02.06 - Girls' Night Out

Life changes and people move on. It's time for Steve to retire and maybe, just maybe, time for Vivian to move forward in her relationship with Jamie the firefighter. Yes. That.


The last night of the night shift couldn't come fast enough for Vivian. It threw her rhythm off, being up all night. Not that she really minded being up. It was that she had to try and sleep some in the day. And she didn't want to.

What she wanted was for Jamie to be able to come over when Christian wasn't there. Or for her to be able to go to Jamie's when Ruby wasn't there. Because neither of them really wanted their first time to be with roommates who might pass judgements. Or be sarcastic and knowing. Or cry, in the case of now single Ruby. Or maybe in Christian's case too, frankly.

Of course, that meant she was more fidgety than normal.

"Okay, Ms. Ants in her Pants. How good is the sex?" Lara was smirking in the shotgun seat while Viv drove them down the deserted road.

"Do people really talk about this?"

"I thought you had a best friend in high school who was a girl. Didn't you two talk about stuff?"

Vivian made a face. "No, but I had the worst crush on her."

Lara was quick. "Oooh right, your ex? Yeah, no wonder you suck at girl stuff. Didn't your Moms...?"

"Hah, you've met them." Gail didn't get along enough with people to talk about it with anyone other than Holly. Of course, Holly had Aunt Rachel and Aunt BitchTits. Even so, Holly did not generally talk about girly things. Sports, politics, sure. "We haven't had sex yet. Happy?"

"Wait, what?"

Vivian sighed. "Our schedules are kind of at odds." And the few times they'd had the same free time, there either hadn't been enough of it or, worse, one of them had been on their period. Not how either wanted their first time to go.

Her partner laughed. "You look like if we suddenly got the night off, you'd drive the squad over right now."

That was tempting. "No. She's on tonight. Seven to seven." The twenty-four hour shifts were murder. Jamie would try and sleep half the day before in order to survive on the lack thereof the next day. The day after, she was either wired or dead on her feet, and trying to force herself back into a better rhythm. Sometimes she only had one day off between shifts, sometimes two or four or five. In between those shifts, she had to squeeze in everything from shopping and laundry to sex with her new ... girlfriend?

They hadn't put a name on it yet. If she'd been in high school or college, 'girlfriend' would be the right name for it. People who made out and went for food when one was at the end of a shift and the other was about to start, that was what people did on dates. Vivian wanted to say 'girlfriend' but even in her head that had a weight to the word. A girlfriend was someone you told your parents about, and Vivian wasn't sure she was quite there yet.

But the thought of her kinda-sorta-girlfriend faded as she watched the street that night. There was a flavor to the air. Something besides the humidity. What had Oliver told her? Full moons made people go a little crazy, but it was only a waxing gibbous moon that night. No, wait, he'd told her that, eventually, she would feel the pulse of the street.

"Man they have insane shifts. Do they stay up all night?"

"No." Vivian frowned and eyed the road. She was certain something felt off.

"Are you this ... What's the word? Short with her?"

"Taciturn, and yes." Yeah, there was a heady sensation on the streets. Not this one... The side streets.

"You are a fun, fun girlfriend, Peck."

"Lara, does it feel weird right now?"

"Well you're pretty weird-"

Vivian cut her off. "The street. The ... The city. Something feels tight." Lara shut up and frowned. She was good at reading people, seeing motive. Vivian had a talent for spotting lies, but that was a natural gift. There were Peck gifts, things Gail and Elaine had given her over the years, that told her when things were just plain wrong. Right now her Peck Training was on high alert.

They came up by the dive bars and Vivian slowed the car. It was a week night, which was generally quiet. But it was also summer, when hordes of bored college students did remarkably idiotic things.

"Okay, now that you said it, it does," Lara muttered. "Don't jinx us, Peck."

A woman flew across the hood of their car. Vivian slammed on the brakes and stared at the tall, muscular woman in a gaudy dress, who stood in a doorway screaming. "We don't want your kind here!"

Oh. Not a woman. Or maybe a woman. Now was not the time for nitpicking. Lara grabbed the radio, "Dispatch, 1504, we've got a fight at, uh..." Vivian supplied the location. "Right. The, er, Beavertail Club?"

"Drag Revue." Vivian had the car off and the windows up.

"1504, Dispatch. Do you require backup?"

"Uh," Lara hesitated as Vivian got out of the car. A heartbeat later, a second body was thrown out. "Yes, yes 1504 requesting backup."

Inside the club was an all out brawl between performers and some drunk woo-girls. Wigs had been yanked off of heads, the claws were out, and it was an absolute mess. Before the backup arrived, however, the situation took a turn for the worse. They'd managed to calm down most of the fights when there was a scream from the back of the room. Vivian knew the scream and quickly convinced her troublemaker to sit before rushing into the back.

"Uh, Dispatch, 4727. Change that to a 10-45."

There was a crackle from her radio. "4727, Dispatch. Say again?"

"Dispatch, 4727 calling in a 10-45, requesting homicide."

"4727, do you need a Bus?"

Vivian looked down at the woman with her throat nearly slashed to the bone. If she hadn't known from the volume of blood, the bone was a giveaway. "No. She's dead alright."


"That really sounds like you," laughed Holly as Vivian told them the story of the dead woman while they finished getting dinner ready. "This one had a headless guy in an ambulance once."

Vivian grinned and took out three beers. "The case that made Mom's name in major crimes." Everyone knew that story. Even Vivian had a strange connection to it, since it had been her first majorly involved case. "Three Rivers was a stupid gang name."

All three women agreed on that front. "I'm sad to say they're no smarter in your day as they were in mine," sighed Gail, taking a bottle. But then Holly knew that Gail was likely to remember the case more as the last major case that Steve worked on before he retired. Soon.

Frowning, Holly slid her arm around Gail's waist, pulling her close. Of course Holly knew how much her wife was going to miss having her brother around the Division. They'd talked about it enough. The times were changing. "I wish I was working the case," mused Holly, trying to make Gail smile. "I love a good decapitation."

Gail laughed. "You are such a nerd." She grinned and kissed her wife's cheek.

"What? They're fun to work on!"

Shaking her head, Gail told Vivian what Traci had told her that afternoon, "The Ds said you did good. Controlled the scene, contained the suspects, didn't let anyone else panic."

"I was raised by the best detective in the city," countered Vivian casually. It was flattering and Gail blushed. "Mom, seriously."

"You know, you just can't tell if you're doing right at the time," sighed Gail. They all sipped their beers. It was strange having the house to themselves again, now that Vivian had moved out. Having her back for a meal didn't change a thing. This was still home and right. "How's it going at the new place?"

Her daughter blushed, much to Holly's surprise. Hello! "Fine," she mumbled, looking down.

Immediately, Gail eyed Holly who just smiled. Holly was certain that there was a girlfriend. Vivian would tell them sooner or later. "It's very odd here," said Holly casually. "Your mother misses her minion."

"Hey!" Gail scowled. "I'm not the one who forgot that it was her turn for the laundry."

"No, you just forgot that you have to pick up the groceries yourself." Holly grinned and sat at the table. "Vivian, you're lucky you're even getting this."

Vivian grinned. "Mom's crap cooking is better than our good cooking." And Holly laughed.

Dinner was normal. They joked and bantered. Gail and Holly flirted, and Vivian complained about them. But when Gail went to handle a phone call upstairs, Holly leaned towards Vivian. "So?"

Her daughter froze with her fork in her mouth. "Wha?"

"Who's the girl?"

Bingo. Vivian turned red. "Nuh uh, Mom," she scowled.

"Oh please, I won't tell Gail."

They both looked at the stairs. "That isn't it, Mom," said Vivian softly. "I … You didn't tell everyone you got together with Mom right away, right?"

Holly hesitated. There had been myriad reasons for that, not the least of which was that she wasn't entirely sure what had been going on with Gail at the time. She'd half expected Gail to freak out about kissing a girl and run off into the night. Even now she was delighted to have been wrong. "True."

"Well. I don't … I want this to just be a thing with us for a bit." Toying with her fork, Vivian added, "I want to figure out what the thing is first."

That hit close to home. Holly smiled. "I understand, honey. Though … You're not her first …" Holly gestured at Vivian, a little lamely. "Girl … Are you?"

Vivian half smiled. "No, Mom. She's not a lesbian virgin." Then she sighed. "It's just … Jesus, we haven't even had sex yet."

Patting her daughter's arm, Holly remembered that stage of her relationship with Gail all too well. "Well. At least you know she's into girls."

Vivian made a face. "Right now I just wish I didn't have a roommate. Or a period."

Oh that. "Schedules and roommates. At least Lisa isn't your roommate. She would offer advice if she could hear you." More than once, having a similar lament, Holly had heard advice on how she could satisfy herself and her girlfriend without inconveniencing anyone.

"God that sounds like Mom."

They both laughed. "Doesn't it though?" Holly grinned and gestured with her fork. "Your secret's safe with me, kid."

"Thanks," muttered Vivian.

And, to be fair, Holly did put it out of her mind. She had a to-do list a mile long, and was behind on a paper she'd been promised to finish. There were too many things to write and not enough uninterrupted time to do it in. Which was why she took the next day off.

And, logically, it was why the doorbell rang before lunch the next day. Holly swore.

She'd been at the end of her brilliant article about the curing of bones for long term strength and stability once removed from the body, and how it changed the way a bone was reproduced with a 3D printer. It was perfect! It wrapped everything up in a mic-drop moment. And now it was lost.

The doorbell rang again.

"God fucking damn it! I'm coming!" She picked up a pen just for the physical satisfaction of throwing it back down and stomped down the stairs. The doorbell rang again. "For fuck's sake," snapped Holly and she threw the door open. "What the hell could possibly be so important?"

The delivery man looked stricken. "Um. Dr. Stewart?"

"Yes?" She knew she was bitchy and peevish and did not care.

"Um. Sign here?"

She scrawled her name and took the padded envelope. "It's not your fault," she muttered, and closed the door. A heartbeat later she opened it. "Thank you!" The delivery man half waved and she kicked the door closed.

