I just wanted to say, I wrote a little extra chapter but it will be shared only with selected readers. So much time and efforts go into this, it's only fair the exra work goes to those who show they care. Needless to say, Just and Mary you are deffo in to get it already!

I am posting again tomorrow

Gillian looked up from the papers, relieved to be finally done with them. But then her eyes landed on the time flashing at the right bottom corner of the screen just as it switched from 9.59 to 10pm and she groaned. Another late night in the office, another evening spent with the only company of work. The only thing more depressing than that, was that it wasn't like she had any better alternative besides being home, eating and drinking alone and trying to find solace in fictional entertainment.

"God!" She moaned to her empty office, thinking that self commiseration was even more miserable.

Then she shook her head and put the finished paperwork in the folder with the intention to leave it on the reception desk, so that Anna could pass it on to Sarah first thing in the morning. As usual, Cal made the hiring and she took care of actually implementing the series of actions that that implied. Contracts, information forms, training and all the things he didn't concern himself with. Still, at least on that occasion she was glad he had decided to give the girl a chance. She was prepared, she wanted to learn and she had already shown that she wasn't intimidated by him. More than that, Cal seemed to be entertainingly irritated by her and she was looking forward to seeing their interaction develop.

Gillian was used to be the last person in the office, or almost the last one, and barely noticed the faint echo of her boots on the floor as she walked down the corridor. What she did notice, registering the anomaly, was a deem light coming from Cal's office. Granted, he had seemed to be quite in a rush to leave but he was always very careful, to the point of being paranoid really, in leaving his office dark and locked up when going home. Gillian rolled her eyes then walked over to the open door, going inside and making her direct way to the lamp that had been left on on the desk, thinking as little as that seemed if he wasn't going to get that book through they might have to start keeping an eye on non essential energy consumption around the office-

You mess with my finances again, you and I are through

Cal's not so veiled menace popped back into her mind as she switched off the light, and her hand lingered on the object for a moment as she wondered how had she actually been able to keep that conversation - if that could be called a conversation - out of her mind for so long. She had been busy, that was the truth. First ironing out the last details with the bank and the police following Cal's latest exploit, then making sure Sarah had at least some kind of induction before sending her home…in other words, cleaning up after him as usual.

"Well then, I wonder how he feels about messing with his liquor!"

She uttered the exclamation to the empty room, clenching her jaw as she spoke to fight back the little surge of anger she felt inside her, then she tossed her bag on the desk and went to the library. Without even needing to switch on the lights, Gillian went straight for the old writing desk in the room and opened the bottom compartment, retrieving the bottle of scotch. She looked at the glasses sitting next to the bottle and motioned to take one, but then smirked and thought they probably weren't clean anyway and took the bottle. Then she cleared the armchair of books and other loose objects and sat down, stretching her legs as she took the first sip straight from the bottle.

She closed her eyes and let the stinging liquor wrap around her tongue, slid down her throat and spread inside her with its comforting warmth, thinking maybe she didn't regret staying late all that much for once. But then the rest of the confrontation, which had been almost entirely one sided, played through her mind again and she felt the need to take a second, much longer swig at the bottle. Not only that had been uncalled for, daring even considering that he was once again jeopardising the financial stability of the company, but also extremely poorly timed. They had just helped that woman get her house back, possibly her future and one day her family…and he had gone and ruined all that with some of the most hurtful things he had ever said to her.

What she hated the most about it all, was that in that moment she had been so taken aback by his brazen speech and that all so mighty sure and righteous look of him that she hadn't been able to reply as she would have wanted. Oh yes, she might have had a thing or two to respond to him if Mrs Salinger hadn't walked in on them but she was afraid she might have lost her chance by then.

Unless…

The Lightman Group was built on my sweat

"How about my sweat?" She chimed out loud to the room, more liquor finding its way down her throat. "How about how you begged me to create this with you? Because I had something you didn't."

I don't see anyone else's name on the door, nor on my book jacket, for that matter

Gillian laughed out loud as that one came through, hysterically, nearly choking as she drank again. A name on the door, who did he think he was? Romeo bloody Montague? On a book he had written nearly a decade ago? Or the new one he had been commissioned to write thanks to her finding a publisher patient enough to wait for him to come up with an idea?

Now, you're the language expert

"You liked that, didn't you? You always like to throw it back at me as if making it all up, as if my science is second tier compared to yours." She stood up, way too quickly considering the amount of alcohol already running through her blood stream, but after a brief dizzy spell she went for the bottle again. "Looking so serious, like I've done something wrong."

