Season Four, a lie to me fanfic

Several months ago, Alexander Carey did a Q&A on twitter regarding season four. One of the requests for the Secret Santa was: where Callian is now (has the relationship progressed). So I chose to combine the two and create what I call 'Season Four'. Merry Christmas fandom, and a Happy New Year!

Here's a summary of what Alexander said:

We were going to start season 4 with them together, getting almost caught by Emily, then go from there. Lightman was going to break law and be forced to work for Homicide. Foster was going to return to medical practice. They would be working together and trying to have some sort of relationship. None of it would be easy. Always fun though. It would start with a romantic situation. No one said it would be easy, or conclusive. You do remember Lightman, right?

On the LG: Probably not shut down. We didn't get that far...

Sam Baum, the creator of the show, named him Caldonius Lightman. In season 4 we may have found out that was a false name.

On Foster's background: Bad taste in men despite being CIA behavioural psych, career woman sidetracked by fascination for LM. Daddy issues, sibling rivalries, left home at 16, played in a punk band, psyched her way into Duke...

A loud bang on the door. Gillian got up from the couch where she had been reading and approached, noting how late it was. The knocker banged again. Insistent, with that hint of obnoxious. It must have been Cal. Who else would call on her this late at night with no apparent respect for her neighbours or her own potential state of getting ready for bed? It was, when she pulled open the door, Cal, on the doorstep, hovering it seemed, as if he wasn't even sure what he was doing there.

"Hi," she greeted.

"Busy?"

The question stumbled her. "Well, no, but it's late."

"Yeah it is," Cal noted. And then his face transformed into open curiosity. He stepped forward to the stoop, into the light and politely asked: "Can I come in?" Clearly, he didn't give a toss how late it was.

"Sure," she agreed, stepping aside as he almost barged in anyway. She closed the door and turned towards him. He had taken a few feet further into her living room but stopped and faced her now, waiting. She gave him raised eyebrows. "What do you want Cal?" She didn't mean it to be rude, but he was obviously sober and didn't seem agitated. Nothing had happened at work that warranted an anxious late night call under the pretext of checking up on her, when he was really in search of comfort for himself. So what? What was it and what did he want?

"How you doin'?" He waved a hand at her, an 'either-or' gesture. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she walked to lean a hip on the couch, tucking her fingers into the tops of the pockets of her jeans. "Are you ok Cal?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "No, cos see the thing is." He gave her that open sincere expression that almost seemed fake. She watched as his face crumbled into seriousness and she noted the subtle hints that meant he was nervous. He was nervous. What about?

He cleared his throat and angled his own hip towards her, his hand still in the air, making that slight gesture again, a see-saw. "The thing is," he repeated. "I," he hesitated but finally met her eye. "I love you." He looked a little stricken now and Gillian fought down the urge to laugh.

She did smile though. In amusement. "And you came over here to tell me this now because?"

"Emily made me?" Cal half winced.

"She did, did she?" Gillian's amusement went higher.

"Well. Sort of. All right no she didn't but... I don't know all right?" He was suddenly defensive and Gillian did actually laugh this time. Cal narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm serious here and you're laughin' at me."

Gillian's laugh trailed off in its own sweet time. She stepped towards him as he said: "That's not right Gill, when a man knocks on your door to tell you he..."

"Shut up Cal," she murmured before curling a hand around the back of his head and pressing her lips against his. Relatively chaste, but lingering, and when she pulled back he gave her a purposefully surprised expression. He blinked. His mouth came open a little, teasing her, to be honest, but he didn't say anything. "Oh so you can listen," she told him, smiling again. "And follow instructions."

Cal's eyebrows twitched and Gillian watched, delighted, at how genuinely stunned he seemed. Really? With just that little kiss? Imagine what she could do to him if she tried.

"I do love you Gill," he practically whispered.

"I heard you," she murmured back.

Cal leaned forward this time, a hand on her waist, the other around her ear, a finger curling into her hair. He kissed her firmly. With purpose. How else was he going to make his intentions clear? But still, there was tentativeness there, as if he expected her to back off any second. And when she parted her mouth to invite him in and his grip tightened on her a little more he still was hesitant. She gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, so their bodies pressed together, and the kiss deepened. It was then he lost it. His control. He kissed her deeply, overwhelmingly, as she let out a little noise of either surprise or delight. Either way, at this point, a reaction that was not mocking him was a good one. Her grip tightened too; she tugged on his ear. Cal's hand shifted to the small of her back, slamming her body against his and wrapped his other arm around her. Gillian's arms folded behind his head, her fingers still finding a way to rub his ear though.

