Disclaimer: I own nothing.

So… this story just came to me in a bolt of inspiration this afternoon, and I just had to get writing it… hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it ;-)

Confessions

It was late – Cal wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but he knew that he and Gillian were the only ones left in the Lightman Group. Having had a strenuous, but ultimately rewarding, day, they were in Cal's office, working their way through a bottle of brandy to celebrate. Both knew the other had nowhere else they needed to be – no one waiting for them at home anymore – and, being able to read each other as well as they could, neither had to openly confess that drinking and laughing with each other was the perfect way for them both to be spending the evening.

Their conversation had meandered its way through various topics, from work, to Emily, to the new rom-com Gillian wanted to see ("looks like a load of slushy rubbish, love, if I'm honest"), to relationships. Enough alcohol had been consumed for them both to feel slightly light headed, if not drunk, and that boldness that comes with being slightly tipsy was setting in.

Foster had dodged his question about whether she was dating again yet, although he could tell from her face that she wasn't, and she now sat there, munching happily on a bar of chocolate that she'd decided, after her third drink, that she just "had to have right now." He broke the silence. "What's your fantasy, then?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Your fantasy, your fetish… what does it for you?" He watched with amusement as her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You know, for some women it's men in uniform, for other it's, I don't know… whipped cream…" His eyes glinted wickedly. "So what's yours, Dr Foster?"

She didn't say anything for a minute, and he expected her to make some excuse or change the subject. To his surprise, she said, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Cal considered this. "That's fair enough I suppose. Okay. Mine is… food."

"Food?"

"Food," he repeated. "I like seeing a woman enjoy food. I like feeding her, and being fed by her. I like sharing food… licking food off her body, having her eat food off mine…" Gillian felt her heart rate increase rapidly, and was certain her arousal was written all across her face. "Certain kinds of food work better than others of course, but when I see a woman eating something like… chocolate…" he let his eyes drift to the piece of cocoa-y goodness in Foster's hand, "I can't help but think about her in a sexual way."

"So that grandmother on the soup advert who licks her lips and says "Mmm… the grandkids will love this!" turns you on?" she asked him playfully.

He chuckled. "Sadly not. Guess it doesn't work 100% of the time… only with women I already find attractive."

For a long time, they stared at each other. Then, as she felt the chocolate start to melt in her hand, Gillian lifted it to her lips, feeling Cal's eyes on her as she popped it in her mouth. Licking her lips and then her finger to remove the melted chocolate, she flicked her gaze back to Cal, noticing his pupils were fully dilated and he was licking his lips.

"I think," he said slowly, "you'll find I've made my confession, in full. Which means it's time for you to keep up your end of the bargain."

Never taking her eyes off his, Gillian answered, "Okay. Mine's water."

"Water?" he repeated, in the same way she'd echoed his confession of food. "Explain, Foster. Slowly, and with lots of examples." He winked at her.

She shrugged. "Men look good wet. When they've just stepped out of the shower, or the pool... ever wondered why girls like lifeguards, Cal?" She smiled playfully. "And have you seen Casino Royale? Daniel Craig stepping out the water…" She closed her eyes, and Cal frowned slightly as thoughts of Daniel Craig invaded his mind, all tall and blond – two things that Cal definitely wasn't. "And rain," she continued, opening her eyes. "Seeing droplets of rain in his hair, watching the way it runs down his face and body…" She trailed off, lost in thought, and Cal couldn't help but be surprised. He'd expected Gillian to say something more girly and romantic, like candles or a bubble bath. Well, I suppose with this water thing, a bath would do it for her, he thought, amused.

Just then, they heard a brisk knock on the door. Wondering who could be in the building at this time, Cal called "Come in." He noticed Gillian straighten in her chair, trying to resume her professional demeanour, and he tried to suppress a laugh.

Loker came ambling in, a large envelope in his hands. He was wearing a light jacket, but was soaking wet, his curly hair plastered to his face, drops of water running down his cheeks and neck.

