A/N: The muse struck again this afternoon, so I decided to finish with a bit of Callian goodness, rather than letting Gillian's scene with Alec be the final piece in this puzzle. Thanks again to all of you who have read / reviewed / messaged me, and especially thanks to CommonFlower for the messages earlier today. :)
Enjoy!
The package had been placed in her in-box, wrapped in a plain brown envelope and marked only with her name on the front. "Doctor Gillian Lightman," the label read. It was neatly handwritten, and though the sender had done his best to keep everything inconspicuous, she recognized Cal's elegant script immediately.
So much for anonymity.
With mild amusement, Gillian slid the sharp metal point of her letter opener through the seal and peered at the contents inside. She saw only a few printed pages, and she quickly spilled them onto her desktop, wondering exactly what Cal was up to now.
The pages landed face-up in front of her, neatly printed and evenly spaced. There were codes and initials and checkmarks – markings with certain dates, and everything seemed to be written in some type of foreign code she'd never seen before. It was odd, yes… but she didn't give it much thought until a few moments later, when she began to straighten the pile.
And that's when she found his note. It was written on a plain white card, with the same elegant script that adorned the label: "Looks like we still have a bit of unfinished business, love."
Gillian grinned. Challenge accepted.
Without bothering to knock, Gillian popped her head through Cal's doorway and flashed him a charming smile. His head was bent over a case file, shoulders slumped in typical form, and though he appeared to be working, she knew otherwise. He was just playing possum. Waiting for her to call him on his little delivery.
"Hard at work, I see?" she offered. She took a few tentative steps toward his desk, papers tucked discreetly behind her back as she moved, and before she'd even made it halfway across the room he was on his feet, grinning at her like a little boy who was about to get exactly what he wanted.
He was so predictable.
They stood feet apart – Cal, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and an undeniable sparkle in his eye, and Gillian with a look of amused determination set across her entire face – and with total confidence, each looked the other up and down. Slowly. From head to toe and back again, as if they had all the time in the world to simply stand there and admire the view.
He knew exactly why she was there – knew that she wouldn't have been able to stay away. And even still, he did not break character. Not even for a microsecond.
"Something like that, yeah."
Gillian nodded, perfectly willing to play right along with him. Because it was fun, and because it was risky, but mostly just because she loved him. "Interesting case?"
With measured, even steps, she did not wait for his answer as she began to cross the room in front of him. Her proximity was close enough that she reached one hand out and dragged it suggestively against his desktop, letting her fingers trail along behind the rest of her body as she moved. And when she finally reached the other side – near the bookcase that separated his exterior office from his interior study, she paused to lean against the doorframe suggestively.
Black heels, red dress, and a little bit of sass for good measure. By the look on Cal's face, it was already working.
He shrugged. He was still completely in character… still completely confident. "It's nothing that can't wait until later," he said casually. "And you? Haven't seen much of you today. Every time I passed your desk you were either on the phone, in a meeting, or pecking away on your keyboard with an irritated little pout. Gotta tell you, Gill… all work and no play can make for rather tense relations around the office, yeah?"
"Is that so?" she asked. Knowing full well where his commentary was heading. Namely, that it would soon be circling around to the issue of the papers that she was still holding behind her back.
It was the proverbial angel versus devil debate. On one hand, they were at work. In the middle of the day. In the middle of the building, where prying ears and security cameras were literally all around them. Watching and listening, just as they'd been trained to do. On the other hand, it was their company. It was their building, and their resources and they were married, for heaven's sake. With a son. A young, highly energetic son who'd been born a natural night owl.
The translation? Their time together at home was seriously limited. And since Gillian's hours had been scaled back, their time together at work was limited as well. They had to be resourceful. Spontaneous.
And as Cal not-so-discreetly mentioned, all work and no play did create… tension.
Cal gave a soft noise that was part growl, part groan, then turned his body so that he faced her full on. He stood in front of his desk, still several feet away from her, but she could easily read the words that he had not yet brought himself to speak aloud. He had her right where he wanted her – hook, line, and sinker.
Under his scrutiny, she blushed. "You're crazy, you know that?" she teased. "Crazy, Cal. And I don't know why I'm even standing here right now, even considering…"
He grinned. "Yes, you do."
That made her falter, just a bit. Made the final few traces of her resistance melt away, because of course she knew. She knew it as soon as she took those pages in her hand and walked into his office. He was crazy, yes… but her? She was crazy right along with him.
Still, she didn't want to make it easy. She didn't want him to think that he could do… this… anytime it pleased him, just to get a reaction. Because he would. He definitely would.
