A/N: This has been brewing in my mind for the better part of the last two weeks. I hope you enjoy it, it might span to be really long or just moderately long; I don't know depends how I feel about it. Hahah. Can't wait for September. Leave your reviews and comments...Your opinions make for better stories. ^_^

Oh, and I will be continuing the other fanfic (Mail!) I currently have up...it shall be interesting. ;)

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Past Glance

[ Chapter 1 ]

The door had followed its leaver and swished back and forth for a few seconds. Gillian glanced back once more but all she saw was Heidi cleaning up, ready to leave. She was such a great receptionist. Always alert and polite, reading for action, no matter the task. A small smile appeared on Gillian's lips; she hesitated to look back at her lap. Why would he... The thought lingered. Incomplete. Like how she felt inside.

Gillian walked back to her desk. What she really wanted was to get out of her constricting work attire and into a bath. Hmmm. Closing her eyes, she remembered a pleasant memory. When the thought flittered away, Gillian's eyes opened and sought out the single key laying on her desk. It was like the forbidden fruit. But of course she wasn't Eve, it wasn't given to her by a serpent, and she was not going to be banished out of the Garden of Eden.

Her God - hearing the mockery of Torre's words - was more accepting and forgiving...most of the time.

Gillian grabbed her purse before she could have another thought of that blasted key. Right at the door - one push to open - and her mind commanded her eyes to look at that damned key. Damn him. . He'll receive his own level of Hell because the other 8 can't contain him, she though wickedly. Gillian took three - frustrated - strides to her desk, snatched the key, and headed out into the hallway.

Being out of her office, slightly, cleared her mind. And gave her time to think. Oh Cal. I know your intentions are good but I just...don't know. What would Alec think? I just...I can't...but... Gillian looked at the little white square fob attached to the key. SPARE KEY, FRONT. Two guesses as to which lock the key opened: one, Cal's house; two, Cal's house. It wasn't awkward to go, for she'd been over a few times, but this was when she was with - still is, somewhat - Alec, while Cal and Gillian were purely professional. Gillian shook her head. Who am I kidding? From day one there was always an unexplainable connection between the "shrink" and "freakshow." To deny it would be a right smack in the face. Gillian sighed and clenched the key, forming a white-knuckled fist.

After a minute, she relaxed. There was a key indent embedded into her palm, but that didn't bother Gillian, what bothered her was that she neared her car and had to make a choice: House of Lightman or Hotel en route 6.

Slipping into her car, Gillian tok a few calm and steadying breaths. Her composure regained but her mind was anything but steady. Thoughts of Alec, Cal, Zoe, Emily, Ria and even Loker flooded through her mind, mixed along with the events of the day, all made for a very chaotic thought process. She kept seeing each of their faces flash in and out like a poorly done 80's retro film with the sound off. Gillian shook her head and focused on the sound of the ignition. What'll it be?

[+]

Cal Lightman left the hospital, keys in hand, with a small scowl upon his lips. He did what he had to do but Torres still couldn't see the big picture. It frustrated him but it was expected. All the damned naturals think they are above the world and know what's best, push them too far and they break and hate you forever, push them too little, they get arrogant and develop a complex..."Much like myself," sighed Lightman. Torres would take time. Besides, Gillian was always there to keep him in check so as to not push Torres past the breaking point, but he came too close today.

Gillian.

Within the thirty minutes, Lightman was back at the office. Everyone had gone home. He did one last look around to make sure all was clear before shutting off the lights and he himself headed home. Well, stop by Zoe's first, check up on Emily.

Ding. Dong. Such an irritating sound, you'd think after so long, people would change such an annoying alerting mechanism. A few moments later there was the sound of footsteps and the unlocking of the door. His daughter appeared in her pajamas, eliciting a genuine smile on Lightman's face.

"Hey Dad."

"Hi Love, is your mum in?"

"Yeah," she left the door open for him to come in while she went to get Zoe.

Lightman's ex-wife appeared in the living room, suit jacket and shoes off, hair framing a lovely face. A face showing the signs of a stressful day at work. "Hello Cal." Beneath her eyes were the telltale signs of tiredness. Lightman walked over to within a foot of Zoe, reaching out his hand to stroke her face. Immediately after his thumb made a small circle on her cheek, her hand grasped his and removed it from her face. She simply said, "Roger's here." Her voice was tense and that small flicker of doubt creased her brow. Even her haggard appearance couldn't hide the fact of her beauty. Lightman stared at her for a few seconds. Both their gazes battled a silent, pleading war all too full of stranded promises and broken hearts. Their dance of passion was nearing the denouement; it was hard to take the final ending step, but it was inevitable.

