Title: I Carry Your Heart

Character/pairing: N/A

Rating: PG/T

Spoilers: Season 1, Ep 7 The Best Policy

Summary: A sleep deprived Cal realizes that his infant daughter Emily can not lie.

Author's Note: I do not own "Lie to Me" or its characters, the show belongs to Fox and I make no money off of these stories. "i carry your heart", written by ee cummings is not my copyright and I do not own it. I appreciate critique, please feel free to read and review. Enjoy!

xxxxx

It wasn't that Cal hadn't understood before Emily was born that sleep would become a precious commodity, it was just one of those things that hadn't sunk in until after. Mentally he knew that he wouldn't be getting much sleep - like University, he figured. He was not a University lad anymore though, and when little Emily had come home from the hospital Cal and Zoë both began their crash course in tag team parenting – alternating turns taking care of Emily or sleeping. The first twenty four hours or so had been easy, the adrenaline rush of having brought their new daughter home, family and friends calling or stopping by, gifts, a fridge full of various casseroles and pies. When that had tapered off, they were left with a squalling child and no real idea as to how to take care of her. The organized ideas and plans they'd had before Emily's birth were tossed promptly to the wind and they began a system of trial and error.

It was the sleep that he was going to miss most of all, he realized. Sitting in that rocking chair late that night (or early that morning as there was no clock in Emily's room,) he decided he would probably never sleep soundly again. Not that he was the heaviest of sleepers on a good night but he had a little life to protect now, he had a family, and something had to be sacrificed. Sleep was going to have to be the unwilling victim into the proverbial volcano.

Cal shifted slightly in the chair and Emily opened her eyes. "Shhhhh! Don't cry! Don't cry! Don't wake Mummy up," Cal whispered anxiously to the infant in his arms. Emily gave a little yawn, squirmed a bit, and closed her eyes again falling right back to sleep.

"Aww, look at you, already listening to your Dad. Good girl," he quipped.

Cal had joked that when the baby came along he was going to start a new project – studying and understanding the facial expressions in infants. He had used this as an anecdote for the most part, but now that Emily was here and lying in his arms he began to think about his work and how it might relate to infants-

Emily couldn't lie.

It should have been something obvious, something he'd thought of at some point in the months leading up to Emily's birth, but Cal hadn't. Infants couldn't lie. Their method of communication was crying. They hadn't learned how to recognize facial expressions and for the first little while she wouldn't even recognize her parent's faces. She would learn to mimic facial expressions in time but at that moment, she didn't have any of those skills. Emily couldn't lie.

Cal sat there, shocked. Shocked he hadn't thought of it before, and shocked that it was true.

Emily was suddenly made even more perfect to him because of this. A key factor that was such a dominating force in Cal's life, he would have at least a couple of years not having to worry about with Emily. Cal and Zoë would know what she wanted and when, exactly what she was doing, and not have to worry about whether she was actually staying over at a friends house, or drinking, or smoking, or having babies of her own…

Christ, she's a few days old! Can we worry about her having sex when she's older perhaps? Get a grip, man!

It was truly amazing to Cal when he really thought about this for the first time. Not only was tiny Emily a part of him, a new life he'd helped bring into the world, but she was also a new discovery for him. He'd spent much of his adult life studying facial expressions in children and adults all over the world, which turned into a career utilizing that knowledge to detect deception in others, but infants couldn't deceive. They didn't know how. This knowledge had an almost calming effect on him.

She does have the power to lie there, though…well, lay there, his sleep-deprived mind mocked him, and he smirked.

Lying was a trait that one learned – it was not inherent to being a human being. Lying as a response to fear of punishment, something Emily would learn once she started walking, talking, and breaking rules to test her boundaries. Considering exactly who her parents were Emily would probably become quite proficient in knowing exactly how to lie to others, but sadly not to her father.

Sadly? Why should she be allowed to lie to me? I'm her father, she shouldn't lie to me, Cal thought.

What better way to learn how to lie than to live with a father who was not only proficient in detecting lying behaviour in others, but was a proficient liar himself? Was that wrong of them, he wondered. Wrong to bring a child into the world knowing that lying, something that was considered a basic human function, would be quashed in his daughter because of who he was?

Was this fair to Emily?

This thought scared Cal - the last thing he wanted to do was limit Emily in any way, but would he be limiting her because she would never be able to get away with lying to him?

He looked down at Emily and watched her breathe for a moment. Cal decided that when the time came, he would be ready. He would explain what lying was to her and why she shouldn't do it. Emily would always be able to come to her parents and tell them what she needed to, he thought optimistically. When she invariably did start to lie, well, he would jump off that cliff when he came to it. In the meantime he would appreciate watching his daughter grow up. He slowly trailed his index finger over her cheek and marveling over how soft her skin was. All thoughts of Emily lying when she grew up were pushed to the back of his brain where they belonged.

Zoë had woken up in bed alone, and she got up to walk down the hall into the room they were using as a nursery to see if Cal was in there. He was adamant about her getting as much sleep as possible, which was a great help to her. Her steps were slow and somewhat unsteady, the physical reminders of giving birth just a few days before paining her with every step. She used the hallway wall for extra balance and support as she walked. She reached the doorway of the nursery and sleepily smiled at the sight of tiny Emily cradled in the crook of Cal's arm. He looked up at her, concerned. "You should still be sleeping," he whispered as loud as he dared, starting to stand up.

"No," Zoë whispered back, putting her hand out to stop him from moving. "I just wanted to see where you were. Besides," she said, leaning up against the doorframe, "this is the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

Cal looked down at Emily, who flailed a tiny fist in her sleep and slightly turned in his arms. He cupped his hand over the top of her head for a moment, then looked back up at Zoë.

"I'm a father."

xxxxx

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings