The Perfect Pairing
Actually wrote this one a while back, but just now finished it. References Sweet Sixteen. Always wondered what else Foster was hiding. Since it's mostly complete (not sure I ever really feel these stories are done) wanted to share it.
Please let me know what you think! Your words and kindness are invaluable.
I do not own Lie to Me, the characters, dialogue, or events in the episodes.
"I'm not happy Cal."
The sound of her voice echoed through the room. He felt his heart constrict at her words. Gillian hugged herself in a gesture of self-comfort. Sighing, she continued. "I haven't been happy for… a while."
"Take some time off luv, whatever you need, you know…"
She cut him off, "that's not what I mean. It's … It's not enough just to go away. That won't fix this. It's bigger than some time off. I need to change."
The silence resonated in the darkened room seeming to swallow them both up. His heart was beating hard against his chest. What did she mean? Had he finally mucked it up beyond all repair? Was she … Could she … Leave him? His stomach dropped and the color drained from his face. He was grateful the shadows hid the emotions running rampant on his face and that she was facing the window, turned away from him. It was his only solace. She couldn't read him even when he was showing so much.
He wasn't sure how they had gotten here, to this point. He knew things had been rough for her since Claire's death. She had shut down and withdrawn from all of them, from him. But it had caused the opposite reaction in him. It drew him to her. The more she pulled away, the more he clung to her. That's what had led him to seek her out, tracking her here. He never expected her to open up like this after being so closed off. Gillian always played her emotional cards close, he knew that. For her to be so direct, well it scared the shit out of him.
He stared at her silhouette illuminated by the evening lights coming through the large glass window. He was waiting for her to speak to fill the unsettling void that surrounded them.
"I've been so… angry since losing Claire...that way… I couldn't save her, Cal… I failed her."
"Now 'ang on Luv…" Cal tried to interrupt but Gillian continued as if she hadn't heard him.
"I failed her, I failed my father, I failed Alec, I failed Dave, I … I even failed Sophie…"
"Nah Gill nah you haven't failed anyone, if anything you father, Alec, Dave… they failed you luv. The whole lot of 'em. And Sophie was just shite luck. If anyone deserved a kid it's you luv. It's bonkers it is."
"Cal, I know you mean well, I do, but I'm the constant in the equation. I couldn't save any of them. Not one. And I know I'm failing at the only thing I have left…" Gillian swiped at her eyes. "I can't seem to save anyone else, and the psychologist in me knows I never could, but…it doesn't mean the emotional side agrees always... but I… I can change myself and I can… I … I will do everything in my power to save… to fix this… To fix … Us." She waved her hand between them. "I know we are on the rocks and we have been for … No Cal, no, let me say this… You know it's true." She read his face seeing that he agreed even if he wanted to disagree to comfort her. He wanted to make this right. She was shouldering all the blame and he knew she shouldn't. He was the fuck up. He was about to argue with her when she surprised him yet again.
"In your book, you first book that is, you discuss the relationship between the importance of the lie and the amount of energy expended to maintain it." He nodded though she couldn't see him. His fragile state causing him to grab onto something he could process as tangible. "The more it matters to you that the lie be accepted, the harder it is to lie about anything else. All of your focus and energy must go to maintaining that one important lie." Her hands gestured as she spoke emphasizing her words.
Turning towards him but not looking at him she continued. "Did you ever wonder why it was so easy for you to read me yet how I was your blind spot? It's because you never had a baseline for me, Cal. Because…" She paused and took a deep breath before finally meeting his eyes. "Our relationship was founded on a lie."
She hugged herself again looking back out the window. "And because all of my energy went to maintaining that one lie, I couldn't expend any more on any other lies. I instituted the line for self-preservation. I knew, because of that one big important lie, that I'd never be able to lie to you about anything else. No "I'm fine," would pass your notice. No "sure I'd be happy to," would be allowed. There would be no ability to fabricate anything, not for my comfort or yours. I would be an open book to you… And, I knew that. I knew you'd be able to read everything else on my face. And... And I hoped that the line, that the stupid line, would give me some comfort, allow me some semblance of protection, some iota of privacy. Because I knew with you I would be completely and utterly vulnerable. I put my entire truth at your mercy. I was open to you in ways I wasn't open to anyone. Not my family, not Alec, not Dave, not Eli, Ria or Ben… Not even myself."
She sighed dropping her hands to her sides. "When you asked me to come work with you, to be your partner, I knew I would have to trust you with knowing my deepest thoughts and feelings and … and I accepted that. It was my punishment, my penance…"
"Luv..." He started to protest.
"No Cal." She held her hand up to him in a gesture of stop. "Please let me finish. I … I don't know that I can start again. I just… I need to … to tell you … I…"
She leaned her other hand and her head against the cold glass. The city lights outside were a blur behind her tears. She shuddered once then choked back a sob. Taking a shaky breath she continued surprising herself with the strength in her voice.
"I knew how important the truth was to you. I did my research on you, you know." He heard the smile in her voice. "I knew you would stop at nothing to pursue the truth. Your colleagues, supervisors, everyone said the same thing. I knew Cal. I knew… And I was a psychologist. Your psychologist. A relationship must be built on trust, it needs to be built with a foundation of honesty, especially a therapeutic relationship. I knew that. I… I know that. And I know how important the truth is… was… is to you. How much you cling to the need for that honesty and how you will pursue it towards your undoing if that's what it takes. I knew that. That's what made the betrayal so much worse." She paused wiping at her eyes.
"Our relationship was built on a lie. And it was my fault." Gillian turned from the window. The tear lines on her cheeks matched the lines of rain rolling down the glass behind her. It struck him as oddly quiet. Both lines of water had made no sound but simply appeared. Her blue eyes caught his as she raised them from her view of the floor.
"There has been nothing in my life for which I have felt more sorry than lying to you. Not my father. Not my divorce. Not lying for you. Not to Ria about Dupree or to Internal Affairs about Wallowski. Nothing."
Cal felt his own heart stop at the mention of the cop but Gillian failed to notice. The avalanche of truth was pouring forth from her heart and nothing could stop it.
"I know you, the team, you think I'm naïve. How could a lie detection expert not see her own husband's lies? But even if that were possible, how could I, with my vocal training, not hear his lies? Right? Right." She whispered the last word as if agreeing with herself.