Cal worked hard, concentrating on massaging her tongue. She gave just as good as she got and he was aware of how hard it was winding up his stomach. She was warm in his arms, soft but electric with desire and a hit of desperate wanting. She wasn't shy either. He felt her shift without breaking the kiss and the whisper of her fingers at his hips. Oh hell! And then under his shirt, raking fingernails over his flesh. How was there even room? And then on his jeans buttons. Shit she was not shy at all!

Cal almost pushed her away, but it was more like he broke contact with her mouth and kind of stumbled back half a pace. Her eyes were dark and shiny and she still hand her hands on the waist of his jeans. Cal was aware his jaw was hanging open. He was aware how easily she made him look a stupefied fool. But god damn. No, that's all he had. God damn.

Gillian stepped forward, pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, her hands around the back of his jeans to squeeze his ass. She trailed kisses along his cheek to his ear, taking his lobe between her teeth and gently grazing it as she let him go again. Cal's breath hitched and she gave him that amused smile again. And then she stepped back and took his hand and silently led him from the room.

'Oh wow,' Gillian thought, tilting her head back to look directly up at the ceiling. Cal's leg was still partly draped over hers and his fingers were so close so could feel the static charge of them almost touching hers. She turned over on to her right side, facing him, clutching the sheet against her chest with one hand, threading the fingers of her other through his. He turned his head to look at her. His hair was tousled and his eyes dark. Her stomach clenched when she thought about what they had just done. Cal gave her a lazy once-over and broke into a grin. Gillian smiled right on back. Definitely wow.

Gillian half buried her face in her pillow, shifting her hand from her chest to grip the cushion closer. She eyed him from her new perch, not sure what to say. What to say? There could quite possibly be too much. And nothing seemed right for this particular moment. Cal continued to watch her, his expression soft. His hand held hers loosely; his leg was heavy over hers. The sheet barely covered up to his hips and so she studied the expanse of his chest. He wasn't ripped, but he wasn't a slop either. Cal took a deep breath but looked over at the opposite wall, held it for a second and let it go again, without saying a word.

"Finally," Gillian supplied, her brain apparently kicking back into gear.

Cal's head turned sharply to look at her. "Just what I was thinkin'."

Gillian gave him a slight smile, as if to say 'yeah I know'; the corner of her mouth only just visible around the edge of the pillow. What else was there to add to that? She shifted slightly to be heard clearly, "Did Emily really send you over here tonight?"

Cal regarded her for a moment. "No."

"So you just decided tonight was the night?"

"Pretty much."

'Hm,' Gillian thought settling again, this time a little further towards the edge so she didn't have to keep moving to talk. If they were going to talk.

Cal sat up slightly and leaned on the elbow of the hand she was holding. The sheet slipped a little but he didn't seem bothered. He placed his other hand on her hip, instantly warm through the material of her bed sheet. He gestured to her in that way that meant he was searching for the words, or was perhaps completely insecure about them. His face got serious and she watched as it passed into slightly anxious. But she didn't help him out. She just waited, studying him with her left eye, the one that was clear of the pillow.

"Gill," he started. He leaned forward so his other elbow also propped him up but he never let go of her hand, even if his leg shifted to allow him to keep his balance and the hand drifted from her hip. "I love you." He stared her deep in the eye, his face earnest.

"I know," she responded and closed her eye, tucking her face into the pillow again to get more comfortable. But she did give his hand a squeeze and felt the way his grip tightened on hers. After a while, he flopped back against the bed and gave a sigh. Gillian grinned into the pillow, pleased.

Gillian woke slightly to the jostle of the bed. She cracked an eye and still found it dark and she slowly realised who that was, climbing off her mattress. She snuggled her face further into the pillow. She hadn't moved, must have fallen asleep like that, and had no intention of repositioning anyway. The rustle of clothes being pulled over skin. It must be some horribly early hour. That was fine.

And then: "Gill?"

She could hear him creeping closer until she sensed him leaning over her. "Hm?" She responded lightly.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm goin'."

"Ok," she responded simply, barely moving her mouth from the pillow to be heard.

She could feel him hesitating. "Cos Em's at home and..."

