I came across this show a couple of months ago and fell in love with these two characters. Long story short, this plus my borderline obsessive need for closure resulted in a fic that just had to be written.
A reader's opinion is always appreciated.
Oh, and I apologize for the language, but this chapter is from Cal's POV after all. ;)
"Gillian. Do you love her?"
"Of course I do, darlin'. Of course I love her."
"No, I mean… really love her."
"Yeah."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
The proverbial "right time" had long come and gone. And now… well, he had fucked up so much over the last few months there was no way in hell she would even entertain the possibility of something more than friendship between them.
Her walls were up and high, and not just to keep him from getting too close to personal things she'd rather not share, but to keep him from getting too close period.
He had pushed too hard and the invisible string that held them together had broken, leaving them close but no longer connected. Sure, the smiles were there. The playful banter. But they were now a conscious, careful effort instead of their natural synchronicity.
He had thought that was gone for good. And then Claire had died. And then she had called him. Not only because his skills would be useful to help catch the killer, but because whether she wanted it or not, he was still the one she trusted to hold her and keep her from falling apart.
"And then I called you."
It was there in her voice and on her face.
And as he recalled that moment, he pondered that her friend's death had put a crack on the wall, leaving him with two choices: break his way through it and repair the damage he had done, so that maybe, maybe one day they would be ready to take the gamble of all gambles; or he could choose the easy way out and just let the chips fall where they may.
Gambling analogies. That's rich, Cal.
Shit.