So, I was using coconut suncream (sunscreen to you Americans) a while ago, and commenting on how nice it was, and then... well. #coconutsuncreamtiems was born and kind of snowballed, and this fic eventually arrived. Happy CFS Monday!

Disclaimer: I own a bottle of coconut suncream, but I don't own anything to do with Lie to Me.


Gillian knotted her turquoise sarong at her hip and was just reaching for the bottle of suntan lotion when she heard the knock at the door.

"You ready, Foster?"

"Almost," she called, crossing the room and opening the door to let him in. She saw the flicker of arousal cross his face when he saw her in her bikini, even if part of her legs were covered by the sarong. She smiled as she turned around.

"I just have to do my sunscreen."

"Hurry up then."

"You can't rush these things. Anyway, we know Louisa Waters is a sun-worshiper and spends all day by the pool, she'll be there for hours. We're hardly going to miss our opportunity."

"Fine." He sat down on the bed, watching her as she finished rubbing the lotion into her arms. Her hands crossed her chest, rubbing lower and lower. He swallowed. Then she moved her hands to her stomach, but made the mistake of glancing up at him as she did so.



"You're staring." There was a faint smile on her face as she spoke, which of course he saw.


"Didn't anyone tell you it's not polite to stare?"

"Yeah, but I never believed them. What a load of rubbish. People stare for hours at the Mona Lisa."

"I'm hardly the Mona Lisa, Cal," she pointed out with a laugh.

"Couldn't agree more. You're worlds apart. She's really ugly."

She laughed, lifting her sarong up to apply the sunscreen to her legs. Cal's eyes followed her every movement, and she gave him an amused shake of the head.

"What?" he asked in response. "You can't expect me not to stare! You're slathering lotion all over your almost naked body for god's sake Foster – what man would be able to resist staring at that?"

She laughed again, but a blush was rising on her cheeks. He'd always thought it was practically criminal that she didn't know how beautiful she was, but at the same time it only added to her loveliness. He sniffed suddenly, then leant in closer to her and sniffed again.


She nodded. "Nice, isn't it? Gives it all much more of a 'holiday' feel."

"We're here to work, Foster," he reminded her, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, when did we switch roles? Next time we go to Vegas for a case, you'll be telling me we're there for a job while I'm popping off to the casino?"

He grinned. "Maybe."

"Not that there'll be a next time," she added quickly, then handed him the bottle. "Do my back?"

He felt his jaw wanting to drop and struggled to control it, although he emitted a mumbled "what?" that he cursed himself for a second later.

"I can't reach," she explained. "So, can you…" she gestured to the bottle.

"Then I'll smell of coconut."

"So?" She giggled. "It's a nice smell."

"Foster, if we both go out there smelling of coconut, everyone'll think we've been in here shagging."

"They won't think we both just happen to have the same sunscreen? Or that I leant you some of my sunscreen without you having to shag me first?"

His lips curled up at the sound of her saying the word shag, and it was almost impossible to ignore the fact that, omitting the rest of the sentence, she'd just uttered the words shag me to him.

"Nah, they'll think we've been shagging." Despite this, he took the bottle from her, squeezed a generous amount into his hands and pressed his palms against her back. She jumped slightly from the touch; perhaps because it was cold, or made her jump. Perhaps because it was him touching her. As practical as the other scenarios were, he much preferred the latter.

He slid his hands over her shoulder blades, massaging the lotion in when she let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. His hand stilled for a second, then moved lower on her back, feeling her shiver slightly beneath his touch.

Suddenly, he leant forwards and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. He had no idea why he did it; he'd acted on pure impulse and half expected her to pull away, to tell him to stop, to scold him for crossing that bloody line. She didn't.

Instead she half turned towards him, her eyes locked on the lips that seconds before had brushed her skin, slight hesitation on her face mixed with – was he reading this right? – arousal.

He leant forward tentatively, his hands still stroking across her lower back, and planted another kiss just below her ear. He saw her breath catch slightly, and just as he was about to kiss her neck again she turned towards him fully, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her until their mouths met.

