"You're still here?" Cal popped his head through the glass door of Gillian's office, the surprise evident in his voice.

She just nodded in acknowledgment of his presence and question but didn't elaborate.

Cal raised his eyebrows and tried again, "Don't you have some place better to be? With what's his name Clark?"

"Mark." Gillian seethed and then shook her head. Her reaction took him by surprise, something must have happened between them.

"What happened? He too busy?" He asked as he stepped into her office and closed the door behind him.

"None of your business, really, Cal." She countered without even looking up from her paperwork.

"Can't a friend ask a friend what's wrong?" Cal shrugged his shoulders.

"Only when you ask, it's never just a question. You prod for information." Gillian laughed dejectedly, "You're like the Spanish Inquisition, Cal."

"Ok", Cal nodded and crossed the distance to her in a few quick strides, rounding her desk and reaching for her bottom drawer.

"Cal! What the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed annoyed and startled, when his hand brushed against her leg.

"If you won't talk to me then perhaps you want to talk to our friend Captain Morgan?" Cal raised his eyebrows. Gillian seemed undecided. "Well, I know I need a drink and seeing as you and Torres raided my office stash, I have to help myself to your supply." He explained as he pulled out two glasses and a bottle of rum from her drawer.

She watched him open the bottle and pour two fingers worth of booze into each glass. He left one on her desk and carried the other one with the bottle to the couch where he made himself comfortable. Gillian groaned inwardly. She'd never get rid of him now.

"So let's try this again. What happened? Do I need to break Mark's bones?" Cal asked in jest. Though really, he wasn't kidding. He'd kill any of her courtiers if they'd hurt her, without even so much as a second thought, in the blink of an eye.

"Let it go, Cal." The glass of rum suddenly seemed very alluring. It definitely would help in putting up with her nosy business partner. With a quick swift she downed the golden liquid and felt the smooth but slightly burning sensation travel down her throat.

"Ok." Cal shrugged his shoulders and followed her suit, immediately re-filling his glass. He held up the bottle for her and when she nodded he walked back to her desk to pour her another drink. On his way back he muttered, "I always knew that wanker was good for nothing."

"Cal!" She reprimanded him. Cal had never liked Mark. She didn't know why because Mark was perfect. Perhaps that was what annoyed Cal. He didn't like perfectionism, he considered perfect people too good to be true. If you're trying to be so perfect you must be hiding something. She'd made it clear from the get go that Mark was off limits to Cal, if he valued their friendship. After all the crap he'd put her through over the last months, Cal had no right at all to meddle with her personal life. She'd told him plainly to man up; if she had to put up with Wallowski, he could tolerate Mark.

"We broke up", She sighed and downed the second glass. Cal's head jerked up and he stared at her incredulously. She'd broken it off with Mr. Perfect? When? Why?

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record, what happened?"

"We didn't want the same in life." Gillian said cryptically.

"Who would have thought? Mr. Perfect isn't so perfect at all." Cal sneered.

"Would you stop it already?" Gillian reprimanded him, "What has he ever done to you for you to hate him so much?"

Because he stole you from me. Cal looked at her at a loss for words. He couldn't tell her. Not like this. Not when she'd just broken up with another guy. Because he took what was supposed to be mine. Don't you understand, Gillian? You were supposed to be mine! Cal shook his head and Gillian looked at him a bit weird. Could she read his thoughts? Had his mask slipped? Was she able to see his jealousy? His tormented love for her? He sighed. How could he tell her how much it had hurt him to see her date another man? How hard it was for him to watch her flaunt her happiness in his face day after day? They really didn't have good timing, did they ever?

After Claire he thought things would be different. He didn't want to ambush her while she was still hurting but after admitting his feelings for Gillian to his daughter, he really could not see any reason not to tell the woman he loved how much she meant to him. So he played it cool. He was there for her, a strong shoulder to lean on while she went through her grieving process. He thought it would be in incredibly poor taste to tell a woman you loved her while she was mourning the death of someone special. So he waited. And waited. And waited for some sign or another that it was ok to broach the subject of courting her. Finally, the bounce in her step came back, confidence returned to her words and actions and she walked more upright again. Cal figured the time had come only to receive the worst punch to his guts he'd ever received. It was ten times worse than an actual physical kick into the stomach.

"You seem happier in the last few days", he commented while they were having dinner.

Gillian toyed with her hair and blushed lightly. "You noticed?" Could people really see she had changed or was it just Cal and his expert skills of observation? She wasn't ready yet for the world to know.

Cal nodded and smiled. "I'm glad. I was worried about you. Do you think you've finally gotten over Claire's death?"

Gillian nodded and debated over telling him. He'd been her support system through this ordeal. She'd never thought it possible but he was her pillar of strength. Cal could be extremely caring and compassionate when he wanted to be. Maybe he deserved to know. "I met someone…"

The teasing smile on his face fell, "What?" He felt sick like from a blow to the guts.

