Ria and Lightman were out on a late night case that he wasn't on, again. What was it about him that Lightman seemed to not trust? He sat with his feet up on his desk, waiting for some sort of order from Foster who was down the hall in her office. He clicked the solitaire icon on his computer and began to play again, when he heard a small tap at his door. Without looking up or stopping his play, he responded to Foster.

"Anything?"

"Nothing, no one seems to have a mystery they need solved or a lie they need brought to truth."

"Anything from Torres or Lightman?"

"No, and don't sound so disgusted when you say Cal's name, you know he just wants her to get experience."

He smiled slightly at her catching his emotion. "So there's nothing for us to do."

"Nothing productive anyway…" She trailed off in thought. He had known that she didn't mean anything by what she has said, but it had sounded as though she had been insinuating something. "Where's your guitar?" He snapped back into consciousness and pointed. Realizing she wanted him to play it, he got up and got it.

"What should I play?"

"Something soothing, please. All this waiting is irritating me."

"You're irritated, no."

"I'm not irritated that often, Loker." She said laughing and rubbing his shoulder in response. Again he felt like it was something more than it probably was. Before he could play they heard her office phone ring. "I'm sure that's Cal. No one else would be calling this late." She stood up and walked to her office briskly so to not miss her call. He took in a deep breath to calm his nerves; he was oddly aroused. He figured the combination of the lateness and the boredom was playing its toll, but he didn't want to make things awkward. He plucked his guitar quietly to get his mind off things while Gillian was on the phone. A few minutes later, he regained his mind and smiled to Gillian as she walked back in the room. "They don't need us on this one, or well, right now anyway." She checked her watch. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, like five hours ago."

"Do you want to grab some food somewhere?"

"At 12:30 in the morning?" Loker asked sarcastically, fiddling with his small blue pick. She smiled at him in annoyance (he picked up) and looked away quickly.

"I have Chinese leftovers and my house is ten minutes away. Better?" She said leaving his office.

He got up and grabbed his things. He decided maybe there was a little something. "Much." He said to her as they left the office.

A little while later they were both escaping the December cold that lingered in the air in Washington DC. They briskly walked directly into the kitchen, and Gillian grabbed the few Chinese to-go boxes and offered them to Loker. "Hot or cold?"

"Leftover Chinese is only good cold, Foster."

She nodded and smiled in approval. "Just checking Loker, some people aren't as smart when it comes to leftovers." She sat down across from Loker at the small two seated dining table. "Lo Mein or Dumplings?"

He reached across her and grabbed a random box. He caught a whiff of her perfume and had to concentrate on the box he was pulling back to him. He opened it and smoothly replied, "Lo Mein." They paused awkwardly staring at each other momentarily, until she stood up hastily and grabbed to glasses and some scotch from a cupboard. She poured them each a small amount. He nodded in thanks and took a small sip.

"Loker." She paused waiting for his attention. He looked over slowly, and she focused in on his eyes. "Why are your pupils so… dilated?" She hesitated, unsure if she wanted an answer.

He took another swig of the scotch she had presented him with. "It's late." She saw his shoulder shrug, and he knew it had. She didn't break her stare. "Because Gillian," he paused "You're not married anymore."