A/N: For the general setting of the story see the A/N of the prologue. I always imagined Cal and Gillian having a strong bond right from the beginning. So that's what I'm trying to build in this chapter, albeit under different circumstances. I hope it works. Something else happens in this chapter, too, or is announced at least (it is the first of some plot twists I have in mind so be prepared for cliffhangers). ;)

Thank you so much for your support and reviews. It bears repeating.

The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).

- The Calm Before The Storm -

It's like a surgical intervention without a scalpel. The undercover agent, Cal Atherton, is getting under her skin slowly but surely, invading her thoughts at any time. It's been two ½ weeks that Gillian started to treat him, meaning that she serves as cover so that he can call his contact and exchange information. Sometimes she just sits there, listening with half an ear, and sometimes she busies herself with reading a book or solving a crossword puzzle. From what she overheard during the phone calls, she can tell that the operation is not very successful so far. By now, though, her assignment almost has taken a backseat.

During their second encounter, they agreed upon some basic rules.

Don't call me luv.

- But it's completely innocent.

For sure. Just don't.

- Aye. If that's what you want.

Thank you.

- What about darling?

And that's the main point. There are no rules when he is involved although he eventually accepted her wish and only addresses her by name. When it comes to her love life, Gillian Foster is an ordinary woman. She fell in and out of love, had affairs and even a few one-night stands, but this... this is different. Gillian knows by now that she never met him at work before. She would remember by all means. You can't overlook or forget someone like him – someone who exudes such intensity, claims her undivided attention due to his sheer presence whenever they are in the same room, and moreover, focuses his attention solely on her as soon as his phone call is over. It is exciting, bordering on uncomfortable. But at the bottom line, he fascinates her. Plain and simple. That certainly was not supposed to be part of her assignment. However, she can't help it.

During their third encounter, she addressed his talent again. The way he reads people as if they offered every information, every thought they were trying to hide, freely.

How do you do it? How do you read people? I have a vague, scientific idea how it might work, but I have no idea how you actually do it.

- You're curious; I like that.

So tell me.

- Check out the library at work.

A book? What's the title? Did you write it?

- Just check it out. You'll find it.

The next day, she went to the library. Since he hadn't given her a title, she ran a search for authors, starting with Atherton, even if she was aware that it's not his real name. No results came up. Then she tried his first name and found several books. One about the force of gravity, one about data encryption standards, and one about micro expressions, written by a Dr. Cal Lightman. Bingo. That had to be his book. The edition notice included a remark that the book was an intern pre-publication and hadn't been officially published yet. There are only five copies; the book can't be bought, only borrowed from the internal library. That's what she did and whipped through it in no time. It's brilliant. Of course. As brilliant as he is. What else did she expect?

On top of this, she knows his real name now since it's very unlikely that he used an alias for an intern pre-publication. Everything inside those walls is confidential; he doesn't have to be afraid that it endangers one of his undercover operations. At least as long as he doesn't willingly offer the information in the middle of such an operation. As he did with her albeit she brushes aside the thought what it implies for now. However, the name fits. Lightman. The man who wants to enlighten people with his findings. Somehow, she had sensed that there was more to him and was rewarded with the fact that deep down beneath his unpredictable attitude exists a gifted, serious scientist. A highly intelligent mind. Sexy. And as to his first name... Gillian had liked it right from the beginning, had hoped that it is his real name. It makes for a nice echo in her head when she imagines herself say it. Cal.

She is aware that he is attracted to her (and she is attracted to him but unlike him, she tries to hide it the best she can and either she has perfected her pokerface or he has decided not to see it). Just because she is in a relationship doesn't mean that Gillian isn't susceptible to flattery. She likes to flirt but tries to keep it within appropriate limits. Therefore, she flirts back guardedly whenever he flirts shamelessly with her albeit she always makes him stop at some point – usually after he made her blush, something that brings out the smug smile that is one of his trademarks. Aside from his strolling walk, his slouching, and his never ending repertoire of witty, and more often than not caustic, quips. And sometimes, although she wouldn't admit that out loud, sometimes she oversteps her self-made boundaries when she flirts with him. After all, this is an undercover operation. No better excuse to behave a little differently, a little more daringly. Every time she does it, she wonders whether he actually doesn't notice or prefers not to mention it.

