A/N: This is my first LTM story and even if I've been posting stories here for over a year, this is a first time again and definitely feels like it with all the inherent excitement and unease. Therefore, I hope you are gentle and welcome me in this fandom. I am fascinated by the show and its characters, especially by the chemistry between the two leads.

The story is set in Season Three, sometime after Rebound. Oneshot. Callian all the way. I hope you enjoy it!

A heartfelt thank you to Roadrunnerz for encouraging me to write a LTM story.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. LTM is owned by Fox. This is for fun only.


One word. Three letters. His name.

Cal Lightman heard someone else utter his name countless times in the course of his life. It was mispronounced, articulated, yelled, slurred or moaned. Other people said his name while being angry, sad, happy, indifferent – you name it.

But nobody says or has ever said his name like Gillian Foster. His partner, best friend and...

"Cal," she looks at him with this mixture of annoyance, curiosity and affection that gets on his nerves when he sees it in the face of anybody else. But it's her, and she never gets on his nerves. Well, on rare occasions, maybe, but these are really extremely rare. Most of the time, it's vice versa.

She asked him something about an appointment tomorrow. Nothing important. This is not about the question. This is about his behavior, about the fact that he deliberately does not answer.

He stopped counting how often they have already done this symbolic dance of pushing and pulling. Cal knows he probably pushed her away one time too many recently. It is getting more and more difficult to pull her back into his universe after one of his lapses. The universe in which he makes the mess, and she cleans up.

When he doesn't react and just keeps staring at her, she shakes her head in resignation and turns around to walk away.

Maybe you didn't try hard enough, she told him when he interposed that he couldn't even get near her when she was on the rebound. He was stunned by her statement, by its casualness. Later on, his bafflement turned into uncertainty about the chance he might have missed and even more uncertainty about the nagging question whether it is too late for a second chance or not. And since Cal Lightman doesn't do uncertainty, he absorbed the unwelcome, niggling feeling and turned it into anger. The anger is always there these days, right beneath his provocative behavior.

He is aware that it is bordering on ridiculous – the way they tiptoe around what they are to each other. He is sure, pretty sure, that he means a lot to her. More than a business partner. More than a best friend. But pretty sure is not enough to risk it. Cal Lightman, the infamous interpreter of micro expressions, has serious trouble reading Gillian Foster. And this is unfortunately not bollocks, as he would love to swear, but the painful truth. She is his blind spot. Therefore, he could be wrong. And instead of telling her what he feels, he is retreating more and more into his shell of silence and defiance.

If he can't have her in that worst possible way they never talk about, then he at least wants to hear her say his name in this special way nobody else says it. And no matter how often she says it, no matter how often he hears it, he just can't get enough. Most of all, he likes the way she says his name when she is slightly annoyed. Well, even more than slightly sometimes – like here and now. If he is honest with himself, it almost turns him on because he imagines this will be the way she says his name when...

His daydreams are interrupted when Cal realizes that Gillian has almost left his office. Hence, he walks past her quickly and obstructs the door. Invading her personal space as a result. As he always does. When she doesn't react – doesn't step back, doesn't put her hands against his chest to hold him back gently, he gets even closer.

"Cal," this time, her voice is almost a whisper, sending shivers down his spine. Vulnerable. Distraught. It's wrong, he knows so much, but it feels like a triumph. Only he has the ability to make her voice sound like this.

She looks away as if ignoring him could make him disappear somehow, but, of course, he is still there when she looks back at him. Still standing in her personal space.

Use your words, Cal, she often reminds him when he uses facial expressions as a surrogate. Yet, considering what is at stake, he simply can't. Thus, he keeps pushing her away when he actually feels like pulling her close.

He knows that this won't work forever. There are days when her patience is slipping more than usual. Some day, she won't tolerate his behavior anymore, and today seems to be pretty close to this day. Usually he relies on his charm, and in the end, she smiles and gives in. Her tense body language tells him, though, that it won't be that easy today.

"I really don't understand why you are doing this. I hardly understand anything you are doing lately." Her words confirm his assumption. She goes from deep sadness to barely suppressed anger in two sentences, and Cal doesn't need to be an expert to see it all in her face. This time, she isn't his blind spot because she doesn't make the slightest effort to hide her emotions. That bad, he thinks, and a response starts to build in his throat that feels like an explanation, like the only thing to say that may be able to fix this.

"Maybe you didn't try hard enough," the words are out before he can think it over.

Gillian stares at him, obviously recognizing the words she said to him in an instant. Neither of them moves; they both remain frozen on the spot, and Cal realizes that these words are closer to the truth than anything he said to her regarding their relationship during the last weeks, perhaps even months. He might have missed his chance to get near her when she was on the rebound, but she should have known why he behaved the way he did and still does. She is the reputable voice expert and psychologist after all.

He detects a flicker of insight in her eyes before she shuts down and shuts him out in the process, masking her feelings, becoming his blind spot again. Her actions, though, give away that she is highly aware something is going on, something other and more, much more, than their usual banter.

She takes a step back, and he lets her, doesn't make an effort to follow her to stay in her personal space. He is sensible of the fact that his physical presence nearly intimidates her when they are not on good terms, and he wants her to be able to think clearly.

"Now, what does that mean?" Gillian hisses. She could be only faking her anger, or it could be real. She could have realized what his words mean, or she could have missed it. Cal doesn't know, curses once more that he can't read her when he needs do to it the most.

However, her reaction made it abundantly clear that her patience is about to run out. Therefore, he has to make a choice. Now. While she is studying his face. If he says nothing, she will leave his office, and the chance will be gone. If he says something... He doesn't even dare to speculate about possible consequences. Yes, he is an intelligent, eloquent scientist. Still, his brain goes blank when it comes to this scenario.

So, there has to be a way to tell her without actually telling her. A backdoor in case his plan backfires so that he can deny everything and annoy her with cat and mouse quotes for the rest of their lives because even if he can't have her in the worst possible way, he wants to keep her as a friend, needs to. Period.

Cal steps closer, and she doesn't back off. He can feel the heat radiating off her body. Somehow, it has always been like this. He has always been drawn to her, aware that he would get burned if he came too close. Then again, isn't he supposed to be the one of them who takes a risk?

He makes eye contact and holds her gaze so that there is no distraction, no micro expression to observe, no nothing. Cal wants Gillian to concentrate solely on his voice.

I'm so sorry for pushing you away, for anything I've done. Please forgive me. If there is a second chance, I'm in. Bloody hell, I'm definitely in. If you let me. These are the words that are in his head, the words he wants her to hear without having to say them, and perhaps, some more. The most dangerous words one person can say to another. Three words that change everything.

And even if he doesn't dare to speak his mind aloud, backdoor plan and all, he knows now what he can say to make her understand. Well, at least, he hopes so. They are standing so close that his breath tenderly brushes her face when he finally talks.

One word. Four letters. Her name. "Gill..."

Save that he says it in a way she has never heard before. Never.

And with this one word, it is all falling into place. Everything he never dared to tell her and still hesitates to phrase, including the three most dangerous words. Everything. It should be impossible for him to imply all this in one word, let alone for her to understand it. Yet, he did, and she understands.

She is the voice expert, after all.


Phew! I'm so nervous and want to get to know what you think.

Did you like the story? Did I manage to stay in character?

I'd really appreciate it if you left a review. Thank you.