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

Lots of dialogue here, at least by my standards, but I loved when Cal and Gillian actually worked together on the show to solve a case and this chapter was an opportunity to allow that some room here.

Thank you to everyone who is interested in this story and reading it. Your review makes me even happier and is very appreciated.

The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).

- Someone Has To Pay The Price -

Cal hates to feel helpless. He is used to handle things his way, considers rules a recommendation rather than mandatory. But in this special case – trying to find out who the man is that approached Gillian in his front yard, and moreover, what he wants – he is stuck. Cal tried to remember who, for all the world, he could have offended so much that he or she (whoever is behind it, perhaps it's not only the man who talked to Gillian) is looking for revenge after all this time. He even called old contacts. However, he has come up with empty hands so far. Albeit it's only been two days that the incident took place, the changes are already there. Cal is attentive the entire time. Someone walking behind him on the sidewalk, another car possibly following him, shadows lurking in the dark – he is always prepared. The worst is that he can't be with Gillian around the clock even if there is no indication that the threat includes her as well. Cal doesn't intend to tempt fate though. Better safe than sorry. He has to take care of whatever this is.

Even so, life goes on while Cal is waiting for the one or other contact to call him back, hoping to receive helpful information, and beyond that, for Gillian to come over. It's Saturday. For once, she agreed to bring enough clothes so that she doesn't have to go back to her apartment in between and can stay with him until she has to go to work on Monday. It will be their first weekend together. Well, Saturday evening and Sunday that is. Gillian insisted that she had to get things done before she comes over although Cal suspects that she simply wants to let time lapse away in order to slow down their whirlwind romance.

He remembers that he didn't clear his letter-box as yet today and walks out, walking into her. "Hey, darling," Cal greets Gillian happily, watching her eyes light up. "Perfect timing." In fact, any time she would have arrived would have been perfect from his point of view. She is here; the longing ends. Or begins – depending on what he is longing for. Little moments like this make Cal realize how hard and fast he has fallen for her.

Gillian doesn't want help with the rather huge bag (How many clothes does a woman need for one weekend?) and Cal takes the hint that she wants to put her clothes away alone, without him looking over her shoulder and watching every move. He told her that he cleared out half of his wardrobe and that she should feel free to fill the space as she pleases. Albeit they both somehow play it down, this is the next step. She is not moving in, but bringing some of her clothes feels bloody similar. Cal loves the feeling. At the same time, he is well aware that Gillian is not the kind of woman to move in with her new lover after one week. The fact that she is making this compromise, bringing enough clothes to spend the weekend, tells him that he is not the only one who is up to his neck in whatever this is between them.

He is about to throw his mail on the table in passing when he notices one envelope without a sender. Cal looks closely at it and feels a little item inside. Judging from its shape, it's a USB flash drive. Hearing Gillian putting her clothes away upstairs, he opens the envelope and shakes it until the item falls out. His assumption was right; it is a pen drive. There is no note attached whatsoever. Then again, an anonymous pen drive and a man without a name in his front yard seem to be a good match. Therefore, he doesn't worry about touching it. The man wore gloves; there will be no fingerprints on the pen drive either. For a brief moment, Cal thinks about putting the pen drive away, delaying to check what information is saved on it until Monday morning after Gillian will have gone to work or at least until tonight when she will be asleep. Both feels like deceiving her though. Considering what they went through, it's neither appropriate nor necessary. Besides, time could be a crucial factor and he doesn't want to risk anything.

Cal gets his personal laptop (just in case there is some virus on the pen drive; he doesn't want to crash the laptop he uses for his job even if his instinct tells him that there is no digital threat – this is about a real threat of flesh and blood). There is only one file on the pen drive, waiting for him to open it. No one bothered to rename it. The file's name is untitled; there is no hint as to what might be its content. He clicks on it. It's an audio file, no video footage. A male voice he doesn't recognize starts to speak.

Hey, Lightman! It's been a while. I wouldn't have thought that we ever meet again because I was told that you are dead. Imagine my surprise to find out you're not. You might not remember me; let me help you refresh your memory. Poker game. Glasgow. About twenty years ago. You won a lot of money. My money. Turns out that you didn't play fair. Things happened. I am disappointed. Very disappointed. That's not how you treat your fellows. But you can make amends. For everything. In fact, I expect you to. Maybe you already have an idea how. If not, I'd be glad to offer you my suggestion although I'm not sure you'll like it. I'll be in touch; you won't have to wait long. For sure not another twenty years. There is a pause, followed by brief, sardonic laughter, and then the file ends.

Cal was so caught up in listening that he didn't notice Gillian coming downstairs. She froze in the middle of the movement when she heard the man's words, standing at the foot of the stairs. When Cal hears her take a deep breath, he turns around. Gillian is so deathly pale that he fears she is going to faint.

"Gill... Are you OK?" Cal approaches her quickly, but she has already woken up from her frozen state and comes his way.

