A/N: *waves* Welcome to Chapter 4 of A Cal Lightman, Christmas-in this here chapter, you will find many things-shopping, Starbucks, and a SURPRISE that I shall not ruin in my little tiny author's note.
This is the longest. chapter. ever. but once I started on this bad boy I couldn't stop.
Thank you all for your wonderful reviews-they brighten my day, and I may or may not check my email every ten or fifteen minutes on days I post a new chapter just to hear what you guys have to say. So, thanks.
Cal and Gillian entered the unusually bright department store. Immediately, an older thin saleswoman with her blonde hair cut into a bob greeted them as they felt the heat of the store begin to melt off the chill that had set into their bodies as the brisk D.C. air assaulted them.
"Can I help you find anything today?" She asked, smiling at them. Cal and Gillian exchanged a look—despite the smile on the woman's face, it was painfully clear to both Cal and Gillian that she did not want to be there.
"We'll be alright, thanks," Gillian said, offering the woman a polite smile.
When they were further into the department store, Gillian turned to look at Cal, "Well?" She asked, "What were you thinking about getting her?"
Cal shifted his weight between his feet and cast his eyes downward, "I don't know," he said, his voice dropping off slightly.
Gillian almost laughed—she bit her lip with her effort to contain it, "What did you get her last year?" She tried a different approach.
Cal shrugged, "Gift cards," He said, and then looked at Gillian.
"Well, that's not bad," she said, her tone soothing.
Cal smiled at her, "I know," sighing, he ran his right hand through his hair, "Since she stopped putting stuffed animals, dolls and hot wheels on her Christmas list, I haven't really known what to get her." He chuckled lightly, "After several failed attempts," At Gillian's questioning glance, Cal shot her a look that seemed to say no, I will not tell you what they were, "I gave up and decided to go the easy route. But," he said, enunciating the word rather precisely, "it's her last year at home, and I want to get her something special." Cal shrugged his shoulders and dug his hands into his pockets.
Gillian smiled warmly at him. She reached out and gripped his bicep—giving it a light squeeze, she looked at him, "Okay," She turned to survey the store, "I think we can manage that," She dropped her arm and began to walk purposefully through the store.
Cal smiled and began to follow after her. Where she'd touched his arm still burned and as he watched her form move gracefully through the store, he couldn't believe the charge that always ran between them. Even in moments of complete innocence and utter sincerity, Cal found himself wanting Gillian in a way that felt as though might consume him.
Gillian stopped at the jewelry counter and Cal was not far behind her—stopping at the glass case, he leaned on it and looked at her, "Jewelry, Foster?"
Gillian grinned at him and then rolled her eyes at the expression he shot her, "Jewelry, Cal." She said, laughing lightly as she surveyed the jewelry contained in the case.
Cal eyed her suspiciously, "What sort of jewelry?"
Gillian giggled—"Well, she doesn't wear rings much—and earrings aren't quite fun enough," She said, smiling at him. He arched his eyebrow partially in question, partially in amusement—"So, a necklace, then." She said, matter-of-factly.
Cal sighed—he longed for the days of stuffed animals and bicycles and things that were easy. Well, a part of him did, anyway. Even as he reminisced about those days, he couldn't help but remember that back in those days he didn't have Gillian—at least, not in the same ever present way that he did now. He'd like to go back and visit those days, he supposed, not have them back forever.
Gillian laughed softly and then ran her hand up and down his arm in a comforting gesture, "It's alright, Cal," She said. He turned to look at her and smiled—"Just look through the cases at the necklaces and find a few that look like Emily."
Cal's lips twitched, "Look like her?" He asked, his tone betraying humor.
Gillian sighed, "Yes, Cal," She pointed her finger at the case, "Look." She said, her tone stern as she began touring the cases looking at the jewelry as well. She saw several necklaces that she could see Emily wearing—and loving. But, she didn't ask the salesman to see any of them—it was important that Cal ultimately pick the piece of jewelry out; she was just there to help and give opinions on his choices.
Gillian finished looking at the jewelry and watched as Cal made his way around the cases—the salesman approached Cal and asked if he needed any help. Cal nervously looked up to Gillian who smiled at him and gave him a slight nod. Cal pointed out a few necklaces to the salesman who took them out of the cases and set them next to each other. Cal motioned for Gillian to join him.
Smiling, she walked over to where he was standing and sidled up next to him to look at his selections—she saw a few of the pieces she had picked out as well, and she smiled at Cal, "These are all wonderful, Cal," She said.
