A prompt by Lightwoman and Dr. Callian led to this crazy piece of fic. I hadn't written anything for post "Killer App." so I threw some of that tension in here. Some of this is a mess and I'm not happy with the flow (what happens when I work on two fics at once). I think I made up for it with the ATTHS section, and lets face it, thats what a'll are here for ;-)

Enjoy Scarymovietiems!

Tiny disclaimer...I don't own Lie To Me or anything associated with it but if I did I would be either be kissing Fox's ass right now or network shopping. Just Sayin'.

Oh, and my dream is that Tim will some day read a little piece of my smut fic so that he can see what the show is missing! He's a bit naughty, wouldn't put it past him! I won't hold my breth though.

Cal packed up his laptop, zipping the case and flinging it over his shoulder as he prepared to head home from the office. He looked over his desk one last time just to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He'd been spending far too much time in his office when he wasn't making excuses to be out in the field or on the road to speaking engagements or conferences. He was beginning to get sick of staring at his desk and, quite frankly, internet porn had lost its sparkle of late.

Keys in hand, he was startled when he met Gillian in the hall as she emerged from her office, also apparently with plans of leaving for the day.

"Oh, hi Cal," she fumbled. She'd been hoping to avoid him as she headed home early, wanting to avert yet another in their growing string of awkward moments.

"Hey yourself, headed home are you?" He wished he had a better opener. Things between them had felt…strained for the last few weeks and he knew it was his fault. Ever since his conversation with Emily regarding his feelings for Gillian he had been consciously putting her at a distance while he tried to sort through what was going on in his head. It wasn't fair to her. He knew she was hurting and lonely and he knew she needed him and he felt like a shit for thinking of himself first.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I have some paperwork to catch up on but I'd rather do it from home."

"Oh, good," he said lamely as they reached the door. Normally he would chastise her for working at home and invite her to dinner but he had refrained from creating situations where he would be alone with her recently. In truth, he was afraid she would see right through him now that he had put a name to the feelings he had for her. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Cal." She turned to walk toward the metro station, refusing to let him see how much his cool demeanor cut her.

He could hear the disappointment in her voice and realized that, while he tried his best to cover it, she sensed his distancing. No amount self preservation was worth the thought of Gillian spending a night alone with nothing but work for company while she wondered why her best friend was actively putting space between them.

He spun on his heel. "Gillian," he called to her retreating form. She stopped instantly, turning to face him and he winced at the tiny flicker of hope on her face. He walked in the direction she had been heading, closing the distance between them. "I was thinking…Emily and I were supposed to have movie and lasagna night tonight but she called earlier to say she was staying at a friend's house. I've got all this lasagna waiting in the fridge at home, would you like to come over for dinner and a movie?"

Relief washed over her in waves. She wanted to say 'what took you so long,' but instead she took the high road. "Any dessert to go with that lasagna?" she arched an eyebrow.

"I think that could be arranged, love," he realized it was the first time he had used the endearment in far too long.

"Well then I'm in." She patted the bag at her side. "This is nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." Her body thrilled as he put a hand to the small of her back in a familiar, and lately all too absent, gesture. He guided her to his car and for the first time in weeks she thought, maybe, just maybe, their friendship and partnership might survive whatever was going on in Cal's head.

"Mmmm…that was delicious Cal," Gillian said as she cleaned her plate.

"Thank you very much." He curled his lip in his best imitation of The King. "I'm just glad to have someone to share it with, else I'd have had to eat the whole pan myself." He smiled, glad that he felt relaxed around her for the first time in weeks. "So, ready for the movie?"

"What did you get?"

"Well Emily actually picked this one. Tonight's theme was 'scary movies' so she picked up," he walked over to the counter and looked at the DVD case, "'Paranormal Activity'," he said. "Sounds vaguely scary I suppose."

"Oh, I haven't seen that one. I love scary movies but I refuse to watch them alone. I always think some serial killer is hiding in the shadows when I'm done." She admitted sheepishly.

They walked into the living room and she sat on one end of the sofa, tucking her legs up under her.

"Would you like a blanket to hide under?" he offered.

"That would be great, though I usually just close my eyes when the creepy music starts," she giggled.

He grabbed a tasseled blanket from a chair and draped it over her body, tucking it around her shoulders. His heart skipped as his thumb accidently brushed her neck and he realized just how adorable she looked. Schooling his features he sat down on the cushion next to her, draping an arm across the back of the sofa.

