A/N: In case you are waiting for me to finish my other story – please don't hate me. For some reason, my muse keeps distracting me with ideas for one-shots instead. Especially with ideas for very long one-shots. ;)
Disclaimer: Not mine. This is only some Callian fluff to ease the pain that this wonderful show was cancelled.
The police station is dirty and crowded. An obviously tired out officer leads them to a back room that is even dirtier, has no window, and to make matters worse a malfunctioning air conditioning.
"Great," Gillian says, taking off her shawl. It was a hot day, but the air outside has cooled down in the evening. No comparison to the stuffy air inside.
It was a hot day. Gillian realizes that she blushes at the thought because it has a double meaning, doesn't only fit the temperature. Then she becomes aware of Cal practically devouring the bare skin she revealed by taking her shawl off with his eyes and blushes even more.
She is wearing a slightly sheer summer dress that matches with the color of her eyes and flatters her curves. The officer noticed that, too, when he brought them over. He didn't let Gillian go ahead by courtesy.
"Won't take long, luv," Cal tries to calm her although he has no idea. "They only need our statements."
At least he hopes it will prove itself true, has trouble remaining calm himself. The blunt officer checking Gillian out, the not-so-clean surroundings making her apparently feel uncomfortable, the fact that their evening ends here instead of... somewhere else. There is a limit to everything and anything that involves Gillian implies the risk of overstepping bounds extremely fast in Cal's book.
On cue, a man and a woman appear. They are wearing plain clothes. Detectives, Cal assumes and they confirm his assumption by introducing themselves as Detectives Mike Burdon and Kate Onis. The man politely ushers out Gillian and leads her to another room across the hall.
Why do they separate us? Cal sees the question in Gillian's face before she turns away from him. She doesn't say anything, but he knows that she would rather stay with him right now. He nods to her reassuringly. When she goes past, he reaches out and touches her hand, feeling her fingers hold on to his until she has to let go.
It is standard practice. Cal and Gillian witnessed an armed robbery in the open street and the police need to get reliable statements so that the culprit will be send up. Therefore, they are questioned separately to make sure potential testimonies in court won't provide the defense attorney with a target.
"So," the man that just introduced himself as Detective Mike Burdon starts. "Ms. Foster, um, Gillian... can I call you Gillian?"
She nods briefly in response. He looks so young. She can't believe he is a real detective. Well, she can't believe any of this is happening. Will she have to testify in court?
"OK, Gillian. Call me Mike. So... you and..." He checks up the name in the file. "...Cal Lightman were on your way to the car when it happened."
"Yes," she confirms.
"Where did you come from?"
Why is that even relevant? But she wants to get it over with and answers the question.
"We had dinner together at a restaurant."
The detective checks the file again. They made a rough statement at the crime scene. One of the police officers wrote it down.
"Oh, at that new place where they serve those delicious fish specialities."
The young man is a gourmet. Go figure. Cal, au contraire, complained all evening about the small servings and the fact that they didn't have something as simple as steak on the menu. However, it was a very nice dinner. Cal can be extremely entertaining and charming if he is in the right mood. Gillian smiles, remembering their banter. Then she notices that Mike smiles, too, observing her.
"Yes, we had dinner at Le Poisson," she specifies.
The detective writes something down, probably ticking off his check list. Who? Where? When?
"It was a date," he states, still writing.
Given the circumstances, it is the logical conclusion. Yet, Gillian freezes. Was it? They never called it that when they agreed to have dinner together. If asked, what will Cal say?
"We are business partners," Gillian clarifies, well aware that she is deflecting.
She can't stop thinking about what Cal will say, might have said already, whether they had a date or not. Whatever, she tries to shake off her thoughts. In the end, it's only relevant what they saw regarding the robbery.
"And business partners can't have a date?" Mike asks.
The question is for sure not on his check list he has to tick off. Gillian isn't certain whether he flirts with her or simply is curious. Either way, she thought she caught something in the way he asked the question but if it was there in the first place, it is gone now. He and his partner are experts in interrogating people and hiding their emotions. The perfect match for her and Cal. If they hadn't actually witnessed an armed robbery, she would suppose this is candid camera.
