Gillian wakes to her alarm but this one is set for a much more reasonable hour, and she already does better generally with the later wake time (seven-thirty a.m. instead of two hours earlier than that), no longer feeling like a zombie. She slept well last night, like she has for the last month, since she was released from the hospital (they insisted on waking her every four hours to make sure she was ok. She would have been more ok without the broken sleep). She doesn't sleep in tense cycles anymore and she doesn't wake up wondering where she is; she's no longer confused. After Gillian shuts off the alarm, she gets out of bed straight away. She pulls back the floor to ceiling curtains of the hotel room and lets in the morning light. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day, but she won't be allowed out to enjoy it. She doesn't get to go out in public, unless it's to walk to the vehicle taking her to a meeting, or recently, to the courthouse. The marshals worry about assassination attempts, and given what happened in Colorado, Gillian has trouble faulting them on that logic (she wants to stay safe, definitely alive, probably more than they do).
From the hotel window she can actually make out the Lightman Group office building in the far distance (it reflects the sun like it has its own spotlight) and it makes her miss Cal so fiercely (so physically) she has to quickly crack a window to let in fresh air (sometimes the staleness of air conditioning needs to be countered) and turn away (she does this every morning, and every morning it strikes her so hard that she can't breathe). She goes to the bathroom, strips down and has a quick shower (she might be allowed to sleep in a bit these days, but she still has somewhere to be). She dries her hair in a plush bathrobe and then checks the time. Her breakfast will arrive shortly. She finishes with hair product, moisturisers; small jobs to waste a few minutes. There's a tap at her door. She doesn't check to see who it is before she answers. It's Robbie with her breakfast tray and that cute dimpled smile, and hovering behind him is a marshal in a light grey suit, watching intently, making sure there's "Good morning," she greets and steps back to let him in. The marshal holds the door open with a wide palm while Robbie comes in and puts the tray of food (and coffee!) down on the desk. Gillian thanks him. And then she asks him if he's seen Cal this morning (he alternates who he delivers breakfast to first, so he's become a sort of messenger service for them, swapping casual verbal utterances on their behalf – usually just hello. Sometimes it's the only way Gillian hears of Cal in days. They've mostly been kept apart since the thing in Colorado blew up around them. And she's pretty sure the kid started alternating so that he could pass messages).
"He said to tell you 'today is the day'," Robbie says quietly (like it's a secret the marshal standing at the door isn't allowed to overhear. Even though he probably did). He finishes with an expression that says 'that's it' and 'do you get it?' so Gillian nods her thanks again, signs for the food (the marshals are footing the hotel bill and everything else) and Robbie leaves again. The marshal takes too long to let the door shut (Gillian doesn't like the way he looks at her sometimes; she has an urge to wrap her bathrobe up tighter) but eventually she is alone again and she sits to eat. Staring at the wall. Thinking about Cal.
So today is the day he's testifying (he's going first. He saw more at the meth house). It's been weeks in the making. All the testimony preparation and then the beginning of the trial. Everyday has a media frenzy outside the courthouse and Gillian knows their names and faces are everywhere. She thinks Willis wouldn't dare send more men to try and kill her now, not with everything so public, but the marshals differ in that opinion. And as she said before, she's quite happy to stay alive. Her heart is beating faster with just the knowledge that Cal is going to take the stand today. Because after he's done telling his story, she has to tell hers. And that makes her nervous (she's never loved being in a courtroom as much as Cal appears to).
Not surprisingly, Gillian's appetite takes a hit and she has to force the food in. She manages half, then gives up, her stomach tight and unrelenting. She gets dressed, finishes her hair and makeup, and is ready to go before the marshals knock on her door to give her a five minute warning. Even though she's ready, she's not allowed to wait in the hall (for a glimpse of Cal), because that's a safety issue. She's apparently so much safer in her room. She hears male voices outside her door but she doesn't see much when she peeks through the peephole (to see if she can get a glimpse of Cal). After the abductions in Colorado, she didn't get to see him much. When they were moved back to DC she sat next to him on the plane, but with everyone else around (including a contingent of marshals, those nosey bastards), they didn't exactly get to talk thoroughly. They did swap stories in low stilted conversations (Gillian found it hard to recount) but the flight was short and there wasn't much time for anything meaningful. Aside from that, she wants to talk to him to just talk to him; he's her best friend.
