Tori: oh well, I do my best

For the second night in a row, sleep was hard to come by.

After leaving the prison as furious and hurt as she had ever been in her life Gillian had gone home, only to feel like she couldn't stay there. The place still bore the signs of the visit from the police and nothing around there felt familiar or private anymore, and she was too upset at Cal to think about sleeping in his bed even if he wasn't there. Her old apartment was long gone, so she packed a bag and checked herself into a hotel.

The room was small, anonymous and smelled stuffy because it was impossible to open the windows with the incessant rain coming from all directions, but it had what Gillian needed: silence, a big bed and a bathtub where to hopefully drown her frustration. She ordered some food through room service but left most of it untouched, unable to get anything down as if the exasperation she was feeling had formed a cork inside her, blocking most of her more natural and biological needs. No wonder that it was impossible to sleep, even more so because during the day her only nourishment had been coffee, in an unhealthy quantity and frequency.

Still, more coffee was all she could muster for breakfast the morning after before heading back. To the office.

She needed time, she needed space.

Cal wasn't talking to her, not in any meaningful way, he wasn't accepting her help and he wasn't listening: she wasn't going to waste time with him, not when there was a good chance that word of the latest development had already gotten out. Convincing the people they worked with that there was nothing to it had been difficult enough the day before, now there was a possible murder added to the picture and Gillian knew reassurances were going to be nearly impossible to provide.

But she had to try, and she was going to play whatever role was needed. She was in the cube questioning suspects on the fraud case they were working on, going out of her way to provide the best service possible and show the client the confident attitude of someone who had nothing to worry about; then she would go in her office, take a moment to have a silent and quick mental breakdown and get on the phone to get back to all those who had tried to contact her. It was a never-ending task, everytime she thought she had reached the end of the list there was another call or another email coming and she had to compose herself again and start all over.

Around lunchtime, she had figured out how to deal with the inevitable questions about the rumours on the possible murder, and with some flair. It clicked in her head that Cal had not been charged yet, and had managed to spin it in a very simple but effective way: well obviously there is nothing to it or they would have already charged him for it, don't you think? She was less direct with the people she spoke with, more like planting a seed of doubt and letting it grow, but by 4pm she managed to reassure quite a few people that clearly the police didn't have much on Cal for good reasons, that being that he was innocent.

If only she could have reassured herself just as easily!

Not about his innocence, that wasn't in doubt: where she struggled to see the light at the end of the tunnel was in the fact that everything was going to work out eventually. Cal might have believed it at first, she had seen that…but during their last conversation she had also seen that he wasn't so sure of it anymore. It was a rational thought, and it scared her. As much as it scared her, the fact that he still didn't want to change his approach now that they had a winning hand. At first, when he had told her not to worry, she had thought that he must have some ace up his sleeve, that whatever he was up to would turn out to be one of his masterful long-term plans and he was just waiting for the right moment to play his card. But now they had it, the card was there ready to be revealed and he just wanted to reshuffle the deck.

It went beyond her ability to comprehend him, and she was starting to feel like it was going beyond Cal's ability to let her in.

It wasn't about another woman, she knew that, and that wasn't the problem with him asking to get Zoe to be on the case. It wasn't because of a case, not one coming through the Group or related to one they had worked on at some point: it wasn't something he was ashamed of, she had seen nothing of the sort, and obviously nothing that had to do Emily or he had been spiralling out of control. What else could it be, that he was so guarded about it? She had even considered that he might be in danger, but again nothing seemed to be pointing in that direction and if someone was trying to harm him perhaps a prison was the safest place to be for him.

"Stop it," she had to tell herself, feeling her concentration slip once again. "You can't do anything about that anyway."

It was disheartening that something like that was her mantra, but it also reflected the reality of the situation. Technically she could, but she wasn't allowed to and that was pretty much the same in her book.

She was still trying to go back to the right mind set, the focused and professional one she needed at that moment, when she heard a knock on the door of her office. She didn't welcome the sound, it was a distraction and she had been very clear that she was not to be disturbed till the end of the day, and when she looked up and Zoe was standing there she truly felt like screaming.

Gillian didn't invite her to come in, knowing it wouldn't account for much, then sighed and leaned back on her chair as the lawyer walked in and carefully asked with a nod to the chair if she could sit down. Gillian shrugged, feeling like her opinion and desires didn't matter much anymore, and Zoe bit at her bottom lip as she tried to make herself comfortable.

The two women sat in silence for a while, mostly because Zoe couldn't come up with a suitable opening. Something like 'how are you doing' seemed ridiculous, as much as asking anything about work. She certainly wasn't going to mention that she looked like crap and when was the last time she had slept, or to talk about the gallery of beaten up faces she had seen on the employees on her way in.

