AN: I would just like to reiterate that this is Part 7 and there are obviously earlier episodes before this one. You don't have to read them but it would probably help with understanding their past events.

PJ

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her glance upwards, away from her work, to the corridor outside of her office. Cal. Her stomach tightened, just a little, but still enough for her to notice it. Still enough for her heart to also flutter a little. Still enough for her to hold her breathe on seeing him, even though she saw him that morning when they woke up, and in the shower, and for breakfast, and he had only stepped out just now for about an hour. And she had also watched him leave. Yeah. Still.

'Tell him.'

Gillian sighed. She sat motionless and watched Cal head to his office, Reynolds in tow; two excited boys playing a game. She would tell him after the case was over, she reminded herself. Not before. Because Cal's brain injury meant he really could only focus on one big thing at a time and it wasn't like a week was going to make a difference to her news. And then once the case was over she would have Cal all to herself. He could focus on her. He was going to want to. He wouldn't want to be distracted in the middle of the elaborate and careful mess he was making. But that smile, the way he grinned as he strode along, bandied leg confidence back, it made her feel...

Gillian got up from her desk, compelled. She could hear the two men talking before she even rounded Cal's office door. But it wasn't jovial and mocking, it was a serious discussion. They were sitting on Cal's couch, leaning over the low table in front of them; Cal was signing papers. He glanced up as she came in, gave her a smile. "Hi darlin'."

"How'd it go?" Gillian asked. Ben greeted her as she crossed in front of them to perch on the armchair perpendicular, and she returned it politely.

"Great," Cal enthused.

Gillian turned her attention to Ben, who glanced at Cal, and when it seemed as though the facial expression expert wasn't going to elaborate, answered instead, "We arrested Rader for accessory."

Gillian raised an eyebrow, not sure if she was surprised or not. From what she had heard, perhaps not. "What charges specifically?"

"All of them," Cal cut in. He had clearly finished with scrawling his signature. Reynolds reached for the document and folded all the pages back into place before bending it in half lengthwise tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"All of them?" Gillian repeated. The drug trafficking? The human smuggling. Weapons distributions. Money laundering. Surely not.

"Yeah," Cal continued to look up at her. He absently gave his pen back to Reynolds. "All of them." He gave her a very pointed expression and it said everything from 'can you believe it! to 'I'll tell you all about it later' to 'no, seriously, he got done for all of them'.

Gillian wanted to ask what he had been signing, but she knew better. Reynolds got to his feet. "Thanks for your help on this," he spoke to Cal.

Cal got up as well, that sprightly little bounce back in his movements. "Not a problem. Two birds, one stone for me," he shook the FBI agent's hand. Reynolds offered Gillian a goodbye and she pleasantly responded without moving from her perch but wanted him to hurry up and leave. She wanted to know what had happened. With Rader and with Roberts. And the Rader Firm. Cal wouldn't talk to her about it with other people around. As if Reynolds didn't already know all about what had happened...

And then after that, she was going to have to tell her husband something important, which made her feel a little nervous, but mostly she wanted to get beyond that part so she could get to the bit where she was allowed to be excited. And maybe Cal would be excited too? Maybe.

Cal walked Reynolds to the door and closed it behind him. He turned back to Gillian with a grin. "Are you gloating?" She asked him softly.

"Me!" He feigned offence as he approached again.

"Your nemesis is taken down in spectacular fashion, brought about by your own hand, and there isn't the least bit of gloating in there?" Gillian pushed gently.

Cal headed to where she was still perching and pulled her to sit next to him on the couch. He looked her in the eye, hand still gripping hers. "Am I glad that dickhead finally, finally, got what was comin' him? Yes. Am I a little bit thrilled that I helped? Uh huh," he nodded like Lewis did, all wide eyes and seriousness. "Am I stoked his life has been destroyed and he's facin' some very serious charges? Not particularly. I would prefer it if we'd just had a showdown where he finally bowed down and acknowledged that I'm the king and he's neva gonna topple me." He gave her a cute smile and she laughed slightly despite herself. This was the old Cal back; the pre-head injury Cal and god, it felt so good to see him again. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and got serious again. "Now, Roberts," he went on. "He got swept up with Rader, seein' as those two were thick as thieves and all. And Reynolds thinks he can make those corporate theft charges stick with the evidence you already put togetha."

