AN: Let me know what you think.

Chapter Two
Chris

Gail disappears from the apartment, seemingly overnight. Her toothbrush isn't next to his, her shampoo and conditioner and body wash and loufa leave the shower feeling empty and incomplete, and his bed still smells like her perfume but she isn't in it anymore.

Chris doesn't know where he was when it happened, when Gail Peck grabbed all her stuff and booked it the hell out of there, but she's gone now. And Chris isn't sure she's coming back. He almost convinces himself that he doesn't want her to. She let Dov get close to her, she let Dov kiss her, she betrayed him.

But then he rolls over, his arm automatically reaching out to wrap around her and pull her closer, the smell of her clinging to his sheets where she used to be but isn't anymore, and he wants her back. He wants her back so badly he can barely breathe.

Dov makes him breakfast. Every day. Dov isn't exactly Master Chef, so it's mostly scrambled eggs and toast, but he makes him breakfast. It's a silent apology, and Chris thinks he gives a tacit acceptance every time he stuffs the food into his mouth. But he can't bring himself to hear the words yet, the "I'm so sorry" waiting on the tip of Dov's tongue, the "I forgive you" hovering at the back of his own throat.

He doesn't forgive Dov. Not yet. He can't. He's had two girlfriends in his whole life, and Gail is the only one he's ever lived with. He didn't feel the same way about Denise, when he'd been dating her, as he does about Gail. He moved away from Denise, and he hadn't missed her the way he misses Gail right now, like everything is all wrong because she isn't there. His whole life feels...less. A shadow of what it could be, what it should be, because Gail Peck isn't sleeping in his bed anymore or stealing food off his plate or playing noisy video games with Dov in the living room or...anything. Because Gail Peck isn't here, and he thinks he might need her to be.

At some point, they put it together. Well, Dov puts it together and then tells Chris about it, faltering with his words like he's not sure he's allowed to talk about this.

"Do you know...do you know where, um, where Gail's staying at?"

Something inside Chris tightens up painfully, because the answer should be here but it isn't. Because he doesn't know. Because he doesn't want to think about Dov swooping in and stealing her away, even though Gail isn't the type of girl to give much of damn about swooping and would kick the ass of anyone stupid enough to imply that she could be stolen in any way.

He shakes his head, mute. He doesn't know how to talk about this, isn't sure he wants to. If this is a prelude to Dov asking for his blessing-if Dov thinks Chris is in a good enough place to grant it-he doesn't want to know about it because he so very much isn't.

"I think...I mean...she isn't here, right? And she doesn't really have a bunch of friends at 15. And she wouldn't let her family, I mean, you know how she is about her family...she wouldn't let them see her, I don't know, be defeated." A flinch at the last word, and Chris feels one rip through him at the same time. Is that what they did? With their stupid, reckless emotions? Did they defeat Gail Peck? "So, um, I think she might be living in her car right now, and that's, that's, that's...it's just not okay, okay?"

No. No, that is not okay. His chest tightens up again, and he thinks his hands might have clenched into fists, and there's a chance he might actually hurl all over the living room floor. How could he not have thought about that? While he was lying in his suddenly too big bed during nights that were too long and too quiet? Why wasn't he wondering where she was, if she wasn't with him? Why hadn't he been paying attention?

"She has to come back." Chris has never been more certain of anything in his entire life. Gail cannot live in her car. It's unacceptable. He may be mad at her right now, but he's mad at Dov too, and he didn't kick him out. The treasonous part of his brain whispers that he didn't kick her out either, she just left. That Dov is Dov, and that's something completely different and kind of the same.

But he tells it to shut right the hell up, because no. Just no.

Gail, of course, has always had the most unfortunate habit of entering the room at exactly the wrong moment to draw all the worst conclusions. And now, Chris is pretty positive, she thinks he and Dov were making fun of her. Dov gives him a look, then a pointed glance at the "gym bag" Gail is lugging out of the room, and, yeah, he gets it.

"Gail. Gail, wait."

"What?" She's pissed, and Chris is angry for a moment because she kissed his best friend, not the other way around...but.

"Move back in." He meant to make it a question, but it comes off as a statement, a demand. "Please, move back in?"

"Thought you didn't have faith in us?"

