A/N: Welcome to Chapter Four of "A Cal Lightman Thanksgiving" brought to you by yours so very truly. Here, we have a brief little interlude in our fic-an interaction between Cal and Gillian-the most important sort of interaction if you ask me! Thank you to each and every one of you for your LOVELY reviews! :D
Okay, enjoy!
Cal sat in his office staring intently at the computer screen in front of him. To an outsider, it would look as though he was doing some sort of work. In fact, the opposite was actually true. He was, actually, doing nothing except thinking. Gillian had agreed to spend Thanksgiving with him and he was absolutely elated about that fact. Whenever he thought of it, he began to smile and he felt a bit silly about getting excited for something so small.
However, his feelings were deeper than that really. Yes, he was excited that he'd finally get to spend the actual day of Thanksgiving with Gillian—it had been a hope of his for quite some time. But, his stomach bunched up in a giant knot when he recalled who else he was going to be spending Thanksgiving with—Zoe. And, of course, her fiancé. Zoe was a handful normally, but given her unusual hostility toward Gillian and the pure stress of the day itself, Cal had a bad feeling about the beast Zoe would morph into on Thursday.
So, staring at his computer screen, he felt an odd sense of calmness and panic and he was thankful for the distraction that was the beautiful Gillian Foster as she waltzed into his office.
She was wearing a navy blue dress and Cal marveled at how the color differed on her when compared to his ex-wife. On Zoe it made her look tough and serious. On Gillian, the color made her look soft and inviting. Shifting his eyes from the computer screen, he smiled at her as a greeting.
She smiled in return, and Cal couldn't help the feelings that swelled within him at the sight.
"You always catch me when I'm in the middle of working my hardest." He said, leaning back in his chair.
Catching his lie, she rolled her eyes playfully and sat down in the chair across from his desk, "I can see that," She said, indicating the blank computer screen that was barely visible from her position in the chair.
Cal grinned at her and laughed slightly. He was constantly amazed at the ways in which their banter allowed him to feel so light and carefree. It was a combination he wasn't used to feeling except in her presence.
"So, what's up?" He asked. Noticing the way her gaze flickered and worry creased her brow, Cal felt a sense of panic, "You've not come to cancel, have you?" He questioned, allowing the worry to slip into his voice.
At his face, Gillian laughed. "No, Cal. I'm not going to cancel."
Cal wiped his brow in an exaggerated display of relief. In truth, however, it actually mirrored the relief he felt. Now that Gillian was in his life in the best possible way, he did not want to spend a family holiday without her. "Well, what is it, then?"
Gillian folded her hands in her lap and considered Cal, her discomfort rather evident. She was still not entirely keen on facing the one-woman firing squad that was Zoe Landau on Thursday—particularly since Thanksgiving had always been one of her favorite holidays. "I was wondering," She said, "What I should bring on Thursday?"
Cal pulled his brow together in genuine confusion, his mind running through the possibilities. Finally, he smiled, "Just your gorgeous body will be enough, darling." He said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Gillian couldn't contain the rush of heat that flooded her body, and she felt herself begin to blush at Cal's words and at his leer. She used to despise the way her body betrayed her in that fashion, but Cal seemed to enjoy seeing the reaction he caused in her—he seemed to relish the color that spread to her cheeks, and so she had begun to hate it less.
Still, she breathed out, "Cal…" attempting to affect a warning tone—but it was too breathy given the fact that he was still gazing at her hungrily.
He shrugged, and then said, "What?" feigning complete innocence, "I'm a man in search of the truth," He said, as though it made perfect sense. To an outsider, the comment would have seemed non sequitur, but when Gillian heard it, her heart rate increased slightly and she felt emotion welling in her eyes—Cal had seen the minute flash of doubt at the word 'gorgeous,' and he was letting her know with words—and with his fiery gaze—how true he felt those words were.
