A/N: Hey hey, been busy with exams and stuff. Here's chapter 2 … By the way, I really enjoy writing around dialogue already in the show, so I hope that doesn't bore you :-)

Disclaimer: Lie to Me characters and concept do not belong to me. Nor does any dialogue or storyline that I have used that came from any actual episodes.

x x x

Chapter 2: Moral Waiver

Gillian entered the lab to find Cal playing around with his micro-expression training program.

"What d'you see?" he asked as soon as he was aware of her.

Ignoring the screen, she said, "I see a skeptical emotionally-distant scientist obsessing over facial twitches." She kissed his cheek.

"I'm not emotionally distant," he grunted, playfully offended.

She grinned, but simply asked, "Why are you doing micro-expression training?"

"I got it started on triple speed," he informed her, unable to keep the smugness from his voice. "You know when you try and hide your emotions, they leak out at a fifth of a second? Well, this is testing me at a fifteenth of a second." He got another one right, and looked immensely pleased with himself.

"Hm. Impressive," said Gillian, not really interested, because she already knew how good he was, and she had other things she wanted to talk to him about. She decided to use this as her opening. "You know who else is impressive on that thing?"

Cal saw right through it. "Is this another attempt to get me to take Ms Torres under my wing?" he asked irritably.

"You need somebody to back you in the military case," she pointed out.

"I've got you for that," he grunted.

"I'll be courtside with Earl White," Gillian began, and Cal zoned out while she started in on some kind of sports mumbo jumbo he didn't understand, and felt resentful. This whole new employee thing wasn't going to work out for him if it meant he didn't have Gillian at his side anymore.

"Well, we got a meeting at Fort Meade in half an hour," he said, trying not to sound too whiny. She, of course, picked up on his irritation anyway.

"Look, I'll – I'll meet you there later, okay?" she said quickly, trying to compromise. "But let's get Torres involved. She's a natural. She's got phenomenal instincts."

"Doesn't mean she knows her science," he grumbled.

"Dr Foster said you wanted to see me?" came Torres' voice from the doorway. Cal shot Gillian an accusatory look, while she smiled brightly at him. He narrowed his eyes, and said crossly, "For that, I'm not putting out tonight."

Gillian laughed, and said skeptically, "We'll see."

"Um …" said Torres, looking uncomfortable.

x x x

Cal was somewhat distant when Gillian showed up, still annoyed with having to work with Torres instead of her. Gillian, typically, took it in her stride, and merely shot him a pointed "Nice to see you, too."

Things quickly returned to normal, however, as she enjoyed watching Cal flirt outrageously with Sergeant Scott, and then had more fun sharing the joke via eye contact with him as Torres looked stunned.

When Cal said, "I love a man in uniform, you know?" to Torres in that sultry tone of his, it took all her power not to collapse into giggles. He saw it in her eyes, though, and she knew that that cheered him up.

"I don't want you anywhere near Sergeant Scott," she told him as they made to leave the interrogation room after Torres. She moved to stand very close to him, and murmured suggestively, "You're mine."

"Oh, yeah?" he smirked, and moved so he was as close as he could be, while still comfortably maintaining eye contact. "You got any uniforms to make up for it?"

"I don't need any," she whispered, and he grinned.

"See, it's fun working together," he pointed out.

Gillian rolled her eyes, and stepped away again.

"I never said it wasn't, Cal, you know I love working with you. This is about practicality."

He frowned at her, and said, "I don't wanna be practical if it means I have to spend less time with you."

"Well, the sooner you get Torres trained up, the sooner she won't need supervision," she reasoned.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well played, love. Let's go then."

And he swept from the room. Smiling, and feeling slightly proud of herself, she followed.

x x x

Despite having decided to try and work with Torres after all, Cal couldn't resist teasing her obvious disgust/contempt towards him. It was a level of fun he couldn't help. On some level, it reminded him of how he teased Emily - so sure she was right, even though they both knew he knew better.

Besides, he wasn't going to put up with being called an idiot by anyone, least of all some inexperienced uneducated natural who was barely older than his daughter.

Of course, Gillian didn't share this view.

"You should consider going a little easier on Torres," she suggested to him as they waited in line at a falafel cart outside the building.

"Why?" he snapped. "She's all false positives. See, that's the trouble with naturals. They don't see what's missing. They're all instincts. No science."

He could feel her rolling her eyes at him, but he ignored her. "Can a have a falafel sandwich please?" he said to the vendor.

"And an Italian ice," Gillian inserted. "Grape." Then she added to Cal, "I thought you agreed to try and teach her. Being nice about it is often more effective."

Cal wasn't listening. He was watching the vendor assemble his sandwich with no gloves on. "You wash your hands today?" he asked, eyeing the man with disapproval.

"Uh, yeah, of course," said the guy, reaching up to rub his neck.

"You have any kind of pain in your neck?"

"Uh, no. Why?"

"People touch it when they lie," Cal told him, ignoring Gillian's hand on his elbow. "That's a classic manipulator. You been to the bathroom today?"

"Oi," mumbled Gillian. She'd been present for enough of these kinds of confrontations to know not to try and stop him.

"Uh, no," said the vendor, his hand moving automatically up to his neck, before he caught himself.

"Oh, great," said Cal, revolted, before announcing at the top of his voice, "Anybody else want a side of faeces? Anybody? Side of faeces?"

Gillian was shaking her head, and tugging him away by the arm, as various people froze and choked on their falafels.

"Let's go, Cal," she insisted.

"It's bloody disgusting!" he snapped, as he allowed himself to be dragged away.

"I know."

