Chapter 20: Power of Two

Author's Note: There are things to be dealt with now.

Science was great. You could put the right formulas in and there were answers, solutions. You never had to speculate on their meaning, unless you were a cop like Gail, you just had to process evidence and study bodies and report the findings. And damn it all, Holly loved that about science. Working backwards to figure out that someone had lived in another country based on the density of their bones was, as Gail would say, the shit she lived for.

The fluffy 'science' of psychiatry was not Holly's cup of tea.

If she'd have her way, her brain would cheerfully accept the fact that Gail had a high stakes, high risk job, and move on. Her brain had other plans, like waking up and freaking out when Gail wasn't in bed. Which wasn't uncommon, even when Gail was spending the night. She caught herself listening to the reports from dispatch more often, straining to hear if anything was happening at 15. And she was afraid to touch Gail half the time.

Which is why she agreed with Gail, and ended up going to talk to a therapist. She was entirely annoyed with the necessity, and after a weekly visit for a month, entirely displeased with the current results. There weren't answers for any of the problems in her head, just more questions and poking at them to talk about them. It was like inviting the worlds neediest girlfriend into your life, and having them badger you for an hour.

It wasn't helping much that Gail didn't come over on nights when Holly had talked to the therapist either. Initially, Holly had been surprised that Gail didn't want to have dinner after her session. "You won't want to," Gail had said both knowingly and cryptically. And that first time, she was annoyingly correct. Holly's head had felt full and confused and talking to Gail, or even looking at her, was painful to contemplate.

That wasn't how she felt right now, and as soon as she pulled into her garage, she yanked her phone out to call Gail. "You suck," she informed her girlfriend, not giving Gail a chance to say hello.

"Ooookay," drawled Gail. There was a muffled sound, Gail talking to someone else, and then a door closed. "What did I do?"

"You and your stupid therapy idea. This is stupid. It sucks, and I hate it and it's not doing me any good. I still hate you getting hurt, and I'm still worried about you."

Gail sounded amused, "Baby, I really don't think that is gonna change."

"Then why am I going," wailed Holly, throwing her fridge door open. She stared at the take out boxes which had not been there that morning. "And why do I have food in my fridge. Were you over?"

"Yeah, I picked up your usual 'I am grumpy' order from the Chinese place."

"I'm not grumpy! I'm pissed off at wasting my time and money." She put an assortment of the take out on to a plate. "Four weeks. Four hours, where I sit in a room and she doesn't even ask me questions half the time!" Holly slammed the microwave door and stabbed the reheat button hard enough to make her finger hurt. "I mean, she doesn't even ask me why I'm worried about you in the first place! Or why it scares me. Which, no thanks to her, I figured out was because I'm in love with you and I don't want to lose you. Duh, thanks a lot." Holly huffed and looked at her finger. In the silence, she realized Gail hadn't spoken for a while. "You're very quiet."

"I was waiting for you to finish." Gail sounded exceptionally polite. "You didn't say that before, you know."

Holly paused and tried to think about what she just said. "Say what?" More than once, Gail had repeated, word for word, something Holly had said. It was creepy, and Holly asked her not to do it anymore. Especially if they were fighting.

"You said you're in love with me and didn't want to lose me."

"What? I never said that before?"

"Nope." Gail popped the P in nope.

Holly frowned and took her food out of the microwave. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Sometimes," allowed Gail. "But, y'know, I'm all fuzzy inside now. It's nice."

That was a strange thing to contemplate. "Do I not say I love you?"

"You do."

Which meant the other part, about not wanting to lose Gail, had been unsaid. Holly stared at her dinner, confused, and thought back over the day. "I've always thought that. I hated it the first time. I don't want you to be just ... Gone." So why had she not said it before? "Oh. Shit."

"Hm?"

"Son of a bitch, that goddamned therapist!" Holly groaned and covered her face. All this time she'd just not been willing to say that out loud? "Am I an idiot?" How stupid did you have to be to not know that you were afraid of losing someone to the point that you couldn't say it. "Why is just saying this making me feel better?"