"Yep," she agreed.

Another pause. "So I'll see you in the mornin'?"

She almost laughed. She certainly grinned, knowing he couldn't see her. Then she schooled herself again, knowing he would hear her. "Sure," she agreed nonchalantly.

"All right," he just about whispered and she felt his presence start to move away.

She rolled on to her back. "Hey," she called to him gently over the mere feet of distance. He turned back instantly. She opened her arms to him and he leaned down. She wrapped his head up in a hug, pressing her lips against his firmly. "You don't get to sneak out without kisses ok?"

"Ok," he agreed, his voice washing over her in the dark.

Gillian kissed him again, let him go, and snuggled back into the position she was in before, the smile firmly plastered on her face again. She knew Cal stood for a while before going. Possibly watching her, possibly gathering himself together again. Either way, she was having fun and she felt good. And tomorrow would be a whole other day.

Gillian let out a slight moan which was of course muffled by Cal's mouth. He didn't let a millimetre of space between them. She was basically breathing him in. His body was pressed tightly against hers, gravity helping him press down along the length of hers as she lay on the couch. His fingers were at her side, trying to press up her shirt as his elbows rested on the couch cushions. She could feel them on her flesh but also tangled in the material; firm and sure. Her hands were in his hair. She had already relieved him of his shirt and she alternated between scraping her nails over his scalp and over his chest.

Their kisses were heavy and intense. Gillian tugged him close, not that he strayed too far. She wanted more and she could feel the passion coming out of Cal in her bones. She shifted her hips against him, not that he left her much room to move and he gave a little growl, still not allowing either of them room to think.

A car door slammed.

Cal started to pull back even as Gillian pushed him upwards; both of them audibly panting. Cal knelt on the couch and straightened up to gaze through the living room window, like a Meer cat suddenly on the lookout for danger. Gillian could barely sit up with him practically in her lap but she saw the dark shape of someone heading past the window and it set her into a panic. It had the same effect on Cal.

"Shit," he cussed climbing off her awkwardly and reaching for his shirt on the table in front of the seat. He fumbled it over his head while Gillian sat herself up, swinging her legs to the floor again, slipping her shoes back on, doing up the top buttons of her shirt and combing her hair back into place. Cal wiped desperately at the smudged lipstick on his face as they heard the key in the lock. Gillian leaned over to comb his hair back into place and Cal raised a thumb to wipe the blush from around Gillian's mouth too. He gave her a sudden grin and she smiled, her eyes flashing darkly before she gave him a hard shove into his seat. He fell back with an 'oof' as the front door opened. Gillian straightened her shirt and leaned forward to pick up her glass of wine. At least she had a prop. Cal could only sit there, his leg raised strategically in his forcefully casual pose.

"Dad I'm home!" Emily called, letting the front door swing shut behind her.

"In here!" Cal rose his voice. Gillian gave him a smirk around her glass and licked her lips suggestively. Cal widened his eyes at her, staring. "Not fair," he growled lowly. Gillian barely heard him and then Emily appeared around the door.

"Oh hey, Gillian," she greeted.

"Hi Em," she responded.

Cal looked over at his daughter, twisting his head to an odd angle to do so, so he didn't have to move his body. "All right luv?"

"Yeah. I ate out, just so you know, and I'm going to go do this assignment before bed ok?" She took off without waiting for a response.

"All right!" Cal called after her. He turned his gaze back to Gillian, who was still hiding behind her wine glass. "What?" He asked lightly.

"That was close."

Gillian shifted her toe against Cal's neck, wiggling it against the scruff under his jaw. He gave her a bemused smile and smoothed his hand along the back of her calve, leaning down to place a kiss on her ankle. "I want to talk to you about something," she started, hugging the sheet closer against her body.

"I'm ready," Cal responded, shifting forward to crawl up the length of her body, her leg bending against his shoulder as he got closer. She braced her foot against his clavicle and pushed a little, to slow him down. She felt his hand on her thigh, warm and firm, gaining confidence. He leaned his torso over hers and she could feel the delightful temperature of his body. She suppressed a sigh.

"No," she warned him. Cal pressed closer but that was the extent he could ram her leg back against its joint. She used that leverage to push against him again, getting him to back off a little. His eyes were already darker. "I want to talk about work."

"What about it?" Cal backed off just a little so the burn in Gillian's thigh eased. "Are we in trouble again?"

