A/N: Whatevs. Here's chapter 4.

Gillian felt her stomach tighten in nerves as she watched the clock on Wednesday afternoon. Cal had given everyone—including her—the day off because it was so close to the holiday. She had spent the morning preparing the things she and Emily would be baking that afternoon.

Gillian had asked Emily on Monday if she'd like to help her bake desserts for Thanksgiving dinner and Emily had excitedly accepted. The teenager's enthusiasm had been adorable and had thrilled Gillian to no end.

So, as Gillian sat watching the clock, running her palms up and down on her jeans, she tried to fathom why she was so nervous. It was Cal's daughter—it was Emily—Gillian loved Emily—and perhaps that was the root of the problem. Gillian didn't have time to consider it very closely because mid-reverie a knock came at the door.

Gillian opened the door with a smile to find Cal and Emily on her doorstep. Emily was grinning clad in a pink pea coat and Cal was standing next to her smiling as well.

"Hello, darling," he said as he stepped into Gillian's house—as he passed her by, he leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. She returned the kiss and waited for Emily to enter before closing the door.

"Hi, Gill!" Emily said, unraveling the pale blue scarf she had around her neck and laying it on the sofa. She began unbuttoning her coat.

"Hi, Em." Gillian returned with a warm smile.

Emily slid her jacket off and laid it on the arm of the couch next to her scarf, "I'm so excited!" She said, turning to face Gillian.

"I am, too." Gillian returned, and then she looked at Cal, "Will you be staying to help us out?" She asked him.

Cal looked between Gillian and his daughter, "Well, I wasn't aware I was invited." He said, affecting a hurt tone.

"You weren't!" Emily said before dissolving into laughter.

Cal looked at her, "Hey!" He said, pointing a finger, "That's not very nice." Emily shrugged and simply laughed some more.

"You're welcome to stay," Gillian said with a light laugh, enjoying the light heartedness of the exchange between father and daughter.

"Nah, can't." Cal said, grinning at Gillian, "I've got to go shopping!" He explained.

"Shopping?" Gillian questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Cal nodded, "Yeah, you know, I've got to pick up some things for Thanksgiving dinner." He said, shrugging slightly.

Gillian's lips curved into a smile, "Cal, Thanksgiving is tomorrow." She emphasized the word, commenting on his procrastination.

Emily took a step forward and rolled her eyes, "Yeah, Dad always waits until the last minute." She said.

"Huh." Gillian said, making a face, "Imagine that."

"Oh, now don't you start, too." He said, pointing a finger at Gillian. He extended his finger until it brushed her bottom lip and Gillian nearly shuddered at the contact and the gentleness in his eyes. "Well, I'll be off, then." He said, not taking his eyes off Gillian's. Removing his finger, he leant forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips, and then smiled at her.

Gillian returned the smile, and felt a warmth beginning in her stomach.

"Goodbye, darling," he said, his face still close to hers. Finally, he turned his gaze to Emily who was watching the exchange with a wide smile, "Bye, Em." He said, and then he turned the handle of the door and opened it slightly, "Be good." He offered, looking at his daughter. Emily rolled her eyes, and Cal let his gaze flicker between Gillian and Emily, "Both of you." He clarified a grin making its way onto his face.

Gillian chuckled, "There's icing and lots of sugar," she said, "No promises."

Cal laughed, then, and walked down the pathway to his car, "See you in a few hours, then." He called with a wave and Gillian shut the door and clicked the lock into place.

Turning around to face Emily, she saw the teenager was donning a very adorable, very wide smile—"Ready?" Gillian asked, and Emily enthusiastically nodded as they made their way into Gillian's kitchen.

When Emily saw the expanse of items sitting on Gillian's kitchen counter, she nearly shrieked, "Oh my god! Look at all this stuff!" She said, "This is going to be so much fun!" She stated.

