Title: That Look
Authors: csiAngel & Lightwoman
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: We do not own Lie to me*
Summary: It was the seventeenth time today that Gillian had noticed that look on Cal's face…
A/N: Here be the result of "Project L'inspiration", a venture to get both of us back into fic writing. We took it in turns to write one sentence each; no discussion as to what was going on or where the fic should go. Just writing. We hope you like it.

… … …

It was the seventeenth time today that Gillian had noticed that look on Cal's face. This moment, however, was different from the others, for the simple reason that, for the first time, he'd noticed her noticing it.

His eyes caught hers before she had chance to look away and their gazes locked; strangely, both feeling like they had been caught doing wrong.

She was the first to look away, her eyes flying to her jacket as she fumbled with the zip, preparing herself for the abrasive wind she'd face when she stepped outside. For several seconds she could still feel the heat of him watching her and, for a brief moment, she thought he might actually voice whatever thoughts lay behind that look. But silence echoed around the room, and when she had finished zipping up her jacket and swinging her bag over her shoulder and he had still not said a word, she forced herself to meet his eyes again, hoping this might prompt a reaction, or perhaps even a confession.

Time ticked by and he didn't speak, but he didn't look away - didn't so much as change the expression on his face - and, her heart beating increasingly louder in her ears, she found herself compelled to stay, to see what would happen next.

His eyes didn't leave her face, although they swept from her eyes to her lips and back again, before he broke the silence by uttering a single word.

"'Night."

She tried to swallow her disappointment, and forced a brief smile as her hand reached for the door handle. Her fingers closed around the metal but she couldn't bring herself to leave: Seventeen looks today; countless others in the last few weeks, she needed to know what was going on.

"Cal," she began, wondering why his name suddenly sounded different, felt different, as she wrapped her lips around the word. She left her hand poised on the door, turning only her head to regard him as she took a nervous breath.

He merely raised an eyebrow at her in question, and she felt a surge of annoyance; couldn't he tell what she was asking him when she said his name, couldn't he understand the meaning, like always?

"Don't do that," she warned him; she wasn't prepared to carry on wondering what was going on; if he let her leave now, she was done.

She knew he was on the verge of responding, "Don't do what?", she could see the words half forming, but instead he reached for her hand that still lay resting on the door handle, and gently closed his own over it. A tremble rippled through her and she hid an excited smile by turning to look at their hands, as he stepped closer to her and whispered, "I'm not entirely sure what to do instead, love."

"Just talk to me, Cal," she said quietly, keeping her hand still for fear that if she moved hers, he would too.

"You know words aren't really my thing, darling," he quipped, slowly stroking his thumb across the back of her hand.

"Then talk to me here," she said softly, reaching her other hand up to brush lightly against his face, her eyes locked onto his.

He lifted his free hand to rest upon hers, holding her palm against his cheek as he admitted, "I think I'm too well practised at hiding it."

"You haven't been hiding completely from me today, though, have you?"

He smiled, small and sheepish, and offered a slight shrug, softly telling her, "I thought you weren't looking."

"I'm always looking, Cal," she said, her voice as soft as his and a gentle smile on her face.

He shuffled closer to her, tightening his hold on both of her hands; "And what did you see?"

She hesitated; did she really have the courage to voice her thoughts aloud, and risk being wrong? From their current position and proximity it certainly seemed like she was right, but even then, did she really have the courage to start that conversation?

"I saw... something I gave up looking for a long time ago," she said at last, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear it.

His surprise at her admission was not concealed at all; his eyes widening, jaw dropping beneath her touch.

"I'd certainly given up hope that I'd see it from you," she continued, her voice picking up a little in volume as she tried to gather the strength to continue.

He appeared genuinely astounded that she would have hoped for that, frowning as he asked her, "You used to look for it?"

"Well, I... I know I shouldn't have done, when we were both... But I used to think I had caught a glimpse of it, sometimes, and then realised it was just my imagination, twisting things into something they weren't; something they never could be."

For a second she thought that Cal was too shocked to respond, he was studying her closely, seeming to search for his words in her face.

He must have found them, because after a few moments he said gently, "Do you still think those things never can be?"

