Okay, so I'm having trouble with my follow-up to the finale (mostly because I spent a large part of the 2 hours wanting to throw something at my TV) but this story is still on track. And a good portion of the credit for that goes to you, the readers, for the reviews and support. It's hard to write for something when the show is being so discouraging (especially if there's a year's hiatus without resolution) but I'll muddle through for you guys ;)

This picks up (again) right where the last chapter left off.

Don't own the show or the characters; would say something derogatory about TPTB but I was raised better lol


They made small talk until they got to Traci's place where they bid Andy good night then headed for home. Gail caught Chris sneaking peeks at her out of the corner of his eye and the guilt she'd been suppressing all night surfaced with a vengeance.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Chris asked finally, giving her a chance to come clean.

"What do you mean?" Gail hedged, pulling his hand into her lap and entwining their fingers.

Chris saw right through her attempt to distract him. She thought she was unreadable but she never could hide it when she was nervous. Cover it up with false bravado, maybe, but not hide it. "Dov told you, didn't he?"

Tamping down a sudden wave of panic Gail deadpanned, "Told me what?" She wouldn't put it past him to be trying to get her to incriminate herself. They were cops, after all – it's what they did…

"Don't play dumb..." Chris knew everyone took his tendency to avoid confrontation to mean he was clueless and thus easy to deceive; he hated that she knew better and was still trying. "I saw you sitting outside The Penny…"

Cracking an eye open Dov saw Gail subconsciously bite her bottom lip, the way she did when she was thinking. He would speak up to take the focus off her but didn't think she'd appreciate the gesture.

Gail tried to figure out what Chris might have seen that would have him so suspicious but couldn't come up with anything. "I told you…"

"I'm not stupid, Gail!" he interrupted, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. "You think I don't see the way he looks at you? Or how he has to look away when we're close?" Chris let out a harsh laugh. "He was standing on a bomb for God's sake and he was worried about you!"

She wanted to ask what he was talking about but refrained; wanted to glance back at Dov but refrained. For a word that normally wasn't even part of her vocabulary she'd been doing a whole hell of a lot of it lately.

Dov couldn't just lay back and let her take it anymore so he struggled to sit up. "Leave her alone, man. It's not her fault."

Once she got past the initial surprise of him being awake Gail spat, "Dov, shut up! I can defend myself…" It wasn't her Chris was mad at. Not really. Not yet, anyway.

Nope – no appreciation there.

"What do you have to defend against, Gail?" Chris grabbed onto her words. "Did you do something?"

"Chris, no!" she replied vehemently. Truthfully. Except it was precisely what she hadn't done that was eating away at her like acid. She hadn't stopped Dov's babbling, not even when she'd figured out what he was babbling about. She hadn't stopped him from taking her hand oh-so-gently in his, hadn't stopped him from pressing his lips to her wrist like she was the most precious thing in the world. And most importantly she hadn't told him that it wouldn't (couldn't) happen. She hadn't done any of those things, and she wouldn't stop long enough to think about why because she was pretty sure she wouldn't like the answer. "We didn't kiss if that's what you're implying…"

Dov would have backed her up but knew she wanted to deal with it her way. Big surprise, there. They might as well have been talking about the transient on the corner for all he was being included in the conversation.

After a lengthy pause (during which he decided he didn't want the details) Chris asked her, "Were you going to tell me?"

"I don't know." She hadn't thought that far ahead, hadn't thought beyond making it through the night. But she couldn't deny that she'd been avoiding telling him, either. "Probably not," she allowed.

Chris took a deep breath, his hands tightening around the wheel. "Why not?"

Lots of reasons, at least one of which she didn't really want to acknowledge. "Because I didn't want to make things worse, okay?"

Turning to her Chris scoffed, "Is it bad, Gail? Really? 'Cause you're being pretty damn understanding about it considering you usually have the patience of a gnat!"

Gail knew he had every right to be upset but how out-of-character he was being put her on edge. "What do you want me to do, Chris?" she bit back, trying to put him on the defensive. "We have to live together for Christ's sake!"

Ouch. Dov could've done without that particular blow to his ego.

What Chris wanted was for her to tell him it was all one-sided, that he had no reason to feel like he was gonna lose her to his best friend. But apparently she wasn't going to. Parking her car next to his S.U.V. he shut off the ignition and turned to her. "Get out of the car."

The tightness of his voice made her nervous. "No. Chris…"

"Get out of the car, Gail," he repeated evenly.

Gail shifted her gaze to Dov, who just nodded at her. "Don't do anything stupid," she told them before getting out of the car. Leaning up against it she pulled her jacket tighter around herself and tried not to cry.

As soon as the door closed behind her Dov tried, "Look, man, don't blame her; she doesn't even…"

"Don't." He didn't need Dov telling him how Gail felt. "I can't believe you'd betray me like this, man." He could deal with his best friend secretly having feelings for his girlfriend – he didn't like it but he understood it and could deal with it. What he couldn't deal with was his best friend acting on those feelings. "I don't care if it's because of the pills – you crossed a line that can't be uncrossed."

Dov had no excuse. "I know."

Deflated, Chris sat back in his seat to stare out into the shadows. Maybe he'd be dealing better if it weren't on top of the Samuels thing. Maybe he'd be dealing better if he wasn't so worried Gail felt the same. "This isn't over."

"I know." Dov was well aware that the only thing keeping him from getting his ass kicked was that he was already injured. That, and maybe Gail. Except when he was all better she'd probably be next in line to do it. First even.

"You're okay to walk?" Chris verified without turning around.

It was more statement than question, and Dov took it as a warning to not let Gail help him. "Yeah."

Gail sighed in relief when they got out of the car intact but didn't say anything. They made their way to the apartment in terribly awkward silence, Dov going straight to his room and her throwing her jacket on the chair before going into the kitchen with Chris on her heels.

