Thanks to all who've decided to stick with this uneasy ride. Updates should happen faster now seeing as we're on to the final chapters and I always begin my stories at the end, which means they're already written:)
Evening had startled to settle, bringing with it a brazen sense of laissez-faire at The Lightman Group. Most of the staff, including Loker and Torres, had already left for the day and the offices harbored a quiet calm that Cal embraced. It was his second day back at work after Gillian had made him take some time off to rest and regroup. He conceded only because he knew that she wouldn't stop hovering until she thought that he was okay. And so he became okay.
The reality, of course, was that he was nowhere near to putting the incident of Melissa's death behind him and still wholeheartedly carried the blame on his shoulders. Yes, he had been right about Rylands but he should have known there was more to the story; he should have dug deeper.
The DNA they found at the scene turned out to be that of Alice's biological father - a suspect in at least four murder cases that had run cold. With the help of Gillian and her expertise in profiling, the police were confident that they were close to finding him but because Peter and the baby were still missing, the likelihood of either of them being alive was slim.
Gillian had tried her best to ease the situation by attempting to rationalize Cal's actions, but she could not absolve him. The hazy image of the young mother's fearful face would swim into his mind every so often, always without warning, and Cal's guilt would resurface, each time stronger and more vengeful than the last. He had consequently resolved to keep his inner turmoil to himself in order to avoid the tiresome coddling from Gillian and also to keep Loker and Torres from questioning every decision he made.
Cal shut down his pc and pushed away from his desk, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his temples. He was being sucked into that all familiar darkness with each passing moment and he was helpless to the fact. What he didn't want was to drag Gillian down with him because he couldn't guarantee that she would walk away unscathed. After his failed attempts to save her from him, Gillian had seemed reaffirmed in her commitment to their relationship and Cal had taken great care to play his role so as to elicit as little suspicion as possible – from her as well as everyone else. He barked at Loker more often than not, he was playful and upbeat when on Skype with Emily and he buried himself in the two new cases they had picked up over the past few days. The hardest part was keeping his slow-building agony from Gillian. She was sharp and she knew him better than anyone. It was because of this that Cal felt forced to limit the time they spent together. Work was easy; he could always find a reason to be busy or out of the office. The hiding became harder after hours and in the past few days, Gillian had stayed over only once. She had graciously accepted his excuses of needing time to himself with little questioning but Cal knew that he would not be allowed that grace for long. Soon there would be more questions and please explains, and he was not ready for either.
Gillian sat at her desk staring blankly at the paperwork in front of her. Her thoughts were miles away, or rather meters away, with Cal. The strain on their relationship from the Rylands case and his subsequent derailing was slowly beginning to fade. After a few days off, he almost seemed like his old self; a bit more subdued than usual but Gillian figured that it too, would abate with a little more time.
She knew that Cal was in a volatile space and previous experience had taught her that he was dangerous when he thought he had nothing to lose. Gillian sent up a silent hope that she would be enough to keep him from spiraling further out of control. It was hard work, the constant vigil she had to keep, the endless reassuring that he was fine and a few weeks ago, she may have been in two minds as to whether it was all worth it but now, she had faith that their relationship could withstand the onslaught. Their connection surpassed friendship, sex and even love; it had evolved to a level of symbiosis that neither would openly admit to but that couldn't be denied.
"When your mind drifts off, there's something that steals over your face that makes it – ethereal almost."
Gillian's head snapped up at the sudden assault on her silent contemplation and, relaxing somewhat, smiled at the culprit in her doorway. The smile was soft, a gesture that served to only emphasize the unearthly beauty her features took on in the dim light of her office.
"What are you after?" she teased.
"I can't compliment you without breeding suspicion?" Christian walked over to her and bent to place a kiss on her cheek which she easily accepted.
"You look beautiful," he said, his voice warm and sincere as his eyes stole over the length of her, indiscreetly pausing on her chest before meeting her gaze once more.
Gillian felt her face flush under his scrutiny and folded her arms to enforce the invisible barrier between them.
"That face," she said finally. "You're being nice to me because you're about to ask me for an impossible favor, aren't you?"
Christian tried to hide a mischievous grin as he sat down on the edge of her desk, allowing his leg to brush against the bare flesh of hers ever so lightly and seemingly nondescript. His intentions were not lost on Gillian however, but she knew that turning her chair away from him would create an implication that he would enjoy too much for her liking. And so she remained still, her leg up against his and her gaze unyielding in its action.
"Impossible is nothing for you, Doctor Foster."
"I knew it," she said as she smiled coyly. "So let's hear it then."