"Play it again," Gillian says and Cal understands. He is the expert in reading micro expressions, but there is no face to read here. There is only a voice. No one better professionally qualified to read it than her. Even if what she heard unsettled her deeply

Cal clicks on the file again and lets her listen without any interruption whereas he tries to make out sounds other than the voice – background noises, an echo, anything that could give them a hint where the file was recorded. There is nothing though.

"Did you recognize the voice?" Gillian asks him when the man's voice breaks off.

"No." Cal shakes his head.

"And what he said? Did it ring a bell?"

Cal frowns. "I remember a poker game in Glasgow. Probably was about twenty years ago. But it was just that. A poker game. Nothing happened that could justify such a reaction."

"But you won?"

He hesitates. "Yes."

"What?" His hesitation wasn't a micro expression. It was easy for her to read. Cal remembered something. Something that worries him.

"I already knew how to read people back then. Not like today, but a bit, and I used it."

She sighs. "You didn't play fair," Gillian quotes the man who threatened Cal. So he somehow must have found out. "Did you know who it was you won the money from? Do you remember his name?"

He hesitates again.

"Cal...," Gillian is slightly annoyed. "Now is not the time to worry if I might pass judgement on you because of something that happened a long time ago in your past. I can't promise you that I won't, but you need to tell the truth, anyway."

Cal nods, smiling through gritted teeth. "Don't remember his name. Hadn't seen that guy before." He pauses for a moment. "Look, the thing is I only participated in the game to win the money back from him for a friend who had lost it to him the previous day. It was his money for college. He needed it. About 30.000 £, I guess. That's 50.000 $."

"A lot of money," Gillian states. Then her expression softens. "But why should I think badly of you because of that?"

"You said it yourself. I didn't play fair. Had a secret agenda."

"But you did it for a good cause and you weren't a scientist back then. You were just a boy with an exceptional talent."

He smirks. "Aye. Wish I were. Talented that is. But I'm not a natural. It's all science and hard work."

Gillian smiles back at him. Cal is such a sparkler that she tends to forget that his field of expertise is, indeed, the result of years of hard work.

"So maybe it is about the money," Cal muses. "He thought I was dead and now that he knows I'm not, he wants it back."

In view of his words, Gillian's expression gets serious again. She breaks eye contact. "It's not about the money," she says quietly. "Things happened. You can make amends. For everything," she quotes more of what she heard. "This is personal, Cal. I...," her voice trails off and she straightens herself. "Something else happened. That's what this is about. I am not even sure if all he wants is to scare and hurt you." She is sure that this is not all the man wants, but the mere imagination of what she heard between the lines makes her feel sick and is too horrible to say the words out loud. He wants you dead. That's why she was so unsettled and pale when she listened to the recording for the first time. There was no way she could have overheard the hate and disgust in the man's voice that went way beyond anger. Gillian can't hide the fear on her face, bordering on panic, and Cal understands. He already thought so, too. Her estimation just confirms it, destroying his last hope that he could make the threat go away by simply taking some hits and paying the man off.

"Hey..." he touches her arm reassuringly. "The good thing is that now that we know what this is about, I can find out who that man is."

The moment he touched her, Gillian teared up, trying to compose herself. Due to the latest turn of events, Cal almost forgot that it's only been about 1 ½ weeks that he and Gillian fought for their lives in prison. The bruises on her body might have healed; the scars on her soul are for sure still there. The realization that he is the reason for more pain in her life weighs heavily on him.

"Maybe your friend can help?" Gillian interrupts Cal's train of thoughts. Albeit she is shaken, the determination on her face doesn't surprise him. He already got to know her ability to pull herself together during a difficult situation.

"Yeah, maybe," he agrees, but she hears the doubt in his voice. "Actually, I'm waiting for him to call me back." He forces a smile, aware that she heard his uncertainty.

Now what does that mean? As much as Gillian needs Cal to be honest with her, right now, she would be thankful for some answers, doesn't need more secrets to be revealed that will inevitably lead to more questions. However, ignoring things won't help.

"Do you think your friend spread the rumor that you are dead to protect you?" she asks.

"Don't know." There is more. She lets him take his time to tell her. "We haven't talked for a while. For twenty years, actually."

Judging by the tone of his voice, that definitely is another secret. Gillian says nothing, just looks at Cal, her face an invitation to tell her everything. His hand that is still resting on her arm, as she notices only now, drops to her hand and briefly squeezes it, holding on to it. It's his way to thank her for being there for him.

"Terry, that's my friend's name. He lost the money playing poker another time only a week after I had won it back for him. Then he wanted me to win it back again."

"But you didn't do it."

"No. We lost contact after that, and a couple of weeks later, I left to study here. Never heard of him again."

"And still he probably lied to protect you," Gillian voices his thoughts. The sadness on Cal's face breaks her heart. "You must have been important to him, no matter what happened." And he must have been important to Cal, obviously still is after all this time. Otherwise Cal wouldn't be that sad. They haven't reached the stage of their relationship yet in which you introduce the other to your friends. Gillian assumes that Cal doesn't have many friends but that the ones he has will be close and loyal. Like hers. She wants to hear the story how he and Terry became friends one day. For now, it has to wait.