Cal fought to control his tongue. He wanted to say something in response. Attempt to disagree or deflect but her earlier pleading still echoed in his ears. As if she heard his thoughts, her hand, that had earlier made the stop gesture, rose a foot higher as if to further confirm he should stay silent. Frustrated, he chewed his lower lip.
"The thing is, I knew Cal. I knew everything. All of it. Every time Alec used. Every time he was with her. Every time he lied. I knew he lied. I knew he was a liar." She paused and lifted her head toward the window again. Tightening her jaw in a look of fierce determination she turned to him and met his eyes. "But so was I. So am I. I'm a liar."
Before his mind could even begin to formulate a protest, she continued. "How could I fault him Cal? For being the same as me. How could I hide from my own culpability but accuse him of his? I never owned up to my lie why should I force him to? I was just as bad as he was, if not worse. He knew I should read him, call him out. He knew I would know he was lying, which in a warped way is like a confession isn't it? But with me it was different. It was so much worse. I knew you didn't know I had lied, and the longer our relationship continued the worse I felt. Deep down I think for a while I believed that I deserved what Alec did to me. That it was my karma for having lied, for continuing to lie, to you."
"Now hang on luv. Yes, you lied, but your reasons were … honorable. You wanted to protect me and Zoe and Em…" but he stopped when he saw her face, reading her hesitation and he fear and her … guilt. "There's more." He whispered. "There's more you 'aven't told me."
Her shuddered breath was his confirmation. He was stunned. But not completely. He registered somewhere in the back of his mind, a memory, their conversation that night after Doyle's visit.
"So were you ever gonna tell me?" He asked her, the hurt evident in his tone and on his face.
Gillian walked away from him, fighting back tears. Sighing heavily as she looked at him, she finally began to speak. "He came to me. In the middle of the night. Before our first session. Not to my office, to my house. My HOUSE." The violation emphatic in her voice. Unable to look at him or stop the tears filling her eyes she continued, "I.. I.. I'd never seen him before and I... I never saw him again."
She kept glancing to the sides. He remembered that now, her furtive eye movements a tell.
"He told me to do what I had to do to keep you quiet. Or Doyle wouldn't be the only man to lose his wife and daughter." Gillian continued.
Cal remembered walking around the desk to stand in front of her. He had needed to be close to her, even when his trust in her was exploding all around him and the pedestal he had set her on came crashing to the ground.
"If I told you that," she emphasized with her hands, pleading with him, pulling at the part of him that loved her, even as her dishonesty broke him.
Her eyes begged forgiveness even as her mouth destroyed his faith in her. "It would have been proof positive of a cover up and you would have never let go." He had stared her down. In response to the argument in his eyes, she had walked toward him. "So," stopping she shook her head no, "I couldn't let you do that." He remembered her eyes and the tears in them as she looked at him briefly. "To you, your family, you'd never have gotten to blow the whistle, he would have cut you down before you put it to your lips." That revelation made it so hard for her to look at him while making it impossible for him to look away.
The hurt and anger poured out of him in response. "So all that … talk…" His heart thumped remembering how she had looked up at him, the pain and rage in his voice forcing her to meet his gaze. "About you being a bad liar, it's just an act. That's a LIE."
She hadn't denied it, instead she whispered, "Depends on the lie."
He watched her heart break.
His body took over and he had pulled her into a hug. It was instinctual and necessary and she had clung to him desperately, sighing. But in that moment his mind couldn't distinguish the Gillian he loved from the Gillian who had hurt him.
In the seconds it took for the memory to play out in his mind, she took his hand and led him to the couch. Sitting facing each other a mountain of distance occupied the cushion between them.
"There's so much I need to tell you, Cal. I can't continue like this. I can't keep this to myself anymore." She was wringing her hands together in her lap. He couldn't help but stare at them for a moment before looking at her face. She looked shattered, as if she'd break into a million pieces in front of him.
Instinctively, he reached for her hand and took it in his giving it a squeeze of reassurance. She looked at her hand in his and all her movements froze. A soft strangled sound escaped her lips and her eyes frantically sought his. His firm gaze stared back. She was both a stranger to him and everything he knew.
That part of him that belonged to her took control. "I'm all ears luv."
She exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding. Looked again at their hands and then nodded to herself in assurance. "That day Doyle came back," he nodded to her to continue. "When you left, after Prosser called Finch, I … went back into the room with Prosser. You know to wrap things up, but… He… he Told me… He … asked me, he asked me if I knew why they chose me to evaluate you."
"He was goading you."
She looked at him. "Yes. He was."
"And?"
"And it worked."
Gillian listened as Prosser called Finch and set up a meeting. The stadium again. She heard the dial tone on her cell signaling Doyle had disconnected after Prosser hung up. She watched as Cal rose and exited the room having no further use for the occupants. She followed him to the front door but he never turned nor engaged her. She knew she was dismissed. Watching him exit the building the sound of the door swinging shut behind him felt like it had been slammed in her face. Once again left to clean up the mess, but for once she felt responsible for making it.
Taking a breath she steeled herself and put her business face back on. With her head held high she stepped back into the role of Dr. Foster, partner with the Lightman group. She had learned long ago that if the outward façade looked the part then most people ignored what went on behind the scenes. Obviously not the naturals but the majority of the population wouldn't look at her twice.
She returned to the cube area, speaking briefly to DNI Mercier before having Torres and Loker escort him out, promising to retain Prosser until he returned with his agents. Upon reentering the cube to retrieve their belongings Prosser, so reticent before, now attempted to engage her in conversation. Apparently, having opened up about his past he was enjoying the rush and power of disclosure. "You know, it's amazing how right we were. I had thought it would work between you two, for our purposes of course, but never in a million years would I have imagined the two of you would still be together seven years later."
"Cal and I met at a time where we were ready to move on from our roles at the Pentagon. Obviously, that relationship has been successful for us both." As she spoke she gathered up their belongings without acknowledging him with eye contact. She knew he was baiting her. "As Cal mentioned before he has his answers, he knows you lied about Doyle. As far as we are concerned any further conversation is unnecessary. You can sit here on your own and wait for the agents to come and retrieve you." With that she gathered up their equipment, squared her shoulders and strode toward the door.