Chris winces, and he should have known that was going to come back and bite him the ass. He'd just been so angry. Because it had been Dov. Dov, his best friend. Dov, his roomate. Dov, his...well, his. He would have forgiven her for anyone else, but it had been Dov, and that made it worse somehow.

"I didn't mean that." He hadn't. He's not sure he's ready to forgive her, the same way he's not sure he's ready to forgive Dov, but he wants this work again. He wants to try. "I didn't. I'm sorry I said it. I was just angry. I'm sorry."

Dov is shifting his feet awkwardly, staring at the ground, and Chris can't help but watch him from the corner of his eye. Can't help but notice Gail watching him too.

"I don't want to be in one of those relationships, Chris." And some part of him forgets how to breathe, like she's figured out something he's only starting to realize was there to figure out and telling him no before he even knows what the question is. "I don't want to be the couple who break up every other week and then get back together while the rest of the division places bets on how long it'll last this time."

"We're not like that. We're not. We had a fight, a pretty big one, and we both got mad for different reasons, and then you left..." Chris swallows a little thickly. He's never been ashamed of his emotions, of telling his important people that they are important, but this feels so much bigger than that and he doesn't know why. "But I didn't want you to."

"You sure as hell didn't stop me." The words should be venomous-are venomous, battery acid flung through the air-but Gail is looking at him softly, vulernable in front of him again and probably hating it, and this is why he loves her. These moments right here where she isn't pretending to be a bitch just because it's easier for her than admitting that she's an actual human being with actual human feelings. That she can be hurt.

That he hurt her.

"I kind of wasn't there." Chris points out, tiniest of smiles on his lips. Because this is good. He likes where this is going. "Pretty sure that was on purpose, too."

Gail shrugs, like it doesn't matter, but he sees the smile on her face. Smaller than even his, but definitely there. "What about you, Epstein? Gonna do the awkward, head-down, foot-shuffle for the rest of your dorky life?"

"Gail, you're not fooling anyone; we're fucking friends."

"Maybe. Maybe you're just my boyfriend's lame roommate, who I happen to frequently destroy at DeathDomain while drinking maragaritas."

"When two people drink maragritas out of the same blender, it bonds them for life. No matter hw many humilating defeats I will eventually force you to suffer through."

"Says the kid without a single high score to his name."

Chris realizes, abruptly, that he is grinning like a madman. He doesn't think he should be. He's pretty sure that bantering was one of the contributing factors in Dov's falling in love, and he already knows how that story ends. All three of them miserable and alone and hurting. But he can't help it. This feels...right, somehow. This is the way they're supposed to be. They just need to work out the details of how to make sure they don't fall apart again, that's all.

Chris and Dov move Gail back into the apartment the moment their shift is over. It's surprisingly painless; Gail and Dov bickering exactly the way they used to, Gail's hand cradled in Chris's exactly the way it should be, Chris and Dov exchanging smirking grins at Gail's exasperating behavior. He thinks it should be harder than this, that there's supposed to be more drama, more fighting, more...something.

Maybe that comes later. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe the worst has passed and everything can be okay again. Chris really wants everything to be okay.

Chris wakes up to a face-full of painfully blonde hair and the scent of lavender and strawberries tickling his nose. His arm is drapped over Gail's waist, their fingers interlocked, their legs tangled together. And just like that, like magic, he isn't angry at her anymore. He isn't angry at Dov, either. He isn't angry with anyone ever because this is perfect. And this perfection has no room for his rage.

"Good morning." Chris whispers against her skin, lips brushing her shoulder.

"Mmm...I'm not gettin' up..."

Chris breathes a laugh out and continues kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck. "What about work?"

"I'm sick." Gail coughs weakly as proof.

"Mhmm," Chris starts tracing little patterns on her hip. "I don't believe you."

"Don't care."

"If you let Dov beat you to the shower, he will never ever let you live it down."

Gail is up and out of the bed in a heartbeat. Chris grins, wide and easy, and watches her nearly run out of their bedroom in nothing but her underwear and one of his shirts. Normally, he'd get up and go on a run, but he's slept in too late for that already and he feels a peaceful sort of lethargy.

"Oh, god dammit!" Dov's voice, followed by Gail's mocking laughter and the slamming of a door. The sound of Dov's banging echoes throughout the house. "Come on! I need to pee! At least leave me some hot water? Please? For the love of everything holy and damned, leave me some hot water!"

