DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Rookie Blue. Their original characters are theirs. Their show is theirs. I'm just better at logistics.

This is a Chloe/Frankie fic (aka Crankie Muppet). Gail and Holly are running around in the background and have their own story, but this is Chloe's most of all.


Chloe Price believed in love.

She truly believed that love had magical powers to heal your heart and prop you up again, ready to go back out and face the world. And she knew, she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that love came after you when you weren't looking.

Sure, she had a failed marriage and a twice failed relationship with Dov in her back pocket, but she still believed in love. She believed in love for everyone, even cranky people like her friend, Gail (not that Gail Peck would ever use that word to describe them), because for all her faults (and let's face it Gail had a lot of them), the woman still had some faint hope that her own love would come back.

And Chloe Price had faith. She had absolute faith in the universe that, one day, the right people would be in the right place at the right moment.

Sometimes faith and love just needed a little push, though.

"We should move in together," she told Gail one night at the Penny.

The blonde froze with her beer halfway to her lips. "What?"

"You and me. We'd be great roomies. I cook, you eat. It'd be like being girlfriends, except no sex."

Gail snorted. "Way to sell me on that deal, Price." She took a long drink from her glass. "Besides, you're forgetting I don't like you."

"That's why it'd be perfect," insisted Chloe, smiling brightly. "We would have zero sexual tension. We could get mad as we wanted with each other. And? I play Death Domain way better than Dov."

That caught Gail's attention. "True," she muttered.

"Oh, plus I have zero interest in watching you and your girlfriend get it on."

"She's not my girlfriend," sighed Gail, wearily.

"Sorry. Your friend with benefits."

The strange relationship between Gail and Frankie had confused Chloe at first. It was obvious that Gail had been in love with Holly, but this… This weird sex friendship with the cranky detective was like seeing Gail and Pod Gail. And they were very much not girlfriends. Frankie slept around, Gail didn't seem to particularly care, and once in a while they hooked up.

The hookups dwindled after a few months for reasons unsaid. The two cranky cops still hung out, but Gail generally played the part of Frankie's wingman.

Chris was still complaining about it, though he had to admit they had been somewhat quiet compared to other flings. He just didn't understand how they had managed to have such an uncomplicated relationship. They didn't date, they had sex, now they didn't, and they remained somewhat friends.

"It's like they're men," he muttered to Chloe one night. "They're men and they hook up and don't worry about it."

"They're allowed to like sex," Chloe pointed out, defending their choices. She knew it wasn't love, just convenience, and so did both Frankie and Gail and that should be enough for anyone.

But it really wasn't enough for Gail, and Chloe knew that too.

Gail wanted something more than just the casual hook up she had with Frankie and some of the other women she'd slept with. The first year of 'New Fifteen,' Gail 'sowed her oats' as she jokingly called it. But not a single fling lasted more than a few dates. At first, Chris called it Gail's lack of ability to connect with people, but Chloe saw it for what it was. It was love, plain and simple.

Gail Peck was in love and the object of her love wasn't there. And Chloe Price had to fix that.

"I'm glad Dov wasn't my one," she announced to Gail one afternoon on patrol.

"Oh god," groaned Gail.

"No, really. I'm glad. Because then I'd be all mopey like you."

Gail glanced over. "I will crash this car."

Chloe laughed, knowing that Gail wouldn't. "You are, though. You're all mopey and sad that all those girls you date aren't Holly."

"Dangerous grounds, Price," warned Gail, her voice changing into the one that actually was Gail-about-to-be-mad voice.

It told Chloe everything she needed to know. "Frankie knows, right?"

Eying her, Gail asked, "Knows what?"

"That she's not your 'one.' Are you following along, Gail?"

"Honestly no. I'm thinking about if it's better to stab you in the eye with my pen or stab myself." But then she added, "Yes, Frankie knows she's not my 'one.' If you start spewing soulmate shit, though, I'm going to kick you out of the car."

And she would. So Chloe smiled and stopped.

Eventually Gail did move out of the Frat House. She got her own place in the same building as Chloe, which she swore was a coincidence. Chloe didn't believe in those. She believed in fate. Fate meant Gail and Chloe were supposed to be friends. Fate was why she was supposed to be the person to whom Gail unloaded her doubts and fears.

It had been a late night when Chloe was coming off a long shift. Gail had the day off, but at two in the morning, there she was hauling trash out of her apartment at the end of the hall.

"I know these places are pretty soundproof, Gail, but maybe it's a little late for cleaning."

Gail scowled. "Nobody asked you."

Chloe saw the tension in Gail's neck and frowned. "Well. I'm too keyed up to sleep. I think I'm going to make pancakes."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You should come over." And she left Gail in the foyer.

About ten minutes later her door opened and Gail complained. "You're a cop, you should know it's not safe to leave your door unlocked."

But they talked. They talked about fears, though Chloe had to go first. She told Gail about how, sometimes, when there was gunfire around her, she worried it was someone shooting at her again. She worried about the stupid blood clot, which could still kill her, and she worried about never being able to be half the cop everyone else seemed to be so easily.

For her part, Gail admitted she had trouble sleeping because of being kidnapped. It was a story Chloe didn't really know well. She'd been in her first year at TwentySeven at the time and only heard that a cop was kidnapped. But it had been Gail. Gail had been beaten, drugged, strapped to a table, and left to wait for death and worse. Some nights, obviously, it was hard to sleep.

