Hey guys! It's been a while and I still miss LTM like crazy :(
Some of you may have already read this first chapter as it's an old one-shot that I'm now continuing on with. There should be a few more chapters after this one. So thanks for those of you who have stuck around thanks for the support! I really appreciate it! :)

This story will start with with a T rating but the rating will jump to M by the third chapter. Just warning y'all.
Cheers, B

1. Sophie

Sitting at his desk, Cal picked up his cell and called her number. It was past midday and she still hadn't checked in. He hadn't seen or heard from her all day which was very unlike Gillian. Maybe something had come up with Sophie and she had forgotten to call in. He could remember what is was like when Emily was a baby; running around out of your element trying to do a million things at once.

Waiting a moment, he heard Gillian's voicemail answer. "Hey love, it's me. Just checking in. Call me when you can," he said before hanging up.

She had probably meant to call but just been side tracked he thought; a smile tugged at his lips as he thought of her nursing a sleeping Sophie in her arms.

She was a natural; motherhood definitely suited her. She had a radiant glow about her. Mothering was second nature to Gillian, and after all the pain that she and Alec had gone through, trying to conceive, he was happy for her. Happy that she was finally able to have the family she yearned for, that she deserved. Even if it was with Alec, he thought bitterly.

Cal remembered all the times Emily would come into the office. She would run and greet Gillian, rather than come into see him first. He chucked lightly to himself. At times he felt Gillian was more of a mother figure then Zoe had been. Of course Zoe loved Em; he never doubted that. However, there was something about Gillian; her warmth, the way she was able to love unconditionally. The way she made everything seem alright, and how she had taken to Emily instantly, treating her as if she were her own. He was grateful Emily had someone like Gillian, and he knew Emily adored her.

Cal remembered coming home from the office one night to an extremely annoyed Zoe. Apparently Emily had to write about what she wanted to be when she grew up for a project in school and she happened to write Gillian. Not a psychologist or doctor, but she had written that she wanted to grow up to be 'Miss Gillian Foster'. Cal couldn't hide his amused expression, which in turn, led to a fight between him and Zoe about how Emily was her daughter and not Gillian's, and that she had forbade her to come to the office anymore. He remembered that fight was especially nasty as he tried to keep the peace but he felt compelled to stand up for Gillian. She had done nothing to deserve the attack from Zoe. He remembered spending the next week in the guest bedroom.

A week or so later, Gillian had inquired as to why Emily hadn't been around. He had made up some story about Zoe wanting to spend more quality time with her. He would never forget the look in Gillian's eyes when he told her, how she tried to hide the hurt. She knew it was more than that; she knew he had just lied to her, and she knew that she was somehow the reason.

Shaking his head slightly, he pushed those thoughts aside. If she hadn't called in by the end of the day, he would pop by her place on the way home just to see if she needed anything. If he was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that it was a good excuse to see Gillian in her element, nursing her beautiful baby girl.

Kicking his feet off the desk, he jammed his cell into his pocket. Checking his emails to see if he'd received any form her, all he found was the usual requests, but nothing from Gillian. Sighing to himself, he pushed in his chair before sauntering off in search of Loker.

It was mid-evening and Cal fidgeted nervously with his cell. He hadn't heard from Gillian all day and that wasn't like her at all. Switching off his computer, he walked out of his office, trying her cell once again. Expecting it to ring, he was surprised when it went straight to voicemail. Gillian never turned her phone off, ever, he thought worriedly. Making his way to the car, he wasted no time as he tore out of the parking lot, and headed towards her house. Gripping the steering wheel tightly he tried to calm himself. He told himself that he was more than likely overreacting to the situation, that everything was perfectly fine; however, an uneasy feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach.

Speeding through the streets of D.C, he pulled onto Gillian's street twenty minutes later, not caring that he just violated several laws as he rushed to her house. Pulling the car to a stop in front, he saw her car parked in the drive way. Her house clouded in darkness, he couldn't see a single light coming from the windows, which he thought was strange.

Cal jogged up to the front door and listened for movement. Hearing nothing, he gently knocked and waited a moment. Becoming anxious, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his keys, finding the brightly coloured orange one that Gillian had 'especially made for him' in case of emergencies, she had said with a small smile. Slipping the key into the lock, he noted that is wasn't locked and opened the door, entering the darkened confines of her home. Everything looked in order as he walked down the hallway, flicking on a light as he went. He observed the washing basket at the bottom of the staircase, neatly folded baby clothing in it, and smiled to himself.

He moved further into the house, and in walking past the kitchen, he peered in. Cal noticed the dishes were still on the table, food left unfinished on them. He saw the baby bottles strewn about on the floor haphazardly, but what caught his attention the most was the smell of stale scotch. Switching on the light, he found the source. Broken shards of glass littered the floor, and a sizable mark was left on the wall from where he assumed the bottle had struck. His heart hammered against his chest, as he spotted a few drops of blood on the floor. Christ, what the hell happened here?

Instinct kicking in, he ran up the stairs to Gillian's bedroom but found it empty. He stopped for moment and heard a soft whimper coming in the direction of the nursery. He approached cautiously, listening for any other sounds, as he tried to make sense of the situation.

The nursery door was slightly ajar, and he gave it a gentle nudge as he opened it fully. There was a small night light in the corner which cast soft shadows over the room, letting his eyes adjust and spot a crumpled up figure leaning against the crib. He could recognise her anywhere, he thought. Gillian had her knees pulled tightly to her chest, clutching onto a pink baby blanket. She stared motionlessly at the wall in front of her.

"Gill," he called softly, hoping to break her trance. His eyes roamed over her face, he could see they were red rimmed and bloodshot. Her cheeks were stained from tears that had fallen earlier.

