This is just a random little one-shot I wrote. It doesn't really fit in anywhere in the series but after Fold Equity it got me thinking about what would happen if Gillian got sick of forgiving Cal and sick of being the responsible one. Reviews are always love. Don't own Lie to Me.

***

He'd gotten the call at 11 at night. Gillian was drunk. Really drunk. And for some reason one of her friends thought he was the best person to call. Something about Gillian trusting him. The friend was concerned. Gillian had been upset about something, and the friend had just received a drunken phone call from her inviting her out. But when she had turned her down, Gillian had refused to tell her where she was. So now Cal was out, trawling through all the clubs, trying to find Gillian. He wondered what was wrong. This wasn't how Gillian usually behaved. She was always the responsible one, the one who everyone called when they were in trouble or when they needed someone to clean up their mess. Hell, she was the one he would call whenever he was feeling down, whenever he had had a fight with Zoe, whenever he was drunk and felt the incredible urge to do something stupid. The thought 'I hope it's not me,' popped into his head. He immediately chastised himself. How selfish of him. Like he had that kind of power over her, to make the usually responsible Gillian get completely drunk and go out partying. He shook his head. 'Just keep searching,' he thought, getting more and more concerned as the minutes ticked by.

***

It was 1am before Cal reached the club on the outskirts of town, where he finally found Gillian. He walked through the entrance to be greeted by hundreds of sweaty, dancing people. While this was the last place he wanted to be on a Saturday night, the thought of Gillian alone, in a place like this, was enough incentive for him to push his own feelings aside.

And there she was.

Gillian dancing on a podium, above everyone else, completely intoxicated. And looking so damn hot it was hard for Cal to breathe. She was wearing this little red number that was usually the kind of thing that Gillian would refuse to wear. 'I'm not 20 again,' she would laugh whenever someone would mention how she could pull off a dress like that. However tonight, the rules had clearly changed.

He fought his way through the crowd just in time to see her climb down and start dancing with this much younger man. 'No, boy,' thought Cal disgusted. He had to save her, save her from the alcohol, the lights, the music. And save her from making the same mistake he had made so many times before. She was too fragile, too pure to be in a situation like this. He pushed his way through the throng of people, finally reaching Gillian.

'Gillian, what are you doing? Time to go.'

Gillian turned around and a look of surprise registered on her face.

'Cal. What are you doing here?'

'Saving you clearly.'

He grabbed her arm, trying to get her to follow him.

'Get off me Cal. You're not in charge of me. In fact I do believe you're doing something that I'm supposedly familiar with. You're smothering Cal.'

She turned back to the younger man and continued to dance. Cal sighed.

'Please Gill. You're friends are worried. I'm worried. Let's just go home.' His eyes pleaded with hers.

She turned around, a look of disgust on her face.

'Wow, you are a hypocrite Cal. You're allowed to go out and get drunk, allowed to sleep with whoever you want, regardless of the consequences. But I can't even go out for one night and have a good time? Well fine. Thanks for ruining my evening.'

She stormed out of the club, looking to hail a taxi.

'Gillian, wait up. I can give you a lift home.'

She turned to see him jogging slowly towards her. She had begun shivering, it was cold outside. Cal removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

She looked at him fiercely and shrugged off the jacket.

'Cal, why do you always do this? I can't be around you.'

She turned and walked away, leaving Cal standing there helpless, wondering what had just happened.