You tell me, do I mean that?

Yea, he did. So what? How dared he mean that, even think about it?

Gillian brought the bottle back to her mouth but stopped for a moment, lifting it to see how much liquid was left in it as if worrying about she might finish it, then she snorted a sarcastic laugh and shrugged. To hell with it, if he thought he could afford the luxury not to care about the company's money then he wouldn't mind using his own to refill his vices.

"You mess with my finances again, you and I are through," Gillian mumbled his words to herself, mockingly reproducing his tone of voice, his all serious and intimidating look and even having a go at his British accent. "I'd like to see you try, Cal. I really would."

Gillian kept muttering away after that, pacing the room back and forth, absently browsing the books all over the place while taking short sips from the bottle. And why did he have to have the bigger office, so much space? Because his name was on the door? Which wasn't technically accurate, his name was on the wall…and about a million other things like websites, business cards, prospectus, headed papers. All things she had taken care of on her own, by the way, because he couldn't be bothered picking a font or dumb down his brilliant mind with something as trivial as promoting the business.

"Having a party, Foster?"

Gillian turned around, knowing she had been busted and yet ready to stare him down with a daring look. Cal was standing on the door, a hint of a smile on his face although he hadn't yet decided if he should be entertained by finding her there, amused by the way she looked or mad that she had halved his precious bottle.

"Yes," she answered with no hesitation, ostentatiously taking another sip while looking right at him before lifting the bottle in a toasting gesture. "Thank you for the contribution."

Cal smirked, still on the fence about what that meant. Then he decided to wing it and take the plunge.

"Listen, it's just business with that cop-"

Uh oh, wrong guess! He thought, biting at his lip when he saw Gillian's eyes grow wide in surprise - utter shock really - for his implication. The surprise faded quickly, replaced by a deep sense of annoyance that had nothing to do with her possibly being a little tipsy, and then by an absent look he recognised as that of someone ready to give up.

"Wow!" She exhaled, looking at him as if he had said the dumbest thing in the world. "Just when I thought your ego couldn't get any bigger today!"

"Foster-"

"You do whatever you want with her Cal, you enjoy that." Gillian stepped closer to him, her chin up, taking in how utterly ridiculous he suddenly felt for having thought that she might be what, jealous, of him going out with the detective. She took her time to read his face, amused by how he had surged and fell on his own masculine pride so quickly, then smirked and not too gently showed the bottle to his chest. "Here, enjoy this too."

That said she walked past him, not even waiting to see if he actually had a grasp on the bottle before she let go of it. Not turning back, Gillian went back to his desk in the main office to retrieve her bag, more than ready to go home and forget all about that day if she could. Vaguely, as she walked out of the room she heard Cal calling her but kept walking, not interested in continuing the conversation. She had drunk too much to drive and was going to call a taxi, but she was sober enough to know that she didn't want to continue talking to him: most importantly, she was probably just tipsy enough to turn that conversation into something ugly.

But then Cal caught up to her, opting not to physically stop her but instead standing in front of her, blocking her way out.

"Alright Foster," he said once he was sure she wasn't going to try and run around him. "What is it?"

Once again her eyes bulged, wondering who the tipsy one was between them because that was the only explanation for his sudden dullness.

"You tell me, Lightman," she answered then, leaning on his last name in a way he had never heard before…and immediately disliked. Then she saw his face tense, his eyes flickering to the big letters on the wall, and scoffed loudly. "Yeah, good guess."

Then she took advantage of his passing moment of distraction and walked around him once more, opting to use the stairs instead of the elevator. She knew he was going to come after her, let it be known that Cal Lightman didn't like not to have the last word or being called out on something without retaliation, and Gillian didn't want to take the chance to share a very awkward elevator ride with him.

As she made her way down the stairs Gillian used her phone to call a taxi, her ears ready to catch noises possibly indicating he was coming down too. She didn't hear anything, yet she wasn't surprised when she saw him downstairs in the parking lot. The interesting thing, she thought, was that despite having taken the elevator he still looked a bit frazzled.

"You shouldn't drive," he said immediately, and Gillian rolled her eyes at him.

"I called a cab"

She spat back at him with hasty words, honestly insulted he would think she could be so careless. Then she started walking toward the plaza outside the building, with all the intention to ignore him and wait for her ride.

"Foster."

God, he really was relentless! Annoyed, tired, bordering into physical frustration, Gillian stopped and turned around, staring him down.

