02.05 - Broad Daylight
It's time for Gail's least favorite duty ever: the Pride Float. When a death happens at the parade, Gail finds herself the witness for a murder.
Between her schedule and Jamie's, it took a week to get to the second date. That was just coffee at Viv's favorite coffee shop, since Vivian was stuck on the night shift for a few days and Jamie was about to start the rough part of her schedule. But they talked a little, much more privately, and Vivian explained she'd been adopted at age six. Jamie's parents were a teacher and a florist, supportive if confused by her career, and lived in Mississauga. They also kissed again, a little more seriously, when Viv dropped Jamie off on her way to work.
It wasn't like they were really going to run into each other at work often, and Jamie's schedule was cryptic by half. It didn't help that the precinct was a mess with a break on the arson case. Everyone had been impressed and shocked that Gerald had gotten the information out of the supplier. Sadly he'd also uncovered that Gary rolled on his supplier, meaning the kid to whom he'd been selling was, likely, getting the stuff direct from someone else.
Win some, lose some.
None of that helped her love life, but Vivian wasn't about to complain to her mother about that. It would raise too many questions of who she was kissing. A firefighter. It would probably go over poorly. And yet Vivian was still so very intrigued by Jamie Lynn McGann. Enough that she called her back and set up a dinner. That led to another parking lot make out session. It also led to Lara and Christian teasing the hell out of her for the expressions on her face when Jamie would text her during the day. Yes, she had a crush on someone who liked her too.
Another week later they went to an afternoon movie, Jamie's idea, and ended up making out on Vivian's motorcycle, this time outside Jamie's apartment. Jamie invited her in, which might have worked out (Vivian was contemplating ditching the family dinner), but just as they started to tentatively explore each other over clothes and on the couch, Jamie's roommate came home. Depressed. Having been dumped by her boyfriend.
Ruby had been her best friend in school, Jamie had explained before. They'd been roommates since their senior year of school. It was like Holly and Lisa and Rachel. They supported each other, not always kindly. But at least Ruby didn't make blue collar comments.
"Maybe we should go to your place," muttered Jamie as Ruby went to the bathroom.
"You really want to ditch your best friend?" As Jamie sighed Vivian added, in the hopes of making her feel less guilty, "And I'm supposed to have dinner with Moms tonight. Unless you want to come."
Jamie winced. "I forgot you go there all the time."
"You say it like its a bad thing." Vivian wasn't sure if it was. She was 24. Eating at home with her parents wasn't too weird. Was it? From Ruby, Vivian got the impression that the two of them had moved out together as teenagers and rarely went to see their parents. At least Vivian had moved out recently. She didn't want to think about how well 'I live with my parents' might go over with Jamie.
A pair of soft lips touched hers. "Only because I want to spend more time with you. Uninterrupted."
Sighing, Vivian fought not to grip Jamie's waist and pull her close. Instead she gently kissed Jamie again. "Me too."
A door or something slammed in the back of the apartment. "I need to be a good friend." Jamie reluctantly let go, her fingers lingering in a way even Vivian couldn't miss.
"As much as I hate that, it's kinda great that you care." Vivian picked up her jacket and pulled it on.
"I think it's great how you look in that jacket." The brown eyes roamed over Vivian's form. "It is, literally, not fair how hot you look. And it's worse in your uniform. Mine makes me look like a box."
Vivian smiled. "Fireproof box."
Squinting, Jamie picked up Vivian's helmet. "Protection is a turn on?"
"Hey, I'm not the badge bunny." She ooffed as Jamie shoved the helmet into her stomach. "You said it."
"Go home." But Jamie was smiling. "Text me your schedule?"
Vivian nodded. "I will. McNally posts 'em tomorrow."
There was one more kiss before Vivian rode to her childhood home. Her buoyant mood was squashed by a scowling Gail Peck at the house. "Your mother is on the warpath," Holly said low and warningly as she hugged Vivian hello.
"What happened?"
"Luck has a family crisis, so it's Gail or Frankie on the float next weekend." Holly sighed and shook her head. "I need to finish my file and I'll be right back."
Vivian winced and followed Holly through to the kitchen. Frankie was the poster child for bad PR. "Which means Mom's on the float. Do I need to volunteer?" The year before, Vivian had been a super baby cop, stuck on tape duty.
"No," said Gail rather loudly. "McNally needs all of you on the route. Some dickweed threatened to shoot the church floats."
"Oh. I'm working the parade?" Damn. There went her chances of a getting together with Jamie in the next seven days. Pride week was rough enough when she were having fun. Working the parade was bound to be exhausting.
Holly cleared her throat as she came back. Clearly she had very little work left. "Can we shelve all bitchfests about the day? I was promised homemade sausages." She paused at the foot of the stairs and winced.
In the pause, Gail started snickering like a twelve year old boy. Holly just smiled and, in that moment, Vivian knew her mother set herself up for the joke. Any time Gail was in a mood, Holly was good at making her smile a little. "Really, Mom?" Vivian played into it.
Gail laughed for real now. "Fine! Sausages! Mini human, put on an apron and assist."
"I'm taller than you are, Mom," teased Vivian.
"You're also dressed a little nice for dinner for us," countered Gail. "Were you on a date?"
Vivian sighed. "Jesus, I was out... Lunch." She poked holes in the sausages and deflected. "Maybe next year we can mommy/daughter the float?"
Her blonde mother looked thoughtful. "You're not just saying that because you're trying to mollify me."
"No. I kinda liked the float. And it's not like I'm in the closet at work."
Gail made a snort of a laugh. "Well not since Steve knows. No going back now, girlfriend."
"He really is a gossip." Vivian smiled. Steve was a conundrum. He kept secrets that mattered and bribed and cajoled with the ones that felt like they didn't. He was an amazing professional. And in his own, odd, way, had made Gail stronger by not letting her hide about who she was. Vivian put the fork down and gave Gail a quick hug.
"Ew! What the hell, twerp?" But Gail was laughing, happily.
"I love you, Mom. Even if you're the least mature person I know."
Gail rolled her eyes. "Maturity is overrated."
"You're only saying that because you're incapable of it," teased Vivian.
Of course, Gail's lack of maturity was not all encompassing. When it came to cleaning up the house or showering (if one happened to be a particularly filthy hoyden of a child) or homework, Gail was astoundingly grown. It was Holly who didn't give a shit about the homework, or attendance at school.
"Stop poking the bear, honey," said Holly, smiling, on her return. She had her hair free from the bun she wore when working. "Would you rather work the parade or the float?"
Vivian made a face. "I'd rather binge watch that new sci-fi show. That reminds me! Did you see who the favorite is for the new Doctor?"
Both mothers nodded. "Ginny Weasly as the Doctor," said Gail. "Finally a ginger!"
"Pretty sure she has a real name, Gail." Holly leaned against Gail's back to watch her cook.
Simple moments, but Vivian smiled at her parents. Well. Maybe one day she could have that too. Someone to tease and flirt with and just be her misanthropic self with.
The last damned paper was signed and Holly shoved her laptop away. It was nowhere near as satisfying as throwing a pen down, but it was what she had these days. She also had her staff set up for the parade. Marching with the doctors, and representing the medical examiners, were Wanda and Ivan. A handful of techs, including the cute guy from ballistics, were walking with them.
While not a fan of marching herself, Holly did keep an eye on things to make sure the offices would be peopled by those who were not about to embark on a week long Pride Fest. That meant limiting the people who could go, in official capacities at least, and serious consequences for those who called in sick.
After all, they weren't some accounting job. People's lives depended on them. The answers of their pain were in the hands of the labs. Employees who ditched work just to have a few laughs and celebrate Pride quickly found the Chief Medical Examiner didn't fuck around. Gay or not, the work was important and to be taken seriously. Calling in hungover was not cool.
Of course, Holly had done her stint at the parade as a teenager and college student. Who hadn't? Thousands of people with one thing in common. It had always felt marvelous to see that the odd part of her was also completely normal. Over time, the more comfortable Holly was with her own self, the less she felt a pressing need to celebrate her sexuality in public.
Maybe that was why Vivian wasn't as fussed about those things. Her whole life, she'd been surrounded by lesbians, for the most part. And gay men, though that was mostly because of Matty. Still, gay wasn't something to come to terms with for Vivian; it was what it was and Vivian never seemed to worry about it. Of course, their world was different. When Holly had been young, being homosexual was talked about quietly and behind closed doors. No one was 'out' back then, not even famous actors unless there had been a scandal.
But then, slowly, it changed. Ellen and Rosie came out publicly, Ellen gracing the cover of a Time magazine Holly still kept, much like her grandfather had held on to a D-Day newspaper. It was the day her world changed. That day was the turning point for a generation. It was when Holly went from being shy and embarrassed about being what she was, to quietly accepting.
It wasn't easy. Her brief tiff with her own mother, titularly over medical school, had really been a conglomeration of many things. Lily had dreamed of the normal life, where someone went to school and college, who dated and eventually met a boy she'd married, who had children. And then she had Holly, who didn't really do those things properly. Except for the school.
When Holly announced she wanted to be a pathologist, it had been the safe thing for Lily to yell about. But they'd both known, they'd always both known it was so much more than that. That hadn't made her struggles to understand herself any easier, but Holly couldn't blame her mother at all. Certainly not now when her own daughter was forging a path Holly didn't understand.
She raised her kid as best she could and tried not to screw her up when she diverged and went her own way.
Thank goodness Gail had met her years later. When the impish blonde bombshell dropped into her life, Holly knew who and what she was. Mostly. She knew she was a lesbian, that was certain. The whole figuring out what kind of person she was, well, that took a long time. It would not have been as successful or easy without Gail. And from their shared confidence, they had apparently showed Vivian how to be a successful adult.
Not for the first time, Holly wondered what would have happened had they not adopted her. Vivian with her justified fears and her emotional scars needed someone who understood that pain. And she needed someone who could love her unconditionally. Admittedly, that was not how Holly had seen herself, those years ago.
Holly turned the photo of the three of them with King William and Queen Kate around. The teenaged Vivian had informed the royals, rather boldly, that had her mother died, she would have been pretty anti-Royal. Thankfully, Wills and Kate found that hilarious and agreed that they would have expected no less.