And, yeah, this absolutely perfect.

It's late-so late that technically it's early-when Chris and Dov come home. They're trying to be quiet because Gail had pulled the day off and was probably already sleeping and no one with a shred of sanity wants to deal with an abruptly and unnecessarily awoken Gail Peck.

Gail is not sleeping. Gail is in the living room watching...is that, no. Is that The Lion King?

"Is that The Lion King?" Dov gives life to Chris's thoughts, and, yes, it is The Lion King. Gail is watching The Lion King.

"If you two morons don't shut up and stop ruining 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight', I will take out my gun and shoot you. If you ever, ever speak of this again, I will shoot you. Am I clear?"

"Ten-four, Officer." Dov snaps off a salute, and Chris can only nod solemnly. The chances of Gail actually shooting them are nonexistent, but she's vindictive enough to do something crushing in retribution. Like tell the whole division about the time he had gotten so seriously drunk that he'd clung to the grass outside the house and cried because he thought he was going to fall off. So much more embarrassing than watching a Disney movie. So, so much more.

"So, sit the fuck down and shut up."

Chris obeys, because he's her boyfriend and it's prety much hardwired into his brain to listen when she tells him to do things. And Dov does too, because she's Gail Peck and, sometimes, it just isn't worth it to piss her off, Chris thinks.

Chris settles down next to her, and Dov plops down next to him. Gail snuggles into his side, and his arm drops around her shoulders as he presses a kiss to her crown. Dov is pressed against his side, and Gail is under his arm, and Simba is falling in love with Nala, and this is good. This is really good.

In the wake of the hellish separation that had rocked their little world, Chris and Dov decide to put aside some guy time. Every other Saturday is offically Boys' Night Out, and they make it a point not to go to The Penny where they might run into Gail-thus ruining the point of guy's night-or some of their other coworkers. Not that they don't like their brothers and sisters in blue, just...This kind of needs to be about them. So they can get over the heinous awkwardness of Dov falling in love with Chris's girlfriend and the miserable drama that had followed.

This particular Saturday, they're bowling. Because drunken bowling is hilarious, and they need more laughter in their lives. The score is terrible, because it's hard to roll anything but gutter balls while intoxicated, but that's not the point so it doesn't matter. What matters is that Dov is laughing, and Chris is laughing, and neither one of them is thinking about how their friendship almost imploded over a girl.

"Dude. I'm switching to the pink ball. I don't even care how it looks. This shit is heavy." Dov whines into Chris's ear, close enough to feel his lips against the skin of it. Chris isn't really sure why it makes him shiver, but he doesn't think he cares, so whatever.

Dov is stumbling around a bit by the time they've finished, lamenting fervently and loudly, about how he can't seem to win anything these days.

"Ses-eriously, Chrisss. Gail ownss me on the cooonsoole, and yooouuu make me look bad at, pff, everrrything elsse. I cannooooot catch a break."

Chris laughs, because-while he's not nearly as wasted as Dov-everything is kind of funny right now, even Dov. Especially Dov. In fact, Dov is so funny that Chris feels the intense need to hug him and inform him of this fact. If he doesn't really let go, if he leaves his arm around Dov's lean shoulders, well, what of it? They're best friends, and it's sort of cold, and it doesn't mean anything weird unless they decide it does. So it doesn't. Yeah.

Dov spends the entire cab ride back home with his head against Chris's shoulder, half asleep and muttering incoherently about being a badass, and Chris can't think of a single reason why he shouldn't leave him be.

Also part of the household effort to not royally fuck this up again, is a whole bunch of togetherness time. They take turns deciding what to do-though, honestly, Gail seems to pick almost twice as often as either Chris or Dov-and then the three of them go out, or stay in, and do it.

This means: DeathDomain tournaments that carry on until the watercolor gray of the early morning. Drinking way too much caffiene, taurine-Chris doesn't even know what the hell hell taurine even is-and alcohol. Gail and Dov drinking margaritas out of the blender while Chris sips at his beer. Gail and Dov getting into semi-serious wrestling matches in a futile attempt at preventing her from completely destroying Dov's pride. Dov and Chris plotting, again futile, schemes to knock her off her game and, again, destroying Dov's pride. Gail doing her victorious dance of surpreme victory after each and every round.

