Normal Disclaimers apply
This last month had been exhausting for both of them and contained an ungodly amount of paperwork, yet there was no end in sight. The list of things to do before they finally made their way to the Peruvian Amazon was seemingly endless. Gear needed to be bought, injections had, lives packed away, apartments left, flights needed to be booked, contacts needed to be made, backup plans needed to be put in place, languages needed to be learnt. And to top it all off it didn't seem real, it all felt like a blur, the fact that in a week Gillian would be packing her bags and heading to the rainforest for six months with her best friend hadn't sunk in. Not that she hadn't taken steps, she'd left her part time job, had packed up and left her apartment that afternoon and all but moved into Cal's office. But somehow this felt like some cruel joke, one last set up that the cosmos would surely pull away from her at the last possible moment and leave her with nothing. But this was Cal – infuriatingly, always there, even when she doesn't need or want him to be, Cal – there was no way he'd let that happen.
And here they were having collapsed onto the sofa, Gillian at one end with her legs curled underneath her and Cal sitting squarely in the middle, an unmoveable physical presence, always brushing against her in someway. Grounding she labelled it, it certainly wasn't inappropriate or unwelcomed, just solid. Both were quiet and lost in thought, each nursing a glass of scotch. Cal's head lay on the back of the sofa, eyes closed, seemingly happy to just be; Gillian was looking around his living room – or was it theirs now? – adorned with a strange combination of his and her belongings.
About two thirds of the way through her glass, Gillian started to panic. She'd moved in with Cal – into his tiny one bedroom apartment. This started the beginning of not having any space from him for the next six months, and frankly that was terrifying. There would be no calm respite, no lazy days to herself, she'd be left with the crazy, intense buzz of energy that Cal carried around with him always, like a coiled spring. It was only after she'd given up her own space did she realise just how much she craved it, she'd given up stability for something that might not pay off. She wasn't ready, oh God, I'm not ready for this.
No matter how much she hoped that Cal wouldn't notice her increasing state of panic, the man read micro-expressions for a living and she was definitely projecting panic through her whole body. As if reading her mind, Cal blindly reached out and landed a hand on her knee, stroking downward to end with a squeeze at her foot, his head twisted towards her but his eyelids remained closed.
"You're panicking pretty loudly over there. What's wrong?" his voice a low rumble, soothing.
"It's nothing." Gillian winced, her voice sounded weak and reedy, hitching halfway through. Great, now he's not going to leave it alone.
He's eyes snapped open, concern etched around his eyes. "Foster, you can tell me…"
"Promise me you won't launch into a lecture," she mumbled looking into her glass, "please just respect what I'm feeling."
He was visibly wriggling, trying to figure out what was bothering his best friend, who even in her own misery looked gorgeous, NOT the time, Cal. Finally managing to get control of himself, he lent forward, almost resting on Gillian's knees, got a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look him in the eyes. Oh great, she's almost crying, way to bollix this up so early – you haven't even left yet. Or shared the apartment for 12 hours. Smooth, Lightman.
"Gillian, luv, whatever it is, you can tell me. We're going to be together for the best part of six months, telling half truths will be the death of us."
He sounded so sincere that it made her feel even worse about her doubts, she broke eye contact, squeezing her eyelids shut willing her tears to not fall.
"I have doubts too, luv. D'you want me to start?" His head was ducking as much as possible to keep eye contact with her. An imperceptible head movement, which he took for a nod and he continued, "I'm terrified that I've messed this up, not left us with enough time to prepare. I don't care so much what happens to me, I own this place, so I'm safe even if I come back stone cold broke. But I'm very, very aware that I'm not the only one relying on this. You've given up so much more to do this than me, your apartment, your job. You've placed your future in my hands, your faith in my science and I'm terrified that I'll fail you. But, despite all of that fear, I'm excited. I get to go and solidify my science, and I get to do it with my best friend."
