Gillian had a raging case of guilt

He had asked if she had wanted to grab a bite with him, but she turned him down, citing too much work. Looking dejected, Cal had nodded slightly, mumbled an acknowledgement, turned heel and left.

All because of Helen's words reverberating in her mind. "He's not one for the long haul…"

She had distanced herself all because of the other woman's comments. He needed her and she had let him down. Her best friend.

Shame flushed over her face. He had endured torture and had come close to dying at the hands of that psychopath tonight only to be presented with an uncaring façade from her. What had she been thinking?

Gillian pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk and grabbed her phone. Hit direct dial. Rang 5 times before going to voice mail. Her brow crinkled with worry. Tried again with the same result. Hopefully he's just at home ignoring the phone and not out getting himself into trouble. Knowing him, it was the latter. Damn.

She grabbed her coat and switched off the lights on the way out.

(BREAK)

Gillian went by his house in the dim hope that he was there.

His car was in the driveway, and she allowed herself to relax slightly. Not that that necessarily meant anything – he could have taken a cab. Only one way to find out.

She parked behind him and followed the path to his front door. Gillian knocked and waited. Knocked again. A knot began to form in the pit of her stomach as images of a broken, bloody Cal flickered through her mind. Bar fights seemed to be one of his specialties when he was upset. He was like a powder keg; the smallest infraction would set him off. He was slight but he'd been known to take down much larger men, not before getting his own head kicked in a bit though. Gillian paused a moment longer before turning to leave. That's when she heard the door open. She spun around to find him staring at her. Sure enough, he had a shiner and a cut over his right eye. A quiet sigh escaped her lips. "Cal."

He regarded her through heavy lids, his expression unreadable. Nonetheless, he opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow her access to his home.

She moved past him into the foyer before he quietly shut the door behind her.

"Gillian." His voice was raspy, ever so slightly slurred with alcohol.

Her eyes roamed over him, noting exhaustion but little else. "I just wanted to stop by and check on you. I was a little worried."

"Why?"

She blinked. "Why what?"

"Why now? You didn't seem overly concerned earlier." A coldness had crept into his eyes. The neutral expression was slipping into anger.

Wincing inwardly, she made herself look directly at him. "I'm sorry Cal. You know I care. I just - " She suddenly felt awkward.

"Did Helen say something to you?" He cocked his head to the side.

Gillian didn't say anything. Didn't really know what to say.

"She did, didn't she?" He moved closer, not breaking eye contact. "What did she say?" His voice was very low, almost dangerous.

She bit her lip, decided to be honest. "Helen made some…. assumptions about our relationship."

One brow twitched slightly upward. "Not the first time that's happened, luv, is it? What else did she say?"

"She said that you weren't one for the long haul."

Confusion settled in his features for just a moment before being replaced with something else. It was fleeting, gone before she could identify it.

"Ironic, isn't it?" The anger had left his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Gill – I was only one in hundreds when it comes to Helen. And she's warning you about me?"

"Well…yeah." She felt a bit flustered, noting the growing amusement on Cal's face.

He watched the blush spread across her face, decided to add to it. "Why would it matter to you anyway, darlin'? What long haul would she be referring to? Aren't we just partners who happen to be friends?"

She was boxed into a corner, literally (her back was pressed against the wall) and figuratively. His face was inches from hers, waiting. Gillian opened her mouth to say something but couldn't figure what that something would be. She quickly closed it.

With a smile playing upon his lips, Cal let her off the hook. He stepped back and strided toward the kitchen. "Want something to eat? I'm not really up to cooking but I have an extensive list of phone numbers for take out places."

She hadn't realized that she'd been holding her breath. She let it out slowly, feeling her knees tremble slightly. He was right. Why did Helen's comment get under her skin so much? After just a moment, she shakily followed him.

(BREAK)

An hour later, they were eating Chinese food in front of the t.v. The news was on but neither one really paid any attention. Gillian had kicked off her heels and was curled on the couch, feet folded beneath her, while Cal sprawled at the other end. They ate in silence, both lost in their own quiet reflections.

A moment later, a story about the arrest of a young man blared across the screen. Both startled, Gillian cast a long look at Cal. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared at the television, breath becoming slightly ragged. A slight sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Gillian hit the 'off' button on the remote. Fresh guilt poured through her as she observed him. "I'm so sorry Cal." Tears threatened at the corner of her eyes.

"Bastard still owes me $200." A whisper with a hint of forced bravado.

She scooted closer and gently wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened initially at the contact but gradually relaxed into her embrace. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see what you saw but I should have given you the benefit of the doubt." Her tears started to fall. "I'm so very sorry." She pressed her lips against his temple as his head lolled against her shoulder. Holding him felt right, even with the unspoken acknowledgement that she was usually the one on the receiving end.

"Is this the long haul Gillian?" He sat up straighter, pulling out of her arms but meeting her eyes. "You're always there for me, even when your good sense says otherwise."

He watched the tears trail down her face, before reaching over and wiping a few gently away. "What do you say, luv?"

Gillian wasn't exactly sure what he was asking her. She scrutinized him, taking in the weathered but handsome face, the stubble that frequently adorned his cheeks and those deep hazel eyes that tended to shift in color depending on his mood. Right now they had settled into a warm brown. A loving brown.

Her breath caught, her own feelings twisting into confusion. Why had Helen's comment bothered her so much? Because she was terrified that it could be true.

As she stared at him, she wondered where her faith should lie. This wonderful, outrageous, maddening but loving man that she's known for 7 years or the ex-lover of same said man. Feeling suddenly lightheaded, she giggled at the absurdity of the dilemma.

It was now Cal's turn to be confused. "Gill?" He started to say something more but was silenced with a searing kiss. His eyes widened briefly before succumbing to the wonderful sensation. His arms wrapped around her waist and she pushed harder into him, her hands firm but gentle in his hair. He fell backward into the couch cushions, Gillian perched upon his chest. The kiss broke as they stared at one another, breathing hard.

Her hair framed her face as she stared down at him, blue eyes sparkling. "You know that I just might love you Dr. Lightman."

He reached up, pushing her hair behind one ear. "Aren't you afraid?" His voice was barely a breath, but his fingers continued to play gently with her hair. "Or are you done being afraid?" It was almost a challenge.

"Are you?"

Cal shifted, allowing her body to nestle between him and the back of the couch. One small hand rested upon his chest, right over his heart as he cradled her to him. "Terrified, luv."

She looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because I love you too damned much."