A/N: For those only interested in the Cal ending - this is not it. :D I'd love it if you read it anyway, but I understand if you don't. This is part 1 of the pro-Dave version of the story. Part 2 will involve Cal a great deal more. Chapters after that will be pro-Cal and completely different. Just sayin!

"You're tense." Dave's voice rumbled, making Gillian smile with her eyes closed. "You're letting work get to you again..."

In her office, Gillian opened her eyes and shook her head, chuckling at herself for daydreaming again. Her neck hurt, and the feeling radiated out into her shoulders. What she would have done for one of Dave's massages...he'd always found every single knot, kneading them until she couldn't remember why they'd formed in the first place. But Dave was gone. He'd been gone for a long time, and there was no use wishing anymore. Gillian took her hands from the back of her neck and put her fingertips back on her computer's keyboard, fully intending to finish the email that she'd started. She had to distract herself somehow, before the good memories made her sad again.

Outside her office, down the hall, the new receptionist was greeting a tall, handsome man with red hair and an impossibly gravelly voice. The new receptionist hadn't been around for very long. She'd never seen Gillian meet this man for lunch. The receptionist had never seen him stop by just to say hi, and she'd never seen them leave together when Gillian was done after an especially long day. The new receptionist didn't know him, so when he strolled in and asked to see Gillian Foster, she didn't register the nervous way his hands gripped the counter. She didn't quite understand why his gaze moved about the hallway in quick glances. It didn't occur to her that he might be afraid of encountering the man whose name was glowing on the opposite wall.

"Welcome to the Lightman Group, sir. Do you have an appointment?" the relatively young woman greeted him.

"Uh, no." said Dave, distracted by his surroundings. It looked the same. It felt familiar. Something about the vibe of the place was different, though. He hoped at least one thing hadn't changed. "Is Dr. Foster in?"

"Um." the new receptionist hesitated. She'd been trained, thoroughly, but those random visitors still threw her off. "I'll check, if you could just wait here?"

"That's fine." Dave nodded, his smile polite and tight-lipped.

"Can I have your name, sir?"

It was his turn to hesitate. He'd had so many. He wanted to pick the one that would mean the most to her.

"Could you tell her Dave Atherton is here to see her?"

To see her. To touch her. To get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. To tell her everything he couldn't say the last time he saw her.

The girl in front of him nodded, oblivious to his thoughts. Her smile was wider than his, but perhaps less sincere. "I'll be right back." she said, leaving him alone at her desk. Dave cleared his throat, and scratched his forehead with his thumb nail. He was nervous as hell, and he hoped Cal wasn't around. It occurred to him then that he probably should have waited. He probably should have gone to her apartment that evening instead of ambushing her at work.

But he'd come straight from the airport. A year was long enough.

"Dr. Foster?"

Gillian looked up at the soft knock, and smiled expectantly when her new hire poked her head between the door and the jamb.

"A Dave Atherton is here to see you?" the girl reported, as if she wasn't sure.

Gillian's heart stopped. It stopped. It was just for a second, but she felt it in her bones. Her very first thought was that Cal was trying to play a joke on her, and she felt horrible afterward for thinking it. The very idea made her want to hide under her desk until the world ended.

"Should I let him in?" the receptionist asked. "Or...?"

After a few awkward seconds, Gillian realized she was staring. "What did you say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." the receptionist took a step inside, thinking she hadn't spoken loudly enough. She'd been admonished by Cal once for being too shy. "Dave Atherton is here to see you?"

It wasn't any more believable the second time around. Half of Gillian's emotional recovery had been telling herself that he wasn't coming back, that he couldn't come back, even if he wanted to, so there was no use worrying, wishing or hoping.

"Should I tell him you're busy?" the nice girl offered, reading her boss wrong.

"No." Gillian said quickly. A year was long enough to wait, even if a few seconds wasn't long enough to prepare for a reunion. "Bring him in. I mean, tell him he can come back. He can come in."

The receptionist nodded. She didn't know Dave, so she didn't understand why Gillian was suddenly so flustered. She'd never seen Dr. Foster this way, correcting her own speech not once but twice for one simple instruction. Like she had to get it just right.

When her doorway was once again empty, Gillian tried to swallow, and found that she couldn't. She thought she'd been doing so well. She thought she was almost over him, and suddenly she was back there, fresh with grief and love and a torn out heart. If he was there, if he was really out there and it wasn't just some cruel joke or cruel coincidence, some other man with the same name...if he was there, she was not going to get any work done for the rest of the day.

