The Penny is loud as always, the familiar noises of conversation, laughter and the clink of glasses merging into a single solid wave of sound. The wave washes over the bar, the karaoke machine (not currently in use, but the night is alas still young) and the trio of figures seated around a small table.

One of the figures leans back in his chair, saluting the other two with an open bottle of beer.

"Another round to me," Dov says, grinning in that way that Gail thinks makes him look like a blitzed Dachshund. "Just call me the King."

"Yeah, King Dork," Gail retorts, but her heart isn't really in it. She looks around the bar, tapping her fingers restlessly on the side of her glass.

"Mock all you like, my friend, but-"

"Okay." Gail purses her lips, looking Dov up and down. Even as distracted as she is, there's no way in hell that she's going to pass up a straight line like that. "Your jacket is stupid and that haircut makes you look like a serial killer."

Chris lets out a snort of laughter, and then quickly plasters a 'who me?' expression on his face as Dov spins around in his direction and glares. Gail rolls her eyes as the two of them seem to have a whole conversation conducted entirely through the medium of shoulders and eyebrows. It ends, predictably enough, with the two of them turning back to present a united front to her.

'Yay for the bro code,' she thinks, doing her level best to light them on fire with the power of her mind.

It doesn't work.

Just like all the other times she's tried.

(She'll develop that power yet.)

"*Fortunately,*" Dov says firmly, glowering at Gail in the most *adorable* way. "I am magnanimous in victory, so I'm prepared to let that slide. *If...*" He pauses, possibly for effect. Unfortunately for him, the effect is more dementia than drama. "You get me a beer."

She meets his gaze with a stare that's made better men than Dov Epstein cry like little girls.

"Get your own damn beer," she says, not even bothering to make it a proper sneer. And then her gaze alights on a familiar figure over his shoulder and she promptly loses all interest in his reply.

"Hey, there's Chloe," says Chris quickly, clearly seizing on the distraction with relief.

Ever the peacemaker.

Well, just as long as he's not the one holding the douche-ball. Which, to his credit, he hasn't done for a little while now, but Gail isn't feeling particularly inclined to be charitable at the moment.

Chloe, perky in a way Gail really feels she should find disgusting, gives a bright smile and a cheery wave when she sees that they've spotted her, practically skipping over to their table like a Disney princess on speed.

Gail is moderately distressed to admit, even to herself, that she now finds this actually cute.

"Hi guys," she says, and her voice is as joy-filled and bouncy as she is. If it was anyone else, Gail would already be making sick noises. Since it's Chloe, however, she supposes she'll just have to tolerate it, however grudgingly.

Apparently it's a part of being a good girlfriend that she hadn't noticed when she'd signed up for the job.

Damn that small print.

"Sorry I'm late," Chloe trills, still smiling like she's won the lottery or something. "I got stuck arbitrating a domestic that seemed to go on *forever*. It all turned out alright in the end, though. He wasn't actually having an affair after all. He'd been planning to propose! All the 'sneaking around' she'd noticed was him trying to plan a suitably romantic setting without giving the game away. But he asked her then and there, and she said yes!"

She all-but claps her hands in glee, beaming around at them all like she considers this a personal triumph. Gail is almost surprised that they're not suddenly surrounded by a host of inexplicably singing woodland creatures.

It's probably just as well that doesn't happen. Her gun's back at the station, and she doesn't think beating Bambi to death with a chair leg would particularly endear her to Chloe.

"They even invited us to the wedding," Chloe continues. "It's kind of short notice, though. Next week! In Vegas! They just didn't want to wait, you see. Sooooooo romantic!"

"Sooooo headed for divorce," Gail mutters, unable to help herself.

Okay, maybe she's not *that* great a girlfriend.

In any case, her interjection breaks the hypnotic spell that Chloe's cheerful babbling seems to have cast over the group.

Dov shakes his head as if to clear the fog, chivalrously pulling out a chair for Chloe. Gail narrows her eyes at him, but before she can say anything - if she was even going to say anything, which she hadn't decided yet since it's not as if she's insecure or jealous or anything; it's just the principle of the thing - she finds herself suddenly distracted by a faceful of Chloe.

Chloe's smile widens, something that Gail wouldn't have thought was actually physically possible. "Hello, Gail," she says softly.

