Title: I Was Married
Pairing: Gail Peck/Holly Stewart
Rating: T
Disclaimer: None of the Rookie Blue characters belong to me; I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
A/N: I've been suffering from writers' block for what feels like forever now, but recently I read this creative writing article that suggested if you have writers' block that you should just sit down and write anything, even if it turns out crappy. Sometimes you have to write to get going, and sure, you'll have some things that shouldn't see the light of day, but you may also produce a gem or two along the way. I'm trying to stop being so harsh on myself and just write. I don't have the time like I used too, and maybe I am a little rusty, but I love being creative, it feels freeing and rewarding, and so I'm just trying to let myself write at the moment, no matter how it turns out.
This story is a result of that process, and I have no idea how it will turn out.
Prompt: Gail and Holly, as friends, get drunk and married in Vegas.
/
You and I were born
(Start again, start again)
And to my heart confusion rose against
The muscles fought so long
(Fought so long)
To control against the pull of one magnet
To another magnet
– Tegan And Sara – I Was Married.
/
Gail becomes aware that she's conscious gradually.
There's a dull, throbbing ache at the base of her skull, that only seems to grow increasingly tighter each time she takes a breath, and a horrid, dry, cotton feeling to her mouth that she can't swallow away.
As her bleary eyes slowly begin to flutter open against the bright, morning sunlight that's streaming into the room, she feels her stomach twist and coil, a wave of nausea rushing through her as she presses her face deeper into her pillow and groans in protest.
An echoing groan fills her ears a moment later, and it's only then that Gail becomes acutely aware of the weight of an arm draped across her hip, and the unexpected warmth of a body pressed flush against her bare back.
"Too bright," a familiar voice mumbles against the nape of her neck, soft lips brushing again her skin as the body nuzzles closer, resisting the harsh reality. "Make it go away."
Gail tries to lull the panic creeping into her chest then, frantically searching her memory for pieces of the jumbled puzzle that was the previous evening. As her mind stumbles over bits and pieces of the night – drinking, dancing, gambling, laughing, a silly idea, a dollar store, a chapel – she forces her eyes open, grimacing against the light once more and glances over her shoulder, her gaze instantly settling upon a mess of ruffled, dark hair.
She curses inwardly, not wanting to believe her memories to be accurate, and lets her gaze trail down to the arm sprawled across her hip, her eyes easily finding the cheap, gold-plastic ring settled upon her best friend's ring finger.
Fuck.
/
"What did we do?" Holly breathes exasperatedly for the tenth or so time, agitatedly pacing around their room, and actively avoiding making eye contact with her. "I mean, what the hell were we thinking, Gail?"
"We weren't thinking, Hol, that's kinda how this happened," she replies, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead, trying to ease her pulsing headache, Holly's pacing not helping her waves of dizziness at all.
This was supposed to be a fun, long weekend away, celebrating her upcoming promotion to detective-in-training, blowing off some steam and having a good time. It was never supposed to involve an intoxicated, spontaneous, Elvis-themed wedding to her best friend, and it most certainly wasn't supposed to involve celebrating that wedding by renting the honeymoon suite of some sleazy motel and fucking said best friend in a ridiculous heart-shaped bed.
She thinks about the last time she was in Vegas, young and incredibly naïve as she and Nick made their big plans to get married to piss off her parents, only for her to wake up alone after their first night there, with Nick long gone without even saying goodbye, and her cheap, store bought wedding dress, left hanging in the motel closet with the tags still on, never to be worn.
Vegas, Gail thinks in amusement, should really have gotten a restraining order against her, because apparently she's not capable of making good, adult decisions while she's here.
"It's not funny, Gail," Holly snaps, her eyes flashing with hurt as she briefly glances over at her. "It's not funny at all, we're married."
"I'm sorry," Gail replies instantly, not realising she'd been chuckling at her thoughts aloud. "It's not funny, you're right. But can you stop pacing for a second and actually look at me, Hol? Please."