"What do you mean again? It's still Cal. Remember that six figure loan? It didn't magic away over night. It would help if you finished your book."

"I'm workin' on it," he backed off a little more, indignant.

"I'm just saying," Gillian shot back.

Cal gripped her hip and she wondered how he had found his way beneath the sheet without making it obvious. "So what about work then?"

"I want to leave."

"What!" Cal jumped back like he had been bitten.

"Just a few days a week," Gillian implored. She sat up slightly. "Listen to me," she took his face between her hands, letting the sheet slip a little, making sure he couldn't move away, couldn't break eye contact. "I've been talking with a friend. They," she gave a slight shrug of her left shoulder. "Convinced me that I could go back to practice a few days a week."

Cal pointed at her shoulder wordlessly.

"Ok we talked and I said how I missed it, how seeing Claire again reminded me of exactly why I had even bothered to do my doctorate in the first place."

Cal blinked. "You're leavin' me?"

"No, Cal," Gillian held him a little tighter. "I'm talking about a few afternoons a week. So I can do something for me. Something I love to do, besides working with you."

He blinked again. They sat in silence for a moment.

"I have to go," Gillian let him free and slipped out of bed. Cal sat, still hunched forward on his knees to watch her. But he didn't stop her.

"He did what!" Gillian repeated, angry more than surprised.

Wallowski looked a little uncomfortable under Gillian's coiled rage but she stood her ground and raised her chin a little in defiance and said it again.

"In my defence," Cal started to speak up from where he was handcuffed to the perpetrator's bench.

"Shut it," Gillian spat at him.

His optimistic face shifted to startled and he gave in, slumping against the wall, his bracelets clattering against each other. His right ankle was also bound by metal and a chain. It wasn't even Walloski who had made the arrest but as soon as she had seen him she had intervened despite the fact that she worked in homicide and well, his little indiscretion had nothing to do with her or a death.

"What's going to happen to him?" Gillian asked, sounding beaten. Cal looked up at her. She did look a little defeated. There was a distinctive droop to her shoulders.

"He'll get processed. Go through the system."

Gillian's head went further down, as if the sheer weight of what he had done was now pressing down on her.

"Gill," he tried.

"No," she responded sharply, raising a finger in his direction as if she were dealing with a child. She didn't add anything else but he got the message: don't say a thing. Instead, her next words were directed at the police officer: "Can we talk for a second?"

Fifteen minutes later Wallowski was back. With a key. She undid the locks and Cal sprung up like a jack-in-the-box. "I can go?"

Wallowski eyed him for a moment. "On condition."

"What's the condition?"

"Your partner worked out a deal for you."

"What is it?"

"The charges will be dropped and you can go."

"Scot free?"

Wallowski simply stood there and Cal realised he had been out-played by the two women. "Come on then, what kind of deal did you two conspire to arrange?"

"Actually Gillian worked this one out with the Captain. Who was only too happy to have your services made available to the homicide department three days a week."

Cal stared at her in slight disbelief. To an untrained they wouldn't have seen a thing. Gillian would have seen it all. The slight freezing of his features, the way his breath shallowed out, the slight widening of his eyes. "She what?"

"Take it or leave it," Wallowski responded simply and she sounded like she was proud of the other woman for finally binding Cal tightly.

Cal banged on Gillian's door and she opened it a second later like she had been standing there waiting for him, or perhaps had seen the taxi pull up. He barged in, didn't say hello, didn't ask if that was all right.

"So I take it you took the deal," Gillian started.

Cal spun to face her as she let the door slam shut. He was coiled with anger; hers had abated to a dull aching in her throat. He raised his finger, pointed at her and approached, menace in his demeanour. She stood her ground though; his anger fed her rage. "You," he started. "Three days a week? What about the bloody Group?"

"The days you're with homicide will be the days I'm there. When you're at the Group, I'll be at George..."

"So you conspired to keep us apart? I know you have this misguided notion that you shouldn't sleep with a co-worka but seriously Gill? You get to just pimp me out now?"

"Yes I do," she raised her chin in defiance, her eyes flashing. "Because you constantly put our business in jeopardy. Our business, Cal! I sunk just as much into that place as you. Probably more."

Cal's mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Or do you forget Alec and I gave up our honeymoon so I could invest in the Group with you!"

"My," Cal started.

