03.10 - The Girlfriend Experience

A phenomenally bad day causes Vivian to rethink her priorities and, after an injury on the job, she and Jamie go up to the Peck cottage for some much needed rest and relaxation.

This has absolutely nothing to do with kidnappings, Perik, or being undercover. I'm serious.

It is, however, a two part chapter. Because it got too long. In the good way.


There were days Vivian wanted the universe to implode.

Today was one of them.

It was supposed to be a normal day, with a call in to a building that was known for shootings and drugs, when someone reported a fire. Seeing the smoke, Rich and his partner for the day had quickly booked a retreat to the safe line and let the firefighters rush in.

Normal, when one's girlfriend was a firefighter, also meant seeing her station show up. And it was a semi-normal day, seeing her girlfriend kitted up with the rest, heading into a building. Normal, right? Jamie always did that. It was normal for the woman to run into fires, put them out, get people out, and come back out.

Normal was for Vivian and her ETF crew rolled up just in time to see the firefighters. And normal was for rookie Bomb Girl, Vivian Peck, to be kept at the back of the pack and on the tape line with Rich. Normal was getting teased by her classmate, asking if she was really ETF. Normal was asking him if that was his gun or was he happy to see her.

Normal.

So when the explosion hit, Vivian felt her stomach drop.

"Holy Mary, mother of God," said Rich.

The upper windows of the building blew out, on one side only. Reflex had Vivian lifting her hand to where her radio used to sit. ETF didn't wear them on their shoulders. Her hand went to her radio, but her thumb refused to press the button. There was no air in her lungs, none fit to form a word at least. All she could really be sure of was that the firefighters were scrambling like mad.

A hand on hers stopped her from trying.

Sgt. Smith. His voice was calm and controlled. "Gas explosion. It's shut off now, but we're calling the building a loss. We radioed in for another bus. Gear up, Peck. They may need us."

Right. Her job now was this. "Yes, sir." Vivian was surprised to hear her own voice was calm.

"And get Rover ready." And he tossed her the controller.

Vivian bobbled her head. "Yes, sir." She could do that. It was something to concentrate on.

"What's Rover?" Rich sounded confused.

"Robot." Vivian turned on the controller and went to take the 'bot out of its box. "We have a camera and everything." It took a few minutes to set up, but she had Rover up and ready before Sgt. Smith was back. "Rover ready, sir."

The sergeant nodded. "Send it in. Radio to seven, but ears on Rover."

"Yes, sir." She turned her eyes to the monitor. Going through the motions was a great way not to think about the fact that her girlfriend was in there. Jamie did this every day. Well. Not every day. Still. Vivian trained for her bit, Jamie trained for hers. They had to trust.

Ignoring Rich, she focused on the remote control. Looking at the world via Rover's screen was difficult. The view was lower to the ground than humans saw, it didn't interpret sound like a human. Even with headphones on, the directional audio wasn't what she was used to yet. Vivian was sure that, eventually, she'd be accustomed to e new normal.

It was harder to pilot Rover through the smoke than she'd thought. The controlled situation of the tests Vivian had done in the staging rooms was wildly different. Vivian squinted, not that it helped, and tried to make sense of what she was seeing and hearing. This was, she had to admit, the most safe position for her. Rover was just there to check rooms. No bombs and no criminals. Just room checks.

Vivian had to admit that it was a good experience. A learning experience in a relatively safe scenario. Except for the part where her girlfriend was running around a structural fire. This was probably how Holly felt when Gail was off doing something crazy. Or when Vivian was. Oh, fine. Karma.

Her radio squawked. "Anyone got eyes on McGann and Silver?"

She felt a chill. Jamie and her partner, Jesús Silver, were still in there and now they couldn't find them. Panic ran through her, followed by a moment of clarity. Okay. She had Rover. Rover could make it up stairs. Jamie was upstairs, clearing the rooms. Carefully she steered Rover to the front stairs and grimaced. They were too unstable but it would take too long to go around.

"God, how much trouble will I be in if I break Rover?" It was rhetorical.

She sent her robot up the steps and cranked the audio. Fire cracklings. Creaks. The sound of burning. If Vivian was there, she'd close her eyes and use the ambiance to direct her. Instead, she had to use the visual and audio from Rover. Slowly panning clockwise, she checked the open doors. How did Jamie said they marked doors? Nope, couldn't remember.

