So, I honestly was planning on finishing up the next chapter of Sometimes, but then this happened. It just struck me that I've put poor Gillian through it a bit lately, and I wanted her to have a bit of happiness. By happiness, of course, I mean a good seeing to. Don't expect much plot here – it's mostly pure smut ;-)

Disclaimer: If I owned anything to do with Lie to Me, we wouldn't still be in the middle of this damn hiatus!!

Worth the Risk

Cal Lightman stared moodily at his computer. He was fed up, truth be told. Yet another week had come and gone, and he was no closer to telling the woman he loved how he felt than he had been at the start of it. They'd solved cases, busted liars, made a few more enemies and (thankfully) a few more dollars, but what was the difference between now, 8pm on Friday, and 8am the previous Monday? Absolutely nothing. She was still his business partner, still his best friend. Not his lover.


Gillian glanced at the clock on her desk. 8pm. She sighed. What kind of person stayed at work until 8pm on a Friday night? Someone with no one to go home to, that's who, she answered herself. She wasn't alone in the building, of course. There was one person she knew for a fact was still in his office… Would she still be there so late if he wasn't there too? No, probably not.

She sighed again. It had been five months since her divorce, but it could have been five days or five decades, it didn't seem to make much difference – she'd still made no progress. Every time she was tempted to reveal to Cal how she felt, something held her back. The line. Their company – was she willing to jeopardise their business? And what about their friendship? That was even more precious to her than the company, and if things didn't work out between her and Cal…

Lately, though, she'd started to think maybe the risk would be worth it. When he'd almost been killed – how many times in the last few weeks had that happened?! – she'd realised how much she needed him. Wanted him. Loved him. She might never have been much of a risk taker, but playing it safe hadn't exactly paid dividends in the past. She'd married the 'safe choice', settling for second best because her first choice was married with a child, and where had that got her? A childless divorcee with a drug addict for an ex-husband. Fantastic.

So perhaps it was worth taking a risk. Surely that was better than always wondering 'what if?' Better than spending every night alone, dreaming of him but always too afraid to confess just how she felt?

Okay. So she was prepared to risk their business, even their friendship, for what could be the best thing that ever happened to her. But there was something else holding her back, and she would have laughed at the irony if it weren't so frustrating. She didn't know how he felt. Gillian Foster, so good at reading and understanding people, had no idea if Cal was interested in her or not. True, he was pretty good at hiding behind that mask of his, concealing his feelings when he wanted to, which was most of the time. But she couldn't make a move unless she knew he felt the same way, and the simple truth was, she just didn't know.

He cared about her, of course, she knew that. He was protective of her, they were close friends, he enjoyed her company, her trusted her, relied on her, was jealous of other men who came into her life. But that wasn't enough. Male friends could get jealous and over protective, it didn't mean they were in love with the other person. Yes, he checked her out occasionally. More than occasionally, actually – more like quite a lot. Especially when she was wearing those figure hugging dresses, which she'd been wearing a lot more lately. Not for him, of course, just because… Oh, who was she kidding. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. But just because he appreciated her appearance in flattering clothes didn't mean he was in love with her – it meant he was a man with two eyes and a pulse.

She stood up and strode towards the door, smoothing her skirt and blouse as she went. She'd go and see him, just to say goodnight. And then she'd go home and drink a bottle of wine and berate herself for her cowardice.


Cal was just walking towards the door to go and see her when the door opened, and there she was. He swallowed, surprised to see her there, but quickly covered it up with a smile.

"Hey. I was just coming to see you."

"Great minds." She smiled. "You staying much later?"

He shrugged. "Not much to go home to."

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Sad, isn't it? We need to get a life, Foster. Stop being such workaholics."

She laughed. "And how do you propose we 'get a life'?

He licked his lips quickly, and her eyes widened slightly. He wasn't… aroused? Her eyes flew to his, noting his pupils were a little dilated. But that probably didn't mean anything.

