A/N: The idea is to finish the story before Christmas. If it works out as planned, there will be two more chapters. Just so you can plan your Christmas preparations and holidays around reading & reviewing. ;)

I love to read your witty, constructive and kind comments and can't thank you enough for it. Since I can't respond to the guest reviewers personally, this is the usual shout-out to you Kam, xo870 & whoever reviewed just as "guest".

So, here is flirty Gillian and jealous Cal. Be prepared for things getting a little... tense...

Rating for language and content.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, this would have totally happened on-screen. Since they aren't, it happens here.

Gillian is enjoying this way too much, Cal decides. He has to pull himself together not to growl at her image that is displayed larger than life-sized on the screen. As if he needs a reminder of the importance of her role in his life. Maybe he actually growled once or twice, but, honestly, how is he supposed to watch her flirt and flutter her eyelashes and not react at all. Contrary to popular belief he is human.

The portable mini camera in her clutch is pointed directly at Steven. Of course, she calls him by his first name. This is a date. He is not a politician tonight but a man, meeting up with an attractive woman. One of the members of his staff arranged the alleged blind date with Dr. Gillian Sanders. They changed her last name just in case he would do some research beforehand; no need to let him know that she is Dr. Cal Lightman's partner and that they are experts in revealing lies. It wouldn't have been necessary though. Either he trusts his staff unconditionally or he simply doesn't care who she is as long as she fits his type. And fit his type she does; Cal could tell even with his eyes closed. The man is in full flirting mode. He doesn't want to go home alone tonight and the mere thought makes Cal want to growl again even if this is the purpose of their dinner – to get Gillian into his house and to make the politician spill all his secrets, verbally or non verbally, as soon as he is in his familiar surroundings.

Loker installed another camera in the restaurant that is pointed at their table (Steven is a regular and always gets his favorite table), recording both of them. Cal changes the angle a little bit so that he has a better look at Gillian's face, aware of Torres and Loker who are standing right beside him. He has to trust them to catch the significant expressions of the politician immediately and will watch the video feed later to recheck. Right now, he just can't stop watching her and the fact that she is dressed up and looking even more beautiful tonight than usual doesn't make it any easier. Cal doesn't have to pretend. Torres and Loker know, and better yet, they won't dare to address it.

This doesn't mean, though, that they don't dare to exchange glances behind his back when they think he won't notice it. Too bad that they are not aware he actually has eyes in the back of his head. Or it could be one of the hidden cameras they know nothing about that is streaming only to his smartphone.

"What's up with the smug smile, Torres?" Cal asks, causing Ria to startle. "Forgot you still have to make up for forgetting to call Emily?" When Cal left the office to look for Gillian right after the explosion, he told Torres to call Emily and assure her that he was fine, but in the middle of everything Ria forgot to do that. Fortunately, Emily was unaware of everything that had happened when Cal called her later. Yet, Ria made a mistake and since it involved Emily, the only reason Cal forgave her at all was because she had saved his and Gillian's life.

The smirk on Torres' face fades and she concentrates on the politician while Loker can't stop grinning. Sometimes they are as thick as thieves and sometimes they grudge each other anything. Today is probably a day somewhere in the middle.

"Same goes for you, Loker," Cal adds. "Just because I let you get away with running errands for Foster and hanging out in bars with her doesn't mean I won't fire you, anyway." Cal knows those things and Loker knows he knows even if they didn't talk about it and even if Cal doesn't plan to ever make good for it. He may talk it through with Gillian one day. Loker's involvement is one of the few things they haven't discussed as yet. That's a completely different matter though. Regarding Loker, it's only potential for throwing him off balance as it is now.

Like Ria, Eli focuses on the politician and silence fills the room, interrupted only by the animated conversation that takes place on-screen while Gillian and Steven are wining and dining and laughing.