There was a laugh on the phone, "Did I tell you about the dinner with my family? The one you were gonna come to?"

"You ... No." Holly knew that sometimes Gail would go on a tangent that didn't feel at all related, but would loop back around.

"Steve and I went, solo, and it was epically horrible. Every way you could imagine. And my mother said that now that I broke up with you, she had a nice young man I should meet."

Holly scowled. "I'm mad at her right now. Is that okay?"

"Join the club. I'm President, Steve's the Treasurer." Gail chuckled. "So I told her that I was a lesbian."

Out of nowhere, Holly felt better. She smiled and felt her face warm up. "At dinner?"

"Yep. I said I was a lesbian and asked Steve to pass the salt."

Holly giggled. "What did Steve do?"

"Passed the salt, duh. But. That was the first time I said I was a lesbian to them, out loud. And it felt good. Like everything was going to be easier. I didn't care who knew I was into women, I mean, it was kind of obvious, right? But saying it changed how freaked I was about it."

Which was why Holly was feeling better. "How come you're smart about this?"

"I have a lot more issues, baby. You should eat dinner before you have to re-reheat it."

Holly sighed. The daunting realization that Gail was getting smart about dealing with her shit simply because she had that much to deal with was depressing. "Will you come over?"

There was hesitation on the phone. "You sure?"

"I think... I want to see you. I don't want to talk about everything, but I want to hug you." She paused and felt herself blushing. "I don't want to be alone right now."

After a moment, Gail exhaled and replied in the best way. "Okay. I'll be right over."

"I'm not used to you being happy," Chloe told her at the Penny.

"I'm not used to drinking with someone with that shitty a dye job, but there's a first for everything," remarked Gail, sipping her beer.

Per usual, Chloe did not rise to the bait. "And the beer. You don't drink hard stuff as much."

Gail put the pint glass down. "Is there a reason for all this, Chloe?"

The smaller woman smiled and shrugged. "I was thinking ... Dov actually talking to me, making up. That was you."

It was, but Gail was loathe to admit it. "Yeah, right. Because I want to hear the Dork Kingdom banging in the next room over." Truth was, she did. The alternative was to listen to Dov lament about his relationship, and in a house with a recovering addict and a broken heart (at the time at least), fixing one thing felt a hell of a lot better.

"You like me."

"No, I don't," snarled Gail. "I tolerate you."

There was no reply to that, as their order of mini burgers showed up. After a whole day riding with Gerald, Gail would actually rather hang out with Chloe. Since Chris, Dov and Holly were working, at least hanging out with Chloe seemed better than being alone.

It had not taken long for Gail to really hate an empty house. Once in a while it was alright, but actually being alone for a whole night hadn't ended well recently. Things came and went of their own volition, without any regard for Gail's wishes. This time of year was turning out to be tense and frustrating, though. The weather had fooled her, being colder than normal, and she wouldn't have thought about it, but Oliver had asked if she wanted the day off in such a weird way she'd had to think what he meant.

Dates were not Gail's forte. She rarely remembered the date of anyone's birthday, and she constantly forgot the date that Nick's parents died (even though she had good cause to remember that). If Steve hadn't programmed them into her phone, she'd forget her own parents birthdays and their anniversary.

When she and Holly started getting serious, Gail warned her. Holly wisely took a page from Steve's book and programmed her birthday into Gail's phone, but not their anniversary. After all, how did you count a relationship that started at a crime scene and just fell into something more.

But. Today was a day she didn't want to remember, and everyone else did. Today was a day she could have cheerful blocked out for eternity.

"Why did you stop drinking?"

Jesus. Chloe. "Because I have to drive home."

Lie. Because drunk and remembering Perik led to vomiting.

Chloe split the fries, putting ketchup on a bread plate. "How come you're not scared?"

"What?" Gail stared at the woman, absolutely lost.

The vinegar was passed over for Gail to doctor her fries. "Scared. Sometimes, when I hear a gunshot, I freak out. I think ... Maybe it's going to happen again." Chloe touched her neck. "And stupid Wes left the blood clot, which could still kill me, thank you. And I think every day that I could die."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "And you're telling me this because..."