But that photo of a wife, a mother, and a successful pathologist... That photo was not the future Holly had seen. She never wanted kids. She never wanted to marry. She doubted she'd find someone to date, let alone be serious about. And Holly smiled. Because younger-Holly was an absolute fucking twit.
She could have it all.
She could see yourself reflected in another human who learned how to be based on her. Biology be damned. She could see yourself reflected in the joy of someone who loved her in ways she didn't think really happened.
What had Gail said? Holly had shown up and blown out her heart, splattering her guts on the wall, and leaving her gasping for breath, wondering if she'd ever really loved anyone before. In a way, Holly was glad Gail never told her that early on. It would have been daunting and overwhelming. A lot of pressure to be a good girlfriend, and especially a first time girlfriend. But by the time Gail evolved to those words, Holly already knew how much she meant to the petulant and cranky cop.
They didn't need to communicate with words to tell each other how much they loved each other. Which was good, since Gail was still somewhat stunted when it came to expressing her actual feelings. Tapping her watch, Holly sent a heartbeat to Gail. She'd send one to Vivian, though the girl was on patrol and had taken to wearing Gail's 10-year watch while working.
A tapping on her wrist made her smile. Gail sent a heartbeat and a drawn question mark. A simple statement and question. Was Holly okay?
Picking up the phone, Holly tapped Gail's number. She actually did have a question for the blonde. "Hi, honey, did you make it to the dry cleaners at lunch?"
Gail swore. "No, I'm sorry. I think I can squeeze it in-"
"No no, I have the time. I finished my work, so I'll get it. Besides my dress and your uniform jacket, what else am I getting?"
There was a moment of silence while Gail mentally pulled up the list. Over the years, Holly had learned that Gail's memory was triggered by locations as well as situations. The shopping list was easier to recall when standing in the grocery store, and so on. But if she gave Gail enough time, she'd remember the whole list for anything. "Dress, jacket, my red dress, the slacks you wore to our anniversary, the winter pea coats. Oh and Vivian's dress uniform."
Holly blinked, writing that down. "When did Vivian get a dress uniform?" Not everyone had a dress uniform, Holly had learned over the years. Of course Pecks did, but she'd not known Vivian had one.
"Mom got it for her," Gail said blithely. "She's coming to the fancy ball."
"Huh." Holly wondered if her daughter would stand straighter, like Gail did, in that uniform. There was something about it. Even Steve looked classy in it. "Well. Finish yelling at losers and I'll get your pants, Peck."
"I'd rather get in your pants, Stewart." There was a male groan on the phone. "Oh shut up, Simmons. I saw you making out at my anniversary."
"Stop bothering John, honey. I love you."
"Back at ya, sexy. Love you." Gail laughed as she hung up.
Of all the things that had changed in life, Holly was glad Gail's irrepressible nature had not.
"Stop fidgeting."
"It itches," whined Vivian.
Gail closed her eyes and counted to five. "This is your own fault for not learning how to tie a damned tie, child."
Stilling, Vivian sighed. "Okay. Let me try it again."
"Please, before I strangle you." Gail wasn't serious and she knew that Vivian knew it. The girl — young woman — rolled her eyes at Gail. It was driving Gail a little mad, though, especially since Vivian was messing with her phone instead of tying her tie. More snippily than she wanted to be, Gail bit out a question. "Do you want me to walk you through it? Again?"
Exceptionally calmly, Vivian shook her head. "Nope. I'm looking at the diagram... Okay." Staring at her phone intently, the rookie cop carefully mimicked the steps and finally managed to get it done. "So?"
It was good. Begrudgingly Gail nodded. "A full Windsor would be better," she noted.
Making a face, Vivian undid the four-in-hand knot and shook the tie out. "Don't you have to get dressed?"
"I've been tying ties for fifty years, kid. Dad taught me when I was ten."
"Jesus, why?"
"Pecks are cops, sweetheart. And cops wear ties." Gail smirked. "My asshole grandfather hated when they switched rookies to clip-ons."
Vivian snorted. "You are aware that they're insane, right, Mom?"
"Oh, yeah." She watched Vivian carefully tie the knot. "Good enough. I'm gonna get dressed and help zip your mom into her dress."
"Ew, you perv." But she smiled and picked up her jacket. "I'll make one more pot of joe."
"J'adore, mon singe." Gail bounded up the stairs, trying to sort out her feelings of Vivian in a dress uniform.
For the most part, she'd realized that Pecks leaned towards classic, heartbreaker looks. She was a dress girl, and loved to make herself look elegant and classy. Holly liked to dress simply, but slickly. Pantsuits that made her look lean and long, or maybe a dress that gave her a total power dom vibe (and dear god, Gail loved that look). By contrast, Vivian had grown into a very casual cool look. A button down, but over a long sleeved shirt and then she'd throw on suspenders.
Seeing her daughter in a dress uniform like this was weird. Vivian looked less comfortable than she was in her uniform. When in blue, Vivian looked reliable and dependable. Put her in dressy clothes and she still had the demeanor of a child playing dress up. Which Vivian had never done.
Opening the bedroom door, Gail announced herself. "Just me. The monkey is making more coffee."
"Thank god. Zip me up?"
Gail grinned. "I have kick ass timing." She bumped the door closed with her hip and all but danced over to zip Holly up, kissing her shoulder as she did. "I love how you look in blue."
The dress complimented the color of Gail's dress blues, but also flattered the hell out of Holly's skin color. God, Holly was beautiful. "Thank you," laughed Holly. "I need you to be a girl for me, though."
"I'm excellent at that," Gail said, beaming, and taking off her jeans and t-shirt.
"Pick my jewelry out?" Her wife sounded abashed. She'd never gotten the hang of accessorizing. "The blue earrings don't look right."
"Too many blues. Yeah, and not the green. Do the diamonds we got for our tenth. And the necklace." Gail heard Holly hesitate and sighed. Her wife was dithering over wearing the expensive shit to a public service event. "Lunchbox, put it on."
Holly sighed. "I feel …" She paused. "I feel entitled."
"You are entitled, Dr. Stewart." For years Gail had been arguing that, practically speaking, they were entitled people who were lucky enough to have money and education, and that there was nothing wrong with that. They gave back to society in ways most people with money would never consider. Their entire lives were given to literally public service. So they should wear the goddamned diamonds if they wanted to.
"Showy?"
"Holly…" Pinching the bridge of her nose, Gail tried to think why Holly would be so twitchy about it right this moment. It came up once in a while, usually when they were off to some stupid fundraiser for underprivileged people. And yes, Gail agreed it was gauche to wear jewels to those events. Today, she just wanted to make it through the fucking opening ball for Pride Week in one piece. Shake hands with the mayor. Pose for a photo with the new Prime Minister. "Holly, I'm really not equipped to argue with you about this today."
There was a lengthy silence from her wife. Finally Holly exhaled very loudly. "I'm not mad at you."
Well that was always a good thing. "I'm not mad at you. I'm … I'm very thin right now, Holly."
"I know," said Holly, grumbling. "And I'm feeling very snippy so I'm picking a fight. I hate this."
"You're not the one in the monkey suit," noted Gail and immediately regretted it. "Wow. I'm in bitch mode."
Holly gave in to whatever was on her mind and started laughing. That was fairly normal at least. "God, remember when you were a totally self-unaware idiot?"
Glancing over, curiously, Gail saw Holly was sitting on the bed, heels in one hand. "So… last week?"
Holly smirked, narrowing her eyes. "I'm sorry. I really have no idea why I'm annoyed by all this."
And at that, Gail sort of did. "We're probably feeding off each other in our abject hatred of shared experiences," she muttered.
"True. You do hate Pride Week."
"I hate being on stage and clapping my fucking cymbals." Gail pulled her shirt on and started on the buttons. "I hate being a poster child for lesbian success. I hate people pointing at me. I don't get to drink and blow off steam. And its not like I actually suffered being a fucking lesbian. I mean, literally nothing happened. I fell in love with you, and everyone just went 'oh, that makes sense.' And we all moved the fuck on." Huffing, Gail turned and held out her arms. "And I can't fucking button my wrists."
The brunette was smiling a little sadly. She dropped her heels and very gently took Gail's wrist, doing up the buttons slowly. "Your father. And the majority of your father's family."
Gail rolled her eyes. "Small loss. Fuck 'em, they never liked me anyway."
Holly hummed softly and buttoned Gail's other sleeve. "Still."
"No, them being assholes has nothing to do with me being a lady lover, Holly, and you know it. And Dad… well he is a class to himself."
"This feels like our argument about the anniversary party."
Pausing, Gail picked up her tie. "I was wrong about that one."
"You were, yes," agreed Holly. She waked over to the dresser and opened her jewelry box. "Where are the diamonds anyway?"
"Safe." Gail stared at the tie for a moment. "Vivian barely knows how to tie her tie."
"Well she wore a clip on, honey," said Holly, laughingly. "Besides, she's not a tie kind of girl. Suspenders."
Gail found the laughter just snuck its way out. "God, I was thinking that. She's… She's nothing like us."
Conspiratorially, Holly pointed out the obvious. "I heard she was adopted."
Yeah, there it went. Gail's laughter bubbled over. She sat down on the bed, helplessly giggling over something that wasn't even funny. At some point, Holly sat beside her, also laughing stupidly. Finally though, Gail wheezed out a long sigh. "We are insane."
Holly leaned back, her beautiful, quirky, smile crossing her face. "Laughter is the best medicine, honey. And I have an MD, so you can trust me."
Gail giggled. "You're a doctor. Of science!"
Her wife giggled back. "Feel better?" When Gail nodded, Holly nodded and got up. "I'm going to put in my contacts and my earrings."
"I should probably put my pants on."
"Not for my behalf," teased Holly.
"You're not helping." Gail sighed and pulled on the rest of her uniform. By rote, she fixed her tie, clipped it with her twenty year clip, checked her stupid awards on her jacket, and swung it on. When she turned to get her hat, Gail saw Holly smiling at her. "What?"
Holly picked up the hat and held it out. "I love you in uniform. You know that, right?"
Blushing, Gail took the hat. "You're incredibly weird, Holly."
With a shrug, Holly fixed Gail's lapels, brushing off the pin from something or another. "Kiss me and let's go downstairs."