"Raining out, is it?" Cal asked mildly. "Quick then, Foster, out you go – wouldn't want the hungry kid to miss a trip to the candystore." Gillian shot Cal a venomous look, and avoided Loker's questioning gaze, although it looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"Those photos, you wanted, for the Banbridge case…" Loker waved the envelope he was carrying. "I just picked them up, and thought you might want to see them tonight, so…" He walked forwards, and put the envelope in Cal's outstretched hand.

"So you braved the rain to come here and deliver them in person, that's very noble of you. I'm sure Dr Foster will be eternally grateful."

"Shut up!" she hissed, but the corners of her mouth were turned up, telling Cal she was more amused than annoyed.

"Right," Loker said, still confused. "I'll just… go, then. See you tomorrow."

"Night," Gillian said, managing to meet his eyes at last.

"Night, Loker," Cal said, as his employee shook his head, and turned and walked out of the office. After the click of the door, both waited, listening to the sound of Loker's footsteps fade gradually, before bursting into giggles.

"That do anything for you, love?"

"Shut up." She continued to giggle. "I guess mine also only works with men I'm already attracted to."

"So if I stuck my head out the window right now, would that do anything for you?" His eyes sparkled mischievously.

"We're on the fifth floor, Cal. The windows don't open for safety reasons."

"Deflection." He grinned, and walked around the desk, sitting himself on the edge of it, facing Foster, their legs now inches apart. She made no attempt to move.

"Alright then, I'll improvise." He spun around, grabbing a bottle of water off the desk.

"Cal," she giggled. "What are you…"

Unscrewing the lid, he hesitated for only a fraction of a second before tilting the bottle, which was at least half full, and emptying it over his head.

"Bloody hell," he spluttered, as the water drenched his face and neck, soaking into his shirt. "That's cold." He shook his head like a dog who'd just been swimming, sending droplets of water flying over Gillian.

"Hey!" She scolded him. "You're making me wet."

"Am I now? Mission accomplished." He grinned devilishly at her. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks, and hesitated slightly. Yes, she'd wanted this for a long time. Yes, she'd often thought about her and Cal taking things to another level. Yes, they had been flirting outrageously tonight, more than ever before. Yes, he did look good wet… very, very good… She felt her breath hitch as she lowered her eyes, seeing the water soak into his shirt. But if they did this, there'd be no going back… things would change forever…

Meeting his eyes again, Gillian saw the intense arousal on his face. To hell with it, she thought, unable to stave off the temptation any longer. Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips against his, wondering if being with Cal would be as good as she'd always imagined it to be. He started kissing her back, as she knew he would, and his hands rubbed up and down her arms.

For the first few seconds, the kiss was soft and tender. Then Cal's desire swept over him as the torrent of passion that had been pent up for years came pouring out of him, and his tongue demanded entry. Gillian moaned with surprise and pleasure at the passion surging between them, and the vocal evidence of her arousal coupled with the passionate way she returned his intensified kiss turned Cal on even more.

He'd obeyed this line for years, they both had – ignoring any signs of arousal they saw from each other, flirting playfully but harmlessly, continuing (and strengthening) their friendship, but never allowing things to get too far. Now… to hell with the line. This was what he wanted, what he needed. As he felt her prise his buttons open and push the shirt off his shoulders, her nails scraping down his chest, Cal had a feeling that Gillian Foster might just be the only thing he'd ever really needed.

He reached his hands under her blouse, desperate to feel bare skin, but found the material too tight to be able to properly slide his hands underneath. As he tugged at it in frustration, she broke the kiss, laughing, and quickly undid her buttons and shrugged the blouse off. Resuming the kiss, Cal stroked her stomach, and felt her shiver. His desire for her was cursing through his veins, but as desperate as he was to satisfy his sexual urges, this moment was about so much more than just that, for both of them. Yes, he wanted her in his arms and his bed, yes he'd been sexually attracted to her since the day they met, but over the years, something else had happened. It had occurred so gradually, Cal couldn't pinpoint the moment it had actually happened, although the moment he'd realised it was still imprinted on his mind as strongly as the day Emily was born or the day he and Zoe had married.

They'd been eating out at a Thai restaurant, celebrating the completion of a tricky, and long, case. Just chatting, as they always did, about this and that, and everything in between. Then, a guy across the room had proposed to his girlfriend, who had accepted. Everyone had started clapping, although Cal's applause had a little less enthusiasm than everyone else's.