After a few seconds of silence and pondering her options, Zoe eventually realised that if she had been in Gillian's shoes there was only one thing she'd wanted to hear.

"If it can make you feel any better, he's not giving me much to work with either."

Gillian studied her for a second, not that she expected her to lie about something like that, then sighed and shook her head.

"Actually no, it doesn't." Gillian confessed. "I thought the whole point of calling you was to do something about this, for real. That he would tell you what he can't tell me and you'd figure out what to do."

"I know what to do, even with the little he gave me." Gillian knew she shouldn't have, but she still felt a pinch of pain understanding that the woman in front of her had more information than her. "Whatever case they are trying to build, they are being particularly sloppy about it. The missing body cams, that alone is a big red flag. These days, with the role they have and the technology it will be really hard to convince a jury that there's nothing wrong with it. Not to mention the autopsy." She paused for a second, understanding that Gillian hadn't heard the latest since she had avoided Cal all day. "I got a copy of the full report, and according to the coroner Ash was standing when he was hit in the head, from someone who was at least his height if not taller, and Cal is a good 5 inches shorter. It doesn't quite add up, and I know for a fact not many ADAs would like to bring a case tainted by something like that. Not to mention the questionable search of the car."

"They had a warrant for that, Martin said it checked out and that they had probable cause."

"They did, on the location of the arrest when they say they found drugs on Cal. They should have searched the car there, and they didn't even need a warrant. And I'm not talking options, I am talking about standard procedures that were not followed."

Gillian had to give to her, with all their past she had never questioned Zoe's legal skills and it was evident that she was much more versed with that sort of thing than lovely but out-of-his-depth Martin.

"How about the two officers, Teller and Ford?"

"I looked into their records and performances, nothing too outstanding but also nothing negative about them. Never a complaint or a disciplinary action, they were in the academy together and they've been in the force for 9 years." Zoe paused for a second, not holding back a smirk. "The most remarkable thing about them seems to be that they keep showing up in a peculiar pattern when Cal is concerned, at least in the past few days."

"They weren't with the team who discovered the body," Gillian pointed out, playing devil's advocate.

"Which might have been a smart move, three out of three big findings on the same case with them on the field might have started to attract attention," Zoe noted, something Gillian had not yet considered. "However, I am starting to think the body they found was just a coincidence."

"Why?"

"If someone is really trying to paint Cal as guilty of that there would be more evidence, not to mention the timing. Their story is that Cal was there the nights he told you he was out with Reynolds, if they really wanted to frame him for it the time of death to one of those nights."

"Are you saying they could potentially doctor the autopsy report like that?"

She was, maybe, but she wasn't going to say it out loud, content with the fact that speculation didn't apply to the current situation.

"What I am saying is that a wise Assistant DA would realise that if he goes to trial with what they have a jury would have no problem grasping the concept of reasonable doubt."

Gillian watched her intently, for a moment pondering the fact that it was perhaps the first time she had ever actively tried to read the other woman. Zoe wasn't trying to sugar coat it for her, she wasn't trying to be reassuring for the sake of it: she was a lawyer, she had been a DA in that very same city and she knew what she was talking about. Never in a million years Gillian would have thought that the person bringing a rain of sunshine to her gloomy days would have been Cal's ex-wife.

"These two, they're just regular beat cops, right?" Zoe nodded. "I know it's not like with detectives, working specifically in this or that department, but how much of their work is drugs related?"

"A fair amount," the other woman informed her, not surprised by the direction of Gillian's question. "They've taken part in some big busts and operations, just an extra gun with no deep involvement. But apparently they have a lot of CIs in the area and it actually seems like their beat is pretty clear of dealings."

"Is it now," Gillian mumbled, easily catching Zoe's drift. Teller and Ford's work frequently featured drugs, yet the area they normally patrolled seemed to be unaffected by such activity or at least under control: perhaps the question was under whose control? "You think there's something to Cal's theory, that he's been framed?"

Zoe sighed and shifted on the chair, suddenly uncomfortable for the first time, and not because of the professional side of the conversation.

"I think…I know that Cal is no drug lord, and certainly not a murderer. And I know that he needs you." Gillian clenched her jaw, blaming herself for having failed to account for something like that coming her way. "I know it's difficult with Cal not telling you what is going on, and like you I would struggle to understand why. Even if he's asking you not to do anything, it doesn't mean that he doesn't need you and I mean in more ways than one." Gillian frowned, not sure what she meant. "Martin told me about all the digging they are doing just to put him under a bad light. They will try to kill his reputation and they might succeed even if everything turns out to be ok. This is the moment for his friend, his business partner and girlfriend to be at his side and show her she supports him no matter what. If you don't stand in his corner nobody else will."

After that little speech, acting as if it was the only reason for her visit, Zoe stood up and started to walk towards the door. Gillian watched her but didn't really see, violently dragged into deep and tormented thoughts because of her words, biting at her bottom lip furiously as she chewed them inside her head.

