A/N: For the general setting of the story see the A/N of the prologue.

This is kind of a last minute update since I started to write this chapter only two days ago. Thank you for still being around to read & review. It means a lot to me.

The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).

- The Sins Of The Past -

"You sure it was him? You never saw him in person before."

"Looked at his pic often enough when we were trying to hunt him down."

"It's years ago."

"It was him; I'm sure."

The two men are brothers, but they couldn't be more different. Ian, the younger one who saw Cal, is tall and lanky. A handsome guy with a friendly face. People would never assume that he tortured animals as a child and loves to beat up defaulters. A preference that comes in handy considering what they do for a living. Sean, the older one who is about Cal's age, is compact, always having a grimly determined look on his face. Unlike his younger brother, he doesn't indulge in violence. At least not in violence he has to apply himself. Sean prefers to elaborate ideas carefully, an ability Ian's simple mind lacks the necessary intelligence to conduct. Sean is the head of their alliance and Ian the fist.

Having lost their parents at an early age, Sean took care of Ian in the only way he knew – by inducting him into a career of crime. They worked their way up from petty criminals to some kind of local celebrities. Drugs. Hookers. Illegal gambling. Something of everything. They are no felons, but they get by. In Glasgow that is. Or rather was. For a couple of years now, they have been co-organizing a special poker competition that is the latest thing in the political circles of Washington. Truth really is stranger than fiction. Some years ago, Ian dated an American girl. He has a way with women, mostly due to his looks, and even if Sean always tells him that women mean nothing but trouble if you let them have a go at you, Ian almost married her, went on vacation with her to meet her family. When he came back, he had no girlfriend anymore but had made some valuable contacts in Washington. People who thought that two brothers from Scotland were the perfect poster boys for their newest business idea. Not only economy and politics are global these days. Ever since, they have been spending a couple of weeks per year somewhere around Washington. It's easy money. Their kind of vacation.

Meeting a shadow from their past wasn't part of the plan. Ian remembers what it was like when Sean tried to find Cal back then after that fatal poker game. To this day, he has never seen his brother be so mad at someone again. That is why not telling him that he saw Cal wasn't an option. Sean is his older brother and Ian knows that he loves him, but Sean also believes in hierarchy and rules. Once Ian disobeyed the rules, Sean was very angry. That's why Ian lacks the fingertip of his pinky. He has never disobeyed one of Sean's rules after that.

"So, what are we gonna do now?" Ian asks.

Sean looks even more grim than usual. He is holding a pen in his hand, turning it around and around, staring at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world he has ever seen. Then he suddenly stops, gripping the pen so hard that it breaks in half.

"I'll tell you exactly what we are going to do," Sean says.

Gillian parks her car in front of Cal's house. It was a long day at work. She is tired, but she can't imagine driving home without having seen Cal. It's not quite a week since she stayed overnight for the first time. Considering the short span of time, you can't call it a routine. Yet, she already has gotten used to look forward to the few hours they spend together every day, talking as well as not talking, getting to know each other better either way.

Cal works from home currently, doing research and consulting for other missions. He can't tell her more due to non-disclosure agreements. He doesn't need to though. She of all people knows how it works and is simply happy that he is with her and not God knows where beyond reach and in danger. The doubts if they are rushing things, if it was better to slow down, are always there and are always pushed to the back of her mind the moment she stops the engine and gets out of the car.

As she walks straight up to Cal's front door, a man approaches her. Tall and lean. Gillian stops a couple of steps away from the door when it becomes obvious that the man intends to talk to her. His face doesn't look familiar; she had no reason to memorize it when he bumped into her as Cal and she walked out of the coffee shop after they'd had breakfast together. She relaxes a bit at the sight of his friendly expression – a man who has nothing to hide. That changes, though, when he starts to speak.

"Sorry to bother you. Are you visiting Mr. Lightman?" His voice makes her shiver. It oozes danger despite his handsome appearance. And then this odd question. Mr. Lightman? As if he knew Cal's last name but not about the fact that he has an academic degree as a doctor. Plus, Cal's address is not listed. Something is wrong. This is not one of Cal's friends or neighbors.