Logically, they'd go back to front, wouldn't they? Double out to the furthest from the stairs so they could come back down at the end? Right, so start near and head deep, backtrack until she found them. As she started down the hallway, Rover's video and audio started to go wonky. Vivian carefully adjusted the settings, trying to clear it up.

That was when she heard it.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The sound was soft and subtle. It was weird. She looked at the audio playback and tapped the screen. Directions. Audible. Vivian replayed it. Doing the math wasn't easy. It required assumptions and guesswork. But in theory she could triangulate the location source of the sound, which was likely from wherever the hell the missing firefighters were.

Where her girlfriend was.

"4727! Found 'em!" Damn it. Calling out with her badge first was habit. "I mean. Crap. Peck, I got eyes on the firefighters."

Sgt. Smith was on the radio in a flash. "Details, Peck!"

She took it all in. It was too smokey and the video quality was still shit. Like circa 2005 cell phones videos. Jerky and it cut out. That meant the digital signal was being interrupted by the level of heat between them. And probably the building walls. Vivian adjusted the feed until it stabilized.

What she saw was bad. "Second floor. Silvers is down. McGann's pulling his kit off and pairing their rebreathers. She's hitting her radio but I can't hear her."

"Copy, we have no signal from their beacons. What's Silvers look like?"

"Uh, he's smoking. In ... He has some plastic shit burning on his legs."

A new voice cut in, someone familiar but not one Vivian knew well enough to ID. Probably a firefighter. "Tertiary fire. We can see it out the window. Peck, can you lead 'em out?"

"Uh, yes. I can, but the stairs are pretty shit already."

"Back exit's compromised. We're getting a ladder to the south, but the stairs would be best."

"Copy." Vivian chewed her lip and flashed the lights on Rover. Jamie flashed a thumbs up at Rover and then hefted Silvers (Jesús! Right!) into a fireman's carry. It was impressive, she had to admit. "McGann's got Silvers, we're headed down."

With the headlights on, Rover went first. Vivian turned the flash on, so it would be easier (she hoped) for others to spot. The stairwell was going to take them right to the front door, so at least it would be quick to get her out. Them out.

Vivian had no idea why she was so calm about this. Her girlfriend was carrying a man who had some plastic shit melting on him, through a building on fire, when they had no idea how the fire started. And yet, she felt like it was all in control and she could handle everything.

Which was why there was a third explosion and the video dropped. No. No Rover dropped. At least five feet. The little robot fell, tumbled before the gyros caught up and it stabilized. The color on the screen changed, the grey smoke was whited out with... Dust? Vivian swore and read the screens. Sound was coming back, video was back to original levels.

"Peck, what the hell happened?!"

"Rover dropped, sir," she replied, hands running over the controls. Vivian focused the camera back and was stunned. "Fuck, it was the stairs! The support post. There was a .. A shaped charge. Blew out the post and dropped the stairs."

"Right, could be timed, could be triggered. Treat it like a hot scene, Blue Squad, take point. Peck, keep eyes on the firemen, but look for a camera or anything the UnSub could have used."

"Yes, sir!"

Now the panic started to claw its way up her spine. Now Vivian felt, tasted, vomit in her throat. Where the hell was Jamie? She flipped the running lights until she saw a flash. Yes! That fireproof gear had reflective fabric! Vivian toggled the flashing lights and then set up the beacon. "Eyes on! They're not moving. Rover's one foot left— south of them."

The rest happened in a rush. First the rest of Station Four went in for their guys. Then the Blue Squad of ETF called the scene clear. Then Jamie and Jesús were loaded into the ambulances. Then, sirens on, the busses raced out, leaving Vivian with Rich and a robot.

She watched the ambulance drive off with a sensation of absolute helplessness.

"Hey," said Rich quietly. "You… You know she's gonna be fine. Right?"

The reply fell off her lips before her brain could process. "I don't." Because Jamie had been out cold. Breathing, yes, but unconscious. That was never, in the history of ever, a good sign.

As Rich prattled on about how the EMTs were awesome, and didn't Vivian known one of them, she studied the building. Maybe the answers to everything would be found in the rubble. Like how a domestic turned into a meth lab turned into an explosion of this level. Because her brain didn't stop working. Ever. That was what happened when a person was raised by smart people.

