A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: A Christmas Party after a rough few days.


"Hey… you ok?"

She hovered in the half-opened doorway, not sure if she'd be welcomed into his moment of solitude. She had quietly opened the door, sort of hoping that he wouldn't even be in here. Hoping maybe he was in the men's room, or off mingling and chatting with their staff and she just kept missing him. But here he was. And while part of her was disappointed to find him hiding away, another part of her was somewhat relived to have the possibility of a few moments alone with him.

"Told you earlier," he spoke, low and soft, as he turned back his back to her once more, staring at the photos he kept behind his desk. Pretending that he was looking at them, all the while both of them knowing he was looking inwards instead. "I'm not sure yet."

"Well, that was about an hour ago, so…" she trailed off, making sure with her tone that he understood she was kidding.

She needed this time with him right now. Desperately. She had made sure that Emily had been quietly sequestered away in his library for when he arrived back this evening after his impromptu adventures. It had been important that they have their reunion in private, knowing that it would be emotional and tense. Knowing that Emily would want to berate him in her own particular way. Knowing that Cal would want to be alone with his daughter, all apologetic and uncharacteristically sappy. If she hadn't told Em to head there when Cal had texted to say he was on the way, Cal would have been more self-conscious around everyone. It was a private moment. They deserved their reunion after a traumatic few days.

Gillian had afforded herself no such luxury or privilege. Truth be told, perhaps there was a hint of cowardice about the decision. If, the first time she'd seen him after the last few days, they had been alone? She couldn't have promised herself that she wouldn't just throw herself at him, consequences be damned. No. She made sure that their reunion was public. That their hug and kiss and ever-so-slightly tender moment had been just public enough to ensure she didn't just grab him and wrap herself around him and not let go until Christmas.

But after a comforting hug, a just the right-side-of-platonic kiss, and a few all-in-good-fun insults thrown at their younger colleagues, they began to mingle and laugh and poke fun at each other. And after a little while, she began to long to be alone with him. Just to be sure he really was ok. Just to be sure he wasn't lying to himself while retreating into the deepest, darkest depths of his own self destruction. Honestly, just to have the comfort of holding him, however inappropriate it may be.

She figured he had likely gotten sick and tired of her eyes following him around the room like a creepy painting. Figured he needed to just get away from the noise. Away from the cheer. Away from her, and Torres, both looking at him like he was a chipped cup about to shatter. So, when she couldn't see him around for a bit, she forced herself to just let it go. A little while later and she began to worry. She bumped into Emily and Rick and knew then that he wasn't making up for his borderline betrayal to Em by spending quality time with his daughter. When Loker came back from a bathroom break she asked if he'd seen Lightman. His unconcerned shrug told her that he wasn't in there. She began to worry he'd run off. So as a last-ditch effort, she headed for his office, hoping in equal measure that he was and was not in there.

He was in there. Probably for close to the last hour. He didn't answer her little joke, but his body language and his little huff of air told her that he appreciated it. He actually seemed to have relaxed a little in the few seconds since she'd entered the room. So, she took that as an invitation. She closed the door behind her, softly, almost secretly, and she treaded towards him. When she was close enough, she reached a gentle hand out to run across his shoulder and trail down his back until she reached the top of the chair and returned her hand to her side. He glanced her way, sideways and smiled before turning back to continue his steady gaze into nothing.

So far so good. She perched herself on the edge of his desk and once again reached out a hand. This time she rested it lightly between his shoulder, with her fingertips on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes briefly at the touch, seemingly savouring the moment, and then swivelled around to face her while he grabbed her hand, making sure she couldn't retreat.

He smiled at her then. A genuine, loving, appreciative smile.

"I'll be alright. I promise." He finally reassured her.

"I just want to make sure of that."

"You do. Every day."

She smiled at him then. She loved those rare times when he managed to say exactly the right thing.

"Do you need to be alone?"

He seemed to give the question genuine thought before finally deciding on, "nah".

"I missed you."

"I was only gone three days," he smiled.

"I know…", she paused. Hesitated, really. "…I… I was worried about you."

"Yeah, me too!" he laughed.

"Terrified, for you actually," she admitted. "Emily too. I don't know how she managed to get into the lab at the worst possible time, but she is your daughter."

"Yes she is. Not your fault she got in, love. She told me all about it. She's actually pretty upset with you still for lying to her again."

Gillian looked crushed, although she already knew it was true. Cal stood then to look her in the eye.