The tears that had threaten to fall before were now falling freely, though they had transformed from those born of panic to those born out of shocked joy. Of course Cal was thinking ahead, of course he was scared, but being the emotionally stunted shell of a man that his divorce had made him, he had simply neglected to show her. She sniffed, wiping away her tears, calmed by his admittance. She was, however, annoyed at him for hiding this from her, annoyed that he felt the need to be strong for her. She nearly snapped at him until she realised that, equally hurt by the recent demise of her marriage, she had done the same thing. This partnership thing obviously needed work.
"I wasn't trying to make you cry, darlin', I was trying to get you to stop!" Cal exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.
Gillian chuckled at this, "They're happy tears, Cal," his head cocked, confused, "I thought I was the only one having doubts. I don't feel like I'm ready, intellectually or emotionally. It's all been a blur, and I was scared that you were just rushing into this and that I was being swept along with it. I just realised that we're going to be in contact almost constantly for six months and the idea that I couldn't show you what I'm feeling, that I would have to hide that in order to protect my best friend? That almost broke me."
Cal said nothing, but nodded thoughtfully. He pulled Gillian gently so that she settled against his side, holding her close. Kissing the top of her head he spoke into her hair, "I'm sorry, Gillian. You're right, of course. If this is going to work in the long term we have to be comfortable in telling each other how it is. Not just as friends but as business and science partners. If it's ever a choice between truth and happiness you know where I stand."
"Truth or happiness, never both," Gillian mocked, "You're such a cynic, Cal. We can have both, if we're honest."
A squeeze served as her answer. In some respects he was much more like the monkeys they were planning on studying – more reliant on physicality than words.
"Use your words," Gillian sing-songed, almost laughing again, her panic all but forgotten.
The arm not wrapped around Gillian's shoulders flapped around a bit and he pulled a pained face, making her laugh more so. He could feel the vibrations of her trying to hold it back against his side and cocked his head to the side to see her face, smiling softly.
"I'm glad you're coming with me, luv."
The air hung, still and heavy around them, making it hard to move, like they were trapped in amber. The emotional release having removed the shoulder clenching tension of underlying panic, had replaced it with a blanket-like warmth, one that made all movement seem unnecessary. Both of them revelled in the feeling that had been oh, so absent in recent months, bringing them closer together, adding more blocks to their friendship.
Minutes passed and slowly that blanket of silence started to become awkward, the need to break it became almost painful, yet neither of them wanted to be the first to speak. It was Gillian that broke first, not vocally but she abruptly sat up and headed towards the kitchen.
Cal looked bemused, following her with his eyes before finally calling out, "Oi! Foster, what you doing in my kitchen?!"
"Ice cream!" came the disembodied reply.
"Ice cream." Cal mutters to himself in disbelief before raising his voice, "But we've got scotch! What do you need ice cream for?"
"Oh, Cal. When do I need an excuse for ice cream?" she said returning to the living room with a carton of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food, spoons and bowls. She settled back at her end, legs crossed before divvying up her ill-gotten gains. He accepts the smaller bowl with reverence, as you would from a child, laughing at the child-like manner with which Gillian dived into hers.
Despite his bowl being smaller, he ate his in the same time it took Gillian to devour three, her scotch slowly being nursed in the interim between each bowl. The slow burn a glorious contrast to the icy cold, the combination of which soon had them both slipping into a state of sleep. It was only when Cal fell asleep briefly only to bolt awake when his bowl shattered on the floor. The magic of ice cream and scotch had been dispelled and the two friends rushed to clean up the mess.
After clearing everything up, Cal stood awkwardly in his kitchen, not quite sure what to do with himself. Of course she's not his guest any more so he should stop hovering, but it's her first night in their space and he wants her to feel comfortable.
"Um, Gillian, luv?"
She makes eye contact and smiles, "Yes, Cal?"
"You got everything you need? I was just gonna head to bed," He gestures behind him and trails off.
"Yes, I'll be fine thank you. I'll see you in the morning."
He nodded and stalked out of the kitchen.
"Oh, and Cal?" Gillian called to his back.
He leant round the kitchen door, so only his head and shoulders were visible, "Yes, luv?"
"I'm really glad you asked me to go with you."
That crooked smile lit up his face.
"Me too, luv. Me too."
TBC
A/N: Reviews are always welcome, let me know what you think!