The package was a book from a publisher. Not hers. Holly frowned and tore it open to reveal a book. Not just any book. Her mother's book. "Oh my god!" Holly's annoyance faded away and she bounced up and down. "Mom!" It didn't matter that her mother wasn't there. The only thing that mattered was the book, The Migration of Flora, was finished and the first copy was in her hands.

Holly sprinted up the stairs, her socked feet slipping on the hardwood floor, and grabbed her phone. She tapped the number on her speed dial.

"Go for Peck."

The words she was thinking of saying fell out of her head. "Seriously? That's how you say hello to your wife?"

"Hey! I thought today was don't call or die day!"

"The book came!"

Gail was quiet for a moment. "Book?"

"Mom's book! About the migration of the biomes in … You remember? She was showing us last Christmas?"

"You know I love Lily, baby, but — Wait is this the book about how plants migrate and the shipping patterns changed the rate so that's why there was that weird mold outbreak in BC?"

"That's the one! She got it published!" Holly flipped it open and oohed. "She thanks us in the preface!"

"Did you finish your paper?"

Holly fell silent. "I want to read Mom's book," she said petulantly.

"Uh huh. And you didn't call your mother because…"

"Mom will want to talk and I haven't read it and I'm supposed to finish my paper and … Damn it, I don't want to be the adult!"

Gail laughed. "Okay. I have an idea. Finish your paper. I'll come home and cook something awesome, and then I'll read it to you. Or you can read it to me."

"You will fall asleep."

"Not if you're reading. I might be inspired to rip your clothes off and ravage you, but that's a different story."

Holly blushed. "How does that turn you on?"

"Well it's you talking science. Totally gets me hot and bothered. You know I have a thing for you in that lab coat, too."

"You better be in your office by yourself, Gail," said Holly, warningly.

"We got a plea deal from that stupid smuggler. And I have lunch with my mom. It might be a while." Gail paused and Holly could feel her wife's apprehension. The last thing Gail wanted was to help plan Steve's retirement party. "Go finish your paper about how you got the 3D printed bone model right. Love you, baby."

"Oh fine, be responsible. Love you too." Holly hung up and sighed. She wanted to have fun and read the book. Not that her paper wasn't fun, the 3D printer shenanigans had been kind of awesome. But that was just the effort of getting what was in her head back out. This was entirely new.

On the other hand, it was totally cool that she'd figured out the structure of the inside of the fake bone had to be different, in order to support the proper weight and abuse one might need to inflict on it. Not to mention the bone structure itself was altered by the curing process. The fake bones they made for people were adjusted to the impact stress of human life. In her quest to reproduce not just impact but tensile strength of real bones, Holly had accidentally found out how to make the bone weight correct. A handful of ortho doctors had swarmed over her findings and, in the last two weeks, were pushing to create a new leg for a national soccer player. The secret sauce had been in wrapping the 3D plastic around a separate mold of the inner bone.

The structure of both parts was different. One was honeycombed and the other was a more spiral approach. It had taken hours of effort, dozens of failed attempts, and finally it had all worked. Finally she had a bone with the right heft, balance, and strength.

And when she smashed it into the demo skull, it left the exact right impression.

Holly had cheered. So had the printer tech. Then he asked why they were cheering.

If the punishment for that was writing a paper to submit, in a bit of a rush, to the Boston Forensics Conference later that year, well, really she'd deal with it. Holly didn't mind writing the paper. She just minded the speed. She had to have it done by the end of the week.

Putting her mother's book down in the kitchen, Holly dragged herself back up to, as Gail would say, be brilliant.


If she didn't know Holly was working hard, she'd have texted her wife. Instead, Gail sent a message to her daughter.

Shoot me.

The reply was immediate.

Me first.

And Vivian sent a photo of herself in the evidence room.

"Gail," said Elaine, firmly. "Stop texting Vivian."

Gail sighed and shoved the phone into her pocket. "How did you know it wasn't Holly?"

"You have a different smile." Elaine waved a hand and tapped the table. "Now. The issue at hand, if you please?"

Beside her, Gail's asshole brother smirked. "Buuuuusted."

"Shut up," snarled Gail, shoving him in the arm. "We don't need a DJ, mom. The jukebox has all of Steve's music on it, so we'll just hand people tokens when they come in and they can pick their favorite Steve song."

While her brother looked skeptical, Elaine nodded. "While I dread a night filled with nothing but Tom Petty, I think that will work."

"You didn't share a wall with him growing up," Gail remarked. "How many of your exes are we inviting?"

Steve shoved her arm. "Brat." Then he grinned. "Mom, seriously. A cake, some booze, some tunes, and everyone crying about how much they're gonna miss me. That's all I want. I'm a simple guy."

True. Steve was a pretty simple sort of guy. "You already talked me out of an actual party," said Elaine, contemplative and complaining. "At least your sister let me."

Snorting, Gail shook her head. "Hello, no. Your cohort in crime, Lily, did that. One doe-eyed look from her, and Holly's fucking butter." It was twenty years and Holly still felt guilty for eloping.

"You robbed us of a wedding and a baby shower."

"Well Vivian was six, Mom."

Elaine's eyes narrowed and she grinned just a little. "Steven allowed me to throw a wedding."

"Remind me to retire after you die," countered Gail. Her mother smirked. "Steve, you get that we're having this at the same place as your stupid wedding, too?"

"Hey, you liked my wedding."

"I liked the hotel room after."

Elaine rolled her eyes. "God help me, why did I have two of you?"

Cheerfully, Gail pointed out the truth. "I was the accident." Her mother just sighed, but before Elaine could comment, Gail's phone rang. "It's your BFF, Frankie."

"Lucky you." Steve waved at her, ushering Gail away.

She thumbed her phone as soon as she was a bit away. "Tell me you desperately need me and can rescue me from party planning."

Frankie Anderson laughed. "I wanted to catch you up on the latest from our priest killer."

"Eivan the Terrible? Don't tell me he finally gave up the ghost."

"Not to us, but I've been watching his visitors. Get this. A young priest named Thomas Nelson."

Gail blinked. She knew that name but not the job designation. "JP's son? He's a priest too!?"

"Yeah, the kid went to forgive Eivan." Frankie sounded derisive. "And our little murderer broke down and apologized!"

"This is demented." Gail pinched her nose. "Wait, did he tell Thomas why he did it?"

"He did. And no, the priest won't roll over."

Sighing, Gail shook her head. "Are you calling to give me nothing but bad news?"

Frankie laughed. "Hey I have a lot of good news. For example, Father Thomas told me that while he cannot tell me why Eivan did it, he said not to expect further retaliation."

"What the hell does that mean? This was a one-off?"

"Basically. Thomas is going to start serving the prison so he agreed to let me know if he thinks this will be a gang war. But I think he's trying to make peace with the Montagues and Capulets."

"Worst Romeo and Juliet retelling ever."

The detective laughed. "It's my going away present to Steve-o. No more gang wars."

"He'll appreciate it. What's your other good news?"

There was a pause before Frankie replied. "Not work."

"Oh ew, no, I don't not want to hear about your sexcapades, Anderson. I'm hanging up unless you have something new on my firebug or Eivan."

"Fine. Tell your kid thanks."

Gail made a face. "I do not want to know— wait, are you bringing someone to Steve's party?"

"I am," said Frankie slowly. "Is that going to fuck up your planning?"

"One person, no. A harem of seven who fight about who's going home with you might."

Frankie laughed. "Just one. Mac."

It took a moment, but Gail knew Mac very well. "My kid hooked you up with Mac? The EMT? Jesus, what's the world coming to?"

"A very delicious, best sex ever, ending."

"Okay, you get how that's not any more appealing now that it was when we were twenty or thirty?"

"And to think I'm in my sexual peak now," said Frankie, laughing.

"Fuck off. I'm hanging up, Anderson." And Gail hung up and sighed again.

It wasn't really about Anderson. She was happy for Frankie, in many ways. Everyone deserved to be happy, even that queen of braggadocio.

Gail just wanted her day to be over. To be home and hanging out with Holly, listening to her gorgeous nerd read about plants from a book written by another nerd. Gail wanted to stretch on the couch, her head in Holly's lap, and pretend to be disinterested in the technical jargon. She wanted to have her killers caught and confessed. Her daughter somewhere good at the end of her day, maybe the Penny, with friends.

She wanted to have her brother by her side. Her against him, him against her, but always them against all the rest of the fuckers out there.

And Steve was leaving her.

Sometimes Gail wondered if he ever really minded that she'd been promoted over him. Steve took too many chances, played dirty too often to get the gangs and drug dealers to believe him, for his ascension to ever happen. And Gail had taken a fast track, partly by design, partly by accident. She'd been in the right place at the right time.

Detective Inspector Gail Peck, head of Organized Crime for TwentySeven, ThirtyFour, and of course Fifteen.

She could be the super, if she wanted. Gail knew that in her heart. But she knew she didn't want it. What she loved was the crimes, the games and the puzzles. The politics she hated and could do without. The puzzle of why Eivan killed Father JP was nagging her. The puzzle of why various places in Toronto had been torched was really pissing her off.

Glancing at the table, Elaine and Steve were going down a list. She could read their lips. Elaine was complaining about the alcohol choices and Steve insisted the beer would be drunk and, if not, they could use it at the softball games. That meant he'd be donating it.

Gail shook her head and tapped her phone, calling John Simmons.

"All the begging in the world won't make me consider coming to bail you out of planning with your mom."

She grinned. That was why she adored John. "You're coming on Saturday, right?"

"I have a choice? Elaine handed me the invitation!"

"Then no, no you don't."

"Ah well. At least I know she'll have good food. Janet's place is catering."

Of course Gail knew that. "You're welcome." The cook had mentioned to Gail that their catering business had been struggling.

"I'm not thanking you, you opportunistic pest." John laughed. "You didn't call to brag."

"No. I have a legit question. Where are we on the arsons?"