Fear griped his middle instantly. Crouching down beside her, he tried again.

"Love, are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Gillian's gaze shifted from the wall to Cal for a brief moment, as she gave a slight shake of her head in response, before staring blankly at her lap.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, pull her into a bone crushing embrace, but stopped himself. "Love, where's Alec?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral as he watched her closely.

"Out," she stated simply, her voice void of emotion. Cal watched as a brief glimmer of emotion flickered across her features. Her eyes narrowed and as her jaw clenched tightly.

Cal balled his hands into fists at his side, trying to suppress the anger he felt for the man she called her husband. He looked into the crib and found it empty.

"Gill, where's Sophie?" he probed gently. He silently prayed that Alec didn't have her.

"Gone," she whispered, her voice wavering.

Cal looked at her, confusion evident on his features. "Gone?" he repeated. "Does Alec have her?" he asked quietly.

"No," she told him bitterly. "She's with her mother."

He watched as tears pooled in her eyes and realisation dawned upon him. Reaching out, he gathered her in his arms and pulled her into his lap.

"I'm so sorry, love. God Gill, I'm so sorry." He whispered softly into her hair, stroking her back as he felt her body shake uncontrollably.

She let the tears fall, coming undone the moment his strong arms wrap. Closing her eyes tightly, shutting out the world, she clutched to his shirt. Burying her face into his chest, she soaked the material in seconds.

He rocked her gently and heard her gasping for air.

He felt her breathing become shallow and he stilled their movement, gently cupping her cheeks.

"Deep breaths, love," he told her gently.

"That's it, that's my girl." He quietly encouraged as she slowed her breathing. His thumbs caressed her tear stained cheeks, and he placed delicate kisses to each eye lid, as if doing so would somehow ease her pain.

The pain of having her daughter taken from her.

The pain of losing something that could never be replaced.

He knew it was foolish to think he could take it away, but if he could, he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him through glassy eyes.

He could see the anguish on her face, the sadness in her eyes, and his heart broke.

She moved her arms to encircle his neck, and rested her forehead against his.

"They called over the weekend. They took her last night," she told him softly, her voice cracking. "They took my daughter. Alec and I got into a fight. He couldn't handle it, so he left. HE LEFT, Cal," she cried, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Who does that? He left me here. He left and he didn't even say goodbye to her. He said he couldn't. He couldn't say goodbye to our fucking daughter." She sobbed as her body trembled violently.

Cal held her, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. She didn't deserve this; she deserved so much more, he thought angrily. He couldn't believe Alec had left her here, to deal with it on her own. He should have been here for her. Why hadn't she called him? Why hadn't he come earlier?

Cal was brought out of his thoughts when she tightened her hold around his neck. Shifting in his lap, he suppressed a moan deep in his throat.

Placing a soft kiss to his lips, she looked down at him. "Please, Cal. Make it stop," she pleaded, kissing him again, letting her tongue briefly trace over his lips.

"Make it go away," she whimpered softly, before leaning in and capturing his lips. There was nothing tender in her kiss; she needed to feel something, anything other than the agonizing ache that was currently surging through her body.

She knew it was wrong, knew what she was doing wasn't right. Her best friend; the one man she could always count on, was here comforting her, instead of the man she married.

Cal's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected this response, however he parted his lips briefly and let his tongue brush against hers. She shifted in his lap, causing him to groan into her mouth.

Tearing his lips away from hers, he took a second to catch his breath. "Gill, stop. This isn't you." He told her gently, his strong hands at the nape of her neck.

She moved her hand from around his neck, and raked her nails down his chest. Feeling the muscles quiver beneath her touch. She reached the belt buckle, fumbling slightly as she shakily dipped her fingers into the waistband of his pants, grazing the sensitive skin there.

"Cal, please," she begged. "Make it stop. Just make it stop." she cried, as ears slipped down her checks. Through blurry eyes, she crushed her lips to his roughly.

He instantly opened his mouth to her, tasting her tears as their tongues danced. He could feel her hand move further into his pants, moaning loudly when she wrapped her delicate fingers around his length.

Releasing her lips, he removed the hand that had twined in her hair and lightly grasped her wrist, stilling her movements. He gently tugged at her wrist until he felt her release him. If it were anyone else, he would let it continue; but not Gillian. He respected and cared for her too much. He loved her and couldn't let her do this. She was hurting, and as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't let it go any further.

Sighing softly, he pulled her close.

She buried herself into the crook of his neck as sobs racked through her small frame. She felt so fragile wrapped in his arms, and he was scared that the slightest movement would break her.

Gillian curled into him, clutching him tightly. "I'm sorry." She sobbed softly.

"Shhh, darling. You've got nothing to apologise for." He whispered into her hair, while stroking her back gently.

Gathering her into his arms, he stood, holding her tightly to his chest. He walked them into her bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, watching as she curled up on her side. He pulled the quilt up and covered her shaking form.

"Sleep, love. I'll just be down stairs," he whispered, softly placing a kiss to her check. Turning to leave, he felt her small hand grasp his wrist tightly. Looking back, he found her staring back up at him, her eyes puffy and filled with unshed tears.

"Stay," she pleaded, her voice thick with emotion. "Please."

Nodding slightly, he agreed. "Of course."

He watched her shuffle over, making room for him to lie next to her. He moved slowly, hesitantly lying beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and felt her relax against him. After a few minutes, he felt her breathing even out and placed a soft kiss to the back of her head.

"Don't leave me," she mumbled softly as she drifted off into a restless sleep.

Cal swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and held her tighter as he rested his head against her shoulder.

"I'll always be here, love. Always."

Comments always appreciated :)