Vivian always looked at the whole picture. She didn't always understand it, and she still often made mistakes in her interpretations of it, but there, as the sirens went off around her and the ambulances drove off and the water sprayed on the building and a strange pop pop pop was heard … pop. Pop?

"Fuck," said Vivian, under her breath, as her brain sorted out what she was looking at. What she was hearing.

Minor explosions, other things exploding. Something she'd heard with Holly in the lab when her mother used a little nepotism to get experiment time together.

Multiple tiny pops. Small factor combustion. Sparks. The same thing she'd heard in the fucking building before the fire burst out the other window, killing the possible ladder route. The same thing she'd heard in the lab when her mother showed off what someone could do with paintballs, deodorant, and sparkler dust.

"What?" Rich sounded worried.

She ignored him and looked for her sergeant. "Sir," she said clearly, and abandoned her post for the moment.

"Peck, you're supposed to be packing up Rover. I know that you're friends with the hose monkeys—"

"She's my girlfriend, sir, but that's not it. You need to call in the Lieutenant."

Sgt. Smith's face fell. "She's what?"

"See, I heard, on the Rover radio, these pops—"

"Peck! If that's your girl, you gotta get off the case. That's just—"

"Sir! The secondary explosions!"

He stopped and stared. "What?"

"I heard it. On Rover. It went pop-pop-pop-pop. These soft pops. Just like Hol— Dr. Stewart came up with in her lab."

Smith's face grew grave and serious. "Peck, are you saying what I think you are?"

"We gotta get the evidence, sir. I... I … Believe the residual explosions were caused by Safary."


It was a lot to take in, even for Gail who was pretty used to drama and the like. "Jesus, you look like hell," she informed the firefighter.

The man, actually named Jesús Silver, was swaddled in bandages and casts. What little of his skin that was visible, glistened from the lotion. But he was smiling ear to ear. "I'm alive, ma'am. And the doc says I'm gonna be just fine."

Gail couldn't help but smile. "Got ten minutes for annoying cop questions?"

"Sure... Uh."

"Inspector Gail Peck." She pulled up a chair.

The young man's eyes lit up. "Oh hey, yeah, I remember you. You were here yesterday!"

"I was," said Gail. "Can I sit?"

"Sure. Yeah. I'm off the stupid oxygen mask now." Jesús grinned ear to ear. "Tell ya, that makes me feel worlds better. But I get hella tired right now."

"I promise to make it quick. Do you remember what happened?"

Jesús frowned. "Mostly. I mean, I remember the call and thinking it was a hella weird place for a fire. Usually that building's all shootings." Gail nodded, carefully memorizing what he said. She could type it up later after all. "Anyway, me and McGann were on rapid entry, so as soon as we'd assessed the situation, we went in to look for people who didn't get the memo that fire means get out."

Gail smiled at his description. "You were working on the top floor?"

"Yeah. We kicked in and woke up this meth head. He was real out of it… Did he…?"

Checking her notes, Gail nodded. "Top floor, Mr. Charles Everett. He's alive, though detox is a bitch so he may not appreciate it."

Jesús snorted and winced. "Fuck, that hurts…"

"Sorry. So you took out Mr. Everett?"

"McGann was with me. Two men in, two men together. Always. We passed him off to Anderson and Graham on the first floor and went back up. The smoke hadn't gotten bad, y'know, so we weren't too worried. Normal shit."

That had been how Rich and Vivian both described the day. Normal. Gail sighed. Normal was the watchword. "And you cleared the top floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, top was cleared, and Cappy—" Jesús paused and eyed Gail for a moment, eyes widening.

"Captain Peck…?"

"Uh. Inspector Peck?"

She relieved his curiosity. "Cousins."

Jesús exhaled. "Oh. Okay. Wow. That's creepy. You're related to McGann's copper."

How amusing to hear of Vivian as someone's copper. Gail smiled. "Family is family. What'd Captain Peck say?"

"Uh. She told us to check two. The guys were having trouble getting some old guy out, and she wanted us to take over the last couple rooms." Jesús closed his eyes for a moment. "We kicked in the last door and man… It was … It did not match."

"Match?" Gail perked up.

