AN:

So, this one has been in the pipeline for a while. But I got distracted. Oops. Thanks for all the messages of encouragement and gentle nudges I've received along the way; they definitely helped motivate me!

This is the sort of sequel/almost epilogue/kinda continuation of my last story, "Protect and Serve". It was supposed to be a one shot, but it turned into a four shot (if there is such a thing) and it's set three years after the end of P & S. Although I guess you don't absolutely have to had read that to make sense of this. It would probably help you know who is who though! Plus I like to think it's a decent story, so maybe give it a go, yeah? Unlike P & S, this one doesn't have bad guys, action scenes or even a plot. Herein lies over 16,000 words of pure fluff, romance and silliness. You have been warned people.

Thanks to Kravn for beta reading for me once again. You're awesome.

This one also comes with a dedication. Multiple dedications in fact. This story is for Mel, Lara & John. Three different reasons, but you all know what you did and why I need to thank you. In lieu of a proper Christmas present for you, please consider this my token of gratitude and love. You can't eat it, but enjoy all the same.

Cheers,

Sam

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"And so, ladies and gents, without further ado I give you the latest addition to the ranks of Fifteen's plain clothes finest; Detective Gail Peck. Raise your glasses please; to DP3!" Oliver Shaw finished off his speech with a flourish and the gathering returned the toast.

"DP3!" they yelled. The cops clinked their glasses together before knocking back the shot and slamming the empties on the table amongst much cheering and hollering.

As Oliver climbed off his chair and joined the group once more, he beamed round the table. Most of Fifteen had turned out to celebrate Gail's promotion. All the rookies from her year were there, although Andy, Chris, Traci and Dov were no longer rookies of course. Indeed, a couple of them were now looking after rookies of their own. The old guard had also showed up, despite the fact many of them had moved on; Sam, Frank and Noelle to name but a few. There were plenty of new faces too, people who had joined the crew over the past couple of years and everyone had brought partners and friends along, making it into quite the party.

Of course, the only person who didn't seem to be enjoying that party was the woman of the moment. Gail scowled across the table at him and he assumed it was just because she didn't appreciate the fuss. Well, that was tough luck. She was one of his rookies and therefore he couldn't be prouder of her success if it was one of his own children. He felt the same way about all of them, yet he couldn't deny having a special soft spot for Peck. She had come such a long way from the scheming, aloof and guarded kid who had first come out of the academy. He had been thrilled when she finally applied for the detective rotation this year, not least because he thought she would be brilliant at it, but because she had done it on her own terms. This was something Gail wanted; not her mother. She was finally ready, helped in no small part by the woman who sat next to her. He had known from the moment he saw the two of them together that Holly would be it for Gail. Having spoken to them both separately that day, he knew they were head over heels long before they even told each other. Nearly three years on, their relationship was stronger than ever before and he could see the effect the pathologist had on his Petulant Peck. She had become more relaxed, softer even. She was happy and content and it was written all over her face. Usually. Right now she was shooting daggers at him as she leaned over to yell at him.

"No way! I am not being number three, hell no!" she announced, loudly enough for half the table to turn and stare. Some of the current crop of rookies shrunk back in their seats at the tone of Gail's voice, but most of the old crowd roared with laughter. Oliver was pretty sure he also saw some cash exchange hands and he realised there must have been a few side bets in how long it would take before Gail challenged her new title.

"Come on, Gail," Oliver cajoled her. "The squad need some way of telling the difference. You know how confusing it gets already when we tell someone to go fetch Detective Peck,"

"Urgh, remember the locker room incident?" Andy interjected, a look of disgust on her face.

Gail rolled her eyes. She did know. Ever since Traci took Steve's name when they got married six months ago, having two Detective Pecks around the place had caused no end of trouble. The example Andy referred to was one of the worst; Gail had taken a knock on the head yet again during a call out. She had felt fine until she returned to the station after her shift but when she jumped in the shower the heat had made her go woozy all of a sudden and she fainted right there on the floor of the locker room. Andy had rushed to her aid and yelled at a rookie to go and get Detective Peck, thinking that Gail wasn't going to appreciate people seeing her like this, but at least she would tolerate help from her sister in law. Of course, the rookie had panicked and a minute or two later Steve Peck had marched into the women's locker room to find his sister flat out on the floor, naked as the day she was born. Neither sibling was quite over the embarrassment of that day yet.