"Well, yes, they can, but we... as I already said; we had dinner together."
Did she stutter? The detective starts to look at her as if she was the culprit. Reliability, Gillian tells herself. You are a scientist; you can do that.
"So, no date?" he asks, a hint of amusement creeping in his voice.
He doesn't care whether you had a date or not, Gillian attempts to convince herself. Just say something so that he can continue with his questions.
"No," she approves, hearing the lie in her own voice.
"So, it was a date?" Kate asks.
They are on first-name basis. Cal doesn't mind. Probably that's how it works best with witnesses. Make them feel comfortable, get the story straight and off to trial. Let alone that she is a pretty, young woman. If Gillian wasn't next door, always on his mind, and her scent still lingering on his skin and clothes, he would shamelessly flirt with the female detective.
Cal smirks, slouching on his chair, cupping his chin in his hand.
"Yes, it was."
Of course, it was a date. They'd had dinner together before, but this time was different. This time he invited her, picked her up at home, and she had changed into another dress. He brought no flowers and wore no suit but only because he is a coward, because he – they – did everything to make it look like a casual event albeit it was anything but and both of them knew that.
"But I can't recommend the restaurant," Cal adds. "Too small servings and no steak."
The moment she denies they had a date, Gillian regrets it. It was a date. They'd had dinner before countless times, but this was their first date. Her first date with Cal. That's why she is so confused whereas he most likely slouches next door as if he owned the scene and probably also stated jauntily that yes, they had a date. So much for reliability.
"And you were on your way from the restaurant to the car?" The question vaults her back to reality. Mike checks the file again. "To Cal Lightman's car that was parked at the far end of the street?"
"Yes."
That was an easy one to answer. Concentrate on the facts and nothing else, Gillian tells herself. Therefore, she doesn't understand why the detective looks at her as if his favorite disciple has just fallen short. Then it dawns on her. They hadn't been directly on their way to Cal's car when they observed the robbery. First she screwed her reliability up because she couldn't bring herself to admit that they had a date and now she can't even get the facts straight. If it depends on her testimony, the culprit will be probably set free. Gillian is tempted to ask the detective to start over. Then again, what kind of impression would that make?
"In a backstreet? If you were on the way to your car, then why were you in a backstreet?" Kate asks.
Thank God, they are no suspects. Cal is good at manipulating people, but some police officers or detectives come a close second, not because they can read faces but because they can detect bullshit. Therefore, he lies and says the truth at the same time, knowing that she will understand.
"My business partner is a beautiful woman and I needed a few minutes alone with her to..." He waves his hands around, slouches some more, loses his balance and almost falls off the chair. "...discuss something."
"So your date," she points to the room across the hallway, "is your business partner."
"Yes," Cal confirms. "Didn't I mention that already?"
The detective shakes her head, no.
"Doesn't that complicate things?" she then asks. "To date someone you're working with?"
"Actually, it's fantastic," Cal emphasizes. "Best idea I had for a long time."
Kate has to laugh about how smugly self-confident he looks.
"And then, after dinner, you and your business partner date had to discuss something very important in that backstreet that couldn't wait until you got to your car?"
Cal rewards her with an appreciative expression and tilts his head back.
"Now we cut to the chase," he says.
"Discuss?" she repeats, but he doesn't comment.
He bets Detective Kate Onis discussed a lot of things in backstreets already and knows exactly what he is talking about.
"Well, not exactly discuss," Gillian backpedals.
How many details is she expected to offer and why is it so difficult? Because you have no idea what Cal and you are to each other after what happened tonight, she scolds herself. And here you are, having to explain it to a stranger.
Why did she even use that word? Discuss. Probably because it actually started out as a discussion. It had been such a perfect evening. Cal and she have not only perfected banter and innuendo; they are also able to talk endlessly about anything and tonight was the perfect mix. She had been so caught up in their talk that she didn't even notice Cal's little detour until they were standing much too close to each other and she felt the brick wall against her back. Gillian still has to ask Cal what triggered his libido, whether it was something she had said or done. She remembers noticing the surroundings, though, the fact that the main street was quite far away suddenly and the backstreet they were in too deserted and dark. Yet, it didn't bother her as much as it should have because she was with Cal and he was close. Very close.
