05.09 - Fite Nite
While Vivian is on forced leave, Andy makes her organize fite nite. This time, since recruitment is low, they have it with the firefighters. Meanwhile, Gail and Traci have to find the source of the drugs.
"I know I've said this before; it's good to be comfortable in silence."
Vivian rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. The unspoken 'but' hung in the air. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say." She plucked at the fabric on the couch. "I'm sleeping okay."
"Vivian." Dr. Marjorie Cooper sighed and took off her glasses. "You killed someone."
"I know," she mumbled at her therapist. "But I just feel ... Kinda empty about it?" Vivian shook her head. "Not empty. Just ... I don't know."
"Which is why you're here," pointed out her therapist.
A psychologist and a therapist. A doctor who had worked with veterans who had PTSD, cops and firefighters. She'd seen Vivian through two breakups, Olivia, a girlfriend who was a firefighter, being shot, and basically everything that had gone on in Vivian's life for the last seven years. Dr. Cooper was a good therapist, and a good person.
And she was totally right, which Vivian knew intellectually.
"Okay," said Vivian slowly. "I'm mad."
"At whom?"
"Keeeeeee—" She stopped. The name was still privileged content, and while Vivian had approval to talk about the case in broad terms, some things were still not allowed. "The guy I shot." Vivian hesitated. "The man I killed."
Marjorie tilted her head. "Does that make it feel different? Saying shot versus killed?"
"I'm not sure," admitted Vivian.
"Alright. Why are you mad?"
There was a lot of editing Vivian had to do. She was pissed because if he was a cop, or a Mountie, then he damn well knew that the situation had to end he way it did. That she couldn't say, but Gail had given her an out. "Because... it was effectively suicide by cop."
"I see. Do you feel used?"
Vivian blinked. "Oh." She hadn't thought of it quite that way. She'd just been mad at someone putting themselves above others. And she had a well known historical hatred of suicide. "I was kind of thinking of my biological father," she admitted.
"Whom you're still mad at."
"Yeah," she muttered and slumped in the seat. "I mean... how fucking selfish do you have to be?"
Making a note, Marjorie took off her glasses. "We've talked about this before," she said gently. "That isn't what all suicides are."
Ugh. Vivian picked at the couch arm again. "But it is. It's giving up and thinking your pain can't be solved, ever, and that it's worth more than someone else's."
"Sometimes it is," agreed Marjorie. "But that isn't always why. It's an irrational desire, at its heart. Like depression."
Which Holly had. "And PTSD." Which Gail had. And technically Vivian too. "I know. And I know I'm irrational about this."
"Okay. So why do people kill themselves?"
As stupid as it felt sometimes, talking through the reasons made Vivian less of an ass about it. It grounded the reasons in her mind. And for herself, someone who still felt absolute hatred and animosity towards the idea of suicide, to a degree that even Vivian knew was unreasonable, it was important to reset. Marjorie had come up the idea that, whenever Vivian was especially antagonistic about the concept, to list the reasons.
"Spite, fear, hate, defiance, confusion, loneliness, self-hatred, chagrin, theatre, desperation, loss of self."
"And which one do you think the young man you killed fell under?"
That was the other part. It wasn't enough to just know, intellectually, why someone killed themselves. Vivian had to learn how to attach her empathy to the situation. And that was something she really struggled with. Which was part of why she was still in therapy.
Ultimately, Vivian's problem was being empathic to others. Not that she didn't feel for other people, but she had a hard time feeling sorry for people who did, what she felt to be, stupid things. Essentially, when people shot themselves in the foot, Vivian didn't feel bad for them. And when people were mean or unkind to others, she filed them away and rarely looked back.
According to Marjorie, the source of her inability to let go of her anger towards her birth family was rooted in that problem. If Vivian could get over her irrational behaviour... well. Her behaviour was just like that of someone who committed suicide. It was a result of a confluence of different and conflicting purposes. People had different concerns at the same time.
It stood to reason that Keith did too. Okay. If she was under deep cover, pretending to be other people, she would be stressed. When she'd done the job, briefly, two years before, Vivian had to do odious, often illegal tasks. Not fun. Not comfortable. Not happy. But the worst part for Keith would have had to be attacking his brothers and sisters in blue.
"Loss of self," she said softly.
In the end, Keith would have been guilty. He would have gone to jail. There was no such thing as a free pass. So he was feeling the weight and guilt and pain of his horrible career path. Loss of self was also hopelessness. The errant belief that there was no future. It was the same reason why her birth father had (probably) done what he'd done.
"It's okay to be mad at them, but not to the exclusion of your own feelings, Vivian," said Marjorie.
"Why do you have to be right?" Grumbling, Vivian leaned her head back and looked up. "I feel a little sick," she finally admitted. "Everyone wants to tell me it wasn't my fault, which it was. And they tell me it's my job. But even if this was my job, I had to pull the trigger and kill someone. I can't take it back. He didn't give us another safe choice. He'd already killed a cop. Another one has to retire. And ... well."
Jules was dead. Todoroki was probably going to take a desk job if he came back. Goff was being quietly retired. But it was four careers ended. And for what?
"It makes me second guess my life," she admitted to her doctor. "Am I doing the right things?"
"Arguably someone else would have made the shot."
"And I'd feel like shit for making them do my job."
Dr. Cooper smiled. "That's because you're a good person. You knew what you were doing and why. You intellectually knew the cost."
"Not the same," pointed out Vivian.
"No. It's not." And Dr. Cooper leaned forward. "Did he know the cost?"
Vivian blinked.
He had to. The same way she knew, in her mind if not her heart, what the costs were, so did Keith. They knew, from the day they swore their oaths. The oath was much the same, from BC to Ontario to the Mounties. They all swore to king and country their loyalty, faithfulness, and promise.
Vivian had read the oath a million times before she'd decided she wanted to be a cop. She'd read it regularly, pondering over the meaning. It wasn't just a promise to do good, not to her, and knowing that it came with a cost of her own self was still difficult to accept. But...
"I solemnly swear," she said softly, "that I will be loyal to His Majesty the King, his Heirs and Successors, and to Canada. I will uphold the Constitution of Canada and that I will, to the best of my ability, preserve the peace, prevent offences and discharge my other duties as a constable of Toronto, faithfully, impartially and according to law."
It didn't help. It didn't make it better or take away the anger she felt at Keith, at the Mounties for placing him where this was his choice, nor at the police for making her do what she'd done. A man died. Keith was dead. She had killed him.
His legacy was her responsibility now.
And she'd have to make sure he didn't die in vain.
Holly eyed the man who had once been engaged to her wife. "You don't think you could be a soldier again?"
Nick shook his head and opened the door from the parking garage. "No. I don't. I don't think I'll ever get over killing. It's..." He shook his head again and gestured for Holly to precede him. "I can't explain it."
With a sigh, Holly walked in. "It's something you can only learn and understand by experience?"
"Yeah, it kinda is." Nick looked relieved that she understood the concept.
Well, Holly was a scientist, after all. There were things a person could learn from books and classes and lectures. And then there were the things a human could only learn from experiences they, themselves, had. It was an understood phenomenon.
Nick had served in the military from the time he left Gail at the altar to seven months before he walked into Fifteen as their new rookie. The academy was a six month course, which meant there was one month in his life where Nick hadn't worn the uniform.
"But you did. Didn't you?" She tilted her head and looked at the man. "Kill."
"I did." Nick frowned. "You're not going to ask me how many, are you?"
"No," Holly promised. "But ... At the time. You felt it was the right thing to do?"
"I did. I still do." He paused. "It had to happen. One way or the other, someone was going to do it. I'm not glad I did it, I still feel terrible about it, but ... I'm glad it was me and not someone else."
"Pardon me for saying, but I'd rather as few people experienced that as possible."
Nick nodded. "Me too. But ... if it had to be one of 'em, Holly, it's better it was Viv. I don't think Gail's..." Nick trailed off again.
And again, Holly understood him. "You're right."
"How is she?" He meant Gail.
"Oh. About as expected," said Holly with a sigh. "She's focusing on making it matter, so the usual."
"Classic. Shoving her feelings aside and acting cold."
Holly couldn't help but bristle. Damn him for still thinking like that. Yes, Gail came across as cold and unfeeling, but the reality was she felt too damn much and couldn't cope. And damn Nick for not seeing that, for making Gail feel like she wasn't a good enough person to be loved.
It was moments like those where Holly wanted to pop Nick one, right in that square jaw of his.
But she didn't.
"Nick, don't," was all Holly said.
And to his credit, Nick winced and opened the door to Fifteen. "Sorry. I know she's not but ... god she does a good job of looking it."
"She couldn't survive any other way, Nick."
He nodded, clearly abashed. "I know. Sorry."
Their conversion came to a natural stall as they went through the security. It was, of course, heightened. A criminal having a gun tended to do that.
When they reached the landing, and Holly didn't veer off, Nick frowned. "You're not here to see Gail?"
"Shockingly, no. McNally." Holly smiled and let Nick open the door for her.
Poor Andy looked stressed as hell. "Oh god, please don't give me more bad news. Also, if I kill your wife, will you cover for me?"
Holly arched her eyebrows. "Afraid not, I'm fond of her."
"Damn." Andy threw her pen down and rubbed her eyes. "Nick, sweetie, go away." Nick nodded, put a box on the desk, kissed Andy's cheek, and bolted. All without a word. "Gail trained him to be scared, huh?"
Smirking, Holly closed the door. "Not enough, if you ask me."
"Probably for the best that you don't date men." Andy eyed the box on her desk and opened it. "Donuts?"
Living with Gail, one did not pass up a donut. Holly picked up a chocolate frosted with sprinkles. "So. Why do you want to kill my wife?"
Andy grimaced. "Her case is absolutely insane. I mean. That Keith guy was providing pills for drugs, which Thirty-Four was ripping from their own evidence. Now there's a question of if he shot the people he did to cover it up, and somehow your Ben was involved?"
That Andy had not mentioned Mounties meant she didn't know the whole story yet. Alright. "That's actually why I'm here. The Ben thing," admitted Holly, grimly.
The sergeant hesitated. "Was he working with Fifteen too?"
What a horrid thought. "No—" Holly cut herself off. Maybe. But she didn't know. That was Gail's world. "Not that I know of. But two of his cases are about to come right back around at us."
For all Gail gave Andy shit for being slow (or normal, which to Gail was the same thing), Andy McNally was a good cop and a smart human. "Oh shit, the Haan?"
"Todoroki was one of the officers on my exhumations," said Holly, confirming Andy's guess.
"So was Rich. You need him?"
"I will." Holly paused. "How's Todoroki?"
And her friend grimaced. "Desk duty, if he comes back at all. Unless he's some mutant and comes out of rehab like a god." Andy picked up and donut and regarded it seriously before putting it back down. "The sergeant sixteen is killing me," she muttered.
Holly chuckled. "The management spread. Why do you think I still run so much?"
"Gail's cooking, mostly," joked Andy. "How does she not get fat? She eats like a hyperactive six year old."
"It's a medical mystery."
Though Holly did know Gail just had an amped up metabolism and the ability to process anything. And while the benefit was she could eat just about whatever she wanted, there were downsides. Gail absolutely had to eat a full meal before bed or she woke up with a raging headache. She also needed an astounding amount of protein and had to monitor her blood sugar levels. It was probably best that Gail had never tried for pregnancy, to boot.
Not a bit of that was Andy's business.
"Well. It's going to suck to be down two cops," Andy finally complained. "But this has to happen."
"Two? Vivian was cleared by the shrink."
Andy rolled her eyes. "Of course you know that. She still has two weeks off, and a recheck before I can even think about her on the streets. Policy."
Vaguely, Holly recalled Gail telling her about Dov after he shot and killed a young man. But that was a very different situation. And Dov had been younger than Vivian, though competitively emotionally equal.
In Holly's silence, Andy grew doubtful. "How bad is it?"
"For which one?" Holly sighed. "Gail's talking about it, so there's that. Vivian's going to be bored very shortly."