Holly stops pacing immediately, and shyly lets her gaze settle on Gail's. "We got drunk married and slept together, Gail. I don't even... I can't... I feel weird even looking at you."
"I know, I feel weird about all this too, but we're still us," Gail replies softly, offering a small smile and a shrug. "We'll figure this out together, I promise. But for now, quit freaking out because my head's killing me and I can't process. Come sit," she says, holding her hand out for Holly to take and waiting for Holly to step forward and gently grasp her hand before pulling her to sit down next to her on the edge of the bed.
Holly let's Gail curl her arm around her shoulders and pull her to lean against her side, before sighing and murmuring, "Promise me nothing will change, that we won't lose our friendship over this mess, Gail."
Gail leans her cheek against the top of Holly's head and closes her eyes. "You could never lose me, Lunchbox, you know that. Everything will work out how it's supposed too, you don't need to worry, okay," she breathes quietly, sealing her promise with a reassuring kiss to Holly's temple.
/
They come up with an idea once they're back home – well, Holly comes up with an idea, and Gail nods along – they'll get an annulment.
It's simple really, Holly insists, they were beyond drunk while they were in Vegas, so technically it could be argued that they had no idea what they were really agreeing to when they vowed to be wife and wife. All they have to do is argue their case in front of a judge, and then he'll see that it was a mistake and grant them an annulment, no messy divorce papers needed.
It's the perfect plan, until it isn't.
"I just have one final question to ask you before I can make a decision on your case," Judge Sanders says, glancing up from his notes to regard them both seriously. "Was the marriage consummated?"
It catches them both a little off guard, Gail's cheeks instantly flushing a bright, rosy red, and Holly's eyes suddenly refusing to look anywhere but at the ground. It's the one part of their wild weekend in Vegas that they've been actively avoiding talking about. They both know what happened, but the need to discuss it at any length hasn't been something either of them have dared to think about, let alone bring up with one another.
"Well?" Judge Sanders prompts when neither of them speak up to answer his previous question.
"It's... complicated," Gail mumbles, feeling her flush burning hotly at the tip of her ears, her eyes daring to glance over at Holly who is still refusing to look up from her feet.
"It's really not, Officer Peck," Judge Sanders cuts in bluntly. "Either you consummated the marriage or you didn't, so which it is?"
Gail feels herself shrinking back into her chair as he stares over at her, his eyebrow raising questioningly as his patience evidently begins to wear thin. She opens her mouth to respond but finds the words lost on the tip of her tongue, unsure how to explain the situation so that his decision will be made in their favour.
"It was..." Holly mumbles, breaking the uncomfortable silence and looking timidly up at the judge. "I mean, we did... consummate it, that is."
Judge Sanders releases a deep sigh and links his hands together over his notes. "I'm afraid then, that I cannot, in good will, grant you an annulment. You may believe your marriage to be a mistake, but in spite of the alcohol you two consumed, you both, on some level of consciousness, followed traditional marriage conventions, and consummated your union after the ceremony. This leads me to believe that some part of you knew what had happened, and what you were doing. It is with this knowledge that I advise you to seek divorce if you cannot make your marriage work."
The reality of his decision feels like the sharp, jolting sting of a slap across the face, and when they leave the courthouse, Gail finds they're unable to even look at each other. There's an utter, consuming silence surrounding them now, which neither of them knows how to break, and even if either of them could find their voice, Gail knows there's nothing they could say that would change the outcome of what they've done.
/
Holly grows quiet and distant in the days that follow, and Gail feels a hollowness growing inside of her chest at the sudden lack of Holly's presence in her life.
She misses the easiness of their interactions; Holly's silly, nerdy jokes, and her amused lopsided smile whenever Gail's dishing out her best, witty, snarky comments. She misses the comfort she can find in the friendly touches that normally pass between them; a playful slap on the butt, a kiss on the cheek hello, a hug after a bad day, or a friendly snuggle while curled up watching a movie on those cold, dark, wintry Toronto nights they so often have. But what Gail misses most of all is the contentedness that comes from having somebody know her, truly know her in ways the rest of her friends don't. Holly understands her, sometimes better than she understands herself, and she misses their connection, unbearably.