They don't see each other much these days, but there have still been a few moments. They don't get time alone, but sometimes they do get a little bit of time. She knows what he will say when he's on the stand. Despite preparing their testimonies separately with the state prosecutor, and essentially being separated since they got back to DC (though she doesn't know why. So they can't collude, maybe?), Cal has already managed to tell her exactly what he saw, exactly what he's going to say, exactly what happened to him (Willis's henchmen broke into the house and subdued Cal in much the same way they subdued her: bag over the head, arms tied behind his back. They were waiting for darkness to be able to move him from the house, seeing as they found his leg to be quite broken and him quite unhelpful. It was too much of a risk for the neighbours to see, even if they were only moving a body. While they waited and argued about it (there were a lot of phone calls back to the boss about the decision), the marshal's showed up. The agents already knew about what had happened to Gillian – they had sent agents to find her at that same moment – and were obviously alarmed at what was going on; particularly given what Cal had already confessed to them that he had broken protocol and told people their whereabouts. They raced to the house and found Cal face down on the living room carpet. One of the bad guys took a shot at one of the agents, so the agents returned fire and killed him).
There's a knock on Gillian's door and she opens it to find Walker there. He asks if she's ready to go, she is, so she steps out into the corridor and starts to head down to the elevators. She assumes the voices in the hallway a moment ago was Cal being taken to the courthouse, but she doesn't see him now. When they arrive at the court building they drive around to the back and enter through a secure doorway. She's taken through empty corridors to a small holding room for witnesses, where she has to wait for her turn to testify (probably not today, but she's had to be there for every day of the trial so far, to prove her existence). It's been a week and a half of horrifically long, boring days of sitting and waiting (and fretting), with little to do and no contact with anyone at all. This witness thing is a real burden and she will be glad when it's over (she hasn't even begun to think about the trials for Willis' henchmen, which will probably happen in a few months' time. Hopefully. So they can get it over with. She's ready for this to be over).
Gillian's not allowed a newspaper (or a phone) but she has a book, so she settles in to read for several hours. There are breaks mid-morning, lunch and in the afternoon, when someone brings her coffee and food, so it's been easier to break those chunks of time up into smaller units. She only has to get through two hours and then there's a break in the monotony. But she's startled after only half an hour by the door opening and she panics immediately, thinking something sinister is happening (because this isn't normal). Gillian's getting to her feet, preparing to yell (there's nowhere to run), when she sees Cal coming in. He is still on crutches, his leg still in a cast (though it is one he's allowed to walk on now that the callus has finally formed), his wrist in a Velcro brace. He still moves awkwardly; with his wrist bound it's continues to not be easy and straight forward to manoeuvre his broken leg, and he still refuses a wheelchair (even though that really would have made quite an impact with the jury). His face was bruised where he was knocked about, but they're so faint now that the yellow markings are only really visible up close (there was a fracture to his eye socket that has taken a long time to heal).
Cal looks up and gives her a grin, "hey love," and she moves forward to meet him. She hugs him awkwardly (awkwardly because he didn't get enough warning to get his arms up to hug her back; she wraps her arms around him and the crutches) and breathes in the smell of him, relishing in the tangibility of him. She steps back and studies him and finds he actually looks quite good (he's had a haircut recently), though it's odd to see him clean shaven. "You all right?" He asks her and she says 'yes' but has to step back further, duck her face away from him because she's suddenly overwhelmed (her face feels warm and she misses his lips). She covers by pulling out a chair for him to sit. "I've only got a moment. They're haranguing over some last minute legal something," he gripes.
