A/N: For the general setting of the story see the A/N of the prologue.
Thank you for your lovely reviews. I appreciate it so, so much. This also goes for the guest reviewers ChloeTK and CocoGuest (so sweet of you to leave a review for my other story, Done Pretending, too). :)
As to the content, the last part of this chapter is a strong T or even mild M rating-wise, I'd say. And the parts in italics are flashbacks although this should be pretty obvious. Enjoy! ;)
The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).
- Light And Shade -
It is windy, stormy even. Cal should look out for traffic, but his thoughts keep returning to the scene in Hines office earlier today. The irony doesn't slip his attention that the weather matches his frame of mind, as if it was mocking him.
Cal had known something was up when Hines had contacted him and had asked him to come round to his office.
The blank manila envelope looked exactly like the others Hines had given him over the years. A new assignment. If he opened it, he would find all the details in there. The target, the location, his alias, and a fake résumé. He didn't take it. Just sat there, looking down at the envelope that was lying on Hines' desk between them, whispering to him, teasing him. He wanted to open it. So bad. Cal could feel the adrenaline rush already. As much as he likes to be in the field, he likes that phase of an assignment even more. The anticipation. Once the assignment actually starts, a lot of what happens has to happen by instinct. It is the preparation phase that is crucial to survival. Maybe the scientist in him reacts to that. There is no reliable result without meticulously planned parameters. Basically, an undercover assignment is nothing but a long con, and Cal loves long cons.
The wind freshens as Cal stops the car in front of his house. There is a glimmer of light in his living room. Gillian is there.
In retrospect, it feels as if a third person had been living with them, an invisible entity that had kept them apart and moved out after they had cleared things up a couple of days ago. These days, it is like a new beginning, their attempt at a normal life together. They never had that. Their relationship started under unusual circumstances, to put it mildly, and they are still dealing with the aftermath. However, a normal life together seems to be within reach for the first time. Or rather was until Hines called him.
Cal's fingers were twitching, aching to touch the envelope. He tapped at it with one finger but pulled his hand away as if he had burnt himself when he remembered Gillian's smile that morning. He can't have it all. His hand hovered over the envelope. Right before he had pulled it away, he had felt it – the uneven surface of the cover, implying that it contained a whole new life. Documents, passports, maps. A temporary life but still. Living on the edge like that is a challenge like no other. Save that there is no place for Gillian in a life like that. He can't expect her to stay behind and worry herself sick about his fate until he will or will not return safely, or can he?
When Cal enters the living room, he finds Gillian lying on the couch, snuggled up in a blanket. She is reading.
He texted her that he would be late when he went to see Hines so that she wouldn't become anxious. Due to the occurrences, the mutual certainty that they are safe is a necessary component of their life. Something other couples do not waste much thought on. It will cease eventually but nowhere near. They even have a secret code so that they are able to covertly inform the other via text message or phone call that something is wrong. Having experienced more than one life-threatening situation has made them extremely cautious although they both hope that they never will have to use their code. It is the preparation phase that is crucial to survival. Sometimes Cal's undercover job slops out of its hidden place into his normal life. He almost lost her twice as a result of the lockdown in prison and the explosion. There won't be a third time.
It is so late that he expected Gillian to be in bed already, sound asleep. Cal appreciates that she has been waiting for him. It makes coming home so much better, like stepping into a world that solely belongs to the two of them. His living room is illuminated by the dim light of the floor lamp beside the couch so that Gillian is able to read. A small island of soft light whereas the rest of the room is in a peaceful shadow. Soft music is playing in the background. Jazz. Gillian likes it as much as he does. It adds up to the cozy feeling; this is their safe haven. The storm that is tearing at the blinds sounds angry that Cal escaped inside.
Cal takes his jacket off carefully so that the envelope that is in the inside pocket doesn't fall out. Then he briefly kisses Gillian and sits down on the coffee table next to the couch. "Hey, luv."
"Hey." She puts the book down and smiles at him. "Busy day?"
Cal did not take, let alone open, the envelope. He was stalling for time.
"When would it start?"
"In four weeks."
"How long would it take?"
"Three months. At best. Prolongation optional, as long as necessary. You know the drill."
"Full communication ban?"
Sometimes the assignment wasn't that dangerous; there were loopholes to get in contact with your real life in between even if it always posed a risk. Cal knew what he was doing. He was trying to convince himself that it was doable, that he could have both – Gillian and the assignment. Live on the edge when he was out in the field and be a family man when he was at home. Hines answer, though, fixed the loophole.
"Yes."
Meaning there would be no possibility for him to contact Gillian during the undercover assignment, as long as it would take. Weeks. Months. Perhaps even a year. There are no limits time-wise.