"Oh I have a plan for that," said Andy firmly. "Have to keep the Pecks out of trouble somehow."
"Fite Nite?" Gail eyed her daughter as they walked through the farmer's market, wondering if Vivian was pulling one over on her.
But the dejected expression on the younger woman's face was impossible to mistake. "Gets better, its versus the Mounties and the Firefighters."
"Oh please tell me Jamie isn't organizing," said Gail, a heartbeat from laughter.
Vivian flipped Gail off. "No, but Alice Martlet is."
Who— Oh. The Mountie Elaine had set up with Vivian. "Why was the date bad?"
"She's really dull," grumbled Vivian. "I fell asleep at the movie."
"At least it wasn't dinner," teased Gail.
"You're an asshole, Mom." Vivian shoved her hands in her pockets and sulked a little.
Gail smothered a smile. "Just don't order kosher wine, huh?"
With a tone of disdain, Vivian replied, "I ordered from the same place we do for the Queer Task Force mixers. They gave us a deal."
Given that two lesbians were managing the event, and the shop was owned by a pair of ancient gay men, Gail was sure the deal was legit. "Wait, who's running the firefighters?"
"Casey, from Station Thirteen."
Gail didn't know the name and sighed. "She gay?"
Vivian shot her a look. "It doesn't matter."
That was code for trans. "I'm officially old, you know," Gail muttered as she picked up some cheese and sniffed it. Too strong for Holly. "Do you have a less pungent version?"
The stall keeper did, and after a sample (which she forced on Vivian as well), Gail purchased the cheese.
Once they moved on, Vivian asked, "How are you old?"
"I don't know the right way to ask if someone's trans or not."
Her daughter scowled in a thoughtful way and didn't reply until three stalls later. "Its personal, and I don't think there is a right way. I mean, how'd you ask Mom if she was gay?"
Gail snorted. "I didn't. I told her I hated men, and she said she did too she figured out she was a lesbian."
"Oh right, and you said you just hated people in general." Vivian smirked. "I mean... the problem is why do you want to know? Why do you need to know?"
A few pithy answers lingered on Gail's tongue. "Well. I don't. Except when I'm planning LGBT stuff."
"FYI, I'm renaming that Queer when I take over," interrupted Vivian.
Gail waved a hand. Whatever. "Does it matter for the, uh, purposes of your planning Fite Nite?"
And Vivian shook her head. "Not a bit. Except for the part where Josh was originally the dude in charge of the firefighters, and I threatened him."
"That's my girl," laughed Gail.
Vivian half smiled. "He was being a guy, y'know? I mean ... come on, give up. Women can be fighters too."
"Flashback to the early 2000s, thanks."
Her daughter laughed. "Mom would say flashback to all of history, ever."
Gail smirked. "She'd be right."
And when Gail recounted the conversation to Holly that night, her wife did indeed cut in to make that very remark. Gail laughed and caught a half-glare from her wife.
"What's so funny, Peck?"
Putting down the knife, Gail shook her head and rounded the kitchen island to kiss Holly softly. "Vivian said you'd say that's is all."
Holly rolled her eyes. "I'm so predictable."
Hmm. That night Holly was a little extra snappish. Gail kissed her forehead. "I've been in love with you forever, baby. And the kid watched you pretty much her whole life. Of course we know you."
But still, Holly grumbled. "Wish I knew me."
That was an interesting complaint. "How was work, then, Holly?"
The other woman picked at the dishtowel on the counter. "I keep thinking Jules's death is my fault."
Ah. Gail made sure the food was going to be okay and walked back over. "C'mere."
Holly sighed and let Gail wrap her into a hug. "I know it's not," she mumbled.
"I know you do," replied Gail.
"And you should be way more fucked up about this than I am."
Gail didn't laugh, even though she wanted to. She sighed and caressed Holly's hair. "I can tell you why, but it sucks," Gail said softly. Holly nodded a little and pressed her cheek into Gail's shoulder. "Me and Jules and Todoroki and even that moron Goff... we know what we're getting into."
Predictably, Holly stiffened. "That could've been you."
"No," said Gail firmly but as gently as she could. "It was never going to be me, not that day."
Her wife pushed back and scowled. Angry. No. Livid. "How the hell can you say that, Gail!? You can't know! You can't possibly fucking know!"
Gail winced. "Keith was never going to kill me, Holly. Ever. He couldn't. I... I figured that out after the first time."
And Holly froze, stricken. "What?"
"He needs me, needed me to be alive to solve this."
Holly stared at Gail for a moment. Long enough for Gail to start feeling nervous. "Gail," she finally said softly. "Exactly how big is this?"
"I... I think we have the kind of corruption folks used to accuse my family of having," replied Gail, equally softly.
"But..." Holly stopped. "Family is off limits?" She looked and sounded confused. "Both families, I mean."
Those were, indeed, the rules of political warfare. It was fine to go after people's careers and their ranks and their job. But under no circumstances was there cop killing or civilian family threatening.
And yet.
"I mean... it's possible Jules was on the take," admitted Gail.
Holly gave her a droll look. "Gail."
"Ben was."
That made Holly double take. Then she grumbled. "I don't like this. It's too messy and you aren't making any progress. And it's dangerous." Holly let go of Gail but then smoothed down the shoulders of Gail's shirt. "I'm pissed you keep breaking that promise."
Part of Gail wanted to mutter that if people could stop shooting at her, she would have no problem with that promise. Wisely she did not phrase it quite that way. "I'm not really keen on it myself."
Holly's lips quirked. "We've survived a lot of dangerous things. Anti-royalists. Your car."
"Luongo River fever," added Gail.
"Throw in my cancer scare, why don't you," said Holly, but she was smiling a little. "I know it's not your fault, Gail. I know who I married."
"I'm still sorry," Gail said softly.
"You should be." Holly sighed and leaned back in against her.
Closing her eyes, Gail held Holly close.
They'd actually made a lot of progress. It just wasn't anything they could talk about. Like they'd figured out Keith had a blind drop, though they'd not caught who that was just yet. The whole reason he'd slipped out of the safe house was to deliver a message or whatever.