To Gail's utter horror, she realises that Chloe's coming in for a kiss.

In public.

In front of a bar full of their fellow cops.

In front of Chris and Dov.

"Alright, my round," Gail says, standing up and taking a step towards the bar. "Two bottles of watery piss for you boys, and real drinks for us girls. I'll be right back."

"I'll come with you," Chloe says brightly, and before Gail can pull away, her hand is suddenly captured in a death grip.

"Fine," Gail says through gritted teeth.

Trying to hide their joined hands with her body, she pulls Chloe away through the crowd, which magically seems to melt away before them.

As is only right and proper.

In almost no time at all, the two of them are standing at the bar, waiting to be served.

"Don't I get a hello?" Chloe mock-pouts, but she can't hold the expression for long, her cheeks dimpling as she grins like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Hello," Gail says distantly, half her attention on trying to attract the attention of a bartender.

"Hi!" Chloe chirps in response, her face lighting up like a Halloween pumpkin. "It's great to see you! I mean, I know we saw each other briefly at work, but that's not the same. We barely even got to say more than a few words to each other. And anyway, you're just so *uptight* there."

"I am *not* uptight," Gail hisses.

"No?" Chloe says, looking distinctly impish as she starts to lean in close.

And when did she even get so close, anyway?

"No," Gail mutters, trying to put a little space between them, but finding the bar pressing into her back.

"Then prove it."

Gail's eyes narrow as she studies Chloe, not trusting the way her smile twists, turning wry and wicked. Even if it does make her look incredibly hot right now.

"How?" Gail asks cautiously.

"Kiss me."

Gail blinks.

"What, here?"

"Here and now, right in front of god and everybody. Come on." Suddenly Chloe's pressing right up against Gail, their bodies so close that Gail can feel every time that Chloe takes a breath. "Don't you *want* to kiss me?"

"I- I-" 'Get a grip, Peck!' For some reason, Gail's attempt to snap herself out of this stupid paralysis sounds a lot like her mother's voice, but that's somewhere she *so* is not going to go right now. "Of course I do," she murmurs, keeping her voice low. Like that will make this less of a scene, less of a public display. Like people won't *look* just because she's keeping her voice down. "That's just playing dirty."

"Isn't it, though?" Chloe agrees, sounding disgustingly pleased with herself. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

She wiggles a little against Gail's body, resting her hands lightly on Gail's hips.

Gail wonders absently if the thermostat in the bar is broken, because it suddenly seems to be very hot in here. Hot and... Wasn't there something she was supposed to be doing? Something... Something...

"Drinks!" She blurts out, like she's just had some kind of epiphany. "We're never going to get served at this rate."

That's better. That sounded far more like her usual self, and far less like someone who was seriously considering dragging her girlfriend off to the toilets and risking getting cited for public indecency.

Because she's not thinking about that at all right now.

She's really trying not to, anyway.

She catches a glimpse of Dov and Chris, and that's just like having a bucket of ice water tipped over her head. Because she really can't do this now. She just can't.

Her chest feels tight with a confusing, conflicting rush of emotions. Admiration (love) for Chloe and her ability to just be herself without giving a good goddamn what other people think about it, or about her. Anger and envy and the acid burn of shame.

*Why* can't she be like that? She's supposed to be strong, isn't she? Brave? A queen bitch through and through? So why can't she just not care?

But she does. She really does care.

Much though she wishes she didn't right now, wishes she didn't feel so damn self-conscious about being here with a new girlfriend in front of both an ex-boyfriend and a man who not only used to have - ugh - feelings for her, but *also* used to go out with her girlfriend.

She really couldn't make this kind of crap up.

Not for the first time, Gail rolls her eyes at how... how... *incestuous* it all is. And it's not like the four of them are the worst offenders out of Fifteenth Division, either.

Anyway. Drinks.

Somehow squirming out from between Chloe and the bar, she commands a bartender's attention by the simple expedient of stepping right in front of one and giving her order in a loud, clear voice. She has to cut in front of someone else, and stare them down when they try to protest, but that's an added bonus as far as she's concerned.

It's good to remind herself who she is once in a while.

Chloe stays quiet through all of this, and Gail starts to let herself hope that she's going to behave herself for the rest of the evening.

Really, she should know better.

Chloe waits until the drinks have been loaded onto a tray and the two of them are starting to make their way back to their table.