That had been the worst of a number of mix ups; call outs assigned to the wrong Peck, paperwork being filed incorrectly and even the terrible day where Steve ended up missing a raid because Traci's bullet proof vest had been tossed in the van by mistake. The division had taken to referring to Steve and Traci as Mr Detective Peck or Mrs Detective Peck, and Gail didn't see what was wrong with that.

"What's wrong with the Mr and Mrs tag?" she demanded.

Holly placed a hand on her girlfriend's thigh and took advantage of her spot next to Gail to whisper in her ear. "Do you really want to be Miss? Little Miss Detective?" she asked, eyebrows raised. She didn't think Gail would appreciate that at all.

The blonde contemplated that for a moment and realised she didn't like the idea. There was something a little condescending about being called Miss, especially when you're busy being a bad ass cop.

"Well, if we're dropping the Mr and Mrs title, you'll all just have to use our full names," she informed her listeners.

There were several shakes of the head at that suggestion and Chris was the first to shoot it down. "Nah. Too much of a mouthful, don't you think?" he asked.

"What about first initials then?" Gail fired back, willing to come up with anything other than being known as DP3 for the rest of her career.

"G and T sound too similar," Andy objected.

"And it's a drink," Holly interjected, with a laugh.

Gail rolled her eyes at her girlfriend before eyeballing Oliver again. "Well if we're going with numbers then I'll be number one. DP1," she told him.

"Nope. Steve was here first," he argued back.

"So what?" she scoffed. "The numbers are a new thing. You can put us in any order!"

"It doesn't matter, darlin'," replied the staff sergeant. "He was the first Detective Peck, so he's DP1,"

Steve punched the air and high fived Dov before turning to his wife, but Traci simply raised an eyebrow at his childishness and he slunk back into the corner seat, chugging his beer.

"Technically, he's about the twentieth," Gail muttered darkly, thinking back through her long family history of policing.

Oliver frowned, having to concede that point. But his expression soon cleared as he thought of his counter argument. "Ah, but he was the only one in our division! Until he married the lovely Nash, DP2, and now you've finally got your promotion. Hence DP3!" he explained.

The blonde wasn't taking the decision lying down however. "But I've been a Peck longer than Traci! I should at least be two!"

"Ah, but you were an Officer Peck. Not a detective. You've only been Detective Peck for a day, Traci has been Detective Peck for six months now," Oliver told her.

Gail's mouth gaped open as she tried to think of another reason she needed to be bumped up the Peck league table. She turned to Holly, who was watching the exchange with amusement, but the pathologist just shrugged at her. The blonde huffed and tried her luck with Traci instead. "Trace! Surely you can't be happy with this?" she demanded, throwing an arm out to gesture at Oliver and nearly knocking her drink flying.

Traci also shrugged. "It's better than Girl Peck," she said, screwing her face up in disgust as she remembered one of the ways the squad had tried to distinguish between her and Steve early on. She had to stamp down on that one pretty quickly.

"This is ridiculous," Gail announced, flipping a beer coaster at her sister in law.

"Sorry, DP3, it's all decided," Oliver drawled, ducking just in time to avoid the next square of flying cardboard.

The blonde sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Holly smiled and threw her arm round her girlfriend's shoulders. "It could be worse," she comforted her, brushing her fingers down Gail's upper arm.

"I sound like a Star Wars character," Gail complained, making her girlfriend snort with laughter. The cop ignored her however and continued talking; "When we get married, Lunchbox, I'm taking your name."

Holly choked on her own amusement, her eyes going wide. She stuttered for a second or two, the words getting jumbled as a result of her complete and utter shock. They hadn't spoken about marriage. Not specifically, apart from the brief talk about how both of them would like to do it one day. The table fell silent, all the other conversations that had been happening around them grinding to a halt as Holly spluttered a reply; "You what now?" she asked, wincing at how inarticulate that question was.

Gail didn't seem to realise that her words had caused a stir and she carried on munching the fries she had stolen from Chloe's plate.

"When we get married," she clarified, without even a blink as she said it. "I'm going to be Gail Stewart, okay? Then I can be Detective Stewart; none of this number three shit,"

The surprise at hearing her girlfriend talk so casually about marriage meant Holly had to brace herself on the back of Gail's chair, otherwise she might have fallen off her own. She glanced round the table at their equally shocked friends, staring them down one after the other until they turned away and pretended to be engrossed in their own conversations. She knew they were still listening however, so she kept her voice low.