Gillian nodded. At least she had one thing less to worry about with being able to pass off their work 'problem' to Cal to deal with. Roberts had been stealing from them. Before he left, while he was still under Lightman Group employment, he had slipped client information to Rader, who had approached him with the intention of cultivating a spy. When Roberts had quit, before Gillian could sack him for being incompetent, he had walked out with a few of their exclusive FACS manuals. He had property with 'The Lightman Group' stamped on it still in his possession. Not entirely smart. Roberts was already in trouble back then. He had gotten himself mixed up with the head of a gang. He had borrowed money from them, initially, and then got sucked in deeper and deeper, unable to find his way out. The funny thing is, if he had asked for help, Cal might have been inclined to actually give it. If that was possible.

"So they're probably lookin' at the same amount of jail time in the end."

Why did she not feel good about that?

PJ

Lewis let himself out of his car seat and popped open the door, climbing out awkwardly before turning to reach for his bag. Gillian watched him as she slammed her door shut. Sometimes, he just made her smile. Her baby boy. They headed inside, turning on lights as they went. It was mid September; the days were getting noticeably shorter; worse when it was cloudy like today. It wasn't like it was black outside but it was dark enough inside to remind her that winter was fast approaching. Gillian kicked her shoes off by the stairs. Yesterday's shoes were still there too but she had been too tired last night to pick them up. Lewis mimicked her, laughing as his shoes went flying and she half heartedly reprimanded him when one left a mark on the wall. She wasn't exactly setting a good example and she would get that later. She compromised by telling him to be careful.

They went to the kitchen, dumping their bags. Gillian reminded Lewis to take his lunch box out for the morning, and his drink bottle, and he did so, putting them on the bench, then asked to watch TV. She agreed. And then, what was she going to do for dinner? She was really tired, wasted, no energy. She did have lunch right? She did. She remembered eating in the lab with Ria while they went over a case together. So? Maybe she needed an afternoon pick-me-up, more like late-evening, ok, pre-dinner snack. She reached for two fruit cups; one for her, one for Lewis and sat with him on the couch while she ate it. Lewis spooned his into his mouth absently, absorbed by the screen. Gillian tried to figure out what they were watching. There was Japanese animation and weird creatures, animals? That could talk and were in the throes of personification. Superheroes? Monsters?

Gillian checked the time. She really needed to start dinner or they would be eating so late. And yet she so couldn't be bothered. She gave Lewis a nudge with her elbow. "Pizza for dinner?" She finger spelled 'pizza' by using a double 'Z' movement and 'eat'.

"Oh yes!" Lewis nodded enthusiastically.

"Kay," Gillian gave his knee a squeeze as she got up off the couch. She rang the order through, two large, and had them deliver. Then she headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable and casual. No, her shoes would survive another night there by the stairs. Back on the ground floor, she checked her phone for messages from Cal. She had left him at work when she had gone to pick Lewis up from Kate's. Cal said he had one more thing he wanted to finish up. He complained about not being able to drive still. Gillian thought it would be an entirely good thing when he got his license back. Not just so she didn't have to run around after him, not that she minded that really, but so he could take another step towards 'normal' towards 'healed', towards gaining himself back. According to Maryland driving law, he needed to be seizure free for three months and he needed his doctor to sign off on the medical. It had been four months since the accident but Rockwell had insisted the counter start from the day Cal had gone home. Which meant he still had fifty-five days left to go. She wasn't sure which of them was counting.

There were no messages from Cal, but she did hear the front door and so stuck her head around the corner of the kitchen door to make sure that was her husband coming in. Yeah, those suits really did fit him so much nicer now that he worked out. "Oi you," Cal called lightly as he noticed her. When he reached where she was standing, he took her hand and gently pulled her into the hallway. He turned her so her back was against the wall. Gillian started to ask what he was doing when he pressed himself in close against her. She no longer had a doubt exactly what he was doing.