The thought alone made her shiver, which in turn made her blush even deeper… and those, in turn, made her even more stubborn to retain the upper hand. And so she stuck her chin out defiantly and set her jaw in a tight little line. She didn't look angry at all – just stubborn. Which pretty much backfired immediately, because Cal absolutely loved Stubborn Gillian.
He loved her. Loved her spirit, and her confidence, and every single solitary thing that the persona represented: passion, and energy, and a fire that was all his.
All. His.
The smile he continued to give her turned gradually wolfish, until he finally began to approach her again. "You thought I forgot about it, didn't you?" he breathed.
Gillian's smile was slow-spreading, and she felt the excitement flow through her features one by one – from the top of her head, all the way to the soles of her feet. She remembered the conversation as if it had just happened yesterday.
"None were as crazy as your ladder idea, though. That one topped them all, hands down," she'd told him, her voice dripping with confidence.
"Is that your clever way of giving me a big, fat no, then?" he'd replied. "'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."
Her reply had been instantaneous. "Rest assured, Cal… whenever that particular fantasy does come to fruition, I guarantee you it will be a spontaneous decision."
By the time her walk down memory lane was finished, Gillian's pulse was racing and her fingers were beginning to twitch. She was excited. Wholly and irrationally excited. And Cal could see it like a neon sign. He approached her with slow movements – painstakingly drawing everything out because he knew it would excite her that much more.
And as always, he was right.
"Where did you find these, anyway?" she asked, lifting the pages from behind her back and fanning them out in front of her chest so that they lay face up, between them. "Tell me Cal, are there any more of these little betting sheets hidden around here, or are these the only ones?"
Without waiting for an answer, Gillian dropped the pages to the floor and ran a single manicured nail up the center of Cal's chest, tracing around his buttons as she went. She felt, rather than heard, the groan that ran through him as she moved – like a low, warm rumble that radiated out from the center of his ribcage and then back again, following the path of her hand. Encouraging her.
"Just those, love. Although… we could start another round, yeah?"
She giggled. He was incorrigible. "Hate to break it to you, Cal, but there are pictures of our son all over this office, and in mine. Our employees have met him many, many times. They were at the anniversary party… at the wedding… and I can't count the number of times they've all seen us kissing. So the fact that we have sex? It's kind of yesterday's news."
In one smooth move he turned her, so that her body faced the doorway to his study, and the ladder – standing inconspicuously in the corner, not ten feet away – was directly in their line of vision. He was setting the scene… setting the pace… toying with her and with himself. "Right you are. But, what I meant was something a little more… private."
Cal stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist as he slowly walked them towards their target. She heard the lock to his sliding door engage as they passed it, securing them from any outside interruptions. With each step, he dropped a soft kiss to the shell of her ear, and by the time they arrived in front of it Gillian was wound so tightly that her breathing was barely under control. She kept trying to turn around, but strong hands on her waist and soft lips on her neck kept dissuading her.
"Sounds more like a wish list to me. You and I are both too stubborn to bet against each other. And we'll do whatever it takes to win, right?"
He chuckled, and the sound of it sent shivers straight down her spine until she arched her back against him and pressed her bottom against the undeniable evidence of his arousal. "Whatever it takes?" he breathed.
Before she could respond, his body shifted and he deftly spun her around until she was backed right against the ladder. Panting and grinning up at him so excitedly that he growled – an actual, audible growl that hit her right between the legs.
"So then, if I were to say something like, "I, Cal Lightman, bet that you, Gillian Lightman, cannot resist having a little moonlight rendezvous in the swing on our back porch, then by your logic, you would be, what…?"
Understanding his game, Gillian propped one foot on the bottom step and leaned backwards until she was lying against the wooden structure. Waiting for him… following his unspoken rules, but still finding a way to bend them just enough so that they jumped a few paces ahead.
"I would be… enjoying the hell out of each and every one of the tricks you'd use to try and win that bet."
"Tricks, Gill?" he said, feigning innocence. "Now would I do something like that?"
She giggled. Of course he would. And as for her? Well, she'd learned from the best.
Gillian pressed against his chest as she sat up and stepped away from the ladder. The momentary confusion on Cal's face was the only opportunity she needed, and seconds later she'd spun them so he was the one with his back against the rung. And with a glinting gleam in her eye, she slowly sunk to her knees in front of him. Pacing herself. Teasing him, just as he'd done to her. Looking up at his dark-eyed expression and groaning at the open, unchecked desire she found in his features.
With slender fingers, she reached for his belt buckle. "It's just like I told you before," she said with a smile. "Spontaneity is the key."
And with that, there was no more talking.
And neither of them ever looked at Cal's ladder with a straight face again.
END
(Yes, I know I said that after the last chapter, but this time I really mean it... :) )
