Gillian was curled against the back of the couch, her head resting on her left hand, her legs bent at the knee in front of her. Cal was sitting towards her, but with his feet on the floor, so his thigh was pressed against her knees and his body facing her, his head rested against the back of the couch so he looked up to talk to her. Cal shifted his hand to her right arm, brushing his fingers absently against her skin, not even looking at what he was doing or seemingly concentrating on it, before pulling back again.

"Do you miss your Dad?"

Gillian looked up a little, towards the roof, as she thought about her answer. "I... miss him in two ways," she looked at him again. Cal raised an eyebrow, silently inviting her to elaborate. "I miss what he could have been as a father. I miss those times I wish he'd been there and wasn't."

Cal nodded. "But you made up right?"

"Some."

"It's not enough?"

"I think the best to hope for is forgetting."

"Hm," Cal mused, or maybe agreed. He looked to his lap for a second, then back up at her, remembering she had said 'two' ways. "What's the otha way you miss him?"

"I miss seeing him because he lives in San Diego," Gillian answered simply.

Cal gave another slight nod, dropping his gaze again to this time watch as he brushed his fingers against her arm, down to her wrist, before falling away again. It was like he was testing again that she was there, tangible. He lifted his hand again instantaneously to press it around her hand and keep it there, warm and solid and large. His eyes came up to meet hers, as if tentatively checking her reaction, and then he shifted forward to press his lips against hers. He was soft, but possessive and yet also respectful. He didn't push her for more, just the kiss, even though she kissed him back, barely keeping herself under control; she didn't want him to know. Not all of it and not just yet. This was still new. Sort of. It was complicated. They had known each other a long time but this, the kissing bit, the touching, holding hands, it was new. Cal pulled away again and looked down at their hands resting together.

"Do you miss London?" Gillian felt the need to fill the silence. If she stopped to think, about him, about them, she felt overwhelmed.

"Not really sure," Cal looked up at her again.

"How can you not be sure?" Gillian prompted softly.

"I don't think about it," Cal responded simply.

"You don't think about your father? Your brother?"

Cal gave a shrug. "I... pretty much cut and run."

'Emotional distance,' Gillian thought to herself. But that was Cal, so what else did she really expect? It grounded her again, reminded her that really they had a long way to go before there would be any sort of... It wasn't just about sex. It was about dropping all the other boundaries as well. She had just come out of a divorce and she was the one who insisted they don't sleep together just yet, because she wanted to make sure she was ready. She wanted to make sure she really was over her husband. She didn't want to screw this up with Cal. But Cal also needed to drop boundaries. He had walls and they were well constructed. They had stood the test of time and many a battering. The only person who could take them down was him. He had to.

Cal had cooked her dinner tonight for their date and they'd had wine before lounging on the couch and talking. Cal had offered a movie but they had never got around to put anything on. They just talked and talked and talked. It was already late but Gillian didn't want to leave. She was really enjoying their conversation. She enjoyed spending time with him, watching for little glimpses of the real him beneath his armour.

"I left a long time ago," Cal went on, choosing to elaborate. "And I've not been back for a while. I don't really miss what I don't realise I miss."

Gillian thought about that for a moment. "I think I understand that. I don't realise how much I miss my father until I see him again."

Cal gave a slight smile. "That."

Gillian reached out with her left hand to smoother her fingers through his hair. It was soft and she was more struck with the fact that she was allowed to touch him when she wanted to, particularly in this way. Cal looked up at her with soft grey eyes and they were silent for a moment. Gillian had a sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him but she fought it back. It wasn't fair to tease. She didn't mean to tease. She didn't want to wind him or herself up. She wanted him, sure, but she also didn't want Cal to be her rebound. There was a school of thought that said it would take half the amount of time of a relationship to get over the person the relationship was with. She had been with Alec for twelve years. There was no way she was going to wait for six years to go by before she was with Cal. Maybe six months... She had already known him six years.

"Do you think your Mom would have stayed in London?"

"What do you mean?" Cal met her eye again.

"If you'd asked her to move, do you think she would have? Or do you think she would have stayed in London. With your father?" What Gillian meant, was if she was still alive. If she hadn't killed herself and life had gone on as normal. Then again, would Cal have even run away?

"Don't know about that," Cal quickly responded. It seemed he had given it some prior consideration. "I don't think she would've stayed with him once Thomas and I had gone."

Gillian nodded.

"Not sure she'd leave London though," Cal mused. "I've not though about that." He was silent for a moment. Gillian let her fingers fall still, resting on top of his head. "I don't think she'd want to leave Thomas. He had Sarah you know?"