She wasn't sure what made her do it, why her resolve crumbled now when it had always held strong and sure in the past; what was it about that moment, unlike all the other times she'd wanted to kiss him, that made her lean forwards instead of pulling back? She didn't know, and, in that moment, she didn't really care. His hands were in her hair, pulling her closer to him and deepening the kiss, and all she could think in that moment was how good it felt to be kissing him, how right. That and how she hoped he wasn't getting sunscreen in her hair.

His hands slipped lower, and he slid her bikini top straps off her shoulders before pulling back and looking into her eyes, silently asking permission. She responded by reaching behind her, unhooking the top and flinging it to the other side of the room. His eyes widened, and she gave a nervous giggle. He hesitated for only a moment; the thought that she might not really want this was wiped from his mind by the look in her eyes, and he was in no doubt at all as to what he wanted. He pulled his tee shirt off, tossing it to the side then grabbing her face and pulling her lips back to his. She shifted back on the bed, allowing him room to crawl over her, never breaking the kiss. Her hands travelled across his chest, down to his stomach, back up and around his back and onto his shoulder blades. When he pulled his lips away from hers he starting kissing down her neck and across her collarbone. She felt her breath hitch as he reached her breasts, using his hand to stroke and massage one as his lips were lavishing attention on the other. She closed her eyes and let out a half sigh, her hands settling on his shoulders before creeping around the back of his neck and sliding through his hair.

When he stopped, she opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly. He was grinning at her. "You taste like coconut."

She laughed. "Sorry. I'm sure it doesn't taste very nice."

"Nonsense. You're delicious."

"But sunscreen, Cal, I mean, you're not supposed to eat it..."

"You're still delicious." His hands found the knot in her sarong, quickly undoing it and sliding it off her. The smooth material making gentle contact with her skin made her shiver. He tossed it aside and scooted lower down the bed, trailing wet kisses over her stomach and then down her thighs. She moaned in dissatisfaction when he failed to touch her where she wanted, and lifted her hips off the bed slightly. He grinned again. "Getting impatient, love?"

"Yes," she breathed, watching as he slid his hands up her smooth legs before tugging at her bikini bottoms and pulling them off her.

He paused for a moment to stare at her, and she bit her lip. Was she not what he expected? Did he not want to do this anymore? Was she not as sexy as the other women he'd been with? "You are stunning," he told her, and she released her lip as a bashful smile spread across her face. "Really, unbelievably, impossibly gorgeous." He slid up her body, making sure his bare chest came into contact with her breasts, and kissed her again. "Of course, I always knew you were beautiful," he said when he eventually tore his lips from hers. "But now... you're even more gorgeous."

"Thanks," she said softly. She ran her finger lightly over his bottom lip, then lifted her eyes to meet his. "You know how sexy you are, right?"

"I've been told." He grinned, and she swatted at his arm. "But it means nothing coming from anyone else... and everything coming from you."

She reached for the bottle of sunscreen, and before he could protest she'd squeezed some onto her hands and was rubbing it over his chest and shoulders. The scent hit him again, but the feel of her delicate fingers stroking him and squeezing his muscles as she moved down his arms made him wonder why the hell he'd ever considered protesting this.

"Now you smell of coconut too," she whispered with a soft smile.

She felt his lips on her throat and neck again and his hands sliding lower, brushing teasingly against her thighs. She raised her hips, squirming beneath him, and he grinned. "Still impatient?"

"Yes." She continued to writhe beneath him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. He hadn't removed his shorts yet, which hadn't escaped her notice.

"Five minutes ago you wanted me to help you put your suncream on... now look at you." He grinned again, his fingers trailing up and down her legs as she continued to wriggle and moan in protest at his teasing. "Why the sudden change?"

"You kissed me," she breathed. "And it's not like I've never thought about this. Us."

"How often?"

"Finish undressing and I'll tell you."

He darted backwards and she lifted her head, watching him as he stripped off the rest of his clothes before crawling back over her. He hovered above her, his arms either side of her head, his erection pressed against her thigh. He raised his eyebrows at her, silently asking her to answer his question, and she sighed.


"How often?"

"Very often."

She looked into his eyes, and the arousal he saw there made his heart hammer even louder in his chest. He'd wanted her for so long, but he'd never dared believe she'd feel the same. Of course, she cared about him, was there for him, supported him and stayed by his side no matter what. But to reciprocate his attraction, willingly participate in this crossing of the line, lie beneath him on the bed, writhing in anticipation with such lust and want in her eyes... that was more than he could ever have hoped.