"What can I do for you?" Detached politeness, Gillian's best repellent. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Cal in the kitchen, pouring them two glasses of wine. Obviously, he saw her car when she arrived. He is standing with his back to the window, though, didn't see the man approaching her. Otherwise, he would already be out here with her; she knows him as much by now.

"Just say hi to him from an old friend."

"Wouldn't I need a name for that?"

He smiles as if he expected her to say that and holds a card out to her. The queen. Gillian is reluctant to take it but eventually does. There is no use in complicating the tense situation although she has not the slightest idea who the man is and what he wants from Cal.

"Just tell him I'll stop by later when I have plenty of time." Now that is a threat if she ever heard one. Gillian is barely able to suppress the urge to step back and call for Cal.

The man smiles at her, his good looks a distorted caricature of what he actually is - a psychopath. Then he turns around and walks away as Gillian takes the last steps toward Cal's front door, her legs wobbly.

"Tell me again what he looked like."

Gillian told Cal about her eerie encounter with the stranger the moment he opened the door. They dropped the subject in between to talk about other things, but inevitably their conversation always is getting back to it. Even now, approximately two hours later, the spine-tingling feeling is still there; Gillian can't get rid of it. She describes the man again, and again, there is no realization on Cal's face. He doesn't know who it is. Considering his undercover work and the enemies he made in the course of time, it could be anyone. The card is a clue though. Or at least could be.

"What about the card?" Gillian voices both of their thoughts. "What could it mean?"

The man wore gloves when he handed it to her; a check for fingerprints will come up with no results. All they have is the card itself. A silent witness to a secret they are not able to reveal. Gillian can tell that Cal is as frustrated about it as she is, probably even more so because the man's visit was related to him.

Cal shrugs his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. "Don't know. Could mean nothing. Couldn't mean anything. Or it's just a distraction."

Something tells him, though, that it's not simply a distraction. The first thing that came to his mind when he saw the card was that the man's visit has to be related to his former gambling habit. Cal stopped gambling when he started to work undercover, but before that he gambled fairly regularly. On more than one continent. Plenty of occasions to alienate people who lost money to him albeit it seems strange that one of them would approach him after such a long time and in such a mysterious way.

"What?" Gillian addresses his thoughtful expression, prompting Cal to share his thoughts.

"Doesn't change anything," he ends his deliberations. "Still don't know what it means and who it was."

He studies her when she doesn't respond. "Is is bothering you?" he asks. "The gambling?"

Gillian shakes her head. No. "We all have weaknesses. And you said yourself that you don't gamble anymore."

Cal squeezes her hand – thank you – as Gillian straightens herself.

"So, what are we gonna do now? Do you have to call something like that in?" she asks.

"Possible threats? Yeah. But I'm not sure what this is. Maybe it's nothing."

What Cal is not telling Gillian is that the moment he calls in a possible threat, he will most likely get assigned to a mission in another federal state or even country for several months. It's standard procedure. Undercover agents are valuable assets; their exposure has to be avoided. And he can't imagine being separated from her at this point. It's the one thing he wants to avoid at all cost. Therefore, all Cal has been doing since Gillian told him what happened is weighing the pros and cons. Experience and instinct tell him that the man is a threat, but maybe he is lucky and it is just some delusional lunatic who will try to beat him up in a couple of days so that he can handle it and make the threat go away for good. The man didn't try to hurt Gillian. That is most important. If Cal feared for her safety, there would be no other option than alerting his superiors (who don't know about their relationship as yet and won't be excited; intra-departmental relationships are not forbidden but also not well-received).

He should have known that Gillian heard the doubt in his voice.

"It was not nothing, Cal. And you know that. He knew your name and address. And the way he talked was unmistakably threatening."

Cal reaches out and caresses her cheek. "Let's wait for a day or two and see what happens. If there is a real threat behind it, I'll call it in. Just trust me, ok?" He kisses her gently, his words and behavior bordering on being manipulative because of course she trusts him and he uses it to his advantage. However, it works. Gillian relaxes a bit and drops the subject. Cal checks the time. It's late.