She stepped towards him. "You want to tear it down brick by brick, that's fine. Very shortly I'll just leave you to it."

Cal narrowed his eyes at her. "You what?"

"You forgot that too?" She raised her tone and her eyebrows in a condescending challenge. "You signed the agreement Cal. I got my investment back first..."

Realisation struck Cal hard like a bitch slap. Yes it had slipped his mind but no he didn't forget signing the paperwork in the first place. She invested more money because she had it and he had nothing. Zoe had already sunk her savings into the business at the time, and she had already recouped that cost now. Alec had made it a condition of the loan that Gillian would get her money back first, over Cal. If he was so sure the Lightman Group would be viable then it shouldn't have been a problem. Cal had just not kept that in the back of his mind for the last seven and a half years. "No wonda you worked so hard to keep the business afloat."

Gillian gave a disapproving sigh. She even shook her head slightly. "If that's what you really think," she started, didn't finish, didn't have to. They were silent for a moment, standing next to her front door. "Why did you do it? You had to know it was completely stupid and that you'd get caught."

"Thought it'd be worth the risk," Cal answered.

Gillian looked up to the ceiling and shook her head slightly. "Cal. When are you going to grow up?"

He raised his head, a little surprised at the outburst. "This is me Gill, love me or leave me."

Gillian watched him for a moment, said nothing, just shifted her weight to her other foot. "I can't keep doing this."

"What's that?" Cal cut in. "Bailin' me out? I wasn't askin' you to."

"I know," Gillian responded simply.

Cal stopped, blinked for a moment. "You meant somethin' else though." He wasn't even sure it was a question. Gillian didn't answer him anyway. He had a sinking sickening feeling in his heart; an uncontrollable fear that he had made a mistake; he had over-estimated. "You meant, emotionally unavailable men."

She rounded on him then, her blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"What are you mad at me for?" Cal jumped in before she could say anything. "That's what you mean isn't it?"

Gillian stopped suddenly, her mouth open, ready to retort, and he watched as she got herself under control again. It took a long minute but eventually her shoulders dropped a little and her voice was calm when she eventually spoke again. "Good night Cal."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

He stood for a moment. "We're not gonna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about," she gave him an incredibly brief, forced smile and reached for the door.

"I don't want that."

"Too bad." She turned the door knob.

"I don't get a vote?"

"This is a dictatorial decision." She opened the door.

He stepped forward, placed a hand on her arm. He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he loved no one else, never really had, but it seemed an empty gesture now. Her eyes never left his but now it seemed as though they were really seeing him and he was scared, because he thought she always had. Or maybe she had finally just reached the edge of her limits on being dragged through the rough by him. And really, that scared him even more.

"It's not enough," Cal murmured to himself in resignation, as he stepped over the threshold when what he meant was 'I'm not enough.'

He watched as she greeted Ria at the front desk, picked up her mail and kept walking, her calves perfectly defined in those pumps, her skirt tight, the shirt a tailored cut. She was perfectly made up. She was clearly not very upset at all and that hurt a little more. As she approached her office door she looked up and saw him there. She hesitated just enough, enough for him to see, but she had probably done so sub-consciously; there was no emotion on her face. Cal figured she wouldn't want him to see if she was upset or not.

"Hi," she greeted with a slight smile, still pleasant.

"Hi," Cal responded. She kept walking towards her office, having to approach him to get there. "Wasn't sure if you were in this mornin'."

She slowed down a little now that she was closer. She shook the hair out of her face. "I gave you a copy of my schedule."

Cal gave a little shrug. He either lost it or didn't care to consult it and that made Gillian's head dip with the weight of the realisation that he had not made the effort. "I missed you last night."

"Don't," she told him, her resolve coming back. And then she walked off and left him there, closing her door behind her.

Gilbert Caldonius.

From Caledonia; a Scotsman. That's what his name meant. 'Interesting,' Gillian mused to herself, looking through the one page of basic notes handed to her before her last appointment of the day. She was looking forward to going home. Her new shoes were killing her feet and the rug beneath her desk felt wonderfully soothing as she ran her toes over it again and again while she read. A new patient. He had talked the practice's secretary's ear off apparently. Telling her all about how he needed a shrink to put his head back in its place before he self-destructed on his life. How very astute of him. But he was late, so not exactly off to a good start with turning his life around.