John groaned. "Well. As brilliant as your kid is, her theory hasn't panned out. We can't make an autonomous fire starter from the car parts yet. I can't find the new supplier. I can't find a pattern between a homeless man's cart, the fire at the frat house, and the rent boys at the underpass, and the description of the firebrand is as useful as tits on a duck."

The description had been a medium height male, 18 to 25, with brown hair and brown eyes. Average build. "I thought you decided the cart was a trial run and not a target."

"Oh, that was until I went over the interviews again. That guy is an asshole. Did you read it?"

"No. It's your case."

"Right, well he was ... You know how your kid just looks gay, right?"

Gail blinked. "If you say so." Gail did not have much of a gaydar. Holly did, though she said it was broken regarding her own daughter.

"He called her... hang on. The butch wanna be boy-cop. Said Peck was helpful, for a dyke. Aronson's report lists multiple instances of him calling Peck some nasty gay slurs."

Gail's face tightened. Ah. That was right, she'd heard about that. "So he's a homophobic asshat. It happens." She bit her lip and decided not to ask what her kid had said back. Probably not a damn thing.

"I'm sure it still happens. But it makes me think he'd piss people off. Made himself a target."

It wasn't a bad idea. "And the rent boys?"

"Assuming the dead john was the target and not the prostitute, he was an a-type jock asshole. And frat boys? Hullo."

Gail followed John's train of thought. "Revenge for ... Bullying?"

"That's where I'm going for now. I got this, Gail. Go help your brother."

"Can you pick up Frankie's case? Oversight? She's angling for a promotion and I'd like to help her bump."

John made a noise. "A dead end case is not the way to go there, boss."

"Handling a dead end well can be."

"Okay, that's fair." He sighed. "For the record, I'm staying as Sergeant."

Weirdly that felt like a punch. Gail closed her eyes. For a few years, John had flirted with the idea of leaving. The old Gail, the one who'd been new to the gold badge, who'd been the baby D, would have brushed it off and ignored her feelings. "I honestly don't think I could take you and Steve leaving in the same year."

And the man who had been by her side, constantly, for two decades, exhaled. It was long. It was low. And it said everything. "Not any time soon, Peck. All the good shit happens with you around. Besides, you like me."

She smiled. It didn't matter he couldn't hear the grin. "Well not if you're gonna get all sappy and sentimental on me, Simmons."

"You wish, Peck." They paused and, in that moment, they knew. It would be years. Maybe even never. "You know, it's funny. I remember the last thing Griggs ever said to me."

"Oh? Fuck decaf?" That had been the last thing she'd heard him say.

"No. No, it was ... He said that I should be your sergeant, after him. And since I'd never been divorced, I'd be a hell of a lot better one that he was."

"Daunting," muttered Gail.

"Bit, yeah."

She shook her head. "Don't fish for compliments, John. I'm not comparing you two."

John laughed. "I'd never ask. But remind me, did you or Holly propose?"

Oh so that was his angle! Gail snorted. "She did. It was not something I'd recommend."

"Eloping, though. I could do that."

"Well. That part I did." She chuckled. "You get serious about that, come on over."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll go read up on Anderson's cases. Go back to lunch." And he hung up.

Gail probably could be fine without John around, but she was in no rush to try. It was enough to know that she'd be saying goodbye to Steve as a police officer soon.

With a deep sigh, Gail pocketed her phone and went back inside.


Kissing Jamie was definitely one of Vivian's new favorite things to do. There was just something about it, the way she was gentle and soft in all the right ways, that made Vivian forget about the deal they had with going slow. It made sense. Jamie's last girlfriend had been pretty messy, Vivian's track record hadn't been great. Be slow. Take it slow. Don't jump into sex.

But damned if Vivian could really care less about the TV show they were supposedly watching. She was paying far more attention to the way Jamie fit against her. At least until her watch chimed.

Jamie leaned back, flushed. "Do you have to go?"

Vivian checked the alert, which was just the standard 'go to the batting cages' reminder. An event that had been canceled. "No. I forgot to delete the calendar alert is all."

"Good." Jamie grinned and leaned back in, cornering Vivian on the couch.

They didn't get to spend much time with that before Ruby snapped. "Oh Jesus, again?"

Vivian sighed as Jamie moved off her, coughing a little embarrassed. "Hey, Ruby," said Vivian. "You're home early."

"I thought Wednesdays meant I didn't have to see you two screwing on my couch." She wasn't really mad. Vivian kind of liked Ruby, in a snarky way. It was kind of like Gail-light, not that she'd dare tell Ruby or Jamie that.

Disgruntled, Jamie pointed out the facts as she stood up. "Making out. Not screwing. Also it's my couch."

"Our couch."

"Whatever. You didn't hear me complain when you and what's his name were actually half naked in the kitchen."

Vivian cleared her throat and raised a hand. "Just for my peace of mind, you did clean the counter, right?"

And Ruby laughed. Just like that, the mild argument was defused. "Fine, whatever. Don't care. Hi, Vivian. Bye, Vivian." Ruby walked down the hall to her room.

As soon as the coast was clear, Vivian stood up and gently turned Jamie around to face her. The firefighter smiled and kissed her again. After a moment, though, Jamie asked, "When is your shift change?"

"Two more weeks," she said quietly, giving in to the want of having Jamie closer, looping her fingers through belt loops and softly pressing her lips to the other woman's neck. Two more weeks until they had somewhat matching schedules. They knew that.

Somehow Jamie kept her mind on track. "What are you doing this week?" Apparently the semi-privacy of next month (two weeks...) wasn't soon enough. That was encouraging. Admittedly they'd been playing opposite schedules for the last three... No the last four weeks and three days, and god it was frustrating. Most of the reason Vivian wasn't angling for sex right then was that Jamie had to work tomorrow.

Vivian closed her eyes for a moment and paused. She couldn't think about the rest of her life and how amazing Jamie's skin felt at the same time. "I've got the day shift until Friday, then Saturday I have to help with my Uncle's retirement party." And then Vivian was back at work on Monday. In between she was helping the detectives at the drag club where the woman had been killed, even though they knew it had been the bartender. Hell, he admitted to it.

And then there was Jamie's schedule. She'd been on for four days, then had yesterday and today off. Tomorrow was two days on. "I'm on till Friday anyway," mused Jamie. She had the weekend off, but working tomorrow meant Vivian staying was a bad idea. Being one of the only women in her station, Jamie had a 'thing' about showing up to shift tired. And Vivian understood that. Besides, Jamie had a lot to fit in for the weekend. Like all of her shopping and laundry. But then she asked a surprising question. "How long do you think the party will go Saturday?"

Saturday? The day after her shift? "Oh, forever," grimaced Vivian. "My Moms will skip out by eleven, though."

Jamie's fingers toyed with Vivian's shirt buttons. "So. Maybe you could get out after? Come by?"

Come by. Even Vivian, who was pretty bad at reading signals, was sure she knew what that meant. Come by and have sex. Because Jamie didn't want to wait either. "It'll be midnight if I'm lucky." And Jamie leaned in again to kiss her. She couldn't not smile at the feel of Jamie's lips on hers.

"Text first," decided Jamie, putting a small moment of caution in the air. "Ruby's shift changed. She's working that night." They kissed again, Vivian struggling not to push a little past kissing, not to slide her hands under Jamie's shirt. One sneaky finger slipped up, brushing Jamie's waist just before Ruby came back from the bathroom, effectively chasing them apart.

Those kisses carried her through the mundane shift the next day. She had to work with Duncan, who hadn't gotten any more clever over time, but it was Thursday which meant dinner with her parents. At the house, her Moms were busy lamenting over Steve's retirement (Gail) and the implications of their own age (Holly).

"I'm just saying, pretty soon all my classmates will retire. Do I really want to be a cop till I die?" Gail chopped viciously at the potatoes.

"Yes," said Holly, smiling and helping Vivian pick out what books to take to her place out of the latest shipment from her grandparents. "You're an amazing detective and you love it."

Gail grumbled. "A sixty year old cop is way different from a doctor, Holly."

With a long suffering sigh, Holly got up and walked over to Gail. "Hey, look at me, honey." The chopping stopped and Holly's voice was much quieter. They didn't want Vivian to hear.

That didn't bother her. Parents were allowed to have privacy after all, and their concerns didn't always revolve around her. "Hey, Monkey," called out Gail. "Are you happy?"

Vivian blinked and looked up. "What? In life?" Her mothers were leaning into each other looking thoughtful. "Yeah."

"You don't have a lot of friends, and I know it's been tough since Liv came back and left and you..." Gail trailed off. "I'd hoped you guys could be friends again."

"Liv is dating a guy," sighed Vivian, crossing her legs and leaning on the box. Both of her mothers looked surprised.

Of course Gail looked upset. Angry. Not at Vivian, though, at herself. A hand on Gail's arm stayed her, though, and Holly asked, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Well. She hadn't told her parents, and it's not like we were dating anymore." Vivian shrugged. "I'm kind of pissed. I mean, knowing she went to a guy is weird. She's bi, which I know, but still. Knowing she was dating a guy and she kissed me was weirder. That ... yeah."

Now Gail made a noise. "Wait. She kissed you? When was this?"

"Fite Nite last year. You're right about that being bad luck for Pecks. I'm skipping this year." Vivian knew her casual demeanor, one she actually felt now that she was safe behind the wall of her secret relationship with Jamie, was helping her mother keep cool.

"Olivia kissed you and she's dating someone?" Holly looked a little horrified. "A boy?"

"Man. Whatever. Male. Yes." Vivian sighed and reached for another one of the science fiction books. Grandpa Brian loved good science fiction. The stuff with legit science.

Her mothers were quiet for a moment. "Well. Shit." Gail threw a towel onto the counter. "How the hell did you inherit Holly's luck with exes?"

"Hey." Holly looked annoyed. And then. "Nurture?"

"Given that she's adopted," said Gail dryly, "I'm pretty sure it ain't genetic."

"There's inheritance and then there's societal inheritance. In fact-" Before Holly got too deep into ramble mode, Gail kissed her.

