DISCLAIMER: Not mine, believe me; see, no micro expressions...
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: Slight, for the episode "Honey"
Guilt
By Juri
e·mo·tion (ô'sh n.
A mental state that arises spontaneously rather than through conscious effort and is often accompanied by physiological changes; a feeling: the emotions of joy, sorrow, reverence, hate, guilt, and love.
guilt (g n.
a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined.
"You've started dating again, 'aven't you?" Cal exclaimed, surprise obvious.
"Oh stop it, Cal, right now!"
"You know he's gonna find out, don't you?" Ria whispered, lips trailing down the column of her lover's throat. Fingers tangled in her dark hair, sharply pulling her back up, so that she had no choice but to look into amused blue eyes. Raising an eyebrow in question, she allowed the other woman to study her face. After a moment, she was released.
"And yet, here we find ourselves, in a compromising position in my office," Foster murmured, smirking.
Grinning sheepishly, the younger woman shrugged. "I can't help myself if I find you hard to resist," she replied easily, moving forward, trying for a kiss. The doctor leaned back, avoiding the soft lips and enjoying the dilation of pupils and flaring of nostrils that gave away the Latina's frustration.
"Hard to resist, huh?"
"Gillian, please…" the dark haired woman pleaded, trying again. Foster ducked away again, hand coming to rest against Ria's chest, restraining her.
"Ah, ah, ah. As much as I would love to continue this, I know that isn't what this is about."
Pushing slightly, she backed the younger woman into the wall, bringing their bodies into full contact. Free hand coming up to cup the woman's jaw, she gently rubbed her thumb along her cheek. "What's wrong?" Dark eyes looked down, guilty.
"I… I just needed to touch you," the smaller woman admitted. "I, after yesterday I…"
The gun wasn't large, a revolver, about the size of a fist. But in Matheson's hand, it was like a cannon, pointed towards them, shaking slightly in his tight, nervous grip. Torres couldn't breathe as she watched the barrel lift towards Loker and Foster, every instinct in her body screaming at her to get in front of the other woman. 'Please,' she prayed, stomach rolling when the man shouted at her lover to move. 'Please God, don't shoot her.'
"Ria…" Gillian whispered, pulling back and looking, really looking, at her lover. Ria refused to meet her eyes, but couldn't help the reflexive swallow or slight quiver of her lips. "Sweetheart…"
"I… I messed up… and you could have been hurt…" the Latina said, voice soft. "I wanted to go to you, last night. But, I… I couldn't…"
"Ria… Look at me," the blonde requested, head dipping down to catch conflicted brown eyes. "It wasn't your fault."
"I, I should've locked the car."
"He had a gun; he would have forced you anyway," Gillian countered, using her hold on the woman's chin to finally force visual contact. The tears she saw made her chest tighten.
"I shouldn't have brought him back here or, or warned someone."
"He would have shot you," she insisted, other hand coming up to cradle Ria's face gently.
"At least you would have been safe," the younger woman whispered, a fine tremble running through her body.
"Baby…"
The stood silently for long minutes, the shorter woman panting slightly, hot tears threatening to spill onto her face at any moment, the taller desperately trying to think of a way to reassure her lover. Patients, clients, they were easy. No one would ever accuse Gillian Foster of being anything other than kind and empathetic, but at the end of the day she didn't know them, didn't have to deal with their emotions. This was different. Despite the newness of their involvement, the psychologist cared deeply for Ria Torres, and the sight of her in emotional pain was almost too much to bear.
"Don't, don' try to make me feel better. I messed up, all right? I just, I needed to… to make sure you were…"
"Okay?" Ria nodded, swallowing hard again. "I am. I'm here, and I'm alive." Gillian moved forward, kissing the other woman firmly, not letting her pull away until some of the tension eased from her frame. Pulling back, she caressed the face in her hands again.
"Why didn't you come to me?" The other woman glanced away again, body tensing. "Ria?"