Cal smiled at her, grateful for her presence by his side. "Which one do you like?" he asked her.
She bit her lip in consideration before she shook her head, "I want it to be your decision, Cal," She said, her voice gentle.
Cal chuckled, "Alright, love," he said, "Then tell me your four favorites and I'll choose from there." Sensing her hesitation Cal looked at her, "I want you to help me pick, Gill."
When he used her nickname, she felt her resolve dissipate as she smiled at him, "Alright." She said, as she reached her hand out.
Cal watched as her delicate, elegant fingers reached out to touch each of the necklaces. He watched as she picked a few of them up and as she ran her fingers over the faces of some of them—he felt mesmerized by the motions her hands were making—by the delicateness of them, the size of them—and he suddenly felt overwhelmed by the moment they were sharing together.
Glancing up at the salesman and then back at Cal, she touched four necklaces—"I like these four," She said, and Cal grinned at her.
Still smiling, he considered four the four options that were in front of him, the salesman having removed the others to put back in their cases. Cal found himself reaching out and touching them, too, in the same way that Gillian had, until finally his hand rested on one. "This one," he said, glancing at the salesman and then back at Gillian who was grinning at him, "Yeah?" he asked, his eyebrows rising slightly.
Gillian smiled and nodded, "It's perfect, Cal," She said, as she eyed the piece he had chosen—it was a dainty and rather delicate white gold heart with little tiny diamonds studding it, "Emily will love it."
"Yeah?" He asked, still slightly unsure.
"Definitely." She assured, reaching out to touch his forearm as the salesman wrapped the gift in a small box and Cal handed over his credit card.
As he watched the salesman run it through the machine and as he watched Gillian peer into the case in front of her, Cal couldn't help but feel thankful. He'd felt awkward about attempting to buy something meaningful for Emily—and he'd felt severe apprehension at asking Gillian to help him—but, as usual, she never ceased to make him feel completely comfortable in the situation. He smiled as the salesman handed over the little bag and they began weaving their way through the crowded department store.
As they walked down the street, the brisk air rushing at them from all sides, Cal couldn't help but observe how lovely Gillian Foster looked—her cheeks rosy from the cold, her hair curling slightly at her shoulders. Her pea coat was wrapped tightly around her as her scarf was encircled around her neck. Gillian had been wanting Starbucks all day—and Cal suggested they find one—
As they approached the green sign, Cal reached out to take her hand—he smiled as he felt Gillian's hand curl around his own.
The gesture surprised Gillian, and she felt her breath momentarily taken away as she felt Cal's hand slide into her own—as she felt his thumb lightly caress the back of her hand as he turned his head toward her and smiled. Gillian blushed—and she momentarily felt gratitude for the rather cold weather because it allowed her embarrassment to be camouflaged. The last thing she wanted to do was explain to Cal why such an innocent gesture made her blush.
In truth, she wasn't even completely sure why it made her blush. Perhaps it was because it was so innocent. Perhaps it was because the electricity between them never ceased to astound her—perhaps it was because it was the first time Cal had ever reached out to take her hand while they were walking in public.
At that thought, Gillian felt tears burn the back of her eyes—sometimes, it really was the little things that meant the absolute most.
She squeezed Cal's hands gently as they approached the door to the Starbucks, and she couldn't help the smile that crossed her face as she was lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, an all too familiar voice ripped her from her reverie:
"Gillian?" She heard the voice, and she felt her stomach drop and lurch at the same time. "Gillian?" It said again. Although her first instinct upon hearing the voice was to drop Cal's hand, she resisted the urge, and instead clutched it tighter and leaned into Cal.
Finally, connecting the voice with the vision in front of her, Gillian responded, "Alec?" She said, her voice a higher pitch than she would have liked.
Sure enough, standing directly in front of she and Cal as well as the door to Starbucks, clearly about to enter, was her ex-husband, Alec. She looked at him, dressed in his traditional winter garb—his black puffy jacket reminded her of the winter in which she'd bought it for him. Gillian watched as Alec reached a hand up to remove something from his head as he looked at her and regarded her with a smile before his gaze shifted to Cal.
"Hi, Gillian," He said, clearing his throat.
"Hi, Alec," She said, plastering a smile on her face—she felt as though she should say more—say something but she couldn't.
"Cal." Alec said, pursing his lips.
"Alec." Cal nodded once, his tone of voice betraying nothing, but Gillian felt him squeeze her hand.
She thought that perhaps they should pretend as though they weren't going into Starbucks—but, given the position of their bodies and the proximity to the door, she knew he wouldn't buy it.