"Yeah, y'know how shitholes all kinda look the same? Furniture with fleas and shit?" When she nodded, he went on. "This place was mother fucking clean. And the locks? Shit, it took both of us at it. McGann got to use her axe…" He trailed off. Jesús clearly knew Jamie was dating a Peck. It seemed not to be a secret at least. But he was trying to process how closely they were related. "Uh. McGann was telling me it probably wasn't safe, so we recorded with our headsets, did a fast check, and as we were headed out I opened a closet and there was this… Boom."

"Large or small?"

"Small. Smaller than … well it was this box, right? It fell out and the heat or something triggered it and BOOM right on me. Knocked me on my ass. Got my tank caught up so I had to ditch it, but like all the sudden there was all this popping. Little fires all over. And McGann, man, she had me up and out, but this dust was all over me and then…" He stopped. "The pops. A box of 'em fell on me … Next thing I remember was a nurse flashing a light in my eyes asking if I knew who the fucking Mayor was and it was half a day later."

Gail smiled a little. The dust, as it happened, was incendiary filler for non-lethal pellets. Paint balls. She sighed. "I regret to inform you that the Mayor is still that dick head."

"I didn't vote for him," grumbled Jesús. "How's… McGann? She okay?"

Ah. Gail rubbed her chin. "The doctors didn't… Right." Gail sighed. "She's alive, she's just not awake. You guys took a tumble down the stairs."

Jesús's eyes welled up. "Fuck."

"They say she'll be fine. Dislocated shoulder, nasty bruise on her back. They're waiting on her waking up is all."

"Ain't right. She saved my ass."

That was true. Jamie had actually hauled her on-fire partner out of the mess and carried him. She'd been out cold next to the stairs, under them for the most part, right where a little robot named Rover, driven by a crazy kid named Peck, led the rest of the firemen. If the stupid stairs hadn't collapsed and dropped her half a story, she'd probably have been fine.

"I'm going to check on her next, but my wife's a doctor and said the charts read fine." Admittedly, Gail had panicked. She would likely always remember seeing Chris, unconscious in a hospital bed. That horrible, sick, feeling that he might die and, worse, the knowledge that they had to let him die, had haunted her for years.

They'd gotten the call on a rare day off mid-week. Gail had been sitting on the back deck with her coffee, feet in Holly's lap while her wife read the morning news. They'd been joking about the latest sports debacle, the political dramas, and the new super hero movies. As Holly had read something about a wild mountain lion who gave birth in someone's truck, and Gail had wriggled her toes up and under Holly's t-shirt, her phone had rung to tell her ETF was pretty sure they'd found another Safary base.

That part had been normal. When Gail asked about the case and heard that firefighters McGann and Silver were caught in an explosion, she froze.

This is why people were taken off of cases with their relatives involved. Gail couldn't believe that more shit happened to her family. Hadn't the world crapped on her kid enough? Hadn't they dealt with enough? Wasn't there a limit?

But. Gail was beaten, kidnapped, drugged, left to hang by her own name, abandoned by her friends, discarded by her boyfriend, and pretty much never chosen first. And then, even after she found Holly, there were still moments where she felt the universe hated her. Luongo River Fever. Undercover for the prince. Being shot at, blown up, and a million other things.

Life just didn't stop.

"When she wakes up," said Jesús, jolting Gail back into 'now.' "Can you tell her thanks?"

"You'll tell her yourself, don't worry about that," Gail said firmly.

She finished getting the information from Jesús, told him to rest, and then stepped outside his room to steel herself up for what was next. The doctor was on rounds when she'd arrived, so Gail decided to check at the nurses' station before stalking his office.

"Oh, Inspector Peck. The doctor was looking for you. Ms. McGann woke up during rounds."

A mountain lifted off Gail's shoulders. "Just now?"

"About an hour and a half ago. We thought ... Officer Peck is in there." The nurse looked thoughtful. "Though she may have fallen asleep again. I don't think she really slept much the last night."

Gail blinked a few times and ordered the words properly in her head. "Officer Peck has been in her room the whole time?"

"Every night. We... " The nurse's expression soured. "She's not working for you?"

"In a manner of speaking," Gail replied. "But hold your horses. It's alright. Her sergeant probably asked her. Thank you." The nurse did not seem pleased, but she nodded and accepted Gail's tone.