Cal knew how it worked, and he knew that he had to make a decision.
The reference to his busy day triggers Cal's bad conscience. Since he didn't expect Gillian to be awake, he didn't think of a plan, though, how to talk to her, and right now, it is so good to be home and with her that he takes the easy way out and decides that talking will be postponed; all he wants to do is feel.
"Yeah," he tentatively answers her question whether he had a busy day because he has to say something, lowering his voice to a whisper so that it will be impossible for her to read him. The fact that Gillian knows he can't tell her anything about his work for security reasons plays into his hands. She won't try to get to the bottom of it if he doesn't offer more information by his own choice.
Cal runs his fingers through Gillian's hair. Her face looks even more beautiful than usual in the dim light. By now, her scent lingers everywhere in his house. He loves it. Cal buries his face in her hair and takes a deep breath.
She giggles to herself as his nose tickles her earlobe. His mind tells him to leave it at that. After a miscarriage, a period of two or three weeks without intercourse is recommended. Considering the complications in her case, the doctor in charge extended that period. They are supposed to wait six weeks. It didn't feel like such an obstacle in the beginning. They were both hurt, physically and emotionally, and had to deal with that first. But since their cathartic talk approximately a week ago, they have gotten closer again each day, and all Cal can think right now is how much he wants her. He kisses her neck tenderly and is rewarded with a throaty hum. His lips find hers another time and – as opposed to their fleeting kiss when he greeted her – this kiss is intense, passionate. Gillian hesitates, then kisses him back but controls herself when she realizes that a kiss is not all he wants.
"Cal." She pushes him away gently. "We can't. Not before another week."
"I know." He runs his fingers through her hair again, holding her gaze. "But that doesn't mean I can't make you feel good."
This time, he wants her to hear it in his voice. Desire. Love. She doesn't respond. At least not with words. Her face and body are a different matter. Dilated pupils. Quick breathing. She wants it, too, but still hesitates. His hand slips to her neck, stroking her lips and jawline with his thumb in the process.
"Let me." His voice is breathy, his body already responding to his imagination that gets ahead of his actions although this is supposed to be about her.
Cal knows that his voice turns her on. Not necessarily the words, albeit he is aware that she has a soft spot for his accent, but the way he says them, because of everything she is able to hear between the lines. He keeps stroking her neck, jawline, and lips until he sees it. The slight change in her eyes. Gillian has perfected the naughtiest look he has ever seen, inserts it now and then when they are having a perfectly normal conversation only to throw him off balance and succeeds every time. It's difficult to catch a glimpse of it. Impossible for most people. Easy for him. He smiles at her. She just gave him permission. Then she picks her book up and continues to read or at least pretends to do so. So this is a challenge. Her book versus his skills. Cal's smile turns into a smirk. He has never been able to resist a challenge.
He knew something like that had been bound to occur sooner or later. Save that he would have preferred later.
Cal remembered his and Gillian's breakfast after their first night together. They had talked about the inconveniences of his job. The danger. The long absences. He had indicated that he would drop out because of her, had meant every word back then. But obviously he had underestimated the pull those assignments exert on him. It should be easier, shouldn't it? Maybe one last assignment to say goodbye to the way he had lived his life before he had met her...
Gillian is wearing a tank top, the lower half of her body snuggled up in a blanket. If he is lucky, she is ready for bed and there is nothing but her panties and soft skin underneath that blanket because that's the way she usually sleeps. No pajama pants for her unless it's freezing outside. Cal approves of it.
Her bent arms hold on to the book. Cal can tell from the look on her face that she enjoys the relaxation and the thrill of anticipation equally. Challenge accepted, he thinks as he caresses her softly. Arms. Neck. Collarbone. The skin at the hem of her top, letting one finger inch underneath the fabric casually just to hear her hold her breath as he expected. Then her arms again, up and down, up and down, his caress almost innocent save that she knows better. When his fingers lightly brush against the side of her breasts, he feels the tension slowly but surely steal its way into her body. If Cal knows one thing about Gillian's body for sure than it is that she is responsive to his touch. Very responsive. As experienced as he is in this special field, Cal is aware that what happens whenever they touch each other is not due to experience. At least not alone. Somehow their bodies contain a secret formula that is only set free whenever they are together that way.
Despite the tension that surrounds her body like an energy field by now, Gillian has the nerve to turn the page. The twitch of the corner of her mouth is revealing. She enjoys this a lot and has a hard time stopping herself from grinning broadly.
