The fall had been long and beautiful, with more vibrant leaves than they had had in several years. Until early November, the trees had slowly shed their dying fire onto the streets and the whole city had been alight. It could not last forever, however, and once the trees were bare, the weather had hovered for a while between fall and winter, consisting mostly of dry, biting winds. It seemed to have made up its mind now. It had snowed lightly over night but over the course of the morning, the weather had gradually snowballed into a silent but steady snowfall. It leant a certain feeling of isolation and self-enclosure to the office. Inside was warm and bright and work chugged along despite the cozy and relaxed atmosphere. Ria rather found it fostered the inclination to curl up with a warm drink. Maybe in the lounge. Maybe together. Her mind wandered along the train of thought as her eyes slipped idly over an open case file, taking in very little. The scene expanded. Loker would be showing Emily some trick, botching it under Lightman's critical gaze. They would laugh and he would give a flustered smile and try to defend his ability. Foster would look up from her book and cast a disapproving glance at Lightman, turning the tables and making everyone grin triumphantly at the boss. Maybe they would even have Ava. Maybe she would get off school for the holidays and get to come home. She would be sitting at Foster's feet, facing Ria. She'd ask to try the trick herself - and succeed on the first try. Lightman would snort his approval and make some comment about Ava that would make her beam in a such way that even Loker would smile. It wasn't quite family but it fit in a way that no holiday scene from Ria's life ever had. Maybe she should contact the school and find out what their holiday policy was. Her eyes had drifted off the edge of the page and were down staring dazedly off into space. Ugh. She tossed the folder down on her desk. There was no way she was getting any work done like this. Maybe some coffee would help.

As she passed the lab on her way to the break room, Ria paused, then, swinging an arm around the doorframe, poked her head in. "Hey Loker, you wanna coffee?"

Loker was leaning back relaxedly in his chair, a cup of coffee already in his hands and a muffin sitting on a napkin at his elbow to boot. "Mm, Torres, come have a look at this." He gestured to the screen.

Ria huffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, of course it slipped your mind to grab me some."

He gave her an unapologetic head-tilt shoulder-shrug and then turned back to the screen. Sighing, she pulled up a chair, expecting to see an interview or a snippet of film. Instead, the screen was divided into four squares, each showing an off-centered aerial view of a section of the office. The top right showed the front desk while the other three showed sections of the hallways. Security cameras. In the bottom left, the two bosses were standing facing each other, Lightman's back was turned but irritation was plain on Foster's face, which was fully visible.

"Mom and Dad are fighting." Loker smirked.

Ria leaned forward and picked a sizeable chunk out of her colleague's muffin. Shoving in her mouth, she asked "What about?"

Loker frowned at her thievery. "Not sure. Money, maybe?"

She snorted, reaching for more muffin. "Yeah, or the Zoe case he took on. Hey!"

He had slapped her hand away. "Get your own!"

They turned their attention back to the screen. Now Lightman was talking, shifting his weight back and forth between his two feet, shoulders sloping up and down like an erratic teeter-totter. Foster's arms were crossed and she was listening with impatience. After a moment, she dramatically lifted her chin and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"See that? Frustration, anger, worry. I bet it's gambling." said Ria through another mouthful.

Loker raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "Maybe." Lightman was now sidling up into Foster's space, an index finger jabbing at the air by her face. Foster's chin was tipped, humoring him. She averted her eyes and gave a short derisive laugh, which was lost by the soundless feed. "He's being unreasonable." Loker stated. "My money's on Emily."

"Mm, she's too angry. He's done something." She popped some more muffin into her mouth.

Loker looked at his colleague with disgust, then picked up the muffin by the napkin and snarkily dropped it into her lap. "Take it, why don't you?"

"If you insist."

"Oh!" Loker pointed to the screen, leaning forwards in his seat. "Did you see that?"

Ria looked up from picking muffin crumbs off of her shirt. "Ooh! The Foster sneer!"

