A/N: Once again, bevfank inspired this "Secret Santa" add-on. It's a little late, and I know this angle's been done before, but I'm convinced that there was/should have been a deleted scene where we find out who Cal's secret santa was AND why Gillian was so anxious at the party. This is me trying to figure out what that scene would have been like.

Disclaimer: I don't own any television shows. Not one.

Gift Exchange

Cal let a smile slip out as he picked up the rectangular, green and red present from the table. This was the first time he'd lain eyes on it, but it had been in the back of his mind for days now. After two long flights and one very unpleasant interrogation, the anticipation was just a little too much. So, stealing a glance on both sides to make sure no one was watching, he slid the present under his coat and tried to saunter off to his office as nonchalantly as possible.

Only minutes ago, Emily had been hiding on the staircase, waiting for his arrival. Now that she knew he was safe, she would be too distracted by her new boyfriend to notice his brief absence. Here, in his sanctuary, he could take a deep breath, relax, and do something he wasn't supposed to. What could cheer him up better than that? He took a seat on the soft couch and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

"It's not time yet."

Cal smiled at the voice that came from behind him. He turned to find Foster, who was leaning against the doorframe in a dark red dress that looked far too lovely on her for his own good. She nodded at the present in his hands as if to playfully scold him for neglecting to wait his turn.

"It's my present, innit? I say that it's time to open it now."

The way that he felt when she came and sat next to him—he wasn't sure how to describe. Then again, that was something of a familiar feeling around her.

"Do you want to be alone?" she said, while her eyes asked him if it was okay to stay. He put a hand on her knee and let her see how much he appreciated her company.

"I suppose you have the right to watch me open your present, dontcha?"

She laughed. "How do you know it's mine? It's secret santa, 'secret' being the operative word."

"Oh, that." He looked down at the present, then back at her. "Emily told me, or rather, she tried not to tell me."

She laughed again, this time with sincerity. "You have no idea how hard it is to surprise you, do you? Alright, I'm the one getting impatient now. Open it."

He spent a second studying her before obeying. There had been something about her that night that had seemed a little off, though the fatigue and the occasion had stopped him from mentioning it. He hadn't missed the nervous smile and change in body language, but also hadn't asked himself what she was so anxious about. He felt the edge of the wrapping paper and hoped the answer was inside.

Years ago, he had mastered the art of simultaneously unwrapping a gift and watching the face of the giver. Now, he cataloged his partner's expressions as he tore away the paper strip by strip. It wasn't until the paper was gone that he saw that he was holding the framed portrait of a wrinkled man in his sixties.

"Mayor Truman?" Cal turned to see that his companion's eyes were shining brighter than Emily's tree.

"Yes. Our mayor. This was taken at a benefit he did for foster children." She slowly tugged the picture out of his hands and traced Mayor Truman's features with her index finger. "See? Raised cheeks, extra wrinkling around the eyes, which, if I'm not mistaken, have something of a twinkle."

He leaned in to get a better look. "He's genuinely happy."

"Yes, he is." She tilted her head to the side as she handed the picture back to him. "I thought you'd like a reminder that not all politicians are as corrupt as the Komiskys of the world."

He could tell that she was startled when he put an arm around her, drew her in, and kissed her on the cheek. The blush he saw told him that she didn't take offense to the gesture.

"Thanks, Love."

She nodded to show her gratitude, but the nervousness he'd detected earlier hadn't gone away. It wasn't until she smiled that he put it all together.

"Foster?"

"Yes?"

"There's more where this came from, isn't there?"

"Perhaps," she said, hesitating for a second before reaching behind her. Seemingly out of thin air, she produced a cube-shaped present wrapped in the same paper as the portrait had been. Before, she had shown excitement and joy while watching him unwrap her gift. Now, an uneasiness had crept over her features, and she displayed flashes of fear, anxiety, and embarrassment as she watched him reveal a white cardboard box. When he opened the box and took out a small, black earpiece, she was holding her breath. She must really be going out on a limb with this one. Why?

He cocked his head at the item that was causing Foster so much distress. It seemed harmless enough, just a little earpiece attached to a lanyard. He shot her a quizzical look.

"Now, before you say anything, I just want to explain myself," Foster said, letting out a self-scolding sigh. "I was just going to get you the picture, but when you were in that bunker and the signal went dead . . ." She lowered her head into her hands, and his arm found its way back around her shoulders. "I—I know that it's part of the job, Cal. We've been doing some really good work, and our firm is starting to get attention from higher ups. I get that. But when that signal went out, I realized . . . I realized that we're not equipped for this kind of work. You did so well out there, and it's not going to be long before they want you back, and if you have to go to that place again, I don't want you to end up like Franco."

The pain in her eyes made him shudder and recoil, if only slightly. "No, Gill, it's not going to be like that."

"Cal, Komisky said our government put him out there, and just gave up when the battery in his tracking device ran out. He was stranded with no way home. Now, I'm not naïve enough to think that there won't be another trip to Afghanistan, but I'm definitely not going to send you out there unprepared." Like she had before, she took Cal's present out of his hand to show him something he'd missed. "This is a military grade communication headset, with a GPS tracking system. I was able to convince the deputy assistant to get them for me."

"Them?" He looked at the single earpiece as Foster gave it back to him.. "How many are there?"

"Just two. One for you, one for me. They link to each other via satellite, so that even when our usual methods of communication go down, I'll still know where you are, and you'll still be able to reach me." She closed her eyes and let out another sigh. "Now, I know that it might be a little smothering, but it's really important to me. I don't want to sit in that lab and wonder if you're still alive."

The second kiss on her cheek was specifically designed to melt her insecurities away. A glance in her direction showed that it wasn't quite as successful as Cal had hoped.

"Right you are." He took the lanyard that was attached to the earpiece and put it around his neck. "I'll wear it. But don't think that I don't know what this is about."

"Oh, you think you know, do you?"

"This," he said, pointing to his newest piece of jewelry, "is a friendship necklace. Em used to have one. As I understand it, they're traditionally two necklaces with pieces that fit together into a heart, but this works much better. Shall I carve 'BFF' into the side?"

The chuckle that escaped Gillian's lips was as irresistible as it was contagious. Now that her reasons behind her gift were out in the open, both occupants of the study found that the anxiety had dissipated, and Cal found himself especially pleased with the idea that Gillian was so concerned with his safety. Without a thought, he leaned towards her and planted a kiss on her mouth.

"Merry Christmas, Love," he said. Before she had a chance to respond, he gathered his things, gave her a mischievous smile, and left to rejoin the party.

Gillian, now with nothing but shredded wrapping paper at her feet and the taste of Cal on her lips, let out a breath and leaned back into the couch. In her mind, she replayed the image of a screen going to static, recalled the feel of clutching at Emily's sweater, and, after a moment of hesitation, remembered the way it felt when she realized that her best friend could be lost forever. She took in another deep breath and let it out as a sigh, finally finding the courage to say out loud the words that she'd been afraid of saying earlier.

"Cal," she said to the empty room, "when you were in that bunker and the signal went dead, I realized . . . I realized that I'm in love with you."

She let the silence creep into her heart and take the fear away, then, let out another sigh and basked in the stillness of the evening.

THE END