Cal smirked from behind the steering wheel and fought down the urge to point out the truth: that despite Gillian's best intentions to keep their relationship under wraps, if they kept carpooling to the office, they were going to give the game away pretty bloody quickly. Not that he minded at all. Far from it. And he hadn't been kidding about the whole 'shout it from the rooftops' cliché. He would gladly shout it to the whole world, if she'd let him.

Hell, if they kept up with the secrecy much longer, he might do it anyway. Just because he could. Subtlety wasn't exactly his middle name, and Gillian knew that better than anyone. The thought made him chuckle under his breath, but he managed to hide it behind the low hum of the radio before she could call him on it.

As far as Cal was concerned, Gillian was being silly about the whole thing. What did she think was going to happen if they came clean, anyway? Their friendship had been water cooler gossip for years – hell, someone on their payroll (Loker, he supposed) had started a betting pool ages ago as to which one of them would break first. Would Foster seduce Lightman, or vice versa? It was the age old question around the Group, and it was certainly not hush-hush.

He'd even heard rumors of a little side bet: whether or not they'd ever be caught in the act at the office, and where. It was like their own customized version of "Clue." Foster, in her office, with a killer pair of red stilettos. Lightman, in the conference room, with a bottle of Scotch. Foster, in Lightman's private study, on his ladder.

That mental image of that last one still made him smile. And truth be told, he'd ponied up twenty dollars of his own money just to get in on the action, and he hadn't been able to look at that bloody ladder the same way since.

Gillian was still in the dark about that little detail. And Cal planned to keep it that way for a very long time.

"We're ten minutes late," Gillian said, stating the obvious from the passenger seat and interrupting Cal's train of thought with a small sigh. She sounded more distracted than mad, and she was fidgeting with her hair in the vanity mirror as he drove.

"I wasn't exactly running a stopwatch down there, love. And I didn't think you'd appreciate it if I went cold turkey just as you were rounding home plate. Paybacks for that one would've haunted me for ages."

Gillian made a noise that was part laugh, part frustration, and cocked her head sideways at him. "Fair point," she admitted. "You know me so well."

"Aye, aye," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her as he turned his attention back to the traffic flow ahead. So far, so good. Now on to step two: how to explain the next bit to Gillian with as little… messiness… as possible.

He had not lied. Not technically. Because they really did have a meeting this morning. A very important meeting, which had the potential to change the outcome of a very important case. They were dealing with a missing young girl, who'd gotten herself mixed up in one hell of a bad situation, and a family that loved her and wanted her to come home.

But then again… technically (and he knew that this was the point at which the "messiness" kicked in), their meeting wasn't with a real client at all. It was field research, of sorts. Undercover field research. With a porn producer, at that. And hindsight told Cal that their little morning escapade was probably a smart move, because maybe – just maybe – he'd worked up enough brownie points that she wouldn't be so quick to kill him when he dropped those details on her.

"Feel like hitting up a porn studio, Gill? In the name of science, of course. And just for the hell of it, we're gonna tell the little weasel that runs the place that you're into the whole ménage a trois scene, yeah? That you fancy a bit of girl on girl action. And by the way, we're married. At least for the next few hours. Just to make the whole thing believable. Sound good?"

Rriiigghht. She'd have imploded at the mere mention of his little scheme.

So, in typical Lightman fashion, he decided to wing it and hoped she'd go easy on him. Or at least save her wrath until after they'd met their mark. And then if she opted for physical violence, at least they'd have already gotten the goods.

"So are you planning to tell me why you've brought me to meet with the Porn King of DC, or shall I just go with my gut?"

By the time Cal cut the engine and turned to face her, Gillian's eyes were narrowed in suspicion as she waited for his answer. She was irritated, yes – but there was a trace of humor in her expression that he didn't miss. It was his lifeline, of sorts. Logic told him that as long as she was even the tiniest bit amused – even though she was trying like hell to hide it – then he was probably safe. Or at least safe enough to avoid a knee to the groin or a smack to the back of his head. A win-win, he decided. They'd find the girl, have a little bonding experience, and earn themselves one bloody fantastic conversation starter in the process.

He could practically hear it already.

'Sorry we're a bit late, Loker. Foster and I spent the morning at a porn studio. Didn't think to put that one in your bloody betting pool, did you?'

Priceless. He made a mental note to try it out in range of the video monitors.

Gillian gave an exaggerated sigh and shook her head at him. She was growing less and less irritated with each second, and even though he still hadn't given her any details, she didn't press for them. It was one of the many things he loved about her. That even though he had his own special brand of crazy, she trusted him enough to hold his hand and be pulled along for the ride.

"What's with the grin?" she asked.

Cal absently reached for her hand and tugged it into his lap before answering. "'Porn King of DC?'" he teased. "I take it you're familiar with his work, then."

That one earned him a soft giggle. "Just his reputation."

"A shame, that. Because it would be quite useful if you had a bit of experience with this type of thing."