She smiled at him, giving him her thanks, and she would have paused longer were it not for an impending meeting, "Seriously, Cal, what should I bring?" She asked again, the smile still playing on her face—the color slowly fading.
Cal smiled gently at her—her modesty was incredible and never ceased to amaze him. "Seriously, Gillian," He said, "Don't worry about it—Zoe'll take care of everything." He finished with a shrug.
Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they had been a mistake. Gillian fixed him with a hard stare, "Thanks, Cal," She emphasized his name and he laughed slightly, amazed at his innate ability to say the absolute wrong thing, "But I am absolutely not going to show up to Thanksgiving dinner at your ex-wife's house bringing nothing to the table."
Cal smiled, "You never bring nothing to the table, darling," He said, and then cleared his throat, "But, point taken."
She crossed her legs in the chair and tilted her head to the side, "So, I'll ask again—for the third time—what should I bring?"
Cal leaned even farther back in his chair and chewed on his lip slightly, deep in thought. He was rather out of practice at contributing to things in this way and he felt quite at a loss. Fixing her with a particularly cheesy grin he said, "Whatever you want?" His voice went up on the end of the phrase, indicating a question and his eyebrows shot up in unison and Gillian thought briefly how cute he looked as he thrust his palms upward.
Gillian considered his answer and Cal watched as a faraway look made its way into her eyes and a small almost reverent smile ghosted across her lips. Her tongue darted out briefly to moisten her lips and Cal watched as her facial muscles released and contracted. He felt a pang of desire watching her tongue, and then he read her face.
Suddenly, he couldn't contain the sharp burst of laughter that bubbled up and it startled Gillian out of her reverie and she jumped slightly at the sound. Not taking his eyes off of her face, Cal shook with laughter and it just kept coming until he was laughing so hard he was nearly crying.
Gillian nearly took offense, but the sight of Cal laughing so hard was rather unfamiliar to her and so she began to chuckle slightly in confusion before she finally spoke, "What?" She asked, unable to keep the smile that seeing his reaction caused.
Cal shook his head, still laughing, and Gillian repeated herself, "What?"
Taking a few steadying breaths, Cal looked her in the eyes, amusement evident in the hazel them—trying to control the smile and be serious for a minute he said, "You want to bring dessert, don't you?"
Gillian let out a sound of indignation, and she was ready to deny that her mind had just wandered to the sweet masterpieces she could create when given free reign but the look on Cal's face stopped her. He was looking at her intensely with an emotion that both thrilled and frightened her so that she had to look away. She laughed, then, her gaze on her hands in her lap, and said quietly, "Yes."
Cal's gaze still remained on her and he chuckled again, "I knew it." He said, finally.
Gillian's eyes finally met his again and he thought about how adorable she looked as hopefulness made its way into her blue.
"Dessert will be perfect, darling." He said finally, and his heart tugged at the genuine smile she gave him.
"Excellent!" She said, and she began to rise to exit but she reconsidered and sat down again, worry creasing her brow.
Cal furrowed his brow and looked at her, "What is it, love?" He asked, his voice gentle as he leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the desk in front of him.
Gillian swallowed as she felt nervousness assault her stomach—"Nothing…" She said.
"Nice try." Cal said, tilting his head to the left. "What is it?" He asked again.
Gillian looked at him then and Cal saw the fear in her eyes and her voice was quiet when she spoke, "Do you have Emily on Wednesday?" She queried.
Suddenly, Cal understood why she was asking—his smile was nothing short of tender to match the comforting tone in his voice when he said, "Yes, I do. And I'm sure she'd love to." Cal assured, nodding his head. "But she'll be here later—you can ask her yourself if you want."
Gillian nodded, then, and rose from her chair. As she exited his office, she turned to look back at him, "Thanks, Cal." She offered, hoping he would understand her meaning thoroughly.
It was clear to her that he absolutely did when he pulled his lips into a smile and whispered "Any time, love."
TBC
it is at this point in the fic-writing process that I begin to tire! But I'll do my best to keep plugging away!