A/N: A huge thank you to my favourite proofreader, who also doubles as a fantastic muse and girlfriend.
The air was thick, pregnant with the implications of their situation. The silence swirled in the space between them like molasses; suffocating them more with each breath. The air caught in their throats, trapped there, hoping to suspend time just a little bit longer. Hoping that this wasn't the beginning of the end. Every exhale felt wrong and unnatural, as if a single expiration could be their tipping point.
A minute ago everything was simple. They had plans for a future together. A whole minute before they realized that their plans didn't have the same destination. All of a sudden they were two ships passing in the harbour. There was no storm to capsize them this time; they were simply moving in different directions. How had they ended up getting it so wrong again?
Neither woman dared to move. Gail felt her heart in her stomach. The stomach that had minutes ago been fluttering at the prospect of telling the most important person in her life about the child she was hoping to introduce into her life. Their life. The heart that pounded in her ears at the soft press of Holly's lips to hers, now quivered in her chest. The beat echoing in her ribcage, painfully hollow.
Holly couldn't tell how long she'd been sitting there, not wanting to tear her eyes away from the blonde. Things were just getting back to normal. Life had been on track again. She had this perfect job lined up, her dream job. She could work cases, she could teach, she could do her own research, and she had hoped that Gail could come with her. They'd always talked about running away together. Escaping the paralyzing rule of Elaine Peck, forging their own life from nothing but the smiles on their faces and strength of their wits. Life certainly had a twisted sense of humour.
In med-school, Holly learnt very quickly that sometimes, to do great things, sacrifices have to be made. There was always a fine line back then between good grades, adequate sleep and some semblance of a social life. Being the aspiration student she had always been, she set her expectations high, and let everything else fall behind in her pursuit. Her only friends were people from her course work, and she would be lucky to get a solid six hours of sleep, but she had made that choice. She had accepted it.
She couldn't accept this though. She couldn't accept that having both San Francisco and Gail was not an option. Ever since she got the job offer, she'd let herself picture her fate exactly how she wanted it to be. She dreamt of late night walks down at the pier, pictured walking hand in hand so late on a Sunday morning it was practically afternoon. The only thing every thought had in common was Gail. Holly had dared to dream of a life together. Something she was deeply regretting in the stillness of the room.
It was something she'd been meaning to bring up with Gail, especially considering it was what spurred her into chasing her down in the first place. The imminent possibility that she could be leaving Canada without the woman she loved. Maybe she'd taken too long. Maybe the castle that she'd been building for them was made of sand and the tide was only now coming in to wash it away.
Gail couldn't stand it any longer. The sound of her denim clad legs rubbing together was thunderous as she moved to sit next to Holly. Two weeks was all they had left. A disturbingly finite amount of time. She couldn't tell where the aching in her chest stopped and the questions began. Instead of voicing them, she took Holly's hand in her own, winding their fingers together and bringing their conjoined hands beneath her gaze as she hunched over, elbows to her thighs.
Holly was sure she noticed before the blonde did. The faintest patter at her knuckle, the drop cascading to a tiny stream, darting between the crevices of their fingers. Tears that flowed silently, but violently all the same. A faint trickle that chipped away at the dam until it gave way to streams and rivers that screamed with frustration and heartache.
The crushing weight of it all had made her shake, her body harrowed as she tried to swallow her own sobs. That night was supposed to be the greatest night of their relationship. Gail was supposed to say yes. They were supposed to go to Holly's place, open up a bottle of wine and celebrate with dinner. Later on, they were supposed to lie entwined, naked in every sense of the word, talking about the good life, bickering about where they would live and what they would do on the weekends. All they had left, they wept for, because it would never be enough. It would never be what they wanted.
After sobs tapered to a lone tear, they left the silent locker room for the bustle of the station, and, eventually, the solitude of the car. They didn't speak, communicating only through red-eyed glances and unsteady breaths. "Don't take me home," Gail eventually whispered, the words so quiet that Holly barely registered them over the hum of the engine.