Suddenly, Alec seemed to notice the fact that Gillian and Cal were holding hands—she watched as many emotions flickered over his face—she saw surprise, anger, sadness, jealousy, and something else she couldn't define.
"Headed into the 'bucks?" Alec asked, his nervousness evident in his light laughter and the unsteady manner of his voice.
Gillian nodded. Alec opened the door and motioned for Cal and Gillian to go inside, "Me too," He said as they crossed the threshold.
"What luck," Cal muttered under his breath as he released Gillian's hand so that he could guide her in front of him with a hand on her lower back loudly enough so that Gillian could hear him but Alec couldn't.
Gillian stifled a giggle at his comment and whispered a hurried "Shh!"
The three of them made their way into the line, Alec standing a touch behind Cal and Gillian. The Starbucks was bustling, but it wasn't nearly as crowded as it could have been given the weather outside and the season.
Alec cleared his throat, "So…" He said, uncertainty evident in his voice, "You two are…" He trailed off.
Cal and Gillian turned slightly to look at him, and Cal scarcely controlled the inclination he had to roll his eyes, "We're…what?" He asked, unable to resist messing with Alec.
Alec looked uncomfortable, "Together?" He finished, his voice quiet.
Cal looked at Gillian, who cast her glace sideways before he turned to look back at Alec, "Yes." He said, simply, no trace of malice in his voice. Cal watched as anger and jealousy flitted over Alec's face, and Cal narrowed his eyes at the other man, before turning his head back to look at the menu.
When the cashier called the next customers in line, Cal and Gillian stepped forward, and Alec moved up in line as well.
"What can I get you?" The young woman behind the register asked.
Cal smiled at her, "I'd like a black coffee, please." He said, matter-of-factly.
The cashier smiled, "Okay—what size do you want? Tall, grande or venti?" She asked, her voice rather too cheery.
Cal scraped his hand down his face, "Oh bloody hell," He said, "I don't know," He reached out and pointed to a medium sized cup, "That size." He said—and Gillian giggled lightly at the exasperation on his face.
"Grande." The cashier said, as though Cal gave a damn—which he absolutely didn't.
"What do you want, Gillian?" Cal asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
She opened her mouth to respond when Alec's voice carried over, "Grande peppermint mocha." He said—
Cal whipped his head around to look at Alec who shot him a smug smile. Cal turned his head to see Gillian flushing and looking severely uncomfortable. She considered ordering something else just to spite Alec—but, she really wanted that peppermint mocha—she'd been craving it all day. So, she bit her lip in consideration, and then looked at Cal who smiled at her—
"A grande peppermint mocha, please." Gillian said, smiling at the cashier.
Cal reached into his pocket and paid the cashier before he and Gillian made their way to a table, took their coats off, and sat down.
"Thousands of people in the city," Cal muttered, "And we have to run into him," He said.
There were three chairs at the table, and Cal considered removing one—but, Cal knew how to read people, and Alec Foster was determined that he would be sitting with them. Cal sighed as Alec made his way over to their table and sat down, shooting Cal another smug smile.
Cal did roll his eyes this time.
Gillian shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
"So," Cal said, as tension descended upon the table, "You sober, Alec?" He asked, this time Cal was the one to shoot Alec the smug smile.
Gillian looked at Cal and considered giving him a reproachful glare—but, she didn't. Alec had, essentially, asked for it. And, for all the years she and Alec spent together, she was curious.
Alec cleared his throat, "Yes." He said, "I've been clean for a year and a half now." Alec's gaze fell on Gillian, and it softened—Cal saw what he didn't say—I did it to get you back.
"Well, at least that's the truth," Cal said, leaning back in his chair, glancing at Alec who was still watching Gillian.
"Grande black coffee for Cal," A male barista's voice called throughout the café, and Cal reluctantly stood up from the table.
Knowing Cal would be back shortly, Alec wasted no time, "Really, Gill?" He asked, his eyes searching hers.
"Alec…" Gillian's tone held a specific warning.
Alec sighed heavily, "I know I messed up, Gill," He said, his voice sad and quiet, "But…him?" He breathed out, the sadness he felt evident in his words.
Gillian sighed, "Alec," She said again, and she marveled at how awkward his name now sounded in her mouth. She could see the accusation on his face, and she tilted her head, "Stop it. It wasn't like that and you know it—I loved you," She said, and Alec nearly winced at her use of the past tense, "Cal and I," She started, and she saw him flinch—she felt her stomach tighten. Alec had once been a very special part of her life, and despite everything that had transpired between them, she hated hurting him, "We didn't start seeing each other until a few months ago." She said, and offered him a small smile.
