This wasn't really supposed to make Gail seem so... mean, but it came out that way. So I stuck to it and turned her into my own character sort of. We haven't seen that much of her, so maybe this is what really goes on her head. Inspiration includes "Blonde Diversion" by JhsGptMS and Gives You Hell by All-American Rejects. ;) Enjoy!
Gail Peck was irritated.
Not irritated in her normal, everyone-is-such-an-idiot kind of way, but more of an Andy-McNally-is-even-more-of-an-idiot-than-I-thought kind of way. That little significant detail was probably the reason she declined Sam's offer to take her home. Despite how much she wanted to and despite how much Andy deserved feeling jealous for a while, she really couldn't do that kind of thing to Sam. He reminded her of a lovesick puppy, how hard he had fallen for the brown-eyed doe.
So she had walked alone, a pissed off bounce in her step. Maybe that was just the way she always walked, with a purpose. She made her slightly alcohol-fuzzed way down a street she had only been down a couple times before. She was a cop, though – she had perfect memory. Past the house for sale, past the tree with its stupid pink petals. To the steps of the apartment complex she was looking for.
It was a while before her "victim" showed up, leaving Gail to her frustrated thoughts. Which… wasn't the best at the moment. Later on, she would realize it was a wonder Andy came home at all, seeing that Luke would probably want to "congratulate" her on officially not being a rookie anymore.
She still couldn't figure out how all five of them successfully became full-fledged cops on their first evaluation. She knew she would pass –duh– and she had had a sneaking suspicion that McNally would, too. They had the blood of cops running through them. It was partially if not all instinct for them both. But Dov Epstein, the one so proud of dating a stripper. He's as eager as a golden retriever to do this job, which was both hilarious and annoying at the same time. He really needed to grow up. Then there was Traci Nash, who never did anything besides desk duty anymore because of her son. That's noble, but maybe was hiding the fact she couldn't take the exhilaration of the job. Last, Chris Diaz was a talking manual, which got really old. No one cared that he memorized the whole damn book. He needed to show some initiative.
Her pale blond hair swayed in the playful breeze, giving the impressing that she was visibly bristling. She had built up a strong front whenever her thoughts gravitated toward Chris. Since the incident with Detective Bibby, the two only had harsh words toward each other. Okay, Chris's harsh words consisted of "So can't you be nice to me?" but the kid never liked confrontation.
So at the moment, Gail let herself think of the weeks that she and Chris had been together. If she was completely honest, she did kind of miss those simpler, happier times. Especially that party that his neighbor threw the night of the blackout, the tiny lights coming on when they finally got power again. It had been a perfect evening with the perfect person, along with all their friends. Besides Andy, that is. No one knows what happened to her that night, but she didn't really cared either.
She had hopped up onto the post next to the stairs, sitting with her legs crossed professionally. This was serious business.
Finally, after about half an hour of waiting, Andy walked up with Callaghan at her side. Ooh, awkward for them. "Oh, hey Gail," Andy said confusion overpowering any discomfort. Well that's discouraging. "You go on, Luke. I'll be up in a sec." He nodded, gave an absent-minded wave to Gail, and bounced up the steps.
When the door shut behind him, Gail smirked. "Isn't he the charmer?" she muttered to herself sarcastically.
Andy sighed and folded her arms. When Gail made no effort to speak or even stand up, she asked, "Is there something you want? I expected you to be with Sam tonight. You two seem friendly."
Ah, jealousy. The harshest of all emotions, as it's the hardest to convey with others. Andy didn't seem to have any problems though. "Nah, he went home and I came here. Don't tell him that I told you, but he is kinda boring." She tapped her foot in midair, not impatiently but more out of boredom.
"He doesn't reveal much of himself to people. I don't know why," she replied.
Gail looked upward hopelessly. "Why did you choose Luke? I mean, he's gorgeous but come on. An eight-year-old boy would have chosen Sam over Luke any day."
"I'm not having this conversation with you. Go home." Finally, they reached desperation. About time.
The blond fell gracefully to her feet and stretched. "Whatever. I'm just saying he's crazy about you. More than Luke will ever be for a living thing. He's in love with his dead bodies." She set off down the sidewalk, knowing that Andy would call her back.
It took a while, but the imminent "Wait," did come out. "What do you mean? How can you tell?"
Gail spun on her heel and stared at Andy. Is she trying to say she couldn't see the way he looks at her? "You seriously don't know? He isn't your T.O. anymore. He's completely available for you and you stick. With. Homicidal Luke."
"He's not homicidal!"
"Whatever floats your boat. I'm just trying to tell you that you and Sam are kinda perfect for each other. And your opportunity is slipping." She turned around and started away. This conversation was over, signaled by a carefree wave over her shoulder.
"Hey, Gail?"
"WHAT." The word came out more annoyed than she intended, which was all the better.
"Thank you."
"…You're welcome, Andy."
