Cal shook his head and took another sip of his wine as he glanced through Emily's homework. Bloody hell, calculus had gotten harder. Em was a bight kid though so the chances were that she had it right.

"Hey Dad?" she called from the kitchen, bringing in the rest of the bottle of wine he was drinking.

"Yes love." He didn't look from her work, pretending to be still looking through it.

"You can stop pretending to check my homework now, I know you don't understand it." Cal flipped over the cover on the book and slid it across the table towards the rest of her books.

"Thanks for putting me out of my misery." Emily smiled and sat down next to him, taking a sip from her glass of water.

"Does Gillian know you see fireworks when you look at her?" The sheer suddenness of her question startled Cal. She didn't even try to beat around the bush, just come straight out with it and now he was wondering if his daughter was in fact more intelligent than he gave her credit for. He reasoned with himself, she did come from good stock after all.

"Why do you ask?" he replied warily.

"Just curious." Emily lied and Cal shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm sure she knows love. She knows more than she lets on." He took another sip from his wine and reached forward to the bottle to top up his glass.

"Can I've some?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, your mum'd love that. Sixteen year old fed wine by her father. Dream on, love." He took another mouthful of wine.

"I just want a taste. Mom's let me before." Cal was about to launch into a tirade as to why he wasn't going to allow it but her last sentence stopped him.

"Has she?"

"She's not as conservative as you Dad." Cal's eyebrows raised again.

"I'm not conservative. And of all the things I'd call your mum, conservative definitely isn't one of them…" If Emily had been Foster, or anyone else from the office, she'd have seen Cal's eyes light up momentarily, remembering some long passed moment from earlier days, but it was gone too quickly for Emily to spot. He pushed the wine glass towards her and she took a sip, her face contorting in disgust as she lapsed into a coughing fit.

"It's rotten isn't it?" he grinned.

"You drink it."

"Only because there's no scotch in this house." Emily stood up, still coughing, running out of the room toward the bathroom. Cal chuckled to himself. If his main achievement as a parent was to keep his daughter teetotal he'd be satisfied enough. Now that he had another spare minute, he flipped open his laptop again, punching in the password and pulling up the images he had shown Emily earlier. He flicked through them again, his face giving nothing away. He minimised the window and opened another folder just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Emily yelled from somewhere out in the hallway. Cal nodded and pulled the images back up.

"Make sure you know who it is before you open the door." The last thing he wanted was another stray kid or psycho who'd managed to find his address online.

Emily had only just gotten the taste of red wine from her mouth when the doorbell rang. Calling out to her father she made her way to the door and looked through the peephole.

"It's Gillian," she called back to Cal.

Cal's eyes widened but he stood up and moved to the door next his daughter. He opened the door and was sorry he did because with Emily standing next to him they looked like the archetypal American family, opening the door together and smiling. Gillian raised an eyebrow and said as much.

"Wow Cal, really embracing the American customs aren't you?" Cal rolled his eyes up to heaven.

"Well it is nearly the 4th of July," Emily piped in before gagging slightly. Cal turned to her, worried.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I think it's the wine…" his daughter replied before running off upstairs. Gillian frowned at Cal.

"You gave her wine?"

"She wanted a taste!"

"How much of a taste?"

"She only took a sip! Here, make yourself at home, I'll be down in a minute eh?" He was halfway up the stairs after Emily before Gillian even got the chance to reply. Raising her eyebrows to herself she walked through to the living room where she saw the offending glass of wine next to Cal's laptop, open on a picture of he and Emily. She moved closer and looked at it, smiling at the look on each of their faces, exhilaration on Emily's and pure love on Cal's. She drew her attention to the brain image beside it and it confirmed the emotion she'd read on Cal's face.

Glancing down to the bottom of the laptop, she bit her lip. There were other images. This was a hideous disregard for Cal's privacy but she couldn't help herself. She clicked the touchpad.

Zoe. Minimal brain activity. A small hint of arousal but after that nothing much. She clicked again and took a deep breath. A photo of her, taken from her employee records. And the brain imagery was lit up like a Christmas tree. Strong emotion, she would hazard a guess that a photo of him would trigger the same reaction in her own brain. Reaching down she took Cal's wine and swallowed a mouthful of it. It was slightly bitter but nice. She hit the touchpad again.

Cal and his father. She'd seen this picture before. What she hadn't seen was the brain imagery with it: contempt, disappointment, confusion, a touch of anger. She smiled sadly. She was about to move the images back to the beginning and hope that Cal wouldn't read her misdemeanour off her face when she heard him clear his throat behind her.

Wincing, she didn't turn around.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Round about the time you flicked quickly off of Zoe." Gillian turned around to face him.

"Cal, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…it was just there and…" Cal held up his hand and walked over to her, reaching behind her to pick up his wine glass.

"Don't worry about it. You're not seeing anything you didn't already know." He shrugged and held up the bottle of wine, silently offering her a glass. She nodded and he moved to the kitchen.

"Is Emily ok?" She was desperately trying to change the subject.

"She'll be fine. She's now allergic to red wine which, if she's anything like her mother, will be very beneficial to her in the long run." Gillian chuckled, though she was glad Cal couldn't see that tiny flash of contempt on her face. He probably knew it was there anyway.

He came out of the kitchen carrying her glass of red wine, the last of the bottle and a bowl of peanuts.

"Sorry luv, only nibbles we've got in the house." Gillian waved her hand and took the glass of wine from him. He sat down at the corner of the table, almost next to her.

"So, what brings you to the Lightman residence at this hour?" Gillian took a sip of her wine and opened her handbag. Pulling the photo she'd found earlier from her bag, she held it up to him. His face contorted into an emotion he didn't hold long enough for Gillian to read.

"This," she said solemnly.

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