What bothers Cal most is that not only Gillian is Steven's type, no, on top of it all, the smart politician is also exactly her type. Tall, good-looking, successful, intelligent and yet with enough rough edges to make him interesting rather than too perfect and boring. Like Alec, her ex-husband or Dave, the undercover cop. She loved both men and they both broke her heart in one way or the other; Cal knows as much. But a type is a type and the heart is usually quite resistant to learn from past mistakes. He is worried that Gillian will fall for the man's charms no matter how professional she tries to behave.

On the other hand, right now, he wouldn't call her behavior professional because it's time for dessert and Gillian is well known for indulging in her favorite dessert. According to the menu, it is a fancy French something. Howsoever, it has to be chocolate pudding because Cal recognizes the sounds she makes eating it. These sounds are reserved solely for this special dessert and go straight to his groin whenever she eats it – mostly as breakfast, but that's another story. Anyway, this is the reason why he makes sure there is always enough chocolate pudding in the fridge of their office.

In the restaurant, dinner comes to an end. If Steven had last doubts about inviting her to his home, they were for sure wiped out over dessert. His pupils are so dilated they are almost black, and for once, Cal studies his face and not Gillian's. Probably Torres and Loker are smirking again behind his back, but he doesn't care. Cal knows it is part of their plan that Gillian has to go home with him. He also knew he wouldn't like it; he just didn't expect the intensity of his dislike. Anger is filling him up more and more. Cal is angry with the ridiculously good-looking politician for spending the evening with Gillian, with Gillian for seemingly, or worse apparently, enjoying her date, with himself for allowing it to happen in the first place.

And this is only the beginning.

Steven and Gillian walk outside. Their cars are pulled up and they are standing next to her car, her clutch on the car top in an effort to catch at least some of his facial expressions. The camera has no night vision, though, and despite the street lights, the video feed is rather dark compared to the indoor shots. Moreover, Steven turns around and kind of blocks Gillian's way to get in the car so that they are basically staring at the big black nothingness that is his back, coat, whatever.

Torres, Loker and Cal listen to them exchanging polite words about the nice evening that are loaded with the subtext that they want to leave together. She's only doing her job, playing a role, Cal tries to tell himself, but the nagging question is there. Now, is she? Or does she really enjoy this as much as it seems? They shift their positions slightly, but still there is not much more to see – Steven's shoulder, a strand of Gillian's hair. It's quite breezy. Therefore, they can't hear every word, just fragments of their dialogue and then, suddenly, a brief pause before he leans forward and... oh, no, she can't be serious.

Cal sees a strand of Gillian's hair again, but it's too close, much too close, to the man's face. They are kissing. He kisses her, or she kisses him. Either way, Cal can't believe this is happening. He should have expected it to happen at some point this evening. Anyway, he didn't or maybe he simply forbade his imagination to go there. Then it's over; they shift positions one more time and Cal can see Gillian's face for the split of a second when she pulls away, the light of a street lamp illuminating it. There are moments when Cal curses that he is able to read micro expressions and this is definitely one of them. If not at the top of his list because what he sees written all over her face is arousal.

"Christ, Foster," he mumbles. The anger Cal thought he felt before was nothing compared to the blind rage he is feeling now. She is not supposed to do this, let alone feel this, with another man. Not when he is supposed to be the one kissing her.

Torres and Loker don't dare to breathe and rightfully so.

"Don't say a word," Cal hisses, meaning it.

No matter whether Gillian enjoyed the kiss or not, it was probably necessary as part of the role play to get her into his house. However, what should be a success feels like a failure, and for once, Cal knows that neither Ria nor Eli feel the slightest need to smirk.

On-screen, the pictures are even more blurry because they have gotten in their respective cars and Gillian set the clutch aside on the passenger seat, the camera pointed at the dark footwell.

Cal leaves the room, already calling her on his way out. He is aware that Torres and Loker will hear her responses, but going out gives him the needed illusion of privacy.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks instead of a greeting when she picks up. Cal doesn't even try to hide his anger.