This means: going to the movies and showing up at least an hour early to kill time at the arcade. Buying the biggest tub of popcorn on the menu, usually twice-once while at the arcade and then another for the actual movie-other assorted other candies, and a giant ass drink with free refills to share. Gail and Dov tossing pieces of popcorn at each other across Chris's lap. Chris and Gail putting their hands over Dov's mouth together when he starts rambling about one little thing mid-movie, and Dov licking both of them to make them stop-but only after Chris feels the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile.

This means: having massive movie marathons all night on their couch. Fighting about who has to get up and make more popcorn, or get more drinks for everyone, or turn on the fan when the press of three bodies makes it too hot, or turn if off when one of them gets cold again. It means Chris and Dov arguing about inaccuracies-during any and all comic book hero movies-until Gail tells them to shut up. It means snuggling together until Chris isn't sure where one person ends and another begins and a warm sort of lethagy settles in his chest. Falling asleep smooshed together and waking up all tangled up in each other.

This means: long nights at The Penny where Gail proceeds to drink both Chris and Dov under the table. Too much alcohol and a seemingly never-ending amount of hot wings. Stumbling into a cab together at three in the morning and showing up to work at eight with a splitting headache and a turning stomach and Gail looking at both her roommates saying, "If either of you care about me at all, you will bring me to where the coffee lives." Chris and Dov grinning at each other-and Chris isn't so sure that the feeling in his stomach when those moments happen have anything at all to do with his hangover-and dragging Gail by the hands to the breakroom.

This means: going to the pool. Watching Gail in her little swim suit. Watching Dov in his trunks-Chris isn't sure why he does that; he just does. Splash wars and dunking matches that Chris always seems to initiate because he likes the way Dov's hair gets plastered to his forehead, and he comes up sputtering for air gaping like a fish. Gail reading under an umbrella-because she burns like a lobster in the sun-and laughing at both of them. Watching Dov get to lather her up with sun screen because Chris "always seems to miss a spot and Dov never does". Paying way too much attention to Dov's hands on his girlfriend-in a way that isn't even remotely jealous, just vaguely confusing. Gently proding Gail's spots of sunburn the day after she's let him do it.

This means: hitting Denny's at midnight after their shift and ordering more pancakes, in more varieties, than they should be able to pack away. Stealing bites of blueberry pancake from Dov and buttermilk from Gail while they both pick at his banana pancakes. Smothering their entire order in so much syrup that their pancakes get soggy and awesome. Gail grinning like the Cheshire cat after stealing away with a forkful of Dov's pancakes. Chris pushing his own plate a little closer to Dov after each "theft". Chris running out of coffee in his own mug and taking Dov's right out of his hand because Gail takes hers black with sugar and both of them prefer a little cream in there too.

This means: getting to hang out with his girlfriend and his best in really fun ways a lot. No more awkward tension between the three of them, none that Chris can feel anyways. This means that things are good again. That they've figured it out, and this is how they work, and they are never going to let what happened a few months ago ever happen to them again.

Gail and Dov have an equalvalent to "Boy's Night Out" that's really more like "Peckstein's Night In" in which she brutally demolishes Dov at DeathDomain for hours at a time. Chris thinks it should bug him more, those Saturday nights he spends at The Penny while his girlfriend and his best friend who is in love with her are home alone together. But it really doesn't, other than the buzzing under his skin that reminds him that he'd rather be there with them than here with everyone else.

It surprises him, almost, when he realizes that he trusts them. Not to do that to him again. Even if Dov loves Gail. Without the high, he wouldn't have said anything. Wouldn't have done anything. Chris can trust Gail and trust Dov not to cross the line ever again. They all know the consequences, what it'll cost them. And Chris doesn't think any of them are eager to pay that price.

Chris thinks his date nights with Gail feel sort of...he doesn't know, weird,or something these days. Like they're still awesome, and they still have fun, and when they fall into bed together at the end of the night everything's still amazing...

But he keeps catching himself waiting for Dov to say something, or for his best friend's hands to flail into his line of sight, of for Gail to randomly stick out her tongue at Dov just because she can and it amuses her. And he always says party of three when they go somewhere, only to have to quickly correct himself. And this is date night, wherein he goes on dates with his beautiful and smart and frankly terrifying girlfriend...so why does he keep wishing his best friend was there too?