Disclaimer: I don't own Lie To Me. (If I did, they'd be getting ready to shoot season 5 now)

Author's note: I've just discovered Lie To Me and watched all the episodes back to back. Absolutely adore it and was so gutted when I realised that Fox didn't re-commission it. This is my take on what might have happened after the season 3 finale. Slight spoilers for Killer App. Total fluff.


Gillian Foster wondered if Cal even realised that he was doing it. That it had become a normal part of their daily routine, a habit. It had started after Claire's death; he would come into her office at the end of the day and comfort her. But that had been weeks ago. Yet, still every night, after everyone else had gone, he would come into her office, sit on her sofa and put his arm around her whilst they talked. At first, they'd talked about Claire and she'd cried and raged over what had happened and he had listened and comforted her. Then they'd started talking about their days, exchanging information and venting the everyday stresses and strains of running their own business. And very slowly they'd started discussing more personal things. Their pasts, Zoe and Alec and even their parents were tentatively discussed. Cal admitted that he thought Zoe was jealous of Gillian. When she asked why, he shrugged and said in a completely matter of fact tone,

'Dunno really. I guess it's because you're so beautiful. Zoe likes to be the most beautiful woman in the room and when you're about, she isn't.'

Gillian had filed that away for further thought then changed the subject.

In turn, she admitted that Alec found Cal incredibly intimidating and had tried to talk her out of going into partnership with him, saying that Cal's impulsive behaviour would make him impossible to work with.

'Yeah, well, he wasn't far wrong about that, was he, luv?'

'Yes he was; you're only almost impossible to work with.'

Cal had chuckled before saying ruefully,

'I'm sorry I'm such a plonker sometimes.'

Gillian had accepted his apology with a gentle smile, resisting the temptation to ask him why he behaved in such a self-destructive manner sometimes, knowing that it went back to his childhood and the father that he would never discuss.

All the time, they were cuddled up together on the sofa.

So was Cal completely oblivious to what he was doing? Even as she framed the question, Gillian knew the answer. Cal was the world's foremost deception expert and as well as knowing all about micro-expressions, knew everything there was to know about body language. There was no possibility that he was doing this other than on purpose. So why was he doing it? As she ate her lunch, Gillian considered the possible explanations. She had wondered if he wanted to persuade her to change something to do with the business but Cal was impatient; he could never have waited weeks for that. After twenty minutes of intense concentration, she decided that there were only two likely reasons for Cal to be behaving the way he was: he was trying to repair their friendship or he was in love with her. Her heart leapt as she considered the latter but she forced herself to stay calm, the former was just as likely. Taking some deep breaths, Gillian decided that she needed some more information. Getting it was going to be the problem. If Cal didn't want to be read, she would get nothing from him. Not visually anyway. As she thought about it, she realised that there might be a way for her to find out what she needed to know. Because whilst Cal could read faces, she could read voices.

That evening when he came into her office, she smiled and came over and sat beside him as always. He put his arm around her and she put her head on his chest and they started talking. After a few minutes, Gillian casually rested her hand on his knee and started to draw patterns with her fingers. He didn't outwardly react but his voice deepened and Gillian heard his heart speed up. That Cal found her sexually attractive was not news, the body chemistry between them had been obvious from the day that they met. What Gillian wanted to know was what he was going to do or say next. A few months ago he would have made an outrageous and probably very crude remark but tonight he just tightened his arm around her for a moment and then carried on talking. Encouraged, Gillian drew patterns on his leg for a bit longer before stopping and just resting her hand on his knee.

The next night she snuggled into him, putting one arm around his waist and resting her other hand on his chest. His voice that night was the happiest she'd heard it for a long time. When he finally got up to leave, she said,

'Have you got Emily tonight?'

'No. Why? Something you want, luv?'


Gillian realised that she was shaking and closed her eyes as she tried to regain her courage. When she opened them, Cal was staring at her intently and she resisted the urge to shield her thoughts from him, letting him make eye contact as he said,

'What's wrong, darlin'?'

'I'm nervous.'

'I can see that, luv. You about to suggest we break into Fort Knox, Foster? Cos, if so, I've got to tell you that my criminal days are behind me.'

She laughed shakily, and he said,

'What is it?'

She bit her lip, then said,

'I wondered if you'd like to go out to dinner with me?'

'Sure. Your place or mine?'

'No, Cal. I mean out to a restaurant. On a date.'

She looked up at him and his face was alight with happiness. He pulled her into his arms but said,

'A date? Are you sure? What about the line?'

'Yes, I'm sure. And I don't care about the line. In fact, screw the line.'

'Screw the line? I'd much rather screw…'


Laughing he bent over and kissed her.

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