Gillian smiled and laughed lightly at Emily's obvious excitement. Inside, she felt her nerves begin to soothe themselves. In Gillian's kitchen was an array of food items—homemade cookie dough, cake batter and, of course, plenty of pumpkin.

"Where do we start?" Emily asked.

Gillian walked over to a particular area of the kitchen—"I was thinking we'd start with pumpkin cheesecake. Sound good?"

Emily nodded and followed Gillian over to the sink where they both washed their hands and prepared to begin baking.

Conversation flowed easily between them as Gillian showed Emily how to make various desserts and as Emily told Gillian about some drama at school and about the new boy she thought she liked and whom she thought might kind of like her. Gillian reveled in the ease of the chatter and the warmth that situated itself inside her heart when she gave Emily advice about this new boy. She could tell that Emily trusted her and valued her opinion—on everything, really. On boys, on dessert, and the knowledge made her quite happy.

Emily and Gillian were scooping cookie dough onto a cookie sheet.

"There's going to be so much dessert!" Emily squealed, "We usually only have, like, one pumpkin pie." She said, wrinkling her nose.

"You can never have too much dessert," Gillian said, but her voice wavered slightly and an awkward expression came across her face. Emily couldn't read precisely what it was, but she knew something about it was off.

"What's wrong?" She asked, suddenly.

Gillian smiled, "Nothing." She lied.

Emily laughed as she scooped another spoonful of dough onto the sheet, "Yeah, right. I saw your face—what's wrong?" She questioned again.

Gillian laughed this time, shaking her head slightly, "You are your father's daughter, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question and Emily shrugged lightly. Sighing, Gillian dug her spoon into the mixing bowl, "I'm just nervous about Thursday is all."

Emily looked at her, "Why?"

Gillian fixed her with a look, "Emily, you know why." She said, taking in Emily's wide-eyed innocence.

Emily giggled, "Yeah, I guess." She shrugged again, sliding another spoonful onto the tray, "But you really don't have to be. It'll be okay."

Gillian laughed at this, "I sure hope you're right." She finished, and she picked up the tray and moved it to the oven, but her thoughts turned to Zoe and she had to admit that she wasn't entirely confident that Emily was, in fact, correct.

Walking over to the sink to wash the dough off of her hands Emily continued speaking, "I know you're worried about my Mom, and I know she can be a bit…" Emily trailed off as she turned the sink on, looking for the appropriate word. Unable to find it, she said, "whatever, but" She said pointedly as she stuck her hands under the faucet and began to rub them together, "Dad loves you." She said.

Gillian's breath caught in her throat when Emily's words finally hit her ears—she fumbled the oven door closed, having set the cookies on the rack. At Gillian's silence, Emily turned around to look at her. Turning the faucet off, Emily laughed—

"He does, Gillian." She said, reaching for a handtowel.

Gillian finally found her voice, "I don't—I'm not sure—that's…" Gillian faltered and Emily turned around to face her and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. You know he so does." She said.

Gillian turned around and busied herself with the kitchen timer, refusing to answer Emily and deciding to change the subject, "By the way," She said, punching the buttons on the timer, "We never really talked about…" She trailed off and turned around to face Emily.

Emily was leaned against the counter looking at her expectantly, "Talked about what?" She prompted.

Gillian smiled, feeling the nerves return to her stomach, "About how you feel about…it." She finished, waving her hand in front of her, "You know—about your dad and me." She said, clarifying.

Emily laughed, "I thought you already knew!" She said. At Gillian's look, Emily continued, "I've always said all I've ever really wanted was my dad to be happy." She said, looking at Gillian who smiled, "But, truthfully," She said, and Emily's eyes began to mist slightly with unexpected emotion, "All I really wanted was him to be happy—" She paused and tilted her head to the side, looking at Gillian, "With you." She finished.

The distinction and the emotion with which Emily relayed this bit of truth was not lost on Gillian and she felt it begin to well in her eyes. Squeezing them shut tightly, she tried to blink back the tears—"Emily," She said, her voice wrought with emotion.