"Contempt! You may have been right, he's definitely done something. Could still be Emily, though."

"If it is, he's gone too far. On Foster, I mean." She reached for his coffee. He snatched the mug away. "What? I need something to wash down the muffin."

"Get your own!"

Moodily, she went back to the crumbs, muttering.

"You think he said something about her not being a mother?" Loker mused, sipping from his mug.

Ria shook her head. "No pain, no surprise. Would've seen both if he had."

"Or she'd've punched him."

"Foster?" She snorted. "Yeah right."

"You're right, wishful thinking." He took another drag of coffee.

On the screen, the joint heads of the Group were moving; Lightman evading in his repulsively confident swagger and Foster responding with graceful strides aimed to block him. They simultaneously moved out of one square and into another, the angle different this time.

Ria took a reflective bite of muffin. "He's trying to leave but she isn't done. Could be about that book he's supposed to be writing."

Loker picked up a pencil from his desk and twirled it in his fingers. "That counts as finances."

"Or making enemies." She pointed out.

"Mm, true. He hasn't been playing nice with the FBI lately."

Ria eyed the coffee mug again, then sighed. She flopped back in her chair. "Didn't he just turn down a bunch of lectures they wanted him to do?"

Loker scratched the back of his neck. "Not quite. He just neglected to respond." He yawned.

"Oh look," Ria laughed, "here comes Reynolds."

They could see the agent walking through one of the frames, phone to his ear. He stopped soon, though, apparently having heard the argument over his conversation. He glanced cautiously out of the frame, then said something into the phone and ran a hand over his scalp. Loker laughed. "Poor guy, not exactly what he signed up for."

Reynolds rubbed the hand over his face and then, with a haggard expression, turned and headed back down the hallway the way he'd come. He disappeared from the screen and entered the lab a moment later, phone still to his ear. Ria smirked and scooted over so that he could pull up a chair.

"Yes, Sir. Yes, I'll handle it." He looked at his phone with reproach before putting it in his back pocket. "Would you two believe that your loony of a boss had the nerve to hack into my account on the FBI database and run a check on his daughter's boyfriend?"

Ria bent double and gave a snort of laughter. Loker dropped his pencil and smirked. "Yes, actually. That sounds exactly like him." He turned to his colleague, a gloating grin on his face and an upturned hand held open to her. "Torres, I believe that counts as Emily."

She grumbled but nevertheless reached into her jacket pocket and fished around for her wallet. She extracted a five dollar bill and grudgingly handed it to him.

Reynolds sighed, running a hand over his head once more, then pulled a wheelie chair over from one of the desks and flopped back into it. "What're we watching?"

All eyes turned back to the screen, which was now empty.

"Where'd they go?"

"Snooping, are we?" Three heads whipped around to see Lightman standing in the doorway, disinterest rather than anger showing on his face.

Gillian sighed and rolled her chair closer to her desk. Her partner was impossible. One day, his insolence would surely drive the company into the ground; but, insisted Gillian inwardly, today was not that day. As if to prove that to herself, she reached decisively across her immaculate desk and picked up a completed case file. There was always work to be done, particularly the type of administrative work that Cal abhorred and therefore let fall on her. This case, a vetting of applicants for positions at a home security company, had been completed two and a half weeks ago. She had found the file sitting under a half-filled sudoku and a used mug on Cal's desk. The billing still needed to be sent and the report written up to be put on file in the Group's database. Well, on with it then. Gillian took a sip of tea and called up the Group's standard invoice form. There was a comfortable air about the office today and she found it easy to slip into her work. In fact, Gillian's pleasant focus was such that when her cellphone rang she answered it without so much as a glance at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I please speak with Dr. Gillian Foster?"

Gillian hummed, dropping her gaze from the computer screen to listen. "This is she."

"Good afternoon, Dr. Foster. This is Annemarie calling from the Capital Children's Home." It was certainly nothing, surely just another case. Still, she felt her pulse quicken in her chest. Composedly, she waited.

