A/N: Judging by the decreasing number of reviews, this story doesn't seem to go down well with readers. Hm, is that so? Or is everybody just on vacation?

However, here is the next chapter. Be warned that things get tense and even a bit ugly between Cal and Gillian. There is a reason why the story is labeled as "angst". It has to get worse before it gets better. Rating is a strong "T" for content and language (including an f***-bomb). References to 2x11 Beat the devil.

My heartfelt thanks to those of you who reviewed, PM'ed me or added the story to your alert/favorites. Your support and kind words encouraged me to continue with the story. Writing would be very lonely without you.

PS: I'm a little behind with reviewing other stories and answering PM and promise to catch up on it on the weekend.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were, never will be, and this is so sad.

Cal has a reputation as a womanizer, but the truth is he didn't sleep with half as much women as everyone seems to believe. Deep down, he is a man for a long-term relationship, wants the commitment. Considering the way he behaves most of the time, it just doesn't look like it at first sight simply for the reason that after his divorce he isn't willing to settle for less than perfect and as long as he isn't ready to settle, he is on the hunt.

Gillian.

Maybe he is ready to settle. Right from the start, she fascinated him as a woman, as an expert, let alone her affectionate and interesting personality. That's why he asked her to be his business partner. The fact that they became friends, very close friends, in addition to it was an unexpected, marvelous gift. Due to her upcoming divorce, she has become an option, his obsession. It was a completely selfish act to kiss her that night in her hotel room although it was too wonderful to regret it. He would be lying if he pretended that he didn't welcome her decision to postpone their talk about it afterwards even if it was him who addressed the subject (he felt obliged to do so in order to ease his guilty conscience). But she told him they were okay, and that was all he needed to know although he was aware that she meant okay as friends and his newish interest in her has nothing to do with being friends.

Yes, maybe he is ready to settle, indeed. He still is also on the hunt, though, because this certain prey always seems to be one step ahead of him, and for once in his life, he doesn't know what to do. Well, except for lashing out with words in an effort to hurt her or act like a stubborn child. As he did in Vegas.

After their kiss and the decision to postpone their necessary talk about it, part of Cal hoped that his interest in Gillian would pass, simply go away, so that they could go back to being friends and harmless flirting. But it didn't. Instead, he wanted her more and more with every passing day. To this day, that hasn't changed. Her behavior drives him crazy sometimes, but whenever he looks at her, he doesn't care because all he can think of is that he wants her in that worst possible way he admitted to Burns once. Whenever he thinks that she finally lets him have her, though, not only for now but for a bit longer (he can't even think the word forever in this context; it has too much potential to hurt him if it, they, won't work), she backs out. As she did in Vegas.

That night, at the bar, Cal could think of nothing else than holding Gillian close. Her body pressed against his. And not with several layers of clothes between them. No, skin against skin. And when she pulled her dress up, he could almost feel her, imagined how it would be, his body screaming in anticipation. One second the sweetest release was within arm's reach and the next it was miles away. She was miles away after she practically ran out on him and barricaded herself in her hotel room. He knew she was in there because he could hear her pace back and forth. Her soft steps. Unmistakeably. She had to hear it in his voice. The desperation, the need, the guilt (again because another time it was him who initiated something like that). She is the voice expert after all, isn't she? Nevertheless, she didn't open the door, didn't talk to him no matter how desperately he begged her.

Cal had promised himself not to do anything foolish in Vegas and ended up going for the worst of all possible choices. Not because Gillian rejected him. It hurt, but it also was to be expected, at least to a certain extent and without the running away from him part. Everything was still fresh. Her divorce. Gillian isn't the kind of woman to sleep with the next best man just because she is not married anymore. Even if it is him, no, correction, especially not if it is him. After all, she is the reasonable one of them. (Or used to be, Cal rectifies his thoughts because lately it seems to be the other way round although he can hardly be considered to be reasonable, and that says a lot about the changes that took place.) Back then, though, it was Vegas, and she was right to reject him. If only for the reason that as much as he felt certain, he still was blinded by the lights of that city.

But even if Gillian was right to reject him, the fact that she didn't talk to him no matter how hard he tried to get through to her was the one thing Cal couldn't handle. And he reacted Vegas-style – over the top, overstepping the boundaries of good taste. He hurt her badly, saw the pained expression she tried to hide the next morning when she found out and many days afterwards. As soon as he saw it, he regretted what he had done. Deeply. Because what Gillian thought had happened wasn't the truth. She had blamed him that he wanted to use her as a surrogate for the slut. Bloody hell! It was exactly vice versa. How could she not know that? But how could he tell her in a believable way after what he had done?

He still wants Gillian in that raw, primal way that most likely would make her blush furiously if she were able to read his thoughts. Even more, though, Cal wants them to be happy again, close. Considering the risk that after Vegas he constantly has been on the verge of losing her for good the entire time, Cal is (and was all along) willing to settle for friends and nothing more if this is the only choice he has.