And that was why Gail got a key to Chloe's and vice versa.

Fate.

It was also fate that Chloe met one of Frankie's flings at the Penny and found out Gail knew her. Gail had glared at the woman, Lisa, who had glared right back, and the two got into an argument about whose fault it was that Holly had left Toronto. When Lisa pointed out that Holly had the job offer before she'd met Gail, and Lisa was trying to warn off Holly from breaking her own heart and Gail's, they'd found a strange impasse. They stopped being mad at each other and decided Holly was stupid sometimes

But Chloe saw it as opportunity. Introducing herself to Lisa, she sat the woman down and tried to figure out exactly what had happened with Gail and Holly that night. Lisa was forthcoming and open, especially when a little tipsy, and laid it all out. The overheard comments, the Gail being Gail, and the walking out. It all made sense.

So did the fact that apparently Holly was still a little hung up on Gail.

All she had to do now was somehow get Holly to move back to Toronto.

Of course that was nigh impossible, so Chloe decided to just orchestrate a setup. Because she knew what Gail did not. Holly would be back in town for a wedding in two months. If she could get the two idiots in the same room, love would take its course.

She started her assault by taking the time to annoy Gail with hugs. It wasn't that Gail hated hugs (even though she did), it was that she hated hugs from Chloe a great deal. Gail hated attention like that. If she could be a success in a white shirt without ever having people pay attention to her, Gail would probably be ecstatic. Actually, Chloe didn't know if Gail still wanted the white shirt.

Aspirations change after your brother goes away for murder and your family pretty much disowns you for not testifying and covering for him. That's what Uncle Frank said had happened at least, and Chloe had no reason to not believe him.

The point of the hugs were to soften Gail and make her more receptive to the idea of affection. Her theory was that if Gail was a little more open, then the universe would return the favor with Holly and Gail would be willing to try again. And Chloe liked hugging people.

"Muppet, why are you hugging Peck?"

"Because she had a bad day," replied Chloe, her arms still around Gail, who had not shoved her off yet. Actually ... Gail hadn't shoved her off in a while. It was working!

It was the truth too. Gail had been dealing with her family a little more than normal lately, arguing with them and against them. Steve was up for a second trial, one to possibly dismiss charges, and Gail refused to lie. And then she told the judge her father had asked her to lie the last time. Gail had, indeed, had a series of bad days.

"You're annoying her," noted Frankie.

Chloe smiled and let go of Gail, who went back to changing to go home without a word. "Do you need a hug too, Det. Cranky? Did you come here because you need. Chloe Price hug?" She held her arms open and was a little surprised at how Frankie recoiled.

It was surprise and confusion, not fear or hate. "No. God, Peck, how do you tolerate it?"

Shrugging, Gail pulled on her shirt. "It grows on you like a fungus."

"Whatever. We on for tonight?"

"No," sighed Gail. "I have to go talk to my lawyer."

Frankie shrugged. "Your loss. Later, losers."

As soon as the detective was gone, Gail turned to Chloe. "Stop teasing her, will you? It's making her more insufferable, which I didn't know was even possible."

Chloe blinked and pointed at herself. "Me?"

"You. She has a crush on you." Gail smiled. It wasn't her evil smile. It was an amused smile. "Every time she catches you hugging me, she's pissed for days."

Sometimes faith and love took weird turns. "Frankie hates me." But as she pointed that out, Chloe started to look back on everything differently.

Closing her locker with a smirk, now a little evil, Gail nodded. "Yeah, she does."

Chloe started paying more attention to the other half of the Cranky Cops and was surprised to see that Gail was right. Frankie paid a lot more attention to her than anyone else. If Chloe hugged people, anyone at all, the detective was snarkier than normal to them. It was obvious that Frankie wasn't mad at Chloe, she was jealous of them being hugged by Chloe, and it was weird. It was distracting.

It was why she nearly missed her chance on her quest to make Gail happier.

Really that was her own fault. She'd been watching Frankie flirt with a woman at the bar, trying to gauge her own slightly confused feelings to that, when the door opened and Gail went absolutely still. Chloe stared at Gail for a moment, completely confused, and turned to see what had caught the blonde's attention.

Lisa was walking into the Penny, promising loudly it would just be a minute, and stopped to say hi to Frankie. The woman walking with Lisa, though, was hard to mistake. They knew exactly who the bespectacled brunette was. Both Chloe and Gail heard Lisa introduce her. "Holly, this is Frankie. She's a detective. Good in bed too."

Politely, Holly held out a hand and apologized. "Lisa has no filter."

"Holly?" Frankie swiveled as she shook Holly's hand and looked at Gail. "Oh! Hey, Peck! Check it out, I found her."

Gail got up slowly. "I'm going to kill Frankie," she muttered, but walked over to the bar.

No way was Chloe missing this. She got up and followed. "Be nice," she hissed at Gail. As soon as she was able, Chloe looped her arm through Frankie's and beamed. "Hi, Holly."

"Hi, Chloe," smiled Holly, but her eyes were on Gail alone.

Gail was silent. Confused. Chloe poked her. "Say hi, Gail," she prodded.

"Uh. Hi. Holly."

Swallowing visibly, Holly bobbed her head. "Hi. Gail." She glanced at Lisa, who was negotiating with the bartender. "I didn't... Hi."