"Your associate saw a good friend of mine about a week ago."
"Ah, favors for friends. That's not good business practice, Attorney, you know that." Her tone was bordering on flirtatious and Gillian checked herself; surprised by her reaction to him.
"He's one of the best biochemists in his field and this evaluation was supposed to be nothing more than a formality."
"But-" she helped him along.
"But," he continued, enjoying the undercurrent of tension their close proximity created, "he wasn't validated. The report said something about too many negative indicators in his assessment."
"Ria is heading up this project because we have faith in her abilities. I don't see any reason to question her and I most definitely will not pull rank and reverse a decision she made based on the fact that he's a friend of yours." Gillian still smiled but her tone was firm.
"Have a drink with me and we can talk about it some more. Let me twist that beautiful arm of yours."
The request was unexpected and caught Gillian off guard. Her smile faltered as her mind groped for an appropriate response.
"Gill?"
"Uh - I'm going to have to pass." Her composure was back, albeit irresolute and Gillian was too late to stop her hand from nervously fiddling with her ear – a giveaway not unseen by the ever observant attorney who surveyed her with a knowing grin.
"Of course, you and Lightman are together now."
"Very much so," she said and let her eyes fall from his face for the first time.
"May I ask why you don't seem too happy about it?"
"I'm happy." Gillian forced a smile as she looked up at him again. Christian was unconvinced by the effort though and she dropped what remained of her guard with a heavy sigh.
"I am happy." This time her sincerity was more evident. "We're just dealing with the aftermath of a difficult case and things are – " The end of her sentence faded as her eyes misted up and found something to focus on in her lap.
She was surprised that Christian still had such a powerful effect on her. First the unabashed flirting and now this – allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of him when she was always careful to stay guarded. Since college, their relationship had been easy; their affection for each other had been instant and friendship evolved into something deeper without much effort.
Gillian felt his hand as he gently tucked her hair behind her ear and then lightly grazed her cheek with a subtle command which she obeyed. Meeting his eyes again, she was comforted by the sincerity she found there. Christian was an open book; something she had always taken for granted and Gillian admitted to herself for the first time how much she missed that with Cal, who was a quasi-constant fortress.
"You know I'm here," he said softly, his hand still on her face, "if you need to talk."
"Thank you," she responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and finally allowed herself to turn from him, a creeping cold stealing over her leg that had been resting against his all this time; her cheek feeling sad and vacant at the loss of his hand.
Cal felt like an intruder as he watched the intimate scene unfold before him. He had decided he'd had enough of the day and came to Gillian's office with the intention of taking her home when he was stopped in his tracks by the form of one Christian Rourke. The attorney's back was facing the door and his frame blocked Gillian's view as well, which allowed Cal to remain unseen as he listened in on their conversation. He was struck by the sense of intimacy and ease that reverberated between the two friends and swallowed hard to get rid of the rising bile in his throat as the sickeningly familiar feeling of hopelessness enveloped him. At least she would have someone, he found himself thinking, when all of this ends. At least she won't be alone.
Finding consolation in these thoughts, he stepped forward.
"Drinking yourself into a stupor every chance you get is not going to solve anything, Cal."
"At the risk of sounding like a child, I'll do what I want," he shot back, his words heavy with irritation. "And what did I tell you about acting like my doctor?"
"I'm worried about you. I thought you were okay but clearly you're not."
Gillian knew that Cal was upset by Christian's visit but he was civil and trite at the office and didn't say a word to her about it or anything else on the way home, a clear sign that something was wrong because it was unlike Cal to say nothing about anything. She had gone to shower and came back a half an hour later, dressed in one of his t-shirts, to find him in the kitchen almost halfway through a new bottle of scotch. His stubbornness and unwillingness to talk frustrated her. The fact that everything with him was so much work maddened her and she needed to talk, to understand why he fought so hard against her loving him.
"I don't want to talk. I don't want to think. Or feel. And this helps," Cal said as he emptied his umpteenth glass of whiskey, leaning on the counter with his shoulders hunched and head bowed low.
"I love you," Gillian said as she approached him, her words were hard and desperate. "Feel that."
Cal didn't move.
"What you're doing is hurting me," her voice quivered as tears filled her eyes. "Do you feel that?" Her exasperation was clear in her tone and she angrily pulled his arm from the counter to force him up straight.
Still, his eyes remained glued to the floor. Losing any measure of control she was holding onto, Gillian shoved him and he stumbled back a few paces. Surprised by the sudden outburst, Cal met her gaze and saw the tempest flaring in her eyes.