Gillian turns to face him, her hands still on the back of the chair (a barrier between them now. But she needs it. He does things to her). Cal gives her a smile and she forces herself to return it (he can probably see right through that). "How have you been?" She asks him with sincerity (but also, it's a diversion).
"Good. Look Gill," Cal says and takes a half pace further (he doesn't step on his broken leg, but does rest it on the carpet when he's still). He doesn't sit. "There's something I really need to talk to you about."
Gillian feels her stomach flutter. She wasn't expecting this, but she all of a sudden has a pretty strong hunch she knows what he's going to say next (or something along the lines of). It's so obvious in the intensity of his gaze and the nervous twist of his mouth (plus, she knows him. Sometimes). Gillian's not sure if she indicates he should go on or not, but he does anyway. There's no preamble. He looks her right in the eye (all sincere). "What happens next?"
She knows exactly what he means. He means 'what happens next with us'. So she wasn't wrong. But it's still surprising because, actually, she didn't think he would ever ask her directly (sort of. Probably as directly as Cal gets with her), would never put voice to thoughts in his head (would never clue her in to what he was thinking or how he was feeling).
The door opens again and one of the court officers is there. "Time to go, Sir."
Cal doesn't face the door, doesn't acknowledge the man. His face falls a little and Gillian watches the way it crumples (and the hurt that shadows his eyes) as he realises his chance has fallen away and she hasn't answered him. (Yet). She wants to, but she finds herself unsure of what to say (where to even start?).
"Sir?" The officer prompts.
"Yep," Cal says and he swings his way out of the room again without looking at her. Gillian imagines the courtroom gasps as Cal goes in (they probably don't, but it would be pretty dramatic if they did). She can't hear them, can't hear a thing in the room she's in (the courthouse is usually hushed but the walls here are also thick), except some birds outside the window. She imagines him heading down the aisle, through the bar to the jury box, taking his time, soaking it all up; he does love to make a scene (but she wonders how easily it will come to him given what just transpired. He likes to act a certain way, but the key word is that it's an act).
'What happens next?'
He didn't mean with the case, with the trial, with any of this that is happening right now. He wants to know what she thinks about them. But she hasn't thought about it; has purposefully not been thinking about it. Because at first, it seemed more fantasy than real (them being thrown together, living together, then being together). Then it became her reality (she gave in and believed in this new world of theirs; she tried to get on with her new life), and she didn't want to think about it ending (not like Cal had. He had plans all along to go home, apparently. Apparently, he had also been emailing the Lightman Group to try and help work the case). And now she finds herself in a strange position because he clearly has thought about it (about them, about so much, apparently) and so she's on the back foot, but also, she's about to testify against a powerful man, and her life is by no means safe. Not just yet. She's not quite sure why she's even still alive.
Reece was standing outside the school having a cigarette when she left early that day, and he saw her being shoved into the van. He immediately took down the plate number and called the police. Certain people keep tabs on certain buzz names that may go through the precincts of Boulder, and because Gillian and Cal were in witness protection, their names were ones to be monitored. So as her name went out over the radio waves related to a kidnapping, the right people also contacted the marshals, and a task force was swiftly mobilised to find her. In the meantime, while Gillian was on her knees in the dust, certain of her imminent death (hyperventilating in the black bag and listening to the muffled sounds of the world around her, paranoid about hearing the click of a gun), her kidnappers were wasting time, waiting for Cal to go first so they could bring the body out there and bury it next to her. She's not sure why they felt the need to keep her alive until Cal's body showed up (because it might have been more convenient to just bury her first, seeing as she was already there), but it gave her the time needed to be rescued. Good police work found her in time (and she is so very grateful).
