Just something that came to me today as I went through LTM season 2 for the third time. Everyone seems to do background stories and I have never done that before, they are where they are and I'm good with that, however Sweet Sixteen spoke to me...and here is the beginning...There might be more to this story, if I feel like it and there is any interest in it. I think this might turn into my version of the origin of The Line. That is where my brain is telling me to go...I don't know. This is also going by the assumption that when Cal stormed off it was their last session together, not the one they showed at the end of the actual episode.

Also this is to tie you over til I get my other LTM story out. Uhg, who knew writing sex would be so strenuous? Ba dump bump...

The Pentagon.

March 28, 2003

7:25 p.m.

"We would be irresponsible not to talk about Emily." Gillian said to Dr. Lightman, a touch forcefully, almost betraying what she'd worked so hard to keep from him. It was a secret that if he knew would prove the existence of the cover-up he insisted on and that had brought him to her office in the first place. And she still couldn't let that happed, her fear for a little girl she had never met kept her focused.

He had surprised her by showing up, at her office after hours, since their final session had ended so abruptly on his part. She hadn't expected to see him again after she had sent her report back to Andrews, she hadn't expected to have to continue to lie.

"Right." He drawled. He sat quietly, lounging, in her chair while she sat in the chair designated for visitors. She didn't say anything, a trick used by psychologists, letting him direct the conversation. "I've been cleared." He said finally, changing the subject still unable to talk about his family, to what he came to her office for in the first place. She could see he was thanking her with his eyes but she could also see that that wasn't what he came to tell her. "I don't think I want to do this anymore."

Gillian frowned, she hadn't been expecting that. "Naw, not this." He continued waving his hand about indicating the room. "I mean, this." He used a broader gesture. "Here with Uncle Sam." She nodded when she caught his meaning.

"You don't 'think' you want to work here anymore?" She asked repeating and confirming his words. She signified the work think, knowing he'd used it on purpose but to equivocate about his true feelings. "You either know or don't know if you want to do something."

He nodded his head, appreciatively. "I know I don't want to work here." He said then tilted his head to the side. She had read his book and she knew he was doing what he called 'reading someone' to her. "You're very good at that." He replied. "Reading between the lines." His hand moved back and forth in the air as he spoke.

She shrugged, affirming, and watched as his mind began to work something out. She waited to see if he was going to share it with her.

"I was considering going into work for myself." He said after a minute of silence and she realized that was what he wanted to tell her. It was almost as if he was asking her opinion. "To avoid a repeat of the whole mess." He continued, talking about his skills getting another mother and child killed in a possible future.

"I think that is a wonderful idea." She smiled genuinely, having no doubt that he would do just fine and be happier not in Counter-Terrorism.

He stood up suddenly, startling her. "Right then." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "See ya." He looked at her for a long moment then left just as suddenly as he showed up.

Gillian stayed in the visitor chair, staring at the spot where Dr. Lightman had been, trying to figure out what had just happened. She had the strangest feeling like she'd been tested and had passed.