And in that drop, he'd been caught up in his old hand violence. And had to kill. Probably to keep his cover. The witness wasn't involved, not with the cop side of the story. His background checked out clean. Even Gail's friends from her anti-royalist hunting days confirmed that one.
No. Gail needed a break in the cop side of the damn case. She needed to connect Ben to the corruption properly, stopping him from being a weird loose end. Because as it stood today, Ben was disposable. And if he died, Gail's case went up in smoke.
Okay, and he died, but Gail was having a real hard time feeling bad about that one. Ben had caused so much heartache and stress. He wouldn't tell Gail who he was working with to spread the drugs around, and damn it, she wanted that.
It had to be a connection. Ben invented or made the drugs. The cops from ThirtyFour collected the components. Shopped around in the evidence rooms. Traded with the Mounties. Which brought Keith around to the game...
But how did it all fit?
Either Vivian had misremembered Alice, or the Mountie had become interesting in the five years since they'd really talked. Regardless, setting up Fite Nite with her wasn't terrible.
"Drinks. Seating. Music. Tickets. Ring. Referee. Fighters... I think we've got it!" Alice put her phone to the side and toppled over, sprawling on the benches.
Vivian smirked and looked at the ring. The ropes weren't up yet, but that was actually about to happen. "Good job."
"No thanks to the firemen, god. Casey was useless. Are they all like that?"
"Firefighters? No." Probably Jamie would have been awesome at the job, setting up a boxing match, what with Jason's past. But at the same time, Vivian was glad her girlfriend wasn't around all the time just then. Jamie had been hovering.
Alice made a face. "Isn't your cousin one?"
"Yeah, Shay's a station chief."
"Bet that went over like a lead balloon."
Smiling, Vivian shook her head. "Water over the barn."
Alice laughed. "You're funnier than I remember. More awake too."
"Ouch," Vivian winced. "I am so, so sorry about that."
But Alice just laughed again. "It's fine. We were both getting ready for the academy. Did you get that degree?"
Vivian nodded. "I did. Actually. Undergrad."
"Think your doc mom is upset you didn't get the fancy letters?"
"She says not, and since I actually use my degrees, unlike some people..."
That made Alice laugh again. This time happily. Friendly like. "Oh my god, I'm sorry but I actually like music!"
"Seriously? What's a Mountie gonna do with a degree in folk music?"
Alice shoved her arm. "Oh my god, you're just an ass."
There was a weird tension, though, like ... was Alice hitting on her? Uh oh. Better cut that off. "So my girlfriend says," drawled Vivian.
"Hah. Mine thinks I'm crazy." Alice reached back and picked her phone up, tapping and turning it towards Vivian. "This is Mary."
"Mary and Alice. Nice." But Vivian took the phone. Mary was plump, cheerful, bright-eyed and happy. "Okay she's cute."
"She's a painter." Alice leaned over and swiped through pictures of them until she stopped on a modern piece. "I don't understand it, personally."
"It's Mondrian," said Vivian. "Primary colour blocking. Kinda looks like Rothko."
Alice was quiet for a moment. "Wow. Okay, did you study art or something?"
Vivian smiled. "Actually yes, but only to keep up with Mom." Handing the phone back, she pulled out her own and pulled up a photo of herself and Jamie dressed up for country dancing. "Jamie."
"Sexy!"
"She's a firefighter."
"Oooh, super awkward now!" Alice winced. "So I'm taking back my comment about firefighters?"
Vivian laughed. "Oh but bashing my cousin was okay?"
"Well. We're cops!" Alice shook her head. "I mean... seriously? A firefighter? Is that what you did to get this shitty gig?"
"What?" Eying the Mountie, Vivian abruptly wondered if this was meant to be punishment. Andy had implied not, that it was to keep her from committing arson, because little was more dangerous than a bored Peck. But Andy lied.
"Oh come on, Peck. No one volunteers for this. It sucks. I'm here because I told off my CO."
Ah. Vivian looked at the ring and its posts. She really didn't want to tell a relative stranger anything, but. Gail had implied there was something to be learned from the Martlets, and even though the elder lot had been useless, maybe, just maybe, Gail had barked up the wrong tree.
Give to get, remembered Vivian, and she sighed. "We had a shooting. Boss wants me off the street for a bit, is all."
Alice looked surprised. "Shit, the ... At Fifteen? That was you?"
Nodding, Vivian pointed out, "It comes with the job. ETF I mean."
"I thought you were just bombs and electronics."
"We don't have enough to man a full time squad, let alone the three we need. Everyone has to fill in, and I was handy."
She was also the best person for the job, and everyone knew it. Of everyone available at Fifteen in that moment, Vivian was the best long range shot with a rifle. Hell, she was better than Gail at that. Of course Gail still kicked her ass with a pistol, but the pesky blonde had never cared about rifles so much. Usually she made a veiled comment about how 'mine is bigger.'
"Man. That sucks," said Alice, emphatically. "You okay?"
Vivian blinked. Most people hadn't asked that directly. "Uh. I think so? Shrink cleared me."
Alice scoffed. "Puh-lease. Anyone with an IQ point can pass that!"
Well. That was true. Vivian smirked. "My shrink did too."
"Ahhh well, find me one of us legacies who doesn't have one, huh?" Alice shook her head. "If you need to talk though, I mean, I haven't but my Mom has."
The gears whirred in Vivian's head for a moment. That date with Alice, her father was the Mountie and her mother was a civilian secretary. "Hang on, you said your mom wasn't a Mountie!"
Alice looked surprised. "Oh you were listening at dinner!" She grinned, teasingly. "Yeah, so surprise. Right? My fucking mother has been a secret agent for the Mounties since forever! She just retired and told me all about it."
"What? That— They do that!?"
"Apparently. She did a lot of IA crap. She was all internal spying shit." Alice sighed deeply. "Did your parents ever lie like that to you?"
"No," said Vivian right away. Except they had. Kind of. They'd kept her birth family a bit of a secret. Her aunt. Who was still alive. And that was exactly the same as this, a secret that they were obligated to keep, regardless of their desires.
