Cal charged the front door. It was late. Whoever it was knocking on his door this late had a bloody nerve. It was Foster. He was obviously surprised.

"Hi," she said, seeming unsure. A cold gust blew her hair into her face.

"Come in," Cal ushered her inside. "Bloody hell it's freezin'. What are you doin' out and about this late?"

Gillian picked her hair out of her eyes with one hand. The other was holding her coat tightly against her body. "I wanted to see you," she explained lamely.

"Well come in," Cal said again, suggesting she come further into the house. They went through to the living room. The fireplace was glowing with dying embers and the room was warm. Gillian took her coat off even though she didn't feel warmed. A week had gone by now but she didn't feel any better. Probably worse. A blood test at the clinic had confirmed she wasn't pregnant. Cal offered her something to drink. Gillian declined. She did have a reason for coming over but it had nothing to do with beverages. Or talk for that matter. She crossed to where Cal stood. She kissed him. She came tonight for one thing. And she wanted it from him.

She could feel Cal's surprise for a second before he was kissing her back. He was being cautious though, so unlike Cal, so Gillian deepened the kiss, using her tongue to explore his mouth, daring him to do the same. She was desperate and this was probably very stupid, but she felt alone, hollow and she needed someone to fill that void for her. She wanted Cal to be that person. She unbuttoned his shirt, felt his firm body under her fingers. She reached for his belt buckle, her intentions very clear. She half expected him to stop her but he didn't. Maybe she wanted him to. Maybe she was testing him. She was usually the voice of reason. If she wasn't being reasonable, would he step into that role? She wanted him to stop her and yet she didn't want that either. She almost gulped, 'here we go'.

She pulled her jersey over her head, then the top she was wearing underneath that. Cal's hands were on her bare waist now and he gave her a deeply appreciative expression before she kissed him again, teasing with her tongue, liking how he tasted, how he sparred with her. She nipped at his bottom lip and felt his hands tighten on her skin. She undressed his top half, then her bottom half and encouraged him to join her naked. In underwear he finally started pressing her towards his bedroom.

It was sex with Cal. It was great sex with Cal. They had crossed that line then. Would she be able to put it back in place again? Gillian sat and moved off the mattress. She left the room and went back to the living room to find her clothes. She dressed quickly. Cal didn't follow her and she was grateful for that. She slipped out of the front door and back to her car and drove home numbly.

Cal heard her car start on the quiet street. He rolled on to his side, checked the clock. So they had crossed her bloody line then. Except he didn't know what the hell it meant. For the first time in a very, very long time, he was completely dumbfounded.

Cal started to suspect he was a booty call. She came over again the next night and he had wordlessly complied with every silent demand. It was very had to say no to Gillian Foster. She was a very good lover. The next night, he had been at her place. They had actually been working but as the evening wore down she had initiated more sex. Cal knew the drill; after it was over he got up and left wordlessly. He hadn't quite got his head around what was happening and he didn't quite know how he felt about it.

There had been a night's reprieve, probably because Emily had come to stay. Then the next night another knock at his door, and again the next night. That line of theirs was shattered all over the floor and they were walking carelessly all over the broken pieces. Cal knew in the back of his mind that he was being used. And normally he wouldn't give a care less, but this was Gillian. They shouldn't be doing this. So when Gillian leaned toward him and kissed him sweetly he pulled back slightly.

Her blue eyes looked up into his, questioning him.

"What are we doin' luv?" Cal asked almost at a whisper. It wasn't so much that he was complaining it was just... well... this wasn't the right thing to do.

Gillian held his gaze for a long time and then her eyes flickered away. "You're right," she said softly. She sat up again, shifted to the edge of the couch and got up.
"I didn't mean for you to leave," Cal noted, also straightening up where he sat. He had seen that little micro-second of hurt. Rejection. The last thing she needed right now was more rejection. That wasn't what he was trying to do.

"I think I should."

"Hey," Cal stopped her before she would walk out the door. "We're still friends though right?"

Gillian gave him a ghost of a smile. "Yeah, still friends." Her smile was more certain as she turned to the door again.

Cal had worried Gillian would change on him. That them sleeping together would change their dynamic in an irreparable way. He was wrong and for once he was glad to be. He had to admire her for her strength. Sure, she had taken awhile to bounce back, but she did. She was still her usually sunny self. He had tried talking to her about adoption but she politely told him that she didn't want to think about it just yet; the only indication that she was still bothered about the failed IVF attempts. Cal attempted a glance at the finances to see if there really was no way she could borrow money against the company and try one more time. But he didn't know them as well as Gillian did. She had told him 'no'; he couldn't do much else but take her word for it.

Seemed unfair though.

"Hey."

Cal looked up. Gillian was striding across his office. "Mind if I invite myself over later tonight?"
"Depends on what for," Cal retorted.

Gillian gave him one of her unique amused but trying to be unimpressed expressions; her blue eyes glinted. "Talking only."

"Sure. We can have a drink," he suggested.

"No, no drinking. I need to talk to you about something important."

Cal hoped she was going to try IVF again. "Sure. Come on ova wheneva you want."

"Ok," Gillian gave him one of her usual warm smiles. "Thanks."