"At first it was a discussion and then...," her voice trails off.
It was a brilliant idea to insist that Cal and she had no date. Mind-boggling. Marvelous. In other words: complete nonsense. How is she supposed to explain what happened in that backstreet after they'd had no date before. She basically outsmarted herself. Go see a psychologist, Gillian. Great, it's the perfect time for sarcasm to enter into an inner dialogue with her. Obviously, she spends too much time with a witty, sarcastic Brit. And sexy. Not that she plans on telling him that. At least not in the near future. Otherwise, his cocksure behavior (that she secretly loves, after all it's part of what makes him so sexy) will become even more insufferable.
Gillian realizes that Mike is still looking at her, waiting for an explanation. He is a detective, for God's sake. Can't he tell based on her embarrassment and body language what she refuses to say? Probably. Why is it even important what they did or did not do in that backstreet? Gillian decides that offense is the best defense.
"Why is it important what we did?" she asks, liking the aggressive sound of her voice. She doesn't have to justify herself or her actions. Let alone Cal's.
"Because the sequence has to make sense," Kate patiently explains to Cal as if it wasn't self-explanatory since they are talking about a crime here and he is an intelligent man.
Cal changes position; he has no favorite side when it comes to slouching. She smiles. It's people like him that make her job interesting. You never know what to expect.
"The more credible your statement, the higher the chance that the defense attorney will make a deal and you won't have to testify in court. Neither of you," she adds.
Somehow she knew that would get her a reaction. His expression hardens at the thought of his female company, significant other, whoever she is to him, having to testify in court. He wants to avoid that at all cost.
"OK." Cal sits up like a pupil willing to be as good as gold and please his teacher. "What do you need?"
Detective Mike Burdon leans forward and pulls some brick crumbs out of Gillian's hair that must have gotten caught there when Cal pressed his body against hers, her back against the wall. The crumbs easily grind into a powder between his fingers.
"I'm gonna help you out a bit," he says sympathetically. "I don't know if it was your first date or how good you two know each other aside from being business partners and having dinner together sometimes." The irony in his voice is not lost on her. Yet, it is a friendly irony as if he understands. "But I know that you didn't have a discussion in the backstreet. At least not only."
Gillian's eyes are fixated on his fingers that grind the last pieces of the brick crumbs.
"I know it because of that," he adds, his glance following hers. "Plus there are some scratches on your right shoulder."
There are? Gillian tries to have a look, but the scratches are on the back of her shoulder and she has to touch them to acknowledge that they are actually there. How did she get them? Oh... She remembers and can't prevent herself from blushing.
"Who saw the attack first?" Mike gently asks, politely ignoring her reaction. He apparently has a theory due to the crumbs and her scratches. "As I told you, the credibility of your statement as well as a logical sequence why and how you were able to witness the crime are important.
Gillian takes a deep breath, sits up, and makes eye contact.
"I did."
"So you looked toward the wooden shed at the end of the back street?"
She nods.
"How tall are you?"
Gillian frowns surprised but follows his method of inquiry.
"I'm five foot five."
"Do you know how tall Cal Lightman is?"
"Five foot seven."
The detective doesn't comment on the fact that she knows Cal's exact height. He glimpses at her high heels, then looks straight in her face.
"So where was Mr. Lightman at that time? Next to you? In front of you? Could you see the attack over his shoulder?"
They are about the same height when she wears high heels. Still, she couldn't have seen the attack over Cal's shoulder. It would have been the wrong angle since the attack took place at the other end of the street. Simply looking over Cal's shoulder wouldn't have been sufficient for her to see it and the detective knows that. Observing the attack required her to be a bit... higher. Gillian is embarrassed in advance because of what she has to describe next, but there is no way around it.
"Cal was... He was standing right in front of me, but I didn't see the attack over his shoulder. Well, at least not standing face to face."
