Lie to Me and its characters are creations of Samuel Baum and copyrighted by 20th Century Fox.

Unfortunately they are not mine.

A/N: An older story that i finally had edited. Big thanks to Starbuck0322 who is pretty amazing.

Part of her was pleased by his confession; a small part of her was shocked. And then there was the other, much larger part of her that couldn't conceal just how deep her feelings ran.

What Had Changed

Gillian sat on her couch, feet curled beneath her, one hand nursing a glass of amber liquid. Her office was dark, illuminated only by dim street lamps which hugged the sidewalk below.

She should have left hours ago, but she hadn't found the motivation to drive back to her empty apartment.

So she sat alone in her darkened oasis and took another large swig from her glass, willing the burning liquid currently warming her belly to quash the onslaught of thoughts swirling around her head.

It was past eleven and everyone had vacated the building hours ago. Normally, she would have been grateful for the silence that accompanied the empty office, but not today, not after the events of the afternoon.

As she sat staring blankly at her book case, she couldn't help but let her mind drift back to him.

What had changed between them?

Their relationship had become strained and the tension between them had become increasingly noticeable to everyone, especially over the last few months, since the whole Wallowski mess. However, despite her own anger and pain over it all, she didn't complain or hurl hurtful ultimatums at him.

No. She did what she always did. Gillian Foster remained loyal; "Loyal to a fault" was how he had put it.

And even after all of that, throughout the whole damn mess, she still stood faithfully by his side, her loyalties never wavering.

She thought they were getting better, getting back to the way they were before.

Before all...

All of this ...

Whatever this was.

But then he went and pulled another stunt, a long con, and kept her in the dark, yet again.

"Its cat and mouse, Gill. Not cats and mouse," he had told her. She couldn't help but feel her heart break all over again.

She knew he trusted her and that she trusted him. So why did he refuse to let her in? Why did he still refused to let her be part of the bloody game.

No, instead he decided to chase the leggy blonde and once again, she found herself sitting on the sideline, patiently waiting, ready to clean up another one of his messes.

She sighed, exhausted; both physically and mentally. Yet she still couldn't help letting her thoughts drift back to him and his words from earlier.

"You tell me we're okay."

She didn't say anything, just stared back at him. Though what he had said next brought about a flurry of emotion that she wasn't quite ready for.

"You know I've always had more trouble reading you then anyone else."

And what did he mean by that? Apart from the obvious, of course.

He had always said that she was a terrible liar; an open book, to him at least.

What couldn't he read?

She had always let him see her, wearing her feelings and emotions like a badge of honour. She didn't care because the only person who was able to see them and understand her, was the one person she couldn't hide from, nor ever wanted to.

She could remember looking at him intently, trying to digest this new piece of information.

Part of her was pleased by his confession; a small part of her was shocked. And then there was the other, much larger part of her that couldn't conceal just how deep her feelings ran.

Looking into his eyes, it was as if he was baring his soul, waiting for her to tell him that everything would be all right. That they were all right.

But she couldn't speak, couldn't move; all she could do was dumbly stare back.

She saw something within him shift, and in that instant, the air between them became thick. She had only seen a glimmer of it, before he re-fixed his mask.

But she saw it.

He let her see it.

Shame.

Regret.

Fear.

Love.

The last flicker of emotion made her heart beat faster and had almost knocked her over.

He must have known what he was doing by letting her see him.

He was crossing the invisible line that had been firmly put in place; an invisible barrier that had always existed between them.

He must have heard her breath catch in her throat, had seen her shiver involuntarily, and in that moment, he must have seen it, must have seen her reaction; her downward glance at his lips, back up to his eyes. Most notably, he must have seen her dilated pupils.

When she brought her eyes up to meet his, he must have found his answer.

She had looked back at him; gave a nervous smile. Then without warning, he had walked away, leaving her standing in his office.

Alone.

Confused.

What the fuck had happened?

Her mind was foggy and she couldn't think straight.

So now here she was sitting on her couch, in the comfortable confines of her darkened office, nursing her second, or was it her third, glass of scotch.

She drew in a shaky breath, followed by another defeated sigh and glanced toward the window.

That's when she saw him leaning against the door frame; staring at her, drinking her in. His eyes swept over her body slowly, taking in every inch of her slender frame.

It wasn't until she spoke his name that he seemed to come out of the haze that appeared to be lost in.

"Cal," she whispered.

It was all her mind allowed her to say. It was as if all the oxygen had been squeezed from her lungs; the moment she saw him standing there in her doorway.

His gaze finally reached her delicate face. His eyes searched her soft features, shadowed by the darkness, which engulfed her office.

Even in the dark he saw the down turned corners of her perfectly pink lips, the slight crease between her brows. When he arrived at her eyes, it only confirmed his earlier beliefs.

Her piercing blue orbs, now almost fully black, peering back at him.

Slowly he moved toward her, an almost predatory look in his eyes.

"Hello Darlin'."

Reviews appreciated constructive or otherwise :)