Despite her trepidations about the movie, Gillian was glad to be close to him. During dinner things had felt almost normal. Almost. She couldn't help but notice the way he avoided her eyes sometimes, as if he was concealing something he didn't want her to see. He tensed at odd moments like when he had handed her a plate earlier and her hand had accidently brushed his leg, or just then when his thumb grazed lightly over the side of her throat. He had always been touchy with her, sometimes too much for her comfort and now suddenly it was if every accidental whisper of flesh against flesh was a painful burn. She didn't want to think about what it meant so she focused on the screen.

Cal watched Gillian out of the corner of his eye as the movie began to play. Her eyes were glued to the television and as the shaky camera movement began, she held the edge of the blanket beneath her chin, ready to cover her face. During a scene where the subjects of the movie lay in bed while their bedroom door moved of its own accord, her hand darted out and grabbed his knee as if reassuring herself that he was there and solid. The feel of her small warm palm through the fabric of his jeans sent a bolt of electricity through him and he trembled involuntarily.

He was tense beside her and he was watching her. She tried to ignore his eyes on her and became lost in the building tension of the movie. Each time the couple on the screen slipped into bed she readied the blanket to shield herself. Unfortunately this time there was no scary music to warn her and when things began to go bump in the night, she was caught unaware and grabbed automatically for the safety of the warm body next to her.

She couldn't help but notice the way he jumped at her touch, or the way his muscles shook beneath her hand. "Are you cold? Do you want some of the blanket?" she offered, not waiting for an answer before she scooted closer to him, draping the blanket over his lap as she tucked up into the crook of his arm. Immersion therapy: If he was overly sensitive to her touch all of a sudden, she would damn well drown him in it until he got over whatever this was.

He sat his arm on her shoulder and tried to focus on the screen, ignoring the terrifically bad acting. In this new position he felt every tiny shiver and startle of her body and when, at the next scary scene, she buried her face in his shirt, he was suddenly glad of the blanket covering his lap. She smelled like pineapple and vanilla and the sweet musky scent nearly drove him out of his mind.

The next hour was pure torture, due in-part to the horribly poor excuse for cinema his daughter had chosen and in-part to his body's seemingly uncontrollable reaction to Gillian's close intimate proximity. As the film finally drew to a close she sat up, her eyes glancing furtively around the room into each shadow.

"You okay, love?" he asked.

"It's stupid, I know, it just takes me awhile to shake movies like that sometimes. I'll be fine after I drive home. Of course I'll sleep with every light in the house on tonight," she admitted.

"You can always stay in the guest room," he offered.

"No, it's silly. I'm a grown woman. I'll be completely fine" she realized she was trying to reassure herself as much as him. "But I mean… if it's not too much trouble, it is nice not to have to drive home so late." She tried to hide the relief in her voice. In truth, she had been dreading the thought of going home to a dark apartment and trying to sleep with the covers pulled over her head while she jumped at every sound.

"No problem at all," he chuckled, "And you have my personal guarantee that my house is demon free. Let me get you set up upstairs." He got up from the couch, happy that their few moments of conversation had given him time to get his libido under control.

They switched off the lights and he led her to his guest bedroom, making sure she had everything she needed. He got her one of his polo shirts to sleep in and dug out an extra toothbrush.

"Cal?" she asked in a small voice as he turned to leave. "I know it's stupid but could you maybe…leave the hall light on?"

"Absolutely, love, absolutely." He smiled at her.

Cal lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He was rolling the events of the evening over and over in his mind. She felt so perfect nestled into his arms and he realized that he wanted more of those moments. He couldn't shake his awareness of the fact that she was right down the hall from him and he found her relative proximity somehow comforting and arousing all at the same time.

It was a cold night and he heard the heat kick on as he lay there, hoping Gillian had enough blankets. He heard the slow pinging of the old pipes in the house as they warmed. A moment later, he heard the creak of his bedroom door and he bolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest. He was relieved to see Gillian's body outlined in the light from the hall and fell back against his pillows.

"Christ Gill, you nearly gave me a bloody heart attack," he said with a hand to his chest.

"I'm sorry. I just…heard a strange noise. I feel so stupid but...could I..." she took a deep breath, "Could I maybe sleep in here with you?" She rushed the words from her mouth.

"It's just hot water in the pipes, love, nothing to be scared of. This old house has radiant heat and it makes noise when it's cold. I should have warned you." He saw that she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, reluctant to return to the solitude of the next room. This was going to be one of those no-win situations. He sighed, unwilling to send her away. "Of course you can stay with me. It's a big bed, more than enough room," he said with more confidence than he felt.

