Disclaimers: Don't own anything. That's all.

A/N: Yeah, I know that I haven't updated on any of my stories. But I'm working on it. I hope you enjoy my first story for the television show Lie to Me. Now, I've taken some liberties with Cal's office. I'm making it seem bigger than it actually is, and I'll mention some other liberties pertaining to this show some other time.

Summary: Lightman remained detached as best as he could, but for some reason she was breaking down the walls that he so carefully put up to his utmost confusion.

Cal Lightman nodded and ignored different people who worked for him as he headed toward his office. He was prepared for another day of catching the lies and finding the problems of what was required of him and his team.

Upon arriving a few steps away from his office, he noticed that someone was already in it, and believed that this person was in fact a potential client. He was about to move to greet the visitor, but decided against it when his eyes caught the would be customer, whom appeared to be a woman with long dark wavy hair, had rubbed her upper arm up and down with the fingertips of her right hand.

The woman's nervousness and distress was clearly evident to his sharp eyes. He wasn't made out by this person for the woman's eyes were on the pictures of his microexpressions. Lightman moved closer to stand in the doorway as silently as he could. The hair blocked her face, but he didn't need to see a face to get information. By the way the woman shifted her weight with her feet, swaying a centimeter or so to her left and right, and the almost stiff shape of her shoulders with the act of her holding herself, he could identify the signs very easily.

Witnessing enough, Lightman walked through with normal steps, and found to his interest the women not acknowledging his presence even when he chose not to conceal it. He paid close attention to the way she observed the wall of his microexpressions. Her head was bent a little forward, but also tilted slightly to the right. By her height, and lithe structure it looked like she was lost in her thoughts.

Standing directly a foot or less behind her, Lightman cleared his throat, and asked her how he could be of service. The woman showed surprise when her shoulders "jumped," and by the way she even flinched a little. The lady, a little slowly, turned to face him to reveal a remarkably striking face that for some reason imprinted itself in his mind.

She had a soft looking face that was angular at best, but still carried some roundness. Her nose was a little flat, eyes spread apart in an Asian way, a faded birthmark on her left cheek, and full lips. The hair, which he already knew to be way and mid-waist length, was apparently layered, and black with a more prominent red highlights upper layer. And her hazel eyes complimented the tone of her skin which was nicely toned between white and tan.

"Oh, um…" she trailed off and then looked down for a second. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and continued with a little more courage than before. "I was told that this is Dr. Lightman's office…" She nodded over at the micro expressions. "That'll be you right?"

Lightman nodded; assessing the woman's voice. The voice she had was a little like velvet; the texture reminded him of Europe, but her accent seemed so mixed that it turned and sounded like velvet. He imagined that this person in front of him traveled. He also surmised that she was probably based in the west coast rather than the east.

He walked to his desk, and beckoned her to sit down with a slight movement of his hand.

"How may I help you?" he asked politely; eyes ever watchful and every analyzing.

Taking a seat in front of him, the woman placed her purse on her lap and wrapped her arms about it. Her eyes wandered a bit; locking around the office a little until finally those hazel eyes rested directly into Lightman's own. But she couldn't hold it for a long time. She looked down at her hands that were now fiddling with the purse.

Lightman, not blind to her apprehensive energy, spoke up and was careful not to cause her any more distress since his curiosity was piqued. He smiled a little with slight amusement at her and spoke softer than he normally did.

"Here at The Lightman Group I'm sure that we'll be able to solve your problem," he assured as he emphasized his English accent knowing full well that with some people his foriegnness could affect people positively.

The hazel eyed woman's shoulders relaxed as she smiled a smile that never reached to her eyes. The words he spoke didn't relieve all of her anxious energy, but enough to make her look him in the eye directly. And despite her right hand still clutching her purse, Lightman saw her bravery being mustered clearly by her hazel orbs and by the way her pulse steadied.

"My name is Rebecca Isaac," she introduced. Another strand of her hair flew out, but she quickly restored order by putting that strand behind her ear. "My lawyer – Att. Mason Carlisle recommended your group to me." She handed him a card that was from the attorney. "He has told me that you are an expert of lies and finding the truth."

Lightman couldn't help but be pleased in seeing Isaac's confidence grow as she talked. The more relaxed she became the greater understanding he had of what kind of person she was. He smiled once more with trained politeness, looked at the card, read it over, and tossed it aside. Priority number one at the moment was her baseline behavior. He would discern the lies later.

"So…a defense lawyer…" he ventured into a drawl. The little, but swift jerk of her head told him he was right. He leaned back and scratched his chin. "So who you want me to acquit?" Isaac's cheeks tightened. He sat up and peered for a few moments at Isaac until the answer came out of his mouth. "Save from prison…"

A distinct sadness flooded Isaac's eyes as her lower lip trembled, but then she laughed. It wasn't a forced laugh, but it wasn't a laugh that came from joy. It was a way to express one's self that Lightman recognized well. This supposedly joyful sound was actually a noise of uncertainty and unwilling humor. And the strangest thing about this laugh was that it sounded normal like the woman had been laughing this pretend laugh all her life.

And then the look of a pained kind of strength came to her eyes as she replied with a voice that spoke of no barren fault, "Yes. My brother, David, he was convicted of mass murder five months ago. He was sentenced to live in prison with no parole, and he's been living in solitary confinement. He's got no one but me. If it weren't for me he'd been staying in that cell for twenty-three hours and walking alone outside for an hour."

She took put a file from her purse and handed it to Lightman. She looked around, and then made eye contact with him.

"I got as much information as I could," she continued. "But it would be easier if you called his lawyer."

Lightman opened the folder, placed it on his desk, and browsed through the papers. He scanned the files; reading testaments, evidence profiles, and psychologists' remarks. He wasn't reading everything that his eye looked upon, but instead searched for key words that would grab him and make the wheels in his head turn. And his mind indeed turned for his eyes focused on the words of a signed confession.

"He confessed…I know." Isaac said.

He looked up and found that her eyes were a little blank as if what she said meant nothing to her. And then she looked away and sighed. He tilted his head to the side in interest with hidden inspection and replied, "Confession or not, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt."

He would make good on his words because he would see the lies and find the truth whether she or anyone liked the outcome or not. He expected to be hired by this person and he would not be corrected otherwise. He watched Isaac return her gaze to him and noticed her attempt to remain calm. She was sitting straighter, her cheeks were relaxed, the hazel in her eyes were not faded, but one thing gave her away besides the increased speed of her pulse.

Her lower lip was once again trembling.

"Dr. Lightman – my brother…" she paused and steadied herself as best as she could. Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears as she continued emphatically, "He's not a killer. He's not made for prison. My brother doesn't deserve this. He's innocent. I know it."

The raw emotion pouring out of her expressions, voice, and words were so powerful that Lightman unwittingly felt a strange stirring inside himself. He was a little confused by this curve ball that was sent at him, but dismissed the occurrence immediately by his analytical mind that ignored emotion of whatever sort.

"We'll look into it," he replied.

Rebecca Isaac nodded. She let out a light exhale of breath, and smiled even though it didn't reach her eyes. But the aura of sadness still emanated from her along with a hint of tattered defiance that Lightman guessed was built from years of experience.

"Thank you, Dr. Lightman," she said softly.

Lightman nodded and followed her walk out of his office with a posture that was a little more confident. He then stood up, crossed to the office's doorway, and looked to his left to see her unattended and unmarred by his or anyone else's eyes. Her stance was straight, her wavy black hair still, and her spacing slow.

"Hmm…" he muttered.

And then he turned back to his office.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

TBC

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that. I hope to update soon!