Gail nodded. "Yeah. I didn't. Um. Either."

"Wow, Peck's speechless," laughed Frankie, and Chloe tugged her backwards. "Hey, hey, let go of me, you muppet!"

Chloe tugged Frankie back. "Let them talk." She reached over and grabbed Lisa's hand. "You too."

The plastic surgeon had no problem with that. "You think it'll work?" Lisa was grinning.

"They're talking," beamed Chloe, dangling on Frankie's arm. The detective was stuff and clearly uncomfortable. "Relax, Detective Crankypants."

Frankie twitched and tried to squirm away, but Chloe held on. They couldn't have her screwing up a Gail and Holly reunion. "That is mean as hell to do to her," hissed Frankie. "Holly's just going to leave and she'll be a mess."

Squeezing Frankie's arm closed, Chloe smiled. "Awww, you like Gail."

"She's a friend," growled Frankie.

Chloe nodded and turned to Lisa, not letting go of Frankie for a second. "Frankie and Gail were friends with benefits for a while. Why did you guys break it off?"

Resignedly, Frankie pointed at Holly. "That."

They watched Gail and Holly talk quietly and then Gail nodded and walked over to them. "Boob job, tab's fixed. Go away."

Lisa scoffed. "Whatever." But she managed to give Chloe a subtle thumbs up before collecting a very thoughtful looking Holly and vacating the Penny.

Smiling ear to ear, Chloe asked, "Sooooooo?"

"So?" Gail frowned. "Let go of Frankie, she hates that."

As soon as Chloe let go, Frankie flinched away and rubbed her arm as if it burned. But her eyes lingered on Chloe, confusedly, a little longer. Chloe smiled sweetly and then latched onto Gail's arm. "Sooooo what did Holly say? What did you say to her? Was it weird seeing her again? I think it'd be weird. I mean, I see Dov every day, but that's easier than seeing Wes was."

"Wes is a dick," sighed Gail, not trying to get free. "Can I sit down?"

Chloe plunked them both down on side-by-side chairs. The fact that Frankie's eyes were burning a hole at her did not go amiss. So Gail was right. Frankie was having feelings for Chloe. While she needled at Gail for the rest of the night trying to get an answer, Chloe kept her eyes on Frankie whenever possible. The woman was flustered and confused.

Dating women was not strange to Chloe. If she'd met Gail before Dov, and Gail had swung that way, then it was very possible she would have flirted with her. Instead, she became Gail's friend in a way that excluded the possibility of romance. And that was okay. Gail was a good friend to have. She was the best kind of friend. Once she decided to keep you around, Gail was insanely loyal.

Sometimes Chloe wondered what life would have been like if Gail had known she was gay when they met. Would their animosity bubble up like it was with Frankie? Would they tumble into a strange relationship? No, Chloe believed in love and she know that it didn't matter how you told the story. Gail's endgame was Holly. It didn't matter to dwell on what-ifs and might-have-beens there. Gail had her world turned on it's end by the medical examiner.

Even now, even after not seeing or speaking to or of Holly for over half a year, even now Gail was smitten. She was hung up on Holly. She wouldn't talk about it, though. Gail would shake her head and not answer, which was different from being dismissive or avoiding. She just said she didn't want to talk about it. Their little Peck was growing up.

As the days passed surrounding Rachel's wedding, Chloe hoped to see Gail and Holly bump into each other again. She and Lisa orchestrated a few situations, only to have them fail for all sorts of reasons. Gail had a call for a case with the Ds that took her off the streets and messed her schedule. Holly had to talk a panicked bride-to-be from skipping town.

They were all things that, Chloe knew, would make the story better in the end. It would make their history something to marvel at. But right now, it was annoying. And it wasn't helping that the covert looks she'd been getting from Frankie were changing from confused annoyance to smothered (and still confused) interest.

It was making Chloe positively itchy.

Chloe liked sex (really, come on, what reasonable adult didn't?) and from what Gail had mentioned in passing, Frankie was pretty good. The detective looked like she'd be good in bed. She looked fit and healthy. She wasn't a runner but a cyclist, which Chloe found out one day when she on a run through the park. After that day, after seeing Frankie zip by in her skin tight gear, Chloe's daydreams had taken off running. So had her dreams. And yes, Dream Frankie was good.

Itchy itchy itchy.

Since breaking up with Dov, her love life had been pretty empty. This time their breakup made sense. They did love each other and care about each other, but it was becoming more and more clear that Dov was going to have to decide if he wanted Chloe or the job of his dreams. She couldn't fault him for picking the job. Sure, it hurt, but watching her ex-boyfriend roll off to IA and become a success, well that was kinda hot.

Not that Chloe was waiting for him or pining after him. They talked about it for hours and, after some pretty darn good breakup sex, called it quits. It was satisfying in a weird way. She felt totally okay about it, which Chloe couldn't say the last time they broke up, or when she'd split with Wes. No, this time it all was right and correct. Which meant, when the opportunity happened, she was available for it and open to it.

Like most things in her life that were good and romantic, it happened at the Penny.

They'd all been sitting around, drinking like normal, when a woman in a bridesmaid's dress burst in. Gail fell silent mid sentence, staring at the door. It took Chloe a moment to realize the flustered bridesmaid was Holly. Rachel's wedding was that day, she'd known that, but it looked like Holly had left and came directly there.