"Do you stay the night?" He hopes she will, especially after what happened today.

But Gillian sighs, kissing him fleetingly another time. "I wish I could, but I have an early appointment tomorrow morning and I don't want to get up at dawn to drive home and change clothes. Actually, I should go now."

Cal offered her to bring over some of her clothes. So far she hasn't done it, though, apparently being careful not to rush things for neither of them. She didn't comment on the toothbrush or her favorite shower foam and shampoo that he bought, but she uses it and rewarded him with a smile. The little things. Everything else feels pretty big, anyway.

"Okay," he doesn't try to convince her to stay, never does. Cal is happy when she stays over and accepts it when she doesn't. "Here." He stands up, opens a a drawer and takes out a set of keys. "These are my spare keys. Take them so you don't have to wait for me to open the door the next time a weird guy bothers you in my front yard."

"Cal...," Gillian takes the keys reluctantly, aware that he watches her, studying her reaction. "That's, um, thank you." She is excited and embarrassed at the same time. First her favorite bathroom utensils, now his keys, and she didn't offer him anything in return.

She knows he read her when he gets closer.

"Just being selfish, luv. Would like to have you around as often as possible. Don't want you to think you're a guest. I love it when you're here."

I love it...

Did he emphasize the word just because or because of her field of expertise and because he knows she is able to read more into it? They haven't gone there yet. They are both not the kind of people to throw those three precious words around excessively. It's only been a week and even if you could say that their romance actually started several weeks ago when they met for the first time, it is all still fresh and fragile. However, there is no just because when it comes to Cal, Gillian decides, so...

"And I love being here," she replies. It's the truth. Whatever context you put the word in. You feel what you feel, no matter to what extent you let your senses analyze a situation so as to do and say the right things at the right time.

For a moment, Cal just stands there and looks at Gillian. Then he takes her hand and walks her out. Before he opens the door, he clasps her in his arms and kisses her – once, twice, until she gently pushes him away. Those kisses always make it so hard to leave.

"Don't try to kiss me into staying." She smiles at him.

"Would never try to do such a thing," he claims innocence. "If I tried to persuade you to stay, you'd wear a lot less by now."

It's not only his kisses. Cal's charm makes it difficult to leave, too.

"Are you taking my pulse?" Gillian refers to his hand lingering on her neck right where the carotid artery is. She knows her pulse has quickened, always feels her body respond to his proximity.

"Yes," he admits, his eyes darkening, his pupils dilating.

Cal told Gillian about these signs of sexual arousal and she is now able to recognize them easily although she wouldn't need to. His voice, even if it only was one word, told her everything she needs to know. It made her hold her breath.

Their professional abilities are part of what makes their relationship so special. Watching her face, taking her pulse, listening to his voice – it's also part of their foreplay and makes the sex that usually follows even better. But not tonight.

Gillian rests her forehead against Cal's. "I'm sorry. I really have to go. See you tomorrow."

"Night, luv." He remains standing at the door, watching her until she has gotten in her car safely. Cal always does that, but tonight Gillian can't help noticing that he seems to be more tense the moment she is out of his reach.

"How did it go?" Sean asks.

Ian knew where Cal lives because he followed him after he saw him and Gillian at the coffee shop where they'd had breakfast. For a couple of days, he observed the house and found out that, albeit Cal lives there alone, the woman from the coffee shop is a regular visitor. A visitor that stays overnight more often than not.

"Good. Approached her just as you said and gave her the card."

That will make Cal wonder what this is about. He will probably sense the threat but not know the reason or how to prevent that something happens. Revenge. This is exactly what Sean wants. But not a fast one. He wants it to be slow and painful – as painful as possible, in fact. Lightman's female visitor is a welcome addition to their plan. A twist of fate. The queen. The reason for the revenge is a woman and they will use the woman in Lightman's life to return like for like.

Either way, the outcome will be the same. Cal Lightman has to die.

- To be continued -

So what about the plot line that threatens Cal's life? Interesting? Boring? Let me know. I'm still figuring out the details.