After she punched in the code she grabbed the handle to the door intending to leave, but he stopped her in her tracks. "Cal may have his answers but do you Gillian?"
"What could you possibly have to share with me?" She asked not even bothering to turn around.
"Don't you want to know why we chose you? Why, out of all those at the Pentagon who could have assessed the Dr. Cal Lightman," he emphasized each portion of Lightman's name, "why would we choose a young, wet behind the ears, female psychologist, who up to that point had never been asked to assess someone remotely near his clearance level?"
She paused. She knew he was baiting her, knew she should keep walking, but he had touched an insecure nerve and peaked her curiosity.
"Are you sure you don't have a question for me, Doctor Foster?"
She gripped the door handle and walked out of the cube, placing the equipment she had been carrying on the table. She then reached over and engaged the cube's white out wall feature before letting out an exasperated sound. Steeling herself she reentered the cube, walked over to Prosser, who flashed momentary surprise at her return. "Alright Mr. Prosser, the floor is yours. Why did you choose me?"
Prosser took a moment to realize he had in fact won with his goading. But before the smug smile could spread across his face she stopped him. "You have less than ten minutes, Mr. Prosser before the agents arrive. I'd factor that in to your response."
Prosser's grin faded into a sneer of contempt and then a neutral face of acceptance. Tilting his head he narrowed his eyes at her. She stared back at him.
"You have very blue eyes Doctor Foster." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And freckles. You have quite a few freckles."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Why would blue eyes and freckles matter in their decision to have her evaluate Cal?
"Do you know who else had blue eyes and freckles Doctor Foster?" Gillian eyed him warily her mind racing with his question. Why would it matter if someone else had blue eyes and freckles? Prosser watched her with interest as she pondered his question. He was obviously suggesting she shared these traits with someone in Cal's life. Someone important.
"What….?" She started to question him but something on his face brought about a realization. There was only one person who he could be referring to; one person who they would have considered would impact Cal. As understanding dawned on her, she didn't even notice the triumph flashing across his face.
"Doctor Lightman was reckless. Constantly throwing himself into danger at every opportunity. His search for the truth, the why, all encompassing." Prosser could tell she was listening even if her mind was still coming to grips with what he had implied about Cal's mother. "You know all of this Dr. Foster. It was in the file provided to you as part of Dr. Lightman's evaluation. Along with the analysis of the root cause of his obsessive, compulsive, impulsive tendencies." Prosser paused for effect, Gillian glared at him. "His mother's suicide."
Prosser continued with pride. "Dr. Lightman was particularly moved by suicide cases. Part of his work focuses specifically in that area. That was common knowledge and something we considered in choosing his evaluator." Prosser's mouth twitched up in a smirk before he continued. "He also was quite fond of the ladies." Gillian's mouth pursed even more and rose up on the side in contempt at Prosser. "Seemed far more likely that he would open up to a female therapist rather than a male who might challenge his ego."
Gillian continued to glare at him knowing what was coming even before he said it. "Imagine how fortuitous it was for us to find a young female psychologist eager to prove herself and even better she resembles Doctor Lightman's dear departed mum." Prosser leant forward with this bit of information. "Lightman is sure to open up to her. How could he not? He never got to ask his mother why she did it. No motherly trust. So who better to pair him with than someone who will trigger that little boy's need? How could it get any better?"
"But it does. It gets better. Because we come to discover that you Gillian, well you have your own … history." Prosser leans back in his chair smiling nastily at Gillian. Her hands curled up into fists under the table and a muscle in her cheek twitched in hostility as he continued. "An alcoholic father; a genius prone to his own obsessive, compulsive, and reckless behaviors. A distant mother too caught up in enabling and covering for her alcohol addicted husband to care about her only daughter. You never had any contact with them. Why is it that Dr. Gillian Foster, who by all accounts of those who know her is one of the most affectionate and caring individuals, has had no contact with her parents since leaving the nest? And upon leaving the nest you decide to become a psychologist. Why does anyone become a psychologist if not to help people? And who better for you to help, then an obsessive, reckless man who could be putting his own family in danger?" Prosser grinned openly at her crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back against his hands. "We couldn't have asked for a more perfect pairing."
Gillian glared at Prosser weighing her reaction internally. So many thoughts were running through her head. "You used our histories against us. You set both of us up to get what you wanted."
"We needed Lightman to drop the investigation. With his history of seeking the truth despite the costs, we had to find a way to stop him. Our best strategy was you, Gillian."
"You used me. You sent Finch to my house to threaten me and to threaten Cal so that I would convince him of the risk to his family."
"Finch employed his own tactics. My role was simply to find the best evaluator. The one most likely to reach Cal Lightman. I have to say I'm impressed by how right I was in my choice." Prosser continued to goad her. "Tell me Gillian, how have you managed to mother Cal Lightman for this long? I mean what is it, seven, eight years now? Have you had more success with him than with your father?" The vitriol oozed off of his words.
Gillian hated him in that moment. She wanted nothing more than to lash out at him, but sounds from outside the cube signaled the agents' arrival. Prosser's proud look vanished into one of fear. Gillian composed her face before standing and smoothing down her clothing. Looking at Prosser with a blank stare, though internally she was still seething, she managed to keep her voice calm before finally addressing him. "Sounds like your ride is here." Internally she triumphed at the cracks now evident in his previously pompous demeanor.
Turning from him she strode purposefully to the door. Before pushing it open, she turned one last time to address him. "Mr. Prosser, you may think you won all those years ago. That you were able to coerce and convince Cal Lightman through me to drop the truth. But you were wrong. Cal never knew about your plan. He never knew about Finch. You may think you had us figured out. But you had absolutely no idea." She opened the door and stepped out throwing one last barb over her shoulder. "As for Lightman finding the truth at all costs; it looks like he won this round."
With that she left the cube letting the door slam closed behind her.
Gillian told Cal everything about their interaction, though it pained her to do so. In an odd way she was like Prosser; once started the avalanche of truth took her with it. No more lies.
