Part One:

Gillian stands still for a moment and smiles, sipping her champagne. She is wearing a beautiful deep blue dress. It's meant to make her look good, accentuate all the right places, but not be overly flirty. She's here with someone after all, so technically, she's dressed up for him but, just say, if other people wanted to also notice, that will be fine as well. He is standing right by her side where he has been for most of the evening, just like the dutiful good boy that he is. He is the clichéd tall dark and handsome; Irish family, so beautiful eyes and skin but hopefully he doesn't also drink like a fish. It's probably not fair to judge so early on, but she has a history of being attracted to men with substance problems. She doesn't know. She hasn't gotten that far into knowing him. They're still at the casual dating stage. It's still about wondering whether the other person is interesting enough to continue seeing. They have chemistry on some level, Gillian would concede that if asked. He's an attractive man and he's attentive and polite and gets just that little bit animated when they debate politics or a contemporary something from the headlines. They don't talk about work. They're not at that stage either.

Except, by this point in the evening his presence is just starting to grate on her nerves a little bit. He's been following her around since she danced with Cal. Since Cal looked at her that way and let his hand linger on her back just a little bit too long as he walked away. But did Sean see that? Probably not. Because Gillian didn't even let it register in her mind until Sean's hand was on her waist, not her back, and his gaze was admiring, not... not... she couldn't even place her finger on the expression Cal had given her as he had turned to walk away. She just knew it made her feel all kinds of aware.

Of course Sean hadn't seen that. He didn't see what she was able to. And she didn't see what Cal was able to. So did that mean whatever Cal had shot at her had been intentional? Or had it been a mere slip of his mask? And if Sean hadn't seen what transpired, did he pick up on some other kind of signal that Gillian had missed, the one that made him stick to her side like glue until she started to feel a little claustrophobic? At least Cal gave her space. On occasion. Even when she didn't want it. She searches the crowd again, still not seeing him. Maybe it really had been a purposeful signal for her and she was meant to follow him now. But where has he gone? He has not reappeared.

"Gill?" Sean's voice was a low murmur, just for her. She turns her head slightly, gives him a smile, a 'sorry I wasn't listening, what were you saying? smile'. "Would you like another glass of champagne?"

"No thank you, that's enough for me."

"There's orange juice," Sean points out. He is a lawyer. Environmental law. That was probably the initial attraction. He has principals and he sticks to them very strictly. Gillian likes that in a man.

"I'll get it," she tells him with a 'stay!' command hidden in her tone. She slips away from the group of people she doesn't even know and makes her way to the drinks table. She puts down her empty champagne flute and instead takes the moment alone to survey the room again. The open junction of their arterial corridors is host to an unofficial book launch for the tomb Cal has finally finished and is now in print, about to be released next week. Gillian wanted to get in first, to congratulate him on actually gaining the achievement. She'd read it, of course, like she had read all of his books. This was the first manuscript he had given her though and she had been flattered and had gone over it with a fine tooth comb to find something constructive to give back to him. Anything. But it was just about flawless and she had found nothing and so she had handed it back to him with nothing to say other than 'it was great' and no way to keep herself involved even though she wanted to. So she compensated with a party. A party he was probably hating every minute of, proof in the way he had disappeared after his obligatory dance with her about an hour ago.

Gillian straightens her shoulders a little and brings her chin up. Cal always has a way of making her incapable of thinking like she should. She shouldn't be desperate for his attention and she shouldn't have to make him dance with her. Nor should she be hurt by the fact that he only did things when he wanted to... and she was still thinking about him!

She moves away from the table; focussing on a destination was a good distraction. She approaches the table with copies of his book on it. It was a much more personal tale this one. The others were so clinical and yet this one had him imprinted indefinitely on every page. She reaches for one, feeling over the smooth cover, subconsciously wanting to be closer to him. She picks the book up and studies his picture on the inside jacket. It is a good one; flattering. He looks great in black and white; handsome. The scruff on his cheeks has come up in the most...

She turns the page quickly, another distraction. And then she hesitates.

'For my blind-spot. She's always there, even when I don't always see her. But when I dare to actually turn my head and look, everything is so much clearer. I hope I never lose her constant presence, right at my side.'