He saw her body sag with relief as she shut the door and hurried around the bed, her feet making soft pattering sounds across the hardwood floor. It reminded him of times that Emily had crept into bed with him after a nightmare when she was a small child. She slid beneath the covers and he made sure to give her a wide berth, scooting himself over to the far side of the bed to avoid the temptation to touch her.

She settled in, perhaps a foot from where he lay, arm bent behind his head trying to think of anything other than the fact that the woman he loved desperately was in bed next to him.

Gillian felt so foolish. She'd always been this way with scary movies no matter how silly they were. Something about the tension of them stayed with her and every shadow; every sound became that of a menacing serial killer or poltergeist. She knew better than to watch them most of the time and certainly never watched them alone but she was so glad to have Cal acting like himself around her again that she would have endured just about anything to be with her best friend.

She startled as a creaky groan sounded in the wall close to her side of the bed and turned toward him, reassuring herself of his presence.

"It's normal Gill, I swear. Happens every time the heat comes on in the winter. When we first moved in it kept me awake nights but now I don't even notice it." His voice was soothing and low as he tried to calm her.

"Thank you for not making fun of me," she said.

"Oh, don't worry; I'll never let you live this one down. I'll just save it for another time when you least expect it."

She couldn't remember the last time they had been this close for this long. She wanted desperately to reach out to him, to feel the comfort of his arms around her. She lay for the longest time, silently willing him to move, to give her some sign that he was still her Cal; the Cal she knew wouldn't let an opportunity like this pass by without some attempt at a cheap move. She didn't understand why his touch was suddenly so important to her that she craved it more than air.

He lay beside her listening to her quiet breathing and resisted his desperate need to reach out to her, to cradle her in the warmth of his arms and ease her fears no matter how childish. He was startled when her hand slowly snaked out from beneath the covers, coming to rest just above his heart. He turned to look at her in the dim light.

"Thank you Cal," she whispered.

She wasn't talking about his comforting words and they both knew it.

He placed his hand over hers and gently brought it to his lips, closing his eyes as his lips lingered briefly over her fingertips before he returned her hand to where she had laid it.

"I'm so sorry Gillian, that I haven't been there for you as I should." He tried to explain but no more words were coming. Even in this dim light there was no doubt in his mind that she was reading every expression on his face, listening to the genuine remorse in his tone.

"I understand Cal," she said as a tear slipped silently down her cheek.

Her tears nearly broke his heart when he wasn't their cause. This was almost unbearable. "Hey, come 'ere, none of that now." Unable to endure her tears and against his better judgment, he scooted closer to her, his arm sliding beneath her shoulders as he held her to him, stroking her hair. As she settled into his arms, her head tucked beneath his chin, he realized that he could not imagine a more perfect feeling than that of her weight pressed solidly against him.

She tried to relax. She was where she wanted to be, but as his hand stroked her hair and she breathed in the warm familiar scent of his skin a new tension crept over her as his touch set off tiny sparks across her flesh. Christ, if he felt even half of this when she touched him, she knew why he flinched when she got too close. She suddenly knew the ache she had been carrying around inside her for what it was. How could she have been so blind?

As her world shifted around her, she made a decision.

He tried to breathe evenly, tried consciously to still the beating of his heart. He thought about cases they were working on, even resorted to contemplating the Lightman Groups' dim financials and yet he couldn't ease his body's natural reaction to her closeness. He knew she must be aware, must feel his tension and the rapid thump of his heart beneath her palm. His body was alert to her every move and as the silence closed over them, he was astounded when, instead of becoming even with the onset of sleep, her breathing began to become shallow and her fingers traced tiny circles over the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

She shifted against him, her head leaving the shelter of his neck as her eyes searched for his. As she stared up at him with unlooked-for arousal and the slightest trace of fear, she moved her thigh up over his so that her leg came to rest against the swelling of his groin, forcing him to suck in a sharp breath.

"Gillian…" he warned.

"You won't push me away this time Cal."

"You don't want this, love," he whispered.

"Look at my face and say that again," she demanded.

He wasn't prepared for her vehemence, nor was he prepared for the intensity of emotions playing across her features as she looked at him, her eyes wide in the dimness.

"You don't know what you're asking Gillian." He tried to dissuade her.

"I'm asking my best friend to make love to me. I'm asking for something we both want," she stated simply, emphasizing her words by tracing her hand down his cheek as she moved her thigh against his erection.

"I can't Gill," he tried desperately.