"If we must," Gail sighed, affecting a put upon look. But she kissed Holly, leaning in and savoring the soft, warm, pliant lips for a moment. The stress melted away for a moment as Holly's hands moved to her shoulders, holding her close. It wasn't super sexual, it was just a small moment of having someone in her personal space in a protective, welcome, way.
She felt Holly's lips curve and a second kiss was planted on the corner of her mouth. "I feel better," said Holly, quietly, her forehead bumping the rim of Gail's hat.
With a long, satisfying, exhale, Gail smiled. "I do, too. Can we just do this every time I get bitchy?"
Holly laughed a little and squeezed her arms. "Come on. I want to show you off to people so they can be totally jelly."
"Oh, don't say that. You're too old to say jelly."
"I am not," Holly huffed, indignantly.
They were still teasing each other about age as they headed out to the dance.
"Bonjour, Dr. Stewart. Your wife will be jealous."
Holly startled a little and turned to see a man she'd not lain eyes on in years. "Marcel!" She laughed and hugged the RCMP officer. "Gail would never be jealous of you, Inspector Savard."
The man tsked at her. "Superintendent. I could not let Gail have all the glory."
"Congratulations." She beamed. "Are you back in Ontario for good?"
"Oui. My in-laws are delighted." Marcel rolled his eyes. His husband had been less than thrilled when they'd moved back to Quebec for Marcel's career, as Holly recalled. "So who is that lovely young lady?"
Young lady? Holly was sure she'd misheard Marcel. His accent was quite pronounced, though not as thick as it had been two decades before. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"The woman? Who was hugging you?" He pointed over at where Vivian had wandered to.
And that was when it clicked. "Hugging... Marcel, that's my daughter," she laughed.
The man was stricken. "Vivian?" He blurted something in Québécois patois that Holly hadn't a chance of understanding. "A policier?"
"And a Peck. A lot changed in eight years," teased Holly.
Marcel made a face of indignation. "I remember the little girl who danced with me and Jeffrey."
"Where is your dear husband?" Unlike the rest of them, Jeffrey was an artist and had no interest in the police.
"I lost him an hour ago to the chanteuse." There had been a lovely singer earlier in the night. It was no surprise that she was being mobbed. "A Peck as well. Mon duei. She makes me feel old."
Holly snorted. "You are five years younger than Gail. I was your age when we adopted."
The childless Marcel looked thoughtful. "I may try that approach... Jeffrey has been adamant about no children."
"Don't push it," Holly cautioned. "It's not for everyone. And watching them grow up and move out hurts."
"Yet your daughter ..." He stopped. "Is she here for Gail? As a guest again?"
One thing Holly had always liked about Marcel was how sharp he was. "Have you ever met Jen Luck or Frankie Anderson?" When he made a face, Holly laughed. "Vivian's here because Gail thinks she'll be less embarrassing than those two. Also Viv skipped out last year."
"Ah! So she too... Well. That child is tres chanceux." He shook his head. "I am amazed."
"So am I," admitted Holly, and they laughed.
"You're really weird, Mom." Vivian held two glasses and a plate of snacks. "Hey, Superintendent Savard. Nice to see you again."
Holly took one glass. "How on earth did you know that?"
Impishly, Vivian gestured at the man's collar. "I can read his rank." To Marcel she added, "Elaine, Gail's mom, taught me."
"And how does Elaine, Gail's mom, feel about you as a police officer, young lady?"
"She thinks I'm naive, but she loves me." Vivian offered the glass. "Is Mom talking your ear off?"
"Thank you." Marcel grinned and took the glass. "I enjoy your mother's company. She's one of the smartest people I know."
Vivian laughed. "She's the smartest one I know." The younger officer tossed a whole canapé into her mouth.
Smiling, Marcel took a bite from Vivian's plate. "Is this your first attending on your own?"
"Yeah, Mom kinda made me promise. Last year Frankie got drunk and made out with some married woman."
Holly arched her eyebrows. "Who told you about that?"
"Frankie." Vivian shrugged. "She also said not to get loaded. And offered to introduce me to some, and I'm quoting here, 'hot chicks.' How has she not been a public disaster?"
"Gail keeps her off the news." Holly smirked. Most of their friends still treated Vivian like a niece, regardless of the girl's current position on the force. She was the kid for a horde of childless cops, from Andy and Nick down to, yes, even Frankie and Lisa.
Seeing Marcel at the gala made for a much nicer than expected night. Gail came to hide with them for a while, before being dragooned into her speech. After the speeches and dessert, Gail proposed they desert. Vivian offered to cover, since she wasn't going back to their place anyway. Which meant they had the place to themselves.
And that indeed made up for the tiff earlier in the night.
Holly smiled as she watched Gail come back to herself. The blonde's hair was stuck up and sweaty, her eyes were open but not really focused. It reminded her of the first time they'd had sex. Gail had lain there, catching her breath and only able to say that they were doing that again, and that men sucked.
"Good to know I'm not in the dog house," said Gail, her voice long and low and breathy.
"Never." She leaned in and kissed the corner of Gail's lips.
Gail hummed softly and reached up to brush Holly's hair back. "Sometimes."
"Not often." Holly kissed the other corner of Gail's lips. "Not often."
The soft, pale hands traced down her face and smoothed over her arms. "Will you watch me on the float?"
"Will you be in uniform?"
"White shirt and all."
Holly sighed happily. "You are incredibly hot in that uniform. Maybe you could wear it home?"
Her wife laughed, playfully shoving Holly off of her. "You have such a lady boner for me in uniform."
"You're hot! And powerful... I think it's more of a domination thing." Holly stretched out, letting her limbs reach their fullest extreme and then she settled into the blankets. "Not like a punishment thing, but I like when you're in charge. I mean, I like it when you..." She gestured with her hands above her, struggling for the right words.
"You mean you like it when I'm butch."
Holly squinted at Gail. "Shut up."
Gail smirked. "I think you're sexy in your lab coat." Sitting up, Gail stretched her arms up until there was a soft pop. "And in your baseball crap. And those tight jeans you still wear, because you're an asshole and you know I love how your butt looks in them." Gail turned to the side and looked at Holly, smirking. "Makes me want to wipe the smirk off your face in a fun way."
"Oh? What's a fun way?" Holly knew the answer, but she still smiled. No. She smirked.
She knew Gail knew she knew. And when Gail moved to sit on Holly's hips, smiling broadly, Holly was sure. And Gail was right. It was a fun way to have that silly, smirky, smug look wiped off her face.
It felt unromantic to be scrolling through her phone on a date, but it was a necessity. And besides, Jamie was doing it too. The brown haired firefighter frowned. "Okay, so this whole week is just a loss for you."
"And next week you're on?"
"Yeah. So .. Week after that? I'm on three, off two, on four, off five. So that could work."
"I thought my schedule was weird." Vivian sighed. "Yeah... Shit no. That Saturday is my uncle's retirement party."
Jamie grimaced. "I hate your job. Is that okay?"
"I hate yours, it's only fair." She smiled shyly at Jamie and was rewarded by a million watt grin. "So. Our schedules don't match up for a month?" How annoying. Vivian shoved her phone back into her pocket.
"August," Jamie lamented and picked up her coffee cup. "Maybe we can squeeze dinner or a movie or..." She suddenly blushed. "Okay, why is it awkward to have this conversation?"
It took Vivian a moment to catch on. "The sex one?" Jamie blushed more. "I'm not sure. It always is though." She wiped her toast through the last of her eggs and wondered how her parents had navigated that one. Knowing Gail, she probably got undressed and asked Holly why she was still wearing clothes. Vivian sighed. She'd never be as casual and smooth as Gail was.
Jamie huffed. "See this is why my dating life sucks. Sometimes I think I should take Ruby's advice and just drag you home."
"Ruby?" That wasn't what Vivian had wanted to say. She'd been thinking that Jamie wanted to have sex with her, and quite honestly it was mutual. But what came out was fixation on the name. Of course.
"My roommate and heterosexual life partner."
Vivian snorted a laugh. Her question had really been that Jamie talked to Ruby about them and sex. "Christian would say that."
"Is he your best friend?"
Hesitating, Vivian shrugged. "He'd say so. We're ... It's a weird story. But he's like a cousin." And Vivian wasn't sure if he was a best friend. She didn't confide in him like she had in Olivia, until that disastrous ending. No. The person who felt like a best friend had to be Matty. "My best friend lives in New York. He's in fashion."
Jamie grinned. "Good place for it. Ruby and I have been friends since forever." She laughed into a story about how a boy had licked Ruby's face, and Ruby had beaten him up, as much as an eight year old could. And Jamie had been in trouble as well for running in the halls and they became best friends. "So how'd you meet ... Um... What's his name?"
"Matty. Elementary school. I was the new kid and he... He's Matty." She shrugged and tapped a photo of the last time Matty had been in Canada. As a surprise, he'd come to her academy graduation. Someone had snapped the photo of Vivian laughing with an arm around Matty's shoulders.
"Aw, he's adorable."
"He's the sweetest guy," said Vivian, smiling.
Abruptly, Jamie changed the subject back. "I do want to sleep with you. I'm just... You know, my exes all think I'm crazy. I'm ..."
"Gun shy?" Vivian nodded. "I get it."
Relived, Jamie nodded back. "I just have a really bad track record. And I'm totally saying the stupidest things, aren't I? You don't want to hear all about my exes who dump me because I have a crazy job and weird hours and I'm too butch for them-"
Vivian reached over and covered Jamie's hand with one of hers. "Hey. It's okay." She watched Jamie bite her lip, adorably. "The last girl I slept with after the third date dumped me over text. I'm totally cool with the whole slow thing."
"Wow. Text?"
"Apparently I was the other woman." Vivian shrugged. No doubt, when Gail heard about the details, she'd hoot and laugh. Not at Vivian, but at the situation. Then again, Gail had slept with Nick on the first date, and Chris before they were really dating, and Holly... Well that was just odd all around. So Gail could shut up.
And besides, Vivian would have to explain to her mother that she was dating a firefighter. Technically this was their third date. And one could argue that they could have squeezed in a quickie or something in the time they'd spent seeing a movie or having dinner.
Except they had roommates. Ruby and Christian were both at their respective homes right now. In fact, Christian had been pinging her for an hour, asking where the hell she was. Which was why Vivian ignored her phone ringing to listen to Jamie tell her about her last date, which ended with a comment about blue collar workers. It was funnier to Vivian, that was probably for certain.
