So when I say this is a total departure for me I really mean it. This is a true Hurt/ Comfort fic for those who like that kind of thing. For people who read me regularly, you may or may not like this one but I'd love to hear what you think anyway. 3 chaps so far and another one mostly written. I know just where this is going so I should crank this out pretty fast. There will be LOTS of ship exploration and there will certainly be some snutty bits as things progress along (can anyone say Cal/ Gillian sponge bath?). I'm leaving this T for now. Love to hear from those of you that like this kind of fic. Tell me whether you think I am doing a good job with this genre and what can be improved.

Unf. the first several chapters are a lot of set up, but I promise it will pick up soon.

This is the 3rd part in a series where I have used the same opening paragraph (worded exactly the same) to jump off in competly different directions. The first 2 are over on the M page.

I don't own Lie To Me and I really hate that it's fate is in the hands of Fox. GIVEMEMYSHOWBACK!

Gillian pushed open the door of Cal's office, nose buried in a file on their latest case. She looked up, puzzled when she found Cal not at his desk. She could have sworn she saw him come in here just a few minutes before. She glanced at the sliding door to his study and saw that it was closed. It was unusual for him to sequester himself in the study mid day but she assumed he wanted privacy for something. She stamped down her curiosity and turned to go when an audible groan from the direction of Cal's study caught her ear.

She rolled her eyes. So typical, and in the middle of the day no less. She was about to turn and go when a strained grunt, this one much more prolonged filtered through to her ears, followed by cursing and the shattering of glass. Concerned, she hurried over and pounded on the door. "Cal," she called, "are you alright?"

Not waiting for a response she pulled at the sliding door, relieved when it opened easily. Cal was on his knees on the floor surrounded by the remains of a large clay vase. He was holding a hand to his right side and making an awkward attempt to get back up on his feet. She immediately rushed to his side putting a hand beneath his shoulder.

"Oh my God Cal, what happened?" Even through his shirt she could feel the heat rolling off his body and the hair around his neck and forehead was slightly damp. His face was deathly pale.

"I'm fine," he protested, leaning heavily on her arm as she helped him to his feet. "Loker's been in my study moving things about again is all."

"Cal, you're burning up." She put a hand to his forehead and he shied away from her touch.

"I'm fine; I just ate some bad oysters or something."

He was nearly doubled over as he made his way across the room and she fought the urge to rush to his side, observing him intently. She watched as he sat down on the couch. He winced when he bent and his hand immediately went back to his right side. "Cal, how long have you been feeling like this?"

"Are you mothering again?" he said defensively.

"No, I'm your partner and your friend and I'm concerned about you. This could be something serious, now answer me," she insisted.

He glared at her and rolled his eyes but was obviously in far too much discomfort to really put up a fight. "Started this morning I guess, though it was more painful here." He gestured to the center of his lower abdomen. "It went away for a bit but came back with a vengeance just after lunch. Hurt so bad it made me sick. Really Gillian, I just need to spend some time in the bathroom and then sleep it off."

She looked at him with a critical eye. "Does this hurt?" She pressed against his right side gently and he let out a pained gasp.

"Jesus, who are you? The Maquis de Sade? Just leave it alone." He held his side, guarding against further probing by Gillian.

"I don't think I will leave it alone Cal. I think you should let me take you to the hospital," she said firmly.

"Seriously Gill, I'm fine." He attempted to stand but sank back down immediately with a muffled groan.

"No Cal, you're not. Right now you have two choices. Either you go quietly and let me drive you to the hospital or I call 911 and they can drag you out on a stretcher. The choice is completely yours." Her tone left no room for argument.

He collapsed into the back of the couch and she could tell that he was rapidly losing the will to fight.

She stood up and held out her hands to help him up. He simply glared at her. "Cal, either you let me help you or I go get Loker and he can carry you out."

"Oh now that's going too far Foster." His tone conveyed injury.

Reluctantly he held out his hands to her and she helped him stand. Once he was on his feet she slipped beneath his left arm, holding him gingerly around the waist as he draped an arm across her shoulders.

They made their way slowly to the elevator. Cal insisted she release her grip on him until they were out of sight of the office staff but her hand still hovered protectively at the small of his back. By the time they reached her car he was sweating heavily and Gillian began to question the wisdom of not calling an ambulance.

Once inside her car, Cal relaxed against the headrest and closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow as she sped out of the parking lot and plotted the quickest route to George Washington Hospital. She reached out and took his hand and he squeezed her fingers in return, turning his head in her direction. He wasn't complaining about her driving which was worrisome and his jaw was set tightly against the pain. His hand clammy but she could feel his pulse beating strongly and rapidly against her wrist. She let the reassuring rhythm quiet the pounding of her own heart as she pushed the throttle to the floor.

Hang on Cal; Just please hang on.

So yeah, I was kind of nervous about publishing this because its so different for me. Lets just see how this goes!