But every time he has come to this conclusion something happens that throws him completely off track. Like a sadistic killer who almost took his life. He should have known that the only thing that would let Gillian forget about everything and simply go for what she wanted was the fear to lose him for good.

Flashback (Cal's point of view)

He could be dead. A sadistic killer – a young student, for God's sake – tortured and almost killed him today. In the end, they caught the killer, and he survived. Everything should be fine, but it isn't. Cal is more shaken by the events of the day than he wants to admit, and usually he doesn't need to admit it because there is someone else worrying about him and taking care of him. Gillian. Today... rather not. When he asked her to have dinner with him, she pretended to have work to do. It was so obvious that it was a pretense, and that he knew it, that she didn't even bother to fake it any better.

So, this is how it is going to be from now on? They kissed, he screwed it all up in Vegas, and now he has to pay for it because she keeps her distance. Cal hates it, but today is not the day to find a solution, let alone fix it. Today is the day to go to a bar and drink himself into oblivion. The alcohol leaves a bad taste in his mouth, though, and he heads home before he is as drunk as he intended to get.

His house is empty and silent. Emily is out of town, visiting some friends for a couple of days. There should be someone else he could call in a situation like this besides Emily or Gillian, but there isn't. Cal doesn't have many friends, and over the years he seems to be losing more of the old ones than gaining new ones. So, no, there is no one he can call. The only person he wants at his side right now is Gillian, but apparently she doesn't want to be here, doesn't want him.

Save that his phone rings when he slouches on his sofa, and a voice that doesn't sound like Gillian but is Gillian asks him whether Emily is home or not. When he tells her no, she isn't, Gillian hangs up without another word. The alcohol makes Cal a bit slower so that it takes him a while to digest what just happened and call Gillian back. His call goes straight to her voicemail like the next two. He can't make sense of any of this and especially doesn't understand why she asked about Emily. Despite the alcohol, he doesn't give in to the sudden urge to call and embarrass his daughter in front of her friends, being the overprotective dad he is, but sends her a text. Emily texts him back immediately. Everything is fine; she misses him, too, and now please go to bed, dad, and let me have an own life. Therefore, nothing is wrong with Emily, leaving the question what is wrong with Gillian.

Just when Cal decides to drive over to her, a little drunk or not, to find out what is going on, there is a knock on his door. It's her. Funny how he realizes for the first time that he also knows the way she knocks on doors. Is there anything he doesn't know about her? Yes, for example why she came over tonight. Or how her soft skin feels that she hides underneath her sexy clothes.

Focus, Cal thinks, pushing back his alcohol induced thoughts, and opens the door.

She practically throws herself at him and into his arms. He doesn't know how, but somehow she manages to kick the door shut before they almost lose balance and stumble against the wall in his hallway.

Gillian didn't even say hello, but her tongue is already in his mouth, and her hands are already under his shirt. For a brief moment, Cal wonders whether he fell asleep and is dreaming because he isn't that drunk or is he? No, this is neither a dream nor his drunken imagination. If he were too drunk, he wouldn't feel it all so clearly, almost precisely. The way her fingernails scratch first his back and then his groin with a desperate urgency. If he were dreaming, he wouldn't be able to see her face. Cal had countless dreams very similar to what is happening right now. He always knew it was Gillian. Nonetheless, he never could see her face. Here and now, he can. When she lets go of him to take a breath (and only now, he realizes that he barely touched her, just held her tight to avoid that they lose balance), one look at her face answers all his questions. Why she is here. What she wants from him. What she needs. All he sees is agony. Pure, heartbreaking agony.

"You could be dead," she whispers, confirming what he saw. "I know that you're alive. But I need to feel you to make sure you really are. Please Cal. Nothing else matters right now."

Nothing else matters. Gillian's code for telling Cal that her actions do not mean forgiveness for Vegas and don't make good for words they didn't say as yet but that she needs this, anyway.

Need. Desire. Those were the other things Cal saw in her face. In the dim light, he isn't able to see her pupils, but he has no doubt that they are as dilated as his.

Later he asks himself whether he would have been able to resist her if he hadn't been drunk. Then again, Cal knows that he would never have been able to resist her, drunk or sober. Not the way she offered herself to him on a silver platter. Not the way she pressed her body against his and kissed him. Fierce and slow with an intensity that turned his legs to jelly. Literally. When he opened the door and she threw herself at him, he wanted to take her then and there in his hallway. When things progressed, though, all he wanted was to lay down with her, next to her, on top of her or vice versa, whatever, as long as he could hold and kiss her.

They end up on the floor in his hallway; sofa or bed seem to be miles away, impossible to reach. The last pieces of clothing are pulled off and kicked away until finally it's skin on skin.

"Don't be gentle," Gillian whispers when Cal tries to hold himself back.

