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"Wow, that was the quickest date ever, assuming it even happened. I just got off the phone with you... eighteen minutes ago. Love at first sight, I'm guessing." Holly answers on the first ring and sounds only a little smug.

"What would you say if someone told you they once lived in Nottingham?" Gail jumps right in because, well, Holly answered on the first ring and Gail is too keyed up to go straight home. She needs a drink.

"Um. I'd have to go for the Robin Hood joke."

"Right?! Thank you. It's only natural."

"I don't think I could resist it. Maybe a Prince of Thieves reference if they were especially cute. Why?" Gail can hear papers shuffling around and she's pretty sure Holly isn't done with the report she was working on when they got off the phone. She sighs loudly and plaintively and whines, "Are you done with your very important paperwork yet? My horrible eighteen minute date made me rage-hungry. And thirsty."

"Well, I have been craving cheap Mexican lately..."

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Turns out dinner is just the thing Gail needs. She manages to restrict herself to only a few taco jokes, and Holly shows restraint by speaking with a "British" accent only while ordering. It's nice. Hanging out with Holly is nice. And weird. She keeps losing track of time and losing track of how much she's drinking and it's really, really...nice.

She feels a little closer to drunk than tipsy and when Holly yanks her up to leave Gail lazily pours herself out of the booth and leans up into the taller woman as she stands. Holly is tall. Like really tall and she lets herself be preoccupied by this as Holly turns to leave her part of the tip. Not many women are taller than Gail, especially in her boots, and it's an awkward sensation. Holly takes her time putting her coat on, has to pull on each shirtsleeve at least a million times and arrange her scarf just so. Gail buttons her coat collar all the way up even though she feels too warm for a coat at all, then she clips Holly's shoulder on her way to the door just for fun, knowing the pathologist is following close behind.

:::::::

"Hey! You tryin' to start sumpthin'?" Holly teases as they break out into the fall air and come to stand under the light of the restaurant awning. Gail looks around, not sure which way Holly's going. She's about to say as much as she turns back toward Holly but then...

Then they are close. Right up close to each other. Close enough that Gail can see her breath puff out and land gently on the lenses of Holly's glasses, can see the beads of condensation as they curl up the surface and evaporate. The quality of light is doing funny things to Holly's face and Gail can't stop staring at the shine of her hair. She follows the strands of light down over Holly's shoulders and back up again. It's distracting and Gail is just drunk enough that her attention is captured by it, just drunk enough to forget to flinch when Holly's hand comes up abruptly towards her face.

The moment she feels the tip of Holly's gloved finger on her forehead Gail freezes. She had forgotten about it entirely. She had tucked it away in a box at the back of her brain and totally ignored it, but Holly just found it. Holly could see it. Holly can see it. She stays stock still and she hears Holly hum softly. It isn't her scar, it is the scar and Gail hasn't gotten to the point of trying to own it like that anyway. She had forgotten to even work on it.

Instead she chooses to cover up the mark above her eyebrow. Not that it's actually all that visible, even when she stares directly at it in the mirror, looking for it. The plastic surgeon they'd brought in to consult said he couldn't have done any better himself. Gail had swallowed hard and tried not to puke at the touch of admiration in his voice as he prodded her face. He said the scar would be a fine line, the barest hint of color but not raised. If anything, it would fade in a year or so and no one would be able to see it unless they got right up close like he was. Right up close and in her face and breathing gross stale coffee breath all over her. Not that anyone had looked at her right up close enough to notice it since. At least not close enough to really see her. Not after Jerry. Not after Perik, again. Not after suspecting Nick and Andy of being NickandAndy. Not after she behaved, well, like she behaves.

But Holly's breath smells like a margarita (On the rocks, not blended. Light salt. Extra lime.) and she's got the tip of her gloved finger on the top of the scar and Gail knows Holly can see the scar and she's just drunk enough not to panic outright and flee or elbow Holly in the solar-plexus. She looks up and Holly isn't watching her, really, isn't intently staring at her or trying to have a moment. She's just kind of observing the blonde's forehead. Examining. She's tender and clinical and just drunk enough to get right up close to Gail's face. Gail can see puzzle pieces arranging behind Holly's eyes and it's thrilling and unbearable and Gail is terrified that she's going to start screaming or laughing. Or both. Probably both.

She's about to burst when she feels Holly's finger trace lightly down her face, eyes black and obscured, searching for something. It's not romantic, but it does feel intimate and strange. Unfamiliar. Like she's looking for a specific thing and Gail's heart skips at the thought that she's finally been found out. When the touch ghosts over her cheek and gently lands on the edge of her top lip, she knows she's been made.