"So you're telling me that they set us up luv? That they played on our childhood insecurities and gambled on it paying off?" Cal had sat with his forehead crinkled, chewing on the inside of his cheek, as she told him the story of her interaction with Prosser.
"Yes." She nodded looking at her lap.
"They wanted me to bond with you, thinking you'd remind me of my mum?"
She couldn't even reply just nodded again pulling her lips in between her teeth.
He paused digesting this but spotted the edge of her lip raise and her eyebrow drop. "Something confusing luv?"
"It's just… Prosser was so focused on my blue eyes. I never understood that, I mean in the video your mother didn't look like…"
Cal cut Gillian off before she could continue. "Yeah, well my mum when she was younger, she, well yeah she did look sort of like you luv. I mean, never noticed it before now, but I can see where Prosser came up with it. She was blonde, with freckles and big blue eyes." Gillian's expression softened as she watched him recall his mother, it was so rare he spoke about her. "Later, after years with my dad's abuse and the meds they had her on, well the side effects and the trauma caused her eyes to darken. Then she dyed her hair dark, I think to call less attention to herself. Didn't help mind you, but there it is."
Gillian nodded. It was clear that the pain of watching his mother deteriorate and withdraw still weighed heavily on him. She didn't know what to say. Appreciating his openness with her, given everything she was sharing now, she decided to return the favor. "I remember my father aging before my eyes. The alcohol just drained his vitality from him. It got to where I didn't recognize him anymore."
Cal watched her, tilting his head to the side. His face revealed nothing of what he was feeling. "And they believed, that because of what happened with your dad, you'd want to help me? That you'd be afraid for my family? For what might happen to them? That you would want to protect all of us, so you'd convince me to lie, to accept their cover-up?"
This time she paused before slowly nodding.
"Finch was meant to threaten you into convincing me to let go the bloody investigation?" Cal's anger was apparent in her voice but it wasn't clear if he was directing that anger toward her.
Lifting her head she looked at him. "The night Finch came to my house. He… he showed me photographs of Emily with you and Zoe."
Cal sat forward entering into her personal space. "Tell me everything luv."
Taking a deep breath she nodded at him. Exhaling slowly, she brought back that painful memory.
Gillian Foster hummed to herself as she washed the dishes. She had been so bubbly at dinner she almost felt badly for Alec. If she wasn't so excited that was. She had rambled on and on about the fact that she had been chosen to do an evaluation of an individual with very high clearance. Confidentiality prevented her from sharing the details, but she could still discuss how she had been researching the subject and was really prepared and eager to handle this new challenge. She shared her belief that her superiors were acknowledging her good work of late with this request. It was a chance to prove how valuable she could be to the Pentagon.
Alec had feigned interest, telling her he was proud of her. His office had been super busy of late though and she could tell he was mostly checked out. Feeling for him, she had sent him upstairs to watch some television or sleep, as he so chose, while she tidied up.
Her grin almost hurt which made her giggle. Finally, she felt as if she was being acknowledged for her work. The Pentagon had been an adjustment for her, but she and Alec had agreed it would be beneficial for her to take the position, given his personal aspirations in Washington.
The cases so far had been mainly PTSD related or general counseling sessions. She had always been a very driven individual and wanted to make her mark in the position, even if it wasn't quite what she wanted to do with her life. When the email arrived from her supervisor requesting she evaluate the Cal Lightman, well she was secretly excited and saw it as an opportunity to prove herself. They were giving her a chance and she would run with it.
She had already read Dr. Lightman's book, having bought a copy when it was released. His science was fascinating and, in a way, paired well with her unique talent of voice recognition. The skeptics didn't dissuade her interest either. Many people had thought her talent for reading voices was odd too. Even before being assigned the case, she felt a sort of kismet with the micro expression scientist and had actually been attempting to orchestrate a meeting with him to discuss his science before learning of the evaluation.
Having heard about Dr. Lightman's eccentric personality, the need for an evaluation of the man didn't surprise her that much actually. Truth be told, his reputation preceded him. She had no doubt that he would stop at nothing to disclose a cover up had one been in place. Knowing that he would keep her on her toes in the evaluation, she had reread his book and pulled some of his other publications to peruse before their meeting. Priding herself on her research, she had not just relied on his file, but had also done her own interviewing of his supervisor and colleagues. Her cheeks reddened at some of the stories she had become privy to during those discussions. Especially from the females. It was obvious Dr. Lightman had an effect on women.
Hearing a small noise behind her, she turned happily, a soapy cup in hand, to greet her husband. Her heart stopped and the smile fell from her face when her brain registered the presence of a stranger. A tall thin man, dressed all in black, held a gun pointed at her ceiling. He pressed his pointer finger to his mouth in a hushing gesture. Gillian could still hear the faint sounds of the television coming from above them. When the man looked up at the ceiling and then back at her, she got the message: be quiet or Alec could be in trouble. The soapy glass slipped from her fingers back into the water as she swallowed hard trying desperately not to look at the gun.
"Dr. Foster, you've been very busy." The intruder quietly stated as he flipped through the pages of Lightman's book. After cleaning off the dining room table, she had laid out the book and her files as she planned to do some additional preparation before her meeting with Dr. Lightman. "I can see this case has peaked your interest."
He stepped around the table closer to her and she reflexively pressed back against the counter as if to get further away from him. He pulled a manila envelope from a bag at his side. "You're not the only one with an interest in Dr. Lightman." Despite herself she felt her curiosity rise.
Slipping the end of the envelope open, he pulled out some papers, which he then revealed to her as large black and white photos. One at a time he laid them out for her. He was talking about Lightman, telling her that it was imperative he drop the accusations. Her brain went a bit fuzzy though as she watched him lay out a photo of Lightman at the Pentagon, then another at what she presumed was his home, then another, and another. He had obviously been following Dr. Lightman for some time. Each photo revealed the Doctor in more and more compromising positions. The vulnerability was emphasized each time, as he would tap the point of the gun he held against the image of Dr. Lightman's head. Her brain registered that this man was very good at what he did. The situation was bad, not only for Lightman, but for her too.
Steeling herself, she tapped into her inner strength. She would not allow the fear to win. "I don't think a threat will convince Dr. Lightman to drop the truth." She stated, amazed at how strong her voice sounded. Inside she was terrified. When he glared at her, she added, "Even a very real threat."
