and I promise I won't bite." this caused them both to chuckle. They always seemed to be so at ease with each other.

"Alright, you win. But I have to go take a shower, it's late and I'm tired and I really need to relax." she smiled.

"I'll take your things into my room." he said as he opened his bedroom door and pulled the bags in with him. Pointing at a door near the bed, he says, "Bathroom's right there. I'll be downstairs if you need me.", and leaves with a small smile, closing the door behind him. Gillian lets out a deep breath. She opens the bags containing her pijamas and main articles of clothing. If one had seen her facial expression when she looked down at her open bag, one wouldn't need special deception training to know the expression on her face was one of surprise, fear and shame. She mentally slapped herself.

'My God, Gillian Foster, this is not going to go down as smoothly as you planned now is it?!' she yelled at herself. Resentfully, she took what she needed into the bathroom, and ran the hot water, hoping the shower could at least calm her down for a bit. She was going to need a hell lot of calming.

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Cal was downstairs, as promised, watching television. He never quite understood American shows, but who was he to judge them? After all, he found Dr. House and his medical team to be quite interesting, even though he didn't completely agree with his attitude, he found it amusing. Plus the medical cases proved to be interesting as well. He suddenly remembered about Gillian. How long had she been up there? Thirty- maybe forty-five- minutes? He would never understand women and their need to take so long in the shower. Maybe that's why they were so soft all the time. Gillian was soft. He smiled remembering when he had touched her arm earlier that day. He had given her one of his house keys before leaving to go see Torres. He always had an extra just in case. She had called him right when he was walking out of the hospital to tell him she'd be in his house in 15 minutes. He sighed contently and turned his attention back at the television. He was happy she was staying here with him.

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After finishing her shower and brushing her teeth, Gillian stepped out of the bathroom and once more opened her suitcase, looking for something that she found was not there. She cursed herself mentally and opened the door to the bedroom. She walked out into the upstairs hallway and took in a deep breath at the edge of the staircase.

'Here goes nothing.'

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Cal heard a noise coming from upstairs and deduced it must be Gillian who was finally coming downstairs. He was about to stand up, when he heard her voice.

"Cal, do not turn around." he heard.

"Is everything alright, luv?"

"Yes, well no, well maybe, I just need to ask you a question, but don't turn around." he listened to her and did not turn around.

"What is it then?"

"Do you have an extra pair of pijama pants or sweat pants or anything like that?" this question he did not expect.

"I wear briefs when I go to bed and all my sweat pants are in the dirty laundry. That usually happens when Emily isn't around. Piled up dirty laundry.", he let out a chuckle, "Why do you ask?"

"Ok Cal, it seems I forgot to pack a few things when I came here."

"Did you forget your pijamas, is that it?" he asked before she finished.

"Oh, I brought pijamas alright, just not the right ones. Not for spending my nights here anyways." she told him. He was still facing away from her.

"What do you mean?" he asked, bemused.

"I accidently packed lingerie only, Cal." Cal could swear he felt the blood in his body boil. He tried to keep his composure.

"You didn't bring any sweat pants or anything?" he asked her, already knowing the answer.

"No, I didn't. Thankfully, I don't own any lingerie that reveals too much, but I just wanted to make sure with you that it's ok. I'm sorry." Cal took a second to respond, trying to process the thought of Gillian Foster in lingerie.

"No problem, luv. I'm not kicking you out for wearing lingerie. I should be apologizing to you, I'm the one who sleeps in briefs.", he chuckled, causing her to smile, "So can I turn around now or do I have to wait another hour watching 'House'?" he joked.

"Yea, it's fine. We should get to bed though, it's pretty late and you never sleep." she smiled. Cal stood up from the couch and turned to face her. Now Cal Lightman was not usually taken by surprise. These were not usual circumstances. Cal was now trying his best to conceal his facial expressions as best as he could muster, although he couldn't find himself able to move. Gillian was wearing light-pink, slightly orange, lingerie shorter than any mini-skirt he had ever seen. It wasn't very transparent, but he could slightly see her underwear under the dim light. He tried to tread away from those thoughts and began taking a few steps forward. Gillian was already on the steps so she had not seen most of his reaction.

"You coming?" she looked down behind her.

"Hm? Oh! Yea, I'm coming, I was just putting down the remote." he was lying, but she wasn't there to see it. No harm then, right? She was already in bed and under the covers when he opened the door. She was on the left side of the bed. He smiled to himself at how perfect it was that they slept on opposite sides of the bed.

"I'll go change in the bathroom. Be just a second." he told her, as he grabbed personal items out of his closet and walked into the bathroom. He changed and brushed his teeth, and as promised, was out of the bathroom before she knew it. Although he turned off the lights before getting to bed, Gillian had caught a glimpse of him. He was wearing black briefs and a tight dark blue shirt. Simple as it was, it made Gillian feel like her body had just been set on fire. She felt Cal get into bed and under the covers next to her. She tried to think about anything other than what he was wearing. Cal tried to think about anything other than the fact Gillian Foster was less than a foot away from him wearing lingerie; very provocative, sexy, bloody damn hot lingerie.

"Night Cal." she said, letting her thoughts take over her mind as she closed her eyes.

"Night... Gillian." he had to think before saying her name. He would have to get used to not calling her 'Foster'. Somewhere between thinking about Gillian's name and the lingerie she was wearing, Cal fell into a deep and very welcomed sleep.

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