"Getting into his house," Gillian responds patiently. "Acting accordingly to our plan."

It is so rational, so logical. Yet, to Cal it sounds as if she is talking to him in a foreign language.

"Don't remember our plan affording that much physical commitment," he comments sarcastically.

"Stop it, Cal," she sighs, but he hears the insecurity. Gillian is struggling with the situation and Cal starts to wonder whether this is getting out of control, whether he set her up unwittingly with a man she is interested in against her better judgement because he is the target of their investigation.

"What do you think he expects to happen next?" he all but accuses her.

"I'm going to hang up now," she says and suits her action to the word.

When he comes back into the room, it is dead silent. Loker and Torres stare at the screen that is still showing blurry pictures. Anyway, they all hear Gillian's annoyed sigh loud and clear.

Cal hates everything about the man. He usually doesn't quarrel with his height, but this guy looks like the front page model of a magazine. And he has his hands all over Gillian. They are in his study and he is yapping on and on about the research for his latest article, touching her in between occasionally. As attracted as Gillian may be to him, there is no way she is not bored and sees right through it as a ploy to impress her intellect as much as her...

Can we talk about the rest later? He remembers her voice, shaky and vulnerable. You know, about you wanting to rip my clothes off and stuff. He wanted to rip off her clothes so bad that night, but he didn't act on it. Nevertheless, he was pretty sure that he would be the next man ripping Gillian Foster's clothes off. Here and now, he is not so sure about that anymore. He is no voice expert, but she sounds very much as if she is really enjoying this, the lines between doing her job and adapting the role play as her reality blurring more and more. Her purse with the camera is lying on his desk. On his desk. Cal's stomach turns, vivd images coming to his mind what almost happened on the desk in his office. If she dares to let this guy push her down on his desk...

Sometimes Gillian and Steven are within the range of the camera; sometimes they only hear their voices. From Cal's point of view, it is almost unbearable either way. Foster is doing a pretty pissy job; they will get nowhere with all of this save that she had a nice evening.

"She is clever," Loker's statement interrupts his bitter thoughts and Cal's first reaction is to take a deep breath and give him a piece of his mind just when Torres chimes in.

"Yeah, she is," she says concentrated and Cal pauses to think.

She is? He may constantly antagonize Ria and Eli. Yet, he values them and their estimation even if he rarely admits it. Cal watches and listens some more and tries to see and hear what is there and not what he imagines. Where are his hands? Why did she laugh? And he has to reluctantly admit that they are right. With subtle hints and questions, Gillian directs the conversation to his alleged interest in young women, perhaps even minors, and whenever Steven moves out of the range of the camera, she does something to get him back there. It's not easy. She cannot readjust her clutch all the time to get a better video feed. It would be too obvious.

Cal calms down and tries to focus. He can't get a good look at her face anymore, and maybe she does this on purpose after his not so nice phone call, but her body language and voice give away that she likes this no matter how much of it is actual role play. The longer she is alone with him, the more difficult it becomes to keep him at bay. His passes at her get more blatant. His hand, that only briefly touched her back or arm before, touches her waist or her hip now, lingers longer. Then he turns around, seemingly to show her something, and they are standing next to each other right in front of the camera. He raises a hand as if he wants to take a book out of the shelf, but his hand softly grabs her neck instead. It's a very trained, effortless move and Cal almost is impressed. Wouldn't it be Gillian that is. If he kisses her again, he is dead. But just when he is about to do exactly that, Gillian puts a hand against his chest, softly pushing him away from her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I don't think I should do that."

It's over. They have enough video material to form a valid opinion. As far as Torres and Loker can tell so far, the rumors are only that – rumors. This man never did something that involved minors. The case is a success. Save that it isn't because when Gillian told Steven that she shouldn't do that, shouldn't kiss him, her voice and body language said the opposite.

On-screen, Loker and Torres see and hear Gillian politely say goodbye. It is an awkward situation at best, but the politician is a gentleman in spite of his wishful thinking being destroyed rather abruptly, accepting her decision without questioning it, simply walking her out. Cal doesn't even watch anymore. He is already on the way to his car.