Gillian rolled her eyes embarrassed, "His name is Mark. We met at this support group. I know I said I didn't want to attend their meetings but I thought, what the heck, I should give it a try at least once. It didn't really help me, but I met this guy there. He lost his wife to cancer a couple years ago. He's running the group…"

"What?" Cal didn't like how his voice sounded an octave higher than it normally did. Panic was coursing through his veins as he tuned out her words. He had not expected this! He'd taken her out for dinner because he wanted to find out what her thoughts would be on pursuing a relationship between them. And here she was explaining to him that she'd met this great guy at a meeting for people grieving the loss of a loved one. Was that even allowed? How was this possible? Why did the universe hate him so much? Didn't he do the right thing by waiting for her to be ready for a relationship? He'd tried so hard to be there for her through the ordeal, prepped her up again and this wanker got to reap the seeds of his hard work?

"We broke up," Gillian started but stopped abruptly, undecided how and whether to continue at all. She was still trying to defend Mark but hadn't he unceremoniously dumped her when he'd found out? Made her feel insufficient and like damaged goods? "He dumped me when he found out I couldn't have any children."

Cal's head jerked up in anger, "I beg you pardon?" Did that fucking idiot really have the nerve to dump Gillian because she couldn't bear him any children? Had their relationship really advanced so fast in the six months they'd been dating that they had started talking about marriage and possibly starting a family? "I didn't know you guys were so serious." He added lamely.

Gillian nodded, "It only made sense. Mark and I we were just so in synch and getting on so well. We both lost a spouse, Mark knew what it's like to rebuild your life from scratch when you're suddenly out on your own after being in the same relationship for the better part of your adults life." The way she worded her response made Cal realize that Gillian's divorce had been very different from his. The Alec she'd separated from was not the man she had married ten years ago. In a way she had lost a husband – to drugs – even if Alec Foster was still very much alive.

"Wow. I'm sorry, Gillian, I don't really know what to say." Cal was still reeling from the shock that the love of his life had seriously considered marrying another man. She would've been lost to him forever. Again. So really, the problem was…he wasn't really very sorry after all. And he was scared he was doing a piss poor job of hiding his true feelings from Gillian.

"No, you're not. You never liked him." He may have been wearing his stoic mask but Gillian had learned from the best and managed to see through many of his lies.

"That's not what I meant." She shouldn't have the fact that she was infertile thrown into her face every day, especially not by the man who supposedly loved her.

"I know. It's ok, Cal. I'm glad I found out now rather than five years into my new marriage. I just…" She struggled finding the right words. "I just can't believe this happened! I mean things were going so good and then this. Mark's such a caring person, I can't believe he can't get past the fact that we'd not be able to have biological children."

"What did he say? Maybe it's just a misunderstanding?" Cal suggested. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he try to save Gillian's relationship with another man?

"Oh no, Cal, he was very clear, no room for interpretation." She shook her head vehemently. "He told me in no uncertain terms that he does not want to adopt children with me."

"His loss, love." Cal tried to reassure her. "I wouldn't hesitate a second to adopt a child with you."

Gillian's head jerked up in surprise and Cal realized he'd let slip more than he wanted. Oh he'd put his foot deep into his mouth this time. How could you backpedal on a blunder like this? "What I mean, love, is… now don't get me wrong… I just want to…" Christ, there are really no words in the English language to make what he said sound better, were there? "My point is, as a friend…" He gave up and downed another glass of rum. And a second one right after. He was going to pay for this but maybe if he drank enough alcohol he could erase this faux pas from his memory forever. Maybe if he drank more than enough alcohol he could erase this moment from both their memories…

Gillian stood up and walked over with a huge grin on her face. He really was cute when he got flustered, and she said so: "You're adorable, when you get all flustered, Cal Lightman." She mused and kissed him on the forehead, "I knew what you meant, Cal." She held her glass out for him to give her a refill and added, "Thanks for your vote of confidence in me."

"I mean it Gill." Cal explained while he poured her another drink, "You'd be a great mother. Any child on this earth would be grateful to call you his or her mum." He knew this was a difficult subject for his best friend so he added some extra rum to her glass. He watched her as she put the glass to her red lips, hesitating a moment before she took a sip.

"That thought, right there," he started, "I think you should go through with it."

Gillian looked up surprised at her friend and then squinted her eyes. She really hated that feature in him sometimes. She could have absolutely no privacy at all around him. It was unnerving.

"That's easier said than done, Cal."

"Have you actually tried it?" He countered.

Gillian shook her head no. "I withdrew our application after Alec and I got a divorce. I thought about trying a single-parent adoption but the truth is, even though the law allows it, you'll always be at a disadvantage."

Cal nodded and gazed at her for a long time. He took in her sadness while she explained the process of vetting to him, her resignation becoming more and more apparent with every little detail she'd shared. She'd withdrawn her application because she knew they would never give her a child, not because she wasn't up to the task to raise a child on her own.

"You don't know what it's like, Cal. It was already so hard to find an adoption agency that would take us with Alec's drug history. Some wouldn't take us until the infertility issue wasn completely resolved, some didn't like our income status, one just creeped us out with their spiritual and religious hogwash…"

She was fighting the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes as she related to Cal the ordeal she and Alec had gone through to even be considered as potential parents. That was only to get on a list, there was no guarantee they'd even get a shot at an adoption.

