Generic Explainy A/N: Did I say traditional narrative structure? Bahhh. Anyway, this is the first part of the Cal ending, in which I totally make up for chapter 3, and then introduce a slight creep factor. :D Dave's gonna be all up in the mix, but...he's different in this one. So, go back and read chapter one, and pretend two and three never happened!
Special Credit A/N: Thanks to McBreezy, the -ina to my Audr-, for explaining a very important debate. I think she made it up on the spot too.
Special Wedding Gift A/N:
Dear T-rard,
I'm holding my fingertip to my chin, imagining the two of you sitting on the couch in front of a modest fire (in the fireplace, don't call 911) sipping hot cocoa while you read this together. It's what motivates me, really. That and the fact that I feel bad about the Dave ending (even though Dave/Gill makes me happy too). LOL. Enjoy, and stay married 'til I finish this thing!
So much can happen in a year. Two people can grow apart, stop talking, start thinking the relationship is over for good. Then, like magic, like that year never happened at all, those same two people can find each other again. They can realize what they had was too important to throw away. They can decide to get over their mistakes, look past all the hurting they've caused each other and move on. One can kiss the other, in a moment of weakness and lust, and they can rediscover the tenderness that had been lost from their friendship.
So many good and bad things can happen, to two people, together. The bad reminds them that no life, no relationship, is ever perfect. And the good reminds them that all the bad is worth it in the end. No matter what.
Cal and Gillian were going through a rough patch. Most of the year had been a rough patch, really, save for those first few glorious months when they'd realized having sex was better than fighting. Eventually she'd started laughing at his jokes again, and her laughter reminded him that being tender was a hell of a lot more rewarding than being a total dick. Her smiles reminded him that a happy Gillian was a happy Cal, but sometimes they were not so happy. Jealousies lingered, and certain names that could not be avoided because of work still set them off without notice. Understanding their feelings didn't make it any easier; it was the getting past them that would count.
They'd gone to bed angry last night. They'd tossed and turned, their dreams filled with dark metaphors. Work was stressing them out, more than usual. They both realized, when they woke up sad the next morning, that work stress had been the primary cause of their fight. Unacceptable. There were so many other things, juicy things, they had to fight about. The work stress fights were such a time waster.
Cal woke up sad and laid in bed, letting paranoia get the best of him when he decided he'd better be the one to apologize first. He was alone in the bed. She'd gotten up before him. They didn't live together yet, but Gillian still spent the night even when she was angry at him. It was better than sleeping alone, even if one of them had to wake up alone. He was reminded once again why he usually chose to have sex with women that didn't mean much to him beyond a conquest. The thought of losing Gillian brought genuine fear to his heart.
After staring at the ceiling for a good twenty minutes, Cal sat up. After staring at the floor for another five, he left the bedroom, barefoot and boxered, and went to the kitchen where Gillian was drinking her morning coffee. He'd started buying a different kind for her, so she'd stop going to Starbucks every morning.
"It's a waste of money." he said. "It's a rip off is what it is."
"I like their coffee." she replied, voice flat, refusing to be steamrolled by his negativity even though, deep down, she agreed with him. It led to bickering, which led to a fight, which then led to Gillian's deadly silent treatment. So he bought three bags of the coffee and asked her to sleep over. The sex had been great that night.
The sex had not been great the night before. The sex had not been had at all. They'd gone to bed angry, but worse than that they'd gone to bed proud, too proud to see that their fights never mattered. All that mattered was that they wanted to be together, no matter how hard Cal made it for that to be possible. Gillian was trying, she really was, but she could only take so much, and Cal was always Cal. Sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter, and always in love with Gillian.
"Show me," Gillian said, demanding as Cal undressed her. "Show me how sorry you are."
He laid her down on the bed, not saying a word as he kissed her, his hand already in her panties. She closed her eyes and gave into him, caressing the back of his head when he kissed his way down and buried his face between her legs. He worked his mouth on her until she couldn't remember what their fight had been about, until she was shaking and calling out for him even though he was already there, as close as he could be without being inside of her.
Cal found Gillian in the kitchen, drinking their make up coffee, the morning after not having make up sex. The instant he saw her he lost his resolve to apologize. Something about the quiet way she sat there, not turning around, trying to ignore the problem even as she perpetuated it, stirred the stubborn side of him.
