Disclaimers: The usual!! See previous chapters.

Note: Thank you all those who reviewed and I'm sorry for the wait. I definitely haven't given up on this story, I'm just living a pretty crazy lifestyle this year, as I'm not living with my family anymore, so I ask you to please bear with me :D ALSO, IMPORTANT WARNING: This story had earned its rating because of adult themes and maybe vocabulary, but so far we'd had none of that. This chapter does. So you know what you're facing, lol. Enjoy!!!! Reviews are love! =)

Chapter X

A week gone by, three successfully closed cases and a glass of scotch later, Gillian sat with her feet curled up under her body, leaning against the back of the couch with a content smile on her face. Cal was watching her from the other side of the sofa, his mouth slack, his eyes wandering over her face.

"What, Cal?" she asked as she flipped through the pages of her book.

"What what?"

"You're staring".

He snorted, but didn't reply.

"I know there's something you're not telling me" she smirked. Without looking up, she paused and licked her finger, then turned another page.

"What are you reading anyway?" he asked, his tongue slightly sticking out.

Gillian heard genuine interest in his voice, which forced her to stop reading. She lifted her gaze and observed him, surprised.

He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. "Go on, then".

Cal rested his arm along the back of the couch, and Gillian sighed lightly.

"It's Katherine Mansfield" she stopped short and considered a thought. "In fact, she's a writer you might actually enjoy. She's you in a woman's body".

She grinned, he frowned.

"It's not a happy romance novel, then?" he inquired.

"Nope".

"And she doesn't write about phony couples?"

"Actually, she does".

Cal gave her an expression of mixed disgust and contempt, which was obviously not directed at her but at the thought of "phony couples". Gillian laughed and held up her hand.

"No, wait-" she started. "It's not what you're thinking". She shook her head, remainders of her laughter still escaping her lips.

Cal scooted in closer to her and turned, lying down against her lap, his head resting on the arm of the couch and his feet propped up on the other side. He intertwined his fingers and placed his hands over his stomach.

"Surprise me, Foster" he drawled in his thick, heavy accent. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair as she took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"What can you do-"

Cal coughed loudly and held up a hand apologetically as the other one covered his mouth. She waited, still stroking his hair, and after a few seconds he motioned for her to go on.

"What can you do if you are thirty and, turning the corner of your own street, you are overcome, suddenly by a feeling of bliss - absolute bliss! –", Gillian recited in a soft voice, "as though you'd suddenly swallowed a bright piece of that late afternoon sun and it burned in your bosom, sending out a little shower of sparks into every particle, into every finger and toe? ..."

"That's so you" Cal scoffed.

"Hey!" Gillian protested. "Don't interrupt me!"

"I'm sorry, love, but I have never felt like I'd swallowed a piece of sun" he chuckled, mocking her.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that" she replied, and gently twirled the hair on the back of his head between her fingers. Then she continued. "Oh, is there no way you can express it without being "drunk and disorderly"? How idiotic civilisation is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle? "No, that about the fiddle is not quite what I mean," she thought..."

Cal listened to her in quiet fascination, though he would never admit to it. The passion with which she pronounced every single word actually made him want to read something other than research, legal documents and reports.

He idly ran his fingers along her leg, making small circles and swirling lines, his eyes fixed on a blank spot on the wall in front of him while he listened attentively.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and concentrated on her voice, how the words seemed to fall from her lips gracefully, how the Rs rolled off her tongue and the Ss made a sibilant sound, almost like the whistling of the wind.

Gillian made a short pause and looked at him from the corner of her eye. She saw that he was breathing slowly, and he looked peaceful, his face showing no expression at all other than a pleased little smile playing on his lips.

"For the dark table seemed to melt into the dusky light and the glass dish and the blue bowl to float in the air. This, of course, in her present mood, was so incredibly beautiful ... She began to laugh."

She paused again, a little longer this time.

"Her laughter woke up the dog, Barney, and it started barking loudly. This made her so angry that she threw the blue bowl at the animal, though she missed it for an inch".

Cal's eyes shot open.

"Oy!" he frowned. "What dog?"

"Oh!" Gillian laughed, taken by surprise. Her eyes twinkled.

"I was listening to you!" he complained in a high pitched voice.

"I'm sorry" she said in between giggles. "I thought you'd fallen asleep".

Cal looked up at her, his expression something in between happiness and disbelief. They held each other's gaze for a moment.