Frankly, Vivian was surprised that Holly kept that secret all those years. Gail made sense. She took her loyalty to the law seriously and would sooner turn herself in than lie on the stand. But Holly, she was incurable honest and hated lying. It must have killed her.
"It sucks. Dad lost his mind a bit."
"Oh! He didn't know?"
Alice shook her head. "Nope! Crazy, isn't it? And Mom won't say if she was investigating Dad!" The Mountie sighed loudly. "Anyway, they whole reason I'm saying this is cause Mom has shot someone, so y'know, if you want to talk to someone who's been there..."
A number of thoughts whizzed through Vivian's head. The first was that, yes, she could use the talk. But the next few were wondering if Gail had gone down the wrong tree with the Martlet family. Had she talked to the wrong people about being involved in the kind of long term con that they suspected as going on? What if Alice's mother had insight to this case?
Well. That made her decision easy, didn't it?
"Yeah. Yes. I'd ... I'd appreciate that, Alice."
And the other woman smiled brightly. "Us uniqueers gotta stick together, right?"
Hopefully that was true for legacies too.
While Holly had never met a Martlet, she was enjoying it. Seeing the other side of the Peck coin, in the shape of a legacy Mountie family, was amusing to say the least. And Sara and Yuri Martlet were somewhat reminiscent of the stories of Elaine and Bill in their heyday.
Also how the hell did people named Sara and Yuri decide to call their kid Alice?
"I'm sorry," said Sara, the second Holly walked into Gail's office.
Holly blinked. "For what?"
"This whole mess." Sara glanced at her husband. "Yuri didn't even know, or he would have gotten me."
The man was short and swarthy and looked incredibly annoyed. He just nodded, though.
Gail sighed. "And I'm sorry about the cover story."
That was because the reason Holly and Yuri were there was only to lend verisimilitude to the idea that it was a meeting of the top power families. It really was something Gail had wanted to keep Holly far, far away from as much of the mess as possible, after all.
"Eh. I'm used to it," said Sara, resigned. "All Yuri told me was you were looking into money laundering?"
"Not exactly..." Gail got up and closed her blinds, locking her door to boot, before summoning her wall to life. "We have a convoluted case. You've heard about the drug called Crave?"
Sara nodded. "Yes. Kills kids right fast. Scary shit."
"We believe the formula was either invented or perfected by Dr. Benjamin Kincaid, late of the Toronto crime lab. He's keeping mum, mind you." As Gail spoke, Holly felt Sara's eyes on her. "The complicated comes with that gunman who held me hostage earlier this year. He ran with the SSG, had some trace on him, and when we arrested Ben, did suicide by cop."
There was no other way to call that, and Holly knew it, but she still hated it.
Looking over, Yuri cleared her throat. "That was your daughter, wasn't it?" When Holly nodded, he asked, "Is she alright?"
Gail and Holly shared a look. "No," said Holly softly.
"She will be," said Sara. "Alice... she caught me up. I talked to Vivian." Sara took her husband's hand. "But this, I'm sorry, I do understand how horrible this is, but how exactly do the Mounties and money laundering roll into this?"
Taking a deep breath, Gail touched her wall. "The drugs were made by components found in ThirtyFour Division, where we have a series of crooked cops, I know. We've rooted out some, but the money we found on them, and on our hostage taker, all tracked back to a pyramid scheme run by you seven years ago."
And Keith's face went up on the wall.
And Sara's face went white.
"Keith..."
Gail sharpened. It was bewildering to watch, but she tensed and grew suddenly harder. Harsher. Firmer. Like a knife had just been created before them. "Yes," was all she said, her eyes stormy and locked on Sara alone.
"Keith was your hostage taker?" Sara met Gail's eyes, unflinchingly. "He's the one you shot and killed?"
"He had a gun on her," muttered Yuri.
"Shut up," said Sara, letting go of her husband's hand. "Do you know who Keith was?"
"A spy," Gail said carefully. "Who killed, stabbed a man to death on New Years, and no I don't know why."
Sara stiffened. "Show me." Immediately Gail pulled up a picture of the man. "Shit. Keith was a ... yes. He was a spy. Keith Dix He was an IA man, picked because he had no family. And that, that dead man was his handler. Joey White."
Glancing over, Holly saw the terrible terrible joke of Keith's last name flit across Gail's face. Later. Please god let her make that joke later. "So," said Holly carefully. "Keith was a Mountie."
To her surprise, Sara shook her head. "Officially no. He never finished the academy." The woman sighed loudly. "Peck, you know how it is."
And Gail nodded. "Yeah, I get it," she replied. "Keith was off the books. That's... Normal. We have a couple." That was news to Holly. "I didn't want to kill him."
"Well." Sara looked at the wall. "Joey shouldn't have been anywhere near the money. God. He was using ThirtyFour to launder it, vis-á-vis the drugs and stolen property from your lock up. How long has that been going on?"
"Looks like six years, give or take. I need to clean house, but I'd like your spies out of the way first," Gail pointed out and picked up her tea mug "Were you trying to catch our guys in the act?"
Sara shook her head. "God, no. Well... not unless you're trying to nail Galbraith for embezzlement?"
Gail didn't look shocked. "So that's his angle. Figures. Think he roped in the drugs for an extra bank for retirement?"
"I would," said Sara with a shrug. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that if Galbraith stole from the Mounties, which I'm betting is by accident, then he's been using it to pay off Ben and his cadre of criminal cops."
"Nice," muttered Yuri.
"She has a knack," said Holly, softly.
Sara ignored them both. "He's not the mastermind, though, is he?"
"Gally ain't that smart," said Gail firmly. "Someone else fed him this plot."
But Sara looked unsure. "People surprise you... This was not my arena. I'm an embezzlement expert, but I've never been dialled into this case. Who have you been working with?"
Gail sighed. "On your end, just Marcel Savard."
"Good. And in your end?"
"Vivian and Traci Peck. Wolfgang Dodge, IA. Frankie Anderson, ThirtyFour."
