A/N: For the general setting of the story see the A/N of the prologue.
First of all, let me say how incredibly happy it made me to find out that there are still some people around reading this, let alone reviewing. You made my day. And this includes the guest reviewers, of course.
So this is it. The last chapter. This story has a special place in my heart. More than 100k words. That alone is a miracle, at least in my universe. I have no idea how other authors manage to write 200k+ stories as if it was nothing.
Most of this chapter is Callian fluff with a twinge of angst because that's me. Content-wise I've picked up on a topic from ch. 18-21 in the last part of this chapter. Just in case you want to re-read something.
The usual disclaimer applies (see prologue).
- Epilogue: This is how it begins -
"Come on!"
Gillian gives the leash a tug impatiently. She shouldn't have to do this; Cal promised her that he would take care of it. She knew that he likes dogs; she likes them, too. Gillian didn't know, though, that Cal especially likes one breed. Of all breeds, it's the one that she is not exactly fond of – pugs. As if on cue, the dog stops to look at her. Gillian sighs. These brown puppy eyes can melt a heart. She suspects that the dog calculates what it is doing. The little thing already has wrapped Cal round its finger or rather paw. Two weeks ago Cal brought the puppy with him. Turns out, he'd had a dog as a child, had always wanted to have one again and, well, what better time than now that things are changing, either way, to get one? Her arguments who was supposed to take care of it when they were at work were to no avail. So they will start their new firm with a pug waddling down the hallway and peeing in every corner if they don't manage to get it housebroken until then.
The puppy finally squats down and relieves itself, followed by another one of these heartbreaking looks.
"Good girl, Isabel," Gillian praises it.
Perhaps they will get used to each other after all.
Just when she closes the door behind her, the phone rings.
"Hey, luv."
"Hey, Cal. Isabel..." Gillian shoos the pug away that tries to climb onto the couch. "You don't let her lie on the couch when I'm not here, do you?"
A brief pause. Then. "Nah. Don't do that."
"You know I can hear when you're lying?"
Another pause.
"Don't you want to know about the interview?"
The reason why Cal couldn't take the dog for a walk and she had to fill in.
"Don't try to distract me."
Out of the corner of her eyes, Gillian sees how Isabel tries to climb onto the couch again and succeeds after several failed attempts. Actually, it looks quite cute how her short legs kick in the air until she manages to pull herself up. Gillian shakes her head and slouches her shoulders resignedly. How could she expect that her training would be effective when she is living with Cal? If he hadn't written a book about reading micro expressions, he would have written a book about breaking the rules or at least bending them when your significant other isn't home. He definitely let the dog lie on the couch, probably even taught it how to get there. Gillian puts away the silk cushion.
"But you don't get to drool on that one," she whispers to the puppy before she continues to talk to Cal in her normal voice. "Traitor," she states as a matter of form. Not that it would change anything. "Tell me about the interview."
"You two get along, don't ya?" he sounds worried.
"Yes, we do. The interview, Cal."
They will start their new business in less than six weeks. Albeit the premises are furnished for the greater part, there are still a thousand things to do. Cal is a model of calm whereas Gillian is whirling twenty-four-seven. Somehow their dichotomy works out, as it does most of the time. Aside from a secretary who will also be their receptionist, they won't be able to hire employees at this stage. As a nice byproduct of Cal's readings and appearances on the radio and on television, requests are already coming in though. It looks as if the hard times every company faces after its foundation won't take long. That's why they decided to start the selection process already. It will be difficult as it is to find someone who fits in and is qualified to live up to the special requirements of the job at the same time.
It was Gillian's idea to contact Ria Torres. The detective who interrogated her. An uncomfortable memory because it felt as if Torres knew everything about her just by looking at her. When Cal told her that there are naturals in his field, people who have his skills but by birth, without training, she was reminded of that woman.
"You were right," he confirms what they assumed. "She's a natural, must have seen that you were lying back then. I bet it's killing her that she will never find out the truth."
They fall silent for a moment. Gillian knew by intuition that Ria Torres was a potential candidate for their firm. Intelligent, rough around the edges, and a natural as it has turned out now. On the other hand, the fact that she was involved in the investigation against them is a risk they discussed. What if Torres can't forget about it? What if she keeps digging deeper and eventually learns something that she could hold against them? It only takes an incautious moment for something like that to happen.
"But she doesn't live in the past," Cal continues. "Lots of energy. Always looking for the next challenge. Pretended to be shy about taking the offer, but she can't wait to be on board."