"You gonna answer that?" Jamie gestured at the ringing from Vivian's pocket.
"It's just C. He probably can't find the coffee." But Vivian raised her wrist and looked at the watch face. Sgt. Andy. "Shit..." She shoved her free hand into her pocket and answered. "Peck."
"I'm not even going to ask why the hell you're not answering your phone. I need you to come in early and guard a church. Someone made death threats."
"Yes, ma'am. But... I'm parade detail tomorrow."
"It won't be all day. Just rotating you forward a half shift."
Stifling a sigh, Vivian nodded. At least she'd be off sooner and get some rest before the parade. "Right. I'll be at the station in... Uh. Twenty minutes."
Andy paused. "Oh. That's why Christian doesn't know where you are."
"I'm having breakfast, Sarge," said Vivian, in her best Peck deadpan. With a laugh, Andy told her to get in as soon as she could. "I'm sorry," Vivian told Jamie.
"Work happens... Your sergeant sounds awful personal."
"She's kind of my aunt. One of my mom's ... Um. Good friends." If she dared call Andy a best friend, no matter how true it was, Gail would flip her shit. Then Vivian realized she could shorthand in a way Jamie would totally understand. "They were rookies together."
With a soft 'ah,' Jamie smiled. She got it. "I'm going to get the story of you being a legacy out of you one of these days."
Digging out her wallet, Vivian rolled her eyes. "Its not very interesting. Pecks are cops. That's just how it goes."
"There has to be more. I bet your other mom, the doctor, wasn't super thrilled. I mean, hello, my mom's a teacher. She couldn't be more disappointed I like to run into burning buildings."
Vivian felt cheeky. "When you put it that way, it sounds real stupid." She put down cash for half the bill. "I'm sorry to dine and ditch."
"Hey, work calls when it calls. I'm gonna finish my coffee and go. Be safe out there."
"You too. Text me if you get any downtime?"
The smile from the firefighter made Vivian feel warm in all the best ways. "Emoji wars are on." There was an awkward moment and then they kissed, very quickly, and Vivian grinned and blushed.
Vivian was still grinning when she got to the church at Queen and Cowan. She knew St. Julian's Church a little. Gail had taken Vivian there as a teen a few times, for softball games and reach-out events. Which was why she knew the greying priest by name, and vice versa.
"Officer Peck," greeted the priest.
"Hey, Father Solaine. Pissing off homophobes again?"
He smile at her. "Saw the flag?"
The front of the church was adorned with a gay pride flag and a banner announcing they cared. "It's a nice flag. I liked the banner." She hooked her thumbs in her belt. "So how serious were the threats?"
Father Solaine rolled his eyes. "I didn't call. That was Monique. Just the usual death threats."
A young woman, about Vivian's age, snorted. "He dismisses everything."
Conspiratorially, Vivian replied, "He's always been like that. Even when they set things on fire."
"Hah! I know that story. You our guard?"
"Just here to scare off the simple folk." Vivian shrugged.
"And you're okay with a gay loving, former gang running priest?" It was clear that Monique was testing to see if Vivian would be trouble. Baiting her. It happened. Vivian sighed and tried to think of a reply that wouldn't be picking a fight.
Father Jean Pierre Solaine cleared his throat. "Monique. I've known Vivian for years."
The assistant's eyes widened. "Oh."
"Not like that," said Vivian. "Father Solaine's in tight with Fifteen."
"You used to help make the hot dogs at the softball games." The old priest looked wistful. "We're thinking of starting that up again. Think your mothers would come?"
If Monique hadn't heard the plural, she caught on by Vivian's reply. "Holly would. Gail might, but don't ask her to play. She ceded that duty last year."
"The perils of your profession." Father Solaine nodded, sagely. "I have some donuts and coffee."
"I love church coffee," Vivian said, in her best deadpan.
"You don't walk into a church voluntarily."
Arching her eyebrows, Vivian pointed out the obvious. "I was raised buy an atheist and an antichrist. I had no hope, Father. Just be happy the place doesn't burst into flames when I walk in."
"Well, as your mother's daughter, donuts are probably your national dish." He grinned and gestured to the table.
Sure, she'd rather be spending the day with her girlfriend, but as priests went, Father Solaine wasn't so bad.
"Do you have to be so ... Rough? You're manhandling me here, kid."
But her daughter ignored her complaints. "You get burned and I will never hear the end of it from Mom. And no offense? She scares me more."
Gail sighed and let Vivian coat her in sunblock. "I'm in long sleeves and a hat. Isn't that enough?" She was in her white shirt and uniform. Any time she was on the floats, she was in uniform. That was just how it went. Stupid cotton-poly blends.
"How red were you two years ago?"
"Shut up," growled Gail. "Let me get my face."
Vivian smirked and wiped her hands on Gail's cheeks. "Sure. Have fun!"
Gail was still cursing at her daughter three hours later as the parade finally started the last turn home. One more year in the bag. Tonight was a party at Lisa's. A new housewarming party for the place she and Kate had bought. They still weren't married. They were never going to get married at this point. But they had filled out a billion forms and papers to ensure they had all the legal rights. Finally, after twenty years, Gail conceded Holly had been right. Getting married was easier.
It still wasn't how Gail wanted to spend her night. A repeat of the night before would be nice. Certainly many things were preferable to suffering to the cacophony that these kids called music, dancing and probably doing drugs that Gail was better off not knowing about at all the stupid parties Vivian would patrol. And for that, yes, a night with BitchTits and Co. was an improvement. But hell, anything would be better than the stupid parade.
She regretted the thought much later, though Gail only told Holly.
It started with spotting a familiar pair of faces marching by her.
"Junior, why are you here?"
Her daughter looked up and smiled. "I'm supposed to keep Father Solaine out of trouble."
That was when Gail spotted the second face. "Hey, JP."
The older man laughed. "Inspector. Nice to see you again."
"Isn't your group supposed to be back by the marching bands?" She'd inadvertently memorized the layouts of the various groups.
It was Vivian who sighed dramatically. "We had to shuffle them. He picked a fight."
"Really, JP? Again?"
The priest shrugged. "They were saying unkind things and trying to cut in."
When Gail glanced at her daughter for explanation, Vivian nodded. "Homophobic church versus Father Soliane."
Gail smirked. "Winner and still champion? Who let the crazy Christians in anyway?"
"I can't keep 'em out," pointed out Vivian, practically. The Pride Parade had fought for inclusion a decade ago, saying anyone who showed up should be allowed to march. "They had acceptable signs right up until we passed the curve. Then, boom, lotta crazies."
"Oh see that's smart," said Gail. "Clever even."
Vivian rolled her eyes and tilted her head to her radio. "And they're spitting at people. Awesome. Father Solaine, can you please stay here with the float?"
With an easy smile, the priest agreed. "It's very odd to have my own personal bodyguard," he told Gail.
"Better you than me. Next year, though, I'm getting her on the damn float and taking a year off."
"She's a good kid, you know."
Gail smiled and was about to tell Jean Pierre that her kid was awesome.
Instead, she looked past him and at the crowd.
It was years of policing that had her looking the right way at the right time. She felt something was wrong with a participant. A man, shorter than Jean Pierre, Caucasian, wearing a black hoodie and baggy gym shorts. He looked out of place. And then his hand moved. No, his arm moved. He stepped across the line and right up to the priest.
Three shots rang out.
Jean Pierre doubled over and fell to the ground.
The shooter ran.
Of all the times not to have her radio. Gail swore and scrambled off the float, pulling her phone out as she ran. "Call central," she shouted at the phone. It picked up on the first ring. "Central! 8727, 10-33, shots fired at the parade." She gave her location and skidded to a stop by the priest. He was still breathing.
"Gail! Can you ID the guy?" Vivian, dripping with sweat already, came up at a dead run.
Gail recited the description, for Vivian who relayed it on her radio, and central. Then she pointed. "He went through the crowd, up—"
"Got it!" And Vivian took off like the exercise junkie she was. "Dispatch, 4727 in pursuit."
But Gail didn't watch her daughter run. She carefully rolled Jean Pierre onto his back. "Damn it, JP."
Pressing her hands to the wound, Gail looked around the crowd. She wanted to shout for a tampon, to save the bastard's life like she had Marlo's. But as Gail felt the blood pool and seep through the knees of her uniform, she knew the reality of the day was that the priest was going to die.
"Not gonna make it," wheezed Jean Pierre.
"I'm really tired of people dying on me, priest." He laughed at her. "Tell me you saw him and know who the hell shot you."
Jean Pierre Solaine shook his head. "Sorry. Bandana."
He had a bandana? Gail hadn't seen that. Damn. "Just shut up for now, okay? A bus is coming. You're gonna be fine. MacLean's on today, and she's fucking awesome."
Even so, MacLean wasn't a god. By the time the scene was cleared and the ambulance showed up, the priest was dead.
She hugged Gail and Vivian close, not caring at all that there was still blood on Gail and Vivian was sweaty. "Mom," muttered Vivian.
"Hush," cautioned Gail.
Holly squeezed them closer. "Can you both please stop getting shot at?"
Gail hugged back. "No one shot at us, Holly."
Technically she knew that. Still. Shots were fired. Her wife and daughter had been in the vicinity. "You could have been hurt."
Giving in, Vivian hugged her back. "I have to go talk to Mac, Mom. Mom, stay here. Okay? I need your statement."
While Holly let go of Vivian but not Gail, the inspector grumbled. "I don't like being on this side of it."
"Yeah, well you're the only witness I trust, okay?" Vivian stepped back.
Holly took a long look at her daughter. Vivian was a little grimy and sweaty. There was visible salt lines on her collar and a smear of something on her face. "Drink some coconut water please."
Vivian rolled her eyes. "I will. Promise." And the girl was off.
Gail sighed and kissed Holly's forehead. "I'm fine, Holly. You didn't need to come to the hospital."
Except she did. Holly and Rachel had been watching the parade from the safe comfort of Lisa and Kate's new condo. They'd waved at various people, Holly watching for Gail, when they heard the screams. Not the shots. Suddenly the cops were swarming over the place, ushering people out of the way and explaining the parade was being canceled due to an emergency.
