So, the snow may have almost disappeared from where I live, but in Cal and Gillian's world there's still lots of it around :-] Here's the next chapter… look out for my little inside joke… I just couldn't resist ;-)
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Lie to Me, sadly. Zilch.
Chapter Six
Gillian let out another contented sigh, and Cal smiled. As grumpy as he was pretending to be, he was actually enjoying the film, although of course that had more to do with having Gillian next to him, smiling brightly at the children, the songs… everything, really. As the children heard Maria join in their singing and realised she had returned, Cal suddenly felt Gillian move, and she reached sideways to grab a tissue.
"Are you crying?" he asked, incredulously.
"It's an emotional part of the story!" she said defensively, dabbing at her eyes, and Cal had to laugh.
"Course it is, love."
"Shut up," she said, smiling through her tears. "Just because you've got a heart of stone."
He chuckled, bringing his arm around Gillian's shoulders again as they continued watching the movie. Gillian's tears had dried, but she kept the tissue handy, ready for the other two scenes that made her a little weepy – the wedding and the ending. She'd seen this movie thousands of times, and knew every line by heart, but suddenly one of her favourite lines came as almost a surprise to her. "You can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else", the Captain told Maria. I did, she thought, blinking hard as she fought to keep her eyes fixed on the screen and away from Cal.
"You can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else." Cal tried not to react to that line, but he couldn't help it. What happens if you've already married someone when you fall in love with someone else?
He was forced out of his thoughts by a sniff from Gillian as Maria started walking down the aisle. "Crying again, love?"
"Weddings make me cry, okay?" She punched him lightly on the arm. "Now shut up or I'll stop feeding you gingerbread and cider."
"Ah, but that was part of our deal – I'd play in the snow with you in return for gingerbread and cider and an afternoon of contentment and relaxation. The very fact you're making me watch this overly cheery stuff is almost enough to make me think you're not keeping up your end of the bargain, but I'll let that slide provided the cider keeps flowing and the gingerbread men keep coming."
She laughed. "I suppose I did agree to that, didn't I?"
"You did. Now, sssh, or we'll miss the wedding. Ah, bless, aren't they sweet," he said in an overly sarcastic tone, and Gillian shook her head.
"Unsentimental doesn't even begin to cover it, does it?" she teased.
He grinned at her and reached forwards for another gingerbread man, munching on it happily. Gillian smiled, and leant over him slightly to flick the lamp on.
"Oh, I was enjoying the darkness. Partly because it matches my mood when watching any film involving singing, but it also gave the room a rather cinema-like ambiance. I was hoping for a snog in the back row."
"You'll be lucky." She settled herself back into position against the sofa, Cal's arm still draped loosely around her shoulders as they continued to watch the movie. Cal pretended to cover his ears when Gillian joined in the singing at the festival, and she persisted in calling him a misery, grumpy and 'in desperate need of a bit more singing' in his life.
Eventually, the film drew to a close, and although Cal let out a dramatic sigh as if to say, Thank God that's over, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed the last two hours of watching the film, snuggled under the blanket with Foster.
"Ah," Gillian said, dabbing at her eyes. "The ending, it gets me every time."
"Are there any movies that don't make you cry?"
She considered this. "Pulp Fiction?" she said at last, and Cal laughed.
"Not really your kind of movie is it, love?"
"It's not bad." She yawned. "It's really dark now," she commented, pushing the blanket off her legs and standing up. She crossed towards the window and peered outside. "And it's still snowing," she said. "Woah."
"What?" Cal stood up and joined her at the window.
"Woah indeed," he said. He thought there'd been a lot of snow earlier – if that was a lot, he didn't know how to describe what he was looking at now. A hell of a lot, perhaps. There had to be at least eight inches, and his car was completely covered.
"Cal," Gillian said, "you're not going anywhere tonight. No arguments," she added sternly.
As if I'd argue, Cal thought with a slight smile. "Right you are, love," he said. "Looks like you're stuck with me for a bit longer then."
"Unfortunately." Gillian stuck her tongue out at him, but couldn't stop a small smile flickering across her face. "So, what next? I'll be generous and give you a choice – Notting Hill, Gone with the Wind or Casablanca." She grinned at the expression on his face. "What'll it be?"
Cal chewed on his bottom lip as he considered his options. "Don't suppose you've got Pulp Fiction?"