"You had Emily."

"Sarah came first."

Gillian understood what he meant. If Louise had settled she probably would have stayed put. Gillian wondered how she would have dealt with a granddaughter in another country. Then again, she could muse all she wanted, she didn't know hardly a thing about Cal's mother. Just that she had been deeply unhappy and had taken her own life to escape.

"I think she might have liked DC though," Cal went on.

Gillian met his eye again and gave him a tentative smile. He was trying to open up. For her. Then she yawned, wide, her jaw cracking open, making her eyes water. "Oh," she put a hand over her mouth, a little embarrassed.

Cal grinned at her. "Am I borin' you?"

"No," Gillian quickly answered but Cal was teasing and she laughed a little, sliding her hand to cup around his ear.

"Bed time then," Cal countered. He flicked back the sleeve of his shirt to see his watch. "It's late."

"Ok," Gillian agreed with a whisper. She started to move, to straighten her legs out but Cal's hand dropped to her knee, stilling her again. She met his eyes, had that overwhelming urge to kiss him again; a desperate need to feel the warmth of his mouth, the pressure of his lips. His kisses were heaven.

"Stay," Cal murmured gently.

"Cal," Gillian warned.

"Just stay," he tried again. "It's late and you've had wine and it's a long way to go." His hand squeezed her knee and shifted to her arm again, brushing over her skin, making her shiver inside, quiver with wanting to say 'yes'.

"It's cold outside," he went on gently, his voice soft and smooth and hypnotising and convincing. "And..."

"Ok," Gillian agreed. Damn it.

Cal pushed away from the couch, no gloating or triumph, just acceptance. He wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. He turned back for her hand and pulled her to stand, waiting for her to unfold her legs. She was shorter than him without heels on and she liked that. He headed for the door, hitting the lights on the way out, ignoring the dirty wine glasses on the low table. She followed him without complaint to his bedroom, her stomach tightening as they approached. Only then she seemed to realise that this was probably not a good idea.

Cal put the overhead lights on and kept a hold of her hand as he took a few steps in, then let her go and crossed to close the curtains. Gillian noted the black and white photograph on the wall, the dark curtains, the chocolate brown sheets on the bed... and she wondered what she was doing. Was he thinking...? Expecting...? Hoping...?

"What's your preference?"

"Huh?" Gillian realised Cal had moved to a tall boy. He had a top drawer open.

"I can give you a shirt." He turned to her unperturbed. "Unless you'd prefer to sleep in nothin'?" He said it so deadpan.

Gillian gave a slight smile. "A shirt will be fine, thank you."

Cal picked one out and tossed it at her. She only barely caught it before it slammed into her face. He headed out of the room again, to the hallway, and she wondered where he had gone until she heard another door click shut, then water in pipes; he must be brushing his teeth. Gillian quickly took her shirt off and put Cal's on. God it smelt like him and she gulped to find her breath again. And then she removed her trousers and put them over the end of his bed, with her shirt. She unhooked her bra and slid it off her shoulders and down her arm, one side at a time, until she could pull it from beneath the shirt. She put that on the end of the bed too, then put her shirt over the top of it.

She was studying a photo of Emily on his dresser when he came back in, announcing the bathroom was free. Gillian hurried out of his bedroom, self-conscious of the fact his shirt really didn't cover a lot of her up and that she was in his bedroom. When she got back from the bathroom he was already in bed, sitting up, the covers up to his waist, shirtless.

He was shirtless.

She could see the dark hair and his smooth muscular shoulders. She was starting to think this was seriously not a good idea. The overhead light was off and a lamp on beside Cal instead. He didn't particularly look at her as she pushed the door closed, her heart rate starting to rise, and headed around the bed to slip into the other side, on his right. She settled quickly, the sheet and blanket to her chin. "Ready?" Cal asked.

"Yes," she breathed. She sheets smelt like him too. Oh God.

The light went out and she felt Cal settle on the mattress next to her. The room was silent and she was aware of how quickly she was breathing. She shifted slightly, so self-conscious, pressing her face into the pillow; it was the perfect thickness. The mattress was really comfortable too and she could hear Cal breathing steadily. It was so quiet but suddenly it wasn't weird anymore. Gillian relaxed and closed her eyes and felt the tug of sleep start to overwhelm her already. She shifted a little more and felt her foot brush against Cal's leg. She didn't even have the heart to withdraw it. He wasn't even... She trusted him.

"Good night Gill," Cal murmured in the dark.

"Good night Cal," Gillian whispered back. And then she fell asleep.