Alec glanced up to see Cal placing a sleeve on his coffee, "Is it serious?" He asked, leaning forward over the table.
Gillian saw the sadness in his eyes, "It's…" She started, unsure of how to continue—
Alec didn't give her a chance, "I want you back, Gill." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Gillian pressed her back into the chair and her body stiffened, "Alec." She said, her voice part warning, part apology.
Cal walked up to the table, and took in the scene before him—Gillian's posture and her facial expression told him everything he needed to know, not to mention Alec's posture and facial expression. Cal didn't feel worried—he felt a slight bit of anger because he could tell that Alec had made Gillian feel uncomfortable.
Sliding into his chair, Cal looked between Alec and Gillian, "So," He said, adopting an unusually friendly tone, "What'd I miss?" There was an almost sing-song quality to his question—but, it didn't go unnoticed by Cal or Alec that Gillian visibly relaxed with Cal's presence.
Alec sat back in his chair, "Not a thing," He said, his throat scratchy.
"So," Gillian's voice cut through the tension and Cal watched as Alec leaned slightly forward, proverbially hanging on her every word, "How's work?" She asked, looking at Alec.
Alec sighed and smiled slightly, "Work is good." He said, nodding, "I got that promotion I'd been seeking," He said, sticking his chin out slightly.
Cal drummed his fingers on the table.
Gillian smiled, "That's great," She said, tilting her head slightly, "Congratulations."
"Thanks, Gill," Alec said. "So, were you guys out shopping?" Alec guessed, nodding at the bag sitting on the table.
Cal smiled at Alec, "Yep." He said, his head indicating the bag, "For jewelry." He said, emphasizing the last word. Cal watched as Alec's eyes widened, and Cal nearly chuckled before adding, "For Emily." Cal watched relief surge through Alec, "Needed Gillian's help." He said, sending a smile at Gillian who was hiding her mouth with her hand. By the look of her eyes, Cal would've guessed—and guessed correctly—that she was doing it to hide her own smile.
"… for Gillian," The barista's voice cut in, and Gillian got up from her chair—she was reluctant to leave Cal and Alec alone at the table together, but, she reasoned, how much trouble could they get into in a matter of seconds—
Gillian made her way through the crowd and stopped at the counter—picking it up and putting a sleeve on it, she couldn't resist taking one sip before she headed back to the table—what assaulted her tongue was not the glorious peppermint mocha she had ordered.
Sighing, Gillian tried to catch the attention of the barista, who was moving surprisingly slowly for how busy the Starbucks was—when she finally did catch his attention, she smiled at him, "Excuse me? This isn't what I ordered—I ordered a peppermint mocha," She said, her tone friendly.
The barista sighed at her, "I made what was written on the cup." He said, looking at her.
"Okay," Gillian said politely, "But that's not what I ordered,"
The young man stared at her before he sighed again, "Okay, just a second—Mindy!" He shouted, in the general direction of the cashier, "Come here for a second," He said.
The girl, busy helping another customer turned her head toward him, "Okay, I'll be there in a second."
"She'll be here in a second," The young man, Sean by his nametag, told Gillian.
Shaking her head, and leaning up against the counter, Gillian sighed, "I heard."
Back at the table, Alec and Cal were simply looking at each other, Cal occasionally sipping his coffee—
"You'll never know her as well as I do," Alec said, his voice filled with contempt.
Cal chuckled and rolled his eyes, "I somehow think that's inaccurate," He said, matter-of-factly—Cal watched the anger pass across Alec's face. Cal was prepared to be civil to Alec despite the fact that he hated him for what he'd done to Gillian—for the fact that he'd, essentially, chosen drugs over Gillian. "You know, Alec," Cal said, "I've never been a fan of this particular turn of phrase, but in your situation, I think it fits: You made your bed, and now you've got to lie in it." Cal said, sipping his coffee.
Alec tried to think of something to say—but he couldn't—he just leaned back in his chair.
Cal glanced at the counter and noticed that Gillian was talking to the cashier and the barista—Cal then turned his attention back to Alec. Noticing something around his neck, Cal's lips curled up into a slight smile.
Pointing his index finger half-heartedly at the contraption hanging around Alec's neck, Cal smirked, "You wearing earmuffs, Alec?"
Alec looked at Cal, and an expression of confusion came across his face, "Yeah." Alec said, furrowing his brow.