Gillian notices she's still standing in the same place where Cal left her a moment ago. She goes to the window and looks out over the city. It's a sunny day and in the distance she can see the Washington Monument; a familiar sight. When they flew in to Virginia a few weeks ago, she could see it from the window of the plane and it had sent a pang of homesickness to her stomach she hadn't been expecting. Yes, she missed her life, her home, more importantly, the people in it, but while she has been in witness protection, she hadn't given them too much thought. Definitely not after she and Cal had started dating (or whatever it was that they were doing. Sleeping together); he has been a nice distraction in some ways. A nightmare in others. Things were bad right at the end there, but it's Cal, and she has always (mostly) been hopeful that they would come right again. When it comes to him… she can't not.
Now her distraction is rescinding his designator; he's forcing her to think about things she hasn't wanted to think about, and is in the other room so she can't be, well, distracted, from thinking about it. So. Ok, so he has thought about it. But she doesn't know what he wants from her and that would have been helpful information. He just asked her what was happening next, with them, and she didn't have an answer. And his timing is lousy (it usually is). Gillian goes to sit at the table again. The chairs aren't that comfortable, even though they're fashionable. There is seriously nothing else in the room, not even a picture on the wall. So all Gillian can really even do right now is think about what she wants (she hasn't been allowed her phone either, though she's not sure why. Probably so she can't contact the outside world. Or is it so someone on the outside can't contact her? She can think of half a dozen people who would be thrilled to hear she's back in the district, and she can think of at least three people who could potentially tell her something to sway her testimony on the stand later. Ok, she gets why she doesn't have her phone.)
And thinking about it...
She knows what Cal wants. Now that she's making confessions, she's known for a while. He wants her. She might have known that for a long time actually, before any of this even happened. She doesn't know what 'wanting her' entails (and he hasn't even said the words, officially, but she's not too bad at reading between the lines). At one point, a few years ago, she might have just thought it was a physical thing, and if they hadn't been forced to actually live together, might it have continued to remain just that? Physical. And then for a while there, just before this witness protection thing started, she started to think they could have had something more than just a physical attraction. But, since then, they haven't really talked about a future, talked about feelings or what sleeping together has meant, and everything's just gotten so much more complicated since that meth lab exploded. So it has just been a physical thing. But she guesses maybe now Cal is asking her if she wants more than that (without telling her what he wants out of it. Which is damn annoying. And will also force her to give him a truthful answer, without trying to appease his).
But the question now is, does she want him?
PJ
Cal's testimony goes on for so long that he's still in there after lunch (he saw a lot more initially than Gillian did at the meth lab). He gets to the end of the day and thinks the defence's cross is just about done with (this is different from other times he's testified. In this instance, he's not an expert witness offering an opinion. He's telling it how he saw it; his version of the truth); he doubts he'll be back on the stand for long tomorrow, if at all. Which means Gillian won't get on the stand at all today and she'll have another fretful night to get through. He does feel bad about it for a moment; he doesn't really want her to feel more awful than she does. He knows she spends too much time thinking about all of it, worrying that she's going to forget her own memories; she's been a bit up and down in the last few months (and he hasn't been particularly supportive). Mostly what he's thinking about now though, is what they started to talk about before he left the waiting room (they had lunch separately and during the afternoon recess they were kept apart again. The prosecution wanted to talk to him during the break and that meant he didn't get to see Gillian. It does start to feel a bit like a conspiracy though. They're in separate hotel rooms and he gets the distinct impression they're not really supposed to talk to each other. Every time he even tries to leave his hotel room there's a man in a suit with an ear piece asking him where he's going and if it's really necessary).
What he was asking her for, before he left that morning, was a commitment. Of some sort. He doesn't know how it's going to work, hasn't thought that far ahead, isn't sure about the details at all, but knows he doesn't want it to end now that the case is going to trial and they have the option to return back to their normal lives. He doesn't want to lose her, doesn't want to let her go. He'd even give it all up and follow her back to their life in Colorado (or somewhere else), if that is what she really wants to do (it is an option the marshals gave them but Cal's not sure it would be feasible. They're known in Colorado now. It wouldn't be a case of easily slipping back in. It's not going to be easy to just slip into their lives here either. They could go somewhere new though, start all over again one more time). There's nothing like having his life threatened to really make him think about things... about what's important.
