A/N: This story will have a total of 5 chapters to be posted fairly quickly because it's all written, just needs editing. And, it is my favourite of all the Callian stories I have ever written, inspired by the little exchange in Darkness and Light where Gillian tries to call Molly an ex-actress and is told to say it in plain English. Hope you enjoy!
She doesn't hear all the things his body tells her. She's not a native speaker. She has spent nearly a decade learning every little thing that made him, well him, and yet she's still nowhere near fluent. She thinks she understands him sometimes, then he goes and does something that completely surprises her, conflicts with the values of the man she thought he was, with the rules of grammar and convention and usage. And it's because the nuances of a language aren't so easy to learn. Sometimes, and only sometimes, native speakers understand them a bit better or can at least infer their meaning. But Gillian doesn't know that they're there at all.
It's in the way he holds his body slightly differently when she's around than when she's not. It's in the way he leans just a hair closer to her voice, her scent, her touch than any other person. It's in the way his terrible posture somehow slouches that bit more when she's near so as not to betray him. It's in the little things, in the things that would never catch the attention of someone not really looking and may even then escape them.
So yes, there are others that can see it, that look at him and know how deeply he loves her in just seconds. Just because she's not hearing doesn't mean he's not saying the words. He loves her. He carries so much love for her in his every cell that his body's been telling her without his permission for years.
Emily sees it. Emily notices the little things and makes the connection near instantly. She so innocently asks him if it's true and the mere weight of his confession has her realising that it's even deeper than she expected. And she can see Gillian's more obvious mirroring. Gillian's not a native speaker; her words are clumsy and disjointed on her tongue (all over her body). Her amateurish speech pattern makes her so transparent to those who know the language well. It's the chasm-wide gaps between the syllables, the words, which gives her away. It's the hesitations her body makes that her voice wouldn't ever.
Zoe sees it. Zoe looks at Gillian with so much contempt because she knew all those years ago that her husband was in love with his business partner just by a subtle softening of all his movements, by the way his actions spoke of a reverence for Gillian that he'd never shown for her. She sees it in Gillian, too. Even more so, now she's been single. Gillian's voice betrays none without losing any at all and that's always been a wonder to Zoe. But, her body stumbles over the words in her fear of saying them and Zoe knows. She knows there's a love there that goes both ways, a love that's magnitude could swallow up the universe if finally unleashed in all of its intensity.
Gillian's a language expert, fluent in at least three, so it's strange she doesn't understand that this one works the same. Body language is still a language and he's been trying to tell her the same thing for years, something that has no perfect translation, something that means so much less in plain English. Even knowing him for eight years, she still doesn't know enough of Cal Lightman to really be able to translate his actions into words. She gets the main ideas, but she can't quite explain the depth, can't quite understand it herself. She knows that he cares about her, but not how much. She doesn't see the devotion, the respect, the love he has for her. Honestly, love isn't a big enough word to cover all the things he feels about her.
That's why he won't say the words with his voice. The word 'love' even in its most powerful usage has become dulled, thrown around carelessly and losing mass along the edges as it chips and dents and scratches. The word 'love' wouldn't tell her that she is so important to him that he would literally give his life just to ensure her happiness, that he would give her anything, he would be anyone just to be near her. To be with her... God, he doesn't even know what he wouldn't give, wouldn't do to be with her. He's more than in love with her. He more than needs her, more than wants her, even more than can't live without her.
He feels for her something so strong, so rare, there are no words that can describe it, none at all. But somehow, his body has found a way to. And he'll wait. He'll wait as long as it takes for her to see it, for her to become fluent in the language of the body, particularly the language of his body. He'll wait for her to see it, and if she says it (that word that's meaning he knows will suddenly be more just because it leaves her mouth), then he'll show her all the other things his body has to say.