"You did the right thing. She knows that, deep down. She'll get over it quick enough. She loves you."

Gillian was anything but convinced, but accepted his comfort.

"Come on then."

"Hmmm?"

He grabbed her hand. "That's enough wallowing for us. Let's get out there."

"You want to mingle? At a party? With your employees?"

"Don't be daft. Em's out there with that Dick. Can't let her think she's getting away scott free just because we've all had a rough few days."

"Oh Cal, leave them alone," she protested as he dragged her towards the door.

~~0~~

They mingled. They laughed. They teased Loker a little, and they even got Emily joking and teaming up with Gillian again. The tension was still there. Cal had almost been killed, halfway across the world while they stood and watched in glitchy Technicolor. Of course the tension was still there. Especially given how well they'd all been getting along recently. A weird little family, best friends, partners in business, uncomfortably platonic, and on the brink of figuring out what they actually were. Emily was smart. Not only did she know there was something brewing between her father and his best friend, but she was clearly happy to lean into it. Cal was ignoring it; Gillian was afraid she didn't fully understand the potential reality of where this could end up. Gillian was afraid of where this could end up. But after the last few days, she just needed him close, consequences be damned.

Cal's mood steadily improved over the course of the evening. Less and less haunted by recent days and less recent years, he laughed more, he smiled more, and he openly showed his affection for the women in the room he had come to like and those he loved. He chatted comfortably with Torres. He danced with Anna. He hugged Emily every time she crossed his path and sternly told her to behave with a glimmer of indulgent humor in his eye. And he could scarcely keep his eyes off Gillian.

She was across the room smiling, laughing and chatting away with Loker and a few of the tech team when he decided that ten minutes of not being within touching distance was long enough. He sauntered across to the small congregation of what could only be described as nerds - and he included Gill in that - and stopped beside her with a misbehaving hand run low across her back. She didn't even flinch. It could only be him. She immediately turned her wide smiling eyes his way. He hadn't had a plan. And he didn't really want to talk to Loker and nerds. He wanted to talk with Gillian. To be close to Gillian, really. The talking was optional. While they were never short of conversation, small talk, deep and meaningful chats, general life discussions or casual chit chat; they didn't need it. They were as comfortable just being in the same space as one another as they were filling the air with talking.

He had been putting in the effort tonight for her. For Emily. And for his own mental health. He knew it was the best thing to do. Mingle, chat, dance, and don't drink too much. But the Christmas party had been going on for hours now, and he was getting tired. So he just wanted his best friend. And here she was. Open, happy, and just as much in need of his company. He didn't bother excusing himself, or even greeting the small group he was interrupting. He ran the hand at the base of her spine back towards himself and on its way made sure to grab her wrist as he walked backwards with a jerk of his head towards the centre of the room, the improvised dance floor.

"C'mon," was all he said.

She shook her head at him with an air of affection, but followed him, nonetheless. Once they reached the edge of the space where everyone who cared to dance was dancing, he stopped walking and kept pulling her into his space. The hand that had captured her wrist now drifted to clasp her hand, extending out slightly away from their bodies. His other and came up from his side to brush against hers and wrap carefully around her waist. At the same time, while she coyly ducked her head as she stepped right up into his personal space, she trailed her free hand up to caress the full length of his arm until it found it's temporary home around the back of his neck. This time last year, and the year before that, and the year before that, they had danced just like this, but without the unspoken tension that crackled between them now. Alec hated to dance. Even a slow dance made him self conscious. So, each year since they began hosting office Christmas parties, they danced at least once. Zoe got over it after the first year. Alec was oblivious to the very notion that his wife would cheat, and to his credit he was right. In previous years, this dance had felt very different to them. They never allowed the idea of anything more to creep into this moment. That was last year. The year before. The last several months had tested them. Rather than tear them apart, as the stresses of their respective marriages had done, all of the trials and tribulations they had faced only served to draw them together.

Now, there was something new. Something that had been slowly building for a while, but in this moment, holding onto one another in a crowded room that had suddenly faded into distant white noise, there was no more denying. They both felt it the instant their eyes met.

Judy Garland's velvet voice rang out, singing "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and Gillian joined in with perfect harmony singing only for Cal, "Let your heart be light".

The sudden seriousness that had befallen him disappeared in an instant and his face broke into a wide grin.

"You picked the music then, I presume?"

She smiled back and answered, "Emily helped actually. She's got some great taste, no thanks to you".

"I'll have you know, I have fabulous taste in music. Just, not Christmas music."