What surprises him, and what troubles him, is that Gillian has so obviously not been thinking about what she wanted out of their relationship (she flashed some serious surprise at him this morning). It is a relationship. They've been pretending and not pretending at it. So how come she hasn't thought about it? Maybe it's him. And that's worrying. He doesn't have a lot to offer her really, but himself. No fancy car or flash house; prestige or a name (his name isn't even his name anymore). He's half way between two lives and he's not sure which one is the better of them. They came to a sense of contentment in new lives in Colorado (before all the shit hit the fan. His bad), but DC and the Lightman Group has been their dream for so long as well. This is hard.
When the judge finally calls an end to the day of court, he's escorted back to the same room where he left Gillian that morning. An officer of the court (a different one) opens the door for him and he swings himself in, lending his weight to his good side to put less pressure on his still healing wrist. He's supposed to be walking a little on his broken leg, because the weight of his body will force the new bone to mineralise quicker (which means it will get hard and strong again), but its tender and he's wary (too much walking on it before it was ready to be load bearing). When he gets through the door, he sees Gillian sitting at the head of the table, and she looks worrisome. It feels like it's been an incredibly long day, but there are so many breaks in court, so many interruptions and recesses and asides, that it's actually still early in the afternoon and they've already adjourned because it's just so bloody exhausting (Cal's pretty sure the judge gets tired).
The officer of the court closes the door behind them, and Cal knows it's just a matter of time before someone on the prosecution team comes in to debrief him or to steal Gillian away, or a marshal comes to escort them back to the hotel (to different rooms. Cal's not sure where Gillian's is but he does know it is in the building somewhere). They've probably got seconds, if barely a minute, to talk, to say anything at all. Gillian gets up and goes to him (she's been shopping, or maybe she was allowed to go home and get clothes, because she's in one of those familiar form fitting dresses that just are so amazing on her figure. But he's not sure if he recognises the navy blue or not). Cal gathers his crutches aside, leaning them against the table, and resting his casted foot on the carpet to steady his balance (he's got just a lower leg cast now, which is much nicer). As soon as he's clear, Gillian steps into his arms. He hasn't had a chance to read her face before she's pressing her nose in against his neck, her arms tight around his shoulders, holding on. It's always nice to be held by her (particularly because it means she's not angry with him. After all the shitty things he did, she's not mad at him), but this time feels like more; soothing and grounding. Cal turns his cheek to press against hers and locks his hands in the small of her back. He wants to close his eyes and pretend they're somewhere else, and that none of this happened. But if it hadn't happened he's not sure they'd be standing there like this either (the hugging bit, not the testimony bit). They wouldn't, but she wouldn't be in his arms like this otherwise. He's made hints and feeble attempts, but nothing ever serious about having something more than just a friendship with her, until the explosion happened. And then they sort of just happened. He sort of helped that along. (He hasn't been particularly direct, forceful, determined; focused.) But he does like to think that even without the explosion, they would have happened eventually (probably happened better). But that's how he feels. He doesn't know how Gillian feels. She is actually quite good at keeping her feelings guarded.
"How'd it go?" Gillian speaks into his hair.
"All right," he responds neutrally, stirred by the sound of her voice. He opens his eyes and they pull back to look at each other.
"We should talk?"
"Yes," he breathes. He feels excited, but maybe he shouldn't be. He can't read her, doesn't know what she's going to say. She might turn him down flat. Thanks but no thanks. It was just sex for me. I want to remain friends. And that would gut him. But he really wants and hopes for her to say the opposite: I love you Cal. I want to be with you Cal. We can make this work Cal. I forgive you Cal.
