Part 1: You Don't Lie To Me Chapter 37, a lie to me fanfic

Cal woke sluggishly and rolled to find his wife's body in the bed next to him. She was lying on her side with her back to him and she was naked, the white sheet draped over her hip, leaving her back exposed. It was golden brown, evidence that they were in the Caribbean and she was making the most of the beautiful weather. Cal had tan lines too, from where his t-shirt and shorts ended but the tan was not as well defined. He was too British to tolerate much heat. This early in the morning though, the warmth coming off of Gillian's body was perfect. Cal shifted closer to her, placing an arm over her waist, a hand firmly on her flat stomach. He pressed his nose into her neck gently and breathed in. She was so soft and warm. She had a peach body wash that she used in the shower and he could smell it faintly on her skin from last night. Sometimes after they made love he could smell it on his skin. Gillian shifted her head slightly but didn't wake or stir more than that. Cal held her tighter and closed his eyes again. This was his wife!

When Cal woke up again it was only partially and it was only because Gillian was slipping out of his embrace. "Where you goin'?" He muttered sleepily.

"Bathroom," Gillian whispered back.

Cal rolled onto his back, his eyes still closed and waited for her to return. Forty-five minutes later he woke again and realised he was alone. He sat up. The room was empty. The sun was bright and the open window was allowing a breeze to ruffle the white curtains. He listened for Gillian in the bathroom but the bungalow was silent. Where'd she go? He tried to throw back the sheet but it was tangled around his legs. He fought it away, his annoyance growing. He slipped on underwear and then shorts and noticed a cream envelope on the dresser. It had his name on it in Gillian's handwriting. Curiosity subdued his irritation and a stray irrational thought about abandonment. The envelope wasn't sealed. He slid out a heavy sheaf of paper. It was folded in half. Cal tucked his hair behind an ear and turned to the window for better light.

Dear Calvin,

His heart started thundering.

Cal found Gillian sitting in the sand under a palm tree, looking out at the ocean. She had a distant expression on her face and she was absently trailing her fingers through the white sand near her hips. She didn't look up at Cal until he was a few feet away. He had the envelope in his hand and she glanced at it first before letting her eyes settle on his face. She gave him a slow warm smile that reached up to her blue eyes, making them sparkle with her obvious joy.

"Good morning."

"Mornin' luv." Cal dropped casually into the sand next to her. He waved the envelope to indicate that his next question was in reference to it. "How long have you been holdin' on to this?"

Gillian gave a slight shrug and turned to the water again. "A while."

"Why did you give it to me now?"

"I wanted to tell you how I feel, and I didn't get the chance otherwise."

Cal hoped that wasn't a deep-seated dig about his request to not say vows on their wedding day.

Gillian turned to him with another smile. "And we're going home so I thought we should go out on a high."

Cal watched her intently. And she studied him just as carefully. "Thank you," Cal finally said in a low tone. "It was beautiful." He gestured with the envelope again, an understatement in the least. He had almost cried. He would never admit that to anyone. Only his parents called him Calvin. And Gillian had picked the perfect moment to refer to him by that name for the first time.

"I meant it," Gillian leaned over and kissed him.

Cal felt his stomach lurch. If it was possible, he loved her even more. God, was he a lucky bastard. The letter showed she loved him just as much.

"I have something for you," Gillian announced. She was sitting on her legs, on their bed and she had that gleeful anticipation about her that meant she was excited about something. She had a plastic bag in front of her and she was guarding it with her hands.

"What's that then?" Cal asked unbuttoning his shirt.

Gillian gave him an expression that was a mix between a warning and knowing something he didn't. "It's underwear."

"Undawear?" Cal echoed unimpressed. So what. He whipped the shirt from his shoulders and threw it in the washing basket in the bathroom.

"Yeah, but before you make up your mind completely, just try them on."

Cal was immediately suspicious. He narrowed his eyes at her and stepped closer to the bed. "What is it?"

Gillian opened the bag and produced a wad of dark blue material. She unfolded the clothing and held them up to show him.

"Boxas? I don't like boxas."

In fact, Cal had announced that quite spectacularly once during a case, to a room of witness's.

"These are boxer briefs."

"So they're like briefs but shorts?"

"Yes, exactly."

Cal was dubious and it clearly showed on his face.