"I, I did. But, I lost my nerve…. And then, I came back and, uh, you had… company… "
"Can I sleep in your guest bedroom, tonight, if it's not too much of a problem?" Cal asked, body hunched, giving him the appearance of a wounded child.
"Of course," she replied, reaching out for him…
Gillian froze, eyes widening. She had kissed the man on the cheek, embraced him. It was innocent, because despite the chemistry between them they both understood that they would never be. But to an outsider, to someone who didn't know them and their history…
"Ria, honey… it's not what it looked like. Cal and I, we-"
"I know, I, I don't think you're sleeping with Lightman. I just… you had him… you didn't need me…" The younger woman sounded so small, so lost. Gillian kissed her again, hard, desperately. Her hands moved over the smaller woman's body, gripping her hips. Ria moaned low in her throat, her own hands coming up to the taller woman's shoulders and clutching at them for support. Ripping away and gasping for air, the doctor rested her forehead against the other woman's. She knew exactly what her lover needed to hear.
"Ria, I need you. Cal came over to comfort himself, because he needed me. I… I was waiting for you, sweetie. I need you."
The deception specialist looked into her eyes, studied her face for long moments, and Gillian allowed it. She needed her lover to believe her, to see the truth in her words. After a few more, long, tense moments, Ria's face crumpled in shame and sorrow, and she buried her face in the taller woman's shoulder. "Ssshh, it's okay Sweetie, I'm okay."
"I, I put you in danger, and then I wasn't even there for you! That's not okay," Ria cried against her, body shuddering.
"Ssshh, it's all right."
"N-not okay!"
Pulling back, the doctor smiled softly. "You can make it up to me," she enticed, chuckling thickly when the younger woman stopped crying immediately. If it wasn't so sad, it would have been adorable.
"How?" Ria hiccuped, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes.
"Stay with me, tonight."
And now it was the smaller woman's turn to freeze. That was new. They had been seeing each other for weeks now, almost two months, and they had yet to spend the entire night together. Between the Latin woman's issues after her break up with Dupree, and Gillian's recent divorce, both had been a little gun-shy. Ria had been hesitant to ask, and the doctor had seemed like she wasn't comfortable with the idea anyway. Now, though, it was obvious that their distance had done more harm than good, regardless of intention.
"Are you… do you mean that?" the dark haired woman asked, wanting to be sure.
Gillian nodded, sighing in relief. "Stay with me tonight. Please…" she repeated, smiling tentatively.
"O-okay."
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, the doctor pulled back a step, straightening her skirt and jacket. "Good. I'll expect you at my door by eight."
"Okay." With a lingering kiss, this one gentle and light, Gillian turned and left her office, wanting to give her lover time to collect herself.
Cal was waiting for her outside the door, and she walked by him, rolling her eyes; she knew what he would say. "So, you and Torres then?" he asked, biting back a smile. Glaring at him sidelong, she snorted.
"As if you didn't know."
"Knew from the moment you saw each other, love," he said, shrugging nonchalantly.
"I was married!" she squealed, turning to look at him with disbelief as they made their way into his office.
"Indeed. And faithful, bless your heart. But anyone could see your marriage was failing, especially her. She wanted me to tell you he was hiding something, did you know that? She was convinced he was cheating, and thought I was wrong, imagine, me, wrong, for not telling you," he rambled, fondness and amusement warring for dominance in his face.
"Did… did she really?" He nodded, smirking smugly. "That's sweet, in a nosy sort of way."
Stopping just outside his office, Foster smiled, tilting her head. "Look, you don't have to sell me on Ria, okay? And you don't have to worry about me hurting her; I know what I feel," she assured, reaching out and squeezing his forearm.
"And what's that, then?"
She raised an eyebrow and shot him a smirk of her own. "None of your damned business, Cal." Turning on her heel, she began making her way back down the hall.
"Oy, fancy a drink?" he called after her, opening his arms in an inviting gesture.
"No thanks," she threw over her shoulder, not bothering to stop. "I most definitely want to be sober tonight."
The End