"I might have one or two ideas." He couldn't believe he was actually nervous now – how many times had he wooed and charmed women in his life? He was always cool and calm and confident, knew exactly what to say and do. And now he felt like a teenager about to ask a girl out for the first time. What the hell? But this was Gillian, he reminded himself. He'd spent years wishing she could be his, and since her divorce he'd been thinking about it even more, even daring to dream that fantasy might become reality. But was he brave enough to actually make a move?

Just do it, a voice in his head told him. You'll see if she wants you or not. And if she doesn't, take a step back. Pretend you didn't mean it. Lie. Lie to save your ego, and your friendship, and pretend her rejection didn't just break your heart.

He took a step towards her, his eyes sweeping quickly over her body then back up to her face. "Reckon I'm done with work for tonight."

She swallowed, feeling a faint blush appear on her cheeks. She wasn't sure she could hide it if she tried, but decided in that second that she wasn't even going to bother. Let him see her desire. If he chose to ignore it, she'd know he didn't feel the same way, but he'd be too polite to mention it. And if he didn't…

"Me too," she said, her voice a little higher pitched than usual. She saw his mouth twitch as his eyes raked over her face, taking in all the tell-tale signs of arousal.

"So what shall we do instead…?" He closed the gap between them, his face now inches from hers, and reached up to push a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I thought you had one or two ideas?" Her eyes were burning with intensity, and she didn't take them off his.

"I do," he murmured. "Question is, whether it's what you want too."

"I have a feeling it might be." God, how long were they going to talk like this? She was so desperate to feel his lips on hers, his hands on her body…

He leant closer, his mouth hovering tantalisingly close, his gaze dropping to her slightly parted lips before looking back at her eyes, seeking permission, reassurance. She gave it to him by tugging him towards her and crashing her lips against his, pushing her tongue inside and passionately exploring his mouth.

He responded by grabbing her ass with one hand, pulling her even closer towards him, and using the other hand to trace light patterns across her shoulder blades as he kissed her back with equal exuberance. God, she was a fantastic kisser, even better than he'd imagined. And he'd imagined kissing her a lot.

She kept one hand wrapped around his neck as they kissed, the other around his back, holding him close to her. He really was an amazing kisser – even better than I imagined, she thought, smiling into the kiss as she recalled quite how many times she'd fantasised about them doing this.

Eventually they broke apart, although Cal let his lips linger close to hers as he breathed in deeply.

"Damn, Cal," she said, trying to control her breathing. "That tongue of yours could win awards."

"Oh, darling," he growled, his voice so full of desire it hitched her arousal up another level. "You have no idea what my tongue is capable of."

She felt her breath catch as his lips traced a line down her neck, lingering where her skin met the thin fabric of her blouse. Then, in one fluid motion, he tugged at the buttons, ripping the shirt open and smiling in appreciation at the sight that met his eyes. "I always knew you had to be wearing some seriously sexy underwear underneath those delicious little outfits of yours, Foster." His arms snaked behind her back, pulling her hips against him and letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

She tilted her head back, her hands running through his hair as he worked his mouth lower. He pushed her blouse off her shoulders, then reached behind her and unclasped her bra smoothly. She gasped as his tongue latched onto her nipple, sucking it whilst his hand rubbed light circles over her other breast.

She let out a little moan, and he shifted his mouth lower, grazing over her toned stomach, delighting in the way she twitched beneath his touch. He unzipped her skirt and it fell quickly to the floor. She stepped out of it, kicking her shoes off in the process, and he gently guided her backwards towards the couch. She sat down, noting with amusement how different the material felt against her skin when she was naked. Cal knelt in front of her, his hands rubbing up and down her legs, and she couldn't suppress another moan, especially when she felt him plant light kisses along her thigh.