"It's alright," she says, quietly. "I know it's hard for you. Especially after..."

She doesn't finish the sentence, but she doesn't need to. Gail knows exactly what she was going to say.

Especially after what happened with Holly.

And suddenly, suddenly Gail is *furious*. Because Chloe is giving her a graceful way out, and graceful is for wimps and cowards and Gail Goddamned Peck is *neither* of those.

Without warning, she picks up the pace, striding through the crowd of people like they're just going to step aside if they know what's good for them. When she gets to their table, she slams the tray down hard enough to rattle the drinks on it, making Dov and Chris look up like startled rabbits.

Good. Let them look. She doesn't care anymore.

Turning on her heel, she takes Chloe by the hand and pulls her in close, dipping her backwards in a move that owes absolutely nothing to a DVD of Dirty Dancing that may or may not be hidden under a pile of action movies in her room. Pausing briefly to enjoy the look on Chloe's face, Gail smiles darkly and then kisses her.

Thoroughly.

She claims Chloe's mouth with her own, relishing the way she gasps and shivers, the way she almost moans when Gail slips her tongue inside.

When Gail finally lets Chloe up, they're both a little breathless.

"I think that answers your question," Gail murmurs, and if she sounds a little self-satisfied, well, she has good reason. She's feeling pretty damn good right now.

Except there's something nagging at her, something that she should be noticing right now, something that she should realise...

And then it hits her.

The noise. The people talking, glasses clinking and all the rest of it. It's all just... stopped. It's so silent in here that you could hear a pin drop.

Cautiously, she looks around, and all her worst fears are realised. Every eye on the place is focused on her and Chloe.

Including Dov and Chris.

Oh.

Well, *fine*.

Pulling Chloe in close, Gail glowers around the pub, her gaze lingering on the boys.

"Yes?" she says, the warning note in her voice just *daring* someone to come on and make her day.

The silence lasts a moment longer, and then someone - Chris? - starts applauding. The sound spreads like wildfire, until everyone in the pub is clapping enthusiastically.

Even Dov.

And a knot of tension in Gail's chest starts to relax.

Maybe she can do this after all.

"What, you've never seen a kiss before?" she says. She's aiming for sardonic, but it comes out sounding distinctly... cheerful.

And, for some reason, she can't seem to stop grinning.

Chloe's particular brand of insanity is obviously catching.

The applause dies down as people start to return to whatever they were doing before the impromptu floor show. Perhaps the lingering echoes of it are why Gail pulls out Chloe's chair for her.

Chloe shoots her an amused glance and murmurs: "So gallant. You could spoil a girl if you're not careful."

"Yeah, well," Gail mutters, taking her own seat. And pointedly kicking Chris' foot until - with an exaggerated "Ow" and a wounded glance - he moves it out of her way.

Wimp.

She didn't kick him *that* hard.

Chloe scooches her chair around so she snag Gail's hand. Gail shoots her a Look, which is about as effective as it ever is on her, but doesn't bother to protest. She's feeling magnanimous at the moment.

Besides, after that kiss, what's a little public hand-holding?

"So." Gail says, looking at Dov and Chris in turn. "What did we miss?"

Dov snorts.

"Compared to that display? Absolutely nothing at all. But if you and Chloe can keep it in your pants, you can have the honour of me thrashing you at pub trivia again."

Gail gives Dov a searching look, but she can see nothing in his expression but amusement. No bitterness or resentment over the fact that the woman he once fancied just made out with his ex-girlfriend in front of him and the whole damn pub.

"Yeah, right," she says, and if her tone isn't quite as acid as it might have been, that's obviously just the afterglow from the kiss. "You know Chloe's going to kick your ass."

"Damn right, Sweetie," says Chloe, flashing her dimples in Gail's direction.

"Someone pass the insulin," Chris calls out, pulling a face. "I think I'm going into sugar shock."

But he's smiling like he doesn't really mean it, so Gail contents herself with throwing a half-hearted glare in his direction before turning back to Dov.

"Are we going to do this thing or what?"

And as their banter starts in earnest, adding their bit to the ebb and flow of sound, Gail finds herself catching Chloe's gaze every now and then and just... smiling. For no reason.

Yep, it's definitely insanity, and it's definitely catching.

And Gail is surprisingly okay with that.