A/N: Very silly, pure fluff. I haven't actually seen season three yet, so this is written more with season one/two canon in mind. Not that there is anything remotely plotty in this story. Again, it's pure, shameless fluff.

A Kiss is Still a Kiss


He caught up with her in the foyer first thing in the morning. "You!" She turned, waiting for him to fall into step beside her. "You know when you're away, they transfer all your calls and messages through to me. There is far too many people wanting to talk to you on any given day. Did my best to get rid of them for you, though. Yeah, thought you'd appreciate it, you're welcome."

She ignored his little diatribe and bumped her shoulder against his companionably as they continued towards her office. "I missed you too."

"How was your sister's?"

"Good, I miss her and the kids already."

"Well, every time you step foot out of here, seems like we're in a constant state of being two minutes away from total disaster, so you'll just have to keep on missing 'em, I'm afraid."

Smiling mildly, she simply said, "Nice to be needed."

"Which is Foster for 'go away Cal, I've just got in and don't need you nattering away at me before I've even had my morning frappa-whatever'. Point taken, on my way, see you then."

"Hey," she laughed, her hand on his arm stopping him before he could veer away. She stepped towards him, arms coming up, because she'd been away for a week and she hadn't gotten her hug yet.

He gathered her against him, squeezing warmly, then moved back to kiss her cheek.

They had done this sort of thing so often, they really should have had the routine down. But somehow today the system fell apart. Somehow, either she pulled back too far, or he came in at the wrong angle, and instead of their usual peck on the cheek, it turned into an unexpected smooch on the lips.

Gillian pulled back, blinking in surprise. She laughed, and a smirk of amusement appeared on Cal's face.

"I think we missed a bit there. Or," he amended quickly, his grin turning wicked, "Our aim just improved."

She looked away first, rolling her eyes as she stepped back.

"You know you're blushing?" he added.

"No, I'm not."

He cocked his head at her. "Bit weird, that, wasn't it?"


"Yes? And now it's getting awkward?"

She looked back at him brightly. "How about we move on?"

"There's an idea."

They stared past each other for a second, then she ducked into her office, and he headed resolutely in the opposite direction.




Twenty minutes later he showed up in her office.

"Not like I had my tongue down your throat."

"I thought we were moving on."

"Yeah, see, I was moving," he began to draw a slow circle in the air in front of him, "and then look how I came back round this way, only to find myself back where I started, see?"

She sat back in her chair, sighing. "It was just a kiss. We've kissed each other before."

"Yeah, on purpose and everything. An' that one time, you know, hot and heavy, you and me, the porn-king's office..."

She smiled indulgently. "I remember."

"But that, now, that out there, that was by accident and just a bit... there was a thing. Kind of odd."

"It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"You're very," he stopped pacing long enough to gesture at her face, "quiet over there."

"I think you're probably emoting enough for both of us, don't you?"

"Bit of a deflection there." He held up finger and thumb. "Little bit."


"Just a kiss?"

She nodded.

He just stood there, studying her face, and she sighed. "A girl could really go for that frappa-whatever about now."




The next day, sometime mid-morning, they passed each other outside the conference room.

Gillian had her nose in a file and didn't look up. Cal continued on his way for about five or so steps, then turned on his heel and began following her down the hallway.

"Stop obsessing!" she called without looking around.

He stopped. Nodded. "Right, thank you!"

He turned back the way he was going.




Later, whilst watching two clients bicker in the cube:

"I'm not obsessing, it's just that-"


"It's you, you're the one, you're stifling my scientific process."



"We just got a confession. You missed it."

"Yeah, all right. I'm still not obsessing."




Towards the end of the day, he cornered her in the break room. "Hey, there you are, look I need to ask you -"

"Oh for god's sake Cal! Really! It was a kiss! It lasted half a second! It was hardly mind-blowing, and I can assure you if I ever had it in mind to kiss you properly I'd really give you something to obsess over. I mean is that what you want? Is it? Just tell me. You're driving me crazy with this!"

His mouth worked silently for a few seconds. "I... was about to ask where that fancy bakery you like is 'cause Em got an 'A' on her Biology mid-term and I wanted to buy her a... Sorry, what'd you just say?"


They stared at each other for a moment.

"The bakery's a block down from that deli that has the mustard you like, remember?"


He kept staring his squinty stare. She turned around and got the hell out of there.




That night found Cal thinking three or four - or twenty - times about calling her up and, in a completely civil, sensible manner, asking her just who she thought was driving who crazy around here. Each instance of such stupidity was followed by a brief spell of better judgement wherein he realised how potentially humiliating that would be.

It was a lengthy process and might have become tedious, especially considering he didn't like to keep a lot of alcohol around with a teenager in the house. Lucky for him, though, he had a teenager in the house. So the process was actually fairly lively, involving half a bottle of wine he had in the fridge, and the entire bottle of apple schnapps he found under Emily's mattress.