Gillian stares at the dedication page for a long time. Seriously? She reads it again and then again. She is probably reading too much into it. He is probably talking about his daughter, Emily. She is probably being ridiculous. But it sure sounded like he was talking to her directly. She puts the book down on the table again, thoughtful and indecisive. But then while her mind plays with thoughts like the breeze casually plays with leaves in the fall, something strikes her cold. The way Cal had looked at her earlier when Sean had come to cut in on their dance, that expression that she couldn't explain in nice succinct little bundles of adjectives. She turns her back suddenly on the party and heads for his office.

But he isn't in there. Nor is he in his study, which is where she was almost certain he would actually be. So she leaves again, checking her office, just in case, before skating around the edge of the party, taking advantage of the very low light and loud music to head for the balcony, number four on her list. If he isn't there, then she's going to check his car is still in the garage downstairs...

He is outside on the balcony and he turns when he hears the door and steps out of the shadows. "Hey," she greets him brightly, pleased with her detective skills.

"Hello darlin'," he smiles back.

"Getting some air?" She asks.

"Yeah," he agrees even though they both know he was actually hiding out. "I was gonna come back in, in a minute."

"Sure," Gillian agrees again.

"It's a good party," he gives a slight gesture with his hand.

She gives him another smile. Now that he has moved closer to her she can see his face and he is somewhat genuine with the statement even if the words are probably a little forced. She moves over to the railing and notes that he follows her, standing just behind her shoulder, so he is right in her blind spot. She looks out at the city lights for a moment and shivers a little against a sudden caress of a cool breeze. She hears the rustle of Cal's clothes behind her but is still startled when the warmth of his sports coat is suddenly around her bare shoulders.

"You seem cold," Cal explains in a soft tone.

"Thank you," Gillian responds just as gently, and turns to him, hyper aware that something is happening.

"Somethin' on your mind luv?"

Gillian gives a slight smile. "I was having a look at your book."

"Oh yeah?" Cal rocks, pleased, on his feet. He stands with his hands in his pockets. He's wearing all black this evening. Black trousers, black shirt, black sports coat. A deep red tie would have really set off his outfit. Shame he didn't wear ties anymore. Gillian wonders for a moment why he had stopped. "How'd you like the cova?"

Gillian laughs a little; that was not what she came to talk about and they both know it. "I'm more interested in what's behind the cover."

"Oh yeah?" Cal repeats coming to stand a little closer to where she has her back resting against the rail. She pulls his coat tighter around her, taking in the lingering substitute warmth of his body. "You've already read it," he points out.

"I'm talking about the dedication," she finally clarifies, finding her heart beat a little funny at the admission, like it's a big deal. It's not news to her, her anxiety. When it comes to Cal she was far too on edge far too often. Cal doesn't say anything to that but she notes he doesn't quite look at her directly. "It was very flattering."

"It was meant to be," and then he does look up and she knows without a doubt that it was for her, not Emily or anyone else. Her breath quickens slightly and she tells herself to calm down. This isn't a big deal. It's just a few lines in a book. Flattering, yes, to have a book dedicated to her, but still... just words on a page. "You deserve more than a few lines in a book," he adds in a low voice.

Ok, yes it is a big deal. For them. For her.

Gillian watches him for a moment and he isn't staring at her or studying her intensely, but just watching her, waiting for her reaction, waiting for her to say the next line in this subtle little game they seem to be playing. "We haven't talked in a while."

"No," Cal agrees easily.

"Maybe we could talk now," Gillian suggests without a hint of hope. She expects him to rebuff her and she is already preparing herself to give him his coat back and go inside again. She came for confirmation of the dedication and she got it. She doesn't want or need anything else from him.

"All right," Cal decides, looking like he has just stunned the both of them. He steps closer to her, angling his body in a way so he is half shielding her from the view from the door, keeping his distance but also standing close. Intimate. In a way only Cal seems able to create. Gillian suppresses a second shiver.

"The dedication," she starts, thinking she is going to have to pry conversation out of him...

"Is an apology."

Gillian closes her mouth abruptly.

"For, you know..." Cal vaguely gestures. "It's, you know, how much you mean to me. How much I trust you and how important you are to me."

Gillian looks over at him a little surprised that he is admitting this, and so freely. They're similar heights when she's wearing heels and she's suddenly struck with a memory: this moment has a familiar feel to it. The balcony, at night, a breeze, music in the background, and them talking about their relationship.

