Here we are, at the end yet again. I'm gonna be honest, when I started writing this story I really considered ending it at the previous chapter: life doesn't have always have happy endings.
Thanks for the extra reviews, it t was really nice to see feedback from more people (I also notice a certain appreciation for angsty chapters eh eh, good to know).
Eteri: Poetic justice, yeah. He looked in the mirror and wasn't ready for it. He was being a bit unfair, but when he saw then he couldn't unsee it anymore.
Guest: a bit typical yeah, he really was way too scared to see through it but Gillian put him in his place.
Well, ready or not...
"I'm sorry, love." He whispered then, and Gillian couldn't tell what he was apologising for. Then gently removed his hand from under hers and looked away again, standing up and walking away. "I'm gonna need some time."
Gillian watched him go, not to the kitchen to get food or a much needed drink but up the stairs, likely to his bedroom where he would be alone with his own thoughts. Left to herself, Gillian spared herself the humiliation and uncertainty of waiting for him to come back and continue the conversation. Instead, she stood up and made her way to the door, leaving without a sound or a word more. She might not have been sure what he was apologising for, but she had no doubt about what he meant by saying he needed some time.
The question was how much and what would happen afterwards, but all she could do was wait.
One week later
Watching Lightman at work is always quite the show: he's entertaining, his energy is contagious and the air electrifies when he's onto something. That's all well and good and useful education, but Dr Foster isn't too shabby either. She has the gift of patience and a seemingly innocuous facade, her natural politeness luring people into a false sense of security. But she is as deadly as Lightman when she has to, and probably takes more pleasure in uncovering the truth than him sometimes.
Torres is watching her attentively from the sideline while Foster is in the cube with what has been brought to them as an innocent bystander, but who the police think is the driver of the runaway car in a botched bank robbery. She knows they are right and so does Foster by now, it's all over the man's face but the boss hasn't revealed to him he's been made yet. One thing is to confirm he's in on the robbery, now it's a matter of letting him carry on and get out of him the location of the hideout.
The poor bastard has no clue this is what is happening to him and Foster is taking her time. Since her return, Torres has noticed that side of her coming out here and then; not a mean streak, certainly not like Lightman, but there is definitely a different shade she occasionally brings out when the situation requires it.
Honestly enthralled by Foster's approach, such a delicate balance of good manners and devilish intentions, Torres barely registers Lightman coming into the room. She's the only one following the interrogation, the cube is in blind mode and even if it wasn't Foster is too laser focused on the interrogation to notice there is an additional spectator. Torres tries her hardest not to give too much attention to the newly arrived, she knows he's aware he can be a disturbing factor and tries not to look, knowing that ignoring him would do everybody some good.
Silent, Lightman comes by the desk and sits down next to her, slouched on the chair as usual. Now he's on her peripheral view and he's harder to ignore, so Torres takes a quick look and finds him deeply absorbed in watching the show. There is no emotion of sorts that she can see on his face, except for the total relaxation in his body. The lack of emotions is not new, as of recently at least: Lightman has been unusually quiet since Foster's return, someone who doesn't know him well enough would say he is simply on his best behaviour but there is more to it. Torres knows, Loker does too but since neither of them has been told the whole story about Foster's adventures they just carry on, business as usual. Pretending they don't see the passing tension between the two bosses, the lack of banter that is usually equally entertaining and a little creepy, and all the other little things that seem to be off.
Like that relaxed posture Lightman is, perhaps unintentionally, showing off right now. He's never been one to sit straight like a grown up if he can help it but that day he seems mostly at ease, the liquid posture of his body a sign of internal peace. That is new, Torres thinks: not just in general but even more so for the past week or so, when he's constantly being en guard or tense about something.
Then Lightman glances at her and she looks away as quickly as possible, going back to watching Foster and keeping an eye on the screens. Right on time, because she has just shifted into a different gear and now the man is sweating, fidgeting and possibly about to piss himself, words itching to come out of his mouth.
Before he knows what hit him, it's all over. The location of the hideout comes out of his mouth with ease, as if Foster has just asked him his favourite colour, then people start moving. The officer inside the cube cuffs the man and takes him away while the Detective calls someone to share the location. There isn't much time for pleasantries and that's ok, Foster can see he's grateful and she understands there are more pressing matters he has to deal with. Then he departs too and Foster is alone in the cube, lulled by her success and the white walls around her.
Torres catches a smile on her face, just a hint really, and has one of her own which is far wider and much more complacent. She nailed it, Torres thinks, and she wonders how Foster can be so incredibly skilled, knowing she is, and yet stay so humble. As a reflex, her eyes go to her right where Lightman is still quietly sitting and watching. That's someone not shy about basking in his own glory, she thinks again, but the grin she sees on his face is all for Foster, that much she knows.
Inside the cube, Foster sits down and starts gathering her papers and jotting down notes. Torres rolls her eyes, thinking that she could after all take a page or two from Lightman's book on how to savour her triumph instead of just moving on to the next task. But then again, that is one of the things that sets them apart and thank God for that! Then, all of a sudden, Torres starts wishing she has somewhere else to be. There is still a smile on Foster's lips but something has changed in it, and next to her Lightman is downright staring at his friend as if his eyes could dig a hole through the bulletproof glass of the cube.
Nobody says anything, but she decides that's her cue. Not wanting to detour from the silent path everyone seems to be following, Torres takes care of the dashboard and switches everything off, with the exception of the commands for the blind mode. Her hand goes there but stops, she feels Lightman's eyes on her as she does so and pulls it back. It's creepy, even more because it's such a familiar feeling, but she obliges to the silent request and picks up her things before leaving the room.
Cal listens to her leave, he doesn't turn around on the chair but just waits to hear the beeping of the code punched in on the keypad, then the sound of the door closing behind her. His eyes never leave the cube, he's watching Gillian sitting there like she owns the place and yes, indeed she does. That day, that moment, having just cracked wide open another case; and every other day really, every day she shows up no matter what. She sits there, writing down notes and tidying up information with the ease of someone doodling random lines and shapes on paper while sipping a coffee.
Gillian feels him watching her, she has since the moment he came into the room. She hasn't seen that moment and is yet to see him, but that has become a sad habit. She hasn't seen much of him lately, only what he let her, because she has given him what he asked for: time. That has come with space, two very tricky parameters to observe when running a business together, but she has managed.
For him, for them.
But now she feels him watching her, again, for the first time in days; for the first time in days willingly coming into the same space she is in and at the same time. That is why she is smiling, and that little thing Torres couldn't understand is happiness. Gillian can understand if the younger woman was thrown off by it, there hasn't been much of that going around lately, but that's what she feels. And that is the reason why she's still there, pretending to be busier than what she really is; just so she can let him look at her, see her smile for him and see that she is doing what he asked and has no problem doing it for as long as it's necessary.
Then the white walls of the cube fade and disappear, revealing the world around her. The rest of the room is dark, it usually is and she has always liked the contradiction of the cube of light plunged in the dark lab. But no matter the darkness she can see him, sitting behind the dashboard with his hand still on the consolle. Cal is sitting there, leaning forward, and Gillian knows the only reason why he's perched on the edge of his seat like that is that so his face can be in the light coming from inside the that she can see his smile.
So that she can see the wait is over.
The end
And that was it: was this ending you were hoping for?
Now, I've got bad news and good news: the "bad" news is that it will be a week or so before I start something new, but good news is that I wrote way too much for a 3 parter so it will be at least 4.