He eyed her warily. "I think if given the right incentive, Dr. Lightman will realize the folly of continuing his course of inquiry. Doyle is a terrorist. His wife and daughter were killed by two drug dealers. Those men have since been captured and are awaiting trial." He pulled out another set of photos from the envelope. "As I'm sure you are aware, Dr. Foster, Lightman also has a family. A wife." He laid out a photo of Dr. Lightman facing a beautiful brunette woman who was smiling coyly back at him. He dropped another photo of them in an embrace. Gillian refused to be swayed and looked back at the man as if the photos had no effect on her, when in truth her stomach was a heap of knots. Looking back at her, he raised one eyebrow.
The next photo he didn't put on the table. Instead he held it out for her to take. She didn't want to touch it but a look in his eyes and a gesture of the gun at her and she found herself reaching out slowly with shaking hands. When she lifted the image so she could see it her body ran cold. Dr. Lightman looked ecstatically happy and in his arms was a young curly haired girl around eight years old. She had a look of pure adulation and joy as she beamed up at her father.
"He also has a daughter. Same age as Doyle's girl I believe. Ironic isn't it. How much they have in common?" He sneered as he made the comment. It was easy for her to hear the implication. "It would be a shame if they were to share something else, like that terrible misfortune."
Gillian's heart dropped into her stomach. She could read the trust and the love and the absolute faith the little girl had in her father. It was all over her young face. She didn't need micro expressions or science for it. It hit a nerve with her. She remembered being young and believing in her own father that way. She also remembered losing that belief and the damage it had caused to her little heart. Gillian touched the girl's face. She couldn't let anyone hurt her.
"Don't you agree Dr. Foster?" The man stepped up next to Gillian. She was so engrossed in the photo in her hand, she didn't realize he was there until he spoke. She jumped slightly at his proximity. He reached around her and pulled the drain from the sink. Taking the photo from her, he flipped it around to look at it. "She's a beautiful girl, isn't she?"
He pulled out another photo, in this one Dr. Lightman and his wife had their backs to the camera. Each was holding the hand of the little girl, their daughter. She was looking back over her shoulder as if she knew someone was watching. He held the photo in front of her over the now drained sink. "Beautiful family." He pulled out a lighter and ignited the bottom corner of the picture. "It would be a shame if anything happened to them." He dropped the picture into the sink and stepped back. Gillian couldn't take her eyes off of the little girl's face.
"Convince him it's not worth it Dr. Foster." She heard from behind her but didn't turn. She watched the photo burn away all traces of the little girl. Only a pile of ashes were left in the sink. She blinked twice and then turned back to face the intruder. But he and the photos were gone.
She let out a garbled noise of despair that she had been holding in, before pushing down those feelings and quickly rushing through the downstairs of the house looking everywhere to make sure he was really gone. She checked all the doors and windows. Everything was locked.
Alec?! Panic set in and she rushed upstairs to check on him. His light snores registered that he had fallen asleep with the television on. She made sure he was all right, letting out a small noise of relief when she touched him. The reality of him helped ground her somehow. He was real. He was alive. He was ok. Everything was locked upstairs too with no signs of anyone having been there.
There was no way he could have gotten into the house. She wiped her forehead as she wondered if she had gone crazy. She hadn't imagined it. Right? The sink! She raced back downstairs and felt both relief and an aching fear as she saw that the ashes were still sitting there. Grabbing the faucet head she rinsed them down the drain. Watching as they all disappeared.
It had been real, too real. That little girl's face would forever be burned in her mind. She couldn't, wouldn't let anything happen to her. Cal Lightman might put finding the truth above everything else but she would not let him risk that little girl. No matter what, she had to convince him; there was too much at stake.
If he knew about a conspiracy, knew that someone was threatening him, he would never let it go. Not based on what she had been told. She would have to convince him another way. She would have to lie to him, make him question whether there really was a conspiracy. Could she lie to the human lie detector? To the expert in micro expressions? Gillian had no other choice. Opening his book with determination, she set herself in for a long night of learning his science.
"I knew if you were aware of an actual threat, you would stop at nothing to expose the cover up. I had every intention going into our session of lying to you. Of doing whatever I had to do to protect Emily." Gillian looked down at her hands.
"You really thought I'd choose finding the truth over Emily?" Cal asked. She looked up at him wistfully.
"There's something I have never told you. I've never really told anyone. Alec knew only bits and pieces…" Gillian curled her hands together as a bundle of nerves shook her body. Cal reached out and grabbed one of her hands. He had never seen her look so forlorn or lost. She squeezed his hand back and briefly looked at him with a thankful smile before the tears began to run down her face. She spoke softly and he did not interrupt her as she opened up. Inside though it was killing him.
"When I was about Emily's age, I was, um, absolutely enamored with basketball. My… um home life, was not … it was … well you know about my dad. I spent a lot of time with the next door neighbors. It was a house of boys, all of them played basketball. So I did too. Even made a co-ed travel team, which was something rare where I grew up. Normally I would ride with the family. The Smith family actually, if you can believe it. Ten boys. I think their mother loved me because she finally had another female around. She even taught me to bake." Gillian smiled recalling the wonderful woman who had made her feel loved and appreciated and all her 'foster' brothers. She wiped at her face with her free hand before continuing.
"There was a game… An important one, end of season. You know, if we win we go to the championship type thing." She took a shaky breath. "My father, he… he promised over and over that he would stay sober. He had to drive me because it was so far away and … the family couldn't because there was no room in the car. They were all going you see…" Gillian's voice cracked. "He promised." Cal reached out and brushed her cheek with his. He knew all about those promises. Their eyes locked. "He was sober, well sober enough when I got home from school and got ready. He told me we needed to leave early because he had to make a stop. So I rushed to get ready. I was so excited Cal."
She closed her eyes and swallowed down a sob. Taking a few deep breaths she detached herself enough to continue speaking. She had never told anyone what happened next, not all the details. Looking at her hand in his she continued. "My father took me to his club. He was a member. They drank and smoked cigars and … played poker." The last part came out softly and she quickly continued but he felt it like a punch in his gut.