Mike nods approvingly, assuming what comes next. He expected some more cover-up tactics from her instead of the truth and is relieved. She is a credible witness after all. And a beautiful woman. He rubs his fingertips again even if there are no more crumbs to grind. Cal Lightman is a lucky man.
Gillian didn't see the attack over Cal's shoulder. In fact, she saw nothing at first because they were kissing and her eyes were closed. Only when Cal grabbed her and lifted her up so that she could put her legs around his hips (what in hindsight must have caused the scratches on her shoulder because he also pressed her even more against the wall in the process), she was so caught off guard that she opened her eyes and saw something flicker in the background. She was about to ignore it when she felt Cal's lips on her neck and his hand searching its way between their bodies, touching her, yes, right there, before he reached for her panties. Gillian remembers how impressed she was that he could hold on to her body and at the same time free one hand to touch her. But then she saw that weird flicker again and something else – two shadows moving as if they were about to fight. And when she saw the flicker another time, she realized that it was the blade of a knife.
She gasped Cal's name and he growled in response, in the heat of the moment mistaking her fear for passion. Only when she called out his name another time, quiet enough that no one else would hear her but determined enough to irritate him and make him stop, he realized that something was wrong. Her heart aches at the memory of the utter confusion and desperation on Cal's face, wondering what he had done wrong. Then his gaze followed hers and he gently let her down, making sure they made no sound.
"I only was able to see the attack over Cal's shoulder because he had lifted me up. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to see it from that angle. It was the reflection of the blade that caught my attention first. After that, I made out the man and his attacker."
Again, Mike Burdon doesn't comment on her statement, just writes it down in the file, but all Gillian can think is that fate somehow has found a way to have the first make out session of Doctors Lightman and Foster perpetuated in a police report.
"What happened once Ms. Foster saw the attack and brought it to your attention? After you let her down that is."
Kate tries very hard to keep a straight face and successfully so, but of course she can't trick Cal.
"Stop laughing," he grunts.
This is about credibility and details. Cal for sure isn't going to give her more details than necessary though. There was no way around pointing out that he had lifted Gillian up because otherwise she wouldn't have been able to see the attack. Cal isn't certain whether Gillian will reveal that detail or not. He thinks yes because she wouldn't tamper with her statement and the truth just to avoid being embarrassed, hopes it is yes because he doesn't dare to imagine his punishment if he was wrong and thereby the one who made their almost-against-a-wall-in-a-backstreet-sex official.
But every other classified detail will remain in his memory alone. The way he reluctantly disentangled his hand, feeling the cold air of the night on his skin instead of the warmth between her legs. Gillian had reached for his belt already. A few moments later and her observation of the attack would have caused a coitus interruptus. In that case, Cal probably would have killed culprit and victim himself, using his bare hands.
Cal moves and smells Gillian's perfume that is everywhere on him and his clothes. He wants to close his eyes and indulge in memorizing everything that happened tonight. The detective needs more facts though.
"Gillian called 911. I told her to stay put and started to walk over to the two men."
Kate raises an eyebrow as if to say stupid civilian, wanted to show off in front of his date and risked his life in the process. She is right and wrong at the same time. Cal didn't want to show off; he is not the kind of man do to such a thing. However, it probably was reckless that he intended to go over and smooth down differences between the two men without knowing what was going on. Cal had been in so many fights in his life, though, verbal as well as physical, that he simply didn't give thought to it until Gillian called him out on it. More classified details that he is not going to share.
Cal, stop. Where do you think you're going?
He heard her voice behind his back, a whispered scream, and turned around.
I'll just take a look, luv. Maybe I can help. They have a knife, not a gun.
She closed the distance between them and grabbed his shirt, bottling him up.
You don't know that, Cal. Just because we didn't see a gun doesn't mean they don't have one. Do you want to get yourself killed?
Fear was written all over her face. He could see it easily, even in the dark. Yet, he gently began to pull her hands away until her quiet voice interrupted his attempts.
Do you want to get me killed?
That made him stop dead in his tracks and at that moment a police car arrived.
"Turns out a police car was close by that arrived at the crime scene within what felt like less than a minute," Cal recurs to the relevant facts.