Holly's voice is low and contemplative when she finally does speak. "Hmm. Consistent with..." Holly trails off. It's more like she's talking to herself than to Gail, and Gail just stares at Holly's bottom lip and needs to get away. She hasn't been this close to someone in so, so long. Maybe ever. The realization startles her and she looks up from Holly's mouth to catch those big warm eyes for a second; allows the eye-contact to jolt her and anchor her for only a second. She feels the moment fully, feels her world tilt, then takes a sharp breath as an urge swells up inside her, uncontrollable and awesome and she's just drunk enough to go with it. She lunges and snaps and suddenly she's biting Holly's finger and growling and Holly is screamlaughing in surprise like a lunatic and the adrenaline rush is just too much so she runs.

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She runs as fast as she can down the sidewalk and laughs and lets the cold air sting her throat and lungs. She can taste leather as she hears booted feet catching up to her, can feel the stitching of Holly's glove on her tongue. The footsteps get louder, almost obnoxiously slapping against the pavement, and then Holly and her hair are passing her on the left. Holly doesn't stop, though, she stretches out her stride and does a loose and drunken spin-move off the top of a fire hydrant to land in front of Gail. She's bright and smiling and it's like she never even saw the chaos. No, it's better. It's like she saw all the edges, the fear, in Gail's eyes and didn't fucking care.

Gail leans over, bending in half and putting her hands on her knees, breathing hard. "Mediocre," she sucks in another labored breath, "At best."

Holly is still smiling, still laughing a bit and breathing almost as hard as Gail. "What?" Holly draws the word out as she leans back and pulls a face. "That was such a good move! I am so good at this! What about this one?" She hops up on the short stone wall that lines the sidewalk and catches the edge of it by the ball of her foot. She bounces off and kicks out her other foot, lands and pivots off the hydrant, making weird sound-effects the entire time. It's charming and disarming and Gail stands up fully when Holly lands in front of her again. "Eh. C+. I got the sense you were phoning it in. I've had to chase more than a few of those 'freerunning' little punks around the city and I found your performance uninspiring."

Holly huffs but steps in beside Gail as they start walking together, hands in their pockets. Holly keeps skipping and making bizarre little moves until she's just walking on top of the short stone wall. She's infecting Gail with a giddy sort-of grade-school energy and it's like they've achieved the ever-elusive "perfect buzz". Calling Holly had been a good idea. A great idea. Gail smiles to herself. There's a break in the wall and Holly clears her throat pointedly, stopping at the edge. She holds out her gloved hand. Gail imagines she can see the imprint of her teeth on Holly's index finger as she reaches up and grasps Holly's hand. The leather of their gloves creaks together. Distracting.

"Gail." Holly hops to the ground instead of across to the other side of the wall like Gail was expecting, her tone serious.

"What?" They're still holding hands and Gail is holding her breath.

"Would you still be my friend if I was super into parkour? Like, really into it for realsies?" Holly grins and starts swinging their arms more enthusiastically than their shared gait calls for. Gail throws her a side-eye but goes along with it. Just drunk enough.

"Ugh. Gross. That's a tough one but only because you brilliantly suggested tequila drinks. I would probably tase you while you were mid-air sometimes just for a laugh, but as long as you didn't talk to me in public, I guess I'd let you hang out with me." She says it in the most reluctant tone she can muster, but even joking about having a friend or being a friend is making Gail's chest swell up with that biting urge again. Their joined hands, swinging wildly, gives her something to focus on as they cross the street and hail a cab.

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"Hey, anytime you need to ditch a blind date for some weeknight drinking-and-nachos with someone way awesome, you know where to find me." Holly has a dopey easy smile as the cab pulls up to her place. She tosses Gail a twenty and a casual "It'll all even out," at Gail's raised eyebrow.

"Maybe the next one will actually get my brilliant Robin Hood references. Pssh. What a waste of good material." Gail's head hits the back of the seat as she turns to watch Holly climb out.

"Just remember, anything less than a Bryan Adams volley is not worth your time." The brunette leans over to face Gail, leaving the door open and letting all the cold air in. The rush Gail feels is not in the air but in Holly's weirdo response and she smiles and bites the inside of her cheek as Holly starts singing a little too loudly and a lot off-key: "Look into my eyesssss..."

"Oh, god."

"And you will seeeee."

"No. No no no."

"Just what you mean toooooo meeeee."

"Please stop! Please stop now."

"Search your heaaaaaart..."

"I'm leaving! Cabbie?"

"Search your sooooooul..."

"Good night, Holly! It's been real! You're a psycho! Gotta go! Bye bye!"

Holly keeps singing and laughing at her panic and it's kinda fun when Gail finally wrenches the car door shut, muttering loudly about pepper-spray. She can still hear Holly ("And when you fiiiind me there, you'll searrrrrrch no more!") singing through the shut window. Gail turns her head to see Holly spin around breezily and walk towards her place as the cab pulls away, the next verse of the ballad filtering unbidden and irritating into her consciousness.

She hears Holly singing the whole way home, in fact. She's just drunk enough to start humming along.