She watched him drink her in; reading her expression, calculating her reaction, processing the thoughts. He was still and silent for so long, she was beginning to wonder if he'd forgotten what they were about to do.


"Mmm?" He brushed his lips against hers, a quick kiss landing on her cheek before he met her eyes again.

"Are you done teasing me yet?" She pushed her hips up again, angling her body so his cock brushed against her entrance, and he inhaled sharply.


She murmured her approval when she felt his fingers slide into her, first one then two, gently pushing inside as he used his thumb to rub her clit slowly. He increased his speed when she began to moan his name, and she grabbed his face to pull him close to her for another kiss. The feel of his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth was a new addiction; she couldn't get enough of him.

She pulled back when he withdrew his fingers, shooting him a look that clearly signalled her dissatisfaction. He grinned, watching her face as he entered her slowly. Dissatisfaction turned to delight as she took him in, breathing heavily. He pulled back and pushed in again deeper, stroking her cheek with one hand as she gasped in pleasure. He stilled for a moment when he was fully inside her, revelling in the feeling of her warmth and wetness surrounding him. He began to thrust inside her, slowly at first, building up a rhythm which she quickly matched. She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing and releasing in a way that almost made him lose control way too soon.

She tried to maintain eye contact, loving the way he looked at her as he thrust harder and faster, but the pleasure was building, her legs were starting to quake and she threw her head back on the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping the sheets.


The sound of her moaning his name spurred him on; he brought his hand between them to rub her clit and she gasped, bucking her hips wildly as she climbed closer and closer to her release.

He was fighting to hold off for her, desperate to see her come undone before letting himself go. He watched the flush grow across her chest, watched her biting her lip, watched the way her delicate eyelashes fluttered. Her breathing quickened, her nails sunk deeper into his skin and the sound of his name – no longer moaned but screamed – took him over the edge with her. He cried out her name as he rode out his climax – Gillian, she noted, not Foster, and when they were both spent he collapsed beside her, his breathing heavy, their legs entangled.

For a long time, neither of them said anything. She wouldn't even look at him, which he figured had to be a bad sign. At last, feeling he had to break the ice somehow, he turned to look at her.

"Love..." he began, and was surprised when her lips were suddenly on his. He returned the kiss, his fingers sliding gently through her hair, and when she broke away the smile she gave him nearly made his heart stop.

"God, Cal, that was amazing."

"So... no regrets? Oh, and yeah it was," he added quickly, wanting to reassure her that it was bloody fantastic for him as well.

"Well..." she began, and he realised he was holding his breath. "I never thought it would happen like this. I sort of imagined us admitting how we felt first, you know, maybe going out to dinner..." She gave him an embarrassed smile, and he felt a rush of guilt about the way they'd come together. He knew her, knew she was a romantic, why the hell hadn't he done things properly? Confessed his love to her, wined and dined her, shown her each and every day just how much she meant to him until they were finally ready to take the next step?

"I'm sorry, love," he began, but she quickly began shaking her head when she read the shame on his face.

"No, Cal, I didn't mean..." She stopped, then started again. "I thought perhaps that's how things would happen for us. At least, part of me thought it would be like that. But another part of me..." A slow smile started to spread across her face. "Part of me thought this was inevitable."

"What, me jumping you when I was in the middle of applying coconut suncream to you? How the hell did you see that one coming?"

She giggled. "I mean, I thought our passion might just spill out one day, there'd be a moment, one of us – I guessed you – would initiate things, and we just wouldn't be able to help ourselves."

He frowned. "It should have been better for you."

"Better?" Now she was frowning. "Better than the best sex of my life? What's better than the best?"

He smiled at her words, but there was still a hint of regret on his face. "Passion's all well and good, love, but I should have done things properly for you. At least taken you out on a date first."

"Cal." She stroked his face gently. "How many times have we had dinner together in restaurants?"


"How many times have we had lunch together? How many times have you cooked for me, or vice versa? How much time have I spent time with you and Emily, watching films or silly programmes on TV? How much time have we spent together over the years when we weren't working?"