"Seriously you guys ... We were never going to work out, Moms," admitted Vivian. "I knew it. You knew it. She knew it. We were never really in sync. I just screwed it up and now things are all weird and uncomfortable."

Gail shook her head. "You screwed it up, fine, but Liv did too. I mean, seriously. I want to give her crap for that kiss. It's not cool, cheating on people."

Because Gail had. Right. "Mom, you're not her mom," Vivian said plainly. And Gail nodded, unhappy, but agreeing.

"First Liv, then Christian. You had a banner year," Holly said, lamenting.

"I hope you find someone better to kiss," said Gail.

Vivian hoped she wasn't blushing. "I'm just hoping I won't screw up the same way I always do," she muttered.

Her mothers looked at each other and Gail came over to sit on the other side of the box. "You don't have to tell anyone, Viv," she said carefully.

Leave it to Gail to get it right away. "It makes things awkward, Mom. I mean... I spent that whole weekend in Montreal and I barely slept." She only slept because she was exhausted and, literally, could not stay awake. That had been the fracturing of her relationship with Liv. It shattered when she refused to tell her best friend why. Refused was the wrong word. She literally was unable to speak the words. She had tried, and ... Nothing came out.

"You didn't have to move out." Gail gestured over her shoulder. "We talked about that forever ago, Monkey. If you have to live with us forever, that's fine. You're our plus one. Even if you totally blew us off for softball last night."

Rolling her eyes, Vivian pointed out, "You asked me not to come!" Vivian glanced at Holly who was smiling a dippy smile about the whole thing. "Look… I like having my own place, Moms. I mean… I loved living here. But moving out was right. And even when C's out, I can sleep just fine. Just like the cottage and grandma and grandpa's guest house."

They were home. This was home, but so were they. Home was safe now. "So. You think my theory was right?" Gail picked up a book and looked at it.

"I do," said Vivian quietly. "Home is okay."

"Well. If you change your mind. Ever. You can always come here, Monkey. Wherever we live, that's always your home too."

They shared a small smile. Gail's was encouraging. Vivian hoped hers was hopeful. And then she deflected. "So why, exactly, was I asked not to come to the batting cages yesterday?"

Holly smirked. "Gail's trying to learn how to hit a curveball."

Predictably, Gail erupted in faux-anger about the reveal, and everyone laughed.


The party was loud and Gail struggled to smile. Steve was retired. Her brother was no longer a cop.

She was now the oldest Peck on the force, and the weight of that simple thought was crushing. The legacy and name she'd fought against, fought so hard to rebel from and burn down, was hers and hers alone.

The last Peck at Fifteen.

Which wasn't true. Her daughter was currently pouring drinks behind the makeshift bar, laughing at something Leo was saying. Her daughter, the next Peck. And, now that her daughter was cut loose, her cousin was off to the marine unit and Vivian bore the burden of being the uniformed Peck of Fifteen.

Not that the donut fine was a real thing.

A tan hand covered one of her own. "Hey." Holly's voice was a low murmur. "Holding up okay?"

"Too many parties." Grumbling her reply, Gail picked up her drink and downed it.

"Don't get loaded." Holly's dark eyes were amused but cautionary.

Gail snorted and shook her empty glass. "This is my only drink tonight. Besides, aren't I allowed to get blasted trying not to think about how I'm old?"

"Not if you want to get laid." Kissing the corner of Gail's mouth, Holly took the glass away. "You're not alone."

"I said old, Holly."

"I know what you said. And what you meant." Her wife smiled.

Gail sighed. She had meant alone. "I know. I have Traci and Viv."

"And me. And Andy and Chloe. Fifteen is changing, honey, but it's still home."

"I was thinking... You know I'm the oldest Peck on the force now?"

Holly looked surprised. "No you're not there's ..." She trailed off. "Oh. They've all retired?"

"Mm mm. It's en vogue now. Don't die badged."

Her wife looped her arm through Gail's, snuggling up against her. "No matter how you die, I'll be sad." It was said so simply, it cut Gail's breath away. "But as long as you live happily, with me, I'll be happy."

Gail exhaled and leaned into Holly. "You always talk about how I wow you with words, but ..." She closed her eyes. "I'm happy."

There was the sound of a camera click. "You guys look adorable," said their daughter.

"If that photo ends up in Oliver's hands, I'm disowning you," warned Gail.

Impishly, Vivian shoved her phone away. "You guys good on drinks?"

Holly tilted her head. "You're in a good mood, spawn of Satan."

"I was only adopted by the antichrist," corrected Vivian. "Remind me. Do we like Bibby or tolerate him?"

"We suspect he hit his girlfriend and nearly killed her brother." Gail glanced over at her brother, who had his arm around Frankie, teasing her. They had been partners for a time, after Bibby was suspended.

Her wife poked her ribs. "I'm sorry, we suspect?"

"I was a rookie, and McNally was in her most insufferable back then." And the only other person who might have known was Chris. "Actually that was a pretty bad day... Steve asked me to pick family over my friends." That was the reason she still believed that Bibby perhaps wasn't as bad as all that. Steve was a phenomenal judge of character, and had invited Bibby.

Vivian seemed to understand that. She'd been grasping the touchiness of the political landscape of policing surprisingly well. "Gotcha. I'm going to go save Frankie from embarrassing herself in front of Mac."

They watched their daughter trot over to Frankie and Steve, punching the latter in the shoulder. Frowning, Gail wondered what was going on to put their daughter in a good mood. It was rare to see her bouncy. Even as a child, she'd only really gotten excited about food. Which made Gail worry about her first six years. The day before Vivian had moved in with them, Anne had warned them that she'd had trouble with food at her previous home. A little random hoarding, and a lot of not really eating properly. That was pretty common for kids in the system, though, and had never happened after moving in with them.

Holly cleared her throat. "Stop it."

"Sorry," muttered Gail.

"She's fine." There was something in Holly's tone that implied she had information Gail did not.

Well. That was okay. Vivian tended to tell Gail most things. The times she leaned on Holly more, Gail gave her space and privacy. "I know." She did, too. She knew their daughter would tell them if something was wrong. "She... This year, she moved out and Steve retired. It's weird. That's all."

Holly leaned into her. "Well. We're old. I'm going to retire before I'm 75."

"What?" Gail craned her neck. Never once had Holly mentioned that before. She'd never put a date or a time on anything.

"Ten years. Fifteen at most." Holly sounded thoughtful and yet serious. "Then I'm going to retire and write papers. Maybe a book like Mom. And garden."

Gail chewed her lower lip. "You ... You wouldn't be bored?"

"With you in my life, honey? Never." Holly reached up and ran her fingers down Gail's cheek and jaw. "Plus I'll have more time to spend with you."

"That's a selling point? I thought the strength of our relationship was based on not spending all our time together."

And Holly laughed softly, drawing Gail's face in to kiss. "I know you hate people," said Holly, her voice low and gentle. "But I'm not people." That was true. Gail smiled and rested her forehead against her wife's. "I'm not leaving you."

Leave it to Holly who, after 20 plus years, knew how to read Gail's fears. "I know," she whispered back. It was a fear as old as she was. Her mother had stepped back, ostensibly for her own good. So had Steve. Don't even mention the shit Bill did. They had left Gail, the child, without a support structure. She'd struggled to find her own way, to trust people.

"Steve's not leaving. He's just leaving the force. He's still coming over for Sunday dinner. He's still going to be an asshole who celebrates Christmas as drunk as a skunk." Holly cupped Gail's face with both hands, rubbing her thumbs over Gail's cheeks.

All of those were true. But so was the fact that Gail was scared about what was coming next in life. "Okay," she replied.

This was not the place to voice her fears and doubts. Maybe later, when they were safe at home, she could voice the nagging doubts. That horrible, deep seated feeling of inadequacy that said she was a failure as a Peck. Even though they didn't control Toronto policing anymore, Gail still felt the incredible pressure to be the sort of person all the younger Pecks could look to as a goal.

Maybe it was worse because she had, inadvertently, changed the fundamental nature of Pecks.

"Hey," shouted Steve, his voice booming and laughing. "Stop being so damn cute over here, Garbage Pail."

"Hush, Steven," said Holly.

Gail smiled and turned to look up at Steve. Her brother was a little drunk and flushed, but he smiled ear to ear. And in that moment, she felt at ease. Her doubts fell away.

He had always taught her the important things in life. How to survive as a Peck, a cop, and a human. He taught her how to handle death, guilt, and and everything else. Perhaps paradoxically, the two things she'd taught him were love and fear.

It didn't matter if Steve was a cop or a rent a cop or retired or a stock boy. She would always have him within her.

Gail kissed Holly's cheek and stood up. "Come on, Holly. Let's make this lame ass loser party something awesome."


It was easy to skip out of the party. Holly hugged Steve and congratulated him. She told she loved him and she'd miss seeing his balding head in her office. She told Traci to take advantage of all the time they had. And then she took Gail's hand and tugged her out into the muggy August night.

Gail didn't say a thing. She smiled in the streetlamp light and kissed Holly softly, like she had all the time in the world.

"You're feeling better."

"I am."

At first Holly had worried that the old doubts and fears were creeping up, eating her alive. But then, when Steve had laughed loudly, they seemed to all fade away. Suddenly Gail was her confident self again. Suddenly she seemed lighter, as if the weighty responsibility of being the oldest Peck standing on the force was nothing.

No matter how many uncertainties Gail had about her abilities, Holly had seen her rise to the occasion every time. No one underestimated Gail more than Gail. Damn those Pecks.

Holly sighed and kissed Gail again. "Let's go home."

"I'm really okay, Holly," said Gail, sounding more sure than she had in a few days. "A little curious about what's going on with Viv. A little sad I won't be able to go downstairs and harass Steve. But kind of excited to see what's next." Gail smiled, the broad, toothy, smile that Holly loved. "Like... What if, instead of staying a cop forever, I went into SIU?"

That was new. "SIU? Investigate cops? I thought you said Pecks didn't do that."

Gail nodded. "They don't. But... I'm resetting what Peck means. Maybe it'll be a new thing."