Across the room, they stared at each other. Neither said a single thing. Without a word, Gail got up and grabbed her jacket, slinging it over Holly's shoulders and leading her back out of the Penny.

Chloe exhaled. "That was the most romantic thing I've ever seen," she sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"Really? That? Peck just stiffed us with the tab." Frankie, per usual, was grumpy about it.

"Oh, I'll pay," sighed Chloe happily.

"Then I'm getting another round," announced Frankie. She came back with fresh beers for both of them. "You know, for all you know they're sitting in a car talking about how they can't hook up because Holly's leaving town."

Taking her beer, Chloe frowned. "Do you have a single romantic bone in your body? Or is all your time spent thinking up annoying things like that to say? Where's your hope?"

Frankie rolled her eyes. "Hope? Peck's never leaving Toronto. The city can shit on her all it wants, her family can spit on her, and she's staying out of pure tenacity."

"And Holly?" Chloe found she was actually interested to hear this one.

"She never came back before."

Chloe smiled. "It's not that simple, Frankie, and you know it." She tapped Frankie's nose. "They have a connection. They're not going to let opportunity walk away."

Frankie snorted and rubbed her nose. "Says you. Gail's back."

The blonde was without her coat though. "Chloe, gimme your keys."

Without asking why, Chloe handed them over and beamed at Gail. "Drive safe." She grinned and turned the thousand watt smile on Frankie. "She's driving Holly somewhere."

"You think so?"

"She didn't have her jacket," Chloe said smugly.

Frankie frowned. "How the hell are you getting home?"

"You're going to drive me, silly. Because I was right and you were wrong, and if you don't, I'll tell everyone."

The detective looked flustered and lost but covered it by drinking her beer. "Fine," she muttered.

Stage one complete, decided Chloe. And when Frankie dropped her off, she made a point to identify her own car. "Looks like Gail's here." Both she and Frankie looked up towards Gail's apartment and saw no lights on. Promising. "Thank you for the ride."

"Whatever. It's on my way."

It wasn't, and Chloe knew that. She smiled and leaned in, her face millimeters from Frankie's. "I mean it, Frankie." Her breath ghosted over Frankie's lips. "Thank you." As Chloe moved back to her seat, she saw with delight that Frankie's eyes were wide and dark, her breath was shallow and faster than normal. "Want to come up?"

"What? Why?" Frankie was flustered and scowled. "So I can see a prom dress on Peck's floor?"

"I meant my apartment, silly," laughed Chloe, getting out of the car.

"What? Why would I do that? Eat some left over piri-piri?" The bluster was adorable and endearing.

Chloe made sure to flaunt her style, sashaying a little as she walked to the front of her building. "I do tend to make enough for leftovers. If you want some."

By the time she'd unlocked the front door, she heard Frankie cursing and locking her car in the guest parking spot. Smiling and silent, Chloe held the door open for Frankie and led her up to her floor. Gail's unit was at the other end of the hallway.

"Can you hear her apartment from here?" Frankie was looking down at Gail's apartment, the only one on the floor lacking any sort of holiday decoration.

"Nope! Can't even hear people I share walls with." Chloe bumped her door open and walked in, confident that she'd be followed. "Why? Plan on screaming?"

There was the sound of stumble behind her. "What?"

"What what? I'm teasing you, Anderson. Gail said you were wittier, but I think you're fun."

"Oh." Frankie did come in, closing the door and locking it. That was probably reflex. "I don't … I don't do this."

Chloe laughed and looked over her shoulder. "Go with women to their apartments? Really? You don't?"

Flustered, Frankie looked around. "That isn't what I meant."

And she knew. Chloe knew in that moment that not only had Gail been right, that Frankie had a thing for her, but it was a little more than a thing, it was a crush. Without even trying, Chloe had slipped in under Frankie's guard and thrown her off her pace. There was little Chloe liked more than someone who was uncomfortable in romance. It let Chloe have the lead and be more daring.

Daring. Right. Chloe leaned in and kissed Frankie's lips incredibly briefly, almost a passing peck. "You're adorable when you're not in charge."

"Shut. Shut up," growled Frankie, taking hold of Chloe's upper arms and kissing her. This was a real kiss. It was hungry and needy. It felt like Frankie had been holding herself back for days or weeks.

Chloe grinned into the kiss, gripping the front of Frankie's jacket and pulling her close. "You like when I talk," she noted and gently bit Frankie's bottom lip. The move startled the woman into letting go. Chloe smiled and shrugged off her coat.

The detective stood there, looking half lost. "What are you- what the hell are you doing?"

With a smile, she hung up her coat. "Are you hungry or…." Chloe wandered towards her bedroom, gesturing at it and the kitchen.

Frankie swallowed. Look at that. She'd thrown the lesbian lady killer so far off her game, Frankie was speechless. Smiling, Chloe lowered one hand and held the other, palm up, towards Frankie. After a moment, the detective took the hand and let herself be led into Chloe's bedroom. "I don't do this," she repeated.

"I know," smiled Chloe.

"I mean it." But Frankie looked less and less sure. She stepped into Chloe's bedroom and blinked. "I expected a Disney princess bed," she laughed.

Chloe laughed as well. "That would be Andy. She did up the kid's room like that." Stepping out of her shoes, Chloe looked over her shoulder. "Or is the Disney thing a turn on?"

