Title: Dios Mio
Character/pairing: N/A
Rating: PG/T
Spoilers: All of Season One (up to but not including "Sacrifice")
Summary: Dr. Cal Lightman takes Abigail Andrews on her first practical assignment and learn there is more to her than meets the eye.
Author's Note: Due to reader request, I am continuing the tales of Abigail Andrews ("The Crush", "Happy Belated Birthday").
Disclaimer: I do not own "Lie to Me" or its characters, the show belongs to Fox and I make no money off of these stories. I appreciate comments and critique, please feel free to read and review. Enjoy!

xxxxx

It had been a long eight hours Abigail Andrews had to admit - she hadn't thought her first day as a new recruit on Doctor Cal Lightman's 'deception detection team' would be filled with so much knowledge. "This is university all over again," she sighed inwardly, looking at the pile of textbooks, photocopied papers and file folders stuffed full of who knew what. "I'm going to need more post-its and better coffee," she said aloud.

"But not tonight," Cal said, striding into her 'office' (the term 'office' was used lightly as it was more of a desk and shelves tossed into what was Cal's storage room, something they would remedy soon, Abigail had been promised).

"Not tonight? I needed to start reading all of this about three years ago," Abigail quipped before covering her mouth with her hand, letting a yawn escape.

"Your day isn't over yet. Besides, reading all of that," Cal said, motioning to the mound of books with his hand, "that is really just to set the groundwork. Most of your learning will be more practical. Like what we're about to do."

"About to do?" Abigail repeated tiredly.

Cal shook his head. "You've got to start trusting me, Abby. I think this outing will help with that. That and I could blackmail you into doing it, remember?" He said, eyebrows raised slightly.

"How long are you going to hold this over my head, exactly? Do you have a timeframe I can follow," Abigail asked. Just a few weeks ago she had been called into Cal's office, his picking up on deception from Abigail, which turned out to be nothing more than an innocent workplace crush she had on Cal. He had used this information to his advantage ever since.

"I don't believe in timelines, I live life organically. Come along!" he commanded, plucking Abigail's coat from the hook it hung on and holding it out to help her into it.

Slowly nodding, Abigail went over to Cal and allowed him to help her into her jacket. "Where are we going?" she asked, picking up her purse.

"Always asking the wrong questions," Cal chided her. "It's not where we're going, Abby. It's why."

"Better question, how are we getting there? I don't have a car," Abigail offered.

"Taxi. We're going to need it." Cal replied, leading her out of the office.

Abigail stood perplexed. "We're going to need a taxi?" She asked the empty office.

"I wait for no one, Abby," Cal called from the hall, and Abigail followed the direction of her mentor's voice.

…one cab ride later…

Abigail stood in shock in front of the building Cal had instructed the taxi driver to bring them to. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I never kid about research, Miss Andrews."

Abigail shook her head then looked at Cal, repeating, "You have got to be kidding me."

"Don't look at me with those incredulous eyes," Cal lightly chastised Abigail. "Look, it's a perfect place to start observing people in their element."

"A library would be perfect, a mall would be perfect, a hospital waiting room would be perfect!"

Cocking his head to one side with eyes twinkling, Cal could not help but ask, "Remembering your birthday, Abby? Or the morning after?"

Abigail closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the heavy drinking at her birthday celebration just two nights prior, followed by the next morning when Cal had 'dropped by' her apartment and caught her in a very compromising situation while she was very hung over. She opened her eyes again, glaring at Cal. "Is that why you brought me to a bar? And one called 'Dios Mio' at that?"

Cal extended an arm to Abigail, inviting her to link arms with him. "We can't drink much because we are actually going to be doing practical research."

Abigail hesitantly put her arm through Cal's, and he patted her hand. "All right, firecracker, let's go."

"Firecracker?" she said, trying to place where she had heard him saying that before. "I wonder what you're like when you're sloshed. I'll bet you're a firecracker." He said it when he was at the apartment the other morning.

"Fantastic," she groaned before allowing Cal to lead her into the bar.