She felt her lips tugging into an anticipatory smile, and watched his do the same as she made him wait for her spoken answer. "Do you?" she asked, her eyes glued to his face so she could try to gauge his reaction.

His eyes swept her face, her lips, a look of complete adoration on his; "I think... you're standing way too close for me to think about anything except, well, that," he told her quietly.

A small giggle escaped her lips, and he watched as she grew even more adorable and gorgeous right before his eyes. His entire being seemed to brighten in response to her laughter and he grinned back at her; everything he was terrified about earlier suddenly so simple.

"You know, Cal," she said, her laughter having subsided, "if you weren't too busy trying to hide from me all the time, you might be able to open your own eyes a little wider."

"I wouldn't have believed what I saw even if I had seen it."

Her eyes bored into his and she made no attempt to remove her hand from his cheek or his grasp; instead she lightly stroked her thumb along his jaw and said, "I think it's time you started believing."

His voice was becoming difficult to find as the air around them grew heavy with anticipation; he leaned into her and his words trembled as he whispered, "Looks can be deceiving."

She swallowed, her eyes darting furiously between his eyes and his lips; the distance between them was now virtually nothing, and it was making her heart race. Her voice as soft as his had been, she told him, "What you see now is no lie, Cal."

While she could tell that he believed her, there was still a trace of doubt on his face; this, she saw now, was not doubt of how she felt about him, but doubt as to whether or not he was deserving of those feelings. There had been times when she had doubted that too; times she had cursed herself and the feelings that wouldn't allow her to walk away. And now that they were close - closer than they'd ever been - walking away was the last thing she was going to do, or the last thing she was going to let him do.

"Cal," she prompted when he gave no response other than to stare at her, "Kiss me."

She didn't miss the surprise on his face, even though there was only half a second where she could see him properly before his lips were pressed against hers.

She closed her eyes, pulled him closer, slightly disbelieving herself that this was actually happening: Finally. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders and his tangled themselves in her hair as he pulled her even closer, their bodies pressed tightly together.

There could be no doubt now, for either of them, as to whether or not their feelings were requited, and also as to whether or not admitting them was a good idea.

The intensity of his kiss was overwhelming, but more incredible than that was the warmth spreading through her body as she focussed on the thought that finally, finally, they were doing this: finally, they were going to be together.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling - grinning if it hadn't been restricted by his lips - and that action caused Cal to pull back, only far enough to see her face, his lips quirking into their own smile as he regarded her with an eyebrow raised in question. "Alright there darling?"

For the smug tone of his words, she shot him the amused look of feigned disapproval that she so often offered him. "'Alright' is perhaps an understatement, as you well know," she said, swatting at his arm as she drank in the playful grin he offered her.

"Didn't want to be too presumptuous," he smirked, leaning in to resume their kiss.

"Would it be too presumptuous," she murmured as she pulled away slightly, "to suggest we go home?"

"Well that depends what you are presuming we'll do when we get there," he teased, touching his lips to hers, once, twice; trying to entice her into kissing him again.

She kissed him quickly, pulling back to speak but punctuating each word with another brush of her lips against his, telling him, "You'll find out when we get there."

He captured her lips after that last word, kissing her slowly and softly, reverently, then he dropped back, waited for her eyes to flutter open, and answered her questioning gaze with, "Gillian... I think I'm in love with you."

"You think?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and giving him a playful smile.

"All right, I'm in love with you," he told her, confidently, a wide smile sweeping across his lips as he uttered the words, "I never thought I'd be telling you that."

"I never thought you would either," she admitted, unable to remove the smile from her face.

"Good to know I can still surprise you after all these years."

She reached for the door handle again, but kept her other hand firmly in his as she tugged him towards her at the same time she pulled the door open. "Let's go home, Cal."

His hesitation was so brief, most people wouldn't have noticed it; but she did, and she understood it, which was why she was prompted to say softly, "You know I love you too."

Grinning again, he dropped his arm across her shoulders and fell into step beside her, admitting, "I do, love, but can't for the life of me understand why."

She looped her arm around his waist, grinning up at him as she said, "Oh, it's the accent, I think, purely the accent."

"Ah, yeah, voice expert: I should have known," he chuckled, holding her close as they headed for home.

THE END