It also turned out that the culprit had a gun and used it when the police arrested him. Luckily no one got injured, but Cal couldn't look at Gillian when he heard the shots and felt her flinch beside him. She got closer to him so that their bodies were touching and he put an arm around her and held her tight, aware that she didn't shiver from the cold.
Apology accepted, Gillian's eyes said when she saw the look on Cal's face as he let go of her.
It was true, he regretted that his behavior almost had gotten her in danger. Anyhow, he couldn't help but also regret that his part in all of that hadn't been more physical. Sometimes Cal Lightman longs for the raw truth of a fist fight.
"OK..." Detective Mike Burdon checks the file, or more likely, his list. "I think that was about it."
The detectives know the rest from the statements of the on-scene police officers and the victim. Since Gillian and Cal had watched the attacker narrowly until the police arrived, the chain of evidence is intact and leaves no doubt that the man the police arrested is the delinquent.
"Oh, one more thing. I need your weight and dress size."
"Say again?"
It's way past midnight. The adrenaline rush is over and Gillian is tired, tired of having to reveal what she would have preferred to remain private, tired of being separated from Cal. She is just about to say something that comes very close to an insult she wouldn't use on any other day when he starts laughing.
"Sorry," Mike says, still laughing, "I was joking, but it's been a while since I've gotten the chance to interview someone who gets embarrassed in such a lovely way like you. I couldn't resist." He pauses and puts out his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Gillian Foster. I hope that was the last armed robbery you had to witness in your life."
"Oi."
Cal and the other detective just came in and overheard the last words.
"Making friends?" Cal addresses Gillian. "Something I should know?"
He gets closer and Gillian can tell that he wants to make the detective stop touching her hand. She takes a deep breath. His behavior always was proprietary but open jealousy is something she has to get used to.
Eventually, Mike Burdon lets go of her hand and stands up, implying that they can go now. It doesn't surprise Gillian that the female detective darts a glance at Cal that is admiring and leering at the same time when they walk by.
"Bye."
Cal doesn't turn around to look at the detectives but raises a hand to wave at them as they leave, putting his other arm protectively around Gillian's shoulders.
"They are business partners," Kate says.
Mike nods thoughtfully.
"They are dating," he adds.
"Do you think we should...," she starts, but he interrupts her.
"No. Tomorrow, 8 p.m., Le Poisson."
He doesn't look at her as he leaves the room.
"Tomorrow, 8 p.m.," she repeats in a whispered voice.
Maybe they will end up in a backstreet against a wall, too. Sans the robbery. Doesn't sound that bad.
The air has cooled down significantly; Gillian puts her shawl on. The police offered to give them a ride to Cal's car, but he insisted on taking a cab. He doesn't want to spend any minute longer under observation.
As they get in the cab that Cal flagged down, he leans forward and whispers into Gillian's ear, "Do you want your panties back?" He makes a move as if he is about to pull her silky panties out of his pocket and smirks when Gillian's hands grab her own hips, feeling for her underwear that is just where it is supposed to be. Considering what happened, though, she wasn't certain, if only for a split second. He had been so close to take her panties off that it rang true.
"Not funny, Cal," Gillian hisses when she realizes that it was a joke but then has to grin no matter how tired she is.
They sit down in the backseat of the cab and remain silent for a moment.
"Did you tell them we had a date?" Gillian breaks the silence, her tone of voice revealing that she is not smiling anymore.
"Did you?" His face doesn't give away anything.
She doesn't look at him but straight ahead, her body language a mix of annoyance and tension. "I asked first."
"Yes," Cal eventually admits, "I told them we had a date."
He studies her face askance because Gillian keeps looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. Cal realizes that she probably didn't know what to say when the question came up during her interview, maybe even denied they had a date. That's why she is so tense and can't look at him, especially not now that he confirmed he answered the question in the affirmative. Guilt. She feels guilty because despite what else happened between them tonight, he was the one of them to put a clear label on that new part of their relationship and not her.
Cal doesn't want her to feel guilty. There is no need for it. Everything that happened was confusing and that refers to the robbery as well as to what happened in that backstreet. He is simply faster in processing situations like these than she is.