Slowly, Holly smiled at her wife. "Would you have more free time?"

"I would."

"Then I like this plan."

Gail laughed. "What brought this on? I mean, I know Steve but... You hadn't mentioned a thing about me retiring before."

Sighing, Holly took Gail's hand and tugged her towards the car. She'd always had the idea of retiring before 75. "Mom's book. And I had a phone call this morning from the American Academy of Forensic Science."

She watched Gail screw up her face in distaste. "We're not moving to America."

Holly laughed. "God no. But they officially want me to talk at their conference in Boston this autumn."

Gail stopped dead in her tracks. "The asshats who turned you down for the last five years? They called? What the hell paper did you submit?"

And Holly grinned ear to ear. "I didn't. They heard about the 3D printer breakthrough."

"They asked you, out of the blue, to present?"

"They did."

It was majestic, watching Gail process that and then break out in a smile that eclipsed the sun, full of pride for her wife's success.

Once, once when Holly had finished a hockey game where she'd scored the winning goal, she'd been filthy and sweaty and exhausted. And Gail had kissed her, gear and all, and told her she was beautiful. That evening at dinner, Holly mentioned to Elaine she'd found it a little odd. Elaine had smiled and said that Gail couldn't just love Holly for her mind, she loved her for all the things that made her Holly.

Then and there, on the sidewalk, in the wet and warm August night, Holly knew that Gail loved her.

Holly knew she was loved for her mind and her body, for her heart and her own passions. The quirks that sabotaged her relationships before were respected and regarded highly. Her obsessive and meticulous nature was just something to smile about. The love Holly had for her job was to be expected and celebrated.

"I know you," Gail said softly, still beaming. "You said yes to them, that you'd do the talk, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Gonna knock their socks off and become some nerdy rock star?"

Holly laughed. "That's the plan, Stan."

"God, you're awesome. I'm coming with you. I want to see you make those old guys kick themselves."

"You just want to have sex in a hotel," teased Holly.

"No, I want to have sex at home. And I want go to a forensics' conference so when people ask me why I'm there I can say because my wife is a goddamned genius."

Letting go of Gail's hand, Holly opened the door to the car. "And sex at a hotel?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "You're such a horny pervert." She buckled in and nodded. "I will have sex with you wherever you want, Dr. Holly Stewart."

"Except at work," said Holly as she started the car.

"Except at work. Yes." Gail fiddled with the air conditioner and leaned in to the cool air. "We are incredibly lucky, aren't we."

"We are. We are." Holly smiled. They road home in quiet, Gail watching the night streetlights and traffic. At some point, Gail's hand absently found her knee, squeezing lightly.

When she pulled up at the garage, Holly giggled. "Remember when I bought you that car?"

Gail squinted at her. "Is there a surprise for me at home?"

"I don't think the plan for sex is a surprise."

"I should have presents," declared Gail, hopping out. "Pampering and chocolate and cheese puffs."

"How the hell you can still eat that shit and not gain weight..." Holly sighed.

Gail stopped inside the door and turned to face her wife. The roots of her platinum dye job were showing the auburn and reddish brown roots. Steve was the blondish ginger, Elaine had been a true red head, Bill had been brownish blonde. Gail looked like all their colors had been mixed together to make hers. She didn't seem tall until you realized she was just two inches shy of six feet. She had curves and looked in no way athletic, but Holly had seen her throw a man half a foot taller and significantly broader out of a car. Gail had run a marathon with Holly, and she'd played softball.

Standing there in the doorway, Gail was dressed in jeans, her favorite boots (God only knew what iteration - she'd had at least six since Holly had known her), and a loose sweater. It was simple, a little slouchy, but had been perfect for the casual retirement party. That was Steve's idea. He didn't want to have a big, formal, affair. He just invited everyone he knew and liked and still talked to, and had a party. Elaine had complained about the hotel cancellation.

The back of Holly's brain processed all that in a heartbeat. The front of her brain just looked at the woman and her mouth went dry. Looking at the same woman, every day, for twenty years hadn't gotten old. Her feelings hadn't faded. Be it complaining about hogging the blankets or the bed itself or eating terrible food, Holly realized she loved everything about the petulant, childish, morbid woman.

"Hello? Earth to Holly. You in there?" Gail was smirking.

"I was just thinking I love you," said Holly. "And you're incredibly attractive."

Gail rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go shower. Come upstairs and I'll wash your back."

Smiling, Holly followed Gail inside and up the stairs to wash more than just her wife's back.


Midnight was late. One AM was later. Getting away from the party had been harder than she thought since, once her parents left, everyone wanted to bother her. She finally ended up appealing to Traci, saying that she had a kind of a thing. And God bless Aunt Traci, she smiled and told her to go.

Still up?

No reply. Vivian sighed as she started her motorcycle, absently wishing for a car with air conditioning. She used to have Steve's old car. A detective's car. Vivian had loved it, as beaten and old as it was. It had been her car since she was a teen and she planned to keep it for years to come. The car, like Steve and Gail, was dependable. Loyal. Pecks were loyal after all. The motorcycle her moms still hadn't stopped harassing her over, but Holly had expressed enough jealousy to get Gail to shut up.

And now Steve was going to work for their mother's family, head of security at Armstrong Diamonds. It was a great job, great pay, and far easier and safer than being detective. But it still felt weird. Steve was a fixture at Fifteen. So was Noelle, but she retired. So was Sam, though he left for TwentySeven when she'd been a teenager. Soon, Gail was right, soon Nick would consider if he wanted to stay a patrol cop forever. Soon Dov would take that promotion and move further up the ranks at the big building. Soon Andy would step aside, like Boyko and Uncle Frank and Uncle Oliver had.

Soon would come way too fast for Vivian's taste.

Pulling up at her apartment, Vivian considered going in. Her mothers had suggested she spend the night back at the house, have a family breakfast like they used to. Really, Vivian didn't want to. Even if she did go back to the house, it was way too early. They'd be having sex, loudly. They had never really avoided sex if she was home but they did at least try to be considerate. Most of the time.

Mind, the headphones had been a very welcome present from Dov that one year. He said he knew how loud Gail could get. Vivian wisely did not tell him it was Holly that prompted the need for the headphones. At thirteen, she'd sometimes wear her shooting ear protection at night.

As much as she wanted to annoy Jamie's neighbors similarly, the lack of reply to her text told her the answer. No. She should go home. Her home. The condo. Obviously Jamie was asleep so Vivian should get some rest. Just as she decided that was a good plan, the phone rang and Vivian blinked at Jamie's face. She smiled and asked, "Hey, did I wake you?"

"No, I was in the shower. Where are you?"

"On my bike."

"Officer Peck," laughed Jamie. "Are you talking on the phone while driving?"

She smiled. There was something calming about Jamie. "No, I'm ... I'm about ten minutes away."

"Okay then. Ten minutes. Ruby won't be home till eight AM."

Vivian blushed suddenly. This was always the awkward part. "Okay," she stuttered back. "Ten minutes." Ten minutes and she'd be at a girl's house. Ten minutes to be able to kiss her. Vivian swallowed a dry throat and put the cycle back into gear. She did want this. She'd thought about very little else at night. She wanted to feel more than Jamie's hands on the small of her back, or her lips on Vivian's lips.

There were acres of muscles and curves on Jamie that she wanted to explore. She wanted to map out the freckles and the scars. She knew what the amazing brown eyes, the ones that were the color of fresh tiled, warm earth, looked like when they wanted more, but what did they look like when they'd been satisfied?

God, she wanted to get laid. Having parents who were constantly screwing did not help anyone's libido. It reminded her of what she was missing. Sex was, as Gail told her once, one of mankind's best discoveries. Her mother was right. Sex with Liv had been good, though not mind-blowing. Since then, she'd slept with a few other women, a couple classmates in college and a cute woman from the computer store. Sex was, generally speaking, pretty awesome. Sex also wasn't the problem.

The problem was actually sleeping, or not. She really hoped that would go away but to date, Vivian just did not sleep well when she was away from home. It had been her deepest fear about the condo. What if she couldn't sleep there either in the long run? So far it was working out alright. But it was also her worry about tonight. What would Jamie think, or say, if Vivian didn't stay the night?

Parking in the lot, Vivian chewed her lip as she walked up to the door and knocked softly. It was almost two in the morning. Sure, she was wide awake and even sober, and she had the next day off. And god, she wanted Jamie bad. Her dreams the last few nights had been vivid to say the least.

Jamie's hair was still a little damp when she opened the door, down and loose. "Good," exhaled the firefighter, standing on her toes to kiss Vivian before another word could be said. The back part of Vivian's brain filed away the fact that Jamie was barefoot, wearing a t-shirt from her station and a pair of cut off sweat shorts. It was both entirely un-sexy and incredibly hot.

Oh yeah, Viv had it bad right now. It got worse (or better) when Jamie's hands went up the back of her dressy shirt, under her riding jacket. Strong fingers on either side of her spine, carefully feeling the skin there. Finally. Oh god, finally. "Wait," she mumbled into Jamie's lips as those got a little needier too.

They paused and she pulled away, the cop and Peck in her demanding she make sure that door was closed and locked. It was a habit she couldn't break if she tried, she knew it, and Jamie smirked a cocky kind of grin. "You look amazing," she noted, taking in Vivian's attire for the first time.

Certain her face was flushed, feeling overheated from her head to her toes (though mostly her center, if Viv was being honest), Vivian stepped back into Jamie's personal space. "You smell amazing." Her voice was quiet. She couldn't be any louder, just in case it knocked them out of this moment of clarity.

Jamie's hands gripped her shirt, pulling her as she stepped back. They didn't really need to say much as they made it down the hall, but as they reached a door, Jamie hesitated and asked, "Do you want to shower?"

That wasn't good. "Do I smell?"

"You smell a little like a bar," admitted Jamie. "Actually you smell like booze. Don't taste like it, though."

"Stupid Steve," grumbled Vivian, the blush rising up her neck when the 'taste' comment sunk in. "He spilled tequila on me."

Smirking, Jamie kissed her again, a little less aggressive. "You're lucky you didn't get pulled over."