"With… porn?" she asked rhetorically. She drew the word out involuntarily – like it left a bad taste in her mouth, yet left her curious at the same time. As if she was embarrassed to have said it aloud.

Cal bared his teeth in a boyish grin and leaned his body closer to hers. A dozen smart-assed comments were flying through his brain, but he managed to bite them all back in favor of a tiny little dig at her expense. "Is this like the 'shagging' thing, then? Are you trying to see how many times you can say that word before I hop over the center console and see about giving the professionals a run for their money? Because I'll do it, Gill. You know I will."

She laughed loudly then – a full on belly laugh that lit up her entire face and made him feel ten years younger just for causing it. "I'm not sure if that's supposed to sound like a threat, or more of an 'offer I can't refuse' type of thing, but either way, I think we better focus on work or we're both liable to end up in a rather compromising position in a very public setting."

"Ever think about getting married again, love?"

The question came completely out of the blue, and Gillian's reaction to it was almost as interesting as he'd expected. They were waiting for the elevator – standing side by side in comfortable silence – and she literally grabbed onto the wall for support, lest she pancake to the floor from sheer surprise.

Cal stuffed his right hand in his pocket and bounced forward on the balls of his feet as he studied her. Wide eyes… flushed cheeks… rapid, shallow breathing. She was nervous. Excited. And more than a little bit stunned. Hesitation wove its way across her face and she seemed to struggle with her word choice a bit before finally deciding on an innocent deflection.

"Have you?"

He grinned. Nice try. "I asked you first."

Gillian rolled her eyes and tried to play coy, but he easily saw her answer before she gave it. "I suppose I have, yes."

And it was something about the way her eyes held his after that last word – something about the way she watched him, hesitant but yet still willing to let him to read her – that spoke volumes more than anything they could've said with words. That was the thing with them – the largest part of what made them so utterly compatible, even though on the surface they were as different as night and day. It was the trust. It was intrinsic. And in that moment, he ran with it.

His plan had always been to pose as a married couple. He knew it would be much more believable that way, and he knew they could pull it off. Everyone in the district already assumed they were going at it like rabbits behind closed doors, so it wasn't a giant leap to turn that same intensity toward a bunch of slimy businessmen in the sex industry and pawn it off as legitimate. It wasn't a leap at all.

And so he'd come prepared. Option A was currently sitting in a small box in his left pocket, and option B was tucked away in his right. Both would do the job quite nicely, but only one had sentimental value behind it. And only one felt… right.

Bloody hell.

Two weeks of head over heels happiness with Gillian and he was turning into a sap. But he didn't care. Sappiness was just fine with him if it meant that he got to see that look on her face, and know he was the one who caused it.

As the elevator doors opened, Cal placed his left hand low on Gillian's back to guide her inside the car. His right hand closed around the rings – Option B – and once the doors had closed again, he turned toward her with a timid smile.

"Think this'll do the trick?" he asked. And then as she watched in silence, he placed the jewelry in her palm.

Gillian's face went pale. Ghostly pale, and she raised one hand to her chest as her mouth fell open in surprise. Under any other circumstances, he would've cut the tension with a wisecrack or a laugh or… something… but he didn't. He couldn't. For some strange reason, every smart-assed cell in his brain had gone into hiding as soon as he saw the look on her face.

"Cal, are you…?"

Her tone was a mixed bag of hope and hesitation, and it made him feel like a right plonker for making her think – even for a split second – that he was honestly trying to propose in a lift. Because he wasn't. He wouldn't.

Hell, up until a few days ago the very idea of getting married again wasn't even in his brain at all, much less dancing around in the forefront demanding his attention and looking so damned appealing that it took him as much by surprise as the diamond ring had taken Gillian. And now there they stood, with an engagement ring between them and a hoard of unresolved – yet promising – things to discuss.

Cal let out a deep breath and tried his best to refocus. "No. Not yet. Trust me love, the elevator of a porn studio is no place for such a question to be asked. But we can't very well go in there and pose as a married couple unless we have all the finer details in place, yeah?"

Gillian blinked at him, color slowly coming back into her face. There was the tiniest hint of disappointment, but it was gone as soon as Cal's eyes registered its existence. Then she nodded and took a deep breath, and repeated two of his words. "Finer details?"

He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand and glanced down to see his mother's diamond proudly gracing Gillian's finger. The sight of it took him by surprise, more so than he had expected. But he knew it was a discussion for another time and place, and before he could elaborate at all, the elevator doors opened and they stepped out to wait for their mark.

Cal's mask shifted into place immediately. He was already in character as he pulled Gillian toward his side and leaned over to whisper in her ear. To the people around them, they looked as affectionate as any other couple. Or rather, as any couple who'd come there as prospective clients, and not as a pair of human lie detectors who were discussing the… finer details of their relationship in the lift. And no one in the room was any the wiser when Cal lifted Gillian's hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Just for the record, Gill, that reaction of yours was quite helpful. I'll be filing that one away for future reference, love. You can count on it."

To be continued...

The Option A / Option B thing will turn up again in a later chapter. Had to plant the seed of it here. Thanks for reading!