Growling, Frankie grabbed her waist and nipped the side of her neck. "Shut up." Frankie's hands went up her shirt, fingers rippling across the skin of her stomach.

"You like it when I talk," countered Chloe, turning around and latching her fingers in Frankie's hair.

There was no struggle for dominance or need to prove who was better than the other. It was just that simple ebb and flow of finding out what made the other person tick. Chloe was never opposed to a good night of getting your jollies out, and Frankie was similar in many ways. They knew what they liked and they had no problems directing the other.

The next morning, Chloe mixed up the batter for pancakes and contemplated how to wake up Frankie in the best way. There was breakfast in bed. There was just coffee. There was no coffee and no clothes. Lots of options. As she mulled over that, her front door opened. Few people had the keys, so there was nothing to worry about.

"Hey, thanks for the car," greeted Gail, wearing sloppy sweats and her damp hair slicked back messily.

"Any time. Everything work out?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," shrugged Gail. She tossed the keys onto the small table by the door.

Chloe smiled and brought over a cup of coffee, used to mornings like this with Gail. She was not a morning person. "Yeah like good or yeah like you want to sit and sulk and watch girly movies?"

The blonde smiled slowly, almost shyly, and she sipped the coffee. "Good like can I have a second cup?"

Laughing loudly, Chloe went back to get a second cup. "You need to start bringing these back. I'm running out."

Before Gail could reply, the bedroom door opened. "Jesus, you're cheerful all the damn time," complained Frankie, wearing one of Chloe's shirts and, apparently, nothing else. She stared at Gail. "Oh."

Without turning a hair, Gail lifted her cup. "Hey."

"Hey," mumbled Frankie. "What... Why are you here?"

"Keys." Gail smiled dangerously and took the second coffee cup.

Chloe frowned. "Don't," she mouthed at Gail, who sighed. "Do you have food?"

Gail nodded. "Yep. See ya later." She went back out grinning.

"Crap," groaned Frankie, sitting on the couch.

Chloe locked the door again and breezed by, kissing Frankie's forehead. "Are you wearing panties? Because I like that couch and I have a serious no naked butt cheeks on my couch policy."

"It's a leather couch. I have panties on." Frankie scowled. "Gail's going to tell everyone."

Bringing coffee over, Chloe sat on Frankie's lap. "She won't." Looping an arm around Frankie's neck, she pulled her head in for a long kiss. "Hm. Morning breath is nasty." The coffee went into Frankie's befuddled hands and Chloe popped back up. "Pancakes? I didn't ask if you have allergies, but I've seen you eat bread and cheese, so pancakes and butter should be fine. Oh, but what about maple syrup? Can you even be allergic to that?"

"Please stop," groaned Frankie.

"Pancakes it is." Chloe turned on a burner.

After a moment, Frankie got off the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. "You're actually making pancakes."

"I like them."

"Of course you do." Frankie sighed and sipped the coffee. "What ... Why isn't Gail going to tell everyone?"

Chloe tilted her head. "Because I asked her not to." Why did people always think things were so complicated?

"That... That actually works?"

Pouring the first pancake into the pan, Chloe smiled. "I'm very persuasive. People underestimate me."

Under her breath, Frankie muttered, "Yeah, yeah they do."

And it seemed Frankie wasn't underestimating her anymore.

After breakfast, Chloe let Frankie lead them back to the bedroom, where they spent most of the day. Frankie didn't end up going back to her own place until Sunday afternoon, which was about the time Gail showed up with pizza.

"You come up for air yet?" The blonde looked amused. Also showered and clean.

"I could ask the same." Stretching and feeling deliciously sore, Chloe got out drinks and plates. "Where's Holly?"

"Lisa picked her up an hour ago. She has a flight back tonight." Gail headed to the couch with her plate and paused. "Did you and Frankie defile the couch?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You know I have a no naked butts on my couch rule."

"Don't need to be naked," noted Gail, firing up Netflix. "Its your turn."

"How to Train Your Dragon 2. Tragic love, dramatic character changes, but not too sappy."

Gail hesitated and clicked through to the movie. "Not sappy. Okay, fine. The first one was okay." They settled back and started to watch. "You're gonna wanna cover the hickey, by the way."

Touching the side of her neck, Chloe smirked. "The collar should cover it. Least I'm not as pale as you."

"Who is?" Gail grinned. "I have to ask. How'd you get her to come upstairs?"

"I got in her personal space. You were right, by the way. She gets really uncomfortable and twitchy. But gosh, she's not bragging." Chloe sighed, self-satisfied. "Loud too."

Gail smirked. "Yeah? Good for you."

They watched the dragons through their first race and run-in with the pirates. Then Chloe asked, "Is Holly coming back?"

"Lot to sort out," sighed Gail.

That wasn't a no. Chloe grinned. "You should get your own car." Gail grunted a reply and wiped her hands off. "Then you can make out with Holly in your own car."

"Shut up, or I forget Frankie doesn't want everyone to know you're all up in that."

With a broad smile, Chloe shut up and watched the movie. As the cartoons launched their Viking funeral, she asked, "Should I call her?"

"Frankie? No. Let her squirm. She's going to get riled up and frustrated." Gail grinned. "You... you play innocent, just be you. Cute, annoying, flirty. She'll be putty."