He pressed his lips against hers, a warm firm kiss that made her stomach clench up in delight and which quickly became heated as his fingers started exploring the skin under her shirt and his tongue dared to start exploring her mouth. Heat flooded through Gillian and rational thought escaped her. All she could focus on was her husband. And that little voice that insisted she tell him; the case was over now. She would tell him. Right after Lewis had gone to bed. She was going to sit him down and...

The door bell rang. "Hm?" Cal queried in his throat as he let his mouth sweep hers one more time.

"Dinner," Gillian explained breathlessly.

"You betta get that then," Cal pulled away and Gillian gave a slight shiver with the absence of his body heat. He gave her a grin. Gillian shoved him back further so she could straighten up from the wall. She asked him to get money from her purse in the kitchen and he gave a nonchalant reply that he could before sauntering away. He enjoyed that too much.

Gillian answered the door before the delivery person started to think they were ignoring them. "Hey, I got two large, pepperoni, one with olive," the guy gestured the boxes towards her and she took them. He told her the price just as Cal arrived with cash. He handed it over, told the guy to keep the change and was given an enthusiastic 'thank you' before Gillian pushed the door closed again with her elbow.

Cal turned to her with another grin. He loved how easily he could distract her. "Don't. Even. Start," she shot at him, brushing past and heading down the hallway.

Cal fell in step behind her. "You changed," he noted surprised. "I liked what you were wearin' at the office."

Gillian shot him a smirk over her shoulder as they walked; what she wore to the office was slightly more fitting to her figure. "Lewis!" She called. "Dinner." He didn't react. Cal reached over the back of the couch to grasp his shoulder and Lewis turned startled. Gillian listened as he enthusiastically greeted his father and then stood on the couch to wrap his arms around Cal's neck. He lifted the boy to his waist and carried him to the table, where Gillian was laying out plates. Lewis wanted to sit in Cal's lap while they ate, but he refused.

"You're a big boy, you sit in your chair," Cal told him, prying Lewis's hands off of him to step away from the kid's chair.

Lewis, standing on his seat, reached over for the boxes and pried back the lid. "The meat one," he noted. "Mum what's that one?" He pointed to the other. Probably weighing up his options.

"Olives," Gillian called from the kitchen where she was getting paper napkins.

"What?" Lewis turned to Cal.

"Pardon," he corrected, brushing the flat open fingers of his right hand over those of his left hand.

"Pardon," Lewis repeated.

"Olives," Cal informed him.

"Yucky," Lewis screwed up his nose.

"Yummy!" Cal told him with a laugh. He let Lewis grab a slice of the pepperoni, then slid the box to the side so he and Gillian could get to the one with olives. "So I've been thinkin'," Cal started.

"About what?" Gillian asked absently, taking her seat.

"My memories."

Gillian looked up surprised. "What about them?" She asked warily. She didn't mean to be cautious but that was how she felt. That was simply how it was.

"I want them back," Cal told her pointedly, his blue eyes boring into hers.

Gillian wasn't sure what to say to that. Lewis looked up, noticing the silence, his gaze drifting between his parents. "Can we not talk about that right now?" Gillian requested, giving a gesture with her eyes towards Lewis when he happened to not be looking at her. She meant 'later' when they were alone.

"All right," Cal agreed taking a bite of his pizza. He gave Lewis a nudge with his knee. "How was your day?"

Lewis, who was in the process of picking the pepperoni off his pizza to eat separately, one at a time, launched into a tale, full of vague gestures and half signed words, about what he had got up to that day.

Gillian made a 'W' hand and tapped it against her mouth, looking at Cal and pointing at him while Lewis talked. Cal glanced at her and nodded. Gillian went to the fridge to get a family sized bottle of water. Her fingers brushed over the two bouquets of flowers Cal and Lewis had drawn for her several weeks ago now, and her mind drifted back to the obscene ache his lack of memory brought out in her. She tried so hard to shut it down, to let it go, to work through it. But the truth was, she wanted his memories back too.