Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or anything to do with it at all. Sadly.
Chapter Two
The whole office was buzzing with furtive excitement as Cal made his way downstairs to the largest conference room, which had been converted into party headquarters. The Christmas tree that he'd grudgingly allowed Foster to buy and spend precious company funds decorating stood tall and proud in the corner – and, he had to admit, it did look good. Presents were piled underneath it – who from or for he had no idea – probably just empty boxes Foster had wrapped to make it look more inviting and homely. Christmas music flooded into the room through the speakers, and a few people were dancing already. The room was adorned with fairy lights, tinsel, snowflakes and various other decorations, and the tables at the side of the room were covered with dishes of party food and – aha! A large punchbowl and glasses.
Crossing the room towards it, Cal mumbled 'Merry Christmas' in as festive a voice as he could muster to anyone who greeted him, his eyes locked firmly on his destination. Reaching it – mercifully without having to stop and engage in any lengthy conversations - he reached for a cup, inhaling the smell of the drink, which smelt like it had rather a high alcohol content – a necessity for surviving the Christmas season, Cal had always thought.
He poured himself a glassful and was just raising it to his lips when a voice interrupted him. "You know you can't spend all evening hanging around the punch bowl, right?" He turned to face her, a sarcastic reply all ready, but the words caught in his throat, and he silently thanked God he hadn't had a mouthful of punch when he saw her, or he would surely have either choked on it or spluttered it all over her.
"Foster…"
"Yes?"
He gaped at her. She was wearing a short (very short) Santa dress with a plunging neckline, accompanied by black fishnet tights and black boots. Sparkling silver snowflakes hung from her ears, and her hair was hanging in perfect curls that framed her beautiful face. She'd never looked hotter, and Cal wondered how he'd ever be able to keep his eyes off her tonight.
"This is… not what I was expecting from you," he said at last, and she gave a small, somewhat embarrassed laugh.
"Yes, well… I felt like a change. It's my first Christmas as a single woman, so I thought I might as well have some fun." She did a little twirl, giggling. "Not too OTT is it?"
"It's… no," he said at last, wondering when he'd be able to form proper sentences again without sounding like a complete moron.
"Good." She sounded satisfied, and Cal decided to risk a sip of punch, managing to swallow it without too much trouble. His eyes never left her though, and she hadn't failed to notice.
"Dance with me?" she asked, holding her hands out in invitation, and Cal tried to hide his feelings as best he could.
"I never promised I'd dance, love," he said, playing along in his usual role, but placing his glass down on the table and taking her arm anyway. As if any man was going to pass up the opportunity to dance with her tonight – Cal had a feeling there'd be a queue of men waiting to spin her around the dancefloor, and he'd be a fool if he didn't get in there first.
He put an arm around her waist, his other hand holding hers, and she draped an arm over his shoulder as they gently began swaying to the music. Subtly she moved closer to him, and then a little closer, until their bodies were touching.
Trying very hard not to forget how to breathe, Cal inhaled the scent of her perfume – warm and spicy and just Gillian, and felt her head come to rest lightly on his shoulder.
"For the record, love," he whispered, "I won't be completely opposed to your little surprises in future, if they're all like this."
She pulled away from him, her face creasing up with amusement. "Oh, Cal," she giggled. "This isn't the surprise." She gestured at her clothes. "You really thought the surprise I was excited about earlier was my outfit?"
"Well, yes," he said, slightly irritated and immediately on guard again. "It's a very nice outfit," he added defensively, and she laughed. "So, if this isn't your surprise…"
In answer, she grabbed his hand, dragging him across the floor and into the adjoining room, where the party had spilled into. "That," she said, pointing with a flourish, "is your surprise."
Cal's mouth dropped open. "You cannot be serious…"
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A/N Yep, I'm leaving this chapter there. Yes, I really am that cruel *giggles*