"I have a friend, a detective in narcotics," she called out before Zoe could leave the room. "I didn't want to get him involved but perhaps we can ask him if has worked with Ford and Teller before?" Zoe gave her a small nod of approval, then motioned to leave again. "Don't take this the wrong way Zoe, but why-"

Why are you helping him? Why are you being so nice to me and understanding?

"He's the father of my child," she interrupted Gillian with a shy smile. "I can't let him go to jail."

And with that she left, leaving Gillian with a lot to think about.

When Cal hobbled his way into the room he looked like he had just woken up, scratching his chin and fighting back a yawn with red and slightly swollen eyes. Instead of feeling angry, insulted that he could sleep while it was impossible for her to rest, Gillian thought that he looked adorable. Sleeping Cal Lightman always was, peaceful and unguarded, with this mouth slightly open and usually the tip of his tongue poking out. So calm, so intriguing and charming…

Focus, Gillian!

She had to call herself to order, waiting for the guard to leave and watching Cal sitting at the table with a dull expression on his face. Not that he wasn't happy to see her, he always was, but it was evident that after their last conversation the day before and her absence throughout the day he wasn't expecting a visit anytime soon. He understood that she was upset, and he knew that her being there was not easy for her: he just wasn't entirely sure he was ready to let her down again.

Gillian took her time, reinforcing Cal's feeling that she was indeed about to start another round, but eventually she sat close to him and studied his face, still bearing the fading signs of the bruises from his first arrest and the goody mark of the pillow on his cheek.

"Are you ok?"

She asked, and although there didn't seem to be sweetness in her voice she definitely cared.

"Yes love, I'm alright." Cal answered but tried not to smile, keeping the reassurance for her concern to himself. But then he went and ruined it all with the follow up question. "Dare I ask you how are you doing?"

Cal knew he had pushed too far the moment the words left his mouth, his question somehow forcing an invisible veil covering her face to drop and reveal how tired, nervous and lost she was. He had only seen her like that once, when he had showed up at her house years before after she had called him in tears mumbling something about Sophie: knowing that this time he was the reason for that expression and all that it meant made him feel like utter crap.

"I'm so sorry, Gill." Cal tried to stop that expression from haunting him for the rest of his life, knowing she could hear the honesty and pain in his voice as he begged. "I know it's hard but you have to trust me."

"That is the problem Cal, I do trust you," Gillian shushed him. "I spent the day putting out fires, pretending everything is ok and reassuring everybody but myself. I am helping our staff to carry on with their work, I am helping our clients with their needs and our associates with their investments…and I am beyond mad that you won't let me do the one thing I could do to help you, but it's clear that there something brewing here and you have to understand that you can't shut me out, not anymore. I want to help you, and it's killing me that you won't let me. And not just me. I don't care if you talk to Zoe or Martin or anybody else but you have to trust someone with this." She put her hands on top of his as she kept talking. "I am here for you but perhaps it's not me that you need, not anything I can do. No, just listen Cal." He was trying to say something, along the lines that he needed her like the air he breathed, but Gillian shook her head and admonished him with a sad look before going on. "You made it very clear that there is nothing I can do for you right now, and I can see that maybe it doesn't always have to be me." She stopped, and for the first time her face softened, her eyes easing their invisible hold on him as they wandered on his face for a moment. "I know that whatever it is you are hiding has nothing to do with us."

Gillian was pretty confident that saying out loud that she knew he wasn't involved with another woman or something like that was emotionally overwhelming for her, and maybe a little silly that she would focus on that detail with everything else that was going on: but to see the relief in Cal's eyes, nearly moved to tears at the realisation that that kind of trust between them had not been compromised, was damn near breathtaking.

"Gillian-"

"I spoke with Patrick," she carried on then, knowing they had no time to put their feelings on the table. "Those two officers, Teller and Fords, seem to stumble on quite a lot of work around narcotics despite being just beat cops. I asked him to look them up, discreetly. Maybe he can find something that would explain why they seem so hung up on you…"

She was busy talking, sharing with him her initiative and the idea behind with a wave of shy enthusiasm and she was too invested in that to notice how Cal reacted to it. He listened alright, but as she explained he pulled away from her slowly, shaking his head and biting at his bottom lip.

"Why?" Cal asked, honesty baffled. "Why would you do that Gill? I told you-"

"Why not Cal? They are looking into you, why shouldn't we be looking into them?" The familiar and painful feeling of being out of the loop came over once more, confusing her soul and hurting her brain. "If we do it they will try to shut us down, but he can do it without looking suspicious."

But Cal was shaking his head with slow and wide movement, showing all his disappointment and perhaps some worry for the move she had pulled.

"That's the problem, love. He absolutely will."