Gillian looks down at where their bodies are pressed together, and then her eyes flicker up to his again and as she opens her mouth to start talking, there's a knock at the door. Cal's heart beats hard against his ribs and someone is coming into the room, Walker, their handler. He looks a little abashed, but mostly resigned (Cal gets the impression the agent is not happy to know he and Gillian have hooked up, of sorts. But he doesn't get why. And doesn't care either. It's none of their business. He doesn't think that maybe the other man is just a little embarrassed to interrupt was is obviously an intimate moment between them). He doesn't have to say anything, they know it means it's time to leave. Gillian's arms drop from Cal and so he has to let his own fall from her body. He takes up his crutches again and Gillian leaves the room first. They get taken back to the hotel in separate cars. Remember how Willis hadn't made any threats against them before? Well, he made them. They were those kind of openly, thinly veiled, obvious but also highly deniable kinds of threats that make Gillian feel anxious (she hasn't said, but Cal can tell) and Cal feel like he wants to punch someone in the face.
Cal doesn't see Gillian again that evening, and now that he's testified, his world is going to change again. He's not required to be at the courthouse after tomorrow (and so he doesn't know what he's going to be doing with his days), but it's not over yet. There's no guilty verdict and Willis is not behind bars.
PJ
Because Gillian has absolutely nothing to do with her time these days, aside from sit around and read (which she has done a lot of in the last few weeks) and watch movies, she also tends to go to bed early. Sometimes she watches movies before she goes to sleep, but two weeks in the same hotel room and she's watched everything on cable (one movie was so good she watched it three times). The hotel concierge, Monica, has been amazing. She found Gillian a DVD player and runs out every few days to get her new movies to watch (Gillian thinks she might have viewed the entire DVD store by now). She was halfway through one last night when she decided to put the light out, but doesn't feel in the mood to watch the rest while she eats her dinner alone. It's amazing though, she's supposed to be thinking about Cal and what to tell him (what she was going to say at the courthouse was basically to interrogate him about what he wanted, if he was serious etc), and how she feels about him, but she finds it easy to distract herself, even with so little to do. She takes a long hot shower and she puts her pyjamas on. Room service arrives and she eats at the desk, staring at the blank wall. She watches the city beneath her for a while, then does her teeth and gets into bed. She finishes her book and puts the light out (even though she's not sleepy) and then there's a tap at the door. At first, she's not sure she heard it, and she wonders if she has fallen asleep. But it comes again and so she checks the time (ten thirty), and gets out of bed. She's feeling wary, and so she checks the peephole before she fumbles with the lock, her heart pounding. "Cal!"
"Shh," he says and comes in, pressing in against her, like he can squeeze into the gap she barely left between herself and the doorframe. He's not on crutches and Gillian moves out of the way (even though he's already basically felt her up and she kind of liked it), backing up against the wall by the door, wondering what's going on (also, she's glad to see him again. They don't get to spend any regular time together. The thing at the courthouse threw her off; she misses him).
"What are you doing here?" Gillian whispers.
Cal pushes the door closed carefully. "I wanted to see you."
Gillian's heart flutters.
"We didn't get to finish talking," Cal adds.
Gillian's heart slows abruptly. Aw crap, she doesn't know what to tell him (because she can't make up her damn mind. She wants him and yet she doesn't want the drama that comes with him. And she can't decide if she can overlook that). Cal steps towards her in the darkness and she can't see his face clearly, just a basic outline (it feels like he's looking at her intensely). "How? Don't? How'd you sneak out?" She puts her hands on his shoulders (though she's not sure if that's to steady him or herself; or maybe to keep a reasonable distance), feels the bones of his shoulders beneath her palms; solid and real, and her heart rate picks up again.
"Babysitter fell asleep," Cal says, his voice low and intimate and he comes a little closer, shuffling, his hands ghosting at her hips.
"How'd you find me?" Gillian almost whispers, Cal's so close she can feel his body warmth, and even though she's forming words, she's barely even listening to herself.