That was when Holly saw a form she knew very well, running in a different direction. Never before had Holly seen Vivian run like a cop. There was something about the stance that shocked and sobered her. Vivian was chasing a perp. Someone had done something outright horrible.
Opening the private app the police department used, Holly had pulled up the reports and paled. A shooting. And the name Peck was all over it. But not Vivian. Inspector Peck was listed as being on scene and then being rushed by ambulance to the ER. The report was muddled, but at that point, Holly had run out the door telling everyone else to stay inside and she'd call them.
When she'd seen Gail, covered in blood, lying on a gurney, she'd panicked. The world had gone a little blurry on the edges and she'd pushed past nurses and doctors only to find Gail was just having her blood pressure taken. Then it was Holly was had to be helped to sit down and have her own vitals checked. Gail sat beside her, smiling, holding her hand and repeating over and over that she was fine, that it wasn't her blood.
A very grubby and perplexed Vivian had found them like that, leading to the massive family hug.
"I did," she told Gail. "I did have to come here."
"I know how much you hate the ER." Gail steered Holly to a bench and sat with her.
Refusing to let go completely, Holly gripped Gail's hand. "We need to talk to whomever dispatch assigns to writing the internal alerts. They said officer involved shooting and listed your name. And I knew you didn't have a gun."
Gail looked surprised. "Wow. Yeah, no no." She tugged at the collar of the scrub top. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine now," said Holly, her voice a mutter. "Scrubs aren't flattering by the way."
Her wife coughed a laugh. "Not my choice. They took my uniform." Holly laughed as well and leaned into Gail. Reflexively, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. "You okay? I'm gonna be stuck here until my statement."
Holly nodded. "It's okay." She closed her eyes. "I'm glad I'm not a real doctor."
"I knew you were faking it all these years," Gail said, teasing.
That was part of why it was easier. The teasing made it easier to smile and laugh at Gail. Easier to laugh at herself. "I mean a hospital doctor."
"Sure you did." Gail squeezed her for a moment.
They sat like that for a while, quiet. Gail hummed softly, her voice a soothing and comforting sound. Once, when Gail had struggled through a particularly rough week, Holly had woken up and found the cop singing to herself in the office. That had been years and years ago.
Never once had Holly mentioned it. They hadn't even been married at the time. She'd let Gail keep the pain private back then. Things were different now, though. And just like Gail's ways of dealing with her damage had evolved, so had Holly's. At first it was plain avoidance, keeping out of hospitals. Then she'd spent a week working in one, in part to keep her credentials up to date, but also to try and get over her fear.
Currently the truth was simple. Holly did not like hospitals. Her last mammogram had been a hoot, trying not to have a panic attack while having a cancer scare.
"What's going on in that big, sexy, brain of yours, Stewart?"
"I'm glad my boobs are alright."
Her wife barked a laugh. "Is that the last time we were here?" Three mammograms, an ultrasound, and a biopsy later, the result had been that Holly had a dense fibroid tumor, which they then removed. Benign. Normal. Nothing to worry about.
"Yeah," said Holly softly. "I didn't come when Vivian dislocated her shoulder."
Gail made a noise. "Oh right. When she fell off the ... Watcha call it?"
"Double Salmon Ladder."
"Right. That." Gail shook her head. "Before that it was her appendix. I think she was annoyed about that one."
"She was mad it was laparoscopic. She wanted the cool scar." Holly smirked. That time, Elaine had taken Vivian to the ER. They'd been up at the cabin, enjoying a midweek trip, when Elaine called to explain that their teenager called her because she was throwing up, had a fever, and pain on her right side, and Elaine had taken her the hospital, but could they okay surgery.
Gail hmmmed softly. "Thank god Mom was around. And I never thought I'd say that."
"She would have called Oliver. Or an ambulance. She's a smart cookie, our kid."
"Logical and calculating. She gets that from you."
Holly smiled. "Headstrong and brave. That's you." As soon as she said it, Holly realized something. Shooting or not, Gail would go back to the parade the next year. She sighed. "You're going to go back next year."
Gail hesitated. "Yes."
What was the first lesson she'd learned about loving Gail? Holly knew that Gail Peck was a brave, loyal, self-sacrificing hero. And it didn't matter how scared anyone was. If the right thing to do was to go back out there and stand up and be seen, then Gail did just that. Sometimes that meant Gail put the lives of other people in front of herself, and her wife, and their daughter.
Honestly, Holly detested that. She hated that Gail would put her and Vivian second. But at the same time, it was the first truth she'd accepted from Gail. While Gail called it a job, it was really her life. And Holly accepted that. She took this as Gail's life.
"Well. I'm coming with you next year." When Gail startled, Holly explained, "I can't freak out about what happens without me if I'm with you."
Gail grunted. "Stop being reasonable."
"Sorry," said Holly, smiling.
They didn't say anything else about it then. Vivian, looking a little cleaner, came back with two bottles of coconut water and one of Gatorade. The young officer then proceeded to take Gail's statement, writing everything down incredibly quickly, reading it back, and finally she told Holly to please take her wife home.
Holly did not argue authority when it was right, even if it came in the form of someone whom she used to harangue to shower. Bundling Gail into the car, Holly sighed. "Is that weird to you too? Viv being in charge?"
"A little." Gail buckled in. "Please take me home. This shit itches. How the hell did you wear scrubs through school?"
"We washed them first to break them in. She took notes fast."
"Well, she doesn't have an Elaine Peck trained memory." Gail yawned. "Her handwriting is shit, though."
"She was writing shorthand." Holly eyed her wife. "Wait. You don't know shorthand? I know something you don't?"
"Holly, you know a lot of things I don't."
"Medical doesn't count!" Holly laughed.
Gail rolled her eyes. "Okay, how did you recognize it?"
"Lisa used to take notes in it. Taught me and Rachel on spring break."
"And now I know how nerds spend spring break," said Gail, teasing.
"Remind me why I was worried about you?" She knew Gail was just deflecting and being her antagonistic self because she was still a little on edge. It was much better than when Gail was actually shot at, but dealing with people dying in front of you was never easy.
Smiling, Gail reached over and put a hand on Holly's thigh. "I'm okay, Holly. A little wired. I know we're supposed to have that party at Lisa and Kate's tonight, but can we pass?"
"I already called and canceled," assured Holly. "When you were talking to John." Not that Lisa had questioned the change in plans. She'd seen Holly bolt out and had only asked if the bitchy cop was okay. As antagonistic as Gail and Lisa could be, they were friends now.
"Thank god. Have I mentioned I love you?"
"Not in the last couple hours, no." Holly smiled at her wife. "You okay?"
Gail was quiet for a moment. "No. I'm gonna call the doctor, though. See if I can get in this week or next." From experience, they both knew if Gail said the magic words "work related" than the therapist's office would move heaven and earth to get her in.
"That sounds good," said Holly, decisively.
Closing her eyes, Gail leaned back in her seat. Holly knew that meant she wanted to be quiet for a while, and that was okay. This wasn't avoidance, it was just Gail processing everything. Avoidance Gail shut down and ignored everything. Contemplative and processing Gail would talk and ask questions, but also lapse into that comfortable quiet that Holly had always loved.
At home, Gail went for the shower first, declaring a need to get the last bit of blood off her. Holly gave her space and went downstairs to try and figure out dinner. As she stared into the fridge, the garage door opening startled her. "What the hell?" Holly closed the fridge and listened to the unmistakable sound of her daughter's motorcycle.
A moment later, Vivian opened the door from the garage. "Oh thank god you have the AC on. It's hot as balls out there."
Holly stared at the young woman. "How would you know?"
"Theoretically." She stuck her tongue out. "Here, take this." She held out a grocery bag.
"What… what is this?" Holly did take the bag and look in. Fresh vegetables, some hunks of meat.
Pulling off her riding jacket with a whoof, Vivian pushed her sweat damp hair out of her face. "Grilling food. I can make some grill bread too. Mom likes that."
"No, I know what the food is, you idiot. Why is it, and you, here?"
Vivian stared at her. "Because today sucked and you're probably not going to spend all night screwing, so I thought I'd make you guys dinner and hang out and make it more normal." She paused and added, "If you want, I can stay tonight." Vivian looked thoughtful and tentative.
It took Holly a moment to catch up to the question. The young Peck was not asking for her own sake but for Holly's. Or maybe Gail's. "I think we're okay, honey."
Vivian nodded. "Well I'm staying for dinner."
"That was a given," said Holly, smiling. "Thank you."
"Hey, just because I moved out doesn't mean I won't drop everything for you."
Holly sighed. "I'm going to hug you, okay?"
"Sure." Vivian put her phone down and not only let Holly hug her without protest, but she wrapped her long arms around and squeezed her tightly. "Mom, I love you."
Sighing, Holly leaned into her daughter. "When did you become the grownup?"
"You're just comparing me to mom."
Holly laughed and kissed Vivian's forehead. "Probably true."
Somewhat seriously, though, Vivian went on. "Sometimes it's okay for you not to be the grownup all the time, Mom. It's ... We're family, right? Let me help." Holly stared at her daughter, surprised and a little misty eyed. "Go check on Mom. She's probably having one of those 'I'm not the one shot' things. Hide the scissors. I'll take care of food and we can watch a stupid movie or something."
Giving Vivian one last squeeze, Holly went back up the stairs. She found Gail, dressed in sweats, pulling on some socks. "Is that the kid?"
"Yeah, she's going to grill and wants to watch a movie."
Gail grunted. "How the hell did we luck out?"
"I think karma owed us." Holly smiled and held out her hands. "Come on. Let's be a normal family for a couple hours."
"Do you even know how to do normal, Stewart?" But Gail smiled and went downstairs.
Normal. For one night.
"It's sweet that you're taking care of your parents."
"Really? You're not just saying that and planning to dump me later?"
Jamie laughed over the phone. "No. I think it's nice. You love your parents and you're not ashamed to say it. Meanwhile I love mine, but I think it's more mutual tolerance, helped by an hour drive."
With a smile, Vivian stretched out over her bed and looked up at the ceiling. She did love her old bedroom still, even if it felt a bit weird to be back there. There was a creak outside her room. "I do. They're pretty awesome. Hang on a second." Vivian tapped mute. "Mom, go to bed."
Her door opened and Holly's head poked in. "You sure you want to stay?"
"Mom, come on."
