A/N: This story takes place after "Tractor Man," and is dedicated to all of you who thought a certain tender moment in "Secret Santa" could have gone just a little bit further. It's a little silly, so I'd be grateful if you let me know if I pulled it off or not. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still don't own any television shows. I know, right?

"Missed Target"

Cal looked up from his desk, smiling as brightly as his fatigue would let him when he saw Gillian enter. He had only walked in the door a few minutes ago, and would have left by now if sitting in his chair hadn't felt so good.

"You gave me quite a scare, Cal," she said. He saw her blue eyes sparkle with joy at his return. "How was the flight?"

Cal smirked. "Oh, you know the government. Like to put their hired hands in the lap of luxury, they do."

She gave a small laugh and a warm smile. "I think your dangerous missions quota for the year is used up. Next time, they'll just have to send me."

Cal grimaced at the thought. "Nah, you're way to valuable. If we had to risk losing someone, couldn't it be Loker?"

Another smile from her, and he found the strength to gather his things and stand up. How long had he spent in South America? Three days? It seemed impossible that the two of them had been standing in this very room only seventy-two hours ago. When the State Department had called for urgent help in a negotiations crisis, he had barely thought twice before packing up and heading out. Now, with Gillian Foster standing only a feet away from him, he wondered why he had ever left in the first place.

He could see the concern on her face as he approached, and he knew instantly what she expected him to do. In the past few months, a hug and a peck on the cheek after a tense situation had become something of a ritual, and he had no intention of breaking tradition. Setting his briefcase on the floor, he reached out his arms, and without a word, she did the same. As he put his arms around her and pull her closer to him, he could feel the soreness start to melt away, and for the first time in three days, he felt at ease. Within seconds, Gillian pulled away from him and started part two of their ritual: the peck.

Cal leaned in ready to play his part, but somewhere between his tired legs and his throbbing head, he momentarily lost his balance, and before he knew it, he missed his target. Instead of connecting with her cheek, as planned, Cal found that his lips were crushing against Gillian's.

He pulled away.

A moment earlier, a warm affection had permeated the room. Now, Cal could feel a familiar but uncommon stab run through his body. Awkwardness. Severe awkwardness.

He felt some other things, too. Confusion. Fear. He wouldn't let his mind catalogue the rest. What was he supposed to do next, pretend like it didn't happen? No, he couldn't deny it now. He had kissed Gillian, full on the mouth and completely by accident. Or was it?

Finally finding himself able to move, he put two fingers to his lips and felt a trace of her lipstick. He dared to look up into her eyes, seeing his feelings reflected in her face. He quickly put his head back down.

What are you supposed to do when you've just kissed your best friend?

What are you supposed to do when you kissed your best friend and you liked it?

The silence was heavy and unbearable as Cal and Gillian tried not to look at each other. Soon, Cal couldn't bear it anymore.

"Uh, sorry about that. I, uh, I slipped."

Gillian blinked, then opened her mouth, and shut it again. She swallowed.

"It's, it's okay. You must be tired." The vulnerability washing over her was painfully obvious. Somehow, this was hurting her. Cal was growing frantic as he tried to figure out what to do next. Should he give her a compliment? Make a joke? Give her another hug?

The only thing he really wanted to do was kiss her again, but he was sure that would be off of the table.

"I-I, um," Gillian said as an embarrassed smile crept over her lips, "I have some paperwork I should get done before I head out."

She turned to leave, and Cal tried desperately to find some words to put into his mouth.

"A little late for paperwork, isn't it?" He looked at his watch to avoid her gaze when she turned back to look at him. "It's almost ten. Why don't you just leave it 'til morning?" His hands were in his pockets and he was rocking on his heels. She could probably see that he was just stalling, just putting off her departure until he could figure out how to fix what he'd done. Would she play along?

He took a chance and looked up at her, seeing instantly the unsure posture, the tense cheeks, and the hurt eyes. It was the eyes that worried him the most. How had he hurt her? Was she offended by the kiss? Did she think he had disrespected her somehow?

Or could it be . . .

There was a possibility that he had been too afraid to think of before. What if she wasn't upset by the fact that he kissed her? What if, instead, she felt rejected because he apologized for it?

It was worth a shot, right?

Just as Gillian turned to leave again, Cal called out her name to stop her.

"Yes, Cal?"

"I, uh . . ." He'd known her for a decade, and yet he could tell that the relationship they had built over that time hinged on what he said next. What if he said the wrong thing?

"Gill, can I kiss you again?"

Cal could kick himself for letting those words tumble out. "Can I kiss you again?" Was he twelve?

When he had the courage to glance back her way, he found a smile waiting for him. The pain in her eyes was gone, replaced with the sparkle that he had seen earlier. She took a few steps towards him, stopping only when her face was only inches from his. A shyness came over her as she looked down and bit her lip. Then, she made eye contact.

"I suppose we might as well do it properly," she said.

With a smile that seemed to reach from one ear to another, Cal wasted no time doing exactly that.

THE END