But Jamie was awake. Gail checked with the doctor first, making sure it was okay to go talk to her, before heading to Jamie's room. It wasn't a private room, but the other two beds were empty at the moment. Jamie was awake with her tablet propped up on a pillow so she could read, and Officer Vivian Peck was in a chair right beside ...

Vivian was actually sound asleep, her head in a weird position tilted towards the bed and drool coming from her mouth. Snoring.

Oh yes, Gail was taking a few photos of the historic event.

"Hi," said Jamie, sleepily.

"Hey. You look better."

Jamie smiled, her expression a little fuzzy. Probably from the pain killers. "Yeah." She absently reached over to touch Vivian's head. "She fell asleep. That's weird, right?" Squinting at Gail, Jamie added, "I know she can't sleep at other people's."

Gail studied the sleeping girl. "It is peculiar, I'll grant you. How long has she been out?"

"Um. Doc left and she started snoring." Jamie blinked rather owlishly. "This is some good shit. Whatever I'm on."

"Lightweight," teased Gail. But she picked up the chart and recognized the drugs as the same they'd given her the last time she was in. "Oh, you are on the good shit. Jealous! I can't take opiates or narcotics."

"Allergic?"

"Idiosyncratic reactions." Now was not the time to explain about her nightmares or flashbacks. They were more common on narcotics and opiates though. Gail hung the chart back up. "How's the shoulder?"

"Can't feel much of it," admitted Jamie. She poked her own shoulder. "They shot it with anti-flamethrowers."

"I think you mean anti-inflammatories."

"Probably." Jamie smiled and patted Vivian's head. "I'm supposed to move in next month. Did she tell you?"

Gail bit back a smile. "She did not. But good for you."

"I like her. She's sweet. Imperfect. But she tries." And, as Gail watched, Jamie started singing a Sara Barellies song. Except it was one of her horribly depressing ones.

After recording some of it, Gail spoke up. "Ooooookay, kiddo, no more singing sad songs."

"Crosby, Stills and Nash?"

"A woman who likes the classics. How about you get some sleep?"

Jamie smiled. "Okay. But don't you want to know about the fire stuff?"

"Yeah, but I need you sober for that."

Jamie blew air out, trying to make a thbbbt sound and making it a weird pop instead. "I remember what I saw." And Jamie proceeded to detail out what she'd seen. Up until Jesús opened the closet, it matched. "Jesús went down like that cake I made. I cannot bake, Gail. Will Vivian mind?" For a moment, Jamie looked terribly serious. Gail shook her head and Jamie went on. "This weird stuff fell out of the closet. And it rolled like marbles except they popped and splattered Jesús. I already had him without his gear, gave him my air and the whole hallway, just woooooah. But the robot! Oh man, that stupid thing flashed at me and showed me the way out." She sighed wistfully. "Except the stairs. That hurt."

"Tell me about it," said Gail, remembering her broken ribs. "Okay. You're still high as a kite, hose monkey. We'll try this again when you're sober."

Pouting, Jamie stopped playing with Vivian's hair and picked up her tablet. "Can you put this on the wifi for me?"

"Absolutely not," said Gail, nearly laughing. "And no I'm not getting you your phone. Did the hospital call your parents?"

"Vivian did when the doctor kicked her out."

"Okay. You rest. I'll come back later when you've rested."

Jamie grinned, lopsided. "Okay. Bye, Gail."

Shaking her head, Gail walked out and texted Holly, sending her a photo of sleeping Vivian and drugged Jamie.

Then she called a familiar number.

"Peck," said Shay.

"Yeah, that's weird."

"Hey, Gail. Please don't tell me my best rapid entry is dead."

"Nah, she's high as a fucking kite and totally fine. Dislocated shoulder, a bruise or thirteen all over her, but she's going to be fine and you'll get her back."

Shay exhaled loudly. "Good. I'll let the boys know."

"Any news on the case for me?"

Her cousin growled. "I nearly lost two of my top guys and you just want to arrest someone. You're such a bitch."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Shay, you know damn well what's at stake. Okay? Bombs are serious shit."

"Yeah, well you'll be happy to know arson confirmed your kid's on-site call of the incendiaries. Why aren't you harassing your wife about this shit?"