"It's true." Emily said, taking a step toward Gillian, "You're the best person in the world for him and I'm sorry I never said before how happy I am that you guys finally figured something out." Smiling, Emily stepped closer to Gillian and reached her hands out—embracing one another into a hug that made Gillian's heart swell with unabashed happiness.

When they finally pulled away from one another, they both had tears in their eyes and they laughed a little bit—

Gillian wiped her eyes a little bit and then asked, "Well, what's next?"

Emily's eyes shone as she answered, "Cupcakes!" in the same excited vein in which she began the afternoon.

After four hours of baking, Gillian's house smelled delicious and her kitchen was laden with treats of all different varieties. Gillian and Emily sat on the couch in Gillian's living room making idle conversation about a book that they both happened to have read when there was a knock at the door.

"That'll be your dad." Gillian explained as she got off the couch to open the door.

Gillian swung the door open to see Cal dressed in a black coat holding two plastic bags in his hands. "Hello, love." He said as he entered her house for the second time that day.

"Hi, dad!" Emily said from her position on the couch.

"Bloody hell, the smell of this place alone could give a cavity!" He said, setting the bags on the coffee table and beginning to unbutton his coat, "Did you girls have fun?" He asked as he laid his coat over the arm of Gillian's couch.

Emily nodded enthusiastically, "Yes!" She said, and Cal smiled as he went over and kissed her on the forehead, "Gillian's an incredible baker!" She said.

"Gillian?" He said, "Incredible at something she does? Shocking!" He said, his eyes focusing on Gillian. She was sitting on the couch and beginning to eye the plastic bags he'd brought, but she smiled and laughed at his comment nonetheless. "Chinese." He said, answering her silent question. "I brought Chinese for dinner—hope you ladies didn't fill up entirely on sweets!"

Gillian laughed, "No," She said, "We didn't. And actually, now that I think about it, I'm quite hungry." She finished.

Cal grinned.

"Me, too!" Emily said, reaching for the bags on the table.

They ate in quiet conversation and Cal couldn't help but feel satisfied in more ways than just the one as he watched his daughter and Gillian. He felt something pulling at his stomach every time Gillian spoke—every time he caught her eye he felt his heart tugging slightly and he couldn't help but smile. The warmth radiated throughout his body until he finally identified the feeling—happiness, pure happiness.

When they had finished and it had grown late, Cal said, "Well, Em, I suppose we should go, yeah?"

With a yawn, she nodded and began to rise from the couch. She shrugged her jacket on and Cal followed suit. Gillian rose and went near the door to see them out. Cal and Emily made their way to the door, and paused.

"Do me a favor, Em?" He asked, and she nodded then looked at him expectantly. Taking his keys out of his pocket, he handed them to her, "Warm up the car, love?" He said, and grinned at her.

Emily nodded enthusiastically, a silly grin plastered on her face as she understood his meaning. She took the keys and headed out the door, "Bye, Gill!" She said.

When Emily had made it down the walkway and into the car, Cal smirked at Gillian, "Now that she's gone," He said, his voice deep. Without warning, his hand snaked out and grasped the back of Gillian's head, drawing her in for a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she moaned involuntarily against him, and slid her hands up his spine—the noise she made and the feel of her warmth against his body, even through his coat, made him grin and kiss her harder. Finally, they broke away, "I'll come by around noon tomorrow?" He said, his eyes dark, his pupils dilated with desire, matching Gillian's.

Gillian nodded, momentarily speechless.

"We'll spend a little time together before we face the firing squad." He said, laughing lightly. "Bye, darling." He kissed her on the cheek and walked down the walkway to be greeted by a grinning Emily in his passenger's seat.

Gillian closed the door behind him and leaned her back against it. Her heart fluttered as she brought her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the butterflies that had settled there.

TBC

Talk- or don't.

BAI.