During their forth encounter, she told him that she had found and read his book.

That is a very interesting book you wrote. I'm impressed.

- Shouldn't be. Need to rewrite it.

I don't think it needs to be rewritten but if you think so, do it and make it even better. It's an intriguing field of expertise.

- As is yours. Voice expert, huh? Tell me more about it.

Gillian did. He listened and asked several questions. To say he was merely interested would have been an underestimation. He was intrigued and she was under the impression that it was caused in equal shares by her field of expertise and simply by her. A mutual respect for each other's specialty developed that day that mixed with their already existing mutual attraction and built a solid basis in spite of their recent acquaintance. Neither of them brought up that he had blown his cover and revealed his actual identity by telling her about his book. Somehow, it felt right, like something they had needed to get out of the way in defiance of the general scheme of things. As if there was a parallel plan for them that has nothing to do with their assignment.

It is their fifth encounter, therapy session, whatever name suits their undercover meetings. This time his phone call was extremely short and he doesn't look happy at all. When it is finished, Cal slouches on the chair in front of her desk. Gillian puts her book down. By now, they have fallen into some kind of routine. The phone call is work, and after it is finished, it feels as if they share free time together, getting more and more used to one another, until the guard knocks at the door.

"Things don't work well?" Gillian has no idea whether she is allowed to ask or not, but he is the pro here. So she will let him decide whether he is allowed to answer her or not although he probably will do what he wants either way.

"Nah. They don't," he confirms exhausted, reminding her of the fact that he is locked up here, having to keep up the facade all the time. No wonder he is exhausted. Especially if things don't work well, protracting his stay.

"How do you do it?" Gillian asks softly. "Pretending to be someone else all the time with only these short breaks. I could never do that." She gives a laugh. "I'm a bad liar."

He studies her until she has to suppress the urge to shift around on her chair. "Dunno if you could do it," he eventually says. "But I think you were a good liar if you had to. Always depends on the lie. At the end of the day, we're all liars. Even the good girls."

She is not sure whether he just complimented or insulted her, and if yes, which was which. Was calling her a good girl a compliment in his book or does he prefer liars because they are more daring, more fun, and he sees through them, anyway? Or perhaps it was just a statement and she reads too much into it.

"Cal...," her voice trails off.

Up to this point, Gillian avoided to address him by name ever since she got to know his real name. Whereas he calls her Dr. Foster, she neither wants to call him Mr. Atherton since it feels odd at this stage, nor does she want to call him Dr. Lightman because even if she knows his real name, saying it out loud in here would be just wrong, as if asking for a blow of fate. Gillian hadn't meant to call him by his first name, but she has been hearing the sound of it in her head so many times lately that it came out by itself.

"It's ok. Cal it is," he says with a sincerity that relegates his usual cockiness to second place.

The situation suddenly feels strangely intimate – calling him by his first name, addressing his situation for the first time, scratching at the surface of what they do – namely telling each other more and getting closer than they should given the situation. She clears her throat.

"Then please call me Gillian," she is a little out of breath as if she just stopped running. Is it the right thing to do? Many people call her by her first name. Colleagues. Neighbors. It doesn't necessarily mean intimacy or closeness, but here and now it feels like it does.

"Why did you..." Blow your cover to let me know who you are? She doesn't finish the question, rephrases instead, "Let me find your book?" Let me know your actual name?

"Guess I wanted you to know." A brief pause. He looks down and then up again, making eye contact. "Guess I trust you. In a situation like this you need someone you can trust or you'll go bonkers."

Now, this definitely is a compliment. One she didn't expect. Gillian swallows. One thing is bothering her though.

"So you're not afraid that your assignment or your honesty puts someone else in danger?" She refers to his family and he gets it. Even if he trusts her and she won't tell anybody, you can never know. Sometimes prison walls have ears.