"It makes no sense", Cal roared angrily, "There are hundreds of orphaned and deserted children in foster homes in this country alone. It's insane that they're allowed to be so picky."

"I know. I understand that they want to make sure children are placed in safe and stable homes but really sometimes the law is not in the favor of the people it's supposedly protecting."

"Anyone who can't see what a great life a kid would have with you is not fit to work in social welfare." Cal declared. "Married or not. Someday you'll make a child very happy. I just know that."

"You're really sweet, Cal, but my chances of that ever happening are only decreasing as I turn older with every passing year. Most agencies are capping off at 40."

"Have you thought about other options?"

"Like what? Walking into a maternity ward and snatching another woman's baby?" She looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"No!" Cal laughed out loud, "Private adoption. Like you see in the movies and on TV? That kind of stuff."

Gillian laughed and shook her heard. "Alec didn't want that. I'm not sure I trust that myself. I mean…I couldn't keep Sophie even though we'd formally adopted her with a recognized state agency, I can only imagine the difficulties that arise when you try to do it privately."

"You can always hire a lawyer and make sure the birth mother signs a contract, find an agency that will let you do that."

"Honestly I wouldn't even know where to begin looking and then nothing has really changed. If you gave your child up for adoption, you'd be looking for a nice, young married couple who could give your child anything you couldn't. I'm a middle-aged woman, married to my work without a husband; I'd end up on the bottom pile again anyway."

Cal hated how resigned her voice had become. Her face betrayed her feelings of deficiency and self-doubts. It made him angry to see his Gillian so dejected and hopeless. He'd meant to bolster her confidence and make her feel adequate after Mark had torn a hole into her dreams. That idiot. He'd never do that to her. He would jump at the chance to have a life with her. He'd be happy to have a family with her. Emily loved her like a second mother anyway. But would Emily be ever enough for Gillian? She'd seen her grow up but had never been allowed to mother her. Emily was basically an adult, a teenager wise and mature beyond her years.

"Marry me." Cal blurted out. It must have been Captain Morgan speaking.

"Excuse me?" She must have misheard him.

"Marry me. Then you have a real shot at adoption. Just make sure you pick an agency that doesn't make you hand back our baby. I don't want another Sophie. That was tough enough to handle the first time around and I wasn't even married to you back then." Cal heard that traitor Captain Morgan speaking again. It was like he had lost control over his tongue, which was saying whatever came to his mind.

"You're drunk, Cal, you don't know even what you're saying. You'd be miserable if we got married and adopted a baby." Gillian reminded him.

And just like that Cal realized Captain Morgan had nothing to do with this conversation. There really was a part of him that wanted this. He loved Gillian. It wasn't like he would be doing her a favor. Quite honestly, she'd be doing him the favor if she agreed to become his wife and he'd have some justification for his jealousy if another man even as much as glanced at her. But he couldn't tell her that. She'd think it was a trap or something.

"You're probably right." He conceded and silence fell between them for a few minutes before he spoke up again, "There's an old saying though…"

"In vino veritas?" Gillian suggested and damned if he was wrong but he could see a flicker of hope in her eyes.

"In vino veritas." Cal nodded. "You could do a lot worse than me." He offered.

"That I could."

"I've already raised a child. I'm sure that would earn you some brownie points in your application." He reasoned.

"Probably. But you're also not a young spring chicken anymore."

Cal shrugged his shoulders, "I'll cut down the red meat and alcohol and increase my fiber intake."

"You'd be tied down with another kid for the next twenty years." Gillian warned him.

"So? I'd be tied down with you. There are worse ways to spend the remaining twenty years of my life."

"Don't be so morbid!"

"What? You started it. You called me old!" He laughed.

"Oh my God, you're really serious about this!" She shrunk back startled when she saw the truth on his face. His control had slipped under the influence of the alcohol and unguarded as he was, she could read his face easily. "You'd really marry me, so I'd have better chances for adopting a child? That's very chivalrous of you, Cal, but I don't need your sacrifice." He actually looked a little hurt now and the situation was becoming increasingly awkward.

"I need to go home", She got up and walked over to her desk to turn off her computer. Cal remained seated and watched her tidy up her desk a little before she grabbed her purse. Gillian looked at Cal, who hadn't moved an inch, and walked back to him. She bent slightly to kissed his forehead again, "And you, mister, need to sleep off the alcohol before you find yourself pledging your life to me at a tacky chapel in Vegas. Good night, Cal."

"Night", he mumbled as his eyes followed her ass to the door and down the corridor until he lost sight of it at the photo wall. Cal closed his eyes and sighed. "With you, it could never be a sacrifice."

A/N: This is an old plot bunny I've never actively pursued until now, since I'm generally wary of these kind of stories, but as plot bunnies do, they have a mind of their own and sometimes demand to be written - so if there's an interest in this type of story, let me know; my plot bunny is ready to take over my brain. (Though I shall take no responsibility whatsoever for the end result.)