"A lot," he admitted.

She smiled at him softly. "We've been dating for years, Cal. Especially these last few months, since my divorce. We just never put a name to it. Well, now we can."

"So..." He gave her one of those grins that always made her ache with want for him. "We're dating, are we?"

"I guess so. Does that scare you?"

"Terrifies me," he admitted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. "Because I can't believe a guy like me could ever land a woman like you. There has to be a catch."

"No catch," she murmured, scooting closer to him.

He wrapped an arm around her, but the quiet moment was suddenly interrupted by a hammering on the door.

"Hey, Foster, you in there? Where the hell is Lightman? We need to get going, now."

"Bloody Reynolds," Cal groaned, as Gillian quickly sat bolt upright.

"Oh my god, the case. I can't believe I forgot we were in the middle of a case!"

"You forgot? Wow. I can make Gillian Foster forget her work." He winked at her. "I'm good."

"Yes you are." She threw his clothes at him as she quickly pulled on her own. "Hurry up. Won't be a minute," she called at the door.

She knotted her sarong around her hip again, her lips quirking into a brief smile as she remembered doing that earlier – and how Cal had then slid the knot undone.

Cal reluctantly redressed, his eyes on Gillian the whole time. When they were both suitably attired, Gillian smoothed her hair down and quickly began to remake the bed.

"So I guess now when everyone smells us and assumes we've been shagging, they'll be right," he said casually.

She shook her head. "They won't notice."

"Oh yeah?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Want to bet?"

Her mouth twitched at the mischievous smile on his face. "How much?"

"Oh, I think we can come up with something more interesting to bet than money..." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips brushing against her ear. "If I win, we join the mile high club on our way home."

"Cal!" She turned in his arms, her eyes widened in surprise, that adorable blush returning to her cheeks.

"Well, you seem pretty confident you're going to win... what are your terms?" He flashed her that grin again, and she swallowed. She tried not to think about what would happen if Cal won, but if someone says don't think about an elephant you start thinking about an elephant, and the simple fact was she now couldn't erase the image of her and Cal on the plane from her mind.

"When I win," she said, giving him a bright smile, "you have to take me out to dinner at La Fontaine."

Now it was his turn to look surprised. "That place? But the food's all fancy, and it's tiny portions and you can't pronounce half the stuff on the menu..."

"Take me out to dinner," she murmured, her lips millimetres from his, "and we can get dessert to go."

His eyes lit up at her words, and he caught her lips in a quick kiss. "Game on, darling."

"Foster?" came Reynolds' voice again. "You okay in there?"

"Coming!" she called, and pushed Cal away from her slightly and hurried to the door. "Sorry, Ben," she apologised quickly as she pulled it open. "We were just discussing the case."

"Right, well, let's get a move on." He stood in the doorway as Gillian walked past him, then sniffed. "What's that smell?"

"Coconut," Cal and Gillian said simultaneously, and Gillian's eyes darted to Cal's. He was grinning.

"My sunscreen is coconut scented," she said smoothly. "Let's go."

"Okay." He didn't argue, but then noticed how close Lightman was standing to him. "Problem?" he asked, and Gillian turned to look at them. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Cal standing so close to Reynolds.

"Cal." There was a warning in her voice, but he only grinned wider.

"Sorry, Ben, you were saying? Something about... coconut?"

"Cal," she said again, and Reynolds looked between them in confusion before shaking his head.

"Look, I don't know what's going on with you two, and I'm not sure I have the energy to try figuring it out. Can we just get on with the case now?"

"Absolutely." She nodded firmly, shooting Cal another look. With a small shrug he moved away from Reynolds, following Gillian down the corridor.

"Oh," Reynolds added as he started to follow them, and they both turned to look at him, "and if you don't want everyone to know you two are sleeping together, you might want to avoid leaving your hotel room together, both smelling of coconut."

Gillian bit her lip and turned away quickly to avoid his eyes, and Cal's. They continued the walk down the corridor in silence, and it was only when they were stood in the elevator that Cal finally spoke. Leaning forwards, he stroked his hand over her stomach, his voice whispering in her ear. "Can't wait for the plane ride, love."