A/N: If you're a frequent reader of my stories, you'll have realized by now that I can't resist the fluff. In fact, it's just about all I write. Fluff overload. In accordance with that, here's a little bit of sappiness to counteract the current lack of it on the actual show. Enjoy!

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It was a small, leather-bound book, just lying there on her desk. How was he to know what it contained? He could hardly be blamed for his curiosity. But upon opening it and seeing page upon page scrawled with her handwriting, he began to piece together what he was looking at.

He almost decided against reading it. It's not right, he thought, but only for a moment. Well, maybe just a page or two, then… The first entry was from a few months back, just after her so-called boyfriend (Cal had never deemed Burns good enough for her) was forced to take off.

Dear Diary,

Is it strange that I'm keeping a diary at my age? Maybe it's best to just refer to you as a journal. That sounds slightly more grown up, anyway. Whatever you're called, though, your purpose remains the same. There are just too many thoughts in my head these days, and I need to get them out. This seems to be the healthiest way.

So, where to start? My boyfriend, Dave, has left town. I don't know where he's gone, and I'll probably never see him again. Scratch the 'probably'. I loved him, I really did. It's just…my feelings for someone else are getting all stirred up again, and I hate it when that happens, mostly because he's the one man I should never be having feelings for. I'm the one who drew the damn line.

He told Dave he wanted me "in the worst possible way". Okay, yes, it was part of an act, or it was supposed to be…but I can't help myself from wondering how much he actually meant it, if he did at all.

Cal's eyes widened at the words on the page. Thinking back to that day, he'd meant it all. Of course he had. How could he not want her? The way she walked around, wearing those adorable outfits that hugged every curve, her hair falling just so, the adorable way she laughed, her peculiar eating habits…he wanted everything about her. But…the line. He'd always assumed she didn't want to cross it. Anything she wants to tell me, she will… It seemed, however, that she'd been concealing some very critical bits of information from him. He couldn't just stop reading now, and so it continued,

I wanted him to mean it. There I was, in the presence of my thoroughly beaten and bruised boyfriend, and I wanted another man to want me! What kind of woman thinks that way? I know. One who's in love with the wrong man.

Cal's eyes practically bugged out of his skull. Did she write…in love? He flipped a few pages, now completely engrossed, and read further in, the entry written the day they'd masqueraded as a married couple (which had been surprisingly easy and enjoyable to do, if he were completely honest).

We kissed today.

Well, we…pretended to kiss. I mean, it was a real kiss, but not a REAL kiss. We were pretending to be married to get information for a case. But still…thatkiss. I felt lightheaded afterwards. It's a good thing I was able to pull my focus back to the case, but it wasn't easy. It felt every bit as wonderful as I ever hoped it would feel, and it was only a pretend kiss.

I know it wasn't real for him, it was just business, but it was real for me. At least, as real as a fake kiss can be. I wish I had the courage to give him a real kiss. It's too frightening a prospect. I honestly don't know whether I could handle rejection, not from him, and besides that…there is the line.

It's not healthy to want him this way. I know it's not, and I know living in some fantasy where our pretend kisses actually mean something isn't healthy. I know there's not more to his feelings for me because he would tell me. Wouldn't he? He's had every opportunity, and he must know, or at least suspect, how I feel. I know I shouldn't put it all on him, that isn't fair. But…he would have done something, by now. I think.

Cal's mind was reeling. That kiss. That kiss had been everything to him that it had to her and then some. How could she doubt that? Probably because he'd never bothered to mention it. Why hadn't he mentioned it? Bloody hell. He made a mental note to do just that, and continued reading, turning a few more pages until he found the date he was searching for: the day he'd been so horrible to her. The day he'd said words he could never have meant.

It's official: there is no possible way that Cal feels anything more for me than friendship…and even that's a stretch. The way he spoke to me today, the things he said…I never thought he could make me feel like this. Like I mean nothing to him. Maybe he was just overreacting in his usual way, but…those words, his tone…it hurt, on every level imaginable. I always thought I was his partner, his equal. After tonight, I'm not so sure he sees things that way.

And, well…there's this woman. A cop. He left with her just a little while ago. It's time to give up. It wasn't meant to be, I see that now.

Cal felt his heart breaking as he read her words. He couldn't believe he'd caused such a reaction in her, and he hadn't even meant the things he'd said, not really. He could never be through with her. She healed his pain, and he never wanted to be the cause of any of hers. He hated that he'd done that, and he made up his mind right then that he had to fix it. She couldn't go on thinking she meant nothing to him when she was more than everything.

He threw the diary back down on the desk and ran. Nearly colliding with Loker, he grabbed the other man by the shoulder, "Oi! Have you seen Fostah?"

"She was in the lab last time I saw her," he said, shrugging apologetically and walking off. Cal strode purposefully to the lab and flung the door open. "Gillian?" he called out, but Ria was the room's only occupant.

"She's in the bathroom," she said, not looking away from the screen she was busy studying. Off he went.

"Gill?" he asked, stepping inside the ladies' room, a woman who was definitely not his Gillian giving him a disgusted look. "Wot? I happen to be lookin' fah someone. Scurry along, then," he said, shooing her off and then locking the restroom door. "Oi! You in here, love?"

Gillian stepped out of a stall and walked over to the sink, "You couldn't have waited 30 seconds?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she washed her hands.

"Not at all, love, sorry," he said, pulling her to him, wet hands and all, "There's somethin' I've been meanin' ta tell ya," he said, leaning in, "That kiss was real…and so's this one," he said softly before capturing her lips with his, trying to convey all the passion he felt for her into that one kiss. When he finally pulled away, both were breathless.

"I…you…" her brow furrowed as she pieced together what he'd said, "You read my journal!" she said accusingly, simultaneously relieved, confused, afraid, angry, and happy. Only he could provoke such a diverse mix of emotions from her all at once.

"Guilty as charged, love, and I'm glad I did," he told her, "I don't want you to give up on me, Gill, because then where would I be? Just a sorry old sod in love with the best woman he knows he doesn't deserve…"

Gillian's eyes widened; usually, he had trouble reading her, but the surprise easily read throughout her face now. "Did you just say…"

"I did, and I meant it. I love you, Gillian." There it was; the confession he'd wanted to give her for years, finally out in the open. The line had been obliterated now, but neither of them seemed a bit concerned.

"Cal, I," she began, tears welling in her eyes, "I love you, too," she finally admitted, and with her confession came another kiss, even more passionate than the last, neither one coming up for air until a loud knock jolted them back to reality.

"Would you let us in, please?"

Only then did they remember that they'd locked themselves into the floor's only ladies' room. They burst out laughing simultaneously, and Cal opened the door. They emerged together, holding hands, triumphant grins on both their faces. It was only the start, and there was a long, rough road ahead. Navigating this new relationship wouldn't be easy, but they both knew that no one else would ever be worth the risk.

Fin.