It had been so long since Cal had been in a pub he was actually surprised to find he seemed to have forgotten what they were like. They were noisy and warm and smelt like stale alcohol, and, cigarettes. This bar was modern, floor to ceiling windows that let in the bright evening sunshine of a summer about to break forth. The tables were in black, the chairs a charcoal grey; everything with that twenty-first century 'feel'; snooty, city, clientele. Did Eli really drink here on a regular basis? It seemed more geared towards corporate and Eli in his casual jeans and slightly wrinkled chequered shirt was somewhat outside of those boundaries.

People, mostly suits and professionals, drank and watched each other, or were in groups, clearly an after work crowd, not bothered with what anyone else was doing there. The group Cal was with though, was a mix of the two. Cal was there with Eli and a few of the other guys from the office. Reynolds was coming later, if he could. Eli had organised this. He said they should go out to 'wet the baby's head', a term Cal had no idea how he'd found but liked the idea of. Wetting the baby's head: having a drink in honour of the birth of a baby. Cal's baby, his wee munchkin, his Lewis.

"To the new addition," Eli raised his glass of beer after they had all settled with beverages. Eli had bought the first round. Cal did the same and there were echoes of congratulations amongst their group. Cal gave a nod of appreciation, nudged his 'handle' against the others and drank to his son. His son. Unbelievable.

He wondered if Gillian was all right at home with the baby. He had traded a night out now for the one she would have with her friends after she was allowed to drink again. After Lewis was weaned. A whole year and a bit away. Except, Gillian would go out with her friends, close friends, women who she socialised with regularly. And Cal was here with work colleagues. It seemed a bit backward. When had he become so anti-social? Ok, to be fair, he was anti-social anyway, but all of a sudden it seemed to be so much more prominent.

Cal remembered going out to pubs back home frequently. He'd pull back the pints easily, talking shit and trying to hook up with some cute bird who took a fancy to him. He continued to do a bit of that when he'd moved to America, when pubs had become bars and pints were no longer twenty-four millilitres but sixteen and he'd had to learn beers all over again. That had been good fun. At least for a while. That was how he had wooed Zoe. In a bar. And now he must be an old man because what he really wanted was to actually just go home for some peace and quiet, to be with his current wife and new son. Although, he was pretty sure, push come to shove, that he could drink these light weights under the table.

"Hey Cal!" Reynolds greeted, a big grin on his face, his hand extended. "Congratulations! Healthy baby boy huh?"

Healthy might be a bit of a stretch at this point... but they were trying not to worry about it.

Cal clasped the FBI agent's hand firmly. "Thanks for comin' down. Eli will get you a drink." Seeing as it was his bright idea.

Eli put down is tall boy of lager and took Reynolds up to the bar to buy. The rest of the men in their group had found other people they knew and weren't actually paying any attention to Cal. That was good. He could sit there then and not have to force conversation. He was not a big fan of small talk. Eli and Ben arrived back from the bar. "So how's Gillian doing?" Reynolds asked sipping his beer.

"Good," Cal responded. "Tired, you know."

"Yeah," Ben agreed. "My sisters have a billion kids each. No idea where they have the energy to go running around after all of them."

"Do you see them much?" Eli inquired.

"They're up in North Carolina so I get back when I can," Reynolds turned to him.

Cal's phone started ringing. He shifted in his seat to dig it out of his pocket. Gillian. He suppressed a smile. "I've been gone less than an hour luv."

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your boy's night or whatever you're doing," Gillian sounded facetious.

"Wettin' the baby's head."

"Drinking. Yeah I got it," she shot back. "But can you get diapers on your way home?" Here her tone switched to apologetic pleading.

"Nappies?"

"I was out earlier and I completely forgot to pick up some diapers."

"Sure," Cal agreed. "I can get some nappies."

"Just when you're ready. I'm not saying right now. Lewis will probably hold out until the morning at least. So you could crawl in at one am and be fine," back to teasing.

"Was thinkin' three."

"Are you having fun?"

"So much," Cal responded dryly, lowering his voice just a little. Eli and Ben seemed to be engaged in conversation but Cal couldn't rule out one or both of them overhearing. And he didn't want to offend.