He filled her completely, and she squeezed his waist with her legs while he dug his fingertips into the flesh of her thigh. Hurting each other through the pleasure had become part of the process of letting go, and they always cuddled like bunnies afterward. That particular night, though she hadn't demanded it, Cal made it his mission to make her come again, so that she'd never forget how sorry he was. She felt his fingertips, no longer digging into her leg but rubbing her somewhere else, and she held on lightly to his wrist until the feeling overtook her. Then her hand clamped onto his wrist and her body screamed at him while her voice merely cried in bleating moans. When she was done he really let himself go, pushing into her with such force she had to clutch at his back to keep herself from stopping him.
Gillian could tell. Cal wanted to have sex like that now. He wanted to screw out their differences and make her forget why they'd been fighting, but she wasn't in the mood. She didn't want to forget just yet.
"I'll see you at work, okay?" she said, kind but firm. They slept together, but they didn't carpool yet. No one at the office knew about the new facet of their relationship. They would leave a few minutes apart, sometimes fifteen, taking slightly different routes so that no one would suspect. Cal thought it was pathetic, but that's what Gillian wanted. She had him on a string. He'd never had it so bad, not for anyone else.
"I don't want to fight with you" Cal said, when he was spooning her afterward. He buried his face in her neck and kissed her there, and then lifted his head to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I don't ever want to fight with you."
Gillian pulled his arm tighter around her waist, and lifted her shoulder to give his face a hug. "I know." she replied quietly. Gillian turned her head to meet Cal's lips, and she kissed him gratefully. "Neither do I."
It was a wish, not a promise. They never wanted to, but they always ended up doing it anyway.
Cal remained silent as Gillian rinsed her mug and put it in the sink. She'd be back later that night, and she'd wash the mug along with all the rest of the breakfast and dinner dishes. He let her leave, and he waited in the kitchen, wondering if they'd be okay, until he realized he hadn't showered yet. He was going to be late to the morning meeting, and he didn't even care. There was a voice inside his head, telling him she'd finally had enough, and he could have made everything okay if he'd just said I'm sorry when he had the chance.
Ten minutes passed. He was still standing in the kitchen, and he heard the front door open. Gillian appeared, walking straight toward him just the way he'd daydreamed she would. She walked up to him, took his face in her hands and kissed him very sweetly on the lips. She looked into his eyes, saw the sadness in them, and kissed him again. She couldn't bring herself to drive away from his place without doing that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, relieved when she felt his arms make their way around her waist. He sighed, relaxing physically against her as his mind relaxed into her forgiveness. "I love you." she whispered, squeezing him tighter. She hadn't forgotten last night's fight, but she was choosing to look past it, because she was that scared of losing him too.
You're still not over him.
The sound of those words in Cal's accent still stirred anger in Gillian's heart, but she was stubborn too. She refused to entertain his belief, and she refused to let Cal push her away because of it.
I'm with you now.
She said it, and she believed it. Now why didn't he believe it?
"I love you too." Cal answered earnestly.
"I can't believe you haven't showered yet." Gillian said, pulling back, stroking his familiar and unshaven face. He chuckled quietly, cracking a small smile. She thought he looked exhausted, and she knew she'd been the cause of it. Their fight and their feelings and their beliefs had been the cause of it. "We're going to be late to that meeting." she said, as Cal took both of her hands in his. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them each.
"Staff meeting." Cal reminded her, looking into her eyes when he placed her hands back on his cheeks. "We run it. We can push it back."
Gillian smiled softly at him, and he saw her eyes getting wet. The way his heart melted when she did that, it coated the rest of his guts with warm, thick-blooded love and made him feel completely done with ever being angry with her again.
"Okay." she said, even softer than her smile. "I can wait, if you want. We can ride in together?"
He was tired, too tired to respond with the usual But what would the children say? She'd taken her hands back, and was standing there in front of him, waiting for the answer to a much bigger question.
Is today the day we tell everyone? Is that what you need from me?
It wasn't. He needed all of her, and a public announcement about their relationship wasn't going to make things any easier.
"Go on." he told her gently, releasing her to the normal routine of pretending nothing had changed. "Tell 'em I'm hung over." he added jokingly, so she would know he wasn't angry anymore. She smiled gratefully in response, and kissed him once more before leaving.