"How much do you trust Anderson?"
Without a hesitation, Gail replied, "With my life."
That seemed to appease Sara. "We'll keep this a private affair then?"
Gail nodded again. "Just us four for now."
"I need active hands." Sara looked at Yuri. "You'd be to obvious."
Her husband seemed to agree. "Alice, though. She's always had that inkling. A side transfer wouldn't be suspicious if we attached her to Savard."
"I trust your judgement," Gail said slowly. "But you will need to dial her in all the way. We can't have her half-cocked."
"I guess I'd better explain to my daughter I'm not actually retired, then," she said with a rueful expression. "How do you handle that?"
Glancing at Holly, Gail looked a bit sad. "She's been in since she was ten, Sara. She knows."
The Martlets exchanged a look that spoke of a longstanding argument. "Fine," said Yuri, under his breath. "But I don't like it."
After the Martlets left, Holly eyed her wife. Gail was incredibly closed off. "Was that good?"
Gail scratched the back of her head. "Maybe. I don't know. They have more power to investigate on the sly than Marcel. But he might get really pissed I jumped over him."
Holly walked up behind Gail and wrapped her arms around her wife. Gail's body was too tense. It was strung tight and over wound. "Honey," said Holly carefully.
But all Gail did was lean back, pressing her weight against Holly's, and pat the hands. "It's a lot," Gail said, her voice calm. "But until we find the mastermind, Holly, you need to stay as far away from this as possible."
"Gail, I really don't give a shit if I lose my job."
"I care about your life, Holly." Gail turned around and put her hands on Holly's shoulders. "This is not something to mess around with. You see anything suspicious, you call me right away."
There was a quality to Gail's voice. Something about the tone. Holly had heard it twice, maybe three times before. First, she remembered it too well, when Gail told her to get away from the car. This was clear.
Before, Gail had intimated that she was worried about the direction the case might go. She had stated outright she worried family would be targeted. And now one of Holly's staff had been arrested and someone was shot.
Swallowing a suddenly dry throat, Holly could only nod.
Gail Peck was scared.
So was Holly.
Never once had Gail actually liked Fite Nite. Even the last one she went to, when Christian had redeemed Fifteen (finally), and she'd ditched early to spend a childless evening with Holly, she'd hated it. Someone spilled beer on her best boots, ruining them, and there was the guy who'd puked on their car. Plus Vivian had gotten her head all messed up by Olivia.
But going back, Pecks did not fare well at Fite Nite. Her parents had broken up at one, back when they'd been newly dating. Steve had his girl cheat on him. Gail had ... well. Yeah. Taze oneself in the eye really was a hard line to top.
Were it not for two things, Gail would simply avoid the night entirely and try to seduce her rather willing wife. Was it even seduction when it was ones own spouse? Eh. Either way. She was here to support her daughter, and she was here to clandestinely meet with Sara Martlet.
Taking a deep breath, Gail walked inside and was immediately faced with her kid.
"Drink ticket, Inspector?" Vivian looked entirely bored.
"How many do I get for free?"
"Four."
Gail took the tickets. "You gave Collins four."
"Yeah? Funny, how that works," drawled Vivian. "Almost like everyone gets the same amount."
"You're no fun. How did I raise a boring kid?" Gail stuck her tongue out and got a smirk in return. "Who's fighting?"
Vivian rolled her eyes. "No one reads the website, God." And she rattled off a series of names.
"No one from Fifteen?"
The girl hesitated. "Todoroki was going to but..."
"Aaaand there I am, shoving my feet in my mouth. Gotta be Fite Nite."
"Mom, Celery said curses like that aren't real," chided Vivian.
Gail smirked. "And we always believe Celery. Arright, kid, good luck."
Her daughter smirked right back and handed over four tickets to the next guest. Gail had to admit it was well organized. The drinks were on the way in, easy to get around and back to the fights. There was actually food for a change, and it looked good. As she paused by the snacks, Gail snorted a laugh. The food was sponsored by three Queer companies and a bakery Gail knew rather well.
"Man," said Dov. "I don't know who the hell Bita's Bakery is, but this shit is good."
"Holly knows them," Gail replied. "What brings you to Fite Nite?"
Her old friend and former roommate shrugged. "I came by to drop off the last papers for Chloe. Sold the house. She said she was coming so I tagged along."
"Cause that ain't awkward."
"Ugh, you sound like Oliver."
Gail had to laugh. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, and I'm including your high as hell proposal to have pale, pale, children."
And Dov too laughed. "God, that would have been a mess."
Lifting her beer, Gail saluted her old friend. "Speaking of a mess, how's your mess?"
"We're good." Dov looked over at Chloe, who was schmoozing with Frankie and Traci. "Seriously."
"You were kinda a dick, you know."
Dov sighed. "I was. And so was she. I love her. Always will, Gail. We're just not good together like that."
What a strange idea. Gail watched Chloe laugh and hug Traci about something. What would it be like to know and accept that a relationship was doomed? God knew she never had. Except the whole cheating on Nick thing, but he had first, emotionally. But.
Huh. Gail still thought of her relationship with Nick as having a 'but' in it. That was really telling of how she felt about everyone except Holly, wasn't it?
"I'm glad you figured out whatever you are," she told Dov, seriously.
"Me too. Me too." He lifted his beer in salute. "I'm gonna catch up with Andy."
Gail watched Dov walk off with a little wonder. How different they all were now, and how different they had always been. It was true, they weren't all always close. And now, only the women were still at Fifteen. But they weren't together. Andy had the uniforms, Traci had Guns and Gangs. Gail had OC.
"You look a bit melancholic," said Sara Martlet.
"Life's pretty weird," Gail replied.
"Sure is." Sara sipped her white wine. "Your wife here?"
"No, she has a paper she wanted to finish. It was suggested I get out of the house, otherwise I'd ditch."
"Not a fan of the pugilistic arts?"
Gail smirked. "Only when it's my sister in law doing the beat down." She paused. "Or my ex getting beat up."
The other woman laughed. "There's a thought." Then she glanced around. "Can we talk?"