…one round later…

"…and so, when there are pitch variations, the voice goes higher, like at the end of a sentence in which someone is asking a question rather than making a statement, there is depiction present," Cal explained, rolling his empty shot glass on the table. He had picked that bar mainly because of the lack of patrons. One could do basic observations of human nature and still hold a normal conversation.

"So pitch changes, they're lying," Abigail nodded, her shot glass still full and untouched before her.

Cal raised his index finger, wagging it slightly, "Ahhh, that's not it at all, Abby!"

"You just said pitch variations-"

"Denote deception," Cal poked the index finger towards Abigail, emphasizing the word 'deception'. "There is a world of difference between 'lying' and 'deception'." Cal's eyes landed on Abigail's full shot glass. "You know, in some cultures you could be killed for ignoring a drink that's been bought for you."

Taking the not-subtle-at-all hint, Abigail grabbed the shot glass and drank down the liquid.

"Then again, in other cultures, you could be sexually promised to the person who bought the shot," Cal deadpanned.

Abigail choked on the last bit of alcohol that failed to be swallowed before Cal's last statement. After a few good coughs, she laughed. "Is everything a test with you?"

"First things first. Lying, by definition, is 'a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth'. Deception, on the other hand, is a 'concealment or distortion of the truth for the purpose of misleading'. It's not necessarily a lie we are looking for, but there is almost always deception."

"Don't you have to have a lie where there's deceit?"

"Distortion of the truth is not necessarily a lie. What if you don't know you're lying?" Cal postulated.

"How can you not know if you're lying," questioned Abigail as "La Bamba" blared throughout the bar.

"Outside force changes your circumstances but as you're not aware of it, you're telling the truth as you know it." Cal created an example to illustrate his point. "Your husband slips poison into the juice you give your rich aunt, but you don't know it's poisoned. You say as much. You're lying but you don't realize it because you don't have all the facts." Cal explained.

"OK, I think I'm with you," Abigail nodded. "Now my question; is everything a test with you?"

A bar employee came to clear away their empty shot glasses and Cal stopped the man, "Another round," he said and the employee nodded.

"You said we weren't drinking much, that we were doing practical work," Abigail said pointedly.

"That was a bit of deception on my part," Cal admitted.

"What do you mean, deception?"

"Well, I am going to be doing practical work. On you."

Abigail's eyes were wide, she laughed once or twice and looked down at the table. "I guess that answers my question."

Cal leaned back in his chair, "And what answer did you get, Abby?"

"Yes. Everything is a test with you. You're constantly testing your boundaries with everyone." Abigail looked at Cal intently. "I can only imagine what you would do to the person you cross the line with."

"That would be my ex-wife, Zoe. That was a line breaker for the books," Cal joked, trying to bring the situation back into his control.

Abigail was still regarding Cal with a studious look on her face. "Are you trying to analyze me, Abby?" Cal asked, leaning forward, arms crossed in front of him.

She tilted her head to one side. "I'm trying to categorize you."

"Abby, you're going to be a well trained agent someday but I don't think-"

"No, not by your methods, by mine," she interjected, eyes showing a little squint. "My background is communications theory, after all."

Leaning in even closer, Cal asked softly yet huskily, "And were do I fit in?"

The bar employee returned with their second round of shots, coming in between Cal and Abigail. She reached for her purse to pay for the second round but Cal was faster, putting the bills into the employee's hand, telling him to keep the change. Cal held his dripping shot glass in his hands but did not throw it back as he did the first time. "So, tell me. Where do I fit?" he asked Abigail again, this time more pointedly.

A smile crossed Abigail's lips. "That's just it, you don't. At least not yet." She knocked the shot back with grace, slamming the empty glass down on the table. "Which makes you even more attractive, because now you're a puzzle. A mystery." She leaned forward in her seat, "I see a lot of myself in you."

Cal laughed but his 'merriment' never reached his eyes. "Well, I'd like to think it would be more of having myself in you, but we'll play it your way." He said, causing Abigail to blush. He'd finally caught her off guard and the game was in his court again. "I'll drink to that, my little firecracker," he announced before downing the shot, slamming his glass on the table as Abigail had done before. Deciding to turn the tables Cal said, "You're the cheapest date I've ever had, d'you know that?"