"Because something happened to you," whispered Chloe. "I didn't know... I didn't see it before. But it's like, now that I've seen death, which I know is such a trope, right? But now that I've seen it, I can see it in people. Like Oliver."

"It's a different club," Gail muttered and ate a fry.

"What-"

"No," growled Gail. "No, just... No. Ask Dov, shit, ask Andy or Traci. I don't care, but I'm not talking about it." And of all things, Chloe backed off, apologizing. Everyone knew anyway, but she wasn't going to tell Chloe when she could barely tell Holly.

The thing was that it sucked. Literally. It sucked the air out of her lungs, preventing her from talking about things. It sucked her courage away. It sucked her self-confidence. So she put up more walls, cared less, and hunkered in cynicism. They ate the fries in silence, Chloe volunteering to get the next round, and when she came back with beer for both of them, Gail cleared her throat.

"I'm a cop," she told Chloe. "I go out and protect people who have no idea what the hell is out there. I'm Buffy. I stop things from being worse, I catch losers doing stupid things. So ... No matter how scared I am, no matter how much I don't want to do it, I have to do this. I have to put my vest on and go out there because there isn't another choice for me."

The words sat there between them. Chloe's eyes were wider than normal and she nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you," she whispered.

Instead of going straight home, Gail offered to drive Chloe to her place. Anything to defer the possibility of nightmares. She almost accepted Chloe's offer to come in and hang. Desperate much? What she wanted really was to be asleep, preferably with Holly near her. Holly wasn't home tonight, Holly was working overtime, on some sort of punishment gig after her re-hiring.

So she lied to Chloe, said she was just going home to crash, and drove. And drove. It was like going on patrol, only she drove by her friends' places. The lights were off at Sam's but on at Andy's, implying god knows what. Nick's living room lights were on and the flashing colors indicated he was watching TV. Or sleeping with the TV on. Sometimes he did that too.

Nick should have been the person to talk to. He should have been the one who understood any of it. But he didn't and he wasn't and he couldn't. He understood pain, but not when it was you. Nick was the guy who understood loss, not horror. Nick was the guy who lost everything, always, and forever.

For a very long time, Gail felt the same way. That maybe he and she were meant for each other because everyone else left them. Even after Nick left her, twice. She took him back because he did, eventually, come back. And yet it was never right. She was always going to break his heart because he wouldn't give her his.

Oliver, also, she couldn't talk to. He was home and clearly with Celery, as the lights and sounds from that apartment were friendly and welcoming. Celery would let her in, no doubt, just to hang out, and Oliver had texted her earlier, asking how she was. Gail had lied, said she was fine, and ignored the question.

She didn't drive out to the PeckMansion. She couldn't do that, since they'd see her car, know something was up, and berate her for not getting over it. Two years, she should be over it, right? Gail know she'd never be over it, but she may one day be able to better cope with it. She did check on Steve, in his shitty apartment, and then Traci and her mother. Frank and Noelle. She'd have called Sophie if it wasn't such a shitty hour.

Knowing that Holly was at work didn't change the need she had to just go to her house, though. Gail drove to Holly's, letting herself in through the garage. She turned off the car and texted Holly, knowing she wasn't going to get an answer.

Are you stuck at work?

Surprisingly, she got a text back in moments.

Till god knows when.

I'm at your place. Is that okay?

Honey, you can always be there.

Gail wasn't sure if it would be harder to easier to be at someone else's that night. She checked Holly's front door, the security system, and then the whole house. That night, Nick hadn't replied at all. Not to the calls or texts. But Holly did. She replied right away when Gail texted, even though she was busy.

Sitting on the couch, Gail tried to convince herself that being home alone was okay and safe and normal, but it wasn't working. She tried watching television, but every sound started to get to her, make her twitch.

Damn it. Chloe had to ask, didn't she? Oliver had to care, didn't he? She could have just forgotten the damn date and moved on with her life.

What did normal people do in these moments?

Gail looked at her phone and picked it up. The last time she'd tried this, he never answered. She pressed the call button and swallowed. It was answered.