"Hug you?"

"Oh that's a given."

And that was how Chloe played it the next week. She pretended nothing out of the ordinary had happened with Frankie. She hugged Gail in the locker room and flirted with Chris like normal. She was perky and bubbly and chatty. As Traci said, she was perfectly Chloe and perfectly annoying.

Friday night rolled around again. Gail and Frankie and Traci sat at their normal table, while Chloe stayed at the bar with Chris and Luke, visiting from whatever rock he'd been under. Dov was off working undercover, which made all this much easier. Not that Chloe cared too much about Dov at this point, not like that, it just wasn't worth hurting a friend.

That night, Chloe caught Frankie eyeing her over and over again. The more Chloe touched Chris' shoulder or laughed at Luke's jokes, the more Frankie looked. And when Gail came over to buy another round, Chloe leaned into her and squeezed her arm. In the mirror behind the bar, Chloe could see Frankie practically exploding with rage. Jealousy.

Putty.

When Chloe left for the night, she made sure to stop by the table and hug Traci, but also to run her fingers surreptitiously across Frankie's back. Mostly. Gail noticed and smirked but, per her promise, kept quiet.

As planned, Chloe went out to Frankie's car and leaned against the driver side door. She didn't have to wait long. Frankie came out the side door, pulling her jacket on. "You shouldn't keep a girl waiting," teased Chloe.

"Get off my car, muppet," Frankie snarled. She was angry. Angry people did reckless, sometimes romantic things. Not Frankie, though. Normally Frankie was controlled and assured of her swagger.

Chloe smiled. "Or what?"

She stayed in place as Frankie walked right up to her. "Or what? You're a child."

Reaching over, Chloe eased her hands under Frankie's jacket, taking a hold of her hips and pulling her even closer. "No," breathed Chloe. "Not a child." She tilted her head and pressed her lips to Frankie's neck. Chloe felt more than heard the sharp intake of breath as she licked the shell of Frankie's ear.

Frankie shuddered. "What are we doing?"

"You. You are going to take me home. And I am going to make you forget how to walk."

Home turned out to be Chloe's place again. Though considering what Gail had said about Frankie's, it was a better choice. And she kept her promise, judging how Frankie was breathing just now. "Shit," muttered Frankie.

Chloe grinned and ran a finger down Frankie's chest. "Attractive."

"Shut up," grumbled Frankie, her eyes closing and a smile stuck on her face. Eventually she dozed off, her breathing deep and slow.

She seemed to have a delightful talent in wiping the smug, all knowing look off of Frankie's face. Not that Frankie couldn't reduce her to a whimpering puddle. The woman was talented, no doubt about that, and surprisingly she was considerate and aware. Figuring out how Chloe ticked was a challenge Frankie rose to with savoir-faire, and she definitely succeeded.

But Chloe hated to feel inadequate. She didn't mind feeling like a rookie, everyone had someone who had more experience. But she was good and smart and savvy, and she used all that to level the playing field.

It wasn't the oddest relationship she'd been in. Even with Dov there had been days and weeks where they'd not told anyone. But this felt different. This wasn't anyone being afraid of consequences, this was Frankie being so confused and thrown off her game that she couldn't find her feet or her swagger.

Frankie would normally brag about something like this, in some way or another. She'd flaunt how she shut up the muppet. How it was just sex. How Chloe was another notch in her bedpost. Clearly Chloe wasn't. Weeks passed into months. Spring turned into Summer and then Autumn, and Frankie was still regularly coming over to Chloe's.

They had been months filled with, first, what could only be called 'encounters.' Moments where she and Frankie stole privacy to kiss. Moments in her car, or Frankie's, where the center console impeded any serious actions. Moments behind the Penny or in the dark parking lot of the station, where no one might see them. Moments that generally led to Frankie coming over. Moments that tended to end with one or the other or both feeling drained and sated and limp.

The encounters had turned into a strange and regular habit. They knew how to plan their days so their nights would be spent like tonight. Another night where Frankie was asleep in her bed. Another night where the woman had fallen asleep with a promise to repay Chloe as soon as she could. That was a promise she'd never failed to keep, as it happened.

Rarely did three days in a row pass without Frankie coming over. She didn't have a key, but even so she had a habit of regularly buzzing twice to announce she was downstairs. Sometimes Frankie brought food and not always take out. Once she'd baked a lasagna, just to prove she could. Frankie was better at grilling and took charge of Chloe's battered Webster to make steaks and chicken. And yes, she loved Chloe's Piri-piri.

That night, though, they'd gone out. That wasn't terribly strange either. Going out to dinner had happened by accident a few times. They just ... They just went out. Similarly they'd caught movies together. Nothing fancy. And that night they did both. They went out to dinner, they went to the new Pixar movie, and then Frankie said she wanted to come over.

Of course it was code for sex.

And Chloe had no problem with the sex. The sex was good. It was after, in the quiet glow where all she heard was Frankie's breathing, she worried. Because the question of how she felt remained. How did she feel about having a sex relationship. There was no hand-holding or cuddling, except maybe a little in bed.

Lacing her fingers on Frankie's rib cage, Chloe rested her chin there and gazed up at the sleeping woman. How did she feel about Frankie? She certainly was enjoying what they were doing and she wanted to continue doing it. But somehow, accidentally, Frankie had fallen for her. Hard.