"Okay. If you want," she said softly. She assumed Gail was talking hypothetically. Yes, that's exactly what she is doing, she told herself. Gail isn't serious. She's just being grumpy about a stupid nickname. You are not talking about getting married yet. No way. Even though she said 'when' and not 'if'. Don't even think about that ring that you put a deposit on a year ago, but chickened out of because you didn't want to scare your cat-like girlfriend out of the tree. So now you've got five hundred bucks locked on a piece of jewellery that lives in a shop safe, rather than on your girl's finger. And let's be honest about the real reason you waited; it's because you wanted Gail to be the one to ask you. Because you wanted that final reassurance that she was all in on this. That she had chosen you even after all the trouble you had been through with her work, her family and those nagging doubts your friends tried to plant about the straight beat cop. Holly took a deep breath and forced herself to produce a casual grin, although most of the onlookers would later describe it as more of a panicked grimace.

Gail beamed back at her. "Great!" she enthused. "So I was thinking later this year? September, maybe?"

Holly was now completely lost. "For what?" she squeaked.

The cop pushed Holly's shoulder playfully. "To get married obviously! I know it's only six months, but neither of us want some crazy, big thing, right?" she asked.

That did it. The brunette gaped back at her, unable to speak and brown eyes welling up with tears born out of a mixture of shock, confusion and hope.

"Hey," said Gail quietly, finally noticing the turmoil written across her girlfriend's face. She swivelled her body around to face her properly and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. "You do want to get married, don't you?" she asked. She couldn't understand why Holly seemed to be freaking out about this. Surely she felt the same way Gail did? Like this was exactly where they were heading? Okay so they hadn't really spoken about it, but she had assumed they were on the same page. Gail had been thinking about it for months now and she had reached the point where it just seemed obvious. They should get married and they should do it soon. She couldn't wait to make Holly her wife and she had imagined it so often, it seemed bizarre that her girlfriend didn't seem to be aware of the plan.

Holly swallowed hard and tried to school her features into something more relaxed and carefree. Yet again she failed miserably. "Are you asking me?" she whispered, holding her breath and not daring to dream until it was completely confirmed.

Oh! Gail thought. That's why she's confused. You haven't actually asked her yet! She blushed, feeling a little stupid to say the least. "Isn't it obvious?" she wondered, still not seeing how Holly had missed the clues, even without an actual proposal. She furrowed her brow and stroked her thumb across Holly's cheekbone, trying to convey her thoughts through that simple touch.

"No!" the pathologist replied, miserably.

"Oh hell. I'm messing this up," Gail swore under her breath and covered her face with her hands for a moment. She gathered her wits about her before looking up and meeting her girlfriend's eyes. "Yeah, hon. I am asking," she said, looking Holly directly in the eye.

The brunette gave a small shake of the head and Gail's heart dropped like a stone for a second before she realised the answer wasn't no just yet. "Gail, you'd better be serious, because this is not funny," Holly warned her.

"Of course I'm serious!" she assured her.

"Because you don't want to be called DP3?"

"No, you idiot!" Gail promised. "It's because I love you and I want to marry you. Look, I hadn't planned on asking you here and now…I've got a ring at home and everything, and I was waiting for the perfect time to do it right. But whatever. I want to marry you and I don't want to wait any longer," she said. She was so focused on her girlfriend that she didn't hear the gasps from the not so subtle watchers around the table.

Holly didn't care anymore however. Her smile was so wide that it almost split her face and she took Gail's hand in her own. "Ask me," she said, squeezing her girlfriend's fingers tightly.

Gail grinned back. "Holly, will you marry me?"

The brunette simply leant forward and kissed her soundly, having no words to tell Gail how much she loved her so electing to show her instead. As they pulled apart, she placed her forehead against Gail's and whispered her answer. "Yes. Of course I will,"

As soon as she said it, their friends erupted into loud cheers once more, banging their feet on the floor and drumming their hands on the table. "My man! Another round over here!" Oliver yelled at the bartender and the crowd cheered once more.

Gail flinched at all the noise, suddenly realising that she had just proposed in front of all their friends, many of whom were already half drunk. "Right," she said, blinking. "That's settled then,"

Her fiancée laughed at the perturbed look on the blonde's face. She pulled Gail back towards her and kissed her once more before the congratulations started to rain down on them.

Neither of them moved however, still lost in each other's eyes, despite the amount of people trying to pull them in to celebratory hugs. "I love you, Lunchbox," Gail murmured. It wasn't anything like how she had planned it, but now that Holly has said yes, she couldn't care less.

Holly sighed happily, unable to wipe the smile from her face. This was perfect. "I love you too," she replied.