"Cal…" As much as she loved what he was doing, the teasing was becoming unbearable. She couldn't ever remember feeling such desperate need for a man before. Years of pent-up attraction were culminating in the most intense arousal she'd ever felt, and if he dragged out their foreplay too much, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand it.

"Yes, love?" he murmured against her skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. His hands slipped up to the side of her underwear, gently pulling it down over her legs and removing it completely.

She answered him by tilting her hips towards him, begging him to touch her, but to her disappointment he pulled back slightly, sitting back on his heels.

"Desperate as I am to taste you, love," he said, "I feel a bit over-dressed. Reckon you can wait thirty seconds while I catch you up?"

Thirty seconds sounded an unbearably long time, but she was desperate to see him and feel him, so she nodded. "Let me help you." She reached forwards and ripped his shirt open, rubbing her hands over his chest. He shrugged his shirt off, then stood up so she could access his pants. She worked his belt open with surprising speed, and he locked his gaze on her eyes, seeing the pure need there. For him. He grinned. Gillian Foster, looking sexy as hell, desperately turned on and wanting him. What could be hotter than that?

It was more like twenty seconds before Gillian had removed every vestige of Cal's clothing, and his now joined hers in a pile on the floor. "That's better," she purred, leaning back on the sofa, her pupils even more dilated after seeing just how hard he was for her.

"Indeed. Now, where was I?"

"Right here," she said, placing her hand on his head and guiding him towards her lap. If he didn't touch her soon, she was going to go crazy.

He slid a finger gently through her folds, marvelling at how wet she was. The knowledge that she was this turned on by him only stoked his desire even higher.

Gillian grabbed the back of the sofa as she felt Cal's hand make contact, surprised herself at just how wet she was. He ran his finger gently up towards her clit, then, before she knew what was happening, his tongue darted out and flicked inside her.

"Fuck, Cal," she gasped, and he lifted his mouth up to grin at her.

"Never heard you swear before, love," he said, eyes glittering.

"Well, you've never done that to me before," she pointed out, and he laughed.

"Fair point."

He lowered his mouth to her again, alternating between licking her slowly and gently and sucking on her clit. Her moans intensified, and she thanked God there was no one else in the building to hear her cries of ecstasy as he continued to pleasure her. Gently he inserted a finger inside her, his tongue continuing its magical work, and she threw her head back on the sofa and gripped his hair a little more tightly.

"God, Cal…" He continued sucking her clit, his tongue swirling over it with more intensity as he felt her start to quiver beneath him. Seconds later, Gillian couldn't stop another string of expletives as the orgasm crashed over her. Waves of pleasure rolled through her body and she felt like she couldn't breath, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but float on a cloud of pure bliss.

"I… Cal… that… you…"

Cal slowed his movements, but continued to gently lick her as she came down from her high, her inability to form a coherent sentence amusing him. Eventually he withdrew from her and sat back, licking his lips at the sight of her, flushed and panting and looking sexier than ever. He'd always considered himself to be quite a generous lover, and his ability to read women, to know exactly what they liked and didn't, meant that he'd earned himself quite a reputation during his bachelor days as somewhat of a Casanova. Watching a woman come, knowing it was because of him, had always been a powerful turn-on for him, and he could never understand men who went in for the kill straight away. What better way to start a session of steamy sex than by giving a beautiful woman the most intense orgasm of her life? He'd fantasised so many times of being able to pleasure Gillian the way he had other women, and she hadn't disappointed him. Not that he ever thought she would have.

He crawled up her body, frantically kissing every inch of her skin. She raked her nails over his back, tilted her head back to further expose her throat to his lips, and felt her breath catch again as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Alright, love?" he asked, nibbling her ear lobe, and she grabbed his head and pulled his lips to hers, capturing his mouth in a blistering kiss.

"More than alright," she said as they broke apart. "You were right. I had no idea your tongue was capable of that. I thought its biggest function was sarcasm."

He chuckled. "You've got a lot to learn about me, Foster."