Finally the intercom buzzed on her desk, indicating her client had arrived, so Gillian slipped her shoes back on and stood. She crossed the small space of her office and pulled open the door ready to greet Caldonius and was confronted instead with Lightman. He had one hand shoved deep in his jeans pocket and he was standing by the practice's reception desk, talking to Sam. The young woman shot Gillian a grateful expression. So he was either winding her up or, once again, talking too much.

"What are you doing here Cal?" Gillian asked him.

"This is Mr Caldonius," Sam introduced.

Gillian gave him a slightly disbelieving expression. He hadn't...

Cal gave her a triumphant grin and stepped forward. He had.

Gillian turned to Sam, "you can go if you'd like."

Sam looked surprised and glanced between them but nodded her assent and stood to pack away her things. Gillian stepped back to let Cal in to her office, sure that if she didn't at least find out what the hell he was doing there, he would never leave, or let her do the same. Cal strode past and Gillian let her door close with a soft click. It almost sounded as resigned as she felt. "What do you want Cal?" She asked before she even started to turn and face him.

He was waiting in the middle of the room, his mere presence encompassing the entire space in lieu of his small stature. "You ignorin' my calls?'

"I've been busy."

Actually, she was surprised he had even bothered to call at all. It wasn't like they had just gone weeks without seeing each other. It had been a few days, that was all. A few days so she could clear her head, re-think things, try and find another way to feel. She started to walk across the room. Cal didn't move out of her way. He didn't shift to take a seat. She walked right up to him. "Cal," she murmured, requesting in the way she said his name that he stand aside and let her by.

He did. After a beat. "I thought we should talk."

"So you made an appointment to see me under a false name?" Gillian accused lightly, reaching her desk and wanting to sink against it for some support. She wanted to kiss him. She suppressed a sigh.

"I suspected if you saw my other false name on there you would have cancelled."

"You'd be right," Gillian muttered very quietly and turned to face him again. "You could have used your real name," she suggested heavily. She knew he had one, she just didn't know what it was. She could have looked in to it, but of course it would be more significant if he told her and perhaps that was what she had been waiting for for several years now.

Cal was watching her, both hands in his pockets now. "Three days," he noted. "I think that's the longest we haven't spoken in over seven years."

"I've been busy," Gillian tried again, leaning on the edge of her desk and folding her arms over her chest.

Cal stepped forward. "You know, this is how we first met."

"I remember."

He got a little closer. "I missed you," he tried.

Gillian looked away, seemed to suppress that sigh after all, then looked back up at him. He was close now and she could see he looked tired.

"Thought you might have checked up on me."

"Why would I?"

"See if I turned up for that deal you made with the cops."

"Did you?" She raised an eyebrow, curious.

"You gave them your word that I would be there," he said as if that were all the explanation any answer required.

"Huh," Gillian noted softly. She did half expect him to bail on the commitment. Because she had been the one to make it.

"I'm tryin'."

"Are you?" She looked up and met his eyes.

"That's why I'm here."

"To have your head shrunk back in to place?" She almost laughed, looking away again. Too hard to look at him directly. He had powers of persuasion that required no action and no words.

Cal nodded solemnly. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Well, I'll let Doctor..."

"No," Cal cut her off. "You. I need you."

Gillian looked up amused. "Should I even bother to point out what a massive conflict of interest that would be?"

"Because we work togetha?"

"Because we slept together," she said in a conspiratorial tone, as if the walls could hear, as if she were amazed the words were coming out of her mouth.

Cal grinned. "I rememba. I've been doin' nothin' but rememba-ing the last few days."

Gillian fought her smile. Fought it hard. She was not going to be charmed. She was not. Not again.

Cal's hand came out of his pocket to touch her elbow gently. Gillian didn't flinch away from him and he took that as a good sign. "This is my slot. I will be here every week to talk, to show you, to prove it or whateva I have to do. I know I have to do a lot now, but I'll be here. And I know you probably don't believe me. I haven't given you a lot to have faith in. But I will be here," he got closer still. "And I will show you." He titled his head, trying to catch her eyes, to make her see him.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Gillian told him confidently.

Cal nodded firmly; he deserved that. "And just for the record. When I said that I love you. I meant that too. I really meant that Gill."

She stared at him for a long, long moment, seeing the sincerity written all over him and knowing he was waiting for an answer from her. Waiting for her to stop playing games with him too. Waiting for her to stop lying to herself.

"I love you too."