"And that I miss you," Cal tells her in a low voice, standing far too close for plutonics. His gaze easily penetrates the dimness around them. Gillian feels like time is standing still for a moment. Cal just watches her, and waits.

"You miss me?" Her voice is small and her breath his short in her chest. Her heart pounds with remembering what else happened that night.

"I miss how we used to be before I was struck down with temporary insanity," the vaguest of a ghost's grin graces his mouth. His words are heavy and she knows he is talking about all that has happened in the last six months. She's also suddenly aware that he's nervous, his body quivers, she can feel it, because he stands too close. There are two options left to her, instil a notion he already knows, or hope that they can move beyond it.

"That's a hard defence to prove."

Cal raises his hands in a sign of parley. "Not even gonna attempt to defend myself on that one. I was wrong and I hurt you and I'm sorry," he drops his hands to her arms and gets a little bit closer. "I'm hopin' we can try and get back to where we used to be." He pauses, his heavy gaze sincere and his tone careful. "What do you think?"

Gillian watches him for a moment, taking just an ounce of delight in letting him squirm for a moment. Yeah, he really had hurt her acting the way he had and no, a simple apology probably wasn't going to cut it, but then he knows that, and so he dedicated his book to her. It isn't just an act of placation though, he means it. She can see it on his face. He is trying to show her.

"Yes," she tells him simply. "I can." Because she had already started to claw her way back; the other balcony scene in her mind was proof of that. She had started to fight back and Cal, for once, had actually let her and here they were now, with the potential to take one more step in the right direction. And she wasn't going to get in the way of that.

"Thank you," he murmurs so softly she almost misses it before he's pressing his lips against hers gently. How has she even let him get that near without shoving him away? He has such a special way of getting close to her skin. Gillian is so surprised by the gesture, the kiss, but for some reason she is not put off by it, not like she thought she might be if he ever dared to actually kiss her properly one day. The other kisses they have shared haven't been repulsive but they have all been an act, a show, for a case. Now she wonders what he had been thinking when they'd kissed those times, back then.

Cal lingers for a second before pulling away again, this time, just half the distance between them than before. His hazel eyes study her in the strange light and she feels a pull that refuses to let her look away from him. And suddenly there it is again, that look that Gillian had been struggling to identify earlier. She is sure of one thing. It makes her stomach quiver and her heart tremor and she has this overwhelming urge to...

"I've seen that expression before," Gillian finds herself murmuring.

Cal moves his entire body in closer this time. "Have you?" He queries genuinely, no more teasing. His eyes rove over her face, over and over.

"Yes," Gillian nods slightly, her eyes never leaving his. "Just before. When we were dancing," she's practically whispering.

"Oh?" Cal raises his eyebrows slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't even know you're doing it," Gillian notes in astonishment.

"I," Cal starts to talk and then stops, stunned, and obviously doesn't know what to say.

"What is it?" She asks him boldly.

"I don't know," he admits on a breath.

Gillian watches him a moment longer but it is gone again and so she straightens up from the railing to put her arms around his shoulders; she is preparing to go back inside. His arms slip under his own coat on her body and wrap politely around her waist. They embrace briefly but it is still enough for Gillian to feel the warmth of his body, to feel the heavy weight of his hands on her back, to take in his scent, to wonder about his lips again, how they feel. As Gillian starts to pull away she brings her face around to see him again and in an instant their lips have met again. She has no idea who just kissed who right now but she knows without a doubt it feels so damn right and her stomach wholeheartedly agrees, leaping to its feet in a standing ovation.

Cal's hands smooth around and tighten on her waist. She slips a hand into his hair, something she has always wanted to do but never found the excuse for. His lips are warm against hers and unashamed in the way they tease and press and then suck and pry and his tongue begs at the entrance to her mouth. She doesn't even consciously let him in; she just knows in the next second, he's there. Her hands simply stroke through his hair and along his shoulders and neck and ear and around his jaw. Her body easily presses against his, wanting to fall into him so completely that she could get lost within the shaded confines of his heart.

Gillian gasps cool night air or she moans delight or something as she breaks away from him, or he pulls away from her; she makes a noise, she's pretty sure it was her. She isn't even sure what she's doing anymore or where she is or what is going on, because all she can think about right now is that that was a very hot kiss and she has never wanted someone so much more than this in her entire life. It scares her. And then before she can register that feeling, something scares her even more. A noise. The door. The door is opening! She pulls away from Cal abruptly, disentangling them both as she turns her head quickly to see Sean leaning through the doorway. He looks surprised to see them there and Gillian wonders just how much he has actually just witnessed.