Vivian melted into that kiss. "I am stone cold sober, McGann." But now she was totally nervous about her smell. "Why don't I shower?"

Bless her, Jamie laughed softly. "I'm totally winning this moment. You'd think I've never slept with a hot girl before."

"Well you haven't slept with me," Vivian pointed out, practically.

"Wow. Ego much?" But Jamie was smiling. "And you brought a bag too. Were you planning on getting laid, Peck? Cause I could change my mind and just want to cuddle."

Looking at her watch, Vivian joked, "Look at the time. I should go."

But she wasn't serious and neither was Jamie. "Shower's right there. My room's this one." Jamie paused in the doorway to the room at the end of the hall.

There was a weird moment, awkward and shy, and Vivian solved it by ducking into the bathroom. Was it always this weird, the first time you slept with someone? It had and hadn't been with Liv. There had been a lot more making out and couch time before this moment. Her last girlfriend, if Beth could be called that, had been far too fast paced from start to finish. They'd gone out a few times, casually, before they ended up in bed. And then she'd been dumped by text.

Vivian was not like Lisa had been, that was for sure. It was the downside to growing up with Holly and Gail. You started to expect things to work out like that, and then they didn't. She also wasn't bi, if that horrible experience kissing Christian was any indication. She had no memory of looking at men and thinking they looked sexy, and while everyone joked that it was because she had two mothers, Gail had an unabashed appreciation for the male form. Of course, Gail also was head over heels in love with Holly.

The bathroom was clearly both Jamie's and Ruby's. "And I didn't ask which towel," sighed Vivian. The odds were it was the damp one, though. As her grandfather Brian would say, chance favored the prepared mind, and she pulled a gym towel from her bag. Once she was out of her clothes, Vivian was surprised that they really did reek of booze and sweat. Didn't Gail once tell Holly her sweat was sexy? God. Parents.

Studiously not thinking about her parents, Vivian scrubbed herself off and even washed her hair. She'd shaved that afternoon, before the party, but took a moment to brush her teeth again. Yes, they'd been kissing already, but it couldn't hurt. Then the only decision left was what to wear to the bedroom? Towel or the long t-shirt? Gail would say towel. Holly would roll her eyes. T-shirt. And the shorts.

With the towel around her shoulders, Vivian stepped out of the bathroom and nearly broke up laughing. Jamie was standing beside her bed, still dressed, looking nervous and indecisive. "Can I guess?" She smiled, stopping in the doorway.

"God, I hope I'm not that obvious," sighed Jamie, not looking over.

"You were trying to figure out if you should be in the bed or on the bed or what by the time I got out." Vivian put her bag down and closed the door behind her. "And you're thinking that you forgot to tell me what towel to use. Also probably a bit of fantasy because I was naked in there, and you haven't seen me naked yet. So you got distracted by that and your indecision and you're possibly thinking about how we left my bike helmet on the counter and Ruby might see it. But you're too nervous to turn around and see what I'm wearing." She paused. "I'm not naked right now, Jamie."

Jamie glanced over. "Okay. That is the most I have ever heard you say in one go."

Leaning against the closed door, Vivian smiled more. "But accurate?"

"Disturbingly. How'd you do that?"

"Generations of policing in the family." Taking the towel off her neck, she hung it on the hook on the back of Jamie's door.

"And the towel?"

Vivian pursed her lips. "I just realized the answer makes me sound like a player." And Jamie smiled at her easily. That grin that made her feel warm. "I like to be prepared." The grin grew wider and Jamie sat on the edge of her bed. Vivian walked up and stood in front of her, quietly.

This was easier. This she was confident about. Vivian leaned down, gently cupping Jamie's face to kiss her. Start simple. Start with just kissing. That had been Gail's advice about sex. Let it happen naturally. That was Holly's suggestion. Other people might be embarrassed to take their parents' advice about sex but Vivian's had not been wrong yet. Just start with what was easy and let what happened next happen.

The kissing was easy. The kissing was easy and good and lit a fire in her, low and deep, burning. Jamie scooted back, her hands reaching to hold the backs of Vivian's legs. "You're too tall," muttered Jamie.

"You're just short for being a fireman."

Jamie smiled into the kiss, her grip pulling Vivian down. "This works better if you lie down."

"Pushy." But she moved around and stretched out next to Jamie, still kissing her. The kisses moved from lazy and warming to hungry and hot. Jamie's hands were on her skin, the shirt pushed up to her ribs. She wanted to just pull clothes off both of them and delve into every inch of the woman beside her.

She hated taking it slow. Conversely, she loved the discovery. She loved the inch by precious inch of reveal, the way she learned new things about Jamie. Like the sound Jamie made when her fingers brushed the swell of a breast. There was also the way Jamie's grip of her shoulder tightened as they kissed. That was great.

So they slowly, slowly, eased each other out of clothes and into comfort. Comfort with touching each other. That happened quickly. Some moments were inelegant, but they found a good, easy pace between them, where hands and legs found the right places to be. And they lingered in those places, taking time to find what made the other whimper and what made her gasp. It was the exploration that was beautiful.

And when, finally, they found that peaceful place beyond, where all that existed was quiet and that specific feeling of flowing warmth. Jamie was smiling, already most of the way into sleep, and Vivian propped herself up on one arm to watch. She wasn't tired. Well, no, she was bushed, but she was also far too keyed up in the other way. Her body was relaxed at least.

Closing her eyes, Vivian tried to will her brain to relax and turn off, but it wasn't happening. Every time she managed to get to the state where sleep might come along, her back would tense and her mind would tickle her with a memory. She was twenty-four years old. She had trouble sleeping in someone else's bed, at someone else's house.

By four in the morning, she gave up and started to slide out of the bed, only to have a hand follow her, catching her hip. "Hey, where you going?" Jamie's voice was sleepy and thick.

"Can't sleep," she sighed. This was the part that rarely ended well.

The hand rubbed her hip, and Jamie said something unexpected. "Yeah. I get that." And then she asked, "Come back?"

Hesitating, Vivian scootched back and let Jamie wrap an arm around her waist. "Didn't want to wake you." She tried not to be tense, but the after sex cuddling was still not her thing.

To her surprise, Jamie kissed her on her back, right between her shoulders. This was not cuddling. "Don't worry, you didn't." Another kiss. The arm around her waist tightened and pressed them closer together. "I was really nervous," she admitted, her hand sweeping along Vivian's side. "You don't talk a whole lot."

"I'm not very interesting."

"Liar. You're very interesting." There was another kiss to the back of her neck. The hand ran across her stomach. "I find you very interesting, even if you're quiet. Maybe because of it..." Jamie sighed and the hand went to the top of Vivian's thigh. "You can't sleep."

The hand was very, very distracting. "Insomnia," she admitted, reluctantly. It was nowhere near the whole story. But. Unlike many of her exes, Jamie shared a complicated and high stress job, where sleeping problems were almost normal.

"Well. I'm awake too." And Jamie's hand proceeded to distract more of her, until there were very few thoughts in her head.

Jamie knew what she was doing with a woman. There was no awkward fumbling, but no rushing either, unlike two of her exes. Once she'd overheard Chloe referring to it as sweet, sapphic, lady love and, in the split second before Gail warned Chloe that her ingenuity for pain knew no bounds, teenaged Vivian had snorted her soda out her nose.

But in the early summer morning, that's what it was. Sweet and gentle, Jamie took her time in her own explorations with her hands and her lips. She led Vivian up to the edge and then down again, over and over, until finally setting her free. Oh god, no wonder her parents were always trying to get laid. Good sex was good, but this was beyond just good. This was great. Her entire body felt satisfied and heavy.

"You're really good at that," breathed Vivian as Jamie settled alongside her. Not on her. That was good. A little space. Maybe Jamie liked that too.

"Second time is always better." Jamie's voice was amused. "Besides, you were pretty damn amazing last night. You think it's because you have two moms?"

"Lara asked me that once," sighed Vivian, eyes closed.

"Which one is Lara?"

"Jogging partner."

"Ah yes, Miss 'I ran four miles?!' I remember her." Jamie traced lines across Vivian's stomach. Not really sensually, but more soothing and relaxing. It was sort of working. "Viv, this is the part where you tell me what you said. Or are you trying to tell me she's your ex?"

Vivian smiled. "No. I have four exes, and none are from work."

"That's good. Cappy told me not to date around at work. Then she told me all about a cousin of hers who did that."

"Probably my Mom." That brought silence from the rather postcoital chatty firefighter. "Your Captain is Shay Peck, right?"

"Yeah..." Jamie sounded nervous. "She's really related? Crap. You don't look like her."

"I'm adopted," yawned Vivian. God she was tired. "Mom dated a couple cops before she met Mom."

Jamie was quiet for a moment. "Yeah that's weird."

"Why? You date who you meet."

"No, not that. Hello, I slipped you my digits at a crime scene." Jamie chuckled and Vivian smirked. "I mean, you call them both Mom? Isn't it confusing?"

"Nope." She popped the P like Gail and grinned. One could shout out Peck at Fifteen division and the five of them (four now, sans Steve) always knew which one was meant.

And Jamie laughed. She had a wonderful laugh, soft and bubbly and gentle, but from this deeply warm and safe place. "You're very strange, Vivian Peck... Do you have a middle name?"

She did. "Stewart. My other Mom." For a while she'd thought about taking Holly as a middle name instead, but with Jerry Hollis Shaw, that felt like enough. And hyphenation just meant her name tag would be incredibly long and alphabetically weird.

"She a Peck too?" When Vivian mumbled a no, Jamie wondered, "I can't imagine that conversation. How do you pick a kid's name when you have different last names?"

"They didn't. I changed it when I was eighteen." She felt Jamie startle. "I asked Mom- Holly first."

There was a heaviness to the air, Jamie looking thoughtful. She probably wanted to ask how old Vivian was when she was adopted, or what her birth-name was. It wasn't a conversation Vivian was ready to have, so she reached up and cupped Jamie's chin, drawing her down to kiss. Avoidance wasn't good, but for right now, for the beginning, it was alright.