"So you think it's safe to hire her?"
In the end, Gillian trusts Cal to make the right decision. Reading people is his field of expertise.
"Safe's not a word I'd use to describe her but yeah."
"OK." Gillian realizes that she has been petting Isabel the entire time. The pug is sound asleep on the couch by now. "One down. One more to go. Speaking of..."
They agreed that they will hire two employees for research, lab analysis, and paperwork in general, once their company will be out of the woods. Gillian walks over to the table where she had put the file down before she walked the dog.
"Ben Reynolds," she reads. "Former FBI, dropped out for personal reasons, currently working part-time for a security contractor and as an advisor. A colleague recommended him. Consider him the addition we need to complete the package. We don't need another scientist or natural. We need someone who knows how to do research or perform an interrogation. Don't you think?"
The secretary, slash receptionist, will have to suffice for the paperwork arising from Gillian's work as a psychologist. Since they already agreed that Gillian will keep their accounts and the incoming requests mainly concern Cal's field of expertise, he will be the one to need more assistance soon. Gillian would like to hire an accountant one day, but for now she decided to postpone that. A gift for Cal because he put her name first. The logo was installed yesterday. Huge neon letters. Foster & Lightman. It looks fantastic.
"FBI?" Cal sounds alarmed.
"Don't worry. I won't mention your history of illegal gambling when I meet him tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Why the rush, luv? Is he good looking, that one?"
Gillian has to smile. He exaggerated his jealousy as part of their banter, but the essence of his question is real. Cal is the jealous type and very possessive as long as she lets him act upon it.
"What? You get to hire a good looking woman, but I can't hire a good looking man?"
It's a joke but also a reminder. Cal tends to apply different standards to himself and her and Gillian doesn't intend to let it become a habit.
"So he is good looking," he states in his gotcha voice, followed by an unintelligible murmur.
Gillian smiles some more as she looks at the picture that is attached to the file. Ben Reynolds is good looking, indeed. Why should Cal have all the fun? Obviously some of his attributes have started to rub off on her. She is still their voice of reason, but at the same time she is getting a bit more offensively-minded. Gillian likes it and she likes that it makes him nervous.
"Be home soon," she purrs. "Your favorite dessert is waiting for you."
She is not talking about food.
The appointment couldn't have been more untimely. The opening of Foster & Lightman is tomorrow and there are some last minute issues that they urgently need to resolve. But when the clinic called, Gillian knew that she wouldn't be able to postpone, untimely or not. She has to know. Then why isn't she able to get out of the car?
It's raining, the constant drumming of the raindrops on the car roof soothing, as if they are in a world of their own. An illusion. The real world still exists. Outside. Waiting for her. Right in this moment, though, Gillian lends herself to the imagination that this is all there is. He. She. In here together. It gives her the strength she needs.
Cal is sitting beside her. He doesn't encourage her to get out of the car, doesn't say anything, just is there.
They always knew it would happen. Building a new life together only had been keeping them so occupied that they almost forgot about it. Almost. And now the remaining test results came in. That's why the clinic called. Today Gillian Foster will learn whether she is able to have children or not.
Cal's insistence to accompany her is not triggered by guilt due to his role in her miscarriage and the medical complications that followed. They left that behind. He simply wants to be with her and she wants him here.
Gillian feels his fingers brushing hers, a tender preamble that he will break the silence.
"Before we go in there, luv, there's something I want you to know." He waits until she looks at him. "I want you to be a mother, Gill. I do. So don't get this the wrong way, but this..." He gestures toward the clinic. "Whatever they tell you today... Doesn't matter to me. All that matters is this." He moves his hand back and forth between their bodies.
This and his daughter, he doesn't have to mention it. Emily will come to visit them in a couple of weeks. It will be the first time that she and Gillian meet. Gillian is excited but anxious whereas Cal knows that they will get along.
Gillian has teared up but swallows to refrain from crying. The rain has stopped. She takes a deep breath, squeezes his hand and opens the door.
So there might be more tears later. And they might be tears of joy or pain. Either way, life moves forward, no matter what happens, no matter if it has good news or bad. The clock always keeps ticking.
And this is how it begins.
The End
Addendum: Don't ask me why, but I always knew that I would end the story at exactly that moment in their lives. It's ambiguous, I know, and some of you might have preferred an answer as to whether they will be able to have children or not, but it just felt right that way. Nothing's for sure. Everything's possible. So, basically, the story ends as you want it to end.