A/N: This idea kind of popped into my head last night while I was drifting off, and I decided to try and translate it into a fic. Just a bit of fluff taking place after the end of episode 3x01. Sequel potential if enough people want it. Hope you enjoy!
It was 2:36 a.m. and Gillian Foster was in the middle of a deep sleep. So, needless to say, she was more than a little unhappy to be shaken back to consciousness by the man she was currently furious with.
"Oi, Fostah! Wakey, wakey, rise n' shine, an' all that," Cal said, shaking her shoulder until she finally mustered the strength to swat his hand away.
"Caaaal," she groaned, stuffing her head beneath her pillow, "Go away," she demanded, her voice muffled by the fluff covering her head.
"Absolutely not, love, we hafta talk," he insisted. "Come on now, up ya get."
Reluctantly and with a look of pure venom on her typically serene face, Gillian sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "How'd you get in here, anyway?"
"You gave me a key. Remembah?" he asked with his trademark smug grin.
"That was for emergencies," she said with a glare, "Is someone dying?" she arched an eyebrow, and, reading the confusion on his face, deduced that no such thing was happening, "Then it's not an emergency. Go home and let me sleep." She laid back down, but he wasn't having it.
"Come on, love, humah me, will ya?" he pleaded, tickling at her sides until she shot up again.
"CAL!" she couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "That isn't fair."
"All's fair in love an' war, dahlin," he shot back, a triumphant grin on his face.
"So we're at war now?" she asked, her expression instantly hardening.
"Gill," he began, an apologetic look on his face, trying to indicate he hadn't meant it that way, "Come on, I couldn't sleep, an' I-"
"You decided I shouldn't, either?" she interrupted, "Where's your little detective friend? Didn't let her stay the night?"
"Hey now, there's no need fah that," he said, "We went an' had a drink, but I couldn't stop thinkin'…you know, 'bout wot I said, an' all that…"
"Oh my god," she said, an amused look spreading across her features, "You're actually feeling guilty. Cal Lightman, Mr. High and Mighty himself, feeling guilty?" she let out a sarcastic laugh, "This is one for the books. Or for, you know, the book that's still in your head." she quipped, crossing her arms, "Why are you really here, Cal?"
"You know why, love," he replied, his eyes boring into hers.
"Say it."
"I'm here because I…bloody hell, love, have I really gotta say it? You're quite intelligent, you know, I'm sure you've figuhed it out by now…"
"Say it, Cal."
He let out a deep sigh, taking her hand, "I'm sorry," he finally conceded, "I shouldn't 'ave acted that way. I shouldn't 'ave said those things to you, you didn't deserve 'em. Alrigh'?" he said sincerely.
"You're damn right you shouldn't have," she said, staring at him, a mixture of sadness and anger on her face. He couldn't always read her as well as he'd have liked, but he saw that clearly now. He hated that he was the cause of her feeling that way. "You're arrogant, Cal. And you're stubborn. You don't appreciate me, and I'm sick and tired of feeling like a second-class citizen in a company I'm supposed to be a partner in, and you-"
"You're righ', love," he broke into her rant with three simple words that made her stop her speech in its tracks, "I take you fah granted. I know what you do. I know this 'ole company'd be nuffin' if I didn't 'ave you. You're every bit my equal, dahlin, an' I'd be lost without ya. 'Ow's that for an apology, eh?" he asked, a grin returning to his face.
Gillian was unable to stop herself from smiling at that, "Pretty good for an arrogant ass," she replied.
"Oi!" he exclaimed with a laugh, placing his hands on either side of her neck, just below her ears, and resting his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes, "Am I fahgiven, then?" he asked, more seriously.
She leaned forward and placed a quick, gentle kiss on his lips, "You are," she replied softly, "But if you ever threaten our relationship over money again, I'll kill you." she said seriously, though there was a slight grin tugging at the corners of her lips.
"You don' 'afta worry 'bout that, love," he told her, capturing her lips with his own again, lingering a bit longer this time.
Gillian felt her breath, along with any conscious thought, leave her. "Cal," she began in a whisper, but he interrupted her with another kiss.
"Shush now, love. We need our beauty sleep," he teased, "Can I stay the night?" All she could do was nod, and he kicked off his shoes and laid his coat on the floor while she lifted the covers to let him in. "Shorts, Fostah?" he asked, amused by her pink and green plaid flannel sleepwear.
"Shut up, Cal," she said with a laugh, snuggling beneath the blankets and laying on her side, facing away from him. His arms made their way around her and he spooned her, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.
"Night, love."
"Goodnight, Cal," she replied, as she placed her hand on top of the one of his that was resting on her stomach and interlocked their fingers, their legs entwined.
They both knew that all their problems couldn't be worked out by a simple apology and a few kisses, but whatever it took, they also knew their growing affection and love for one another would be strong enough to help them through it.