They'd fetishized every memory. Hand holding, private jokes, the quiet way they supported each other. All of it had been drawn into a fantasy. It was hard to take, after all that wanting, the thought that they'd be in the same room again. It was almost too much, since relief had to take a backseat to the shock and the uncertainty. It would be clear after a few minutes of honest discussion, but they'd have to get through seeing each other first.

She wanted to wait at her desk. She wanted to be professional for some reason, because her brain couldn't process any other way of being. That feeling passed quickly, and Gillian stood up, smoothing the front and back of her clothing. She went to the door, still not believing. She peeked into the hallway. His head was bowed when she spotted him, but he looked up a moment later.

The last time she'd seen him, it had been after a day of captivity and a harsh beating. But that had been one day out of many. It may have been the last day, but Gillian remembered so many others. So much time - though, it had never been enough - spent memorizing the details of his face. Gillian's heart seized up, and a lump formed in her throat. He was clean shaven now, and his head had been buzzed a few weeks ago, judging by its current length.

What had he been doing all this time?

Her hair was different too. Longer now. He saw it when he looked up and found her half hiding behind her door. They were both afraid to show any emotion, but their vulnerable smiles were too powerful to supress. He stepped closer, close enough to see the tiny wrinkles around her eyes.

"Gillian."

His voice. Saying her name. Gillian gripped the door handle, taking a step backward to widen the opening. She couldn't speak. She didn't know what to say, and the lump in her throat had grown so big it prevented her from winging it. Dave stepped into her office, watching her eyes and waiting. Her smile was transforming. She was going to cry. Guilt hit him for the millionth time, humbling him just a little bit further for this woman.

She moved. She hesitated. And then she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck very carefully. Sudden movement might disrupt the mirage, she told herself. But once she had her arms around him she knew he was real. She felt his big, strong arms wrap around her waist, and she knew it had to be real.

"Oh my god." he groaned, squeezing her so tight, not knowing if he'd ever be able to let go again. He felt her body shake once, as one sob escaped her throat, so he held her tighter. "I thought about you every day, Gill." he said quietly, his mouth so close to her ear. "Every second, of every minute, of every day."

Her tears started flowing, eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared as her hard cry began. She hated breaking apart so easily. Until she'd heard his name again, she thought she'd grown past it, but something in his voice told her she still meant everything to him.

"I'm so sorry I left you." he said, only making it worse. She'd never blamed him. She'd never been able to bring herself to that place of anger, which had always made it harder. He'd always blamed himself, though. He'd dragged her through it, even when he knew better, just so he would have someone to cuddle with on Sunday mornings. "Ohh, god." he sighed, the relief palpable as he squeezed her. The fact that she'd reached for him first, before saying anything, made him feel better about his own life than he had in a very long time. Since the last time she'd reached for him.

He held her until she got her crying under control. She sniffled, taking one of her hands back to wipe the stream of tears from her cheeks. She laughed a tiny laugh, finding her own behavior ridiculous.

"I'm sorry." she said, taking her other arm back, using both hands to wipe that heavy, steady stream of tears. Dave shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." he told her sternly. She looked up, into his eyes, asking Really? in a silent, childlike way. "Absolutely nothing." he said.

"Neither do you." said Gillian, but he wouldn't accept that so easily. He looked so ashamed, prepared to explain every way he'd hurt her, but now that she had her voice back she had questions.

"How are you here right now?" she said, her voice weak. "Where have you been all this time?"

"On a case." he said simply, both of them knowing the details of that didn't matter, not now that he was back. "My last case." he said, amending the statement and giving it far more meaning. It caused a fresh wave of tears, new hope that she didn't want to accept until she knew that this was real too.

"They retired me, Gill. I'm out."

A single cry that was equal parts sob and laughter came out of Gillian. How many times had she fantasized about this? Enough times to forget it was actually possible. She set her hands on his chest, feeling his shirt, feeling what she knew were strong muscles underneath it. Her eyes wandered over his chest and shoulders, studying the patterns of the thread on his shirt. How? she wanted to ask. She felt his hand cup her face, hiding his fingers between her hair and her neck, and she looked up at him, struck again by the newness of his clean shaven face. There was love in his gaze, and in his touch. She could feel it, without reading.