"Why?" Cal questioned, his tone simple.
Despite the nonchalant tone with which Cal issued the question, the tension between the two men was glaringly apparent.
Alec's tone was nothing short of indignant when he finally answered Cal, "They keep my ears warm."
Cal looked at Alec with a look that was somewhere between bewilderment and amusement with the tiniest bit of disdain thrown in for good measure.
Responding to the look Cal gave him, Alec crossed his arms over his chest, "Don't your ears get cold?" He asked.
"I suppose." Cal said, taking another sip of his coffee.
Alec looked at him with slight exasperation, "Well? Then, what do you do?" He asked.
Cal turned his head to see Gillian maneuvering her way through the crowd of people, heading back to the table, peppermint mocha in hand.
Cal smirked at Alec, "Well, if my ears get cold," He said, and then he dropped his voice, "I've got Gillian's thighs to warm them."
Cal watched as Alec considered this—and then Cal watched in amusement as Alec understood the innuendo—realization dawned on Alec's face and intense anger rushed in, making his muscles contract as Gillian approached the table.
"Sorry," She said, as she reached the table, "They got my order wrong," She glanced between Cal, who was smiling at her and Alec who was glaring at Cal. She shot Cal a questioning glance—he simply shrugged and slid out of his chair.
Grabbing Gillian's jacket he helped her put it on. Alec still looked angry—
"Well," Gillian said, sighing, "We'd better get going," She said, glancing at Alec, "It was nice to see you, Alec," She said, offering him a small smile.
At her voice, Alec glanced up at Gillian, "You too, Gill," He said, his voice sad. Alec ignored Cal completely as Alec stood up from his chair and wrapped Gillian in an unexpected hug that lasted a little longer than she or Cal was comfortable with.
Cal watched as Alec pulled away—he was going to let it go and simply leave until he saw Alec smell Gillian's hair as he withdrew from the embrace, squeezing Gillian's arms with his hands.
"Yes," Cal said, reaching for Gillian's hand again, "We'd better get going—we've got a—what's it called?" He furrowed his brow as he looked at Gillian, feigning forgetfulness. She raised her eyebrow at him, unsure of what he was talking about, "A—Charlie Brown tree to decorate," Cal said, grinning at Gillian and glancing at Alec.
Cal watched the happiness spread across Gillian's face and Cal certainly didn't miss the look that passed across Alec's face—and Cal thought that the shame Alec Foster felt in that moment absolutely served him right.
As Cal and Gillian exited Starbucks, Cal squeezed her hand, "Sorry, darling," He said, his tone soft—"I couldn't resist."
Gillian smiled at him, "It's alright, Cal." She said, laughing lightly—"Although, I am curious," She said, her tone humorous, "What did you say to him when I was gone?"
Cal cleared his throat and tried to suppress the smile that flitted across his face. He glanced at Gillian out of the corner of his eye, "How's that peppermint mocha, love?"
Gillian pushed her side into him playfully and he chuckled, releasing her hand and wrapping his hand around her waist as they walked.
Two hours later, Cal and Gillian stood in her office, surveying the pathetic little tree now adorned with tinsel and colorful Christmas ornaments.
Cal watched Gillian look at the tree—he took particular note of the way the smile she wore lit up her entire face—
"It's beautiful," She said, looking at the tree.
Cal watched as her eyes lit up, "It certainly is." He said.
Gillian heard the tone in his voice and turned her head to find him watching her carefully—she blushed at his attention—
"So," Cal said, his gaze intent on her, "You're coming over tomorrow to decorate the tree with Emily and me, yeah?" He asked.
Gillian nodded, "Of course," She said, moving closer to him.
"Good," He said, closing the distance between them—he ran his thumb over her cheek, "Do you think I could come home with you for a bit tonight, love?" He asked, his eyes darkening.
Gillian felt a shiver run up her spine at the tone of his voice—"Of course," She said, even as she felt her legs begin to quiver beneath her.
"Excellent," Cal said, before he smiled at her.
Gillian looked at him curiously, wondering why he was smiling and why his eyes held such humor, she opened her mouth to ask him, but he silenced her question with his lips on hers—she sighed into him, enjoying the warmth that began in her belly and spread outward as his hand tangled itself in her hair.
Pulling away, he gazed at her, and then took her by the hand and began to lead her out of the office, "Come on, darling." He said, his voice gravelly, "My ears are feeling particularly cold this evening."
TBC
also, thanks to Kelsey and Gidget89 for the various ways they helped me with this chapter.
*checks e-mail repeatedly*