Cal watched her leave again, less desperate but still worried about their future together. Her guilt had brought her back. Her fear. They were so busy fearing what might happen that they weren't allowing themselves to enjoy what already was.
Cal's hope for a quiet work day hadn't quite come true, but the Lightman Group had certainly seen worse. He and Gillian managed to keep from bickering, and that was a plus. They'd had a good day together at the office, and it was a relief that led them into a pleasant dinner at Cal's place. He cooked for her, and they drank wine, and Cal cleared the table so Gillian could get started on the dishes as always.
There was one plate left, and Cal stood with it in hand, next to his kitchen table, just staring at Gillian from behind. He adored the shape of her, the sight of her in front of the sink, her presence in his home. There was something imperfect in the way her hair fell just above her shoulders that completed the overall perfection of her appearance. She'd worn dark jeans that day, with a dark blue blouse on top, and the whole package crushed Cal's heart with love.
He brought the plate to her, placing it on the counter as he came up behind her. "Thank you." she murmured, turning her head and smiling when she felt him there, his hands on her waist. She kept her hands under the water and turned back to the dishes, thinking she could get the rest of it done before what they were about to do took her over. His left hand traveled up her side, across her back, up to her neck, where he swept her hair upward, exposing a specific area of skin for him to kiss. She felt his lips on her, right where the soft hairs ended and bare skin began. The feeling shot down her spine, all the way down her right leg.
"I missed you." he said quietly.
They'd been together all day. She knew what he meant.
Gillian let out a soft sigh, and a quiet moan. "I missed you too."
He kissed her again. His mouth opened, and he pressed his tongue against her skin, letting his fingers tangle in her hair where he held it. The hand at her waist dragged over her clothing, moving down, hard and flat until he curled it around her, cupping her firmly between her legs.
Gillian dropped the plate she was holding, and the sponge fell next to it. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, her back arching as a reflex. She pressed herself against him and he held her, rubbing her up and down and in circles until he got her throat to make one of those sexy sounds that drove him out of his mind. He made love to her neck with his mouth, and she reached up to hold the back of his head, grabbing a handful of his hair and squeezing so he'd feel it. She pushed herself away from the sink, and he pushed her toward it, so they stayed in the middle, feeling each other while the water continued to rush out of the faucet.
She made a more desperate sound, and she turned her head so she could kiss his mouth. Their kisses were sloppy, and wet, and Gillian moaned again into his mouth. Suddenly his hands were squeezing her breasts. Cal found her bra was in the way, and he needed to feel them, to feel her bare skin and her flesh in his hands. He reached up her shirt, pushing her bra up and out of the way in one motion, and he squeezed again and again, pushing them together and then letting them apart each time his hands relaxed.
She'd melted completely into him. His first soft kiss had turned her on and now she wanted him more than the air she was breathing.
"Take me to bed." she said between kisses, twisting in place so she could face him and push her tongue back in his mouth when they wrapped their arms around each other. They kissed, and for a while he had her pinned against the sink because he couldn't let her go even for a second. It lasted until she reached behind herself to turn the water off. "Come with me." she said, touching his face. She broke away, and she unbuttoned her shirt as she walked toward his bedroom. She looked over her shoulder to see him standing there, just watching her go.
He couldn't help it. Those mental snapshots he took, moments where he was just watching her, were what got him through the day. He saw her eyes for a second before she rounded the corner. He could see in her quick glance not only intense arousal but also a great amount of relief. He never understood that look of relief. As if he'd ever not want to do this with her.
Cal entered the bedroom with his shirt off, and found her tossing her jeans away. She was down to her panties, which Cal got off of her before she'd fully laid down on the bed. She was on her back, touching his shoulders while he stripped the rest of his clothing off, breathing heavy because he was going to be inside her and she just couldn't wait.
"Do you know how much I love you?" Cal asked Gillian, his best friend and now his lover, as he laid down on top of her. She felt his whole body at once, so warm against hers, and she wrapped her arms and legs around his torso. She wanted him closer than just touching, closer than pressing or squeezing, but he resisted with his upper body, trying to look at her face.