"When?" she heard her own voice ask, as if on its own, "When did this happen?"

"They filed the paperwork yesterday."

The next wave of emotion hit her, and Gillian became a blubbering mess. He'd run right back to her, first thing. And now she knew it.

"Can I kiss you?"

Gillian was sitting next to Dave, on the couch in his apartment. She'd entered a bachelor's lair, and she'd allowed him to seduce her. She was going to leave that apartment a satisfied woman, she could already tell. He asked permission to taste her lips; maybe he already knew Gillian's clothes were about to come off at the mere suggestion of sex. The air in her lungs became infused with her desire, and when she answered him he could hear the lust in her words.

"Yes, please." she whispered. Dave smiled at her sweetness, and she smiled back, knowing exactly how it had sounded.

"Can I kiss you?" Dave asked in real time, more than a year later. In that one simple question he was covering all his bases. Are you seeing someone else? Did you ever start hating me for what I did to you? Are we still a couple even though I left you without saying goodbye?

Without really thinking about it - without wondering whether she should, in fact, be angry at Dave, for letting her fall in love, leaving her, and then coming back, expecting her to drop everything and go back to him - Gillian smiled through her tears and nodded. She swept the steady stream of tears away from her cheeks. They were replaced by more tears, and even when she licked her lips, trying to rid them of the salty taste, they still kept coming. Dave took both of his hands and set them on either side of her face, his thumbs very slowly and gently sweeping a line across her cheeks, from her nose outward.

His touch had a soothing effect. Gillian's pounding heart slowed to a liveable rate, and, looking into his eyes, she was able to breathe. In the back of her mind she knew it was stupid. In the back of her mind she still thought it was a dream. But it was all her broken heart wanted, so she allowed herself to believe everything was going to be okay.

Gillian and Dave snuck out the back door of the Lightman Group. Gillian took Dave back to her place, and suddenly it was Sunday again. In no time at all, they had all their clothes off, and it was like they'd never been apart. The difference was the urgency, the intensity and the passion. They knew what it felt like to be denied, to not be able, no matter how much they longed for it. Dave sat on the edge of Gillian's bed, and she straddled his lap, and she took him inside of her and despite everything she'd taught herself about independence and self respect, only then did she finally feel whole again. They moved against one another until they were sweating, Gillian's arms all around his neck, his hands gripping her hips like she was trying to get away. She could moan as loud as she wanted now, because he was right there with her, telling her how much he'd missed her, how much he'd thought of her this way during their time apart.

"You're all I thought about, Gillian..." he said without thinking, the words pouring out of his mouth as they came to him. Pleasure shot through her every time she heard his sex-strained voice, proof beyond the feeling of him sliding in and out of her that he'd barely been living without her. I need you, Gillian said with her body, I fucking need you and it hurt when you were away. Dave understood, he felt what she was feeling, every time she rocked her body against his. It was hard, and fast, and maybe Gillian was going to be sore later but she didn't care. She was getting so close and all she could think about were his lips and having him so deep inside of her she could feel it in every breath they were taking. They kissed and kissed and kissed, and when Gillian felt her orgasm begin, her open mouth was pressed against his in a kiss that froze the moment he felt her muscles contract around him. She cried out, and he wrapped his arms all the way around her waist as her body shook. She hugged his neck, holding him close as her hips moved faster, and she rode it out, mind completely blank for a few precious moments as she came just from having him inside of her. Pleasure, everywhere, squeezing him, tensing every muscle. When it started to fade, the motion of her hips slowed, and she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. It had been that good.

Dave dragged his lips across her jaw, and buried his face between her neck and shoulder. He was making those telltale sounds, and Gillian started her steady rocking again. His hips moved underneath her, both of them pushing forward and toward each other at the same time. The sounds in his throat grew more intense, and she could hear in them how desperate he'd been for her. She wanted to see it. She took his face in her hands, gripping his head to steady herself. She stared at his face until he looked up at her. He saw the tears, soft on her face, and he realized fully the intensity of their lovemaking. He wondered if - no, he knew she was reading him. He showed her everything. He looked into her eyes and showed her he was fucking the love of his life and, when he came, he came like his body was on fire and Gillian was the only water that could put him out. He called out her name, and hips jerked up into her, and she held on tighter, never letting go. His eyes closed, the warmth of her causing his heart to ache. She let her eyes slip closed in response, and she let her arms slip around his neck again as his warmth poured into her in waves.