Cal brings one of his hands back to her neck. Yes, Gill, taking your pulse again, he silently admits one of his preferences. It's about to quicken. He had other plans initially, plans that included his mouth and tongue as a central part in order to make her feel good, but he scrapped them. Her suppressed grin aroused his need to see her face from close up tonight; he doesn't want to miss a thing. Therefore he remains where he is and lets his other hand wander around, tracing the curves of her upper body, drawing lazy circles on the skin of her abdomen, all the while letting his hand slip closer and closer to the hem of her panties that his hidden underneath the blanket. He is a lucky, lucky man. No pajama pants. She is, indeed, dressed for bed. And the way she tucked up her leg, leaning it against the backrest of the couch, is perfect to all intents and purposes. It feels so good to touch her. A sensual overdose. His fingertips explore the smooth skin of her thighs, brushing her panties only briefly in the process, not enough to create friction; something she must be longing for by now. Cal repeats his actions two or three times before Gillian gives up and puts the book down.
"Not interesting?" he teases.
"Not remotely as interesting as other things," she breathes and pulls him down toward her so that she can kiss him.
Hines was waiting for an answer. The time for stalling tactics was over.
"Not sure I can do this any longer," Cal said.
"Why not? Any specific reasons you'd like to share?" Hines asked.
"Some changes in my personal life," Cal answered although he assumed that Hines already knew that or at least conjectured it, his home visit coming to Cal's mind. A look at Hines' face confirmed his supposition. The next question was predictable; Hines wanted to verify the theory.
"So... You and Dr. Foster?"
"Yeah," Cal admitted. "It sort of happened."
Only when he had said the words out loud, their plain truth dawned on him. Cal had not planned to fall in love with Gillian, and neither had she. It had not happened because but despite. Sort of, so to speak. And now it just was. Is. Immutable. And as much as the prospect of another undercover assignment intrigued him, he couldn't imagine going home and telling Gillian about it, let alone leaving her behind. The choice wasn't easy but clear.
Her kiss is relentless; her hands are all over him. If she could, Gillian would climb on his lap, but Cal keeps pressing her down gently, pushing her hands away that are fumbling for his belt to let him participate in their little game. He was serious when he told her that he wants to make her feel good. There is not more to it than that. When she realizes it, Gillian settles for touching the naked skin of his upper body and upper arms that is within her reach. Somehow she has managed to pull his shirt out of his pants during their struggle. She has a thing for the tattoo that twines itself around his upper arm, loves to touch it, especially when they are having sex. Cal has to ask Dr. Gillian Foster, the psychologist, about that one day.
He breaks their kiss to look at her. Gillian's swollen lips and tousled hair ooze sexiness. He feels her hips move of their own accord when he brushes the fabric of her panties another time, tracing its hem between her legs with two fingers, inching underneath it here and there oh-so-lightly in the course of it before he pulls his hand away again only to repeat his actions. Cal can tell that she is close. He leans forward to bring his ear flush against her mouth so that he misses nothing, no yes, no please, not his whispered name. Gillian's thighs are trembling; he could probably caress her with a feather and it would have the desired effect. A thought he memorizes for future reference. For now, Cal gives Gillian what she is longing for, moving his hand agonizingly slow until it completely disappears underneath the fabric of her panties. The very moment his fingers contact skin right where she needs his touch, Gillian arches her back as she comes undone.
They have devoted their lives as scientists to reading people – their faces as well as their voices. Gillian's expression of sheer pleasure is the most beautiful thing Cal has ever seen. The macro expression is accompanied by so many micro expressions, a myriad of emotions, that he is stunned. He needs to share that moment with Gillian, and there is only one way, the way he always relies on when it comes to her. His lips begin to move. Only through the entranced tone of his voice, she will be able to understand what he is able to see.
"No more undercover assignments for me," Cal confirmed what he had hinted at before.
There it was. The answer Hines had been waiting for. He nodded. "Have you thought about alternatives?"
Actually, Cal had. There was something, something his thoughts had kept returning to again and again, but he had no plan as yet. There simply had been no time to figure out the details, considering everything that had been going on. It didn't matter though. He wouldn't be Cal Lightman if he didn't rely on his strength to improvise.
Cal pushed the envelope away from him in Hines' direction. "Yes, I have."
The envelope in Cal's jacket contains his resignation, immediately effective. Hines offered him to do more research, at least for some time, but Cal declined. He wants his new life to start now, not some time.
Gillian's breathing has calmed down. Her eyes meet his; she focuses on Cal's face with a smile. Then she notices the way he looks at her. There is more to it than post-sex-haze.
"What is it?"
"I need to talk to you about something."
If someone observed them, they would see a man among the shades and a woman in the light, the lines blurring as he dives into her light and she into his shades.
- To be continued -
Like Cal, I haven't figured out the details as yet, but this chapter kind of is the turning point for their new life. :)