"Hey, honey, I'm sorry, it's going to be a long night-"

Closing her eyes, Gail cut into the apology, "Can you please come home?" She couldn't say more, the words made her throat thick, and she hated, despised, the desperation she felt. At the same time, she prayed that Holly would hear it in her voice.

There was a pause, an infinitesimal pause, before Holly replied. "Yes."

Whispering a thank you, Gail hung up and hugged her knees. She hated this. She hated feeling this way. Needy. Scared. Alone. It didn't feel like a panic attack, Gail knew that very well. The empty feeling of isolation crept in and Gail concentrated on her breathing. In and out.

That's how she was when the garage door went up and Holly came inside. She knew it was Holly the same way she knew when her brother was there. "Hey," breathed Gail, resting her face on her knees.

"Hey." Holly sat next to her, not touching her.

Gail's voice was a whisper. "I forgot what today was." She saw Holly's perplexed expression, "Oliver kept trying to get me to go home. Andy was really weird. And ... I just forgot."

Exhaling, Holly moved, hesitating as if she wanted to hug her. The back part of Gail's brain realized that tomorrow was the anniversary of Jerry's death, which she ought to warn Steve about if he hadn't already known. He may not have. Traci had the week off.

"I don't know what to do," admitted Holly, at length.

Really, Gail didn't know either. "Last year, I got so drunk I threw up."

"Hm. Let's not."

Slowly, Gail lifted her head up. "I just... I needed to be with you." She held a hand out to Holly.

When her hand was grasped, squeezed, Gail felt the tension start to slide away a little. "Can you ... Come here?" Holly's voice was soft, and Gail nodded, scooting until she was wrapped in Holly's arms. That was better.

"This isn't how I communicate," she told Holly, letting go of her own knees.

The arms were soft and comforting though. "I know," Holly laughed. It wasn't a funny laugh, it was a laugh that just expressed emotions Holly couldn't put into words. She'd laughed like that during sex and the first time it had surprised Gail. Now she understood. Holly could share joy, humor, nerves, fear, or just everything with that laugh.

Uncurling her legs, Gail settled against Holly, listening to her breathing and her heart. "Sometimes... A lot of the time I'm okay alone," she said into Holly's shoulder. As Holly's hand stroked her hair, she relaxed a little more. "Thank you for coming back."

"You only have to ask, honey," whispered Holly, holding her close.

It was an answer to a question Gail hadn't realized she'd been asking her whole life. The obvious questions she'd given up on years ago. Why wasn't she the one? Why wasn't she special enough? Why did everyone else get happiness and not her? But this was different. This was a answer of what life was supposed to be.

This was love and peace. Comfort. All the things she'd craved from Nick, the strength that he'd been afraid of giving her or was unable to, they were here. All the things she'd loved about Chris, his caring nature and the undeniable comfort, they were here. It was all here, in Holly, in her arms and her heart.

She closed her eyes tightly and pressed her face into Holly's shoulder. This was a new world, and a new feeling and ... New everything. It was new. And it wasn't terrifying. It was right.

The night shift was a strange idea. Many people excelled at it, but Holly was a morning person, and had hated it. Gail just hated getting out of bed, regardless the hour, so it didn't make too much of a dent in her attitude. But a week of only seeing each other in passing was already surprisingly painful after two days.

Perhaps the upside was Gail usually got three days off afterwards, which meant one day sleeping to get her mind back to 'normal' hours and then two days where they could spend together, like a normal couple. Normal.

Her relationship with Gail was anything but normal. Holly smiled, folding away the last of the clothes Gail had left over. Tempestuous, strange, wonderful. The way Gail's childishness still shone through the odd, newfound maturity was a delight. At first Holly worried that the bratty, sassy woman she'd fallen for was going away, but in their short time apart, Gail grew up without losing herself.

And damned if it wasn't sexy. A woman like that, who was always confident, sarcastic, and yes, bitter and jaded, was attractive. It was mostly the confidence, to be honest. Gail threw herself at things she wanted with a reckless abandon, certain that it would be something. Except... Not people. How many times had she been discarded to grow that wary of people?