There was a pause. Gillian could hear the woman breathing on the other end. "I'm deeply sorry for your experience with the Delaware Foster and Adoption Agency the year before last… I can't imagine what that must have been like for you and your husband." A strange way to present a case. Gillian took an anguished breath and held it. Annemarie continued. "I understand that we're in no position to ask favours from you, of all people, and I am so sorry for this. Due to the weather, we've lost power in our facility. The back-up generators aren't working and we don't know how long it'll be before we have power again. We're trying to find places for the children to stay until then but of course, we already have as many as possible in foster homes. You and your husband passed every step of the adoption vetting process with flying colours and while I know that you aren't registered as foster parents, we hoped that you might consider taking a child for a day or two."

Not a case then. No. It took a moment for her to realize that now it was her turn to talk. Her mouth was dry and suddenly she felt what her mother has always called 'sad throat'. All she could think to say was: "I'm not married anymore."

It sounded so hollow. Why was that what she had said?

On the other end, Annemarie paused. "I'm sorry to hear that, Dr. Foster."

It was as if Gillian's mind had been left behind but now it whizzed forwards to catch up. She cleared her throat. "Does that matter?"

"Excuse me?"

"Does it matter that I'm not married anymore? Does that make a difference?"

"In your eligibility to foster? Not at all, we have plenty of single foster parents."

Gillian's mind skimmed over the other implications. "My house isn't baby proofed. I don't have a crib set up."

"Don't worry about any of that, ma'am. Most of our children are older."

"Yes, yes, I think that would be best. I don't have any baby things" She steeled her voice, determined to remain poised.

"Dr. Foster, would you be willing to take in a child for a day or two?"

Had she not answered that yet? "Yes, of course. The poor children! What do I need to do?" Gillian reached across her desk for a pad of paper and a pen.

"Thank you, thank you Dr. Foster. I just need to refer to the placement executive and get the paperwork. Are you able to come to City Hall by six o'clock to fill out the forms and pick up the child?"

She nodded, scrawling the place and timings on her notepad. "Absolutely, how soon could you have me?"

"We've already started transfers here. Anytime between now and six will do."

"Okay, and what will I need to bring?"

"We require two pieces of photo identification and your permission for us to view your medical records."

"Of course, check them."

Annemarie paused. "Can I answer any more questions, Dr. Foster?"

Gillian collected her thoughts. "Do I need a carseat?"

She could hear the smile in the woman's voice when she answered "We can provide you with one."

In the Lab, Loker cleared his throat. "Routine check of the security cameras." Next to him, Ria sniggered into her muffin, quickly catching her mistake and trying to play it off as a sudden cough.

"Nice try, mate." Lightman wrinkled his nose. "Torres," he waved a finger in the air, as if its arbitrary path would help him to pin down the right phrasing for his particular sentiment. "Pathetic."

The pair watched warily but instead of berating them, Lightman just shrugged and tipped Loker out of his chair, proceeding to sit down in his place. "What're we watching, then?"

Loker cast his boss a reproachful glare but said nothing. Ria looked down to hide her expression. Lightman looked around at his employees, then back at the screen, recognizing a section of hallway. "Ah, did you enjoy watching Foster get her knickers all in a twist over my personal habits?"

"Gambling! I knew it!" cried Ria, giving Loker a rough poke in the ribs. "Cough up!"

"Oi!" Lightman scowled as his tech guy pulled a ten out of his back pocket and deposited it into Ria's upturned palm. "You two make a habit of profiting on my pain?"

Reynolds had previously been ignoring the spat but this was too much. "Maybe you should think before you act. Cause yourself less pain that way, not to mention others." he muttered.

Cal cast the agent an unconcerned glance. "Been drinking the Foster Kool-Aid, have we? What's next? You gonna start wearing dresses and nagging me about paperwork?"

"Hey, don't push me. I'm about this close to having your ass hauled off to the FBI headquarters for a nice chat about why it's wrong to hack into our database." He shook a hand at Lightman, his thumb and index finger almost touching.

