In the years since their partnership began, Cal Lightman had carefully crafted the art of staring at Gillian Foster. It was the little things, mostly. Peering at her from over his glasses when they leaned in to study a case file… always aiming for the last word in a conversation, just as an excuse to get her to turn her attention back to him before walking away. And his favorite: invading her personal space a thousand times – all under the guise of pushing her buttons – just for the sheer enjoyment of being closer to her. And it had always been low-key, to the point that she often had no idea he'd done it at all. Or at least, she had no idea he'd done it on purpose.

But he did. He always did.

There was no denying that Gillian was beautiful. Because she was; inside and out. She was beautiful and sexy in this understated, yet oh-so-perfect-for-him way that set Cal's pulse flaring and his adrenaline pumping every time he saw her. Every single time. And now that he had the benefit of hindsight in his back pocket, he wondered how he'd managed to resist her for so long. How it was possible to have spent years being flooded by fear and denial, even when the rest of his body practically craved her.

That's what had drawn him there, to the darkened spot outside her office door hours after everyone else had already gone home. The craving. His intrinsic need to be near her.

If anything, it had only gotten stronger since the night they'd first…

"It was Heidi, wasn't it?"

Gillian's voice echoed through the otherwise silent room and caught him off guard. He'd been standing there for several moments now, just watching her. Admiring the length of her legs and the height of her heels, and how each complimented the other in such an absolute perfect way. It was one of his favorite developments of the past few weeks; the fact that he didn't have to hide his attraction anymore. That he could stare openly, if he wanted to; because she was beautiful, and because she was his, and because he'd been denied the chance to do it for so many years.

He tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain, but she swiveled abruptly and faced him before he had the chance to think of a reply. She looked amused. As if she'd known he was there all along and had just been indulging him. Humoring him.

"You're staring," she said. Her eyebrows were raised in a knowing smirk, and he nodded at her. Yep… busted.

He shrugged, and then strode through the doorway. His hands were shoved casually in his pockets, but nervous tension made him fidget. He felt wired; partly the adrenaline rush that came with closing a case. Partly his body's natural reaction to her. "You're worth it."

A beat later, Cal crossed to the couch and flopped across the end nearest Gillian's desk. His body was squared toward hers, and he opened one arm in invitation. "Come 'ere?" he offered. He didn't mean to pose it as a question, but his voice pitched upward at the end anyway, making it sound like one. The look on her face was making him feel a bit… exposed. As if he was about to become the butt of some private, inside joke. She looked for the world like the cat that ate the canary.

Gillian did not move. "Are you going to answer my question?" she said. "Or just try to distract me again?"

Her sly smile gave him pause, and he swallowed. Visibly. Yes… she definitely had a secret.

"I was hoping for the later, love," he said, trying to knock her off her game. "Distracting you is much more fun than office gossip, yeah?"

Gillian's smile widened. She leaned forward slowly, propping her elbows on the desk and giving him an eyeful of her cleavage in the process. His gaze was drawn there instinctively, just as she'd wanted. Tricky, she was; and a master at distraction in her own right.

"You were hoping for the later… or the ladder? As in, the wooden ladder in your study. As in, the wooden ladder in your study that somehow wound up on Loker's clever little betting sheets?"

Embarrassment flooded Cal's face for a brief moment and then it was gone. In its place came a smile that matched the smugness in hers. Because he had no reason to feel uncomfortable about his harmless little fantasy; none at all. The rules were different now, and they both knew it. "Saw them, did you?" he asked. He bared his teeth at her in a wolfish smile, and to his surprise she did the same. Cat… mouse. Suddenly he wasn't sure which one of them was which.

Gillian was on her feet a second later, and right on cue his pulse accelerated. She wore those heels so very well.

She strode toward him slowly, enjoying the look that passed over his face as she moved. Inches from where he sat, she finally stopped. He could've touched her if he wanted to. And bloody hell, he wanted to; instinct just told him to wait. Pace himself. Hear her out first.