Chloe sighed and closed her eyes. The sleeping Frankie shifted, a hand coming up to rest on Chloe's back with a contented sigh.

Yes. This was a little unexpected.

"I didn't expect her to fall like that," muttered Chloe, sitting in Gail's counter a few days later, watching her friend clean.

"I didn't know she could," admitted Gail. The blonde tied her hair back and eyed the kitchen. "Okay. This is clean. Bedroom is clean. Living room is clean. Did I forget anything?"

Chloe grimaced, "Focus, Gail!"

Her friend threw a rubber glove at her. "I'm sorry, my actual girlfriend, the kind I can show off, is coming to spend two weeks with me. I'd like it to be nice."

"Why? You're just going to spend all your free time in the bedroom-" The other glove hit her face. "God, you're so gross!"

Gail smirked. "Okay. Fine. So Frankie fell in love with you. What's the problem?"

Scowling, Chloe dropped the gloves in the sink. "What's the problem? Gail, she's in love. Like she cooked me breakfast yesterday! She looks at me in the morning like ... She looks like you look at Holly! I wasn't prepared for that. I thought, you know, she was into me in a sexy way, and we'd have some fun before she remembered she hated me and then, you know, oh well. But it would be fun." Chloe covered her face.

"Seriously? You wanted to just have some fun with Frankie?" Gail looked surprised.

Chloe nodded. "Sex. She's really good at that too," she sighed.

"Eh, I guess." Gail opened her fridge and pulled out a pair of beers. "Okay, so ... do you not want to date her?"

"I don't know," winced Chloe, taking a beer. "I like her, but ... I wasn't looking for a relationship."

"Neither is Frankie, usually."

"Yeah but ... She's not seeing anyone else."

Gail tilted her head. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. You're exclusive."

Chloe made a face. "I accidentally got a girlfriend?"

"If that's what you want to be, sure."

"I don't know ... What are we?"

Gail snorted. "You should be asking Frankie this."

"Yeah, well. I'm asking you."

The blonde sighed and sat down at her kitchen table. "Okay. Do you like the sex?"

"Yeah," sighed Chloe, smiling.

"And Frankie? You like her?"

Chloe hesitated. She liked Frankie. When she wasn't all full of herself, she was a fun person who had a great sense of humor. She was smart, sarcastic, witty, and sexy in a way Chloe appreciated. "I do," admitted Chloe at length.

"Well." Gail tapped the lip of her beer bottle. "Then I think you need to tell her that."

"But... She's more into me!"

"Then don't break her heart, Chloe," said Gail sincerely. "Frankie may be a brat, but no one deserves that. If you don't think you can be into her like that, walk away."

With Gail's caution in mind, Chloe tried to figure out how to tell Frankie what she wanted out of their relationship. She was still in the throes of thoughts when Holly arrived, and still confused about her own feelings a week later when she went to the small party (if it could be called that) the department threw for Holly. Their newest medical examiner. A promotion from pathologist and a transfer back home. Dr. Holly Stewart was moving back to Toronto.

As the night drew on, Chloe found herself aware of a feeling. It grew as she watched Gail and Holly sitting with each other, leaning in and touching, kissing. They were still so clearly surprised at the way fate had worked out for them, that they were allowed this moment of happiness and a promise of a future. Gail was quiet and almost shy as she kept hold of Holly's hand. And Holly was continually brushing Gail's hair back, toying with it, teasing her about letting it grow back.

The feeling was envy, Chloe realized abruptly. She wanted what they had. She wanted to be free to sit in Frankie's lap if she felt like it. Not all stupid and sappy like Gail was with Holly, though that in and of itself was adorable. Gail. Being cute. No. She wanted to kiss Frankie in the bar and not have anyone really care. She wanted... She wanted to be actually dating the woman who'd fallen for her.

And Chloe knew then that love was doing it's messy, crazy, best work on her. Because that's what love was. It was messy, it was unpredictable, it broke your heart, and it made you want more. And sometimes it was accidental and snuck up on you when you thought you were with the least likely candidate.

Because what love was, was what it was. And she was falling for the cranky detective. Had fallen. That, in itself, wasn't novel. Chloe knew she fell into and out of love just like anyone else. But falling for Frankie was as unexpected as Frankie falling for her. She was in love with Frankie and she wanted to be more than a sex and dinner friend. She wanted ...

God. She wanted to be able to be herself around Frankie and not care if people knew. And Frankie did not seem to want that. Frankie seemed to be content about having sex and hanging out. She'd not wanted Gail to tell people about them. Ergo Frankie didn't want people to know.

Ergo she was a secret.

And that sucked.

"Why so down, Princess?" Frankie put a shot glass down before her and took the empty seat. "I thought you'd be all over that like a rainbow fairy."

Chloe wiped at her face. "Its nothing," she shrugged and took the drink, swirling it around in the glass. It was cheap whiskey. Of course.

But Frankie had figured her out in the last few months. The snarky cop eyed her and then the happy couple, and then Chloe again. "Huh," muttered Frankie, and she got back up.

It looked like Chloe wasn't even going to have to ask what Frankie wanted. One look and she scampered away. "Figures," sighed Chloe and she raised the shot glass to drink.

"God, not that," groaned Frankie, snatching it out of her hand. "Here, you like this stuff better, though God knows why."