"He told me to just hang out while he did some business in the back. There was a man there, a Kevin Davies. My mother never liked him. She made sure to keep me away from him. There were rumors… He, he was being nice to me. Asking about basketball, about my school. It felt weird but I was taught to be polite. I remember that I kept my coat on, even though it was really warm inside. Something just felt off about him." The hand not in Gillian's lap clenched into a fist and the hairs on the back of Cal's neck were at attention. He could see the anguish and confusion and hurt in Gillian's face. He knew as well as she what the younger Gillian had been sensing from this man.
"Anyway my father took a lot longer than he said and I started to get worried. I asked the man to go get him because I would be late for my game. When he returned my father came with him but he was sloshed. He could barely stand up and his words were slurred. The other guys, his friends told him they wouldn't let him drive. I started to panic; I was so desperate to make the game. When I started crying, my father… told me not to cry, that he was sure someone could drive me to the game. Kevin offered. Before I could even protest my dad was strapping me into the seat next to him and sending me off in the car. I was so overwhelmed. At first everything was fine, Kevin continued to ask me questions." Cal was seething. He knew what was going to happen. If Kevin even touched a hair on Gillian's head… he wanted to kill the bastard.
"Then things got uncomfortable. His questions became really inappropriate. He started asking me about boys and kissing and whether I wore a bra yet. I told him the Smiths were waiting for me and that we should hurry up and get there. He started asking me if I let the Smith boys touch me. I told him to stop being dirty and take me back to my father. The game was no longer on my mind. I was terrified of this man and I had no idea what to do about it. 'But what about the Smiths,' he asked. 'Won't they miss you?' and then he…" Gillian faltered. Cal thought his head was going to explode with rage. "He tried to… He was still driving and he tried to … um pull… pull off my pants." The tears were falling rapidly. Neither really understood how she continued speaking. Her voice though had taken on a flat quality.
"I remember hearing myself screaming. My memories are a bit hazy of what happened next, but I saw myself fighting him off, kicking and scratching and biting at his hand. Then I got the seat belt undone and hurled myself at him. He was fighting back and not paying attention to the road. He hit me across the face. So hard. It whipped my head back and I hit the door and landed on the floor of the passenger side. I remember detaching from my body and kind of floating above it looking down at myself on the floor of the car."
Cal could barely control his rage or his breathing. He wanted so badly to hit something. He barely registered that Gillian said something, but he didn't hear her. Something in the back of his mind told him it was important. Even through his anger he could read the importance on her face. Getting control of himself, of his anger, for Gillian, he took a shaky deep breath. "I'm sorry luv I missed that last part," he managed to softly prod her.
"That's when we hit the semi."
Cal's heart stopped. Gillian, little Gillian, his Gillian was hit by a semi-truck? "What?"
She nodded as if agreeing to the ridiculousness of it. "He wasn't paying attention to the road and he pulled too far into oncoming traffic. The semi took out his entire side of the car and sent it spinning off the road. It hit a tree in the backside. The branches were everywhere. Had I been anywhere else in the car, I would have died. As it was, I was in ICU for months. I sustained numerous injuries and was in physical therapy for years after. Most of the damage was to my legs and my abdominal area." Gillian's frown triggered something in Cal. Her tears stopped at that point but she still didn't look at him. "It's the most likely reason I can't have children."
Cal's heart stopped. It literally stopped. He couldn't remember how to breathe. Not until she broke. Her head went down to her chest and she curled up into a ball still holding his hand. Then his brain woke up and he inhaled rapidly. Grabbing her in his arms he cradled her against him like a baby. Rocking her back and forth and whispering her name. She sobbed into him, holding onto his shirt for dear life. The agony escaping in wails that were muffled by his chest. Cal felt his own tears running down his face. He cried for her, for her loss, her pain, her fear. He cried for himself, for his inability to make this right, to fix it, to seek revenge on both Kevin and Gillian's father.
Eventually the sobs softened and the retching ceased. Gillian simply lay with her head against Cal's chest listening to his heart beat. It was the only thing that existed other than his warmth and his arms encircling her. Sniffing she tried to sit up but he held her tightly to him. So instead she snuggled against him, allowing herself this moment of comfort.
When she had quieted down and he could hear that her breathing was calm, he asked her a question. Knowing it was probably not something he should raise, but not being able to let it go. "Did they fry the bastard?" Gillian jumped at the sound of his voice so loud against the calm of his heart beat. It took her a moment to understand what he was asking and about who. Sniffing, she again tried to sit up. This time he let her, but kept her in his arms. She rested her hand against his heartbeat, not ready to let it go. The other one she used to try to wipe off her face. She must be a mess.
"He… didn't make it. The crash, it killed him instantly." Cal's sigh of relief was loud and she gave him a feeble smile that didn't reach her eyes. "For a long time, I blamed myself for his death."
Cal's mouth fell open and his eyes registered shock for a second before he began blubbering about attempting to correct her. It was so out of left field that he couldn't even coherently argue with her.
"I know it's not. I know that now Cal, but try telling that to a child." Her other hand stroked his cheek as she looked up at him. "You know how hard it is to tell a child it's not their fault." He shut his mouth at that. He still had trouble telling himself it wasn't his fault how his mum died.
"It didn't help that my parents didn't believe me." The anger roared back to life and Gillian saw the flash in his eyes. It frightened her, but didn't surprise her. She continued feeling the need to explain to him. "My father was so intoxicated that night and I don't think he could handle his misjudgment or his responsibility. He couldn't take ownership of normal things, let alone something of that magnitude. My mother, well, she was more interested in saving face. She told me not to dirty the name of one of my father's friends."
"But you said she tried to keep you from him. She knew about his… his…" Cal broke in unable to keep his voice down. She brought her other hand up from his chest and laid it against his other cheek, turning his face to hers. Her eyes sought his as she responded.
"My mother's existence was about my father. Always. All consuming. She couldn't allow something that could tarnish his image in her mind. It just wasn't in her nature."