"Of course I saw them," she breathed. "Can't say I was entirely surprised to find your name there, either. We all know how you are when it comes to gambling."

She was looking at him with the oddest expression – practically daring him to touch her. Trying to play coy, but failing nonetheless. He knew the feeling well.

"It's you and me, Gill," he answered, finally giving in to desire and stroking his fingertips along the back of her knee. "My favorite kind of bet."

His reward was a shiver; so slight that he would not have noticed it on anyone else, but on Gillian? He didn't miss it. A beat later, she took her place on the couch with him, relaxing her body against his and angling so that she fit the space perfectly. She always did that; they always did that. They were always a perfect fit. The setting didn't matter at all.

"I broke up an impromptu little celebration party in the kitchen this afternoon," she explained. One of Cal's hands came to rest on her shoulder as she spoke, and the other landed on her knee. "Loker, Torres, Heidi… all of them. You'd think by now they would have learned to be a bit more discreet, but no. Not at all. A big wad of cash and a bunch of hushed laughter is about as indiscreet as a flashing neon sign."

"Shall I fire them for you?" he joked, his hand stirring into motion on her knee. "'Cause I can do that, you know. You just give the word and poof… they're out the door."

Gillian laughed. It was light-hearted and airy, and the sound made him feel warm inside. Good lord, he was turning into a sap. A bleeding romantic, even.

"Just like that, huh?" she said.

She snuggled further into him, resting her head against his shoulder, and he began to stroke his knuckles against the expanse of her neck. "Just like that. Take it as one of the many, many advantages of being the boss."

Cal heard her give a soft snort of protest, trying not to laugh at him. "If you need my approval to do it, then doesn't that mean that I'm the boss?" she offered.

He stilled his hand; well played. "Fair point," he admitted. "And I stand corrected. We're the boss, then. Both of us. Fifty-fifty, yeah?"

"Fifty-fifty," she agreed. She twined her fingers with his, and gave his hand a small squeeze. "But just for the record, I don't think we can fire the staff for making bets about our sex lives when you were in on the action yourself. That would be a bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

"S'pose so, love. And by the way, the answer to your question is 'yes.' Heidi won. Wish I could've seen the look on Loker's face when he had to hand over all that money. Bloke was so sure he'd be the winner. All those crazy ideas he had… there were some royal winners in there, Gill. Did you read them?"

She nodded. "None were as crazy as your ladder idea, though. That one topped them all, hands down."

Gillian's voice had taken on an air of smugness once again, and he wondered if there was a punch line she hadn't dropped yet. "Is that your clever way of giving me a big, fat no, then? 'Cause I'm not sure you're giving my idea a fair consideration. It's not crazy at all… it's creative. And there's a lot to be said for creativity, yeah? Bit of spontaneity is good for any relationship."

She turned toward him then, twisting at the waist so that they were face to face instead of being spooned together with his arm around her shoulders. And then she tossed him a playful, frisky look as she cupped his face in her hands and leaned toward his mouth. Her eyes were gleaming.

"Rest assured, Cal… whenever that particular fantasy does come to fruition, I guarantee you it will be a spontaneous decision."

As his mouth dropped open in surprise, she moved even closer. Her words were a heated whisper against his skin. "Remember what I told you earlier? I meant every word. I'm just full of surprises."

Cal wasn't sure which one of them leaned in first – maybe it was simultaneous, maybe not. But the specifics didn't matter. As their lips connected and the kiss gradually deepened, the desire coursing through his veins told him all he needed to know. They were together… truly together. Personally and professionally. And they really were partners. Fifty-fifty, in everything.

When they finally broke apart, Gillian leaned her forehead against his and let out a slow, satisfied sigh. "Take me home?" she asked quietly.

Cal gave a small nod. "My place or yours, love?"

And even as he posed the question, he couldn't help but hope for a time when they wouldn't have to make the distinction. When "home" meant only one thing. Their home. Together.

A/N: At least two more chapters coming... thanks to all of you for sticking with me! I appreciate it!