"Because I called to tell you about your employee being awake before I called my wife to tell her about her kid's girlfriend?"

There was a pause. "I can't tell if I'm supposed to be thankful or not."

"Bye, Shay. I'll call you if I find out anything." And Gail hung up before her cousin could reply.

In the room, Vivian was still sacked out. But even asleep she was looking very intense about things. That was Vivian's default, though, serious and intense. She wasn't saying much and neither was Jamie, but given the rollercoaster the two had just been through, that made sense. Maybe they just needed to be together for a while.

Over the last few months, they'd struggled through Vivian's idiot biological family, a fight about something Viv still wasn't really talking about, and then Lily's death just the month before. Somewhere in the middle of the funeral and wake, they'd reconciled. Whatever the fight really was about, though, it left lingering tendrils of annoyance for both women.

But. Unlike Gail and Holly at the same age, they seemed to actually be talking about it.

Gail took that as a sign she'd raised the kid right.


When the front door opened, instead of the garage, Holly realized the kids had come in a car. So did Gail, as she shouted out the kids were there. Holly still had to ask. "Viv, please tell me you did not take the motorcycle."

"Seriously, Mom?" Vivian sounded annoyed.

"She drove my truck, Holly," said Jamie. "Hi."

Holly swatted Gail's butt in passing and went to gingerly hug the firefighter. "You look exhausted, Jamie."

"I'm okay," said Jamie, returning the hug and not arguing when Holly helped her to a stool in the kitchen. "My back is mostly better."

"Back?" Holly eyed Vivian.

"She has a bruise this big." Vivian held her hands up to about the size of her tablet. "Nasty. But that mattress you picked for me is great. She can sleep on it."

Holly nodded and patted Jamie's head. "You did a number on yourself." The girl looked like she hadn't slept much in the few days she'd been out of the hospital. "You didn't have to come over."

But Jamie shook her head. "Oh my god, I did. My life is Viv's place and the doctor's."

"I hear ya," said Gail, putting an iced tea down for Jamie. "Viv, name your poison."

"I'm driving, so same please." Vivian went to the cabinets and got out plates.

Watching her daughter set the table, Holly smiled. "Speaking of Viv's place, I hear you're moving in?"

Jamie flushed. "Sorry. I know Vivian wanted to tell you..."

"You were high, McGann," said Vivian, sounding amused and very tolerant. "I told you moms forgave me."

"Did your landlords?" Holly asked in her best deadpan and was rewarded with a panicked expression from her kid and the girlfriend. "I'm happy for you two. Is Christian staying?"

Vivian nodded. "So far, yeah. We're gonna see how it works out."

Looking amused, Gail spoke up. "People used to think me and Dov and Chris would have a threesome, y'know. Living together."

Holly made a face. "What a horrible mental image."

"I know, right? It was Dov's fault." Gail checked the fish and carefully turned it. "Life worked out much better this way."

"Well, thank you for the nightmares, Mom, but I'm pretty firmly in the homosexual side of queer."

Gail smirked. "You know someone will say it, though. Since C kissed you." She paused. "You did tell Jamie, right?"

"Yes, Mom!" Vivian laughed. "And that was before we were going out, so stupid past shit is stupid past shit."

Jamie held up her good hand and looked confused. "S'cuse me. Who's Chris?"

Both her wife and daughter winced, leaving Holly to explain. "Chris Diaz was Gail's fellow rookie, and ex-boyfriend. His serious girlfriend in high school was Denise, Christian's mom. And no, he's not the father."

Vivian added another tidbit. "Not to be confused with Chris Epstein, Dov and Chloe's kid, who is a senior in high school and named for Chris. He died shortly after Little Chris was born."

"He'd been in a coma, Diaz was." Gail chimed in.

The firefighter was quiet for a moment. "You people have very convoluted lives. Next you'll tell me Holly ran the DNA to prove he wasn't the father."

Gail cleared her throat. "Prove is the wrong word."

Naturally Jamie laughed and winced. Vivian hovered, clearly unsure which way to go. Finally Vivian announced, "See? This is why I refuse to date anyone at Fifteen."

"Yeah? You're dating my cousin's best rapid entry," Gail said glibly.

Jamie perked up. "The Cap said that?"