The next morning it took him two hours after arriving at work to finally take his sunglasses off.

"Rough night?" Gillian said when he appeared.

"Shut up," he replied.




The hangover had just about worn off by the time he breezed through the lab with a hastily barked, "You two, with me. Need a second opinion."

Torres and Loker exchanged looks before trotting after Cal as he strode determinedly away.

Gillian looked up, rather taken aback as the door opened and the three of them stormed her office.

Well, Cal stormed. The other two snuck in behind him and tried not to appear too fascinated.

There was a brief, charged silence.

Cal paced frenetically before stopping and staring at Torres and Loker. He flung a hand out behind him, pointing at the woman seated behind her desk.

"Foster. Has she got the hots for me? Wants me bad? Dying for me to just grab her an-"

Gillian was on her feet in an instant. "Cal!" Horrified, she was horrified, and incredulous, and pissed beyond belief, and -

"Oh," said Torres, eyes widening.

"Whoa," said Loker, pointing. "I saw that. Did you - did you see that?"

And then she was on the defensive. "What? I... there wasn't any... What?"

Flustered, she looked over at Cal and found him grinning happily. "Aha, see? I've got that bloody blind spot but they don't, right? I enjoyed that, to be honest."

Her composure quickly returned, and she narrowed her eyes at him, hands moving to her hips. "I am going to kill you," she said.

"Yeah, she kind of means that," Torres said in a low voice.

"He knows," said Loker, watching as their boss held his ground for all of three seconds before turning and fleeing the room, followed closely by their other boss.




"I mean it, Cal!" She stalked swiftly in his wake as he darted away down the corridor.

His disembodied voice floated back to her, taunting. "Can't kill me if you can't catch me."

She followed him into his office, realising half a second too late that he was standing behind the door, swiftly closing and locking it the moment she'd cleared the threshold.

She rounded on him, and he backed up against the wall, hands up to ward her off.

"Right, right, okay, but before you end it, one last request for a condemned man? Don't kill me?"

"Oh, you think you're funny? Keep making jokes, Cal, really, it's helping."

"Don't know what you're so mad about. You kissed me, remember."

"I did not!"

"But you want to."

"No I don't."

"Yes. Well, yeah, that's true. Right this second, it's true. Still, we both know the kids were right back there."

She deflated a little. "Just because we see something, doesn't mean that we know what it means."

"That's the trouble, isn't it? That's always the trouble. So what does it mean, then, eh?"

She regarded him warily. "I don't know, what do you think it means?"

He pushed away from the wall and circled her. "You first."

She turned, following his progress with a stubborn glare. "No."

"Why not?" He tilted his head. "Please?"

"I don't want to. You're the genius, you tell me."

"Don't want to."

Both of them, at this point, were finding it difficult to keep a straight face.

Cal was winning the battle, but only just, and only because it would have been embarrassing to lose. Gillian, being unsaddled with an unreasonably large ego, suddenly broke into a wide grin.

Seeing this, Cal, who could be extremely clumsy when he wanted to be, suddenly tripped over his own feet, stumbled forward into her personal space, and pushed her back against the conveniently-nearby wall. Her small noise of surprise was muffled - somehow, completely by random chance, his lips had landed right on hers.




Some time later, he said, "Sorry, love. Totally by accident. Won't happen again."

"Hmm. You sure about that?"

"Absolutely, course I am. From now on, we mean it. Every time."




Some time after that, they emerged from Cal's office and stood together just outside the door.



Gillian set off at a brisk pace. "So, I almost forgot I'm still mad at you."

"Had me fooled. Completely fooled. A stellar performance."

"You don't remember utterly humiliating me in front of people I have to work with every day, just a little while ago?"

"I'll admit it slipped my mind for a moment there. It's only embarrassing for you, though, right, if I don't have the hots back." He took her wrist and pulled her with him until they reached the lab. "Oi! You two!"

Gillian quickly realised what he was doing, seeing Torres and Loker seated at work. "Oh god." She covered her face with her hand.

Cal, in a repeat of his former mortifying performance, pointed at her. "Foster - what I said about her before? It's all right, see, 'cause I fancy her back. Got that?"

"Duh," said Torres.

Loker waved a hand at them. "Old news. Get a room."

He nodded, satisfied, and turned to Gillian. "Well, that's that sorted. Want to, you know, get one?"

She made a disgusted noise and left.

"Maybe later, then." He bounced on his heels a bit, waiting, staring at the backs of Torres and Loker's studiously bowed heads.

Shortly, there came the sound of clicking heels approaching, and Gillian stuck her head back in the door. "Cal."

"Right, coming love."

the end.