A/N: My original draft of this story contained only the very last part of dialogue. I've added a lot to this so I hope it all works.

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I just love them so much I like to borrow them!


As Gillian Foster was walking toward the exit of The Lightman Group, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of Cal's voice.

"Oiy! What are you all dressed up for? You weren't wearing that earlier."

The new outfit was in fact a drastic change from the more casual black dress Gillian was wearing earlier. There was no doubting the black dress was quite flattering, but this outfit… Well this outfit seemed to hug her tighter. Better. Yes, this dress was definitely better than the black one. A woman was always more alluring in red. And the neckline was doing nothing to persuade Cal's eyes to look away. Not to mention those heels! Where did those come from?

"Really, Cal?"

This snapped Cal back to reality. He was unsure what her question was aimed at. Was it aimed at him soaking in every inch of her or at him questioning her getting dressed up in the first place?

"I just wanted to get dressed up. That's all." Though I'm glad to see you noticed.

"Where you off to?"

A pause. Gillian wasn't entirely sure she wanted to tell him. She could use some time to think. After staring him down for a moment and deciding his company would be nice, she caved.

"One Eleven, if you must know," Gillian stated, standing a little taller.

"The new pub?" Cal inquired tilting his head to the side in confusion. Why is she going to a pub alone? Maybe she's not going alone…

"It is not a pub, Cal. It's a very nice restaurant with a bar inside. And I want a drink."

"Mind if I join you?"

Another pause, this one longer than the first. Why is she just staring at me like that?

Suddenly, Gillian turned on her heel and began to walk away without acknowledging Cal's last question. She took two steps, stopped, and turned to face him again.

He could see she was having some sort of strange internal debate. 'Mind if I join you?' seemed like a simple enough question to him.

"You can meet me there in half an hour."

At this, Cal was very confused. "It's right around the corner, luv."

"Yes, I know that, but you can't go there dressed like that. Go home and change. I'll see you in half an hour."

Change? What's wrong with what I'm wearing? Cal looked down at himself and examined his attire. Whatever, he thought, at least she didn't turn me down.


30 minutes later...

After hurrying home to change into something along the same lines of formalness as Gillian's new dress, Cal walked into One Eleven and was quite impressed with the place. The walls were a nice shade of deep red with accents of browns and whites. It was nothing new, but not entirely similar to every other joint in town. It was elegantly decorated, chic even.

As he was taking in all his surroundings, he suddenly became very impressed at the sight of the bar. It was made entirely of a beautiful, dark wood and it appeared to have hand carvings on the front of it. Maybe that's why it held his attention. Or maybe it was the fact that one Gillian Foster was sitting at said bar. He hadn't really noticed the back of her dress earlier. It had a swooped back. Not too low, but low enough for Cal to be sure she wasn't wearing a bra. That dress is quite uncharacteristically Gillian… Something he did notice earlier, but he did not fail to notice again, was what those heels did to her legs. She should wear heels like that more often.

Cal suddenly noticed a strong feeling in the pit of his stomach that left him longing to touch her back. Or run his hands up her legs. Or see what kind of perfume she was wearing. After only a few moments, Cal decided allowing these feelings to brew was unwise. It was at that point he noticed an untouched drink to Gillian's left and decided he'd stood in the middle of the restaurant for long enough. It was definitely time to sit down before he found the courage to act on that feeling in the pit of his stomach.

As he sat down, Gillian stared in her drink and didn't acknowledge the arrival of her business partner and best friend. Cal noted she had both hands wrapped around the drink, and he could see she was deep in thought about something. He looked at her with his head tilted to the side like he does when he's reading someone. He held his head in that same position and allowed his eyes to lazily wander down to the bar and the drink in front of him and away from her face before he finally brought his head back to center.

Neither one spoke for a moment. Then out of no where, Gillian broke the silence.

Breaking her gaze from her drink and looking straight ahead she asked, "Why do you call me 'luv'?" She had her eyes squinted slightly in curiosity.

Cal immediately looked at Gillian who still looked ahead and said, "I call a lot of people 'luv', luv."

"Mmm," she said smirking. "Mostly women."

Cal smiled at this. "Well, yeah. Can you imagine me calling Loker 'luv'? That'd be a bit awkward, don't you think?"

"I suppose," she laughed. That's a very unsatisfying answer.

"Besides, it's not all women. Just ones I find attractive." As he said this, he studied her face to see what she thought about the statement.

Leaving her drink on the bar, Gillian spun her chair so her whole body was facing Cal, legs crossed at the ankles and kicked slightly to the side. She was sitting tall and confident with a glimmer in her eye and her hands folded in her lap.

"You call Emily 'luv'," she stated matter-of-factly.

Shrugging, Cal said, "Yeah, well she's my daughter. Can't fault me for that."

"So, attractive women and your daughter. That's who you call 'luv'." Gillian was looking him right in the eye. She raised her chin a little and allowed her left shoulder to drop slightly as she made her last statement and tilted her head toward the right.

Not sure what was going on, but not wanting to lose if this was a game, Cal didn't break eye contact.

"Yeah. The women I call 'luv' are either attractive, or someone I care about immensely."

Gillian straightened out her posture, pulling her still crossed ankles to center and tilting her head down so she was staring deeply in Cal's eyes.

"So which am I?"

At this Cal stopped. His breathing halted as he looked at her to see if that was a serious question. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a glimpse of a teasing smile at the corner of her mouth, but was gone in an instant. She now looked as serious as ever, game face firmly in place. Finally he responded.

"Oh no! You're not roping me into that," Cal stated while pointing a finger at her. "That's a trick question Foster, and you know it! Either I end up saying you're attractive and I don't care about you, or you'll assume I'm saying you're unattractive! I can't win at this one." Cal put his hands up, palms toward her in a slightly defensive gesture.

"You dug yourself a hole. It's not my fault," Gillian stated dead-pan as she swiveled back to facing the bar.

"Oh please. You led me right to a hole you had already dug! You were just waiting for me to fall in."

Gillian glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and took a long drink. He didn't answer my question.


A/N: I'm not sure if I want to continue with this. Thoughts?