The curtain would fall on their last act.

Their paths would intertwine, like the interlocking backbone of DNA, but they would greet one another as old friends rather than lovers. Roaring fires die down to flickering flames, but tended correctly would provide warmth for years to come.

A muscle in Lightman's jaw twitched.

Without a warning, Lightman leaned in and placed a soft, tender kiss upon Zoe's lips. "Goodbye," he whispered upon them, gently, a light exhale of breath.

He turned around and exited the house before his hormones could override his mind, making the entire ordeal futile. He focused on something completely to the other end of the spectrum: a shower.

[+]

Red light. Green light. Yellow light. Green. Green. Gillian tapped the steering wheel with her fingers in a pattern that followed the changing colours of the traffic signals. She stared down the road and saw that all the lights were encased in a soft halo glow, spotted around the edges and bleeding together. Lights. Light. Lightman. Gillian let out a frustrated sigh and punched the radio's power button, well, more like poked it really hard with her finger. The song that filtered through the speakers was none other than "I'd Rather Be With You" by Joshua Radin.

Sitting here, on this lonely dock

Watch the rain play on the ocean top

All the things I feel I need to say

I can't explain in any other way.

The light flashed green and Gillian's foot on the gas pedal revved the engine to 5,000 RPMs, not enough to peel-out, but enough to hear the purring engine spring into a loud roar. Her car cruised down the streets ten miles over the speed limit. She itched to go faster but figured receiving a ticket tonight would make for a deflated soufflé.

I need to be bold

Need to jump in the cold water

Need to grow older with a girl like you.

Finally see you are naturally

The one to make it so easy.

Consciously Gillian knew where she was headed, but brewing in her subconscious was the little devil that wouldn't quit. "Life would be so much easier if all girls were given a Fabio or Hercules," she said to herself. Only a few miles away, the little voice in her head countered. A look of exasperation crossed her features. Damn you, Freud.

When you show me the truth

Yeah, I'd rather be with you

Say you want the same thing too.

Before the song fully ended - damn, Radin for having such a voice - Gillian was two turns away from Cal's street. One could guess that the little devil had won obviously. She parked near the corner of his driveway, to the end, maybe he wouldn't see her car. Hands were gripping the steering wheel. Gillian knew she could still leave and check into that hotel she already paid for or she could inner mind battle herself to exhaustion or she could just take the next logical step and ring the doorbell.

Come on Miss Psychologist. Think Logically.

She briefly widened her eyes in frustration - at the rate she was going, her stress levels could be enough to give her a heart attack or a stroke, hey there's a thought, then I wouldn't have to be wondering what to do with him, all the damn time.

A sudden vibration stirred GIllian's thoughts out of its current predicament. She looked around and saw an incoming call on her Blackberry. It was Cal. Why... Too lost for words, Gillian answered with a somewhat shaky voice. "H..hello?"

"What am I? A serial killer?"

Gillian smiled. "It'd cement Loker's suspicions of you."

"You coming in? Or am I going to have to call stranger danger?"

How the hell did he know? "Wait, how did - "

"Out of the car, before I come get you myself."

" - you....I'll be there in a sec." She knew the battle was lost. How rude would it be to Cal if she had refused and just drove off? It wasn't worth dealing with, especially with Cal. She was as depended on him as he was her. Luck of the draw.

Gillian exited her car, locked it with a beep beep, and headed up to the front door. With only a few steps away, the door opened, framing a freshly showered Cal, complete with wet hair and towel around the neck. Oh my. Gillian wasn't one to gape but perhaps she stared a bit longer than was necessary.

Cal resumed toweling dry his hair. "I hate asking twice." He let the door open wider, gesturing with his free hand, his brow slightly arched.

Without allowing another thought to pass through her already battling conscious, she accepted the invitation and walked into Cal's house.

It seems the spare key wasn't needed after all.

To be continued.....

[ A/N 2: Memories start coming back to the two in the next chapter. =) Look for it soon. ]