"But… she's… I mean… your mother…" Cal was flabbergasted. He couldn't make sense of any of this. He knew Gillian had an alcoholic father and the fact she didn't talk to her mother made him wonder about her culpability, but this was just beyond anything he imagined. He looked at her again in amazement. "How did you manage luv? How did you become so bloody wonderful?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. Cal's shock at her story had led him to drop some of his guards. She could tell he meant the words. "I… I… I don't know… I … well… when, well when I was in the hospital I remember watching everything from above myself. I know it sounds crazy but it was like I could see everyone and how they were and how I was. It felt like a choice of whether I would return to my body or not. It was like that for a few days. I remember feeling like there was something I needed to do. So I chose to go back into my body. Then when I woke up, well there was just so much pain. Everything hurt. Every minute was a struggle. But it gradually got easier. The physical therapy and the counseling. The hospital had a therapist assigned to me. She was so kind. Seeing her every day helped me gain back my courage." Gillian smiled and looked up and to the side remembering her counsellor. "I never told her what happened in the car though."
"Why not luv? I'm sure she would have believed you." Cal encouraged her and she looked up at him and smiled.
"My parents didn't want me to tell anyone. I was still young enough to listen. The good girl always." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of acceptance of that role. "So when she asked me what happened, I told her that I couldn't remember. The head injuries I sustained allowed them to write me off. The whole thing was labelled an accident."
"Couldn't remember?" Cal looked at her with a small smile. "Not didn't remember. Even then you were learning the art of the lie."
"Closer it is to the truth…" She started.
"Easier it is to pull off." He finished for her.
"I couldn't remember because my parents didn't want me to." Gillian smiled. "You would have known though." Her thumb caressed his cheek.
"Why'd you tell me this now luv? I mean, I'm glad you did, well not glad exactly but I want you to know you can tell me anything."
"I do know that Cal." She smiled up at him, this one showing in her eyes. "I told you because I want to be completely honest with you. I didn't really get the chance in the beginning of our relationship. You asked me before if I really thought you would choose finding the truth over Emily. The truth is that I did Cal. At that time, I did. But I wanted you to understand why. It had nothing to do with you. I didn't even know you then. Now I do. I know you would never put anything before Emily. But back then I only had my own experiences to go on. My father was not the best role model. I'm sorry to say that my own beliefs clouded my expectations of you. I didn't expect you to choose Emily."
Cal's brain was wrapping around all of what she had said. She had disclosed what, possibly, was one of her biggest most closely held secrets. All to show him that she hadn't judged him. That it had been about her own misconceptions. He looked at her again in awe.
"But you did, Cal. The very first sign that she was in trouble, you chose your daughter."
They both thought back to that first discussion.
"I'd like to talk about your family." Gillian asked him gently.
"Yeah… no… why?" Cal countered caught off guard by her question. He had started saying yes, as he almost felt like he could actually trust her and talk to her about anything, but then his years of insecurity and caution flared and he told her no because how could he trust her, what if this was some sort of shrink game she was playing, well, playing well but still playing. Finally he had settled at questioning her motives.
She had ignored his deflection and simply continued, "Your wife Zoe, your daughter Emily"
"Off limits." He shut her down. She was good, she was, but he wouldn't be fooled.
Closing the book with her notes, Gillian addresses him using her hands. She wanted him to know that she cared, and that this was not just about the evaluation. It had to appear genuine.
"It must be quite a strain juggling family with the type of work you do." She gave him an opening.
"No, it's not. I mean, not if your family comes first, it's not." He responded reading something odd in her expression. This was a no brainer for him but she seemed surprised under that shrink exterior of hers. Why would she be surprised? Did she think that poorly of him or was it something else?
"And not to mention the dangerous set of circumstances you clearly believe yourself to be in right now…" She continued inwardly holding her breath as she attempted to remain stoic and hide any trace of fear.
Staring at Gillian for a few moments, it crystalizes for him. She's warning him. Subtly letting him know that his family is in danger. That had to be it. She was doing it well, but there it was, or was it? Well he wasn't taking any chances, not with Zoe, not with Em. Standing up, he makes his way towards her door. "Right, I get it. It's loud and clear. It's all I need to hear. Now, you tell them I'll go quietly alright but just leave my family alone."
Her surprise had to be evident on her face. It tripped him up for a second and he stalled. She was surprised by that. Did that mean they weren't threatening his family?
Gillian was surprised but by his vehement reaction, his deep desire to protect his family, his daughter. She wasn't prepared for it to be this simple. She hadn't thought he would drop it so quickly to save Emily. She had tried to keep him from seeing a threat but he had read it anyway. But she had done everything his book had said to do, or had she slipped. She had to make sure, "Dr. Lightman that's not what I meant…"
"Now you're calling me paranoid eh?" He questioned back trying to read her face. Why was it so damn difficult? It intrigued him even as it pissed him off.
"I was referring to Doyle still being out there somewhere." She countered giving him a reasonable explanation for why she had asked about the danger to his family.
She seemed so concerned, so honest. But was it real or an act? There was something else going on here. "You're trying to tell me something else right? Only you can't. Why is that? Eh?"
He sees her eyebrows come together. "There it is again." If she won't tell him, he will assume the worst. It's saved his butt before. Walking to the door, he calls back to her, "Thank you very much," and then leaves without looking back.
"I knew there was something you weren't telling me luv." Cal looked at her closely. This time she didn't break eye contact.
"I tried to do, or not do, everything your book said. I practiced and practiced in front of the mirror. But you knew something was up, you read the threat I couldn't tell you was there." She smiled, lifting a hand to brush against the scruff on his chin. "You surprised me that day, Cal. Not because you read me even after I worked so hard to keep it a secret but more because of your vehement response to protecting Emily. It was immediate and unquestioning. You didn't even argue it. I could tell you weren't entirely sure, but just a hint, just a chance that Emily could be hurt and you would walk away."
"Of course luv. Nothing is worth Emily getting hurt." Cal replied his eyes darting all over Gillian's face watching for her reaction, unsure where she was going with this. He brought his own hand up and covered the hand she was resting against his face.
She smiled at him again but this time with a hint of pain. She swallowed but didn't break eye contact. "My father wouldn't have made that choice. I went into the meeting with you expecting to see him sitting across from me. Expecting you to choose your own obsession over your daughter. You didn't do that. You chose Emily."
He looked at her, unsure if he was really seeing what her face was trying to tell him. "You said that there was more, more to the lie, more than just Finch. What else did you lie about luv?" His eyes scanned her features trying to read her.