The comfortable silence that fell between them next led them to lean a little closer, and Gillian decided then that it was a ridiculous and uncomfortable pretence to hold such a formal dancing posture. She unclasped his hand and moved her own to join the other behind his neck. Leaving him nothing to do but fully embrace her in a loose but intimate hug as they swayed, and she dropped her head into the crook of his neck. He closed his eyes and savoured the moment, savouring it all the more when she raised her head back up to rest their foreheads together. They moved together, perfectly in sync, for a minute. Murmuring to each other every now and then when she would sing into his face and he would joke or answer back as if she'd spoken in earnest and not just sung to him her favourite Christmas song. They went on like this for most of the song until an unknown force came over him and without really giving it the same level of thought and second guessing that he usually did, he just moved. He moved forward. Or more precisely, he pulled her subtly closer and then, sure he'd heard some kind of noise of agreement from her lips, he leaned in and bumped his mouth into hers. She did not leave him hanging. The second he moved she reacted, their surroundings forgotten, and she grasped his bottom lip between hers. The kiss was unexpectedly sweet. Which was just as well really given the setting. If anyone had asked and they'd dared to impart honesty on such a conversation, they both would have admitted a presumption that their first honest kiss would have been nothing like this. Spur of the moment? Sure. Obviously. Sweet, soft, tender and filled with love? More like drunken, passionate and lusty with a hope for sweet and tender after the initial panic.

But no. As it turned out, their first honest, genuine, real life kiss was in front of everyone they worked with every day and his daughter, and it was so sweet anyone who was looking at that exact moment – which was only about 4 people with enough sense not to draw attention to it, luckily enough – probably got diabetes just from exposure.

Sweet and tender as it was, they lingered. They didn't rush it, but nor did they draw it out. The moment their tongues brushed and lust threated, they broke apart. All at once they remembered where they were, and all at once while they made sure to reign themselves in, they also by simultaneous agreement tightened their grip on each other.

They continued to dance, finishing out the song. It was one of her favorites after all. On the finishing notes she pressed her mouth to his ear and said, "Let's try not to make this look like we're running off to screw in the restroom, huh?"

She'd caught him completely off guard with that one, but he was nothing if not inappropriately quick witted. "Lab?"

She laughed, but she still slapped him on the back of the head. Then she leaned back to look at him, trying to gauge how he really felt about what was happening. Good. Definitely good. And not just the trauma talking; the real Cal Lightman was front and centre.

"I'm going to go the ladies room. I'll meet you in your library in three minutes."

"And then?"

"Then we can make out for a while before we have a very serious conversation, and then you take your daughter home."

"And then?"

"Then, if we're still on the same page, you're taking me out for dinner next week."

"And tomorrow?"

"… tomorrow is Christmas, Cal."

"Yeah. And your plans are?"

"Food, football, home, pyjamas… you know this."

"But, now you can change your mind about spending Christmas with us."

"I'm doing dinner at Ben's tomorrow. You're hosting Zoe tomorrow. You can't just spring this on her on Christmas, Emily'll flat out refuse to spend the holidays with either one of you ever again after the nuclear sized fight that would cause."

"She'll be fine."

The patented Gillian Foster glare, the one specially designed for him, stopped him in his tracks.

"Fine. Go pee. I'll be slowly undressing in my office."

"You're such a dork."

"See if you still think that twenty minutes from now."

"Promises, promises," she sang as she walked away with a squeeze to his arm and a peck on his lips.

He watched her until he became suddenly aware that he was staring, then he glanced around as if he suddenly remembered where he was. Nobody was looking. He suspected that at least one or two of them had been until he started paying attention. Beginning to make his move, he caught sight of Emily. She was talking with the boyfriend. Animated enough that he was pretty sure she was being good. Nothing to worry about there. He made a quick beeline for his office. He knew he'd win her over. Maybe not for Christmas day, but he was certain he could convince her to come over after dinner instead of heading home. After Zoe left. No funny business. He could promise that with Emily at home, but for sure he wanted to see her. She could even take the spare room, although he hoped she wouldn't. This would work. Finally, they could make it work.


This was obviously a Fork In The Road Fic for Secret Santa. I have had about a dozen versions of this in my head for weeks now, so it took me a while to just finally write one down and go with it. I promise, I am still trying to find the time to work on the Season 4 fics. I really am. This is the first time I've had to work on a computer for non work related stuff in forever. I'll get time eventually!