Cal fixed his fingers with an analytic stare. "Well I reckon that's fair." He turned back to his employees, leaving Reynolds to huff in exasperation. "Why're you two allowed to gamble anyways? I'm the boss around here!"

Lightman's protégée patted her newly deeper jacket pocket with a cheeky grin. "I'd take that up with Foster if I were you."

"Although maybe not just now." Loker pointed to the screen. Doctor Foster had just appeared in the farthest hallway frame, walking purposefully towards the front desk. She was wearing her coat and rifling through her purse as if for her car keys. It was barely past three and Foster never left early. Most disconcerting, however, was that when she lifted her face, her practiced expression of unreadable impassivity seemed to be peeling at the edges, glimmers of determination and excitement slipping through.

"Bloody hell." In an instant, Lightman was out the door and jogging down the hall.

In a matter of moments he caught up to Gillian and had fallen into step beside her. "Going somewhere?" He reached an arm around her waist, waiting agitatedly for her to respond.

Foster looked at him and he saw the continued hints of emotion dance around her face. He tightened his grip on her, unnerved. His partner nodded. "Yes, sorry, I meant to tell you. I'm taking the rest of the day off."

Cal quickly reeled in his gape. "That's not like you." He mused conversationally. It was also unlike her to continue to fish around in her purse instead of wrapping her arm around his back. He stopped walking, turning so that he was facing her, blocking her way. "Any reason in particular?"

She looked up properly now, looked into his face. Her hands on her purse stilled, then dropped it entirely. "Yes, actually."

Cal gave an uncomfortable smile. "Well tell us, then."

His partner fixed him with a slightly amused look and cocked her head in a way that told him quite clearly that she was still irked with him about earlier.

"Hell, have I finally driven you of the deep end? Can't stand one more minute in here so you're finally giving in to the government's wooing? Going back to work at the Pentagon, are we?"

She scoffed. "They'd have to do a lot better than the Pentagon, don't you think?"

He grinned, "Ah, so you're not leaving me?"

"No, we're not quite there yet." She gave him the kind of warm smile that told him it would take much more than another argument for them to be separated. Returning her attention to her purse and sidestepping, she forced him to fall back into step beside her. He slipped his arm back around her waist as she spoke. "I've actually just received a call from a Children's Home. They've lost power in the storm and they're scrambling for foster homes for the children there. I've agreed to host one of them for the weekend." There was a nonchalance in her voice that piqued his attention.

"You're what?"

"Taking in a foster child. It's just for the weekend and goodness knows the children have to go somewhere." Again the carefully casual tone. It took a great deal more self control to bite his tongue than Cal had believed himself to possess. His racing mind helped minutely. He wasn't sure what he would have said in any case. This seems impulsive? You're supposed to be the sensible one? She was the sensible one. To him this did not seem like a sensible thing to do but then, he couldn't really think what was wrong with the idea. These children needed people to take care of them and Gillian had some intrinsic need to nurture. Maybe… it was sensible? He nodded slowly. "Do you want me to come with you?"

She shook her head. "Thank you but I think I'd better do this myself. I've been cleared for the adoption process and you haven't been. I just don't want to overcomplicate things once I'm there."

"What does this have to do with the adoptions process?" Was she planning to adopt again?"

"Nothing, it's just a transferrable vetting process."

He nodded again, as if the bobbing movement of his head would somehow help him to understand what was going on. "Right. Well you call me if you need anything. Anything, you hear me?"

She cocked her head and smiled a little. "Yeah, of course. Thank you, Cal."

He shrugged, "And you call me once the little bugger's asleep, yeah? Tell me how it went?"

She gave an exasperated smile. "Naturally. Goodbye, Cal."

"Right." Tugging her in with the arm that was still wrapped around her, Cal pressed a prickly kiss to her soft cheek, getting a soft kiss on his prickly cheek in return.

"Drive safe, love!" He called after her as she headed for the door, "And don't you forget to call!"