"Then I will," she said , and without hesitation, pushed herself up so that she came to rest astride his thighs, his erection pressed firmly between them. A look of hunger coupled with pain passed over his face and she quickly reached for the hem of her make-shift night shirt, pulling it over her head so that she was now naked with the exception of her panties.

She leaned forward, supporting herself with her palms on either side of his head and lowered herself until her mouth was inches from his. His breathing was hard and shallow and she saw the muscles in his jaw twitch as fear and uncertainty warred with raw need.

Need won.

His hands reached up and twined in the hair at the base of her neck, drawing her down forcefully to his lips. There was no introduction, no initiation; simply the hard play of his mouth against hers, his tongue demanding access to her body. She met his demand with her own, her tongue darting out eagerly to stroke his, tasting and caressing in an inelegant battle for possession.

He let his hands wander, roaming wildly over every inch of the smooth skin of her back before gliding around her ribs to cup both of her breasts. He tested their weight against his palm and hummed in wordless approval as his thumbs grazed her nipples. She whimpered softly against his mouth as he took both taut peaks between a thumb and forefinger and pinched roughly. He delighted at how she seemed to enjoy his coarse touch, and he drew her swollen lower lip between his teeth, even more pleased when she trembled against him.

She leaned back on her heels, urging him to raise his hips as she tugged at the waist of his pajama bottoms. He lifted for her and she slid the fabric over him, his cock springing free as she gazed down at him with a wide eyed look of pure hunger. She leaned forward again, pushing up his shirt as her lips came to rest against his abdomen. She opened her mouth against him, drawing flesh between her teeth before she soothed the spot with her tongue. Her mouth slowly followed the sparse trail of dark hair that led from his navel to his groin, the ends of her hair brushing over his erection as he held his breath, anticipating her next touch. He felt her warm breath against him and couldn't stop the small sound of disappointment that escaped him as her weight suddenly left him.

Dismayed, he looked up to find that she was busy pushing her panties over her hips and he quickly took advantage, rolling over and pinning her to the bed as he helped divest her of that last article of her clothing. He pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside as he nestled between her thighs, supporting himself on his elbows as he covered her nakedness with his own. He stroked the slightly sweat-dampened hair away from her face and buried himself in her neck, his lips seeking out the tender flesh at her pulse point as she twisted to allow him access. Her hips moving beneath him as she opened wider, placing her heels on the backs of his thighs so that he felt moist heated flesh brush against him. His breath left him in a gasp and his hands fisted in the sheets beside her head. He risked moving his hips slightly and as the tip of his cock brushed against her and she whimpered softly in the back of her throat, a sound that sent even more blood rushing to his already impossibly engorged member.

He took her earlobe between his teeth, growling low in his throat as he tugged playfully at the tender flesh. She twisted her hips beneath him, her nails raking across his shoulders and he wondered how much longer he could possibly make this last when he already felt as though his body was being pulled into hers.

"Cal, "she whispered breathlessly against his ear.

"Don't you dare tell me you want to stop now," he groaned, lifting his head to meet her eyes.

"Never," she said seriously, her hand sliding behind his neck.

"What is it, love?"

"Shouldn't we…I mean, the women you've been with…I hate to bring it up but…" she trailed off, waiting for him to connect the dots.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the fog of arousal as her words hit home. "Of course, darling. I mean, I'm always careful but you're right, better safe than sorry." He reached for the stand next to his bed, rummaging around for a moment before his hand re-emerged with a square foil packet.

He sat up on his knees, using his teeth to tear the packet open. He was surprised when Gillian sat up and snatched the packet from him, her empty hand darting out to grasp his shaft as she looked up at him.

"I want to do this," she said in a sultry voice as she placed the condom over the tip of his cock, using the circle of her index finger and thumb to roll it snuggly over him as she held his eyes with hers. When she had finished, she took his hand and placed it between her thighs.

"Can you feel how much I want you?" she asked softly.

He could. With her thighs open to him, he could feel her swollen lips, wet with the sheen of her juices, sliding beneath his fingertips. He could smell the heady scent of her arousal and imagined the taste of her against his tongue.

With an impatient growl, he pushed her back on the bed, taking his cock in his hand as he positioned himself against her, stroking his thick shaft against her clit as her hands clutched at his arms. He held his hips back as he moved up her body. He found her mouth as his hand came to rest behind her head, his thumb stroking the side of her throat as he moved slightly between her thighs, pushing just inside her as he waited a moment for her body to relax and accept his intimate invasion.

