Stupid, insane, foolhardy, reckless… she could think of any number of adjectives to describe what she'd let happen – somehow, and it wasn't at all clear how, she'd let Cal Lightman maneuver her into a friendly game of 'truth or dare' in her office, as they'd savored a drink at the end of a long case. Well, a few drinks.
It had begun as decompression after two days spent at a prestigious private women's college trying to determine if a visiting professor had, in fact, traded grades for sexual favors. Not remotely challenging to Cal, of course, and she'd teased him about seizing any excuse to spend a few days interviewing attractive – if rather serious – young students.
"Wish I'd known you at university, Foster," Cal had said, watching her as he sipped his whiskey – they were both on the second drink; the first had gone down all at once.
"Oh?" She smiled and raised her eyebrows, inviting more.
"Yeah – you know, you're always so… restrained, it would have been fun to know you before you developed that flawless shrink façade you lug about all day," he said, gesturing impatiently at her face. "Not that it does much good round here, of course, but you know what I mean, yeah?"
"I don't know, Cal, I wasn't much of a wild co-ed even back then," she replied, rolling her eyes slightly, then glancing at her lap rather than back at him.
"Well, now, that's interesting," he said, flashing his eyebrows at her with a grin, "because I'm pretty sure you just thought of something I'd very much like to know about." His grin widened, becoming crooked.
"I can't imagine what you're talking about," she answered, shrugging her shoulder.
"Gillian. How is it possible that we've worked together for seven – eight? – years, and you've learned absolutely nothing about how to disguise a lie? Hmm?" He leaned forward, pulling his feet from her desk. "I'd honestly like to know, darling," he added, watching her intently.
She regarded him for a moment, then her gaze flickered for a moment again. "Does it ever occur to you that I don't actually try, Cal? That I make a choice to be honest with you, even when I'm lying?" Her blue eyes fixed him with more intensity than usual.
Cal sat back, with a familiar expression – brows furrowed, mouth slightly open, fingers steepled together. Gillian recognized it as his 'working things through' look, and knew there was no point in saying anything else until he completed his thought.
"Right," he said, nodding his head. "Right – truth or dare, Foster?
Truth or dare. With the world's foremost expert on reading facial expressions. Whom she'd repeatedly admonished, over the years, for reading too much on her face, going past the line.
"Pardon me?" she inquired, ignoring the look of concentration that had appeared on his face. She knew that look well enough; it meant whoever was on the other end of it was destined for a heated few moments of interrogation.
"You've heard of it, yeah? I ask, you answer, we switch?" Suddenly she was looking at a Cal Lightman who was entirely too businesslike for her liking – setting his empty glass on her desk, settling sideways into her desk chair, peering at her with his head lowered to see her expression.
"Yes, I'm familiar with the rules. I meant why would we, of all people, need to play truth or dare? You read everything on my face whether I want you to or not, so…"
"Think about it, love," he said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees, clasping his hands loosely. "You say you don't want me to read you, but you also just – basically – said you want me to see the truth even when you're lying. Doesn't make any sense, right?" His eyes brightened, and that lopsided grin took over his mouth. "You've got something you want to tell me, so you know what? I'm going to help you, Foster," he concluded, the grin becoming irrepressible.