It occurs to Gillian that she noticed things listening to the recording that she hasn't told Cal about. "It's not the voice of the man who approached me in your front yard," she tells him. "But when I listened to the recording, I noticed two things. They have a very similar speech pattern. Something you often witness with siblings, at least when they have grown up together and see each other on a regular basis as adults. And they have the same accent. I almost didn't notice it. But since he mentioned Glasgow, I think it could be Scottish. As if they have been living here or are used to speak American English so that they are able to hide their original accent."

Cal listens interested. "Two men then," he sums up. "Probably related. One of them, the man on the recording, played poker with me twenty years ago in Glasgow. But why didn't they collar me back then? I was there for a while after I'd won the money. It makes no sense."

Gillian thinks about it.

"The queen," she reasons. "It's personal. Much more for the man on the recording than for the other man. Maybe whatever makes it personal only happened after you already had left the country. That would fit in with our assumption that your friend told him you're dead to make him give up his plans for revenge. Complicated to prove that wrong with you being gone. And maybe what happened is about a woman." She looks at him. "Any idea? Was a woman at the poker game? Did you not only win his money but also his girlfriend?" Gillian laughs nervously. They are talking about something that happened years ago. Nevertheless it stings her to think about Cal being with another woman.

Cal gives thought to the idea but comes up with nothing. "No. There was no woman present that night and I was too busy getting ready for my departure during the following weeks to spend my time with women."

Gillian raises her eyebrows.

"It was an exception, yeah," he admits. "But it's true." It is, in fact. His voice says so.

They both fall silent. Albeit they found out some things, the gist of the matter still is a closed book. They are tired and frustrated.

"So will you call it in now?" she asks after a brief pause. "We just listened to proof that there is a serious threat to your life."

There she said it. His life is threatened. Cal notices the way Gillian clenches her fists so fiercely that the skin on her knuckles turns white in order to handle the pain it causes her to face the ugly truth. Nevertheless, he can't argue with that. Gillian is the voice expert. If she heard a death threat, if only between the lines, then it is real.

Unfortunately, it means that he has to break more bad news to her. Cal wishes he wouldn't have to tell her, but Gillian has to know. Even if it is his life that is on the line, he wants it to be her decision whether to call this in or not in light of the consequences. So he tells her what most likely is going to happen – that he will be assigned to an undercover mission in another federal state or even country for several months.

Gillian lets his words sink in, looking as if the weight of the world bore down on her.

"Alec came by to get his furniture this week," she eventually says. It must have taken place on one of the evenings she left early. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to deal with it on my own. Get rid of the legacy, so to speak. I wanted to be ready to move on..." Gillian shoots a glance at him. "...with you. And now..." She straightens herself. "I just don't know."

Now moving on means that Cal won't be there with her.

"I don't have to call it in," he says, withholding that he is, in fact, obligated to report serious threats. "I can handle it on my own."

She laughs bitterly. "It's a threat. Against your life. There is no other option." However, Gillian avoids eye contact and Cal touches her chin with his fingertips so that she raises it, finally looking at him.

"No matter what it means for us?" he asks.

"It does no good not to call it in if it gets you killed," she whispers, tearing up again.

Cal studies her face. The fear and pain are obvious. She doesn't want this, let alone that she doesn't deserve this, but Gillian is convinced that it is the right thing to do. That's what he needed to know. "Okay then. First thing, Monday morning," he agrees reluctantly.

She is confused. "Don't you want to do it now?"

Cal makes a face. "For a start, I'm waiting for some people to call me back." Meaning that whatever they just decided, he still hopes that he somehow will be able to handle things before Monday morning so that he won't have to report it. "And I believe, whoever that guy is, that he wants to have some fun first before he acts on his threat. So another 24..."

"...36...," she corrects him, sensing what he is getting at.

"...36 hours won't make a difference. We had no other plans than staying here, anyway."

Gillian has no idea whether this is actually a reliable conclusion based on his experience or only an effort to stall for time. In the end, her need to spend time with Cal before their world will be turned upside down again gains the upper hand. She forces herself to push every thought regarding the threat and their impending separation to the back of her mind. The next 36 hours might be all they have left for a long time.

"Okay," she breathes.

He takes her in his arms and kisses her. They both feel an urge to be close to each other. Despite the situation, or probably even enhanced by it, there is passion in the way Gillian kisses him back; it is not only about comfort and feeling secure. She gives his shirt a tug, implying that she wants more. Cal is surprised but when he looks into her eyes, he understands. Make me forget about everything. It's written all over her face. How could he deny her that? Her desperation encounters his guilt when they kiss another time and he pretends not to taste her salty tears on his lips as he pulls down the zipper of her dress.

- To be continued -

I'm ready for your bets. Will Cal report the threat or not?

Timeline-wise, there is about one week left until the explosion. Just in case you're wondering.