"They don't live here. They're... in another continent." It's the truth. She heard the slight change in his tone when he first considered to lie about their whereabouts and then decided last-minute to tell the truth, albeit vague enough to implicate no risk. "Divorced. One daughter." He doesn't tell Gillian their names and she understands. She wouldn't want to say names of her family or friends out loud inside these prison walls either.

"What about you?" Cal asks. "What about Mr. Engagement Ring? When are you going to marry?"

Gillian can't hold it against him. She opened the door for a more private conversation and he simply takes the opportunity.

"Next year." She is aware that she sounds evasive. Can't tell him an exact date because there is none. Won't be, considering the path her relationship has taken recently.

It's a good thing that Cal is no voice expert. On the other hand, he probably already read her and knows. What he doesn't know, though, is that it isn't helping her inner turmoil that she lets herself be intrigued by another man, him. It's only a temporary setting. That's what she tells herself whenever her thoughts develop a life of their own, thinking about Cal when she is in her office or even when she is with Alec. It's just a distraction and will be over soon. Cal was right. Even good girls are able to lie, if only to themselves. Then again, her relationship with Alec is on the rocks and beyond for reasons that have nothing to do with Cal. The mere notion causes her stomachache. Gillian's thoughts drift back to the evening after she met Cal Atherton, or rather Lightman as she knows now, for the first time

It was late when she came home but not that late that she expected Alec to already be home, too, after his important soiree she had missed because of work. Gillian was tired after the long drive back from prison. Therefore, she didn't bother with having a late snack although she was hungry and just went upstairs in the dark. When she opened the door to the bedroom, she flinched and almost screamed because there was a huge shadow in bed. It was Alec, woken up by her quiet, yet familiar, sounds of coming home.

"Gilly?" he asked sleepily and suddenly the urge to be near him, feel safe in his arms, and forget about the entire undercover thing, was overwhelming.

She slipped off her coat and shoes and crawled into bed. He was warm, his body against hers a welcome diversion for her overwrought senses when he pulled her toward him.

"I hate it when we fight."

Alec kissed her before she could respond and another time after that, more intense this time. It briefly crossed her mind that maybe he didn't hate it that much when they fought because their make up sex was always great. As expected, his hands slipped under her shirt and pulled the zipper of her skirt down. She was happy to participate, though, needed the day to end with another memory than the prison gate closing behind her.

For that reason and in the heat of the moment, Gillian didn't notice that, even if she tasted the alcohol, Alec was a little too agitated to only be drunk. Despite just having woken up, he appeared to be highly alert, hyped even. The sex wasn't just their usual make up style either. It was better. Alec was different, showed more ingenuity than usual, and she liked it, of course, how could she not. At the same time, though, it caused a premonitory humming deep inside of her. Afterward, when he lay next to her snoring, she realized where that humming had come from, remembered something. They had made love like this before. Once. Years ago. A similar situation like this save that he had been the one to come home late after a party with his colleagues that had gotten out of control and had misled him to take drugs. Alec had confessed the drug abuse; Gillian had threatened to leave him. In the end, she had stayed because of his sincere regret and apology that it would never happen again. As far as she could tell, he had been keeping his promise. Until now. Lying there, staring into the darkness, Gillian wondered whether other recent occasions when Alec had behaved strangely might have been caused by the same reason or not. Perhaps she had only been too blind to see it or hadn't wanted to see it, given their already strained relationship.

The next morning, she confronted him with her suspicion that had manifested itself as a conviction by that time. To her surprise, though, Alec denied everything. And Gillian was even more surprised when her automatic voice analysis came up with an inconclusive result. She couldn't tell whether he was lying or not – a typical occurrence when trying to analyze people close to oneself.

"That bad, huh?" Cal states, watching her facial expression.

"That's none...," she starts impulsively.

"...of my business," he interrupts her, ending her sentence. "You're right. It isn't."

And there it is again – his unusual, serious behavior that lets her last defensive wall crumble. Gillian wants to talk about her problems even if she can't. Won't. At least not in detail. It's simply inappropriate in her book to talk about it with another man. Especially one she is attracted to.

"I just...," Gillian starts, sighing. "It's complicated." Even if her statement is very vague, it is also the first time that she more or less admits something is wrong with her relationship. And that feels good, relieving.

