Author's note: A huge thank you to everyone who has left reviews. *hugs*

Six months later

Tiffany checked her make-up one last time then got into position by the courthouse. The camera rolled and she brought the microphone up to her lips, saying,

'This is Tiffany Swift reporting from Washington DC. Inside the courthouse behind me a judge is deciding on the damages to be awarded to The Lightman Group and Doctors Lightman and Foster and to Anna Robins, a member of their staff whose computer was hacked, following their successful civil action against the Drug Enforcement Agency. The jury found that the Drug Enforcement Agency, by using Doctor Foster's image without her permission, were responsible for her kidnapping and torture at the hands of the Four Corners Gang in November of last year. Luckily, Doctor Lightman managed to ransom her and then helped the FBI capture those responsible. The DEA were heavily criticised at the criminal trial for failing to co-operate with the FBI and The Lightman Group during the investigation. During the civil case The Lightman Group presented evidence of substantial loss of earnings arising from the kidnapping and Doctor Foster and Doctor Lightman have both made claims for the mental hardship they suffered and, in Doctor Foster's case, for the physical hardship too. The DEA's defence was that they were acting for the greater good but they were unable to substantiate that claim. We understand that a sizeable award is expected.'

Tiffany paused, waiting for the production team to give her the thumbs up. When she'd first heard that Doctor Lightman had used her to plant stories in the media she'd felt a flicker of irritation but that had soon been replaced with reluctant amusement at the man's consummate artistry. And he'd been directly responsible for her promotion, after all. Gone were the days of trying to persuade a camera man to come out with her on the off chance. Now she was junior news anchor with her own production team and a promising career ahead of her.
Their spotter inside the courthouse pinged the producers phone and Tiffany turned towards the door, bringing the microphone up to her lips just as Doctor Foster and Doctor Lightman emerged,

'Doctor Lightman, how much have you been awarded?'

'Me personally, darlin'?'

Cal smiled winningly at Tiffany, making his accent stronger but being careful to enunciate clearly so that he was understood.

'You and Doctor Foster and The Lightman Group. And are you happy with it?'

Cal kept his smile on his face as he answered Tiffany's questions being careful to give the impression of a hard-working business man pushed to extremis by a faceless, incompetent bureaucracy. Inside he was jumping up and down with glee. The court had awarded them the full amount they'd asked for, which was twice what their lawyers had expected them to get. Not only would this secure the company's future for the foreseeable future but he would be able to increase Em's college fund and still have plenty left over to play with (even after paying back the bank). Gillian would have a sizeable nest egg and Anna would be able to buy herself a flat if she wanted to.

Having ignored the opportunity to settle out of court, the DEA had gone an entirely predictable route so they had been able to be one step ahead all the way. He had shamelessly used his new found media contacts to showcase Gillian's work, particularly her work with using virtual reality to help military personnel suffering from PTSD. The resulting TV show on PTSD had shown Gillian to be intelligent, caring and capable and Cal hadn't even objected to the saccharine use of partners and children of the soldiers 'rejoicing that their loved ones are coming back to them' (even though it had made him nauseous). Of course, the jury had been selected from people who hadn't watched the show but their lawyers had been able to introduce it as evidence (along with numerous court records from their cases and testimonials from Gillian's counselling work). The FBI had been happy to testify on their behalf since it provided them with lots of positive media coverage (and they were currently carrying out a vendetta against the DEA, which Cal was happily helping them with). However, the killing stroke had come from their lawyers who had insisted that the DEA demonstrate how deliberately endangering Doctor Foster was for the greater good. The DEA lawyers had done their best but had been hampered by their clients pomposity, arrogance and apparent ignorance of the law. When one of their administrators had said on the stand that he thought that the DEA should be able to hack anyone's computer without a warrant, completely ignoring the 4th Amendment, Cal knew that they had won.

Tiffany wrapped up her questions and Cal joined Gillian who was talking to another reporter. As he watched her talking about being able to give their staff a pay rise he marvelled again that this amazing woman was with him. They'd had arguments of course, some of them very stormy, but six months later they were still together and their friendship was the strongest it had ever been. And the sex was bloody brilliant.

Even as Cal smiled and answered inane questions his mind drifted back to the first time that they'd made love in his office. She had ordered him to strip and had then used his quill pen to draw over every single one of his tattoos, slapping his hands away when he had tried to caress her, saying,

'Not yet, Cal, I want to do this.'

Pacified briefly by 'not yet', Cal had watched her as she carefully drew the quill across his skin. Gillian had been frowning in concentration but underneath Cal had seen building arousal and realised with some amusement what it was that he had that Dave and Alec didn't. He had squirmed but allowed Gillian to do what she wanted, her arousal feeding his. When she'd finished going over the last tattoo, Gillian had yanked her clothes off and pinned him to the sofa, riding him hard and fast until they both came with an intensity that still surprised him. Since then, Cal had taken every opportunity to take his shirt off, loving the distracted look of arousal on Gillian's face whenever she saw his tattoos.

They hadn't yet managed to play in the cube but a while ago Eli had asked if he could go on a research trip to visit a tribe in a remote part of Africa and Cal had agreed provided that they won the court case so in a few weeks they should be blessedly free of the spectre of unwanted interruptions and he would be able to find out what Gillian's wonderfully imaginative brain thought that the cube should be used for. He'd never thought that Gillian was repressed but he'd been delighted to discover how open she was about discussing their fantasies and then finding ways to act them out. Cal felt his body starting to react and forced himself to think about other things; being caught on TV with a hard on was not a good idea.

Gillian smiled as the interviewer moved away and looked around at Cal. The TV reporters were packing up, their sound bite collected and the newspaper reporters were also drifting off. Slipping her arm through Cal's, she said,

'Where to now? The office?'

'Nah, I fancy a bit of a celebration. How about you?'

'What did you have in mind?'

'You, me, champagne, strawberries, chocolate sauce, no clothes.'

'All right... but you're changing the sheets this time, Cal.'

'Fair enough.'

With a smug grin on his face, Cal swaggered to the car. Gillian followed, anticipation going through her at what was going to be a messy but very satisfying afternoon. Cal might be an arrogant, controlling narcissist but somehow he completed her. Even when he infuriated her, he was still the only man she ever wanted. Totally content, Gillian fastened her seatbelt and said,

'So, milk or dark chocolate sauce?'

'That depends. Who's doing the licking? You or me?'

The End