Holly saw the phone and arched her eyebrows. "Sorry."
"It's cool. And yes, I'm sure I want to stay tonight."
Her mother smiled. "Okay. Gail would say thank you, but she fell asleep."
That was a relief. Vivian sat up. "Good. Go sleep with her, Mom. She sleeps better with you."
Holly rolled her eyes. "Love you, kid. Night. Tell Matty I say hi."
"Love you too, Mom." She waited for the door to close before tapping un-mute. "Sorry. Mom's being hovering. And since Mom- Gail- went to sleep, she's hovering over me."
"That makes sense, kinda. But you know… They are adults."
Vivian hesitated. "Yeah. Mom's just been a cop forever, though. And … "
Wisely, Jamie suggested, "And cops don't sleep well? I get it. But… Just remember we're the kids, okay?"
An interesting comment. "That for me or yourself?"
"Oh. Both." Jamie sighed. "Do your parents ever listen to the oldies?"
"Jazz mostly. Why?"
"My dad loves Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Like, has every single album. In record format."
Vivian laughed softly. "Wow. Gail's got 'em in MP3s. I made her a media server for the house."
"Lucky. I can't computer like that," giggled Jamie.
"So. What about the old guys?"
"Oh! Right, so there's this song, 'Teach Your Children,' I've heard it a million times. And there's a line that goes like this. Teach your children well, their father's hell did slowly go by."
When Jamie didn't finish the song, Vivian snorted. "Cheerful. And I'll have you know I do know that song. You forgot the second verse."
"What?"
"That's the one that tells you to help your parents with your youth and to teach your parents well. Feed them on your dreams."
Jamie was quiet for a bit. "See that upsets the whole parent/child dynamic. The responsibility isn't supposed to be the kid's."
"Yeah, gotta disagree. Family is a shared thing."
The firefighter made a noise. "Okay, fine. I'll buy that one. And on that strange note, I'm going to sleep."
"I should too," admitted Vivian. "Night."
"I'll text you tomorrow before shift. Good night."
Vivian hung up and sighed, putting the phone on her stomach. Even if she'd been home, it wasn't like she was going to be sleeping with Jamie. Girlfriend? Maybe. She stared at the ceiling and the galaxy she and Brian had painted for one of her birthdays. It was fairly accurate too. They'd projected actual photos from the cottage onto the ceiling and painted over it. She smiled and tossed her phone onto the charging mat. Closing her eyes to her glow in the dark ceiling, Vivian drifted off to the comfortable sounds of the house of her childhood.
When Gail stepped on the loose board in the hall, Vivian woke up like she always did. The sounds of the house were so familiar and normal. She waited a while before rolling out of bed and making her way down to the living room. Nothing needed to be said. Gail pushed a controller over, Vivian spun up Bowser, and they played quietly in the summer dawn.
Around six, Gail finally spoke. "What time is your shift?"
"Eight. And I have my uniform so I can go from here." Gail nodded, throwing a bomb at Vivian. "Damn it, Mom!"
While Gail giggled like a child, Holly's voice came down the stairs. "I don't know what else I expect from you two."
"She used the bomb!"
A warm hand gently shoved her head, and then Gail's. "I take back what I said about you being an adult." Holly sighed. "And you all want coffee."
"Please," said Gail and Vivian as one.
Vivian was the only one to go into work that day. Obviously Gail was off because of the shooting, and Holly took a day off for sanity. That would of course turn into Holly working from home, like she did, because Holly felt guilty. But that was Holly. She cared a great deal.
At the precinct, Vivian was waylaid by Andy as soon as she got in. "Peck, my office. Now."
Inside was Frankie, looking a little more relaxed than Vivian would have expected. The detective spoke first. "How's Gail?"
"Fine," said Vivian, looking at Frankie and then Andy.
Andy shook her head. "Don't bother, Frankie. She won't give you details. She's the anti-Steve."
Frankie sighed. "Fine. How far did you chase that kid?"
"I lost him at the drag queen stage, so ... Three blocks?"
The detective nodded and held a tablet up. Vivian took it and skimmed the report. "We found the gun last night. Or two drunk boys found the gun. Ballistics are a match."
"Damn, that's lucky." Vivian looked at the report. "So we just have to find the guy?" As if it was that easy.
"Yes but that isn't why you're here." Frankie perched on Andy's desk. "You were at the church two days ago and the parade yesterday. Do you remember anything?"
Vivian handed the tablet back and looked down to think. "No one showed up at the church on my shift. I didn't see anything at the parade, but I got distracted by the anti-gay protesters."
"All the witnesses have the guy coming from their direction. Do you think he was with them?" Frankie was calm.
Sometimes Vivian forgot Frankie was a great detective. She knew the woman better as the kind of slutty friend of her parents, who once dated Lisa back before Vivian was adopted. And Frankie was the woman who took her shopping a couple times, helping Vivian sort out her own style. Shopping trips with Frankie and Chloe was always an adventure. Vivian was always certain that Frankie was six seconds from killing or kissing Chloe, and never quite sure which.
That thought she kept private. It was never voiced, except to her mothers whom she told everything.
"No," said Vivian slowly, thinking hard about the day. "If he'd been with them, he would have been dressed like the protesters. They all had on the same t-shirt. He had a pullover hoodie." She looked up at Frankie. "He ditched the hoodie at the drag show. Cindy Sarcasm said he had on a blue pride shirt, and she only noticed because he hit her with the sweatshirt."
Andy laughed. "Cindy Sarcasm?"
"Aka Alan Amaral," said Frankie. "He's a popular drag performer. Headlines at the Lucky Richard."
"I'm going to regret asking." Andy sighed. "Lucky Richard?"
"Richard. Rick. Dick. Lucky Dick..." Frankie smirked and Andy looked a little appalled. "You should get out more."
"To drag clubs?"
Vivian grinned. "She went to the Flipside, you know. With Chloe for her bachelorette party."
Frankie nodded. "You didn't go?"
"I babysat, being underage and all." Vivian knew Frankie knew that, but it was fun to see her wince at the reminder. "Did they get any useful DNA?"
"No," said Frankie with a sigh. "Nothing to compare it to. If we get him, though."
Vivian nodded. "So...? I'm benched because he might recognize me?"
"Not entirely. You and Fuller are going to go check out the church video footage and recordings from the parade."
She didn't bother to disguise her sigh. Christian had pulled the shift after hers at the church. "See if we can spot the guy, right." Vivian stepped back, ready to leave, when Andy held up a hand.
"Viv. This is me asking as Gail's friend. Is she really okay?"
Hesitantly, Vivian looked from Andy to Frankie and then back. She chewed her lower lip for a moment and then sighed. "Okay... As Gail's daughter, I'm not comfortable talking about my moms like this." Her mother's nightmares were not Andy's business. "She's at home. Call her. Or stop by with donuts."
There was a heartbeat and then Frankie started laughing. "Kid's got you there!" She swatted Vivian's arm. "Go change and get to parade, Peck."
Vivian smirked and got all the way to her locker before her phone pinged.
Do u have Mac's number
She stared at the message and the name. Then she smirked and tapped in a message to a different number.
Apparently Det. Anderson from yesterday wants your digits. Still single?
The reply from Mackenzie MacLean came hours later, well into video hell, asking for a picture of the detective. Once Vivian sent it, there was a thumbs up emoji.
If she couldn't solve a crime, at least she could get Frankie laid.
"No luck on the shooter?" Vivian shook her head and Gail watched her daughter fix her tie. "Well. This may just be an unanswered mystery."
"I hate those, Mom," complained her daughter.
"We all do. Your mother more than most."
Vivian sighed and then looked at her watch. "Is it frustrating? I mean, more frustrating when you know the people?"
Gail sighed and picked at her own tie. "Yes. Yes it is. It's harder if you know them really well. And if you like them." The hardest had been Chris, hands down. Not a single death, before or since, had wrecked her like that. Weeks later, she wondered if she'd made the wrong choice. Maybe if she'd gone to Jerry's funeral that feeling would be different, but probably not. Jerry wasn't her fault. Chris was her decision. She understood the difference. "You don't have to go out there, you know."
Her daughter frowned. "I'm hoping the killer shows up."
Snorting a laugh, Gail shook her head. "Not likely, kid."
"I know. I know." Leaning on the desk, Vivian sighed. "It annoys me more than the arson, killing Father Solaine. It's just a dick move. I mean, he's a priest."
"JP was pretty cool." Gail glanced at her watch. "Okay, let's go. Please stop putting your hands in your pockets."
They walked out of the back office and to the waiting room of the church. A few other police officers were scattered around. A few familiar faces in the civilians too. Vivian went to talk to one of the volunteers, a girl her age she'd apparently met before. Right away she put her hands in her pockets and Gail groaned.
A woman laughed behind her. "Wow, she really is your kid."
Gail scowled. "I never stood like that." The taller Peck was slightly hunched forward, in a vain attempt to lessen her height. With shoes on, Vivian was over six-two. Maybe she was trying to minimize her presence, to seem less foreboding.
"Did too. That was your 'you can trust me, I'm a cop' stance. You did it at the station."
That was probably true. "You lean back for that one." There was a psychology to it as well. Leaning back made people feel like you opened up to them. "Speaking of... I'm a cop, won't hanging with me blow your cover?"
"Everyone here doesn't care. Besides, I'm long in the tooth for the skeleton business."
Gail looked at Jordan Lewis a little sadly. If Gail was fifty, which she sadly was a year over, then Jordan was nearing forty. "Thinking of retiring? Going straight?"
The former gang member shrugged. "I got a steady now."
"You think it can pay the rent on its own?" As a criminal informant, Gail slipped Jordan enough to make ends meet quite regularly.
"Yeah. Yeah, working as the super for the new buildings down the street. Keep the kids clean and the asshats away." She shrugged again. "Don't mean I won't slip you a note now and then, but... I'm too old to be cool, Peck."
Now Gail laughed. "Crap, I think that every day I watch that one."
They both looked at Vivian, listening sincerely to some little old woman. "Shoulda done that when I had a chance." Jordan sounded a little sad. "Course I woulda screwed mine up more than yours."
"She came that way," Gail replied. And then she looked at Jordan thoughtfully. "You know that offer still stands. You need anything, you call. Even now."
Jordan nodded. "You ever retiring?"