"Will you at least try them on? And then if you don't like them," she shrugged to mean she didn't care.

"All right," Cal relented unbuttoning the top of his work trousers. Gillian threw the boxer-briefs at him. He slipped out of his trousers. "What's the fascination with these then?"

"I like them," Gillian responded.

"Oh you like them," Cal realised.

"Yeah, they're kinda sexy."

"Who knew men's undawear could be sexy," Cal teased but noted more to himself. He pulled the boxer-briefs up to his hips, readjusting them so they were not tugging anything in the wrong direction. "What do you think?"

"Very nice," Gillian responded with a grin. She twisted the ring on her finger, a sign, Cal had learnt in the last month, that meant she was thinking about him. Maybe fantasising was a more accurate term. "What do you think?"

"Yeah they're comfortable," Cal admitted.

"Enough support?"

Cal dropped his dirty socks into the washing basket and placed his work trousers over the back of a chair that was on his side of the room. He walked back to the bed. "Yeah," he told her. She smirked at him. "Is this how our marriage is gonna be then?" Cal asked leaning down to the mattress.

"What's that?" Gillian played along.

"You, changin' my undawear? Are you gonna get me to cut my hair next?" He moved closer as he talked.

"No," Gillian answered. "I like your hair fine."

Cal was close enough to kiss her now. He leant in far enough to almost touch her, but not quite. Gillian's eyes remained open, staring deep into his. He could see her pupils dilate in front of him. She twisted the ring on her finger again. He gave a slight smile before kissing her gently. Then he pulled away and she followed him with her mouth, kissing him a little more deeply. She placed her hands on his upper arms. Cal couldn't shift his, otherwise he would collapse. Gillian pulled away but rested her forehead against his. "I also bought new underwear. Do you want to see it?" She asked softly.

"I think so yeah," Cal answered just as gently.

Gillian gave him a quick kiss then slipped off the bed, the plastic bag in her grip. Cal was going to protest that her leaving the room to change was unfair but stopped; it might be more fun this way. He lay back against the mattress, stretching out with his arms tucked behind his head on the pillows. He had to wait five minutes before the bedroom door pushed open again and Gillian stood in the doorway.

Cal felt his jaw drop open. "Holy shit," he muttered impressed.

Cal stroked Gillian's hair. "You awake, luv?"

"Mh hmm."

"Rememba I said I wanted to go to Africa?"

"On a research trip?" Gillian asked.

"Yeah."

There was a pause.

"What about it?"

"I'm gonna go next month."

Gillian tensed slightly against him; an involuntary reaction. "Next month," she repeated. She sat up and gave him a disbelieving expression through bleary eyes.

"I did tell you I was goin'."

"We just got married."

Cal hesitated. It was hard to tell if she was berating him or complaining or refusing to let him go. "A month ago," he tried.

Gillian watched him silently for a moment. "How long are you going for?"

"Four months."

"Geeze," she muttered. "To Africa?"

"Yeah for some of the time and then Mongolia and then Vanuatu."

He had clearly been planning this for awhile without her knowing. Gillian didn't know if she should be offended by that or not. They were married now but they had never asked permission from the other to do anything. That independence was clearly to continue. Cal had always been a free spirit anyway. She lay down again. She should have been annoyed but it was Cal and he prayed on the unexpected; she was kind of used to it. "You're not going alone though?"

"Nah, I'm puttin' a team togetha."

Of course.

"Do you wanna come?"

"No thanks. Sleeping on the floor in a tent in the middle of the African desert doesn't do much for me."

Cal chuckled lightly.

"Besides, one of us has to actually work."

Cal kissed the top of her head. "Thanks luv."

"You'll call right?" She asked anxiously.

"When I can."

"Ok," Gillian sighed. Her diaphragm felt tight. That was the best promise she was going to get out of him and it didn't make her feel any better. She had his itinerary and numbers of a few places where she could leaves messages that he assured her would get to him. Eventually. In case of an emergency. Otherwise he would be unreachable. His cell phone was staying in the U.S with her. He didn't want to be reachable. Not because of her, because of everyone else.

"Is it all right for Emily to stay in the holidays?"

"Of course."

"For the whole holidays?"

Gillian hesitated. "Yeah."