Chris watched her, arms crossed, while she pulled food from the fridge, marvelling at what a difference a few hours could make. He'd been so anxious to see her, needed so badly to hold her after the day he'd had; wanted to tell her about the Samuels thing so she could tell him he'd made the right decision, that he should do whatever he had to do to protect himself and to hell with everyone else. But now he wasn't even sure he could trust her. And it killed him.

"Did you eat?" Gail asked him, more for something to say than because she thought he was hungry.

"Yeah."

That went well. Finishing up best she could under the scrutiny she turned around and held one of the plates out to him.

Chris' brow furrowed. "What's this for?" Had he misunderstood the question?

"Well, I'm assuming you don't want me bringing it to him…" When he reached out to take it Gail pulled back. "Can I trust you not to suffocate him with his own pillow?" Her tone was teasing but there was a part of her that thought he might be tempted.

Dov came out of his bedroom in sweats and a t-shirt, the eerie quiet making him feel the need to check on her. He found Chris staring at her blankly, her at him expectantly, and he stepped in to break the deadlock. In his own way. "So no Spaceballs, then?"

"Jesus Christ, Dov," Gail sighed. She was considering muzzling him when Chris turned around and punched him right in the face. "Chris!"

"No – it's okay…" Dov muttered from the floor where he'd landed. Not only did he deserve it but it had the intended effect of taking Chris' attention off of her. Thank God for the pills, though, 'cause he was pretty sure his nose was broken…

Gail turned to Chris with a disapproving eyebrow. "Feel better?"

No, he didn't feel better. His best friend was on the ground with a bloody nose and his girlfriend was looking at him like she didn't recognize him. At the moment Chris didn't even recognize himself. Without a word he started to walk out.

"Leave the car keys, Chris." She wouldn't stop him from leaving, he needed time to cool down, but she wouldn't have him putting anyone's life at risk (especially his own) by driving angry. Not when he'd also had a few drinks.

Silly him for thinking she'd tell him to stay. Or choose to go with him.

Staring him down Gail repeated, "Keys, Chris."

Chris pulled the keys from his pocket and walked back to slam them on the table. Giving her a mocking salute he left.

Gail ran a hand through her hair as the front door slammed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Besides the fact that his nose had become a leaky rusty faucet? "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"You're such an idiot," she reprimanded half-heartedly. "Chris would never hurt me..." He wasn't capable of it. Well, he was capable of it; he just wasn't capable of it.

Dov didn't think so either but he hadn't been willing to take the chance. Using the couch for leverage he managed to stand up.

Gail went into the kitchen and leaned over the counter to take to a calming breath. "Go to bed, Dov."

He stared at her back for a second more before heading to his room, stopping on the way to get a wad of toilet paper for his owie. He was just settling into his bed when she surprised him by coming in with her hands full. Without knocking.

"Here," she said shortly, offering him one of his pills and the glass of water. When he'd swallowed it she took the glass back and handed him the damp cloth and the sandwich.

"Thanks." She wasn't happy with him, he knew; she was doing it because she felt she had to.

"Good night, Dov." She went to leave, then narrowed her eyes when he grabbed her arm. "I'm not kissing you goodnight..."

That hadn't been what he was looking for but now that she'd mentioned it… "I want to say I'm sorry."

Fat lot of good 'sorry' did them. She didn't have the heart to tell him to stuff it, though, with him laying there with the cloth up his nose.

She was just looking down at him, unimpressed, and he felt the need to clarify, "Not for loving you. I will never apologize for that…"

"Dov…" She wouldn't (couldn't) let him know what he was doing to her, but he must have known that he wasn't making anything better.

Dov let his hand slip down her arm to take hers. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position."

Not sorry enough to stop talking about it, apparently. Or to keep his hands to himself. "Dov, eat your sandwich."

She tried to get loose but he held fast, finding the strength somewhere to pull her to sit beside him. "But mostly I'm sorry for today."

"Yeah – I think we covered that." Gail had the fleeting thought that if Chris walked in on this she wouldn't be able to stop him from killing Dov. And she might be proven wrong on that whole 'he would never hurt me' thing…

Dov shook his head, moving their joined hands to rest on his chest where he stared at them, fascinated, while he played with her fingers. "I want to be there for you. I need to be there for you. And today I wasn't. You could have been hurt in that apartment…"

"Dov, it's okay…" She'd been pissed off, angry beyond belief, actually, but it had turned out alright. Which was more than she could say for the rest of it.

"It's not okay…" He looked up finally, into her perfect crystalline eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if you'd…" He trailed off, the possibility too awful to think about much less speak aloud.

The look he was giving her, full of fear and dread, was a painful reminder of how terrified she'd been when he was in that meth lab, not knowing whether or not he'd make it out alive. Putting the glass on his nightstand Gail allowed herself to brush the hair out of his face. "Go to sleep, Dov," she whispered hoarsely, "It'll be better in the morning."

Dov fought valiantly against the heaviness of his eyelids, needing to commit to memory the feel of her fingers running through his hair, absolutely certain it would never happen again.

Once his eyes had fluttered shut Gail stopped her ministrations and reclaimed her other hand from his slack grasp. Going to curl up on the couch she stared into nothingness for what felt like hours, waiting for something to happen, either Chris to come home or Dov to need something. She finally went to bed at around one, alone.

The alarm clock read 2:35 when Chris stumbled into their bed, waking her up with wandering hands and whiskey on his breath. He took her then, rough, hard, without a word; marking her body like he was marking his territory. And she let him. She might even have enjoyed it if she hadn't been able to tell by the look in his eyes that he was in a hell of a lot more pain than he was inflicting.