"Okay."
That was enough. The short exchange fulfilled their word quota for the rest car ride as they moved through the city. Gail couldn't decide whether or not the drive was shorter or longer than usual. They'd stopped at so many red lights that her world shifted to scarlet. A flickering flame licked at her lips, hostile words begging to be released. She kept her mouth shut instead, for fire has the power to bring things to a devastating end, and she didn't want to destroy what was left. She couldn't bring herself to singe a hair on her lover's head.
It wasn't until they were situated on the edge of Holly's couch that either of them had the capacity to speak again. "Two weeks," Gail had let the sentence hang between them. She'd been terrified to say them aloud, to acknowledge that it was actually happening. "Why didn't you tell me?" she continued. Gail could feel her face morphing as she tried to contain the hurt, to keep her face neutral. Unwavering. Strong.
"Why didn't you tell me about Sophie?"
They couldn't bear to look at one another. The stench of shame was unmistakable as they wallowed in the consequences of their own actions. "Tell me it's the most amazing job you could ever hope for. Tell me tha–" her words faltered to a whimper. Holly's hand was at her cheek in the next breath, holding her face with such tenderness that Gail could only lean into the caress.
"You're going to be an amazing mum," Holly finally said. The faintest hint of a watery smile ghosted across her lips as she watched the woman she loves crumble beneath her fingertips. It broke her. Tore at wounds only just healed, ripping open scar tissue and leaving her heart in two once more.
Gail braced herself. She'd never cried like that. Not in front of anyone. The tears of a Peck were not to be witnessed by a single soul, but there she was, a blubbering mess, looking for some assurance that this wasn't all they had left. "Tell me that this isn't goodbye," she pleaded.
For once, Holly didn't have the words to continue. Instead she moved in to kiss tear-stained cheeks, knowing that hers were no better. "Please, Hol," she whispered to the rift between them. "I just got you back."
"No goodbyes."
Those were the only words Holly dared to breathe before moving into the blonde, their lips meeting in the softest of impacts. Their supple lips moving to a tender rhythm they know all too well. Neither of them knew exactly what would happen after that night, but both knew that there wasn't a second to waste. They couldn't cram a lifetime into two weeks; both of them were under no illusion about that. Instead they kissed. The kiss was sombre, bittersweet, but not a goodbye. It was the final tether to the plans they'd made. It wasn't desperate. It wasn't passionate. It was comfort.
Every curve, every hollow, every inch scoured with hot breaths and smooth lips until no single fragment could ever be forgotten. There was no teasing that night. No playful grin accompanying feather-light touches. Each caress carried out with unmistakable purpose as they moved together. They were in sync, but some how complimentary in their timing, ebbing and flowing against one another.
The slightest ripple transferring between them could be felt from the tip of their heads to Gail's sock covered toes against Holly's bare skin. An insignificant detail to some, but to them, it was everything. Gail could be herself, she could wear socks to bed, she could play video games, she could say the wrong thing time and time again, and Holly would still look at her like she had stepped out of a dream in all her flawless glory. It was breathtaking.
When ecstasy gave way to exhaustion, the two became indistinguishable. They lay in the night's light, tracing the shadows of tangled limbs, and wisps of hair. The silence engulfed them once more. This time the tears fell silently. Leaving tracks on their skin, and imprints on their hearts, as their lips pressed together for a final time.
It wasn't a goodbye. It was sorrowful promise, a promise that this wasn't the end. It was a promise that, despite the circumstances, this bed wasn't their tomb. That the love they felt could cross countries and oceans alike until they could be together. It wasn't the end. Holly had been right.
No goodbyes.
A/N: I'm considering continuing this with a couple of follow up one-shots, with considerable time gaps between, to explore places that I would like to delve deeper into with these characters and this possible storyline. Let me know if you'd be interested, or anything you personally feel about this arc. Who knows what ideas you may spark!