"These aren't mine," Emily came into the dining room where Cal was folding the laundry and stacking it on the table. Emily had already taken her pile down to her room and come back for the towels. Cal had to put away his washing and the kitchen items, like dish towels, place mats and cloths. In his daughter's hand was black lace and Cal felt his mouth go suddenly dry and his balls want to creep up inside him to protect themselves.

Busted.

So busted. He'd forgotten all about the black lace. He obviously wasn't paying too much attention to divvying up the washing. He didn't really want to pay too much attention to underwear that was not his own. As in, underwear that was his daughter's.

"Are these Gillian's?" Emily asked him pointedly, gesturing a little with the underwear in her hand towards him.

"Uh," Cal lunged suddenly to try and snatch the bra and underwear set out of her grasp.

Emily withdrew her hand easily to behind her back, like she had been anticipating the move. "Is Gillian doing laundry here?" She asked with that wide-eyed Bambi look that didn't fool Cal anymore.

"Well not really," he tried. The truth was kind of complicated but it involved not being able to freaking keep their hands off each other and a lot of foreplay with, uh, massage oils and stuff, and that equalled very messy and well, Gillian hadn't been heading straight home after she had left him that morning and she didn't want the, uh, stuff to stain her clothes or underwear and Cal had said 'just chuck them in the wash then' and she was dubious because he wasn't the only person who did washing in this house and he promised he'd get them back before Emily even knew anything about it and she said 'ok you better' and he said he would but he had totally failed. Totally.

"It's ok if she is," Emily told him, pointedly, standing there, staring at him, waiting for him to just admit something he didn't want to.

"Well she's not."

"But she could, if she's staying over on the weekend, or something?" Emily gave a little nonchalant shrug.

"You stay ova on the weekend," Cal pointed out, trying to deny.

"Not all the time," Emily retorted. "Is that when she comes over? When I'm not here?" And she distinctly looked a little hurt.

"Sometimes," Cal mumbled, turning back to his pile of tea towels. The underwear landed in front of him and he quickly scooped it up and tucked it under a t-shirt on top of his pile. He also had Gillian's shirt and jeans there too that he was hoping he could have snuck out of the room without Emily noticing. The underwear had slipped his mind. Which was pitiful. Or perhaps Freudian.

Emily leaned against the table. "You know Dad, it's ok that she stays over and does laundry and stuff."

Cal looked up at her. He was essentially trying to deny that he and Gillian were serious, that she didn't stay over and they didn't do domesticated things like washing or dishes or cooking. Or that she had clothes there. Which she did. But for whatever reason he wasn't sure. To deny that he had something serious with her? Or was it to deny to his daughter that he had something serious going on with another woman? He hadn't dated since he broke up with her mother. Was that weird for her? Or was that weirder for him?

"You guys are obviously sleeping together," Emily kept going, directing a hand at the underwear as proof. "And I'm not a kid anymore. You don't have to sneak around. I think it would be better if you don't."

"Oh really?" Cal gave her an unimpressed expression. So he denied it and she saw through him anyway. Great.

"What if Gillian thinks she doesn't mean that much to you because you won't bring her home to meet your daughter?"

"You've already met. Several times," Cal gave her an expression that was meant to say 'you're freaking crazy'. "You go shoppin' together and all sorts of otha stuff. Sometimes you act," and he stopped himself from saying 'like she's your mother'. "Like you like her more than you like me."

Emily gave him a pout. "I do."

"Oi!"

She gave him a bright smile and then it faded and she was composed again. "Seriously Dad. Just maybe invite her over for dinner ok? So we can all have a meal together, like grownups."

"I'll ask," Cal responded dryly. They had, of course, had meals together before but he knew what Emily meant. Gillian was his... something and Emily was his daughter and the dynamics of all of their relationships had changed now. Which kind of warranted a little reworking to see how they all fit together again. Or something. That's what Gillian would rationalise to him if he brought it up with her. He knew her too well. Cal finished with the towels and pushed them down the table towards his daughter, then grabbed up his pile of clothes and Gillian's underwear.

"Then you can go on pretending you're not sleeping together all you like," Emily added under her breath as he started to walk away.

Cal gave a heavy defeated kind of sigh and headed down the hall to his room to put his pile of clothes away. Emily was right. Gillian should come over for dinner with all three of them there, like grownups. He was serious about her and Em was his daughter and he shouldn't hide them from each other, that wasn't right. He shouldn't be acting like he was ashamed, far from it. Emily was wrong about one thing though. Gillian wasn't going to get the wrong impression. She was as much an advocate of sneaking around as he was. The person their relationship was giving a wrong impression to was Emily. Cal was supposed to be setting a good example.