"You know what I did today, after you left?" She asked, stepping towards him so suddenly that he had to recoil. "I had to explain to the other intern I wanted to hire that we couldn't offer him what promised, and you know why? Because you not writing this book doesn't allow us to plan for that kind of thing right now. And you know what else I did, what I had to do that I really didn't want to do?" Cal gulped, not sure he wanted to hear it. "I had to reschedule two meetings, one with a possible client and one with our investors, because I had been busy chasing after you and your Robin Hood quest." It was his turn to roll his eyes, but his nonchalant reaction did nothin but fuel her anger. "And just so you know, unfreezing bank accounts takes just as much time and bureaucracy as it takes to freeze them. Not that you'd care, of course, you never do."

"So that's what got you all bothered all of a sudden? Money?" He chuckled. "You know, I didn't talk about money this much even when I was married. Why are you always so worried about this stuff?"

"This stuff keeps us in business, Cal," she roared back at him, feeling her hand itch to make contact with his face. "This stuff that you never want to bother with is what allows us to do our job."

"Well then we'll hire someone to take care of that, if that gets you all riled up."

"And how is that going to make things any better, Cal? Assuming we had the resources to hire someone, like you say, someone will still need to liaise with them and we both know who that is going to be."

"Not my fault if you're good at it," he shrugged. "I never asked asked you to do it, you just took it upon yourself when we first started-"

"Because you don't Cal, you never have. You don't even think about it." Gillian was very aware of the fact that she was raising her voice but at that point she was past caring. "You act like we don't even need money to run this place. You chase away investors and clients and then you expect things to work themselves out."

"They have so far."

If there had ever been a moment in her life in which she came close to resorting to violence, that was it. What he said, the way he said it, with that little childish shrug of his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal…Gillian truly wanted to strangle him. Instead she took a deep breath, fresh air clearing her mind and spirit for a second before she spoke again.

"Because I take care of it, Cal. All of it. I do the books, the balances, the paperwork-"

Cal groaned, he had the courage to roll his eyes at her and moan like a bored child.

"I can't believe we're still having this conversation."

"Yeah?" Gillian responded in stride, not willing to back down. "And I can't believe I still have to remind people I work with you, not for you. That most of the time the first person who needs to be told it's you."

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to apologise for the decades I spent studying and perfecting my science, for having created something from scratch?" Cal opened his arms and took a step back, as if he was ready to fight with more than just words, then pointed at himself with his hand. "It's my science, my skills, that gets clients through that door. My nam-"

"Your name on the wall, yes Cal. You don't need to remind me…you never miss a chance to do that, do you?" She laughed sadly and shook her head before looking at him again. "Let me tell you something, it might be your name that gets people through the door but that's not what keeps them around."

"So what is it? Your charm and good looks?"

That was a personal blow, different and lower than what they had been doing so far. It hurt, but only on the surface. Underneath, behind that aggressive look and tone of his, Gillian knew that he was resorting to that kind of tactics because she had the upper hand.

"I'm the one who makes sure they stay, Cal. I'm the one who finds people interested in getting in." She tilted her head on one side, her eyes steady on him, her body assuming a challenging stand. "When's the last time you brought in a client, a real one? Someone who pays instead of doing favours, working for free for some of your 'friends' or taking on a case for personal reasons?"

"Well that's rich!"

Cal blurted, but it was telling that he didn't have an actual answer to her questions. He was scrambling, Gillian knew it and so did he, which was why she felt confident in flashing him an aggressive grin, followed by a clear victorious expression.

"Is it?" She dared him.

"At least I don't see people coming here looking for help as numbers in the ins and out columns," he replied, but even as he said it he knew his counter wasn't good enough.

And when Gillian's features suddenly softened, the rage and contempt suddenly gone and replaced by a genuine smile that didn't scream confrontation, Cal knew he was screwed.

"You really think that's all I care about?" She asked then, inching closer not to intimidate him but to make sure he had full access to every muscle and curve of her face. "You're the deception expert. Is that what you really see?"

Cal swallowed, knowing his back was against the wall. Of course not, he had never thought that and he didn't need Gillian to let him read her so freely to have confirmation of that, which made his side of the argument a mere moot point. She knew it, of course, she had known probably longer than him and she took her sweet ass time to thoroughly enjoy her victory, watching as all of that dawned on him.

Then, to save him from his own defeat, the taxi arrived. The car pulled close to them and Gillian acknowledged its arrival but didn't break eye contact with Cal. Instead she took a couple of steps back, eventually releasing him from holding her gaze as she opened the back door. She leaned down and started to get in, then stopped halfway and gave him one last look.

One last piece of her mind.

"You mess with our company again Cal, and I am through."