"It wasn't … really a lie Cal… more an undisclosed truth." Her hand slid down and stopped on his chest right above his heart. She looked down at her hand and felt the rise of his breaths.
"A truth?" he asked her, lifting her chin with his hand until he could see her eyes. He saw her fear but he saw something else, something he couldn't actually believe he was seeing.
"It was that moment Cal. That moment you chose Emily, where I saw the kind of man you were, the person you are. That was when I fell in love with you." She whispered the last part as she looked into his eyes unblinking. It came out so easily, without any pause or hesitation.
He stared at her, reading the love in her face. That's what it was, what he couldn't believe he was seeing: love. He stared at her, basking in the warmth and the openness she was sharing with him. He was unable to move, unable to speak. His eyes looking at her brows, her chin, her cheeks, her lips, back at her eyes.
"Real shock only lasts a moment Cal. After that, well, it's manufactured…" She teased softly watching him read her features as if he couldn't believe what she was showing him, what she was telling him.
Composing himself and looking her over once again, his gaze softened as their eyes connected. "This isn't shock Gill, it's awe, amazement, incredulity. Bloody fantastic this is." Her responsive smile radiated across her face and made his stomach clench. He was about to smile back when he remembered something. "Is this what you were hiding luv? Before you told me that you wanted to come clean. Is this it?"
Her smile softened into a steady gaze. "It is. I lied to you about Finch to save Emily. Seeing your reaction that day, falling in love with you instantly, well… It's kind of hard to say that to your married client."
"Ay ay, luv." Cal turned his face gazing at her. "But I'm not married anymore." She smirked back at him. "You're not married anymore." Her smirk grew into a grin. "But I guess I am your boss so that makes it a bit of a no no." She slugged his arm earning an 'oy' and a laugh from him. "Kidding Foster. We're partners in business… maybe being partners in other ways wouldn't be such a stretch for us."
"So long as you know, if we do decide to be … romantic partners," She paused trying to hide her smile watching his eyes twinkle at her words. "My name will be on the door."
He laughed outright and she smiled at him cheekily. He pulled her against him gazing into her eyes. She saw the lightbulb go off and his subsequent evil grin and knew something was about to come out of his mouth. Whether it would make her laugh or piss her off she wasn't yet sure. She could tell he wasn't sure either.
"So what you're saying, if I have this right, is we're work partners at the Lightman Group." He paused for dramatic effect and she rolled her eyes before playing along and nodding. He was far too pleased with whatever was coming. "and as romantic partners we'll be at the Foster home?"
"Really Cal?" The look she gave him made him laugh out loud.
"You love it." He wagged his eyebrows and clucked his tongue puffing out his chest.
"No Cal," she smiled at him, "but I do love you." He grinned back.
"You know Foster," He asked rhetorically, "I may have my own undisclosed truth." He smirked at her.
"I already know Cal," Grinning back at him she rubbed her thumb against his cheek.
"What's that luv?" His eyes narrowing trying to read her to see if she really knew what he was going to say.
She laughed, "But it's still nice to hear."
His smile grew, "You and your words Foster." She smiled indulgently at him. "That day in your office, the first time we met." She nodded at him to continue. "I felt a pull toward you that scared me luv. I've never experienced anything like that before or since. You were so hard for me to read, even from the beginning, whether it was the lie or not. You were so intriguing. I've never trusted anyone straight off, you know, I may have some trust issues..."
She let out a small scoff and he laughed. "Just a bit."
He continued smirking. "But with you, it was like, I couldn't stop opening up. Felt like I had to tell you everything. Wanted to be close to you, to keep you near me. When I left the Pentagon, I knew you were the one thing I had to take with me. Couldn't lose you then. Can't lose you now Gill."
She grabbed the front of his shirt with her hand. "You won't Cal. You won't ever lose me. I'm not going anywhere. I hope I've shown you that. No matter what. I won't leave you."
Cal released a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Yeah, you've definitely shown me luv. Can't tell you what that means to me." He took both her hands in his and brought them up to his lips. Kissing the tops of her fingers gently he looked at her from under lowered lids. Bringing both their hands down into his lap he looked at her and for the first time ever he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He had Gillian, and she wouldn't leave him. The words that had been so hard for him to say before, flowed off his tongue now. "I love you Gill."
The smile that lit up her face warmed his heart. She had no idea the power of that smile. Holding her eyes, he leaned forward and she matched his pace until their mouths were mere millimeters apart. He could feel her breath ghost across them. Shivering at the feeling, he gently pressed his lips to hers. Their eyes closed at the same time. He felt her lips moving against his and they both moaned.
Gillian deepened the kiss first, turning her head slightly to the side and parting her lips to him. Cal wasted no time, desiring to taste her. The tip of his tongue met hers briefly before sliding deeper into her mouth. His hands moved automatically, one wrapped around her waist while the other slid up her body to bury itself in her hair. Gillian's hands ran up his chest. She kept one covering his heart feeling its pounding. She cupped his face with her other hand rubbing her thumb along the skin there.
Cal had kissed many women in his lifetime, his ex-wife included, but never had he experienced anything like this. He was invested in this kiss with his whole body and soul, mentally, physically, emotionally, even spiritually. There was no rush and no demand. He could kiss Gillian Foster for hours and be in complete bliss.
He was so caught up in her, in the feel of her mouth against his lips that it took him a moment to realize she had pulled back. Blinking, his eyes finally registered that she was watching him, the tiniest smirk on the corner of her lips. He was grateful for the desire still evident on her face or he might have been concerned when she stopped their kiss. As if reading his mind, her smirk became … smirkier? More smirky? Apparently, his brain had left him for the time being. In all honestly, he was perfectly alright with that.
Growling he nuzzled against her jaw, "Something on your mind luv?"
"Just making sure this is real." She laughed as he nipped at her neck. He looked back up at her and saw the love reflected in her eyes. "It's nice to see it on your face." She gently ran her thumb along his cheekbone.
In return, he felt his eyes roam all over her features. Everything he saw made his stomach clench up in delight, his heart race in his chest, and his pupils dilate even more. She loved him and now, finally, he could see it. "I couldn't agree more luv."