That she didn't know who the new Inspector was bothered Gail.

Technically they should have met before Steve retired, but the plans of mice, men, and cops never ran to form. When her cousin in the big building texted her to say that Inspector Seabourn would be there at lunch, Gail warned Andy and hustled through her paperwork to be free.

It was clear the new Inspector wanted to surprise them. Asshole. Thankfully her newly reorganized units were running just fine. Having to work with three separate Inspectors (Wagner at TwentySeven, Galbraith at ThiryFour, and now Seabourn at her own Fifteen) had given her a peculiar skill set. She had mastered politics. Elaine was probably proud of her. But she knew how to talk to the inspectors, what they wanted to hear, and how to make them do what she wanted.

Not Noelle, of course, and Steve was only titularly inspector so he could have a bump in pay before retiring. Wagner, haughty and old school (aka old boys), though he was in charge and Gail was just a little troublesome. Really she just smiled her 'nice' smile and talked to him like she had to Chris when they were dating. Play dumb and he was putty. Galbraith, a new world woman, was firm and unyielding, but gave Gail free reign to do whatever she wanted.

Seabourn, Zeke Seabourn, had worked in UC for years, and then Intelligence. He was a squirrelly kind of fellow, the sort you distrusted as a matter of course. Younger than Gail, he'd been a name Oliver remembered as a fast tracked rookie the year Gail's car had blown up. The day his name was passed down as the next Inspector, Gail asked Chloe for intel and been amazed to find little.

The man was a paper hero. Which either meant he was amazingly good at his job or he was evil as hell. Sadly, Gail was going to have to wait to find out. She hated waiting.

As she turned the corner down the hall on the main floor, Gail nearly plowed into Nick. "Hey, here to spy?" He was far too cheerful.

"On you? Not unless I feel like needing anti-viagra," replied Gail. She cared a little more about spilling her coffee than bantering with Nick. A lot more. Shut up inner voices.

"On Viv. She's interrogating."

Gail blinked and stared at Nick. "Oh. She is?" Trying to keep herself calm, Gail sipped her coffee. Her daughter was running an interrogation. Her kid was old enough and experienced enough to run an interrogation.

"Fox is watching her. Supervising." Nick's eyes flickered to the room, and Gail recognized the worry in it. Of course. Vivian was his rookie. Her future reflected directly on him.

That actually made Gail feel better. "Who've they got in the can?"

Nick scratched his chin. "The bartender from the drag club."

"He was a suspect?"

"After the lab work on the knife had his prints."

Gail made a face. "He's a bartender. They tend to use them."

"Not this kind." Nick held up his phone and showed off a photo of a hunting knife with blood on it.

"Ick. I thought she was killed with a bottle. And... Wait the boyfriend confessed."

Tucking his phone away, Nick nodded. "That's where it gets messy. Bartender was also dating the boyfriend."

"So?" Gail canted her head to the side. "Got a problem with open relationships?"

Her ex was too used to her. Nick just rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gail. Don't make me show Vivian the video of you after your root canal."

Gail pointed at him. "There is no such video, you ass." She couldn't help but smirk at him. There was a video. She had seen it. "Besides, she's seen me on narcotic pain killers."

Nick sighed wistfully. "You're so fun when you're drugged. Why can't you be that way all the time?"

Punching Nick's shoulder, Gail walked past him and opened the door to observation. "Now I have to watch my kid." Nick followed her, laughing, and flicked on the audio.

"Do a lot of hunting?" Vivian's voice was calm. She was sitting at the table, posture relaxed. Actually more relaxed than normal. Interesting.

"What? Uh, some. Fishing. That's what the knife is for. Gutting fish." The bartender looked scared.

Vivian shook her head. "I don't hunt. Do you, Fox?"

The detective, leaning against the door, shook his head. "Nope."

"I fish sometimes, though. Nice big lake up north. I go up with my family. You ever do that stuff?"

The bartender shook his head. "No." But he didn't sound sure.

Vivian nodded. "We fish. Get a boat or a canoe, spend a lazy day fishing. You have to gut them before you can freeze them, you know. My uncle taught me how. Get the scales off first. Put your hand on the fish and carefully cut into it... Except, you have to use a special kind of knife."

Now the bartender looked stricken. "She sounds like you," said Nick, thoughtfully.

"What?" Gail blinked and turned to eye him.

"The way you tell a story that sounds like it has nothing to do with the situation, and suddenly they realize you know everything and they are just screwed." Nick shook his head. "Can she wait them out like you? It's a crazy as fuck talent."

Gail shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen her do it before." And it wasn't like Vivian saw Gail interrogate anyone. The waiting, yes, Gail was prone to do that at home when younger Vivian had been difficult. And, yes, she'd done the round-about story to talk Vivian off the metaphorical ledge after that breakup with Olivia.

Huh.

Had she given her daughter the tools to be a good cop, an effective cop, without meaning to? Without intending to? Parenthood was just weird. You were who you were and somehow you helped a person become who they were.

"Well. She's got this down. Think she'll apply for the detective rotation?"

"No," said Gail with a sigh. "She's going to be her own thing." She finished her coffee. "Is McNally in her office still?"

"Think so."

"Right." With a passing glance back at her kid, who was explaining to the bartender how gutting a fish with that knife and his hands would end with disaster, Gail walked down the hall to the glass office that bore the name McNally.

The door was open and Andy looked up as Gail stepped inside. "Gail, do you ever feel like a fraud? Having your name on a door?"

Gail looked at the door for a moment. "No. Why?"

"My dad... He was a detective. I always thought I would be too."

"You're shitty at it," Gail pointed out, closing the door behind her. "Besides, Sgt. McNally, you're your own woman. Isn't that why Frank gave you a new badge?"

McNally startled. "You knew?"

"Jesus, McNally. You went from 616 to 8722. Of course we figured that out." Gail dropped into the chair opposite her classmate. "Seabourn freaking you out?"

The sergeant nodded. "I wish it was someone I knew, or even remembered."

"He was here for a year." Not that Gail really remembered him either.

"Yeah, the year I wasn't allowed to have anything to do with rookies."

"Thank you, Gerald," muttered Gail.

"Actually it was after that," replied Andy. "He was under Gagnon."

Samantha Gagnon.

Well that was a blast from the past. He was Gail's grand-rookie? But that wasn't what Gail said out loud. "Wait, what did I miss that you were banned from TO a second time?"

"I was doing the thing with drugs. They wanted me to be more believable so I couldn't know the rookies."

Gail laughed. "Oh right! And what's his face, Derek? He tackled you!" The karmatic justice had been hilarious. That was back when McNally was still married to Swarek too. Even Oliver had to laugh about it.

Andy rolled her eyes at Gail. "Remind me why I talk to you?"

"Because I know Seabourn's coming here in an hour. And I'm nice enough to tell you."

She was also evil enough to revel in Andy's panic face. Yeah. That was totally why Gail hadn't just called.

"Shit!" Andy knocked her (empty) cup over. "Oh god. I'm not ready for this. I should have stayed in juvie."

Gail snorted. "Your soul was being eaten. Calm your tits, McNally. You've been at this gig for months. Noelle said you were ready. If she said it, you know it's true."

Chewing her lip, Andy nodded. "Why aren't you doing it? The Inspector thing?"

"Uh, fact check. I am an Inspector. And I'll outrank tweedledum." She waved a hand dismissively. "I chose not to be a paper chasing monkey."

Andy looked a little jealous. "I wish I'd known what I wanted."

"To be? Don't beat yourself up. We're all guessing."

"Oh? Says the inspector, married twenty damn years, with a kid who's actually a successful adult."

"Guessing every fucking day," said Gail, firmly. "My guesses happen to be right, since I'm awesome, but." She tapped the rim of her coffee mug. "Look, let's get some tea and you can practice justifying your numbers on me."

Suspicious, Andy stood up. "You're being nice to me. Why are you being nice to me?"

"I'm looking forward to you spazzing out and spilling your tea all over some kid younger than we are," Gail said blithely, leading Andy out of the office.


"Done!" Holly stabbed the keys, Apple-S. Done. She was finally, finally done. "Gail! Feed me!"

The office door creaked open and Gail's amused face popped in. "You are damn lucky I love you."

There was a dish towel on Gail's shoulder, indicative of cooking. "Whadja make me?"

"Lamb, roast veggies. It'll be another hour or so."

Holly groaned. "I'm hungry now. I used up all my energy on brain."

Gail laughed. "I can make you an appetizer. Crostini?"

"I love you." Holly smiled at Gail.

"Yeah, don't smile like that." Coming inside, Gail kissed her lips and forehead. "You smile that, with that silly quirk, and give me that look with your eyes, and suddenly I'm playing basketball with stupid McNally."

Of course Holly smiled more. "Or you could kiss me again." She reached up and tugged at Gail's belt loops, pulling her closer, angling for another kiss. The blonde made a pleased noise and sat in Holly's lap, her hands on Holly's shoulders. Holly sighed happily, running her fingers over the top of Gail's jeans.

After a little while, Gail leaned back. "I thought you were hungry, not horny."

"I was, and then you came in."

Smirking, Gail leaned her head back in, one hand threading through Holly's hair. Much better, decided Holly. While she loved to tease Gail that her wife got flirty and handsy when she closed a case, there really was something about the feeling of a job well done that made a person feel like either babbling or expending energy.

Her chair creaked as Gail settled more in her lap. The blonde's free hand started to make work on Holly's buttons and the office chair wobbled just enough to remind Holly of the time Gail's previous chair had broken under similar situations. Which naturally reminded Holly of the gales of laughter their daughter had graced them with as they sat on the couch downstairs icing their head (Gail) and elbow (Holly).

But that wasn't what put a hold on their little make-out session. No, no, it was Holly's stomach growling. Loudly.

"Oh man, that's embarrassing," muttered Holly as Gail laughed.

"I knew you were hungry." Gail kissed her nose and managed to get up incredibly gracefully.

As she watched Gail saunter back out of the office, Holly remarked, "I love that you do yoga."