"I'm not drunk!" Abigail argued.

"But you're getting there. That's all I needed," Cal once more leaned back in his chair.

"Needed for what?" Abigail asked quizzically. Cal had her attention diverted, just as he wanted.

It was time for Cal to cement the conversation on his side of the table. "Baseline. I need to know how you are naturally, and how you are unnaturally. Your traits. For example, you are so uncomfortable in day to day life, Abby. Playing with your hands, playing with your jewelry, your hair. Makes it hard to know whether you're being deceitful or not."

Cal was lying through his teeth – he obviously knew when Abigail was bring deceitful or he wouldn't have picked up on what she was hiding from him in the beginning. He was hoping she was enough out of her element not to pick up on that right then.

"You're giving me alcohol to figure out when I'm not being deceitful?"

Cal shook his head, silently happy that Abigail seemingly ignored his previous information misdirection. "I'm giving you alcohol to figure out who you might really be. Everything you've been at The Lightman Group has been an act." He folded his hands and rested his chin on top. It was time for another misdirection. "You're trying to be more than you are, and Abby," he leaned in, putting one hand on top of hers, "you don't need to be anything more than exactly who you are. You're doing a great job. I only hire the best."

Abigail looked thoroughly confused. "Did-did I miss something important back there?"

Cal eyed Abigail thoughtfully. "Maybe we should call it a night, hmm?"

…another cab ride later…

"So how did it go?" Doctor Gillian Foster's voice came through Cal's cell phone.

"Pretty well I think," Cal said, looking out of the window onto the streets of Washington. "I might have started working on her self confidence but we need to know what her root is. I'm leaving that in your capable hands. She'll be all right, though."

Gillian heard something in his voice, unspoken but loud and clear. "What are you leaving out?"

Cal paused for a moment.

"Cal?" Gillian prompted.

Cal exhaled loudly. "It was just the alcohol doing the talking. She was starting to make eyes at me, not that I blame her, I'm told I'm three times as attractive to women who are drunk," he said, trying to cover up the pause with humour.

It worked, and the patronizing smile could be felt through the phone. "Go home, Cal. Get some sleep."

"On it. Good night," he said before hanging up the phone.

The cab dropped Cal off in front of the buildings of The Lightman Group. After paying the driver for the ride from the bar, to Abigail's and to the office, Cal made his way to where his car was parked when he stopped suddenly. Changing his mind, he went into the building and rode the elevator to the floor his offices were located on.

The main offices were dark and quiet at that time of night, but he was hoping one person was still burning the midnight oil. Opening the door to Eli Loker's research office, he was relieved to find Eli still there.

"Boss man, what are you doing here?" Eli said, standing up and bushing the hair out of his eyes.

"How many projects you working on right now?" Cal asked, looking around the paper strewn office.

"Just tying up some loose ends on the 'Babies Exposed to Television" facial expression mimicking project. Why?" Eli asked.

"I need you do look into an employee's past. It has to be kept very quiet."

Eli nodded knowingly, then went to his file cabinet. Picking a file, he carried it over to Cal. "I think you'll find everything you need in here." Before handing him the file, Eli added, "And this 'research' that happened before you asked for it? Never happened."

"Done," Cal nodded, willing to overlook this gross misconduct for the time being. Eli placed the folder into his waiting hands. He left Eli to his paperwork and walked down to his own office, tossing his jacket over one of the visitor's chairs and settling into his chair behind the desk.

Abigail didn't know it, but she had struck a chord when she was sitting there, saying she was trying to categorize Cal. When she said she could not place him she had been lying to him. This meant she was thinking something completely different when she had been claiming to 'categorize' him, or she believed she had come to an understanding about him. He wasn't a fan of the second option.

She had said that she saw a lot of herself in him. In order to understand what Abigail claimed she saw, he would have to understand her better. She was now a mystery to him, too.

Pulling out his glasses he began to read every shred of information Eli had gathered on one Abigail Elizabeth Andrews.

It would turn out that Cal didn't know nearly as much about Abigail as he had once thought.

"My God."