She pulled her knees up, locking her ankles at the small of his back as she pressed her heels into him, urging him to move.

His tongue dipped into her mouth as he pressed forward and up, twisting his hips slightly from side to side to make his way deeper inside her. He withdrew slowly, making sure the condom was securely in place before he slammed into her with a harsh grunt, forcing her to release his lips as she moaned in pleasure. He raised himself so that he was supported by his palms against the mattress and set up a slow and steady rhythm. Her warm tight heat closed over him again and again and he realized he'd never been more thankful for the slightly decreased sensitivity forced upon him by a condom.

As his muscles began to tremble with effort, he picked up the pace. She rolled her hips, meeting him stroke for stroke as his heavy breathing, her strangled groans, and the flat sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the room.

He watched from above as her face tightened in concentration, her head rolling from side to side as the sweet sensations radiating out from her sex built up pressure from within. He slowed his pace, making his thrusts deeper and angling his hips so that his body slid against her clit. He could tell immediately that his slight change of position gave her more of what she needed. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his upper arms convulsively as she grasped at the edge of release.

"Please Cal, don't stop, I'm going to come," she panted.

Her words set him on fire and he pressed into her harder, muscles burning with effort as her legs tightened around him. They were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their breaths coming in harsh gasps. When he thought he would faint if he didn't come soon, she finally cried out his name in a high thin voice that made his balls draw up, forcing hot fluid from his body with convulsions of agonizing pleasure as Gillian came beneath him, her inner walls fluttering around his cock as her body contracted in the throes of intense orgasm.

He collapsed on top of her, a strangled wordless sound torn from his throat as he continued to pulse within her. Slowly, her cries calmed to muted whimpers and hands that had clutched at him desperately dropped limply from his shoulders as she drew deep, ragged breaths.

Reluctantly he reached between their bodies, securing the condom as he withdrew, wincing at the loss of her warmth. He quickly disposed of the mess and pulled her against him despite the fact that his body was overheated.

He stroked her face and she met his eyes, her lids heavy with post coital exhaustion. He lowered his head, his lips meeting hers with a tenderness that had been lost in his earlier passions.

"Cal, can I ask you something?" Her voice was tentative.

"Anything," he urged.

She hesitated. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he replied without thought.

"I'm sorry, what I mean to say is, are you in love with me?" she clarified. In the silence she swore she could hear the beating of his heart.

"Yeah," he said quietly, and the space of that tiny single syllable contained so many different emotions, she had trouble sorting them all out.

"So much fear," she said, not meaning to speak the words aloud. "What are you so afraid of Cal?" she asked sadly.

"I think the better question when it comes to you, love, is what am I not afraid of?" he admitted.

"And if I said I loved you, and that you'd have to trust me?" she pushed.

He examined her face, and she saw hope begin to edge out despair. "I'd say, tell me again. And if that doesn't work, just keep telling me. It will sink in eventually." He smiled.

She looked at him seriously. "I love you, Cal."

"Mmmmm…nah, not convinced." He kissed her quickly. "You'll just have to keep trying."

"I think I can do that." She was quiet for a moment. "Did you say something about dessert earlier?"

"Seriously?" he asked incredulously.

"I never joke about dessert Cal." She moved from his arms, searching for his polo shirt in the dim light.

"I'm sure I can round up something. Now that you mention it I am a bit peckish; feel like I've just run a marathon." He winked at her as he pulled on his pajama bottoms.

"You'll definitely need your strength," she tossed at him flirtatiously.

"Really?" He was a bit stunned by her implication.

"Didn't I mention I like second helpings almost as much as I like dessert?"

"You naughty girl," he purred, folding her into his arms. "I'm so glad it won't take a scary movie to get you to come crawling into my bed from now on."

"After that, I think the bigger problem is going to be getting out of bed to get any work done from now on." She stroked her fingers down his spine and he moaned against her.

"Come on," he pulled her toward the doorway. "The sooner I can get dessert in you, the sooner we can get back to bed."

"Who says we need to go back to bed? I've always rather admired your countertops." She chuckled as he nearly tripped.

Ok, hope you had fun. Its not my best fic but I wasn't trying for a literary masterpiece. Thanks for reading and dropa review if ya feel like it.

Quick Authors note. Threw something in here that is almost universally absent from Cal/ Gillian fic but that I often see in other fandoms. SAFE SEX! Lets face it, Cal's a bit of a whore and if I was Gillian, I wouldn't take any chances, especially with Wallowski lurking about. She's kind of skeezy. LOL...just a little something to shake things up.