She misses her best friend and she knows there's not much she can do to make things right between them until they figure out their next step, get the ball rolling on their divorce – the idea of which, for reasons she doesn't fully understand, makes her stomach knot unpleasantly and her heart ache dolefully – but she's damn well going to try her best to make Holly smile again.
Gail had truly meant it when she promised Holly that she wouldn't let them lose their friendship over this ordeal, and she intends to do everything in her power to keep it.
/
Holly's eyebrows are drawn together in concentration as she types furiously away on her computer, not noticing Gail's presence in the doorway of her office at all, and so Gail simply watches her best friend for several moments, smiling to herself at seeing Holly so lost in her work.
It's only when Holly finally finishes up her report, hitting the full-stop key loudly in triumph and smiling to herself as she leans back in her chair, that her eyes come to rest on Gail leaning patiently against the door-jamb, watching her with a soft, fond smile.
"Hi," Gail greets in a small voice, suddenly feeling apprehensive now that she's been spotted.
It's only been three days since they last saw each other, but the lack of any communication, no bantering texts throughout the day or late night phone calls to moan about their shifts, makes it feel like it's been far longer.
Holly smiles sheepishly back at her, feeling the guilty weight of her avoidance settling over her. "Hey back."
Gail worries her bottom lip between her teeth as a beat of silence passes between them, causing her to fidget uncomfortably from foot-to-foot, unsure exactly how she should proceed, completely unused to any awkwardness between them, but before she can over-analyse her next move, Holly speaks again.
"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," she says, her mouth twisting into a sad frown, and her hand going up to nervously adjust her glasses.
"It's okay, I get it," Gail responds, taking a daring step farther into Holly's office.
Holly shakes her head and looks up at her, holding her gaze properly for the first time since before the whole drunk-marriage thing happened.
"It's not okay," Holly retorts. "It's not fair of me to shut down and push you away. I just... I don't know how to deal with all this, Gail. I mean, I thought if I ever got married, it would be the real thing, you know? I never wanted to end up as just another divorce statistic." Gail purses her lips together into a sad, tight line and nods, understanding completely. "And I'm sorry, about the annulment, I just couldn't lie to the judge when he was staring at me all intense and judge-y."
Gail lets out a little laugh and smiles over at her friend, wanting nothing more than to cheer her up a little. "You've always been a terrible liar, Lunchbox. Besides, I'm a total, badass, cop-hottie, why on earth would you lie to a judge about that. I personally think he wanted me, and that's why he got so uppity about whether we consummated our marriage or not. He's envious you got to see this," she gestures along her body and smirks playfully. "in all its naked glory, and he didn't."
Holly bites at her lip, trying and failing miserably to hold back her amusement at Gail's antics. "You're insane, you know that right?" she teases with a bright smile. "Not to mention your ego can barely fit in my office right now."
Gail waggles her eyebrows at her in response, attempting her best over-exaggerated, sexy smirk, and making Holly break out into a hearty laugh. It's easily the most enchanting sound Gail's heard in days, and she feels herself breaking into an affectionate smile just because of it. "I've missed you," she confesses quietly once Holly's laughter has died down.
"Missed you too," Holly murmurs back, pushing herself up from her seat to step forward and wrap her arms around Gail, drawing her in for a much needed hug.
Gail feels herself melt into Holly's embrace, and takes a second to close her eyes and breathe her in, finally feeling content again after days of feeling nothing but anxious. She feels Holly's fingers grasping tightly at her through her uniform and knows that her best friend has felt the same.
/
"I guess we better get a lawyer to start the divorce proceedings," Holly says the next day as Gail helps her soap up her hand enough that the cheap, gold-plastic ring enclosing Holly's ring finger finally comes loose.
"The ring's barely off and you're already moving on, gotta say, that hurts a little, Hol," Gail jests, drying her own hands, and placing the ring down on the kitchen counter. "I know it's not 24-carat or anything, but at least I got you one, as intoxicated as I was and all."
