Gillian waited for Owen to climb into his car seat, then once he was settled she leaned in to clip his seatbelt into place for him. "We made play dough today," he told her conversationally, blue eyes bright.

"What did you make with it?"

"Horse and person."

"Neat," Gillian responded with a smile. She pushed his door closed carefully and went around to the driver's side. When she got back in he was still talking, giving her details she hadn't heard, which made Gillian smile. It was so nice hearing him talk. Lewis was sometimes entirely too quiet, too much like his father. It was worse when he was little and playing catch up. They headed out to Maryland to get Lewis from school. When he moved to his new school next year he'd be getting the bus. Concord Hill School only went to the third grade. Lewis was already enrolled at Georgetown Day School.

Gillian parked and went around the car to retrieve Owen. He was allowed to unclip his restraints, which was easy enough to do by pressing the button, but had to wait for an adult to open the door for him. She took his hand and walked with him to the designated place where Lewis knew someone would be to pick him up. There were other mothers waiting too, gossiping about someone or something. Gillian didn't particularly care for that but it was nice to have a network of familiar faces when she was obliged to attend school events, and sometimes it was smart to have a network that kept her informed of school news. The unofficial stuff. When Lewis was being picked on by that boy, it was the parent's who gave Gillian more information about who it was and what class he was in than her son did. Apparently, the kid was notorious and so were his parents. The family had moved out of the area but there was a rumour they had been asked to leave the school. Some of the women had children Owen's age or older and he played with them on the grass while the parents waited.

The bell rang and little bodies started to pour out. Attention was turned to children with backpacks and bright eyes. Lewis rushed up to Gillian and she felt her heart lighten to see him; her first born. Sometimes it struck her when she wasn't expecting it, that she was a mother. "Hi Mum," Lewis slowed to get the signs in before he reached her and wrapped his arms around her hips.

"Did you have a good day?" She asked and signed, then brushed his hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut. Lewis nodded, looking up at her. "That's good."

"Did you have a nice day?" He asked politely.

"Yes," Gillian gave him a smile. "Grab your brother and let's go." She used 'get', 'brother' and 'leave'.

Lewis turned and went over to Owen, tapping him on the shoulder. Owen looked up surprised, then stood to hug his brother. Gillian watched them talking, signing and smiling. Her heart fluttered again. So cute. Both of them. Lewis, taller now, with his dark hair and pale eyes and Owen, blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Both of them had freckles but they were only observable up close; this far away Gillian' couldn't see them but she knew they were there. She had spent hours upon hours studying their little faces. Lewis approached where she was waiting, with Owen in hand and Gillian let them get ahead of her as they headed to the car again.

As soon as she got through the door, the boys rushing ahead of her to get to the kitchen first for snacks, Gillian's phone started to ring. She had to dig through her handbag to find the device. The name on the screen was Ria. "Hi," Gillian answered pleasantly and the other woman launched in immediately.

"Talk to him. He's being a complete jerk!"

"Who?" Gillian cut in, shocked.

"Your husband. He won't help me at all. Keeps telling me there's nothing he can do. Which is just a crock of shit. He could do more I know that. I've seen him do more for other people and it's just that it's me isn't it? It's because I'm not a paying client."

"Wait what?" Gillian asked, still surprised and confused now as well. She stood in the middle of her hallway. "Slow down and tell me again."

PJ

"Oh hello," Cal greeted dryly as Gillian came into his office, herding the boys in front of her. They greeted him brightly and gave him hugs but Gillian did not look entirely happy to be there. "I just had a call from Ria."

"Oh," Cal responded, feeling a little pang of disappointment, despite suspecting he would be hearing from his wife soon in one way or another. The boys had gone to the couch and were unpacking containers of food. They had obviously been pre-instructed. He indicated with a jerk of his head that he and Gillian should go into the study. He pulled the sliding door mostly closed for privacy, but open enough to keep an ear on their kids. "What did she say?" He asked warily.

"That you were being purposefully difficult," Gillian answered tightly. She was obviously agitated.

"All right, before you start..."

"No let me go first," Gillian raised a hand and put it against his chest, almost sighing. Her voice lost so of its harshness. "I'm on your side. I came in to talk to Ria because she seemed incredibly upset."

Cal opened his mouth surprised and closed it again. "Thought you'd be in to tell me off."

"For the record, I'm on your side. But I would like to hear your side of the story before I tell you off for being an idiot."

Cal sighed and stepped away, pacing, turning back towards her and approaching again. "A friend of Karl's from the state department called her with information about his death."

Gillian raised an eyebrow surprised.

"You know how they hushed it all up."

Gillian nodded that she understood. Officially Karl Dupree had died in service of his country. More likely, he died in service of someone else's. There had been a shooting involving a foreign national and no one had really known what had happened. Gillian had even made a few phone calls to old friends of hers and Alec's to see if they knew anything and might do her a favour, even now. But she'd received polite 'I don't know anything's' and got nowhere. This had been just after the funeral. It had been several weeks since then. Ria was still grieving.

"This friend reckoned there was more to the story. He had heard things. He wasn't there at the time but he knew someone who was, who had talked to him and he'd squeezed into a debrief, or somethin'. He told her the shoot might not have been as straightforward as she was lead to believe, for the interest of national security."

Gillian reached out to grab his wrist, pulling him to a standstill. "Friendly fire?"

"No, some otha foreign national shootin' at the guy he was doin' security for."

"Why is that a big secret?"

"I guess it depends on who the foreign national with a gun was," Cal noted.

Gillian's chin came up a little, which could have been pride, but Cal knew was resignation. "I see," she said. Cal stood and waited. So was he in trouble with his wife? "And so Ria can't get anymore answers from the Secret Service and how do you fit in?"

"She thinks I have contacts or fava's that I won't cash in on."

While it was true Cal did cultivate relationships with various government departments, the Secret Service was not a door he had a foot in.

"Nor will I go down there and needlessly shake some people down."

"Hm," Gillian noted.

"You know?" Cal asked because for some reason he wanted to know his wife wasn't mad at him over this. Not this of all things. Other things, yeah, he probably deserved, but... Gillian was close to Ria at the moment, helping her deal with her husband's death and she would be pissed off with him if he wasn't understanding and helpful to his employee.

Gillian nodded and gave his hand a shake. "Don't take it personally."

"I didn't. Until she narked," he pouted.

"Is that why you're hiding in your office?"

"Yes."

Gillian smiled. "I'll talk to her. Explain... Try to get her to... Calm down." She paused, thinking things through, a little thoughtful frown forming. "Can you keep an eye on the boys?"

"Easy trade off," Cal responded, giving her a quick kiss. He pushed the sliding door back and found the boys on the couch, eating cut up pieces of fruit from their plastic containers. Lewis offered another to Owen, who took orange wordlessly. Such good boys. Such a good mother. Ria would probably listen to Gillian.