"Cal." she murmured, still trying to hide her feelings. There were times, still, when she couldn't stand being read. It was too much, especially when she was trying to forget the fight they'd had last night. He wouldn't give up. She surrounded his waist with her thighs, they were squeezed tight together there, but he wouldn't cover her completely. She quit trying to hug him close enough to prevent him from seeing her face, instead reaching her hands up to cover his eyes. It was a playful gesture. Cal took her wrists in his hands before she could make contact, and placed them down gently beside her head. He didn't restrain her; he flattened his palms, laced their fingers, and she clasped their hands together as she finally faced him for one last Are we going to be okay?'
"Do you know how much I love you?" He repeated, insisting, just as serious the second time. He didn't want her to know - he needed her to know, and Gillian could feel that. So she relented. She nodded, feeling every last bit of that love when she answered his question.
"I love you just as much." she said. She let him in, and she poured everything she had out of her eyes and into his. In the end, she was so happy she did - because that time, he finally believed her.
They made love for hours after that, exhausting themselves on each other because life was too short to get proper amounts of sleep when they were having a good time of it. They'd made a major breakthrough. Gillian would never use such a term to describe the progression of their relationship - not when she knew Cal would tease her endlessly for it - but she knew in her heart things had changed for the better for them. He did things to her body that she would not be able to erase from her mind. That night they loved each other so hard and so long, she truly believed everything would work out between them.
When they finally came to rest, when every part of Cal and every part of Gillian felt thoroughly loved over, they cuddled like they always did, exhausted but unable to get to sleep just yet.
"So what is the difference, then?" Cal asked as they settled, naked Gillian curled up on her side and naked Cal curled up close behind her. He held her tight around the waist, and his lips found the nape of her neck again.
"Cuddling includes kissing, and touching..." Gillian explained, smiling as Cal went on demonstrating both on her body. "And snuggling is just..."
He squeezed her, and she closed her eyes and smiled wider.
"Laying, and maybe...holding."
He demonstrated all of it at the same time, failing to prove her right or wrong. It didn't matter what she said. When they were happy, Gillian was always right.
"I think you made that up on the spot." Cal teased her anyway, because he loved the sound of her voice and wanted to hear her deny it. He pressed his face into her neck, and she yawned and pulled his hand up higher to cover her heart.
"I think we should get some sleep." Gillian murmured. He felt her body rest, and she felt his body still wide awake behind her. "I love you." she said, her tired murmur warmer to him than the blankets that covered them. Calmly, tenderly, Cal perched his chin on Gillian's shoulder, and gave her cheek the last kiss of the night.
"I love you." he said, not closing his eyes until he could hear and feel her even breath.
Across the street, parked outside Cal's house, was an economy rental car that had followed Gillian from the moment she left the Lightman Group offices. The driver had tailed her there, to Cal's address, and had been waiting outside for her to leave ever since. He'd waited all evening, and he was going to wait all night. At three in the morning, the driver realized she was going to spend the night. He realized she was probably in Cal's bed, probably naked, probably fucking Cal and loving Cal and being fucked and loved by Cal as well.
It would have broken the man's heart, if he'd had one left to break. He'd left his heart in DC twelve months ago, and now he was back, to claim what little of it he could find. In the shadows on Cal's street, in the parked rental, Dave leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He imagined a Sunday together with Gillian, and the anger he was feeling went away for a blissful moment. When he opened his eyes, he didn't see what was outside the windshield. He saw the rest of the night stretching out in front of him. He saw himself not sleeping, and he saw himself waiting there until both she and Cal left for work the next morning.
The lawyers were going to blow a gasket knowing he'd snuck out of his secure, guarded hotel room just to see a woman he'd dated during a previous case. He couldn't help himself. He had to see her, even if the closest he could get was fifty feet away.
He had a feeling she and Cal were fucking now. He had a feeling it was serious between them. And he had a strong feeling that he wouldn't be able to remain invisible to her for much longer. Even if it was just to say he was sorry, he would have to talk to her. Just once.
The lights in Cal's house had been off for a few hours. There was no activity in the house. The jealousy began to surface again, and Dave closed his eyes. In his fantasy, he was the man between Gillian's legs. In his fantasy, they had a long talk and she decided she wanted to be with him again. In his fantasy, there was no trial that needed his testimony, and he'd never been kidnapped and sent away in the first place. In his fantasy there was no Cal. Only Dave and Gillian, alone together.
Reality was sleeping soundly in Cal's bed. They were curled up together under a heavy blanket, tangled in each other's arms, safe for at least another day.