"If that's not all right…"

"No it's fine. It's totally fine. But is she not going to stay with her mother?"

"Nah. She didn't say why," Cal answered her next question before she could ask it. "I said she could use my car so long as she doesn't destroy it and she said she was gonna maybe stay with some friends so she won't be in your hair the whole time."

"Not that I mind."

Cal gave her slight smile. "Sorry to spring it on you at the last minute."

Gillian gripped his shirt tighter, afraid to let him go. She didn't care that they were in a crowded airport. She also didn't care that she was clinging to him, that she was showing her desperation. She wasn't going to voice it. She wasn't going to ask him not to go but she also wasn't going to pretend that she wasn't going to miss him terribly and she wasn't hurt by the timing. They had only been married for close to two months now. "Doesn't matter."

Cal studied her face like he always did and Gillian stared back, not so she could read the emotions on his face, but so she could commit his features to memory. His blue eyes. His newly cut, shorter hair, that she actually really liked, that was flecked with grey at the temples. The slight upturn of his lip that showed he was amused. She liked that expression. He seemed happy when he smiled like that. She could tell he was excited to go and she refused to allow herself to burst that bubble for him. So she crammed down her tears into the pit of her stomach and tried hard to clamp a lid shut on her nerves. She hoped he didn't see her fears in her expression and kissed him tenderly before letting go of him so he could board the plane.

"Do you ever worry about Dad?"

'All the time.'

"In what way?" Gillian asked hoping Emily hadn't heard something about Cal, who was still on the other side of the world, that she hadn't. She hadn't heard anything from him yet.

Emily looked uncomfortable but mildly concerned. "Don't tell him I asked or anything but, do you think he'd ever…" she paused and looked up. "I mean, what happened to Grandma."

Gillian clicked.

"Do you think he would?"

Gillian honestly didn't know the answer to that. She would lie to protect Emily, to make her feel safe, but Emily had a knack of seeing things like her father did and she would see through Gillian immediately. She just wasn't that good a liar. "I'd like to think he wouldn't."

"But you think he could?"

"Are you worried about something in particular?"

"No, just thinking."

"About suicide?" Gillian had to ask.

"Not personally," Emily clarified casually. Then she giggled. Gillian quickly saw the humour too and laughed and the tension was broken. "I was just thinking about Dad, you know, because he's away, and how he never talks about certain things. Grandma and Grandpa being two of those things." She sighed. "I wish he'd talk to me more."

"It's not in his nature."

"Does he not talk to you about stuff too?"

"Sometimes," Gillian admitted.

"How do you stand that?"

Gillian gave a slight shrug. "You get used to it. There are other ways to read Cal."

"Like his science?" Emily asked with an amused smile.

"That helps," Gillian grinned back. Oh, the irony. "Cal doesn't express himself through words, he uses gestures, actions."

"So you would never know he was going to do something stupid unless he picked up a knife or a bottle of pills?"

"Seriously, are you worried?" Gillian's tone sobered. She wondered if there was something she had missed. Something Emily knew but she didn't.

"No. But then, I wouldn't know what to look for."

Then Gillian remembered Emily had done a few psychology papers last semester and this conversation made much more sense. And what had also probably made the young woman think about it was the fact someone she had gone to school with had killed themselves at just fourteen years old. "No one really knows what to look for when it comes to suicide. Some people speak out, reach out for help. Others put their things in order and become peaceful. And others just withdraw into themselves. Cal would never say anything to anyone if he was unhappy. I know, because of your Grandmother, that he's susceptible to depression, and I guess you are too, but he seems fine to me."

Lie, lie, lie.

"Would you talk to someone if you were unhappy?" Gillian continued.

Emily looked as though she had never considered this. "I guess."

"For Cal's sake, talk to someone," Gillian urged gently. "A friend, someone at school, your Mom. Or me, if you wanted to."

Emily thought for a moment. "I just can't believe Grandma would do that to Dad and Uncle Thomas."

Neither could Gillian. Depression was not something she had experienced and suicide was not something she had ever spent time thinking about. It made her nervous though, with Cal on the other side of the world and that shadow hanging over his head. Things had been getting better for him, but it was still there. She did worry but she didn't want Emily to see that. And boy would she be pissed off if Cal did that to her. Beyond pissed off.