"She did. She talked you up."

Beaming, Jamie turned to Vivian. "See? I'm awesome."

"You know what." Vivian was looking like this had been part of a long conversation. "Keep this up and I tell them about the elephant." Jamie shut up and turned pink.

"Oh my god!" Gail laughed until she wheezed. "Pink in a dress?" When Jamie nodded, Gail laughed more. "I told you there was an elephant, Holly!"

Flabbergasted, Holly looked at Vivian. "An elephant? A little pink elephant?"

"It was creepy," whined Jamie.

"Okay, Gail, I owe you an apology." Holly rolled her eyes. Gail would be milking this for years. "In my defense, a stoned as shit cop babbling about a pink elephant sure sounds fucked up."

"Oh it was," said Jamie, darkly.

Besides that, dinner was a fairly subdued affair. They talked about normal things and current events. They joked about sports and the news. It was normal. It was lovely. Not long after desert, Jamie started to look tense and pinched. Holly knew what it was, as did Gail. They both encouraged Vivian to take Jamie home, to let them clean up and get Jamie in bed before the medication kicked in too much.

Only after the house was empty and clean did Holly ask. "It was Safary then?"

Gail looked surprised, freezing with her hands on her own shirt. "Yeah, yeah it was."

"Was it booby trapped?"

"Don't know yet. I know it was old as fuck. And there were termites. Kid said she swore it was a shaped charge, but..." Gail pulled her shirt off and tossed it in the hamper. "Isn't your lab keeping you in the loop?"

Holly swatted Gail's arm. "Wayne's got this under control. He'll send me a final report as soon as he knows, but you know he'll tell you first."

Giving Holly her best grin, Gail leaned over to kiss Holly's cheek. "Everyone loves me best. I'm awesome." While Holly rolled her eyes, Gail added, "Know who tipped us off?"

"The idiot piloting the robot?" Sighing, Holly sat on the end of the bed and kicked her shoes off. "Vivian is scared to death of that girl getting hurt."

"Can't blame her." Hanging her jeans up, Gail went to the shower. "This year sucks. I want a do-over. The last time shit piled up like this..." She stopped and looked over at Holly.

The last time Gail's life had piled things on her like that was a while ago. Possibly when Holly found one of her old cases on trial for possible misuse of evidence, at the same time Vivian was struggling through her first exams as a college student, while Gail had an international crime and had to go to Mexico. That had been a very shitty three weeks. But. "Remember the first time?" Holly smiled.

"Ugh, did the universe have to break me down just so I'd open my eyes and see you?" Gail swore in general and washed her hair.

Holly smiled more. It did. The universe had to throw everything it could at them all the time. They came out of those moments strong and braver and better. Bruised and battered, certainly, but better. "I love you, Gail!"

The shower door opened. "Well. That's convenient." Gail's hair stuck up with soap still in it. "We should take a long weekend. Go to the cabin."

"You should wash the soap out of your hair. And I think Vivian should drag Jamie up there. The girl isn't sleeping."

Gail looked surprised and quickly rinsed out her hair. They swapped places, Holly getting her head under the comforting spray, and Gail asked. "I thought it was just the pain killers."

"No, she has the same face you get when you can't relax. She's probably hearing the fire and the crash over and over when she sleeps. And the pain killers make it harder to wake up so..." Holly scrubbed her skin. "Is this her first big injury?"

"Viv said so." Gail rubbed her hair dry-ish and took the time for some lotion. "The first time is the worst, but she has Viv so that's better."

"But she's hella tense, Gail."

"No. No, you're right."

Holly laughed and turned off the water. "Say that again?"

Gail narrowed her eyes. "You're right. You're right, you're right. Happy?" She held out a towel.

Taking the towel, Holly spoke softly. "You're not alone, Gail."

The blonde smiled and brushed the backs of her fingers over Holly's cheek. "I know." She leaned in and kissed Holly's cheek. "And she is way better off than I was at that age. They both are. And that? That's because we are awesome parents."

Holly smiled and leaned in to kiss Gail more properly. "We are." They kissed again and Holly sighed happily. "I'm glad it wasn't worse."

"Me too." Gail's eyes drifted closed as they kissed again.