Chloe blinked. "What... What?"

"You sound like Peck. The other drink was from the open bar, muppet." Frankie eyed her own glass. "Aguardente de Medronhos."

She sniffed the new glass and her eyes widened. Portuguese fruit brandy. Her father's favorite. Her favorite too, which Frankie knew. They'd spent part of a night naked on her rug sipping it and making love. She'd been pleased to find that a shot, followed by trailing kisses down Frankie's abdomen, lit the other woman on fire. "They have this?"

"They do if you ask," shrugged Frankie. "Cheers." She downed her glass, just like Chloe had taught her.

"Cheers," smiled Chloe, feeling better, if confused, and followed suit. She thought to ask what the drink was about, only to have Frankie lean in and kiss her.

It was a long, slow, kiss. The sort that left a burning ember in your body, heating up from head to toe, making you crave more than just the kiss. The kiss followed the flames of the brandy, down and down and swirling until all she was sure about was that there were lips touching hers, fingers caressing her jawline, and Frankie was right there, making her be everything Chloe could feel in that moment. It wasn't romantic in the slightest, not the way everyone thought about romance. It was just a moment in time where Frankie thought of her and did something.

Simple. Easy. Love.

"Better?"

"Oh," she sighed. "Yes."

Satisfied, Frankie draped an arm across the back of Chloe's chair. "And here I thought you just didn't want your idiot friends to know."

"I thought you didn't," admitted Chloe, feeling tingly and amused and stupid all at once.

"I could care less what they think." And knowing Frankie, it was probably true. "I can't believe you got all mopey because you couldn't kiss me in a bar. That's just pathetic. You should have just stepped up and kissed me."

Smiling, Chloe turned and did just that. Someone noticed the second time and hooted, only to have Gail shout at them to knock it off or she'd get her taser. "Next time I will," promised Chloe, and she settled herself back against the other woman.

Frankie smiled. "Just don't expect me to get lovey dovey like those two idiots. We're not doing that."

"Definitely not," agreed Chloe, watching Gail grin like a fool as Holly kissed her again. Sure, Chloe had been like that with Dov. But not when she'd been with Wes. And Frankie was like her the same way Wes was.

"Seriously, look at that. Stewart broke Peck!"

"She's not broken, silly," laughed Chloe. "That's just the magic of Holly."

"I don't like it."

"Color me surprised."

Frankie frowned and looked serious for a moment. "I mean it. I don't do sappy dates and first kiss crap."

"No planned romantic dinners," agreed Chloe. When Frankie gave her a confused look, Chloe smiled. "What? You thought I was some glossy magazine slave to fashion? Have you met me?"

"Yeah, yeah I have. In all your chatterbox glory," laughed Frankie. "I don't know what to expect with you."

Chloe reached forward for the bad whiskey. "That's a good thing. I don't want to be predictable. And..." She downed the shot. "Oh my god, you were right. That's terrible. Bleah!" Chloe stuck her tongue out as if she could get the taste out that way. The more she made a face, the more Frankie laughed at her. "Ugh, who let them buy shitty booze like that? I mean come on, Holly's awesome! They should have top shelf."

"You are one of a kind, Price," chortled Frankie, pulling over some pretzels.

"Hey, I'm a let it happen kind of woman, Anderson," she sassed back. A pretzel did help get the taste out of her mouth. "Look, you don't want a clingy girlfriend. I had that with Dov. Didn't work. I'm good with seeing what happens."

"Yeah," sighed Frankie, as if a load was lifted off her chest. "I'm gonna give up trying to guess about you, Chloe Price."

"Probably better for your sanity," chirped Chloe, grinning. "Word of warning, on my birthday I like to watch The Breakfast Club," she informed Frankie.

After a moment, the detective nodded. "It's a good movie."

What love was, was unpredictable. It was screwy and unplanned and unexpected. Even when you knew what love was, it would come around and slap you when you were looking the other way.

And that was just fine by her. Love was love. It took its own form and its own time and it's own path. For now, it took her with a cranky, snide, detective. Sure, Frankie didn't do romance and she didn't do long afternoon snuggles. But she did sit on the couch during John Hughes movies, enjoying the teen angst. And she knew the dialogue in The Princess Bride by heart (and instructed Chloe to tell no one, ever).

But none of that was sappy, simpering, love. It wasn't easy love either. It wasn't hard love. It was just the way their love worked. There would be fights, arguments when Chloe was too flirty or Frankie too bitter. There would be days that they pushed each other's buttons. Nights when Chloe would sleep alone from those days.

Thankfully those nights were few and far between. For the most part, they found a balance of sarcasm and sass. Because it turned out Chloe didn't need all those annoying trappings of love. She didn't need the flowers and chocolate and cookies, or teddy bears. While it annoyed Frankie that some nights it took Chloe a little too long to get ready, she was captivated by the end result.

It turned out that Chloe needed someone whom she could drag out dancing and be silly around. She needed, and wanted, a partner who was comfortable in being themselves. Someone who didn't care what people said, who took the world by the horns.

And she'd fallen in love with a woman who did that. Frankie, liked her, marched to her own beat, to her own drummer. It was a bitter, cranky, argumentative detective who took the cake. She turned out to be the one who got it, who got her. Who apparently loved her in a weird, grumpy, sarcastic way.

Chloe, for one, was content to see where that took them.


The End.