Holly tilts her head to the side and smiles fondly at her. "Well you shouldn't have proposed if you were just going to give a gal a cheap ring."
"Shouldn't have accepted if you were that put off by my offering," Gail quips back, earning herself a slap to the butt with the dish-towel. "At least I proposed in a nice setting, like a true romantic."
"Wendy's is not nice setting for a proposal," Holly laughs, taking the ring from the counter and studying it for a moment before chucking it over at Gail. "Bin that," she instructs, before turning and gathering the fresh fish and veggies they've bought to prepare for dinner.
"I provided you with a large portion of fries and a large chocolate Frosty, so don't act like you were hard done by, Stewart," Gail fires back playfully.
Holly just hums in agreement, her focus diverted as she carefully chops the vegetables, and Gail takes her moment of distraction to stare down at the cheap, gold-plastic ring suddenly in her hands. She doesn't understand why the idea of throwing it away causes her heart to pinch painfully, but it does, and so as stupid as it seems – even to her – she slides the ring into her pocket for safekeeping.
After dinner, Holly settles down on the couch with her laptop in her lap, looking up local lawyers while Gail searches through Netflix for something for them to watch. They settle on watching the second episode of some wildlife documentary series, and after a good twenty minutes, Holly huffs out heavily in frustration and slams her laptop closed.
Gail jumps a little at the sudden sound and flicks her eyes over to her best friend. "What's wrong?"
"Everything," Holly snaps, and then instantly reaches out to cover Gail's hand, squeezing gently in apology. "I'm sorry, it's just the wrong time for all of this to be happening. I have my research article due in a couple of months, and I'm up for my yearly review at work next week. I could have really just done without the added stress and paperwork of divorce."
Gail shifts so that she's facing Holly more fully on the couch and reaches out to tug affectionately at a strand of hair that's come loose from her ponytail. "There's no rush on getting the divorce, Hol," she says consolingly, offering Holly a soft smile. "If it's stressing you out, why don't we just wait a couple of months until things have calmed down and go from there. We know it needs to happen eventually, but I'm not trying to take you for half your house and alimony, and you're not trying to steal my vinyl collection, so I don't think we'll cause each other any harm if we wait a little."
Holly stares back at her quietly for a few seconds, weighing her suggestion up. "Are you sure you don't mind waiting? I mean, what about those blind dates your mother has planned for you? She'll be furious if she finds out about this."
"Of course I don't mind waiting," Gail smirks in response, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Hol, now I can finally give my mother a real reason why I can't go out with any more of her pretentious, boring, fake-accent bachelors instead of making shit up."
"Oh? And what exactly will you say when you cancel on these fine, eligible young men your mother has searched out for you?" Holly teases back, feeling relief flooding over her at not having to deal with any of it just yet.
Gail curls her fingers around Holly's own and draws her hand up to her mouth, lightly dusting a kiss across the back of Holly's knuckles, and jests, "That my smart, sexy wife is all that I need and all that I want."
"What a charmer I've managed to bag for myself," Holly laughs in response as she pulls her hand back. She sets her laptop down on the floor then and reaches out to grab at Gail's arm, tugging at her until Gail's shifting to come cuddle up against her side. "As long as you're sure you don't mind waiting a little while?"
"I really don't. Now shhh, watch," Gail hums as she nuzzles herself closer until she's comfortable.
As they resume watching the wildlife documentary, Gail feels her eyes growing heavy and fluttering closed as Holly's fingers start idly running through her hair and scratching soothingly at her scalp, leaving her feeling utterly happy and content.
Everything finally feeling like it's back to the way it should be.
A little while later, seconds just before she feels herself starting to drift into a deep sleep, Gail hears a voice – strangely, it sounds a lot like her own – echoing inside her head that maybe what she said wasn't just a joke, maybe she really does have everything that she needs and wants already.
In the days that follow, she finds herself unable to escape the feeling that maybe the voice is right; maybe, just maybe, Holly has been what she needs and what she wants all along.
Fuck.