When it was over - when they sat there, silent, still connected as they caught their breath - Gillian could feel her heart pounding in her chest. That's when she realized they hadn't used protection. That's when Gillian realized that she'd left her heart wide open, and that after a year of healing she was back at the start, vulnerable and needing him again. Her eyes fluttered open, and with tear-blurred vision she stared at the alarm clock on her bedside table. The red lights blurred into a meaningless blob the longer she looked. A blink would only bring them into focus for a moment.

When the last number on the clock changed, she let her eyes slip closed again, letting her mind return to the man in her arms. She could feel his breath, heavy on her chest, as his senses returned to him. Her thighs still squeezed his waist. She was afraid to let go and ruin this perfect moment before they started talking again.

Maybe they could lie in silence for a while, and stretch the moment out a little longer.

She still had so many questions.

He knew she had questions. But they did lie there in silence, for a full thirty minutes before either of them spoke a word. Dave was on his back, staring at the ceiling, in the same exact daze as the woman curled up next to him, her head on his chest as she stared at a spot between herself and the far wall. His arm held her around her shoulders, and that hand stroked her back up and down with endless tender caresses. It kept her calm. It kept her from falling apart.

"Are you okay?" Dave asked her. The sound of his voice again, the sound of it in her bedroom, made Gillian close her eyes and feel every inch that their skin was touching. That felt good. But she was not okay.

"What does that mean, they retired you?" she said, forcing the words out of her mouth even though the disrupted the warm fuzzy feeling of being with him again.

"It means you never have to worry about them contacting me, ever again." he said, with confidence and finality.

Gillian's heart hardened at the word never. Dave knew better than to promise her that. With a clearer head than before, Gillian lifted her upper body off of his. She stayed close, leaning on her elbow as she gazed directly into his eyes. His hand still rested on her back. He believed what he said. She just didn't know why.

"We both know the government isn't exactly fond of forgetting about people like you." she said, very serious. Dave looked back at her, feeling every word, until he started to feel the grime of his past sneaking up on him. He didn't want to get her dirty. He never wanted her to feel dirty because of him.

People like me. People who take lives - people who took lives - in the name of...something.

He averted his eyes, but he didn't withdraw emotionally. He was smart enough to know Gillian deserved better than that. That's why he'd come back; he'd asked for another chance and she'd given to him, and that's why her questions were fair.

"How do you know they won't call you one day," she asked. "Or show up on your doorstep? On my doorstep?"

Dave's expression remained steady. Gillian shook her head gently, absent-mindedly. His confidence wasn't good enough to convince her. She was still staring at him, still needing a clear explanation. Dave took a deep breath, and she waited patiently.

"Some bad shit went down." he began. "On the last case."

There he went again, using those definitive, final words. Never, last, retired.

"Isn't that exactly the sort of thing that would make them come after you?"

"You make the agency sound like the criminals." he said, trying to make light of things and regretting it instantly when she remained serious.

"They took you away from me once." she said, her eyes drilling holes through his heart until it it bled. "If there's even the smallest chance that could happen again, I need to know. Now."

Dave watched Gillian's eyes fill with the tears that she was fighting. Her voice was steady and commanding, but at the same time she was remembering the year she'd had to live without him. Every part of her felt weak for him, except for that part that needed to know.

"Gillian." said Dave.

He said her name like it was a promise. She hoped the rest of it would be that good.

"I wouldn't have come back if I didn't think I could make you happy."

Gillian shut her eyes, squeezing another tear from each of their corners.

I'm crying again, she thought, as Dave raised the hand that wasn't on her back to wipe the tears that had started falling. And he doesn't want any of the tears touching my pillow.

"Tell me." she said, leaning into his touch as she opened her eyes again. "I need to know how."

"I know you do." he said. His quick exhalation was one of relief, and amusement. She always found out the whole truth with gentle, direct detective work. He'd witnessed her working with Lightman and Dave could always see why Cal needed her. Why he wanted her. Dave was sure Cal still wanted her, and would still be protective of her to the point of being painfully obvious about his feelings.

Dave thanked every deity he could think of that he'd gotten back in time to get her back. Now that he had his second chance he wasn't going to let her go. Ever again.