Cal's lips against hers felt like nothing she could have imagined. Everything about it was just so damn right. It was new and exciting, and unbelievably sensuous – and she had an overwhelming sense of completion, as if this was what she'd been missing for so long. He felt like home.

Her hands roamed across his back, stroking upwards to his shoulders as they kissed. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, making a stark contrast with the slow, sweet burn between his mouth and hers. She felt him twine one hand through her hair as the other began a soothing caress against her neck - and then without even realizing it, she parted her lips against him and gave a tiny little sigh of encouragement.

On a groan, Cal pulled away before the kiss could deepen any further. He framed her face with his hands as their gaze locked. "Jesus, Gillian," he whispered, breathing deeply.

She smiled, leaning in again to press a soft kiss against his lips as she stroked the nape of his neck with gentle fingers. "It bodes well for us that you're nearly speechless already," she said. "I can't wait to see what else is in store for us this evening."

His hands ran down her back and around her waist as he pulled her even closer. His accent was rough as he spoke into her ear. "Neither can I. And trust me, darling - this is only the beginning."

She felt the heat rush to her face immediately, unsure whether it was his voice or the innuendo that caused it. Either way, Cal definitely noticed. He took her hand in his and began to lead her further into the house, and she caught the smirk that he was trying to hide as he turned away from her.

Gillian closed her eyes and tried to focus. Between his accent and the fact that he smelled so incredibly good, she could barely think… or rather, she could barely think about anything other than how much she wanted to kiss him again. "I have a confession to make," she said. She followed along just a half step behind him as they walked toward the living room. He was still holding her hand, his right laced with her left.

"A confession, huh? Might have one of those myself," he replied.

She grinned, pulse racing. "Care to share?"

"Not quite yet, love. Dinner first, then maybe I can be persuaded to tell you."

They crossed into the living room, and just as he finished speaking, she saw it… all of it. All the little touches he'd placed throughout the house – the music, the flowers, the candles. She'd been too wrapped up in him to notice anything else until now. He'd transformed the place. "Cal… this is beautiful," she said, drawing out the words on a shuddered breath.

In her periphery, his reaction was relief – he grinned and puffed up his chest, nervous tension leaving his body and causing his limbs to go all jumpy for a second. It was sweet, to think that this confident, charming man had been nervous about putting all of this together for her. She'd had glimpses of this Cal before; the Cal who cared for her when she was sick or hurting or afraid. And it was always wonderful – he was wonderful. And it made her ache a bit, thinking that maybe they could have had this all along, if only they both hadn't been so damned stubborn.

She gripped his hand a little tighter and faced him with wide eyes. "I was hoping it would be this," she said. "Yesterday… when you invited me to dinner… and we almost… I mean, if Loker hadn't…"

She couldn't get control of her words long enough to form a complete sentence, but it wasn't because she was nervous; it was because she was so positively giddy and overwhelmed.

Cal grinned at her, obviously proud of himself. "Lousy timing, that one. Let's just hope it's not a pattern, yeah?"

Gillian just watched him, loving the look on his face now that he'd finally dropped his mask. He was happy – genuinely happy, in a way she'd never seen before. Even his voice was lighter; the tension he always carried with him had completely faded away. It struck her then how things had shifted again, just as they had in her office the day before. They'd gone from intense and passionate, to sweet and playful in just a few minutes. They were standing together in his living room, surrounded by an entirely romantic scene, and yet neither of them was nervous at all. That kind of balance was rare, but then again so were they, and maybe they really could have both. What they had together was already intimate on so many levels – it only made sense that a romantic relationship would strengthen their friendship, not smother it.

He caught her staring and pulled her close again. His hands gripped her waist and her head tipped back a bit in surprise. Not missing the opportunity, he leaned in to press a line of gentle kisses against her neck, from her jaw line to her ear. "Tryin' to read me already," he breathed, accent thick. "We haven't even made it to dinner yet... pace yourself."

She fought off a shiver and pressed herself further into his touch. It was so damn distracting… the entire world could have ended around them and she wouldn't have cared at all. At that moment, she had only one conscious thought. "Dinner can wait."

Cal almost growled. "Gillian Foster, are you tryin' to seduce me?"

"Says the man with his lips on my ear," she replied.

He didn't miss a beat. "Touché, love. I could put them some place else, if you'd like."

And there it went again… back to intense. Gillian's head was spinning and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so unbelievably excited. Her trademark blush was back with a vengeance and she gave a tiny little sound that could only be described as a squeak. An actual squeak. If she'd been able to focus on anything else besides his very talented mouth, she probably would have been embarrassed.

Cal pulled away from her and smirked at her reaction. He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, smoothing over the color that had faded into a light pink. "Just something to think about," he said innocently, and then he placed his hand against the small of her back and began to lead her toward the kitchen. "Dinner first, love. Then dessert. And then…" He didn't finish the thought, letting the words hang between them, implication heavy.

The man is a master at innuendo, she decided, but bit back the words as they rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen. Then, she was speechless for an entirely different reason.

She'd always known Cal was a good cook – it was something he didn't share with many people, but he'd never kept it a secret from her. Over the years, the two of them spent many an evening together in his kitchen, cooking and laughing and just relaxing together. He'd introduced her to curry, to shepherd's pie, and he must have tried at least a dozen times or more (all unsuccessful, of course) to convert her to his beloved beans on toast.

As she stood there with him now, hand in hand in that very same kitchen, a thousand memories flooded her. And in the forefront of them all was an image of him from several years ago, trademark floral apron tied tightly around his waist. They'd been debating something – she couldn't remember exactly what it was about… but she remembered the end their conversation word for word, as if it happened just yesterday.

"A man only bakes for one reason, Foster," he'd insisted. "To impress a woman."

She'd rolled her eyes at him, shook her head, and sighed. "What about shepherd's pie? That's baked. It even has 'pie' right in the title."

"Doesn't count."

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"Has meat in it."

"That's the deciding factor, huh? So if you invite a woman here for dinner one day and she finds some kind of rich, decadent baked dessert – something completely meat-free – then that means you're trying to impress her?"

"You," he'd corrected. "No need for generalities, love. The only one I'd ever do that for is you. No one else could ever be worth it."

Cal stood next to her, holding her hand in silence and waiting patiently. A moment later, Gillian dropped his hand and took a few steps forward, further into the room toward the center island where it sat. It was the most decadent looking chocolate cake she'd ever seen… dark and delicious and perfect. She smiled again and shook her head slightly, half in disbelief and half in surprise. "You baked this for me?" she asked. Which was silly, really, because of course he did.

And then he nodded, arms outstretched as he reached for her again. "'Course I did, love. It's meat-free and everything."

"I can't believe you remember that. What's it been, Cal? Four? Five years ago now?"

He pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips and then spoke softly. "No one else could ever be worth it, Gillian."


A/N: To be continued... and I promise, the MRI scans WILL show up in chapter 8. Meant to do it in this one, but this chapter ended up going in a different direction than I'd intended. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys are awesome. :)