"Uh Gill I just came to see if you were all right with going home now? I've just had a call from my boss who's in Germany."

Gillian nods, she remembers about his boss. She has lost track of Cal. He's moved off somewhere, slipping away in the distraction. Her heart continues to thunder.

"He needs me to call in at work to find something in a file for him."

"Sure," Gillian acknowledges, not even hearing the details, just noting that it was time to go and he had seen something because he looks a little angry and unsure and hurt. "Cal," she turns to look for him. He's approaching her again, his face in that mask that she has difficulty reading. "I'll see you tomorrow?" She offers him as he starts to pass her slowly, casually, moving to go back inside as well.

"Yeah tomorrow," he agrees making eye contact with her, but she doesn't know what he means. He reaches the door and Sean steps out of his way to let him exit.

Tomorrow did not mean tomorrow at all. It meant...

"Are you ready to go?" Sean interrupts Gillian.

"Yes. I'll grab my purse," Gillian tells him, hating how her voice sounds guilty in her ears. But then, he won't be able to hear that either, will he? She strides down the corridor towards Cal's office, Sean hot on her heels, where her purse is held in the cloak bay next door; her office is locked for this evening. Gillian steps around Anna's desk to get to the back room.

CV PJ

Cal ducks back out of sight as they approach, fearful for just a second, that maybe they were coming to confront him. But Gillian steps behind Anna's desk and he figures she is just going to get her coat. Then he can hear the rumble of Sean's voice through the wall and Cal doesn't quite have the heart to not eavesdrop as much as he possibly could. There's a camera in that little room for security reasons and it wouldn't take much for him to move to his desk and bring up the feed. Except if he left now he would lose precious time and he could already hear his name floating salaciously towards him.

Something about 'Cal gets really close'.

And the returning 'he's my business partner, we are close.'

Then something muffled by a burst of noise from the party Cal hasn't actually been in attendance of for nearly two hours, even though he has been in the building. Gillian's tone is light, comical, rebuffing her boyfriend or date or whatever he is, and Cal feels... what is it he feels? Pleased by that in some way. He can still feel the heat of her body beneath his hands. He doesn't even want to think about her mouth right now. He suppresses a shiver and strains to hear more, his ear practically pressed against the wall.

"It seemed more than a friendly hug."

Cal can hear him pouting.

"Yeah well, Cal's not always good with boundaries."

And Gillian's tone is far too dry for Cal's liking.

"You're still wearing his jacket."

There is a pause and Cal tenses to hear more.

"Oh," Gillian's voice finally responds and Cal can detect that it was strained even through the wall. "I didn't," she hesitates. "I'll leave it in his office."

Cal pushes away from the wall and quickly powers back down the corridor. He uses Gillian's trick of skirting around the edges of the crowd to make his escape for the exit and rushes down the stairs to his car.

Tomorrow. There was something in the way she said tomorrow.

He pulls around the block, just out of sight, but still so he can see, and waits for them to leave. Sean takes her straight home. He walks her to the door. Such a gentleman. Cal waits further down the road for him to leave once more, before starting his car again.

CV PJ

Gillian closes the door on Sean after a polite good night and even a little chaste kiss that she kind of liked even though her mind was already lavishing over the kiss she had shared with Cal half an hour ago. She clicks the catch of the door in place but doesn't lock it. She turns her back against the wood and presses up against it and waits, confident that Cal will come, that tomorrow didn't mean tomorrow. Of course, she could be wrong, she could have misread him. She often did. She will give him twenty minutes, she promises herself, and then she will stop being so absurd and go to bed. What were they even doing? Oh, what if he does show up? What will that mean? And what did the kiss mean in the first place? And who had kissed who? Was that even important? She gives a little silent groan of frustration. She hates that Cal has a special way of confusing her. And why does she have to be such a sucker to keep going back for more?

She hears the scuff of a shoe on the concrete step and she freezes, sure it's him, her heart freaking out over the fact that she was right. Maybe she can read him after all. But then for a long moment there is nothing else. She feels completely insane. Imagining that he would come to her, it's so preposterous. Hoping he had felt something just as strongly as she had in that kiss is just... ridiculous. And then there is a knock on the door.