"Aww," she'd said, smiling brightly, "that's so sweet."

"Probably end in divorce," Cal had commented, munching on his food.

"You're such a cynic." Her laughter floated across the table, the same laugh he'd heard a thousand times before, but at that moment, taking on a more musical quality. Glancing up at her, seeing her eyes shining, her face relaxed, the smile of joy and optimism on her face, there was only one thought going through Cal's mind, and it wasn't I want to kiss her, which was a thought that frequently bounced around his mind when in Gillian's presence. I love this woman, popped into his head instead. Surprised for only half a second, it then immediately made sense. Of course he loved Gillian Foster. And in the moment that Cal realised that, he also realised that he was stupid for not having seen it before.

Now that he was actually kissing her, ripping her clothes off and about to devour her the way he'd dreamt of so many times, Cal remembered the moment of clarity he'd had in that restaurant, and the need to explain something took over. Breaking away from her kiss, he grabbed her wrists, stilling her hands which were busily working his belt loose.

"Foster," he said, breathlessly, and she lifted her eyes to him. Fear and doubt were written all over her face – undoubtedly, she thought he was going to tell her they should stop. Although how you could think any man could be kissed like that and then just stop… he thought wryly. Loosening his grip on her wrists so as not to hurt her, he gently lifted one hand to her face. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Yes?" Her voice was higher than usual, and she swallowed as she waited for his confession.

"I'm in love with you." There, he'd said it. He watched as her face registered surprise, then delight.

"You're in love with me?" she repeated, as if there were any possibility that she'd misheard him.

"Yes, love," he whispered. "I've wanted you since the day I met you, and ever since that day I've fallen a little bit more in love with you. I just wanted you to know that, so you don't think this is just…"

"A one night stand?" He nodded, and Gillian let out a sigh that was somewhere between relief and amusement. "I don't want that either, Cal. I want this to be the start of something. Us."

"It can be." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "It will be."

"Well, it won't be if we don't get on with it, will it?" She giggled.

Chuckling, Cal placed her hands back on his belt. "As you were, then."

Gillian grinned, and resumed undressing him. As his pants and boxers fell to the floor, Cal grabbed her, pressing his lips to hers again and turning them round. Holding onto her back with one hand, he reached behind her with his other hand and swept the contents of his desk, minus his computer, onto the floor. Gillian detached her lips from his, laughing.

"I've always wanted to do that." He grinned at her, then lifted her up so she was sitting on the desk, and gently leant her backwards until she was laying across it. "God, you're gorgeous," he murmured, stroking her legs as he ran his hands up them. He pulled her skirt down over her hips, and she wriggled in anticipation and frustration when he removed his hands from her skin to drop her skirt on the floor. "Really, bloody gorgeous," he said, lightly stroking her legs again, inching his fingertips closer to her thighs. She reached down and grabbed his hair, moaning in pleasure when he replaced his hands with his lips. Tracing a line of kisses along her thighs, he reached up and slid her underwear down her legs in a fast yet fluid motion.

He trailed a line of kisses up her stomach to her breasts, sucking each in turn as he used his hand to explore between her legs, delighting at the warmth and wetness he found there.

"Cal…" The sound of her saying his name in that incredibly sexy way spurred him on, and he moved his lips up her chest, sucking on her neck, before travelling to her ear and gently biting her earlobe. "Cal…" she moaned again, hooking her legs behind him and pulling him closer. Cal pulled her towards him so she was sitting up, shifting his lips from her ear to her mouth, pressing his tongue inside.

She ran her hands over his chest, the gentle scraping of her nails sending waves of pleasure down his spine. Cal continued to massage between her legs, loving the way she wriggled excitedly at his touch. Without breaking lip contact, he slipped a finger inside her, stroking her with the same rhythm he used to kiss her.

"God," she broke for air, flinging her head back, her hair flying behind her. "I need you inside me, Cal. Now."

"Thought I was, love," he said, inserting another finger and grinning wickedly at her.

Gripping his shoulders tightly, Gillian struggled to form words. "You know what I mean."