"I mean, how hard is it to wear gloves?"

"Not that hard. Let's go someplace else."

"And God knows what else he's been touching. You know how many men leave semen on railings?"

"Gross!" she objected, wrinkling her nose in a classically disgusted expression.

"Seriously, they did a study, right, where they tested what was on railings in malls and stuff, and-"

"I get it, Cal," said Gillian, and sighed before stopping. "You know what? I've lost my appetite."

"Took you that long?"

x x x

"How's it going with the ball player?" was how he announced his presence as he entered her office.

"Ball players play baseball," she said vaguely, staring at the screen, clutching a chinese takeout box and chopsticks in her hands.

"Huh."

She could tell he didn't give a damn. She had long since given up, and accepted that she was the watcher of basketball, baseball and football, while he had dibs on cricket, soccor and rugby. Neither had managed to gain any appreciation for the others' sports, and in essence that fact had merely resulted in a huge decrease in their sport-watching activities. Neither missed it very much.

"Chicken dumpling?" she offered distractedly, and then winced as she remembered the lecture she was about to get.

He didn't disappoint.

"Oh, no, come on love, you know I never eat meat I can't see. No, really. No. You have no idea what's in there. I don't know why you never listen to me, and after what happened at the falafel stand? Seriously, Gill-"

Gillian had taken a bite anyway.

"Just shut up and take a look at this," she snapped once she had swallowed. "Earl White just took state for the first time. The kid's on the list for every NBA scout in the country. But when asked about playing pro-ball …"

Cal stood behind her, and leaned down to drape his elbows on her shoulders. He rested his chin on her head as she showed him the clip.

"Chin thrust," he said at once. "He's angry."

"Very. Earl White should be on top of the world. Why is he secretly angry?"

"I spot the liars. You're the feelings department. Follow me. I got something for you."

In spite of herself, she followed him. She had to admit that working with Loker was also a bit lacking in the fun department, and she actually felt pleased that Cal was still including her on the military case. Until she realised he hadn't even bothered to call Torres when she walked in on them, and said, "Hey. I thought we were done with this case."

He then proceeded to mercilessly make fun of her, obviously very pleased with himself. Poor Torres was reduced to a spluttering mess. By the time she left the lab looking thoroughly put out, Gillian was feeling decidedly exasperated.

"What?" demanded Cal, looking at her. She shot him a very clearly irritated expression, and he said, "Oh, and now you're starting on me? Don't say something you'll regret." She then gave him a combination of impatience and disgust as she left. "And I saw that," she heard him mutter behind her, and smiled. She knew he had also seen the smile she had been trying to hide.

x x x

"We should help him," she was saying to Cal as they sat in his living room that evening, sipping wine and waiting for Emily to get home from the movies. The three of them were supposed to be going out for dinner.

Gillian had come up with the idea to provide Earl White with a fund, and had debated on when to talk to Cal about it. She had decided to wait until he was relaxed at home with a drink. Unfortunately, he seemed to be in a very bad mood.

"Why'd you have to push Torres on me?" he demanded suddenly.

Surprised at the sudden outburst, she said, "I thought things were going okay."

"I can't work with her," he said firmly. "I want you back."

She gaped at him, and then discarded the Earl White situation for a later time.

"What happened?"

"She doesn't understand ..."

She watched his indignation overtake his ability to speak.

"What?" she prompted eventually.

"Boundaries. She doesn't understand bloody boundaries."

If he hadn't been very clearly upset, Gillian would have laughed out loud at the hypocrisy of that. Instead, she asked gently, "What'd she do?"

There was a long silence, and then he mumbled reluctantly, "She read me."

Oh.

Well, that made sense. He didn't allow people to read him, except Gillian, of course. So Torres was too good.

"What did she read?"

He hesitated, fidgeted, and then he finally burst out, "I was trying to explain to her. I was telling her why it's important to know the science. That if you don't know the science, people can get hurt. I was trying to help her understand. And then she read my shame. She can't go reading my shame, Gill."

Gillian bit her lip. Oh dear, reading Cal about his mother was not a good thing to do, not at all.

"It's okay, Cal," she said soothingly. "She doesn't know anything."

"It's too bloody close. And why can't she keep her smug little mouth shut about what she sees?"

Another moment where, if it weren't for his obvious aggravation, she would have laughed. She wondered when Cal would see that Torres was really his mini-me.

"I want you back," he insisted. "I need you around so I don't care when I'm being read."

She sighed, and said, "Remember when you said you spot the lies, not the feelings? Well, it's the same with Torres, Cal. She has no idea-"

"It's not the point," he snapped.

"Yes, it is," she said firmly. "That's the nature of our workplace, Cal, it's just that since we've never had anyone who's good enough to read you, you've never had to deal with it."

"You read me," he pointed out.

"Because you let me," she retorted. "And because I understand you. Look, speaking as someone who has had to deal with it, knowing that people don't know the why makes all the difference."

"What if she finds out the why?"

"And how would she do that?"

He shrugged, and looked upset. She sighed, and said, "How about we alternate, then. Take turns working with her."

He turned and looked at her.

"Then we still don't get to work together," he said sulkily.

"What do you mean? We still got to work together on this case."

"Will they all be like this?" he asked.

"Whenever we can, yeah," she shrugged.

"Good," he said, relaxing slightly. "But I'm not going to go easy on her."

"I know."

"She needs to learn."

"I know."

He watched her, and then she leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss. And then another one.

"I missed you, too," she whispered.

He grinned then, delighted.

She shook her head slightly, but she was smiling.

"So, what was that about your ball-player, then?"

TBC

A/N: Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading :-)