The phone rang, startling Holly, and she smiled to see Gail's face on the screen. "Hey, I was just thinking about you."

"Oooh, sexy thoughts?" Gail's tone was light and breezy.

"Depends on who you're with and if I'm on speaker."

"Duncan, ew, no. I just wanted to tell you I love you before I go patrol the city streets for losers and failures."

Holly blushed. "What time do you get off shift?"

"Six, same as usual. Why?"

"I don't have to be at work till eight. We could have dinner."

Gail snorted. "You mean we could screw before you go to work, and I can sleep like the dead in your house?"

"It'll be quieter." Holly had no guilty feelings about her intention. But the sex, which was great, was only part of it. She wanted to keep tabs on Gail's emotional temperature, as it was.

"At seven AM, everything's about the same, Holly," laughed Gail. "How about this, call me when you get up, and maybe we can have breakfast."

"I don't like the maybe part of your equation, honey, but I'll take it."

"Good, go to sleep. I love you."

The casualness of that comment, the ease of it, made Holly blush. "Love you too, honey. Night."

Hanging up, Holly smiled at the phone. Love. That was a wonderful feeling. That was something missing in her other relationships. Not that Holly was all that great at dating to begin with. Falling for unavailable people was her forte. Even Gail counted as that in the beginning, but she was so damn magnetic.

Getting the second chance made things worthwhile. It made the drama of the breakup and the move that wasn't all seem like those Herculean trials one had to face in order to prove worth. It was ... It was simple.

Of course, better would be Gail not having insane hours and weird shift changes, because that night began the week of her girlfriend being a phone. There were three calls a day. Holly called when she woke up, usually catching Gail right at the end of shift when she was stuck finishing paperwork. Then Gail would call when she woke up around six at night. The third call was before Holly went to sleep, a call from Gail to tell her where she was, who she was with, and that she loved her.

Gail always told her she loved her before going on patrol now.

Sunday was Gail's last night on shift, and Holly had made sure to free up Tuesday and Wednesday for it. She even worked the weekend, picking up an extra shift, just to be sure she'd have no arguments from her boss. The current medical director of the lab was not her fan, and since most forensic pathologists reported up that chain, Holly was stuck with a boss whom she didn't care for, and who wasn't always too forgiving about her wanting time off.

Come Monday evening, Holly realized how little she cared about that. She came home to a second car in her garage, a note on the kitchen with a list of dinner choices, and a note reading 'for gods sake, wake me up when you get here, I want to see your unpixelated face.' It was romantic, for Gail at least. Romantic to Holly certainly. Picking the first dinner suggestion on the list, Holly ordered in Thai food.

She left her bag downstairs and rushed up to the bedroom, where Gail was curled up making a cocoon of all the blankets. Holly grinned and kicked off her shoes before kneeling onto the bed to kiss Gail. She was not surprised when a hand wormed out of the covers to pull her into a half hug, half cuddle. "Honey, I smell like death."

"Don't care." Gail's voice was muffled by the blankets and Holly let herself be pulled into the embrace. It lasted a moment before one baleful blue eye peered out from the nest. "Jesus, you reek. What the hell?"

"Long day," sighed Holly. "I'm going to shower. Dinner will be here in half an hour."

Pouting, Gail let go and rolled away, somehow managing to straighten out the blankets as she did. "What time do you have to be at work?"

Holly smiled and headed to the bathroom, "Thursday. Eight AM."

The look of sheer delight on Gail's face made the weekend and Monday all worthwhile.

This is the end of the second story arc. They're back, they're working through more shit, but they're Golly. The next arc in the series will get more into Gail's family, Sophie, dangling plot threads, and relationships. Don't worry, Holly will work through her shit. And then we give her and Gail more shit.

Remember, part three is already written! It's 10 chapters and is called "It's Not a Choice" and ... well. Anyway. Short break. Re-reading the whole 100 pages again for me, then I'll start posting it. In the meantime check me out at chapsticklez dot wordpress dot com for all the fun 'behind the scenes' rambling 500 word author notes.