"Me? Maybe. My gang's a little harder to leave."
"Least you call it what it is."
Gail smiled. "No point in lying to myself about it." She sighed. "So hey. The new priest here. Is he cool?"
"Eh. He's okay. Young." Jordan shook her head. "It's like the day I found out all the starting players on the Jays were younger than I am."
"Yeah, sorry, that's my wife's thing." She grinned though. The whole time she'd known Holly, that had been a complaint. The doctor had not appreciated being older than everyone on the team. She seethed when elected officials started to be younger as well. At least, Holly had noted, her boss would never be younger.
"See, Peck. That- that's weird. You're married. And a lesbian."
"At least one in ten people identifies as not exclusively heterosexual," Gail said with a sigh. The number was hard to measure, which she understood.
Jordan shrugged. "I just mean because you hate people."
"Oh, well that's true." She chuckled. "But... My wife's not people." Holly was a very odd exception to her rule.
"I can get that." Jordan looked at the coffin. "He was a good guy."
Gail followed the look. "How many people wanted him dead, though?"
"Curtis' guys are pretty much all gone. The ones left lit out when you'd took down Three Rivers." Jordan grinned. "Saw you on the news."
"God help me," muttered Gail. "Look. You want out, and I get that. But if you can listen out for anything that might help us catch the son of a bitch..."
Jordan nodded. "Call you. Got it."
Sadly, Gail doubted it would become anything. It was too much to expect Jordan to have all the answers, just because it was vaguely related to her old stomping grounds.
Holly wanted to dance. "Okay. So I put the parameters in and ... How long does it take?"
The printer tech, a boy about her daughter's age, eyed her. "Lady- sorry, Doctor, I've never touched anything like this before."
She understood that, but Holly was too excited. "Okay, because it took a half day to print a jawbone back in 2012. And we've reconstructed skulls, and I made a partial, and a quarter sized, but that wasn't structural mimicking —"
"Doc," sighed the boy. "I've done all that. Hell, I rebuilt that cop's kneecap. But this is not normal."
"How so? You take the data and print the bone."
"Yeah, but usually we have a sample to measure." He shook his head. "You reverse engineered the .. the knobby bits-"
"Condyles."
"Sure, condyles. You didn't even have impressions! You just ... How the hell did you do it?"
It had been a piece of work, Holly had to admit. "I used the X-rays and MRI scans." She'd used the scans going back over fifty years, the handwritten notes of MEs from the days where procedure was more of a suggestion, and she'd managed to piece together an idea of what the bones must have looked like. Four bones. "That one... We have an exemplar, actually."
Because the bone she was building was Bethany Mills' missing femur. And she was building it based on her own design.
"Oh. Okay." The man tapped the controls. "Okay. Give it about four hours. I'll keep an eye on it."
Holly rocked on her heels. "Can I watch?" The young man stared at her. She was aware she looked and sounded like a child, but it had been years to get the 3D printer in the lab. "I know it's totally silly and I'm a grown adult. I mean, hi, my daughter is your age. But I've always wanted one and we never had the budget because it's a toy." Holly rolled her eyes. "And finally we got this one, and it's new! It's not even me sending a request to St. Pats, which I only get in quickly because the head of plastics is my best friend or I have a warrant and-"
"Oh my god," groaned the young man. "It's your machine! You can sleep here if you want."
Bouncing on her toes, Holly ran over. "Oh no, Gail would get mad."
"Gail? Who's that? Your dog?"
"Mm. Wife. She's more like a cat." Holly pushed her glasses up and leaned over to watch the bone slowly build itself, layer by layer. "Wow."
The kid shook his head and pulled out a tablet. "No one believes my job. I keep telling them that the doctors are the biggest nerds."
Holly ignored him and watched the bone build itself until her watch reminded her of a meeting. Budgets. Ugh. "We get you for the week?"
"Yes, ma'am. And hands on support for three months, and phone for the year. After that, the contract has to be renewed."
A year. She had a year to make this worth the money and prove they should keep it. Already she had ideas of casting faces. The lab could use it for making weapons, of course, and she hoped they'd have a good stabbing soon.
She paused and pulled her phone out.
Do you ever think I'm too morbid?
Gail's reply came only after the budget meeting.
Depends on if you're planning on killing me or someone else.
Holly grinned.
We got the 3D printer.
Her wife replied with bone emoji. Then Gail asked if Holly was hoping for a stabbing so she could use it to prove a weapon was the culprit. It was very nice that Gail knew her so well. Someone who could tease her about her obsessions and hobbies. It was why she'd married Gail.
No. She married Gail for a million things. The humor and the wit, of course. Also the brain and beauty. Everything. She married Gail for the way she got shy when trying to express her feelings. She married for the sleepy smile after Gail woke up and the innocent way she slept. Holly loved the way Gail sang and danced, the joie de vivre with which she embraced life, the horrible sense of humor, the morbid behavior, and, yes, the sociopathic bits too.
Holly sent Gail a heart and smiled. She knew her wife would approve of Holly's delight and desire to play with her new toy.
"Hey, boss! Got a second?" Ben from field forensics waved. "It's the Solaine murder."
That got her attention. "Something new?"
"Something weird. The parade goes through downtown and his parish is Queen and Cowan."
Holly, not blessed with Gail's ability to make a mental map of the city, nodded. She accepted Ben's statements as important, without being able to make that connection. "And?"
"And the hoodie the shooter dropped, other than the glitter from hitting the drag queen in the face, has no traces of either."
"None? Was it a new sweatshirt?"
"I'm thinking so."
Looking down, Holly thought that through. A new t-shirt, it was that year's pride shirt, and a new hoodie. That was a design to disappear in the right crowd. "Where were they from?"
"Ah, that is the cool thing. They have the same particle trace from shitty shelving. Plastic coating from that faux wood stuff they banned back in 2020 for causing cancer in labs."
Holly rolled her eyes. "Yes, because I'm likely to inhale, what, 3000 times the average lifetime amount." She remembered the study because Gail had read it during a bout of insomnia and demanded to know if that was how they tested all of that kind of thing. "Too bad we can't do a database search on that…" Holly stopped. "Actually wait. Det. Anderson can get a list of all the authorized vendors for the pride shirts and cross reference that with everyone who sells black hoodies. Then we can send out minions to collect samples, find out who might have sold the shirt. AV can trawl the videos for anyone who bought them together."
Ben looked surprised. "Because they both have the trace on the inside, so it can't just be transfer. Which means the odds of them being sold together is… Right. Okay, I'll call Det. Anderson."
As Ben turned back to his lab, Holly asked, "What about the trace from the gun?"
"Oh, it's negligible. He tossed it in the trash, so it's contaminated all to fuck and back." Ben sighed. "Win some, lose some. I'd rather catch 'em on their shopping habits, personally."
Holly grinned. "Stand back. We're going to try science!"
One day Vivian would figure out how Gail managed to get them not to run.
They always ran.
After spending most of a few days stuck in the AV lab going over videos, she'd been thrilled to be told to work with Frankie on the case. And then she spent an hour in a car with Frankie and remembered why Gail generally called Frankie a 'cheap knock off' of herself. It was a snapshot of what the angry, isolated, immature Gail Peck might have been had she not found Holly and grown up.
That wasn't really fair to Frankie. She was an amazingly smart detective. She was just socially stunted. Having met Frankie's parents, Vivian kind of got it. Where the Pecks had just shunned Gail, the Andersons had disowned their wayward daughter. Twice. First for going to the academy and being a cop, second for being a lesbian. It was hard to say which was worse, if Vivian was being honest.
Things like that made Vivian inclined to like Frankie, though it did not make her stop teasing the older detective. The flip side to that was Frankie was totally free and comfortable to ask Vivian about how she should text Mac.
Initially, Vivian protested that the conversation was totally inappropriate for the situation. Eventually, Frankie wore her down and they spent the driving time discussing the proper way to text a girl to get a phone call to get a date. Not that Vivian was really an expert at those things. She was more modern-tech savvy than Frankie was, though, which meant she was the go-to person in the extended family for these things.
Family.
No denying it, not that Vivian would want to, but her family included a ton of cops, some weird doctors, artists like Izzy Shaw, and a host of other crazy people. And she wouldn't have it any other way. Even when it meant arguing with Frankie about girls. And had Frankie known that Lisa and Mac went out once, back when Vivian had been a pre-teen? And had Vivian known Frankie went out with Lisa once, before Gail and Holly were married?
Which was what they'd been doing as they walked into shop after shop. Not that Holly's lab hadn't given them a lot of information, but going to each store to look at their shelves was tedious. The reason that Frankie was there was to double up and talk to the owners about sales. The reason Vivian was with her was to let her take samples.
As always, it was in the last place they looked. More than once, Vivian had remarked on how dumb that was. Of course keys were in the last place one looked. Who would possibly keep looking? It was a stupid thing to say. But the last store they looked in, Vivian made her way to the shelves while Frankie talked about sales and access to them. Four of the stores had requested warrants, and from the sound of it, this one would too.
Vivian had sighed deeply and gotten out the kit. She was top of her class when it came to collecting evidence, but not because of Holly's influence directly. Vivian was out and out terrified of embarrassing Holly as much as she was of her Peck name. Pecks were an institution, but Holly had built a name for herself as a brilliant forensics expert. And Vivian was the only daughter of that name.
She'd been carefully swabbing and dusting when she noticed the stock boy to the side. He had asked what she was doing, in a sort of tense tone. She'd replied that she was sampling exemplars. When he was silent, she'd carried on and tucked her samples away, labeled neatly like Holly would do. Then she'd actually looked at him, intending to see how the worker was stocking shirts.
Their eyes met and he paled.
And ran.
Which was why Vivian was running after the idiot.
This time, he didn't have the ability to hide in the crowd. The pride events were days over, packed up and away. In the middle of the week, not much was going on at this hour besides the normal crowds. What people were on the street were smart enough to get to the side as Vivian thundered after the kid, gaining on him easily with her long legs and loping strides.
He toppled over a trash can into her path and Vivian cleared it easily. Then he topped over a newspaper machine (who the hell used those anyway?) which she also leapt over with ease.
"Come on, kid, you're not gonna get away!"