"Complicated is good," Cal says with a smile that is meant to cheer her up.

"Not that kind of complicated."

Gillian remembers another occurrence when Alec came home late a couple of days ago. Another time, she was convinced that he had taken drugs. But another time, he vehemently denied it and blamed his overtime and irregular working hours for his odd behavior instead. He wasn't hyped that time, rather the contrary. He was extremely grumpy, bordering on aggressive, a character trait that was completely uncommon for him and unfortunately matched the symptoms of withdrawal. Although Gillian still wasn't able to read his voice, the mere facts told her that something was wrong with him and that it was getting worse gradually.

Her attempt at clearing up the situation failed again. He denied; she accused, and in the end, he fled to come back in the middle of the night and slept on the couch downstairs. The next day, Alec behaved perfectly normal if you ignored the nervous snuffling that had become his new trademark.

Since that day, Gillian knows that her relationship is about to end. She isn't certain whether she would have given him another chance after his relapse or not, but she is certain that she won't be able to do it under the present circumstances when he insists on denying the obvious. These days, Gillian dreads to go home. She is aware that the talk is unavoidable, but somehow Alec always manages to come home so late that she already is asleep so that they barely see each other, let alone have time to talk. It makes her wonder what excuse he will come up with to avoid her at the weekend. At the same time, Gillian is thankful for every other day. Her work life has to get back to normalcy before she tears her private life apart. In spite of her calm and composed facade, Gillian is very emotional and fears that she won't have enough strength to follow through with her assignment otherwise.

Cal didn't respond to her last statement, just let her walk down memory lane. When she cuts the surface of reality and notices the look in his eyes, it feels as if he is looking right into her soul.

"Don't do that," she tells him. "Don't read me all the time."

"Sorry, luv. Wish I could help you, but there's not much I can do as long as I'm in here."

This time, Gillian doesn't reprimand him for using his favorite term of endearment. Actually, it felt comforting. And he offered her help. Like a friend. Is that what they are for each other now – friends?

"Thank you." She nods appreciatively and then changes the subject because there is no more personal information she wants to share currently, "So... Any clue what will happen next? Since the operation seems to be kind of stuck." Gillian refers to the lack of success of their assignment so far.

Cal's sharp features darken. "Got new orders. Clearance of Level Three."

Level Three. The way he emphasized it sounded threatening. Cal looks sad, almost angry. He doesn't like the turn the events are about to take. Not at all.

"You don't like what is about to happen," she voices her thoughts.

"Don't have to like what I have to do. Just have to do it."

He mentioned it so casually as if she knows what Level Three means, as if they talked about things like that every day. Of course, she does not. Gillian is certain that he overstepped the mark. She isn't supposed to know, but he looks so devastated and was so kind to her before that she has to ask. By instinct, she rightly assumes that he will only tell her if she asks.

"What is it that you have to do?"

Pain. It's in his eyes and in his voice when he tells her.

Level One means that an undercover agent is put in a position in which he or she simply has to observe and report. No active intervention, low risk. Level Two requires interaction with the target to gather information or influence the target to make certain decisions or do certain things. Medium Risk.

Cal's assignment started at Level Two. The plan was to gather information from another inmate so that the son of the criminal mastermind of a terrorist organization can be arrested. They don't have enough material to arrest the mastermind and won't get it quick enough after their original undercover agent was killed. The fallback plan is to blackmail the criminal mastermind, to offer his son a free pass regarding the charges against him in exchange for preventing a planned attack. The problem being that they still have no results and don't know the exact date of the planned attack. They only know that it was planned to be executed four to six weeks after the original undercover agent was killed.

Therefore, time is of essence. To get the selected inmate to volunteer the needed information, though, time is also substantial. They had hoped that two weeks would be sufficient to gain the inmate's trust and get him to talk to Cal, but it didn't work out. The criminal mastermind is powerful, even here in prison, and the inmate doesn't trust Cal enough yet. Talking to the wrong person gets people killed. That's why the operation was raised to Level Three. You could call it a confidence-building measure of the worst kind.