That sounded like work. Gail sighed and poured a glass of wine. "If we make it sound like small talk, we should be able to get away with it."
Sara nodded. "Alright. We have a couple problems. Keith was supposedly meant to infiltrate the drug kingpin that your lab tech was working for."
"Ben? How is that a problem?"
"Because Keith was supposed to be working with one of our deep cover operatives. Who was killed by someone at ThirtyFour."
"Do I want to know who killed him?"
"Galbraith."
Gail almost snorted her wine out of her nose. "Gally? Homophobic rat-turd Gally? He killed someone?"
"Oh. That explains... " Sara shook her head. "Yes. Him. To cover the embezzelment."
"That's a lock?"
"Yes. He's been skimming off the top at ThirtyFour for years, which I know you knew. News though is that he killed our deep cover agent in with SSG two years ago. Since Keith didn't know the blind drop, he decided to wait it out."
And that ended in Keith's death. "Wait, how do you know what he decided?"
"We have his notes. He kept filing them, like he was supposed to. And since his orders were to stay under unless told otherwise..." Sara trailed off. "He was a good kid."
"He kept trying to imply there was someone besides Ben," noted Gail. "But Gally?"
"All the evidence points to him."
Gail frowned. "Wait. You haven't filed this?"
"No." Sara glanced over at the sea of white shirts. "Someone from my side is still working on this. I just gave Savard a little more access." She gnawed at a thumbnail. "I think our local inspector is in on this."
Someone who would be Gally's peer. "So Gally's got a cadre of bent cops doing ... skimming. Money laundering and supplying the SSG with resources to make Crave. Which they figured out how to make because of Ben. And your crooked inspector is ... what?"
"Kingpin of SSG," sighed Sara. "Simon. Henri Simon."
Gail blinked. No. "Wait a second... there's a third." Sara looked at her, perplexed. "Simon, Galbraith. S and G. There's a second S. It's not Squeaky Shoe Gang, it's their damn initials. Who's the dead guy?"
The colour on Sara's face washed out a little. "Serres. Phillipa Serres."
So Gally was willing to kill not only a Mountie, but a crooked one that he'd been allied with. How far would he go to take over. "The man Keith killed. Stabbed. You said he was his contact. Was he yours?"
Sara shook her head. "I was hoping Joey turned out to be yours."
"He might be," Gail said grimly. If Gally had flipped Joey, then he'd be hers. "I'll have Frankie run him."
The 'retired' Mountie made a noise. "How much do you trust your crew?"
"With my life," Gail said without hesitation. She knew Traci and Frankie would go to the line for her. Vivian too. Though Gail would do everything in her power to shield her daughter from any fall out. "Maybe not Dodge..."
Sara half smiled. "I can vouch for Marcel. But we really need ... god we need an expert spy."
"You know ..." Gail smiled her vicious smile. "I think I know someone."
"I'm revising my earlier statements on Fite Nites," said Vivian quietly before kissing Jamie's shoulder.
"Shhhh. No talking."
Vivian grinned and oozed off the side of her girlfriend a little, much to Jamie's whinge of a complaint. At least she thought that's what the noise meant. Still, Vivian stretched out over the other half of the bed and felt rather pleased with herself.
First of all, she'd gotten her mother connected with the right Martlets and clearly that part of the case was going well. Second, she'd pulled off a successful Fite Nite, which hopefully she'd never have to do again. Third, her girlfriend was entirely boneless in their bed, and she was clearly awesome at sex.
Most successful night indeed.
"I can actually hear you being smug," muttered Jamie.
"I have a right to be."
"Yes, but its unbecoming."
"You're mad your guy lost."
Jamie huffed and turned to look at Vivian, the moon and ambient light from the outside world filtering through the stained glass. It cast a weirdly colourful paint across Jamie's dusky skin, turning it purple in some places and gold in others. Vivian couldn't help but reach over and trace her fingers across the patterns created by the lead lines.
Her breath hitched, and Jamie grumbled, "You're trying to distract me."
"Admiring, that's all." Vivian smiled and carefully kissed a spot where the colours were a sort of burning orange, appropriate, just below Jamie's shoulder. "You still lost."
The groan from Jamie was not the super happy one. She shoved Vivian away, though gently, almost playfully. "You're a fucking brat. You know that, right?"
Catching Jamie's hand, Vivian dug her thumb into the meat of Jamie's hand. "S'my Mom's fault."
This time the groan was pleasurable. "You have a million years to stop doing that," muttered Jamie.
"How's the shoulder, loser?"
Jamie flipped her off with the other hand. "It's fine. How the hell did that scrawny little asshat win? I mean, he's barely featherweight!"
"Brennan went to university on a boxing scholarship."
"Oh, you had a ringer."
"Technically he was a last minute replacement. Still kicked your guy's ass."
"Fucking Ramon," grumbled Jamie and she took her hand back. "Roll over."
"Back or stomach?" Vivian really didn't question why. She'd stopped the third or fourth time 'roll over' turned out to mean either sex or a massage. They were both wins.
"Stomach. I saw you lifting that crate of wine."
"Gallo Chardonnay. Cheap ass wine of old white ladies."
Jamie laughed and sat on Vivian's legs. "I saw Gail drinking that."
"I stand by my statement."
Closing her eyes, Vivian sank into the mattress as Jamie dug the heels of her hands in Vivian's lower back. Her back didn't hurt, but she wasn't about to pass up a nice massage. Sure, Celery and her staff were better, but it was just nice to have one's girlfriend perform the act.
That hadn't always been true. Hell, Vivian hadn't even liked massages until the time she took a field hockey puck to the small of her back and went down like a sack of potatoes. She'd actually cried over that, and generally Vivian was not the person who cried at minor injuries.
Even with Jamie, it had taken almost a year to get used to the idea of being touched randomly. It wasn't that Vivian didn't like it, it was just that she wasn't used to it and she hated being surprised. Jamie understood that and had taken to announcing things like "I'm going to hug you now" which helped a lot.
As Jamie worked out the little bit of tension in Vivian's back, she relaxed even more. "Thank you," Jamie said, as Vivian sunk further into the bed.