"Barney?" he frowned. "Completely spoiled the mood, Foster. You actually had me hooked for a moment".

"I told you you'd like her!" Gillian smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, well, now I'll have to read it again without thinking about the bloody dog" he whined as he pulled himself up with both hands and stood beside her.

She closed the book with a grin and observed him. He was not that upset.

She could tell he was debating whether to fill her in on what was going on, or not. His hands went into his pockets and he turned to look squarely back at her.

"A friend of mine called" he blurted out.

"Oh?"

"He needs help with a case" he cut himself short, not really sure how to say this.

Gillian placed the book on the couch beside her feet, tilting her head to the side.

"And?" she probed.

"It's in London".

She froze for a second, then shifted her position.

"What do you mean, in London? Can't we work from here?"

He shook his head.

"No. Believe me, I insisted that it was not necessary for us to go up there, but-"

"But what? You mean you already took the case?" her eyes went wide and her eyebrows furrowed.

He ran a hand through his hair, agitated.

"No. Not exactly. But he and I go way back, and I feel like I owe it to him".

"Since when do you owe anything to anyone, Cal Lightman?"

"I just do, okay?" he replied quickly, his face becoming neutral, though Gillian could see a hint of annoyance. Then he relaxed. "Listen, if you do not object, you and I go up there for a week at the most. He will put us up and if we don't solve whatever it is in a seven day period, we come back and that's it".

She remained silent for a few seconds, and he sat down beside her.

Wagging his eyebrows, he continued, "I promise it'll be fun".

"Shut up, Cal".

She shoved him gently, biting her lip as she tried to conceal a smile –but to no avail.

After a moments' silence, she looked back at him.

"What about Torres and Loker?"

"Short cases, catching up on reports, and telling anyone else that we're on hiatus for ten days", he explained nonchalantly, swirling his hand around.

"Sounds like you got it covered" Gillian answered. Then there was a thought in her eyes. She shifted again on the couch to face him. "Ten days?" He didn't even flinch. "You said a week, Cal".

His mouth was hanging open and he cocked his head to the side to examine her.

"It's the same".

A small smile played upon Gillian's lips as she tried to read his impassive face.

"You planned all this, didn't you?"

Cal pouted.

"So?"

"What was that? Some kind of trick to see how well I could read you?"

Cal gave her a half crooked smile.

"Truth is, love, you can't read me. I just let you. Which doesn't mean you'll always be able to".

He raised his eyebrows in amusement at her silent response.

Gillian sighed. "Is there really a case anyway?"

"Oh", Cal started, "'course there is. I just thought since we were at it we could take a few days, you know, us two".

She frowned, then leaned back and propped her feet up on Cal's lap, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay" she shrugged.

He leaned in and gave her a soft, quick kiss.

"Good, 'cause I've already got the plane tickets".

"You're terrible. Do you ever consider my opinion on things?"

He lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spooning up behind. He kissed the back of her neck and pulled her closer.

"Can't say I do, love" he teased.

Gillian shook her head and smiled, resigned.

"I'm not sure how I should respond to that".

"I have a few ideas in mind…"

Cal's hand moved up the hem of her shirt and he traced his thumb along the curve of her hips and up to her waist, gently nibbling on her earlobe.

Gillian cocked her head to the side to give him better access, a pleased hum reverberating in her throat.

Then she turned around and put her arms around Cal's neck, looking into his eyes.

"As good as this feels… I think we should save our energies" she whispered seductively. Cal groaned. "For London, I mean".

Cal snorted and pressed his mouth to her shoulder. "I know exactly what you mean, Foster, and you're not talking about the case" he told her as his kisses traveled up her skin until they found her lips.

She pulled away for a second.

"What makes you think I'm not?" she asked innocently.

He smiled smugly.

"Your face is flushed, your ears are burning, and your leg is wrapped around mine. In other words, you want me".

She cut her eyes at him, though her expression was that of amusement.

"Well" she started. "I think you're not in much of a position to talk".

She boldly pressed herself against him, feeling the growing bulge in his jeans, and grinned.

"Touché".

Cal looked like the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

"This is unfair" he blurted out.

"How so?"

"You can't leave me like this" he said in an almost pleading tone.

The doorbell rang. Gillian raised an eyebrow, then sighed dramatically.

"Looks like I have no choice".

She kissed him again before getting up off the couch. Cal moaned in disappointment and sat up, while he watched Gillian walk over to the front door, swinging her hips deliberately with each long step.

This was going to be harder than he thought.