A/N: I've been on a small hiatus. I misplaced my Muse. Last night, she unexpectedly accosted me in the shower and made me write this (not in the shower, but later) just in time for Lie To Me Lives! Huzzah!

Now for the Bad News: this short one-shot contains death. It's more than angst. It presses beyond bleak and kind of verges into depressing. You have been warned. It's not for everyone.

Now for the GOOD NEWS: I'd never leave you without a silver lining, dear readers. (assuming there's more than one of you...)

Last, the requisite Disclaimer: I don't own Lie To Me nor the characters nor the actors who portrayed them...let's just leave it at that, shall we?

And so it goes.

~I guess we're all one phone call from our knees~
~We're gonna get there soon~

Ringing.

It was the distant but persistent ringing that woke me.

Not distant. On the nightstand. My cellphone. I wasn't all the way awake, and I answered without even looking to see who was ringing me at...

2 a.m.

It was 2 a.m. I looked at the clock as I muttered something akin to 'hello' into the phone. I didn't recognize the voice, not at first. It took me a bit to work it out through my sleep-muddled brain and the caller's uncharacteristically halting, thick speech that was punctuated with pauses for deep, unsteady breaths-

Reynolds.

He said she was taken fast, that she probably never knew.

He kept talking, but I didn't hear his words. I only heard the sound of his voice as it echoed inside my head, a dull hum that just spun in and around my confused thoughts.

Thought.

One thought - this can't be real. This has to be a mistake.

"Lightman? Lightman? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Ben, I'm here."

"Look, do you...do you want me to call anyone else? Loker or Torres? Or do you wanna call 'em? I mean... I can make the calls if you want or, y'know, if you'd rather they heard it from you or... You're listed as her 'next of kin' - did you know that?"

(pause)

"Yeah. I knew. Yeah."

"So, uh, you wanna call anyone?"

(pause)

"No. No, Ben, I don't."

"You want me to-"

"I'd be grateful, yeah."

"Alright, then. I'll take care of it. And, uh, I am...I am just so...sorry. Cal."

I don't even really remember ending the call. I just sat there on the edge of my bed staring at the phone in my hand and feeling completely numb for while.

What I wouldn't give now to regain that numbness.

~C&G~C&G~C&G~C&G~C&G~

We had worked late, the two of us. Nothing unusual. After tying up some loose ends and doing a little prep work on a pending case for the next morning, we stopped off for a quick bite together. As it has been for some months now, we seemed to be almost on the edge of- something. We've been dancing around it for ages, really; and recently, we've danced closer and closer. Each of us has come nearly to the point of broaching the subject more than once, I think; but something always interrupted or held us back. And so.

I said I was off home. She had a quick stop at the store first on her way home, she said.

I helped her on with her coat, and we walked outside. It was on our way back to the cars that she realized she'd left the case files for our morning meeting on her desk. She told me she would run back by the office to grab them after her store stop and before heading home.

She got into her car, and I closed the door behind her. I didn't even think to hug her. Funny that should occur to me now.

"See you in the morning, Cal. Don't be late!"

She was always very punctual, Gillian. Valued punctuality. Hated it when I turned up late...

When she had her last glance at me, did I look her in the eye?

Though I never spoke the words aloud, I wonder - did she know that I loved her?

Did she know it when she died?

Was her final thought of me?

I wonder how long such thoughts and memories will haunt me, whether waking or sleeping. There can be no escape now.

How often do we love someone but we're too fearful, too proud, too foolish to speak the truth?

And then one day, it's too late. The moment is gone.

~C&G~C&G~C&G~C&G~C&G~

I try to think. I try to think of things I'll need to do. Of the things she'll need me to do. In the morning, I'll have to begin to make arrangements. That's what we agreed, she and I. We would do this for the other, if the time ever came.

I just didn't expect it to be this way round, really.

How am I to do this?

How am I to arrange and attend a funeral for her and somehow hold it all together in front of everyone when all I want to do is grieve and ache, and I feel like I'm breaking apart?

How am I to walk through the rooms of her home and pack away the pieces of a life lived and cut far too short?

Somehow, I manage.
I did what had to be done.
I did it for her.

I did alright til I went into her room. I buckled under the weight of her presence in every corner, every colour, every texture, every scent. I felt her there with me as clearly as if she stood beside me yet not near enough to touch.

So I did the only thing I could do. I lay across her bed and wept until there was nothing left in me.

Ringing.

It was the distant but persistent ringing that woke me.

Not distant. On the nightstand. My cellphone. I wasn't all the way awake, but I managed to glance at the alarm clock with bleary eyes and then squint at the caller ID before muttering something akin to 'hello' into the phone. And suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the most horrible sense of foreboding that I actually began to sputter and gasp.

The caller spoke my name.

"Cal? Are you okay? You sound...off."

(pause)
(reality check)

"Gillian?"

"Yes, it's me. I wanted to make sure you didn't oversleep this morning. We've got that 7:30, remember? You promised to be on time."

"It's only just gone six, Gill. Had my alarm set for half six."

"Cal, that would leave you only an hour to roll out of bed, make yourself presentable, get out the door, drive across town, and make it to our meeting on time."

"Plenty of time. I roll out of bed already presentable, I'll have you know."

"That's...debatable."

"Really? And the last time you personally witnessed me rolling out of bed was...when, exactly?"

"Rise and shine, Cal."

(sigh)
(relief)

"Alright. Thanks, luv."

"You sure you're okay? You didn't sound right when you answered."

(pause)
(reality check)

I've never been one for attributing revelatory meanings to dreams.

Never been one to base major life decisions on premonition, which I don't believe in anyway.

First time for everything, yeah?

"Cal?"

"Yeah, I'm fantastic."

"Okay, then. See you at 7:30, sharp."

"I'll be on time. I promise. Gillian?"

"Yes?"

"What do we have after this 7:30?"

"Mmm...nothing til our 1 o'clock staff meeting. Why? Wanna grab some lunch together beforehand?"

"Yeah, darling, love to. And I want us to talk. There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

-FIN-