"For mind blowing sex? Totes welcome."
Jamie slapped her butt. "You're a goon, Peck."
"Yeah, but you dig it."
"God help me, I do," said her girlfriend, laughing. "How are you not stiff?"
"I work out," drawled Vivian.
Jamie snickered again. "I have more muscles, you know."
That was true. "I like your muscles." When she'd first seen Jamie, she'd noticed how fit she was. Then later, when spotting her in a t-shirt, she'd been stunned. Jamie was butch. She had muscles for days, sculpted abs, and her shoulders were broad and buff.
Which, hey, who knew that was one of Vivian's things?
"I like yours. You're all so ... rock climber lean." Jamie sighed, happily. "Long." She swept her hands down Vivian's back. "You up for a bigger thank you?"
"I don't mind hanging on till later. It's not a competition."
And Jamie laughed. That said, things led to things, as they tended to. Some time later, or perhaps in no time at all, it was Vivian who was limply sprawled across the bed, grinning.
As sometimes happened in those matters, however, she was not tired. Oh Jamie was. She was already soundly asleep, sawing logs and using Vivian's arm as a pillow. Which was okay for the moment. Vivian smiled and looked down at the tousled brown head on her arm, admiring the beauty and revelling in the fact.
Life was funny sometimes. No. It was funny all the time, but not always in the hah-hah funny way. All the terrible things that had happened in her past, and frankly they were terrible, led Vivian to where she was today. It got her out of her birth house and the homes and into the weirdly welcoming arms of her parents. It got her through a confused and turbulent youth.
Sure, she was hiding behind a uniform and a badge, but those things were normal.
Acceptable.
And all Vivian had wanted for years was to be normal. Now she had normal. A good job with friends who teased her but supported her. A girlfriend who was amazing and kind and beautiful. A family who loved her.
With a snore that turned into a snort and a yawn, Jamie stretched and rolled over, wriggling into the bed more and shoving her butt against Vivian's hip.
Vivian laughed softly. Well. That was part of normal too.
Which meant she was wide awake when she heard the crash.
Somewhere her brain knew the sound, filed it in its appropriate slot, and had her up and out of bed before her thoughts really caught up with themselves. Something was hitting the side of the building. Something small, but dangerous. A second hit was closer to her floor.
Shit. "Jamie, hey. Five alarm. Get up and get dressed," she hissed.
Groggily, Jamie opened her eyes. "What the fuck?"
"Jamie, get up." Vivian pulled on the nearest clothes. For once, she didn't care that they were smelly and what she'd worn that night. She dressed fast, the way Gail had drilled into her when there was a crisis.
Abruptly she remembered being seven or so when the city had lost power. That was the night someone beaned Gerald with an axe (handle) and broke Dov's leg and Gail had pulled on her uniform to work the beat. That was the first time Vivian had seen Officer Gail Peck.
It had been equally terrifying and comforting. But Gail had that way about her. She was a terrifying individual and yet she was the most loyal human being. She cared deeply, she did her job no matter how scared she herself was. It was something Gail had learned from Oliver, not the Pecks. And it was something Oliver had tried so hard to teach Vivian too.
"Vivian, what's going on?"
Thank god, Jamie was getting dressed. "Someone's chucking things at the building," said Vivian, surprised at how calm she sounded. Jamming her feet into her shoes, Vivian paused and opened the closet to get her gun out of the safe.
The moment the lock clicked open, Vivian heard Jamie curse. "Viv. Come on. It's just gotta be kids."
The crash of glass startled them both. Vivian's immediate thought was that if those assholes had broken the stained glass, she was going to be pissed off. Then there was a solid thump of something heavy clattering in the living room. "Stay in the doorway," she instructed, and entered the hallway.
Training kicked in. As she stepped down the hall, slowly and steadily, Vivian wished she had her gear. An HUD would be so fucking useful. Lock in on all the cameras in the area and monitor before entering. But no. She didn't even have a security camera on the balcony because it was super creepy.
Elaine was going to glare at her, she just knew it.
Without turning on the lights, Vivian paused at the end of the hall and let her eyes adjust to the different level of light in the living area. There were more windows and constant ambient light there. Christian's door was closed. Had he come home yet? Vivian glanced at the coat pegs and saw the jean jacket C had worn that night. And only that jacket. Good, he didn't have a date over.
Then she looked at the living room and winced. How the fuck had they missed the big window the first couple times? It was shattered. Vivian stayed still, scanning the room until she spotted the object that had done the damage. A rock. And there was the other sound; brick with something tied to it.
"Jesus, what is this? A classic horror movie?" She grimaced and turned back, seeing a nervous Jamie still in the doorway. "It looks safe. I'm going to sweep the room." Vivian glanced at Jamie's feet. "Put your shoes on."
As her girlfriend scampered back to do that, Vivian carefully slipped down the wall until she could see out the window. The broken window. Damn it. No one. She sighed and then took a better look, poking her head out. Nothing. No one. They were long gone. Damn.
She hesitated and then went to the kitchen for disposable gloves. They'd nicked a box from Holly to chop hot peppers once, and they would be good enough to check the note. Vivian pulled the glove on and carefully untied the note.
Keep away.
That was it. But it was enough.
One of the things Gail had taught her was to be able to use her phone in one hand while her gun was in the other. She had to be able to use the phone without looking, because the gun needed more attention. Vivian had cheated by programming her phone to do certain tasks on command. But anyone could unlock their phone without looking and talk to it. "Call Frankie Anderson."
As the phone rang, she kicked Christian's door. "C, get up, get dressed, and put your shoes on." A half hearted 'fuck off' came from the depths of his room. "C, cops'll be here soon. Get up."
That got him moving.
The phone picked up. "Peck, someone better be dead."
"Someone chucked a brick through my window, with a note on it."
Frankie was silent for a moment. "What's it say?"
"Keep away."
"Well they're not stunning conversationalists," grumbled Frankie. "I'm on my way, don't call the cops."
"Yes, ma'am." Vivian thumbed the phone off and sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Well. That's not good, now, is it?