Disclaimer: Just having some fun w/ my fav characters – I own nothing.

Lunchtime at the office.

Peeling back one slice of bread from the other to glance at the contents in between and taking a sniff, Gillian wrinkled her nose before catching herself and clearing her face of all expressions.

"Whassa matter, Gillian? You don't like my sandwich?" Cal questioned her, seeing the look of disgust that briefly flitted across her face. "I made that just for you, love."

Knowing it would be absolutely useless trying to lie to Cal, she responded, "Well, it's the thought that counts. Thanks, Cal."

"Now hang on a bit. That there's tuna. Tuna. As in your favorite sandwich that I've seen you eat at least a million times." Cal was utterly confused by her reaction. "Well, come on. Spit it out. What's the matter with it?"

"Cal, how many years have we worked together?"

"I dunno, love. Been about a hundred, hasn't it?"

"Give or take a few." Gillian replied with an indulging grin. "And in those hundred or so years, how many times have we eaten lunch together?"

"I dunno, probably gotta be in the millions by now I guess. What're ya gettin' at?"

"Well, in those million or so lunches, at least half of them I've been eating a tuna sandwich. Which I made. Right in front of you." She paused, looking up at him, and could tell he had no idea what she was getting at. "If you can't figure it out on your own, I'm not going to tell you."

"Well, that's hardly fair, love. You could at least give me a hint."

"Hmph." Was the only reply he got.

Later after work.

On the way home from the office, Gillian heard her stomach rumble and was glad no one was around to hear it. After Cal had left her office, she had pushed the offending sandwich away from her, and as she hadn't packed her own lunch that day, and didn't want to make the effort to order in or go out, she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Stopped at a red light, she made a quick decision to go left and stop at the local grocery store, instead of continuing straight towards home.

She wandered up and down the aisles, randomly throwing whatever looked good into her cart. As she was walking down one aisle, she came to a stop in front of the condiments section, an idea suddenly popping into her head. A hint, is what he wanted? Gillian thought to herself, and had Cal been there to see it, he would have easily deciphered the look of evil glee that crossed her face.

She stopped a stock boy that was passing by, and pointing at a jar on the shelf, she asked "Do you have more of these in the back?"

The young man, probably in his early twenties, gave her a confused look. "Well, yea, but I just stocked these, you don't have to worry about the expiration date on them."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I want to buy a lot of these. More than you have on the shelf here."

"Um, okay. How many do you need?"

"Hmm…" Gillian paused to think, her face suddenly alighting with a smirk. "100. I need 100 jars. And you deliver, right?"

"Yea, just give us the address and we can send them wherever you want."

"Perfect. Thanks."

Gillian finished filling out the form for the delivery and handed it to the stock boy.

Glancing down at the papers she handed him, he verified, "So you want 100 jars of Miracle Whip delivered to the office of Cal Lightman, at the address you listed?"

"Yep. Can you deliver it tomorrow at noon?"

"Sure thing."

"Great. Thanks for all your help."

Gillian left the store with her groceries and a wide smile on her face, eager for the next day of work to start.

I bet that's the last time he tries to feed me mayo, she thought wryly.