The residence of the politician isn't far away from their office, but somehow Cal knows that Gillian won't come back to the office and head for home instead. Trying to avoid a scene, Gill, aren't we? the nasty voice in his head hisses. He is aware that he has no right to be mad at her, at least not that mad. She was supposed to flirt. So, what's the big deal? But the big deal is everything and he accelerates even more, spotting her car.

Without thinking, he overtakes and then brakes, forcing her to slow down to avoid a crash. Despite the unforeseen maneuver, her car comes to a halt at the sidewalk as if she neatly parked it there on purpose. This is Foster. Always in control.

In the rearview mirror, he sees the scared look on her face and almost regrets his rash action. Then she recognizes his car and her facial expression matches his. Anger. Nevertheless, when she sees him approach her car, she unlocks the door. Big mistake.

"Get out and get in my car," he all but yells at her, tearing open the door and at the same time turning around again, walking back to his car that is standing right in the middle of the street. This is Lightman. More often than not on the verge of lunacy.

Cal is aware that he behaves like a bugger. It's a mystery to him why Gillian sometimes bothers with him and he almost expects her not to follow him, but then he hears her light steps on the pavement behind him, the clicking of her heels that are even higher than usual. She gets in his car without saying a word.

He drives, just drives. Everything else would be too complicated or too simple. The scent of her perfume fills the car and makes him dizzy. He can avoid looking at her all he wants, the scent invades every fiber of his body, anyway, reminding him that she is here with him. In the confined space of his car. Within touching distance.

"Cal..."

Just his name. No accusation. No plea. Just a statement. He kind of ordered her to get in his car. Now, what does he want? He can't think straight, but he knows for sure that he doesn't want her to be patient or understanding. For once, he doesn't want her to be the perfect psychologist he is working with day in, day out. Cal wants Gillian to be as confused and angry as he is. She behaved so differently with this man. Granted, she flirts more with him, too, lately, but they know each other. She didn't know this man until today, though, and she already kissed him while he is still waiting for their first kiss.

"Cal..."

His name again but with a hint of impatience this time. He snorts. Getting there. Are you human like the rest of us, after all, Foster? the nasty voice in his head won't keep quiet. For some reason, he can't stop thinking of her car that is parked neatly at the sidewalk. Is there anything she does that is not deliberate and oh-so-perfect? Oh, yes, wait, there is, such as kissing a total stranger.

Obviously, Gillian is done with trying to get through to him with words and opts for actions instead. Her hand touches his thigh, and suddenly, the space of his car seems to be too confined to drive and feel her touch at the same time. Cal hits the brakes. The car almost spins out of control but eventually comes to a halt. They are in a dark, empty side street and Cal's car is not parked as neatly at the sidewalk as hers. Then again, there is probably nothing he can ever do as neatly as she.

He unbuckles and turns to see her face on. Gillian also turns to look at him, but she leaves her safety belt in place as if it protects her from him. Cal briefly wonders if she is aware what she is doing, and moreover, why she most likely is doing it. Is he really such a danger to her?

"What the hell was that?" he asks with a snarl.

There is nothing else he can think of to say. He refers to the flirting and the kissing and she understands without any further explanation. Of course.

"Maybe I wanted to get back at you for knocking me out in the basement," her words are meant to banter with him, but her voice tells him something else entirely. Nothing that happened tonight did happen because she wanted to get back at him.

Even if Gillian is looking at Cal, her eyes and most of her face are in the shadow. How convenient. This way, he can't read her, can't tell what is going on. He is way beyond pretending he doesn't try to read her. She may be his blind spot, but that doesn't mean he can't spot things here and there.

"I don't think I even remotely hurt you as much when I knocked you out as you hurt me tonight," Cal states brutally honest.

