Gillian walked into Cal's office.

"What's up, Foster?" Cal asked.

"I need to talk to you," she said solemnly. She didn't try to hide her micro expressions, but he didn't see, his attention already focused back on the video he was replaying on his computer screen.

"Sure," Cal agreed distractedly, "but later, yeah? I'm kinda in the middle uh somethin' here."

"Why don't you come to my office when you're done."

"Yeah, sure, whateva, luv."

"Cal."

He looked up, finally alerted by her tone. "Yeah, luv?"

"It's important, okay?" she emphasized, staring at him.

He frowned. Whatever it was, it was serious, he could tell. "Not more on the finances is it?" he protested, "'cause I gotta tell ya, I'm really not in the mood. I still haven't forgiven ya for the stunt with the bank." He watched her flinch slightly, followed by a look of anger, then resignation. And … sadness?

"It's important, Cal," she repeated before turning and walking from his office.

Cal stared after her as she walked away. What was she on about, then? Clearly it was the finances – that had been obvious from her face. But usually she'd just come out with it, regardless of his attempts to put her off. She never had a problem vocalizing her complaints in that area … or any other, he thought resentfully. The money, how he ran the firm – even the women he dated. He hadn't been entirely joking about her acting like his wife … without the benefits, of course. Well, he'd bloody well had enough, and he'd tell her so. This was the Lightman Group, not the Foster Group. He'd run it however the hell he wanted to, and she'd just have to accept that. He buried the burn of guilt he felt in the fire of righteous indignation he'd been feeding for the last week, ever since he realized she'd frozen the firm's assets.

With a muttered curse, he turned back to the screen, putting the matter from his mind.

Four hours later, he surfaced again, looked around and realized that the office had emptied and it was nearly eight o'clock. He remembered that Foster was waiting to rake over the coals for something or other. With any luck, she'd given up and gone home, and he could avoid the conversation until tomorrow. He got up and stretched, then headed for the coffee room, but on the way there, he realized that the light in her office was still on and she was waiting for him.

Bollocks, he thought. Might as well get it over with.

He changed direction and walked into her office, expecting her to yell at him for making her wait so long. But she just stared up at him, her hands resting on her desk, one thumb rubbing back and forth across the back of the other. He frowned. It wasn't like to her to let him see such an obvious tell of nervousness. He peered into her face, cocking his head to one side. She looked … resolute. He'd have to cut her off at the pass.

"Listen, Fosta, I'm not gonna listen to anotha lecture on the state of the firm's bank account," he began firmly. "You had no right to freeze my assets, and I'm tired of you telling me how to run the business, my personal life, and everything else. Enough, luv, alright?"

"Actually, I did have the right to freeze our assets, and I did have the right to tell you how to run the business, or at least, give you input. But I agree. Enough."

He looked at her uneasily. He wasn't stupid enough to think he'd won the argument that easily. Before he could puzzle out what she was really saying, she continued.

"I'm done, Cal. I'm leaving."

"Whaddya mean, ya leavin'?" he demanded.

"I'm leaving the Lightman Group." She said it calmly enough, but her thumb rubbed even faster over the back of her other hand.

Cal felt a rush of anger, followed quickly by a thrill of fear. She couldn't leave. She was his partner, she was the Robin to his Batman, she did all the day-to-day crap he couldn't stand to deal with … and she was his friend. They'd been friends for years, she wouldn't just leave … . Relief poured over him. She wouldn't leave. Not the Gillian Foster he knew. It was her mission in life to mother everyone she came in contact with, first and foremost him. No way she was going to let him fend for himself. This was just a bargaining ploy, to get him to cede more authority to her. Well, it wasn't going to work. In the end, she'd cave, as she always did to him.

"So what," he said, "Now I'm supposed to beg you to stay, promise to be a good boy? Not bloody likely, luv, so you might as well give it up now and save us both a lot of time."

"Cal," she said sharply. "I'm leaving the Lightman Group. I've had the papers drawn up. You don't have to dissolve the company, I'm just withdrawing as a partner. I've got a copy ready to send to your attorney for review but I wanted to tell you first.