It is the last thing he expects her to say, and yet, no other words could be a better match for the searing pain they are both feeling. He because he almost died, she because she almost lost him. There is no way to be tender and gentle with all this pain inside. Therefore, he isn't, but of course he watches out for signs to be just as not gentle as she likes it or at least needs it right now.

Cal can't tell for the world whether what happens between them is only passion caused by desperation or maybe more. Well, he can't tell when it comes to Gillian. When it comes to himself, he is dead certain that whatever doubts he might have had before and no matter how twisted everything is, this is what he wants to settle for.

Present Day (Gillian's point of view)

Gillian always despised her ex-husband because of his addiction, because he took drugs. Maybe he still takes them; she doesn't know since they are not in touch anymore. Lately she wonders, though, whether she owns him an apology because she also has an addiction. Cal is her drug. He enticed her into wanting more with his kiss, and it worked. Good God, and how it worked. There were and still are so many emotions trapped inside of her. Yet, sometimes nothing else matters than the need to feel him and be close to him. As if she is drowning and he is the only person in the world who can save her.

Like now. You tell me we're okay. She needs them to be okay as much as he does. And if they can't be okay at all levels, can't work it out with words, she at least needs to feel that they are okay. Their stupid argument earlier today. His childish behavior to hold back information on purpose and justify it with that silly cat and mouse quote. Her equally childish non-reaction, walking out on him. They need to erase that with their actions. They did it before, and it worked, kept her from drowning although she doesn't know exactly what it means to him. Or rather she doesn't know it at all. After-sex-talk is not part of their routine. Well, as far as you can call an exception that took place only a couple of times in recent months a routine.

However, tonight doesn't seem to be as easy as the other times. Cal is different and that makes her doubt her own behavior even more. If he doesn't want it like this, does she? Then again, it's not about what she wants, never has been. It's about what she needs. She couldn't stop even if she wanted to. The only one who is able to stop her is Cal. And he obviously gives it a shot.

He holds her upper arms as if he is not sure whether he wants to pull her toward him or push her away. Well, he tries to push her away – as much she already realized. But his body wants her and betrays him. Gillian knows it, and he knows that she knows.

"Don't try to fight it, Cal," she mumbles, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Gill... luv... we shouldn't do this," he attempts another time to resist her, practically muttering the words into her mouth while they are kissing.

If everything wasn't so screwed up, she would have laughed about his words because he is right and wrong at the same time. No, they probably shouldn't do this. But what else should they do? Continue to live in that world in between where every argument has the potential to drive them apart? Isn't it better to remind themselves now and then what is at risk although it is the wrong way to express it?

As it is, she doesn't laugh but ignores him; her hands reach for his belt. Gillian senses that Cal is aware his time is running out. He might want to stop her but if he doesn't stop her now, he won't stop her at all. His body is already busy convincing him of the contrary.

Then, all of a sudden, his hands grab her wrists, and her movements finally come to a halt. Gillian leans back irritated, but Cal seems to be thankful for the distance between their bodies so that he can get a grip on himself. She knows he can't concentrate on anything when she is that close to him. It's their balance of power. A very ironic balance because it's his words versus her body language, and shouldn't it be the other way round considering their field of expertise?

Tonight, though, it doesn't seem to be up to her what happens between them. Cal made his choice. He lets go of her wrists and steps away from her. Apparently, this is the first time that he manages to resist her even if it has to be painful in the true sense of the word. Gillian tries to look at his face and not let her gaze drop to his apparent arousal. He backs out of their little game, and she doesn't know why.

"Okay then," she says, not knowing whether she is angry or sad or simply too exhausted to care.

But when she turns around and heads for the front door, Cal walks past her in a flash and blocks it.

"No. You're not leaving. Not like that."

Gillian stands right under the lamp of his hallway and knows he can read her, see the special expression that is reserved only for him because whenever he doesn't hurt her, he makes her mad and vice versa. She came over to save herself from drowning, and now, it seems as if tonight will be the first night that her savior let's her drown without mercy. There is no way she will stay to let him watch it.

"Bloody hell, Gillian," Cal hisses. "What's wrong with you? I can see that you're not okay. Talk to me."

She wants to say a lot of things like What about you? or Why don't you start?, but anger gains the upper hand, nagging at her and forcing the mean words out.

"Get out of my way."

He doesn't. Instead, he steps even closer, his desperation and rage filling the room until it feels as if she breathes it in.

She thought he was angry when he confronted her with their finances, but that was nothing compared to what she sees and feels at this moment. Gillian has never been afraid of Cal before, no matter how weird or crazy he behaved. Right now, though, she has to suppress the urge to flinch and step back. Even more so, when she hears the words he spits at her.

"So, you came here to fuck me, aye? Well, consider it a vain attempt as long as you don't talk to me first. I'm a little shy."

Jeez! All the angst. Even I want them to get better now (and they will, just a little bit more angst maybe).

Every review is very appreciated (long, short, constructive criticism, praise, your call). ;)