Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce, went the slinky, as it bounced up and down on Cal Lightman's desk, Cal staring at it intently. The slinky in question was the ordinary sort of slinky you'd happen across in a dollar store, and Cal stared at it as though the cheap plastic had hypnotized him.

"Cal, what are you doing?" Dr. Gillian Foster said from the doorway of Lightman's office, hovering just inside the way she did when she was studying him or had a question that she was nervous about. Or both, in this case, as Cal noticed.

"I've just solved the case," Cal said, snapping up from his desk with the slinky in hand, bouncing it as he grabbed his jacket and walked briskly towards Gillian and the door.

Gillian pursed her lips, sighed and cocked her head, as she always did when trying to deal with Cal the shrink way. "What case, Cal?" she asked.

"The one with the car crash. And the woman," Cal said, as if there was nothing more obvious in the world.

Gillian raised her eyebrows. "You're going to have be a little more specific about which case you're talking about, Cal."

"No need. I've just solved it."

Gillian sighed. "Ok, great, Cal, but-"

"Wanna know how?" Cal asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "Her son. He had a slinky. Played with one just like this through the entire interview Torres did with him. And I'll bet that cheap plastic was just pliable enough to get stuck behind the wheel of her car and mess up all the wiring,"

"Well, that's a great theory, Cal," Gillian said, her memory jogged on which case he was referring to, "But we already know that her son wasn't in the car that day. She told us herself,"

Cal stuck his face in really close to hers, their noses almost touching. "Well I think she's lying."

Gillian rolled her eyes. "Ok, Cal, congratulations, you solved the case, but-"

"-but that's not why you came to my office," Cal finished, cutting her off. "So why did you come pay me a visit, Foster?"

Gillian's whole face relaxed with micro-expressed happiness when he asked. "Well," she said, smiling, "My application to be a foster parent went through. If all goes well with the kid, things could even lead to adoption,"

"Well, that's fantastic," Cal said, "Congratulations. So why did you come to my office?"

"I need next week off," Gillian said plainly. "Things are moving a lot faster than expected, and I get my new foster daughter on Monday."

"A week?!" Cal exclaimed. "I can't give you a week! We already have too many employees going away next week! You know I can't give you that, Foster,"

"Cal, she needs me, especially for the first week!" Gillian cried, exasperated. "This could finally be my chance to have a kid! And you're just gonna take that away from me?"

Cal sighed, knowing how much adoption meant to Foster. "Fine," he said.

"You'll give me the week?" Gillian asked hopefully. "Absolutely not," Cal said, "I don't have the manpower. But I'll let you bring her here to spend time with her, and you don't have to do any work unless I desperately need you for something. Good enough compromise?"

"Good enough," Gillian said with a sigh and a micro expression of irritation in her eyes. "But seriously, there better be some kind of emergency for you to call me away from her. You know how much this means to me, Cal,"

"Yes I do," Cal said. "So, tell me about your new foster kid. What's her name? Is it Sofie?" Cal sat back down at his desk, putting his feet up.

"No, it's not," Gillian said, cocking her head with feigned annoyance. "Don't even joke about that. Her name is Rosie, Rosie Darling."

"Rosie Darling? How old is she, two?" Cal asked.

Gillian pursed her lips. "She's fifteen, only a year or two younger than Emily."

"Oh, perfect!" Cal said. "We'll have to introduce them. And your kid sounds wonderful, Foster. But we'll have to do something about that name. Rosie Darling, really? For a teenager?"

Gillian sighed, cocked her head, and pursed her lips. "Cal. Please be gentle to her when I bring her in. She's coming from an abusive home, you know. She needs support, not... you,"

"Hey!" Cal said, sitting back up in his chair. "I take offence to that!"

"You should," Gillian said, catching the obvious lie. "But seriously, Cal, be nice."

"I will," Cal said flippantly. "What kind of abuse are we talking?"

Gillian shrugged. "No one knows. She's very reluctant to talk about it, as is her dad, who was the perpetrator,"

"What's his name?" Cal asked, already running through the possibilities in his mind.

"I don't know, Cal, I haven't even met her yet! But she is not a case of yours to try and solve, so just stay out of it, alright?"

Cal, noticing the nervousness in Gillian's voice and posture, dropped it. "Alright, I won't try and crack your little mystery. As long as you try not to worry so much about Rosie. You're gonna be a great mum,"

Gillian's shoulders dropped, a cue that Cal had hit the nail on the head with Gillian's nervousness. "Do you really think so, Cal?"

"Yeah, I do," Cal said, rising and sticking his face close into hers again. "Why - do you think I'm lying?"

Gillian cracked a smile. "Thanks, Cal, that really means a lot to me," she said softly, then turned to get back to her work.

"And, uh," Cal called to her as she left, "Go home and take an early weekend in compensation for the week I'm not giving you,"

"Really?" Foster called, rounding in the doorway to look at him.

Cal shrugged, an expression of affectionate teasing on his face. "See you and Rosie Darling bright and early Monday morning! Go get her some new toys or something,"

"It's a perfectly mature name, Cal!" Gillian called through the closing door as she walked out.