Cal Lightman felt bad. It was two hours after he'd come to Gillian's house and he was now sitting on her couch, having consumed close enough to half a bottle of scotch while Gillian had consumed the other half. His insides felt heavy and restricted. Maybe he was, for the first time since his teenage years, about to throw up from binge drinking.

"I feel like the world's worst dad," he said suddenly. Gillian was perched on the couch next to him, her legs tucked under herself. She wasn't used to drinking quite so much but she found that a serious conversation always had the ability to sober her up.

"Why?"

Cal shifted in his seat so he was facing her. Well up in her personal space, as always. He held his hands up to emphasise.

"Because, she's sat in her mum's house, probably scared, probably listening to all sorts of rubbish and scare stories from the other two….and I'm sat here drunk. What's that about?" Gillian took a sip of her whisky before putting it down on the table, wavering slightly as she leaned. He reached and caught her shoulders to steady her.

"Cal, you're not a bad father, my god you don't even come close…" Cal winced at that but didn't elaborate. Gillian didn't talk much about her relationship with her dad but the throwaway remarks made Cal so curious sometimes that it hurt. He knew they had a strained relationship and he knew Gillian carried the weight of that around with her. She never let anyone else in.

"She needs her mom at a time like this Cal. And this, this is a pretty standard way of dealing with something like this. No one would begrudge you Cal, you've had a couple of very tough days. What would you be doing if you weren't here right now?" she asked pointedly. He shrugged.

"Probably exactly the same thing just at home." He reached for the bottle and refilled both glasses again.

"On your own." Gillian said softly. It was neither an accusation or an expression of sympathy. It was just a statement. A true one. But one that was loaded with something Cal couldn't quite explain in his inebriation. He turned his head to look at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Blimey, you're one to make a man feel good about himself, aren't you?" He laughed and she giggled in response, replaying what she'd said in her head.

"I didn't mean it like that…" she started but he cut her off.

"It's alright, I understand. You see me as Billy-no-mates…" Cal feigned upset and Gillian punched his arm lightly.

"What I meant was, I'm glad you're here and not at home. You shouldn't go through this alone and you definitely shouldn't drink alone with thoughts of it on your mind." She took another sip of her drink, her eyes locking on him for a moment before glancing away again. He smirked.

"So you're saying I should drink with my shrink?" Gillian chuckled again.

"That rhymes. Drink with my shrink…but yeah, I guess that's technically what I am saying. Plus, I've got good scotch." She swirled around in her glass and raised her eyebrows at him. He smiled back and nodded.

"Yes you do. It's damn good scotch." He downed the last of what he had in his glass and made an attempt to stand up. He succeeded only in losing his balance and plonking back down on the sofa, causing Gillian to bounce slightly and lose some of her scotch, onto the knee of her jeans.

"Hey!" Cal grinned, his hand automatically finding the wet spot on the knee of her jeans.

"Sorry love. Your coffee table tried to trip me up…" Gillian scoffed at this before realising his thumb was rubbing circles on the scotch covered spot on her jeans. She swallowed but said nothing. There was complete silence for a moment before Cal seemed to come back to himself.

"I should go home," he said simply.

"You can't drive," she said quickly. He checked his watch and shrugged. Gillian shook her head. This is why she felt happier that Cal had drank here with her. In any normal circumstances, after any normal booze up, Cal would still know that taxis were the only way to go. But his head was all over the place and she knew now from the shrug that he was in no fit state to be let outside the door on his own. He was a hazard to himself and to others.

"Oh no you don't. Give me your car keys." He groaned and began to protest. She reached across him and tried his jacket pockets. He hadn't taken it off when he came in. He tried timidly to push her away but she checked both pockets. They weren't there. She looked at him.

"Where are they?" His eyebrows raised and his eyes sparkled.

"I don't know. You'll have to…explore." The words rolled off his tongue and Gillian, though she wasn't quite as drunk as he, couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes. Oh boy. She glanced down at his jeans pocket. There was a bulge in both – one looked like a wallet. The other looked more promising.

"Give me them." She tried to put on her best unamused tone. He shook his head like a bold child.

"Get them yourself." She sighed in annoyance and reached across, slipping her hand into his pocket and pulling the keys out. She couldn't help but notice the heat he was radiating through his jeans. He was like an oven. Then again, she distinctly remembered being toasty warm in his bed last night but couldn't be sure if it was him or the house because she woke up alone.

"I think you lingered a little there. Reckon I could sue for sexual harassment…" he said cheekily and Gillian shook her head. The Lightman Charm. The ruination of many a woman before her.

"In your dreams," she replied quickly and he chuckled loudly as he caught the hand his keys were in. She looked back at him and he raised an eyebrow.

"You have no idea, love." Gillian swallowed hard again, standing up, he stood with her.

"I think we've both had quite enough to drink, it makes for silly conversation…" she said coyly, still aware of his hand around her wrist. He shrugged a shoulder.

"On the contrary darling, I think it's the most honest we've been with each other in a long time. Or at least most honest I've been anyway…" he added and she tilted her head at this, getting soberer by the second she would argue.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Cal backed off but didn't let go of her hand. She looked at him, head tilted.

"No, go on. Say what you were thinking," she challenged him. She knew it would be the only way to get him to talk. She saw the glimmer in his eyes. He couldn't resist. He brought his free hand up between them.

"I'm glad I'm here tonight with you. I'm glad I'm not at home because I would do something stupid, I know I would. Bloody hell I might still do something stupid here but, I'm with you so…it doesn't seem so bad. That's me, being brutally honest with you, or as honest as I know how. Your turn." She smirked. He returned the challenge. That was so, him. She was about to speak when something he said struck her.

"I…what do you mean you might still do something stupid?" Cal shrugged but she felt his hand on her wrist tugging her very lightly closer to him. She swallowed a small and gave him a quizzical look.

"How stupid are we talking here?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. Maybe she was drunker than she originally thought. He looked at her and smirk.

"Potentially disastrous." She swallowed hard and moved to step away from him but he stopped her. His other hand landed on her arm pulling her back to him.

"Gill, you know that after Emily, you're the most important person in my life, don't you? I mean, God knows what I'd have done by now if you hadn't been around." Gillian shook her head and a lock of hair fell across her face.

"Cal, I've told you before…" She froze when he reached up and pushed the lock of her hair out of her face, behind her ear. She swallowed again. He sighed and looked back at her, his hand still on her neck.

"What were you saying?" he asked and she shook her head.

"I can't remember. Doesn't matter. I'm, I'm going to go to bed." She disentangled herself from Cal's arms and walked toward the archway to the stairs. Cal nodded his head. He knew where the spare room was.

"Goodnight," he said softly. She smiled, tucking his car keys into her jeans pocket. He heard her stocking feet padding up the stairs and he sat back into the sofa, sighing to himself. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled Emily's number without checking the time. She picked up after three rings.

"Alright love? I wake you?" he said when she did.

"No, I can't sleep."

"I hear you. Did you talk to Rick?" Silence. He pushed again. "Emily?"

"He put his hand through a pane of glass. Roger had to bring him to hospital." If the situation wasn't so serious he'd have laughed. He understood that exhibitionistic show of anger too well. He still did it sometimes.

"Did he feel bad about leaving you on your own?"

"Of course he did Dad."

"That's alright then. Well I just called to see if you were ok. I'll talk to you tomorrow ok? Goodnight." He added when she responded. He hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. Then groaning he pulled himself to his feet and headed for the stairs.

OXOXOXO

A bit teasing? Yes, yes it is. Sorry this chapter took a while to appear. The next one may be as long but hopefully not. Enjoy an review!