He is pretty sure that she can see everything in his face, doesn't make the slightest attempt to hide it. His anger. His hurt. How much he wants her and how much she means to him.

"Cal," Gillian says again but this time with a longing and intensity that sets his teeth on edge. Rational thinking is miles away.

"Is there anything you can say besides my name?" he confronts her rudely, aiming to hurt her just as she hurt him. Actually, everything hurts right now.

"No. I can't say anything else," Gillian whispers, "because I couldn't think of anything else during the whole evening. All I could think of was you."

He doesn't understand. There she was flirting with this guy and here she is telling him that... She increases the pressure of her hand, shifting it still higher, and he puts his hand on hers to stop her. She is too close. She may think this is a good idea to calm him, but it isn't. Not in the least. In fact, if she shifts her hand some more, she will know for sure how much this doesn't calm him.

"Not a good idea, luv," Cal points out almost tenderly even if his anger and hurt are still there. "Don't do that if you intend to soothe me."

"Who says I want to do that?" Gillian whispers and there is no way he can mistake this tone of voice. This is pure seduction.

She shifts her hand again. Just a little, but it's enough to make his thoughts run wild, enough to release her hand and give up the idea to stop her without further ado.

"Wait...," he stutters, anyway, even if he wants her to do anything but. What is she doing? Less than an hour ago, it seemed as if she was interested in another man while this...

"All I could think of was you," she repeats insistently as if he is a stubborn child and refuses to listen. Her voice caresses his skin like silk or velvet. He has no words to describe it appropriately, is completely mesmerized, his eyes magnetically drawn to her lips. "His hands...were your hands...his lips...were your lips..."

And it finally sinks in. The arousal he saw on her face wasn't there because she wanted the other man; it was there because she knew he was watching. All I could think of was you. Gillian was thinking of him when she kissed the other man, whenever he touched her.

She moves sidewards so that he can eventually see her face, her eyes. And what he sees there takes his breath away. The same arousal he saw there earlier tonight but exponentiated many times over. Primal lust. He is no religious man but dear Lord, have mercy or rather simply thank you. Thank you very much, indeed.

Her hand leaves a trail of fire on his skin even though she is merely touching him through the fabric of his pants. She shifts her hand some more and if she ever had doubts whether he wants her, she has undeniable proof now.

It's not gentle, not at all, and the rational part of his brain tells him that he probably should be more patient. On the other hand, she doesn't seem to mind. His lips collide with hers and he tastes and sucks and worships and she joins in, being a worthy opponent so to speak.

"You have no idea how much I want you," Cal mumbles, struggling for air.

"Oh, believe me, I have," Gillian admits, squeezing his thigh softly, and even in the darkness he can see that she is blushing.

In terms of touching, she is way ahead of him. He has to shorten the distance.

His hands found their way on their own accord to her neck and into her hair when they were kissing. He lets one hand drop to her thigh and is pleasantly surprised when he realizes that she is wearing no pantyhose. Well, maybe he was wrong believing she is a good girl. What happened and still happens tonight show him a side of her he has never seen before. Hints perhaps but never that distinctly.

They way she is sitting, Gillian's legs are pressed together rather tightly. He lets his fingers dance over her skin, anyway, until his hand disappears under her dress, his thumb between her legs. She tenses up and holds her breath, but she doesn't move otherwise and Cal can feel the heat between her legs even if he didn't even touch her there. Tonight, she is definitely not a good girl.

"God, Cal," she closes her eyes and he realizes that she won't stop him. She will let him do anything he wants, probably even won't stop him if he goes for it right here in the car. The mere thought turns him on still more. Then again, he wants adequate space and lighting for what they are about to do.

"Car or bed?" he asks her breathlessly. The decision seems to be too difficult to make it on his own.

"I don't care as long as you're in it," she replies without hesitation before she unbuckles and all but lunges at him, closing the distance between them to kiss him again.

Writing jealous Cal and flirty Gillian was so much fun. Then again, writing Callian is always fun.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.