"Gill, darling, look at me." Cal touches her hand and she finally makes eye contact, the guilt slowly being replaced by relief about what she sees.
"You realize that it's all in a police report now?" Gillian thinks aloud, embarrassment and shame flashing over her face.
"Every dirty detail," he muses, not embarrassed or ashamed at all. "I just couldn't remember the color of your panties. Was it blue or red? Silk in any case."
For a brief moment Gillian believes that Cal actually spilled every detail. Only when he can't bite back a teasing leer any longer, she leans back and pouts.
The silence between them is comfortable now.
"I think they are dating or about to date," she states out of the blue, but he gets the meaning instantly. The detectives.
"Yeah. Her face when I told her we are business partners and had a date..."
"We are business partners and had a date," Gillian repeats quietly. "I like the sound of that."
"Former or latter?" Cal asks.
"Both." It's the perfect package.
Suddenly, Cal leans forward and tells the driver his address.
"What about your car?" she asks startled.
"I can get it tomorrow or later today," he corrects himself after he consulted his watch. "It will take us at least 30 more minutes to get my car. We need to sleep, I don't want you to be alone after what happened and my place is nearest."
Gillian eyes him scrutinizingly, can't tell what his motives are.
"I don't want to be alone," Cal admits.
There was a similar situation years ago. They were taken hostage and his life was threatened. He slept in her spare room that night and she can sleep in his now. If she doesn't want to sleep in his bed that is. Either way, his need to be with her tonight is not about sex but about the emotional bond between them. There is no way he will allow them to spend the night apart.
"OK." She nods.
He expected more resistance or at least an ambiguous comment but thanks to fatigue and the late hour she simply agreed.
Cal puts his arm around Gillian and she leans her head against his shoulder, yawning with pleasure. She blinks and then closes her eyes. Moments later, she feels his touch on her thigh. Gentle, testing, not urging her in any way.
"Tired?" his mouth has to be flush against her ear, his words reverberating in her body as his fingers start to stroke her skin tenderly. Frissons of excitement flood through her.
"Yes," she answers, anyway, because it is the truth. She is tired and so is he and yet...
Gillian grabs Cal's wrist when he is about to pull his hand away.
"But not too tired for this." She tilts her head back, opening her eyes before she kisses him. "We won't need your spare bedroom."
They just lean forward to kiss again when there is a loud noise, the right side of the cab scraping by some parked cars until the driver stops it. Apparently, he was busy looking in the rearview mirror, observing his passengers getting it on, instead of paying attention to road traffic.
"Sorry," the driver turns around and looks at them with big eyes, apparently and justifiably upset. "My insurance won't cover it and I'll lose my driving license if I don't report that to the police, but I won't charge you anything and we'll drive on as soon as possible if you want to wait."
"Sure," Cal says as Gillian goes into spasms of laughter next to him. "Ask for Detectives Burdon and Onis. They will want to take our statements as witnesses even if it's not their department."
The driver gets out to make the call, turning on the radio for their entertainment.
"I can't believe this is really happening," Gillian says, still laughing.
She is beautiful but even more when she looks as happy and easy-going as now.
"It is," Cal assures her, smiling first but then getting serious.
He pulls her toward him to kiss her again. Why waste time. The way things are going, they will be here a while longer.
A song starts to play that sounds familiar.
Oh, what a night
Hypnotizing, mesmerizing me
She was everything I dreamed she'd be
Sweet surrender, what a night
It's not one of his favorite songs, but the words are so bloody fitting. Cal pulls Gillian closer until she practically is sitting in his lap.
"Be careful, this could end up in another police report," she breathes into his ear before she slips her hand under his shirt.
Oh, what a night, indeed.
- The End -
Reading the last part is even better when you actually listen to Oh, what a night/December 1963 by The Four Seasons.
At least that's what I did writing it. It made me smile the entire time and is the reason the story ends the way it does.
By the way, I know the ending has potential for more chapters, but the concept of this story was always meant as a one-shot.
Sorry guys! Hope you enjoyed to read it anyway. :)