Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters in this story.

I never intended to write this chapter, but I got the impression from your reviews that some of you wanted to see it. I'm a little unsure of it, but we'll see what you think.

Cal strode quickly into his office, Loker following timidly behind. "Shut the door," the older man instructed, walking over to sit down on the chair behind his desk.

Loker's stomach was churning. He knew he was in deep this time. He wanted to speak and try to dig himself out of this enormous amount of trouble he was in, but he didn't think there was a single thing that would stop Lightman strangling him with his bare hands right now. He deserved it, of course. He took a few steps into the room, each of them hesitant. Maybe he could run for the door now and still get away.

"Sit," Cal instructed quietly, waiting for Eli to obey. He rocked back and forth in his chair a little, trying to calm himself before he spoke. He needed to collect his thoughts and let some of the rage he felt dissipate. He honestly couldn't believe Loker had said that after everything Gill had done for him. After about five minutes of incredibly intense silence, he spoke. "So... Proud of yourself, are you?" he asked, swivelling in his chair to face Loker, one of his feet resting on the opposite knee so his leg was at right angles and horizontal to the ground. He brought his hands together, the tips of his thumbs and forefingers touching each other and forming an upside down V.

"I don't know what to say," Loker replied honestly.

"That's a bloody change. You had plenty to say a few minutes ago." Cal watched as the shame on Loker's face intensified, fighting for dominance with the fear he was feeling. "I didn't have the pleasure of seeing your face while you degraded my wife," Cal informed him. "So I'm not sure if you really think of her like that, or if you've got your head up your ass and you think it was funny. Showing off in front of your little friends to be the big man."

Cal sat up a little straighter and tilted his head to the side, studying Eli like he was under a microscope. "Do you know who pushed for me to hire you?" he asked.

"Dr. Foster?" Eli suggested softly. Like he didn't feel bad enough as it was.

"And who convinced me not to fire your stupid ass after you ran to the IRS and blew the deal she'd made?"

"Doct..." he stopped and cleared his throat, finding his voice was croaky. "Dr. Foster," Eli tried again. He wondered if he could feel any worse.

"And when your grandmother died, who booked- and paid for out of her own pocket- tickets home so you could go to the funeral?"

"Dr. Foster," Loker replied, ashamed.

"And who makes sure your favourite cake's in the kitchen on your birthday every year? And stays back half the night and on weekends to help when you get stuck with your research?"

Loker wanted to die. He looked down.

"I'm speaking to you!" Cal all-but yelled at him, bringing his hands down on the desk with a loud bang.

Loker jumped. "Doc.. doctor Foster," he told Cal.

"That's right," Cal told him, standing up and starting to pace behind the desk he'd hit just moments earlier. "She does absolutely everything she can for you, and how do you repay her?" he asked. "You degrade her, and talk about her like she's a common whore." The word left a bad taste in Cal's mouth. It certainly wasn't one he'd use to describe Gillian.

Loker shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unable to look at Cal.

The older man walked over and bent over, a hand resting on either arm rest of Loker's chair so he was leaning forward, right into his personal space, their faces just inches apart. He watched as Loker swallowed nervously. "You disgust me," he told him, his voice practically dripping with loathing. "You have no idea what loyalty and respect are, do you?" Loker looks like he's about to speak, and Cal cuts him off. "No, of course you don't. Now..." he leans in just a little closer. He's smaller than Loker, there's no denying that, but his presence is intimidating, and the power he holds makes him seem like he's twice his co worker's size. "You give me one good reason why I shouldn't knock your block off right now."

Loker wasn't overly familiar with the phrase, but he was pretty sure Lightman was about to beat the crap out of him. He set his jaw and tried not to flinch.

Cal wouldn't punch Loker- if nothing else he'd get arrested for it and then Gill would have to bail him out. He straightened up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, just to be safe. "You're a bloody disgrace. I don't even know what to do with you," Cal admitted. He sat down again and started to swivel in his chair, picking up one of his Papua New Guinean artefacts and shifting it from hand to hand while he thoughts. "You've really shown your true colours today. I know exactly what you think of people you should respect, and I know who you're loyal to. Nothing and no one." He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times. "I'd fire you effective immediately, but until Gill's finished working on the budgets we're short-handed, and getting rid of you now would punish everyone else, too...." Cal trailed off, trying to think a plan through. "Get your stuff together and get out of here. I don't want to see your selfish, disrespectful ass again until Monday morning. You'll stay until Dr. Foster's finished working on budgets, then you're out. Are we clear?"

Loker swallowed and nodded silently. He knew he deserved it. "Right," he agreed quietly, standing slowly to leave.

"I'm not done with you yet," Cal stopped him. "You will not tell a single person, and you sure as hell won't go running to Foster with this. She's got enough on her plate without trying to save the likes of you after you stabbed her in the back. When Torres asks you'll tell her I sent you home for the rest of the week and you'll be back on Monday morning. Nothing more, nothing less." Loker nodded and Cal turned his chair to face his computer. "You know where the door is," he told the younger man. "Use it."

Loker stood for a second, watching Cal as he went back to work, then trudged to the office door, letting himself out. He didn't think he'd ever regretted giving voice to words so much.