Decided to step back and revisit one of my favorite one shots to test the water with a possible expansion. I'm a little fearful of writing the same thing over and over again in different stories. Hopefully I can avoid it. We'll see how it goes.

He looked just as shocked at his admission as she felt. She watched as his expression shifted. Was that regret? Whatever it was, it was fleeting and quickly tucked away. Now he just appeared conflicted. She wasn't really sure if that was any better.

Helen's comments weren't completely off the mark but things weren't that cut and dried. Cal was much too complicated for that. Loss throughout his life had marked him significantly and fear of attachment wasn't unusual. She just wondered if he'd ever be able to put it behind him. Her own declaration of love now made her feel exceptionally exposed and vulnerable.

"You didn't mean to say that." Gillian's voice was quiet as she fought to keep out any indication of hurt. It wasn't a question.

Damnit. He didn't want Helen to be right. She wasn't. She couldn't be. "I, uh…"

"You're not just saying it to get in my pants are you?" She let him off the hook and adopted a teasing tone as he looked at her in horror.

Cal stared at her intently. "I would never do that. Not to you."

"Oh, so you're used the line before."

"Darlin', I've never had to make any such promises." Relief swept through him as they settled back into flirt mode.

"You certainly have a large ego."

"Well, you've always known that."

Their position suddenly seemed awkward, inappropriate. Gillian pushed off of him and reverted to a sitting position and he slowly followed suit. The loss of warmth was evident to both of them. It was instantly missed. Cal inwardly cursed himself. What the hell was the matter with him? This amazing beautiful woman was in love with him and he'd completely dropped the ball. Where could they go from here? It's not like his confession could be unsaid. Everything was now out in the open and he felt himself instinctively pulling away into his protective little shell. Shit! Shit! Shit!

Gillian got to her feet and started gathering her things. "Maybe I'd better go."

Words failed him. He didn't want her to go, but couldn't bring himself to articulate it. Cal got up and hovered uncertainly.

She gave him a smile, doing her best to brush off her perceived indignity. "I'm just glad you're okay." With that, she was heading for the door a little faster than what she normally would.

"Gillian…?"

Turning, she raised an eyebrow in question.

"See you Monday?"

A fragment of disappointment threaded through her features. "Sure Cal." And then she was gone and he was left staring at a closed door. All he had to do was follow her out to the car and stop her. It wouldn't be that hard. Really it wouldn't.

At least for most people.

And Cal wasn't most people.

Instead, he grabbed his Scotch and tossed one back. And another and yet another for good measure. The warmth of the liquid did nothing but make him unsteady and muddled. Anger at himself flared up and he pitched the glass into the fireplace with an ineffectual crash. He still didn't feel better after his burst of violence and stood still, breathing heavily. When he did decide to move, the culmination of alcohol resulted in his getting tangled in his own legs and taking a header into the carpet. He just barely missed the coffee table and some part of his brain was thankful for that but he now didn't have the energy to get up despite the sting of rug burn against his cheek.

Two things leaked into his mind before he fell asleep: thank God Emily isn't home and I am the biggest wanker on the face of the planet.

(BREAK)

Now that she was away from him, she allowed the tears to fall. Why was she so stupid? She should have never been so open with him. Her lapse of judgment could have devastating repercussions. But despite everything, she did love him and it wasn't like she could or would even be willing to turn it off.

Damnit! Why did things have to be so complicated? But then, that was Cal. Look the word 'complex' up in the dictionary and they'd probably have his picture.

She wiped tears away with the heel of her hand as she drove. A light rain had made the streets slick and she was trying to be mindful but it was so damned hard.

Where do they go from here? What had been said couldn't be unsaid and she now dreaded Monday with a passion. How could she possibly face him? Her only hope would be a full caseload that could conceivably help keep things at least somewhat professional.

The sudden realization of taillights in front of her had her stomping on her brakes and clutching the steering wheel, heart suddenly making the leap into her throat. The car slid forward as Gillian held her breath, eyes wide; face a mask of tension and panic.

Her Volvo came to a halt a half an inch away from the Blazer in front of her. Her knuckles were white and aching and a moment later, she remembered to breath. Traffic slowly picked up again.

She couldn't keep doing this. It was official. She was now a blubbering mess and it was directly tied to Cal and he was clueless as to how to resolve the situation. She would have to be the one. A few days away to clear her head and then she'd have to start making some serious decisions.

Thoughts? Should I pursue this thread or is it incongruous with the first chapter?