She could try to get in front of him. She could try to herd him to where dispatch had told her a squad was. She could try at talk him down. That wasn't her forte. Talking people down was hard. People were hard. Machines were easy. People were idiots. No... She almost laughed at her own idea and thumbed her radio as she rounded the corner.
"Dispatch, 4727. Can someone call this idiot's phone?"
It took a half block, but Dispatch laughed a reply. "4727. Copy, Anderson will make the call."
Vivian slowed a half step. The moment the kid's phone rang, he tripped. Alas, he recovered. And then, he actually answered. As he held the phone to his ear, he froze, tripped over his own feet, and fell face first into the street.
It took Vivian four strides to catch up and grab his arm. "You're an idiot," she informed him, hauling his arm around and cuffing him, reading his rights.
The idiot kid, Eivan Carmichael, complained the entire drive back. He wasn't allowed to clean up from his fall, even though he wasn't bleeding. He wanted his one phone call, even though that wasn't at all how it worked. He didn't like being in the car. He didn't line being in the back seat. And by the way, he didn't do anything wrong.
He kept complaining as they tossed him in interrogation. "Jesus, I can't stand patrol," muttered Frankie.
"They usually aren't chatty." Vivian felt obliged to point that out. "What did you say to him on the phone?"
"Police, freeze." Frankie shrugged. "Okay. Has he asked for a lawyer?"
"Nope."
"So he's an idiot."
Vivian grinned. "He said he didn't do it."
Frankie rolled her eyes. "His DNA matches the sweatshirt he threw."
"Which he can swear we planted."
"We have a witness."
"Who is not super reliable."
Frankie sighed. "And Cindy was seen at no less than four parties the night before." She shook her head. "Right. Come on and stand in a corner, looming."
"I can do that." She followed Frankie in and watched the boy finally clam up. "Thanks, Hanford," Vivian said to Rich, softly. Her classmate nodded and let himself out, looking relived. Ever since four men had died in custody, in interrogation rooms, they'd been forced to put guards in the room.
It was not a popular detail.
Vivian took her post as Frankie sat down. Normally she tried to downplay her stature. It had a tendency to be daunting, especially to kids or criminals. That said, there was a good point to it. She knew that in the uniform, standing to her full height, and putting on a stern mien like Elaine was good at, Vivian could be downright intimidating. And that's what she gave Eivan.
"So." Frankie sighed. "Here's the thing, kid. You ever watch those crime shows? Where someone sends it to the lab and Grissom or Brennan or whatever does magic and says they can pinpoint the store where the evidence was bought? Well, that's bull. Bull. But." Frankie tapped on her tablet. "This is the results from the sample we took at your store. And this is what we found in the sweatshirt."
Eivan looked over at Vivian and then back at Frankie. "We sell a lot of that."
"You do. You do. Not so much in summer. And, funny thing about summer, you sweat. Which means, Eivan, you left DNA on the sweatshirt. The armpits." Frankie leaned forward. "You don't try out the merchandise and then put it back on the shelves, do you?"
It was an obvious out. And they already knew Eivan was a simpleton. "Gross! No way!"
Frankie nodded. "So the only way for your DNA to get on there, Eivan, was if you wore it. On a hot day. And sweated." She shook her head. "Trace from you, the store, and the gun. Problem is, I got no idea why you did something this dumb."
Eivan clammed up. "Don't matter. If I did it."
Arching her eyebrows, Vivian was surprised at that comment. It didn't matter? Killing a person didn't matter? How bizarre was that? Frankie seemed to share this sentiment. "Doesn't matter. Killing a man doesn't matter?" The detective leaned back.
"Don't matter for me. Didn't do it."
"But a man died, Eivan. Don't you care?"
"Why should I? People die all the time."
"Yeah? Even priests?"
The kid shrugged. "Priests die too."
Frankie countered, calmly. "They don't all get shot at a pride parade."
The kid shrugged, again. "Cool parade. We make great sales that day. Good tips. And queers are good business."
Something in the way he said it made Frankie sit up. "You worked that day?"
"Nah, I like the dancing. Chicks like a man who's sensitive to gays and that crap."
The back of Vivian's brain was having hysterics. What would Eivan say if he knew the two police officers in the room were gay. Thankfully Frankie was much more calm about it. "I've heard that. What about drag queens? Ever catch the shows?"
Eivan nodded. "Sure, sure. The Orgasmic Special was last week."
"Right! Right, staring... Hey, Peck, who stars in the Orgasmic?"
Tilting her head a little, Vivian wondered where the question was going. "Bobbi Bolloxed and her Beautiful Belly Dancers was the headliner." You couldn't really call it belly dancing. It was more an excuse to waggle about in skimpy clothes and parade bodies that tended to make Vivian self conscious about her own.
"Nah, nah, the emcee."
Oh. Oh! "Cindy Sarcastic."
The look on Eivan's face went from ignorant to shocked. So. It looked like he knew who he'd run into. "So?" He tried to play dumb. Dumber.
The tension in the room broke when the door opened. "Uh, Detective?" Jenny looked nervous. "There's ... There's something you should look at."
Frankie arched her eyebrows. "Now?" When Jenny nodded, enthusiastically, Frankie stood up. "Peck, stay here."
They left and Eivan eyed Vivian curiously. "What was that about?"
"Dunno," she said, honestly.
A moment later, the door opened again. Jenny jerked her head and Vivian. "Anderson wants to see you."
Okay. That was weird. She left Jenny in the room and walked to the viewing room. "Ma'am?"
Frankie was about to laugh. "Can you read DNA results?"
"Um. Yes." Vivian took the file and skimmed it. Then she blinked and re-read it. "How ... Why did they run it against that sample!?"
"They didn't. Apparently when they checked to see if he was in the system, it pulled up a familial. Dunno why it took forever, though."
Vivian did. "It's a cousin or a nephew. Sister's son, maybe. The number of shared alleles -" She stopped and looked at Frankie. "Look, some families disassemble guns for fun, some try to identify short tandem repeats. Some do both." Rolling her eyes, she handed the file back.
"You, Peck, are a nerd." Frankie sighed. "Curtis Payne's family. Ain't that a kicker."
It was miles of coincidence. "So you're calling this revenge?"
"For now. I'm gonna go scare his pants off with the DNA shit, see if he breaks. If not, I'll call his folks in. Nothing scares a bravado boy more than his mommy."
Pulling the chicken out of the oven, Gail put it on the counter to cool just as Holly got home. "Hey, babe. Got your bones?"
There was a pause and a muttered curse. "First three casts don't meet my specs," said Holly, and she stomped up the steps.
"Glad to see we're all having a banner day," Gail said to herself, and set the table. Her daughter, when asked if she was coming by for dinner, made a strange excuse of having something else planned. Her wife was clearly in a mood. And Gail? Well. The murder of Father JP was looking like it would end frustratingly.
By the time Holly came back downstairs, she seemed calmer. "Sorry." The doctor picked up the bottle of wine off the table and started to open it. "Apparently we're going to have to play with the parameters more. There was too much twist in the first one, and the second was the one I tried by mirroring the bone we had, but it didn't fit right unless she was knock kneed, which John said she wasn't."
"Well. Isn't science all about testing and evaluating and refining?"
Holly squinted at her. "Yes. I was just hoping I'd get it all right a little faster."
Smiling, Gail lifted the lid off the pot. "You will."
"You are always so confident of me."
"I've seen you win an international award for inventing a new way to process bones, letting you visualize fractures in a non-destructive method." Gail shrugged. "You're kinda of awesome, Stewart. Accept it."
The doctor smiled, embarrassed. "I'm in the trough of frustration about this one, right now. I can't get what's in my head out."
"Wanna try making a model with Viv's legos again?"
Holly laughed. They'd once reconstructed a crime scene that way. "Didn't we use Han Solo as the murderer?"
"Yeah, and Akbar was the vic." Gail smirked. "Think creatively."
"I just don't want them to take my printer away," said Holly, whinging. "I have to make it worthwhile in the quarter."
"You will," said Gail firmly. "I know you will."
Her wife shook her head and poured two glasses of wine. "You're in a somewhat more optimistic mood than normal. Does that mean you caught the killer?"
"Hmm. Frankie did. He still won't tell us why he did it."
Holly looked surprised. "Wait. You caught him, you have my awesome lab's DNA proving he did it, and you're stuck on why?"
Morose, Gail nodded. "If he keeps stonewalling Frankie, I may sic John on him. But… If it was anyone else, we'd probably just take the guilty plea." She sighed. "At least he stopped saying he didn't do it. That shit was annoying."
"I'm glad that's not my headache," Holly said honestly. "What happens if you can't break him?"
Gail tilted her head. "You didn't see the other results? He's related to Curtis Payne. The drug lord who used kids as his delivery and cover?" When Holly looked perplexed, Gail added, "Curtis Payne hoodwinked Father JP's kid into his gang. JP nearly killed him. It was ... Interesting."
"Complicated." Holly shook her head. "So are you filing it as a revenge killing?"
Putting the plates on the table, Gail hesitated. "Given the shit we had with the Three Rivers and Anton Hill gangs, I'm kind of hoping its just some back assward revenge. Because the other top pick is a gang initiation. And I'm too old for that shit."
Holly made a disgruntled face. "I'm sticking with science." She sat down and looked thoughtful. "How did Curtis Payne die?"
"Cancer. Just a few months ago, actually." Gail eyed her wife, who was looking deductive. "Spill it, Stewart."
"Well..." Holly cut a piece of chicken. "Did the priest see him before he died? Absolution or whatever they call it?"
Gail snorted. "How should I know?"
"You went to Catholic school, you dimwit," said Holly with a laugh. "What if JP went to see Curtis, and that idiot Eivan got the wrong idea?"
It was moments like that, where Gail remembered all the myriad reasons she married Holly. "Goddamn you're good. I'm gonna make Frankie dig into that... do you mind?"
Holly waved a hand. "Please, email in the name of justice and all that."
Popping up, Gail bounced around the end of the table to kiss Holly's forehead before emailing Frankie with a new lead. It may be another dead lead, but at least it was something.
The death of Jean Pierre ends oddly. His killer did it and will serve time, but his motive is, at this time, unknown. For now. Not all cases are closed in ways we like.
So far I don't have a ship name but currently people seem to be vying for "vamie" or "firebomb" (you can't use 'fire peck' since that's what Ollie calls Shay, sorry). What do you think?