"Mmm," she said as he shifted her body so she was lying down on the couch. "You're a fantastic teacher, Dr Lightman."

"And you're a very good student." He kissed her again as he climbed over her and lowered himself on top of her. She gasped as she felt him slide inside her, and he tore his lips from hers and looked deeply into her eyes.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this moment, Gill." He pulled back and pushed in again, watching as she bit her lip and increased her grip on his arms.

"Me too." She had to fight to get the words out; right now, her body seemed to have forgotten how to speak, how to think, how to do anything but enjoy the feel of this man inside her.

He began to thrust harder and she rocked her hips as he rode her faster and faster. The oral had been incredible, but this… The feel of him inside her, such a perfect fit, was more than she'd ever dreamed. He slowed his rhythm slightly, and she opened her eyes. She knew he didn't want to come without her, and she smiled to show him just how close she was. His hand reached between them to stroke her, and he rubbed small circles over her clit as he continued to pump inside her.

"Cal!" she cried, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, gripping him tightly.

"Come for me, love," he whispered. The sound of his voice, that accent that she loved, and his touch was enough to push her over the edge. She arched her back as another cry burst from her lips and her second orgasm of the night crashed over her in exquisite waves. He thrust inside her once more and she felt him empty himself inside her, a deep cry erupting from his throat.

He stayed inside her for a few moments as they both waited for their breathing to return to normal. Not wanting to crush her, he regretfully pulled out of her, sensing her unhappiness at the loss of contact by her slight whimper. He settled himself so he was lying on his back, then pulled her towards him again, resting her head on his shoulder. She wrapped one leg around him, and the feel of her warmth and wetness against his thigh sent a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

She sighed contently as they embraced – it felt so good, so right to be in his arms, she didn't ever want to leave. "That was definitely worth the risk," she murmured, and he smiled.

"Glad we finally gave us a chance," he said, and felt her nod. He kissed her hair, breathing in the smell of her. She felt so perfect in his arms, he never wanted to let her go.

Suddenly she sat up, her eyes wide. "Cal… you weren't recording tonight, were you?"

"I'm always recording, love," he said with a wicked grin. "But we can delete that file, don't worry."

"Yes!" She pushed him off the couch. "Delete it right now."

"Oi!" He said as he landed with a small thud on the floor.

"Sorry." A half smile graced her lips, but then she looked serious again. "Delete. Now."

"Alright, alright." He walked towards the computer, and she jumped off the couch and followed him.

"What, don't trust me?" he asked as he pulled up the file.

"No, of course I do."

"What then?" He raised his eyebrows at her, then grinned. "Oh – you want to see it."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"I don't!"

"Right, I'll just delete it then, shall I?" His finger hovered over the button, and he tried to suppress a laugh as she struggled to hide the mixture of arousal and irritation on her face.

"I – well, I mean… obviously, we have to delete it, there's no way we can leave it lying around on the computers for anyone to find. If anyone else saw it…"

"Quite right." He nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Interesting choice of words though, Foster. If anyone else saw it… implying that it would be perfectly okay for us to see it."

"Well…" A blush rose on her cheeks and he grinned.

"I've got a better idea." He tapped a few buttons, quickly transferring the file to disc, then hit delete. "There. Gone from the system completely, including the backed up hard drive."

She locked her eyes on the small disc in his hand. "You'd better not let that fall into the wrong hands."

He grinned. "I'll try not to."

"I mean it!" She swatted his arm playfully.

He continued to grin at her. "Now, as much as I dislike saying these words… let's get dressed." She pouted, and he ran his finger along her bottom lip before stroking her jaw as he kissed her deeply. When they broke apart, he said huskily, "Let's get dressed, go home, get undressed again…" He smirked.

"And then what, Dr Lightman?" she breathed as he ran a hand down her back and over the curve of her ass.

"And then, perhaps…" His eyes glinted wickedly as he waved the disc at her. "We could watch a movie?"