It means that Cal either has to kill another prisoner to gain the inmate's trust or to deliver advantageous information to the inmate that gets someone outside killed. There is always information floating around in prisons that can be used to do either of it. The other inmate, Donny, won't trust someone else unless that line is crossed. He has a flourishing drug business inside and outside these concrete walls. There is no one in here who poses a risk for him at the moment. They all have been taken care of already. From another inmate Cal has in his pockets, he received the information, though, that someone on the streets is trying to get into Donny's business. Most likely unwittingly. A rookie. A white-collar guy who got addicted so fast that he doesn't see another option to finance his addiction, ignoring the dangers it implies to invade the territory of another dealer because he is constantly on drugs or suffering too much from withdrawal to care. It is not the first time something like that happens. Those rookies always end up dead sooner or later. Donny will find out who that guy is in a couple of days, anyway. Cal giving the guy's name to Donny is merely a courtesy to speed things up so that Donny can get rid of the inconvenience without further ado.

"One life for many lives," Cal ends. "Doesn't make it better."

Gillian barely listens anymore, though. It's not possible. This would be such a cruel twist of fate. On the other hand... How much does it cost to finance an addiction? Would Alec's salary be enough? Probably not. The many times he came home late recently (or even not at all). She always assumed it was because he had to buy and take drugs but selling them? No, it simply can't be true.

"Imagine that," Cal is talking to himself so caught up in his thoughts that he for once doesn't notice Gillian's reaction. "One day you're a guy with a good job, with money. And the next you're addicted, broke, and as good as dead. Never trust a policy advisor."

His last words push Gillian over the edge. It has to be Alec and no matter what problems he has, no matter that she is about to leave him, she can't let this happen. Gillian hasn't even noticed that she stood up behind her desk until Cal looks at her surprised.

"What is it?"

His words are interrupted by the usual knock at the door. Time for him to go back to his cell.

She opens her mouth, but the words won't come out. Only when Cal reaches out and touches her arm, she realizes that she is shaking.

"Are you not feeling well?" He looks at her concerned.

There is another knock at the door.

"One moment please," Gillian hardly recognizes her own voice, starts to walk around the desk to approach Cal but stops half way. Suddenly, he has turned into the dangerous man he appeared to be when she saw him the for first time. A man who decides whether someone lives or dies.

"You have to tell me who it is. Give me the name," she whispers.

The door opens and the guard steps inside.

"Sorry, Dr. Foster. I have to take Atherton back to his cell."

"Can I talk to him a few more minutes? We are at a breaking point in his therapy." Gillian makes a desperate attempt to stall the guard, hoping he doesn't notice the awkward situation. But the guard doesn't budge.

"We have strict regulations, Dr. Foster. I've already allowed you the maximum of five additional minutes. Sorry."

Cal had let go of her arm before the guard entered. Albeit she can tell through the haze of her racing thoughts that he is reluctant to leave, he stands up, staying in character of the obedient inmate. He has to.

"The name?" she asks again, talking to Cal now, trying to keep her voice steady as best as she can.

Cal glimpses at her. Unlike him, she can't read micro expressions. Nevertheless, she sees the confusion and sadness on his face because he doesn't attempt to hide it, most likely for her benefit so that she knows he would tell her if there was a way. Most likely he guessed the reason for her strange behavior, at least sensu lato. Then he turns around and walks out, following the guard. Of course, he can't give her the name in front of the guard. On a rational basis, Gillian knows that. Emotionally, the rug under her feet just has been pulled out.

After the door has closed behind the two men, she stands there, frozen on the spot, unable to move. Gillian wants to shout and scream, doesn't know what is more terrifying – the idea that she actually considers her fiancé could deal drugs or that he could be dead soon. Either way, she still can't move, doesn't want to, because the moment she does, it becomes real and what will she do then?

- To be continued -

Hope Cal and Gillian getting closer didn't feel rushed and you liked the twist at the end. ;)

One question: So far, I wrote the story from Gillian's point of view, and given the situation, I think the next chapter will also be written from her POV. Would you generally prefer chapters from Cal's POV, too?

I can't decide. Therefore, your opinion is welcome. :)