Cal held her a little tighter, trying not to think about how this might never happen again. Trying not to think about how he should have pushed the envelope and tried to move them beyond friendship. His mind was still murky but all this sifted through the fog in an emotional sucker punch that made him want to roar in anger with the unfairness of it all.

A frown took over his features before his eyes opened and widened. "Wha arrre youu doin'?"

Gillian's nimble fingers had taken advantage of his proximity, weeding their way into his pocket and pulling out the knife. "You'd be useless with this and they wouldn't expect it from me. Bainbridge has always targeted fragile women." She sat up, and placed the weapon behind her on the bed.

He stared at her, impressed by the sudden show of strength that he'd known was lurking beneath the surface but the only thing he could think to say was: "Youu shoulddd attleasst buyy mee dinnnerr beforrre you feeell mee upp."

Incredulous, a half-laugh erupted from her throat as a tiny smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "You're absolutely incorrigible." The words were soft, almost as if she were acknowledging it for the first time.

"Youu knew thaatt before we even becammme partnerrss."

"Suspected it."

"Whattevverr."

Despite the situation, Gillian felt her face burn. He always knew how to push her buttons. As she stared down at him, a familiar longing tugged at her insides. This was all so unfair. Everything wasn't meant to end here. And it won't. It can't.

His hand was gently stroking her arm and she blinked at the realization and followed its progress. It seemed to trail a tingling warmth behind it and she had to consciously fight off a shiver. Her eyes moved from the hand back to his face and all she saw was one thing. One thing he didn't have the capability to hide right now. Complete adoration.

Fascinated, she touched his face lightly, running down before holding his cheek in her palm. He closed his eyes, pushing gently into the softness of her hand.

"Gillian…?"

"No."

Cal stopped, bemused. "Howw do youu know wha I'mm goin' to say?"

"If you're going to tell me to desert you again or if you're starting to say goodbye, you can just save it."

"Actualllyy, I wasnn't gonna say that darlinnn'. I've givennn up. You'rre too stubbornnn to come to yourrr sensesss."

"Excuse me?" She flicked an eyebrow at him and he couldn't help but smile. Even exhausted and ragged around the edges, she was so lovely.

"I jussst wasss gonna say…" He could feel himself backpedaling as he pulled his punch. Damn him. Why couldn't he just say it? Probably because she wouldn't accept it as truth right now. Maybe. "I…um…I cann't telll you how much youu mean to mee." Lightman, you're such a coward. It was probable that Bainbridge would arrive any moment and happily snuff them out and here he was afraid to tell her he loved her. Inwardly he smacked himself aside the head, while outwardly he gave her a sincere smile.

"You can stop right there because that sounds a little like a goodbye."

"Doess nottt."

"Does too."

Frustrated, Cal decided against words. The hand that had been lightly rubbing her arm curled around it and suddenly pulled her closer to him.

(BREAK)

Bainbridge descended the stairs as the same ominous feeling bloomed within him.

Berkely hadn't answered his phone. He always answered his phone. If the man were in the bathroom taking a leak he'd answer the phone with one hand while holding his dick with the other. He was that anal. On an off shot, he'd also tried to call Gregory but he hadn't picked up either. He was less anal, so Bainbridge didn't question that quite as much although it looked bad, considering.

Theoretically, Taylor was babysitting Finn but alas, he hadn't answered his damned phone either. So now he just had to make sure the boy was still in the house. If he was, well, that would imply that Finnley Senior needed to have a little bit more faith. Of course faith was something he never had in his son. Over two decades of established behavior gave him good reason.

The boy hadn't been in his room, so unless he was outside, he'd probably be in the den at the back of the house. He always liked the TV…and the bar.

Despite his age, the old man moved quickly, fueled more by fear than anything else. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up. His bad knee and compromised liver could only take so much.

As soon as he stepped through the doorway, his face crumpled into itself. No, no, no. He couldn't have. But as he stared at his chauffer lying on the Oriental rug snoring wetly he knew that his worst fears were being realized.

It was time to come to a decision, but he wasn't sure if he was strong enough.

(BREAK)

He thought about answering the phone, he really did, but Greg was convinced that it was a damned if he did, damned if he didn't kind of situation. It was best if he didn't talk to him.

Besides, he couldn't worry about the old man right now. He'd come to a decision and was currently so scared that he couldn't even pee straight. Good thing he didn't have a girlfriend or wife to bitch about it.

Breathing deeply, he packed the duffel with shaking hands.

Hopefully, he wouldn't be too late.

(BREAK)

"Hi Berk. How are things" Finn was all smooth smiles when the big man pulled the door open for him.

"To be honest, I've been better."

"Yeah, I can get behind that. But I have to tell you…" He moved inside, glancing around and dumped his knapsack on the table. "All that money buys lots of wonderful things, including a hell of a lot of freedom."

Nodding, Berkley gave a noncommittal grunt.

"How are our guests?" The smile broadened, becoming wolfish.

"Lightman hasn't had a dose since this morning but it was a hefty one. He should still be a little groggy." It was said with clinical detachment. Berk wanted to pull himself as far away as he possibly could. "The woman hasn't given us any problems." Other than the occasional tongue-lashing. He kept that to himself. It would be in Dr. Foster's best interest.

"Well gosh, that's just perfect then. Want Dr. Lightman to be awake for all the fun." Finn winked dramatically and Berk just felt sick.

"I already told you I wasn't going to hang around."

"Yeah, yeah. I understand. It's kind of funny that a man who's dissected corpses, not to mention, cut open the living is squeamish." He opened his knapsack and peeked inside at his tools. "Before you take off, I do want you to help me secure that bastard. Drugged or not, I would count on him being a pain in the ass."

Berk only grimly nodded again.

"After all, he needs to have a front row seat before he becomes part of the action." Finn giggled. It was surprisingly high, like a prepubescent boy and the other man cringed ever so slightly. "Well, shall we get the party started?"

Sorry for the short chapter but I guess we're heading into the home stretch. How's it going for y'all?