Raising her fist high with a thumbs up, Gail replied, "Welcome!"

Holly sighed happily and fixed her shirt before following her wife down the stairs. One dish of crostini with pesto and bocconcini later, plus a glass of wine, and they found themselves on the couch, lazily kissing and making their way back in the direction started in the office.

As much as she missed having Vivian around the house, it was freeing to have the place to themselves. There was no need to worry, in the back of her brain, that someone might come thundering through the living room. Instead, all Holly paid attention to was the way Gail's shirt was riding up and how smooth her skin was.

The weight of the blonde along side her was comforting and alluring at once. Holly had not grown tired or bored of Gail; how could she? Witty and smart and beautiful, Gail just was everything Holly had ever wanted. Everything she'd dreamed about finding. The love her parents had, the easy and seemingly effortless life where they fit just right.

Now she had that too.

Now Holly knew that seemingly easy wasn't. But it was worth it. They'd had their fights and disagreements, of course, but for a moment like this... Gail grumbled and reached up to push a pillow off the couch. "I hate your pillows."

Holly laughed. "You didn't say that when I bought them."

"They weren't taking up room when I was trying to get in your pants." Gail shifted her weight and kicked the pillows off. "There." She huffed and slung a leg over Holly's, pinning her down.

"Hello." Holly grinned and ran her hands up Gail's arms. "Why are you up there?"

"Oh. Admiring." Gail braced her hands on either side of Holly's head and leaned in, kissing Holly's jaw and then neck.

God that felt good. Holly groaned happily. Every day should have this. Holly took hold of Gail's shirt, holding her in place. She reached up to take off her glasses with her free hand, when the doorbell rang. "Ignore that," Holly instructed.

While Holly ignored it, Gail apparently could not. "Hang on."

Groaning, Holly tightened her hold on Gail's shirt. "No."

Her wife rolled her eyes. "Come on, who rings the damn doorbell here? Kid has a key." She had a point and Holly reluctantly let go.

"Make them go away. I want a quickie before dinner."

"Bossy bossy." Gail tugged her shirt into place and trotted over to the door. "I'll tell 'em to come back later," she promised, only to throw the door open with a delighted yelp. "MATTY!"

What? Holly peeked over the couch and saw the tall frame of Vivian's longest, oldest friend. "Matt!?" Hastily she fixed her shirt and rushed to the door, where Gail had hauled the poor boy into a hug.

They'd not seen him since his surprise visit for Vivian's police academy graduation. While Vivian talked to him regularly and gave reports, it wasn't the same as seeing him in the flesh. "Hi, Holly. Um. Help?"

"Gail," admonished Holly. As soon as her wife, sheepishly, let go of the boy though, Holly gave him an equally big hug. Which was when she noticed one more person. Vivian, of course.

Vivian grinned. "Surprise. He's crashing on my couch for a couple days." The girl ushered everyone inside and out of the heat.

"Did Enrico kick you out?" Gail got right to the point. "Did you get deported? Oh tell me there was a sex scandal!"

Matty groaned. "You haven't changed at all."

"Hey! Who changes perfection, kid?" Gail grinned.

"Seriously, she's only gotten worse." Vivian grinned.

Smiling, Matty explained. "I'm moving back. We. We are moving back. Enrico got a job at the Canadian Opera Company. And I got hired by the company who does most of the costumes. So ..." Matty spread out his arms.

Gail perked up. "Can you get us tickets?"

"Gail!" Holly swatted her arm. "We have season tickets!"

The oven timer went off. "And we have dinner. Minions, set my table," ordered Gail. "Matthew, why are you staying at Vivian's and not your dad's?"

"He's selling the condo." Matty took the plates from Vivian, who was already laying out place mats. "My room is boxes. Besides, I wanted to see my bestie."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "He has a place closer to the city, but the AC is out. Also his dad has a girlfriend so it's me or his brother."

"Who has a studio."

"Your dad doesn't. You just don't want to hear him getting it on with his girl."

Holly smiled as she watched Vivian and Matty banter. Even with Christian, Vivian was a little restrained. But her and Matty, they had become incredibly close. He'd never taken sides when Olivia and Vivian dated or broke up (though privately Matty told Holly he was on Vivian's side). Even when he left, he was the only peer she had that she could talk to.

It was nice to see Vivian smiling like that again.

The evening was not what she had planned or expected. Holly had been hoping for a little sex and then food and then, maybe, sex again. If they weren't too full. Instead it was warm and hilarious.

A less embarrassed Vivian told them about how she'd cracked someone in interrogation, getting the bartender to admit he was taking the rap for his boyfriend. The two men had been in an open relationship with the dead woman, who had wanted to dump the killer and be monogamous. The killer had not taken that well and, as happened, murdered the woman.

"Wait, but why would the bartender cover?" Matty was confused.

"Oh I know," said Gail, wisely. "He didn't want to break up. He was going to dump the girl and keep his boy."

Vivian tapped her nose. "But he didn't tell his lover boy that in time."

Shaking her head, Holly pointed out, "You two are awfully cavalier about telling a civilian about cases."

For a moment, Vivian looked worried. But then she tossed her hair a little. "He already gave his plea deal, guilty for covering up a crime, to the lawyers. The other one had his signed confession. At this point, the best he can say is we coerced him into a confession."

"And I won't tell anyone," promised Matty. "Viv tells me lots of stuff I don't tell anyone."

There was a moment of thought at the table. Holly was sure Gail was trying to think up what stuff that might be. But Holly, lacking police telepathy, just asked. "So you knew about the Liv and kissing thing?"

Matty exhaled. "Thank god you told them, Viv! That was crazy!"

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Vivian. "I was trying to give Liv the benefit of the doubt."

"For a year!" Matty shook his head. "How come she's so nice?"

Holly had to laugh. "Nice? She tricked Nick into selling her that motorcycle, and she didn't tell any of her rookie class she was Gail's kid. She has as devious a sense of humor as the rest of us."

Her wife shot Matty a look of long suffering. "She gets it from Holly. A genuinely nice person."

"Clearly not from you." Matty smirked. He was so comfortable around them now. He hadn't always been. When he'd been a scrawny fifteen year old, he'd been awkward and shy. A year younger than Vivian, he'd been an odd man out for so many reasons. Coming to terms with being gay had been one hurdle. Finding his father was there for him at the end had helped immeasurably.

Then at sixteen, when Gail taught him to drive, Matty's regular hang out became their house. Any time his father was out of town for work, Matty stayed over. That had lasted until the end of their senior year, when Vivian had gotten weird about Olivia. For a while, Holly had worried that Vivian and Olivia would end up shutting poor Matty out, but instead Vivian and Matty found an odd closeness.

The two could go weeks without talking and then start up again as if the conversation had just paused, like a video game. They had a shorthand and in-jokes. If they hadn't both been gay, they'd be perfect for each other. But then again, if they weren't gay, they probably never would have been so close.

"You know, you could stay here," said Holly, at a break in the conversation. "Since Vivian has a roommate, we actually have a spare bedroom."

Matty hesitated. "No, no thank you, Holly. I kinda want to hang out with my best girl."

"Awww, I'm your best girl?" Vivian giggled, faux-simpering, and Matty shoved her arm.

"Hey yours are the only boobies I've ever touched."

While Holly blinked in surprise, her daughter snorted. "Now that's not true! I met Chuck. He had man boobs."

"Moobs are not boobs," Matty corrected.

"I'll take your word on it."

Gail, seemingly unflustered about the conversation, gestured with her fork. "Two votes for moobs being nothing at all like boobs, and I'm probably the only one at the table who actually has sexual experience with both."

Matty cringed. "Ew."

"Dork." Vivian shook her head. "Wait, who had moobs!? Don't tell me Nick was fat... No, wait, tell me Nick was fat and you have photos of flabby Nick that I can pin up in the station!"

"Oh my god, you are totally Gail's daughter," teased Matty. "Holly, I thought she was nice."

"Nicely evil," said Holly, smiling.

A few hours later, after the kids left in Matty's beat up car that he'd driven from New York, the house was clean and quiet again. Mostly clean. Holly felt herself being watched as she finished loading the dishwasher. Turning she flicked it on and spotted Gail leaning in the archway, smiling. Holly arched an eyebrow in silent question to her wife.

Gail didn't move. "I was thinking we're kind of awesome. I kind of feel like Matty's our nephew or something."

"He certainly talks to us more than my godson," noted Holly. Though that wasn't quite true. Jerry Shaw, back when Vivian was babysitting him and Chris Epstein regularly, had been in awe of Holly. He was now an emo teenaged Wiccan who loved science and math, but didn't talk to anyone.

"Jerry is almost seventeen and a boy. They're weird."

"That's true. But Matty... Yeah. He's different."

Gail snorted. "He's a gay boy with a psycho mom. At least Chris and Jerry have intelligent, empathetic parents."

"Poor Matty. Can you imagine if he'd never met Vivian? Or us."

"That's what I was thinking. One thing, one decision to foster, and look at the the lives we changed? We are totally awesome."

It was sort of wonderful and marvelous to see the ripple effect your actions had on the universe. Holly had to admit she was delighted to see that she'd had a positive impact on things. Normally, in their line of work, they brought closure to people in pain. There weren't always a lot of happy endings, as much as they might wish for it. Not everything involved death and destruction, but certainly something 'bad' or 'wrong' had to happen to bring them in.

But in this moment, a friend of a child they'd adopted had come to them to celebrate moving home. Because they were his family too. Because they'd made the world a little better for Vivian, and Matty, and by extension, every life those two touched. The ripple effect was a marvelous thing.

Holly smiled and kissed Gail's cheek as she walked past her. "We are. Are you going to stand down here smiling, or are you coming to bed?"

Swatting Holly's butt, Gail chased her up the stairs, laughing.


We're at the half-way point in the season. Can you figure out what's going on?

Yes, Matty touched Vivian's boobs in a non-sexual way when they were teenagers. He was making her clothes and the boobs needed to be fit. He said they were odd. Vivian gave him a purple nurple.