"Your constant pushing!" she shoved him again, "And pulling away!" and again, "Telling me I shouldn't love you!" One last shove sent him right up against the door behind him, "It's driving me crazy!" she ended, the tears streaming freely down her face as Cal simply stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Feel this." Gillian said as she closed the space between them with determined strides and pulled his face onto hers.
Her mouth was on fire as she forced Cal's lips apart, her tongue hungrily searching for a promise; acknowledgement; hope. She pressed herself up against him until she could feel the warmth of his body permeate the layers of clothing as her persistent hands worked to eradicate the barrier between them.
Cal's initial shock melted away with the last of his resolve as he succumbed to the building passion that threatened to consume him. He grabbed onto Gillian's hips and bucked into her, frantically grinding his captive rigidity against her exposed bone in fast mounting urgency. Claiming her mouth with a voracious hunger; he kissed her hard and deep, swallowing her moans as his tongue tried to satisfy the longing ache that was spreading through his body.
Gillian gave up on the struggle of unbuttoning his shirt and slid her hand down to his crotch, feeling his straining hard on grow even harder under her touch; all the time their tongues tirelessly dueling in a battle that neither was willing to surrender to. The throbbing in her core heightened to an almost painful level and the evidence of her unrestrained craving leaked onto her inner thighs with a hot, slippery wetness as her need to have him inside her tightened its possessive hold. His fingers dug into her hips and Gillian felt herself lift off the ground and slam into the side of the refrigerator with such force that she hit her head, but no remonstration was made. She had, after all, set the tone; this was not about tenderness and love but about gratification in its most primordial form, about the unquenchable need and want that spurred them both on.
Cal quickly freed his painfully thick, hard cock from his jeans and, cradling her legs in his arms, drove into her soaked, pounding core with such intensity her cries echoed around the room. He gave her body a moment to adjust to him inside her before thrusting into her again, and then again; building up an unsteady but decided rhythm, the purpose of which was simply to make Gillian cum as hard as he was about to.
"Harder." Gillian's breath was hot and ragged on his face; the raw yearning in her tone made Cal's desire to satisfy her surge stronger and hotter through his veins.
He obeyed and entered her with increasing force and pace, the refrigerator rocking awkwardly to the rhythm he created. Cal tried finding her mouth again but with his untamed thrusting, only managed to briefly brush her tongue with his before relinquishing the attempt. He buried his head in her neck as his focus returned to the tantalizing tease of Gillian's muscles contracting around his cock.
"Harder." Her breath was a moan as she dared to say it again.
She clung to him desperately; perfectly manicured nails digging into his back and legs quaking around his waist while waves of pleasure slowly rose in the depths of her core. A bestial growl escaped Cal as he pulled out and flung her onto the kitchen counter. He positioned himself behind her and without further fuss, forced into her as hard as he could; eliciting a cry from Gillian that rang through his ears long after it had stopped. The air was laden with sex and almost seemed to vibrate as the lovers filled the room with deep moans and heavy breathing; the sound of flesh smacking against flesh only serving to further fuel their naked desire. Gillian felt the familiar swirling deep in her belly and the ache in her core increased to a steady throb that burned to unravel as Cal salaciously spurred her on.
Noticing the change in her breathing, Cal snaked his arm around her waist and without sacrificing pace, slid two fingers between her folds. Her breath hitched as he ran his fingers along the sides of her swollen clit and then brought them together in a light grip while increasing the pressure and speed of his stroke. It was all Gillian needed to send her over the edge and her body was rapt with impassioned convulsions as her climax spread through her, hot and unyielding. Cal felt her legs trembling as they threatened to give in and as if on cue, spilled into her; an animal-like scream ripped out of him as his body shook with hard, irregular bursts until he too, was spent.
When she was sure that she could stand without collapsing, Gillian turned to find Cal buttoning his jeans; his chest visible through the bit of his shirt that she had managed to undo and glazed over with sweat. She studied his fluid movements silently until he looked up at her; a world of words passing through his gaze before he finally spoke.
"Everybody has their demons, Gill." He sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her waist, staring deep into her eyes as he tried to find more words. She waited patiently.
"For a while, you made me forget about mine. But now, it's like they're starting to drown you out," he ended, resting his forehead against hers.
"I'm just going to have to talk a little louder then, won't I?" she said and kissed him, gently this time but determinedly; desperate to make him realize what he meant to her and the lengths she would go to for him.
They eventually broke for air and Cal pulled her into a tight embrace, as if holding onto her would keep him from drifting away. He closed his eyes and drank in the moment, sending up a silent hope that she would be enough to keep him from spiraling further out of control.
TBC real soon!