"Power of deduction," Cal murmurs but Gillian is already sliding her hands into his hair, pulling him closer. She presses her mouth to his and his good hand slides firmly against her waist, as he helps to fit his mouth against hers. At first, it's just a kiss, but then it becomes hot and heavy (Gillian finds herself teasing at his lips with her tongue; then can't quite believe she's done it) and Cal's hands find their way under her pyjama shirt, smoothing against her skin to create a tense friction that has her heart throbbing. She presses her hips against him in a rhythm of their own and she alternates between caressing his ears and rubbing her palms against the day old stubble on his jaw. He's taking his cues from her, but she's really turned on and she's not stopping this (and see? This is why it's so hard to make a decision about whether she wants him or not. Because chemistry like this, like she's never experienced with anyone else, is a big fat tick in the plus column. While all the other shit he does weighs down the minuses and it's difficult to determine which side is winning out).
Gillian's mind races ahead; she imagines them in bed together, even though they're still pressed up against the wall. She shifts her hands to tug at Cal's hips, feels the coarseness of his suit trousers beneath her fingers. She shifts her hands to the front, fumbles with the catch. He can take a hint rather well, because he moves to undo the buttons of her pyjama top and they're both standing there, breathing heavily, undressing each other. And then there's a bang at the door and Gillian startles hard, an inadvertent noise in her throat.
"Ma'am!" A male voice calls through the wood and Cal is cussing under his breath.
"Busted."
Gillian hears the key card in the door's slot and the handle is dropping and she grabs at the material around her torso to cover her exposed chest. Cal steps back from her, does his trousers up, so when the door actually opens they're both just standing there, blinking against the light in their eyes. On the threshold is an agent in a dark suit, a radio in his hand, the door handle still in the other, so he's leaning in on them. Gillian's not sure what kind of conclusion he can form (she thinks she and Cal do a pretty good job of nonchalant. And it feels so humiliating to be busted by the marshals. Also, can they not get a freaking minute of space?), but he seems surprised to see them nonetheless. He puts the radio to his mouth, "Found him. He's here with me now."
Cal rolls his eyes. "Can I just have a minute?" He tries pushing the door closed.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
"In a minute," Cal repeats, pushing on the door. He doesn't get it all the way shut, like the agent thinks Cal might do a runner, and can't quite let the barrier come between them. "Feel like a bloody criminal."
"Yeah," Gillian agrees. It does feel like that. Completely intrusive and controlling and restrictive. And they're supposed to be the good guys.
Cal looks over at her, he seems unsure and not quite able to make her eye, and Gillian knows he's wanting answers (he wants her to go first). But she doesn't know what to say and so she doesn't say anything and after a moment Cal seems resigned. "All right," he says. "Take care then." (An odd parting shot, but not snide.) And he reaches for the door and pulls it open. Gillian doesn't know it then, but she isn't alone in a room with him again for over a month (and if she did know, she might have given him something to hold on to). She stands still as Cal leaves the room (doesn't know what to say). The marshal sticks his head back in to ask if everything is ok, and she says it is (she can't wait for this testimony thing to be over. She's seriously had enough. Even though she's also scared about what happens after. How safe will her life be?) She's already walking back to bed before the door closes and the room goes dark. She's still tightly gripping her pyjama top until she gets back into bed, then doesn't bother doing it up again.
She's not sure where to start with the thinking, but she does know what she wants to say to Cal now (and she might be able to get Robbie to tell Cal something hopeful tomorrow morning after all, so long as he delivers her breakfast before he delivers Cal's). She thinks she can get there, if she's given some time, and she can see how things go. It's not easy with Cal, but she thinks that in her heart she maybe loves him in some way. She just needs time to really know if that's true or not, and if that's enough. And in the meantime, she doesn't want to hurt him; doesn't want to lead him on.
That's what she would tell him.
If that makes any sense at all?