"Aw it's good for you to be social."

"Hm," Cal noted shortly. "I'll finish my drink and head home."

"Just when you're ready ok?"

"I'm ready."

"Cal," her voice seemed a warning.

"Gillian," Cal retorted. "See you soon." And he hung up on her. She hadn't made him come out but he was pretty sure if she had caught wind of him being invited out for a drink with the boys and turning it down she would nag at him to do exactly as she had just said, and be more social. He had agreed to come out for a drink before that argument could take place and because he didn't think it was a big deal but honestly, now that he was there, he realised how much he didn't need it. He didn't need to drink for the sake of it and he didn't need to have some mindless conversation with people he spent most of his day with. It was nice to go home to have a break from work. And it was nice to go to work to have a break from home. It was a nice balance. He liked it that way.

He missed Gillian.

He didn't get to spend his day with her anymore. He had to stop himself from wandering into her office to see if she had two minutes to hear him whinge. Or if she wanted a coffee. Or if there was something he could help her with, professionally or otherwise. He was used to her being pregnant and behind her desk...

"That was Gillian?" Eli asked.

"Yeah. Needs nappies." Cal reached for his drink, took a large mouthful.

"So you're going to leave?" Eli teased. "You really are whipped." He laughed a little but Ben didn't seem amused and neither was Cal.

He put his glass down and eyed Eli up. "Gillian didn't summon me home. I want to go. Cos bein' with her, even if it's just sittin' on the couch, beats bein' in this noisy joint with you lot." He turned to Ben. "No offense."

"None taken," Reynolds responded amused.

"You call it whipped Eli but there is nothin' I wouldn't do for her, of my own accord, whetha she asked or not, which includes runnin' out to get chocolate ice cream at ten o'clock at night."

Eli immediately looked abashed. He knew the story of Mitchell, just like everyone else did.

"You can laugh and joke that I'm unda her thumb but she doesn't control me. She wanted me to stay. I'm the one who wants to go home. It's a single man who thinks drinkin' all night and goin' home to an empty house is a lot of fun. Maybe you'll find a stranga to go with you, who will inevitably leave before you wake up the next mornin', whose name you might not rememba. But I know who I'm goin' home to every night for the rest of my life and it's a relief. I found someone who doesn't try to change who I am, who loves me for my flaws and all, who is my devoted comrade in all the battles with myself."

Had she ever. So many battles he didn't even know he was waging and she had stuck by him for years, guiding him and helping him and loving him. First as a friend, then his best friend, then as his lover, now as his wife. "That's real love Eli. That trumps a drink in the pub with your mates any night." Cal reached for his beer and took another large mouthful.

"Here, here," Reynolds agreed, raising his glass in salute and taking a pull himself. Eli sat quietly. Ben clasped a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Sorry Eli but I'm with Cal on this one. I'd love to have a woman like Gillian at my side. Hell, any woman who stayed long enough..."

Cal finished his beverage and set the empty glass on the coaster in front of him. "Spend less time tearin' otha's down and focus more on yourself," Cal added. "I consida myself lucky to have got Gillian in the first place, to have even met her, and now I would do anythin' to keep her. I'll change every dirty nappy, get up to every feed, if it lightens her load. Hot coals, the works. I'll even talk about my feelin's. That's how it works." Cal got up. "You have to be the best man you can be, othawise no one will have you." He clapped a hand on Eli's shoulder. "Thanks for the beer. Gill was pretty stoked you wanted to hona the birth of our son," he said it genuinely, then he leaned over to shake Reynolds hand in farewell. "Good to see you again. Thanks for comin'."

"Yeah you too," Ben shook. "Give my congratulations to Gillian."

"I will," Cal agreed. He slid out of the booth and headed for the door. He felt light inside, knowing he was going home to see his wife and son. Whipped? Well maybe. But he had never felt this good before. And if he felt good, genuinely good and light and free, with no niggling doubts about mistakes or feeling as though something was missing, something wasn't quite right, like he had noticed but ignored in almost every other relationship, it couldn't be wrong could it? His feelings were his guideline. And Cal had phenomenal instincts.