Cal was floored. If she'd paid her attorney to draw up papers, she was serious. He tried another tack. "I'm not buying you out, Fosta," he said. "You're the one who keeps telling me we're broke."

She snorted. "I know better than you how broke we are. I'm not asking you to buy me out. I am asking you to release me from any monetary claims against the partnership, including the outstanding debt."

"Why shouldn't you be responsible for half the debt?" he demanded angrily. "You keep yammering on about how we're a partnership and it's your company, too."

She slammed her hand down on the desk, making him jump. "Because it's your debt, Cal!" she yelled. "You borrowed against the company to buy out Zoe. You decided to give up our biggest contract. You're the one who is facing a lawsuit to retrieve the book advance you put in your personal account, and don't try to tell me you weren't planning to take money out of the company's account to pay it back, because I know that's why you went to the bank. Enough, Cal. I can't control you. All I can do is try to protect myself, and that's what I'm doing."

"Well if I'm not buying you out, how d'ya think you can afford to leave?"

"Cal, I can't afford not to leave. Twice in the last twelve months I haven't been able to draw my salary because we were in the red. I can't keep doing that. And I can't keep worrying about what you'll do next to put us further in the hole."

Cal was shocked. He hadn't realized she had given up her paychecks. But he couldn't give ground now. This was war. He couldn't let her win, because winning meant she walked away from him. And that was unthinkable.

"So what, ya gonna go back to DoD? Or hang out a shingle and start giving therapy to bored housewives?" he mocked.

"I'm going to open my own consulting business," she said.

"You can't go into the lie detectin' business on your own. You signed a non-compete agreement," he said triumphantly.

"No, I offered to include a non-compete in the partnership agreement, but you refused, because you weren't willing to sign one yourself," she said patiently.

"Of course I wasn't, I'm the one with the knowledge – you learned it all from me. Why should I agree not to compete?"

Gillian grew red in the face. "You arrogant son of a bitch. What am I, your intern? I brought something to the table, too, something you obviously thought was valuable, because you begged me to join you. I was stupid enough to believe you when you said you wanted me to be your partner, but I should have known better," she said bitterly. Collecting herself, she sighed in frustration. "Look, it doesn't matter, that's not the kind of consulting I'm planning to do. I want to teach negotiation skills, advise on managing difficult employees, that kind of thing."

"You'll be bored in two weeks," he said, stabbing his finger at her. "You'll be begging me to take you back."

"Maybe," she conceded, "but at least there's a significantly lower chance that I'll be blown up or attacked in my own home. A little boredom sounds good right now. If I get too bored, I can always consult for the Lightman Group," she said with a crooked smile.

He stood up, pushed his hand through his hair, walked to the corner of her office, moved back to her and got in her face.

"Oi, Fosta, this isn't about money or safety. I know ya, luv. This is your passive-aggressive way of trying to control me, and I won't have it, you hear me?"

She leaped to her feet and leaned in. "No, Cal, I'm done trying to control you – haven't you heard a word I said?" she shouted. "I'm trying to control my own life! I'm so tired of not being able to control my own life. I couldn't control my father's drinking, I couldn't control Alec's drug use, I couldn't –" she choked. "I couldn't control them taking Sophie away from me. And I can't control you, or even the company I'm supposedly a partner in. I'm so tired of being subject to everyone else's whims. I just need to control my own life!" She turned away, swiping at her eyes.

That shut him up. He had watched her face as she spoke and realized that this was the truth. This was the real reason she was leaving. And the panic set in in earnest, because he wasn't sure he had the right to try to stop her.

He walked up behind her and pulled her around into his arms. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he could feel her hot tears against his skin. The righteous indignation burned out, and the guilt that he had reduced her to this flamed up in its place.

"Shhh, luv, it's okay," he comforted her, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other stroking her back. "It's okay. We can figga something out, yeah?"

She shook her head against him, even as she gripped her arms tighter around his back. "Not this time, Cal. I-I can't do it anymore. You have to let me go. Please. Just let me go."

She pushed out of his arms, grabbed her purse and walked past him out of her office. He didn't try to stop her. And as he watched her walk down the hall, he realized she wasn't coming back.