He removed his fingers, and Gillian sighed softly from the loss of contact, but felt a rush of excitement at the pleasure that was to come.

Feeling his erection pressing against her thigh, Gillian wondered why it had taken them so long to get to this moment. They'd both wanted it, hadn't they? For a long time – a very long time, it seemed. Her thoughts were interrupted as Cal finally entered her, and Gillian thrust her hips up, marvelling at the feel of him inside her, filling her completely.

"Wow," he breathed, the sensation of her warmth and wetness surrounding him threatening to overwhelm him. He thrust into her again, her cries of pleasure spurring him on. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, clawing her nails up his back and neck, and running her fingers through his hair. "You feel so good," he told her, increasing the rhythm as she met him thrust for thrust, craving more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving her.

She merely nodded, unable to put into words how good it felt to have him inside her. She could feel her orgasm building, and wondered how close Cal was. She couldn't remember a time where she'd ever come first during sex – but then, had she ever been with a man who'd turned her on as much as Cal? Definitely not.

"Foster…" he panted, and she could tell he was close. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him towards her, crashing her lips against his and stroking inside his mouth with her tongue. If he hadn't been close before, the added pleasure of Gillian's fierce but sweet kiss would have done it. Feeling himself start to go over the edge, he broke away slightly and breathed her name. She moaned his in return, feeling her own release closing in on her.

"Yes… yes… yes," she cried out, as with one final thrust he emptied himself inside her, and waves of pleasure went coursing through her entire body as she came at the same time. Simultaneous orgasm was never something that had happened with Alec, or any of her lovers before him. Not that she wanted to think about Alec now. This night was all about Cal.

"Damn," he said, as he slowly pulled out of her, and looked into her eyes. "That was…"

"Yeah, it was," she said, not even needing to hear what he was going to say. He collapsed onto the desk next to her, and for a few moments they lay side by side, his hand resting lazily on her stomach, hers still in his hair, as their heart rates gradually decreased.

"That was sexy as hell, don't get me wrong, but I think I prefer the bed for afterwards." Cal rapped on the desk. "Desk's a bit hard, you know?"

Gillian giggled. "I don't care."

"No?"

"Nope." She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest. "Who needs pillows and sheets when you've got this?" She lightly traced circles on his chest, and he sighed contently.

"True, but a mattress wouldn't go amiss, eh?" She chuckled. "We should have done it in your office, you've got that couch that I always thought looked so comfortable."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Cal Lightman," she said, pushing herself up so she was resting on her elbows, "are you saying that you've imagined having sex with me before on the couch in my office?"

"Maybe once or twice." He pretended to think about it. "Actually, probably more like thirty or forty times."

Gillian laughed. "Oh well… next time," she said, and Cal grinned.

"Sounds like a plan to me, love."

She laid back down, but rolled onto her side, entangling her legs with his. They stayed like that for a while, and Cal couldn't remember a time he'd felt happier.

"Cal…" Her words broke the stillness in the room.

"Yes, love?"

"There's something I have to confess."

"Yes?"

She lifted her head off his chest, locking her eyes on his, and gently traced the shape of his face with her fingertip. "I love you too," she whispered, leaning in to kiss his temple.

Cal smiled, and wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her tight, certain of one thing – he wasn't about to let her go.

###

"Morning Dr Foster." Loker greeted her somewhat warily the next morning.

"Good morning, Loker." She smiled as she walked past him and headed to her office.

"Dr Lightman said to tell you he's going to be out all day, dealing with the Banbridge case." Loker called after her.

"Oh. Okay." She tried to swallow her disappointment, and disappeared into her office, dumping her bag on the floor by her desk.

A small gold box sat on top of her desk, and Gillian snatched it up, gazing at it curiously before ripping it open. Inside sat four chocolate truffles, and a note.

Meet me in West Park at 7pm. You might want an umbrella – looks like rain.

Gillian smiled as she ran her fingers over the note, then reached into the box for one of the truffles. As the chocolate started to melt in her mouth, she closed her eyes, sighing slightly, then opened her eyes and glanced at the clock on her desk. Almost 9am. 10 hours to go.