One of the best things about kissing Gail was how tender it could be. Oh, Holly loved a good, fierce kiss as much as anyone else. Their first real kiss had been like that. Gail grabbed her face and kissed her the way Holly had secretly wanted for ages. To just demand that they both acknowledge the thing between them, the reality that they were not 'just' friends. That they meant something more. That they were inevitable.

But the second part of that kiss... That moment where Gail drew her back in again and was sweet and tender. That kiss meant so much to Holly because of its lack of need and desperation to prove anything. It was just a girl, standing in front of another girl, showing that she had feelings.

"What's going on in that big brain?" Gail's voice was a soft caress.

"Thinking about kissing you." She let go of the towel, letting their closeness hold it up, and rested her hands on Gail's hips. "I like kissing you."

Gail smiled. Not her big, cocky grin, but that honest happy smile that slipped out on rare occasions. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're kind of special."

The blonde opened her eyes, shimmering blue and a little wet. "Are you tired?" Holly shook her head and Gail kissed her again, this time with a noticeably different intent.

They didn't say anything about what was going to happen next. Gail tugged the towel away from between them, tossing it somewhere on the tile floor. They'd sort it out later. Right now, right now there was a need for something else. A need to touch and be touched. To breathe in the smell of each other, feel the weight of each other.

Holly tugged Gail back towards the bed. Their bed. Their bedroom. Their home. Them. They had been a them for over twenty years. Soon enough, they would be a them for half their lives. Twenty odd years of each other, and it wasn't enough yet. Holly knew she could spend another twenty years just getting to know Gail. Just getting to learn her.

For all the years she had known Gail and her body, for all the times she'd let her hands explore the pale skin and the soft curves, it was never enough. Their bodies changed over time. Breasts that were taut and perky at twenty and thirty were now softer and saggier. Skin had wrinkles and scars and stretch marks. Hair was grey. Well... Holly's hair was grey.

Still. None of that mattered, not in a bad way. The change and the changes and the changing was all part of life that should be celebrated. And how Holly celebrated them. She reveled in them, delighting in the sensations of Gail's body against her own. She loved her wife.

And it was clear Gail felt the same way. The blonde got lost at times, lost in a yearning that evidenced itself in a look and a touch. Lost in a wanting that had not faded to time. Lost in a feeling that could only be called love. Gail's hands would still and she would just look. She would look and smile and laugh softly, as if she could still hardly believe that this was her life and this was her wife.

Then Gail moved again, moved her hands and moved against Holly's hands. She lost herself in the other way, the way where they were together and still together and forever and ever and the moments could last a lifetime. And they knew. Oh, how they knew what they meant to each other. What they would always mean.

And then, when the moments had passed and they lay in each other's arms, listening to hearts and lungs, Holly smiled. She rubbed her cheek along Gail's sternum, smearing more of herself against her wife. Spreading her scent over a woman who still smelled differently than she did, but now smelled much like her.

"I do love you," said Gail into the quiet calm of the night, her hand caressing Holly's hair.

"I love you," replied Holly.

And she did.


The evening with Jamie's father was not the favorite on her list. But Jason had asked if he could come over, alone, to help out, and Vivian actually had to work that afternoon so why not. She hadn't expected him to stay, though, and the fact that he was sticking around for dinner was still weird.

And as it happened, she was sorting out (with her therapist's help) the fact that she didn't actually have as much of a problem with the man as she thought she did. The slightly subtle family fighting, yes, had stuck in her craw in a bad way, but the first thing that Jason did was apologize. He made no excuses, he simply said he was sorry that they'd made her uncomfortable, and he would understand if she didn't want to see them.

Damn adults being reasonable.

So after a lunch with Angela and coffee with Jason, Vivian ended up with Jason and Jamie and a movie early one night. It was not a film she cared about, so when the movie started she ordered them Chinese food to satisfy Jamie's cravings. It was impossible for her to miss the slight glare from Jason as she left to pick the food up.

When she reached her door on the trip back, she could hear the conversation.

Jamie was fairly quiet. "Dad... Vivian's being nice."

"This is her being nice? She just left us to get food! In the middle of the movie!"

"No. Dad, she doesn't like John Hughes movie."

There was a long pause. Long enough for Vivian to consider opening the door. "Who doesn't like John Hughes movies? James, I take back everything I said about how good she was for you."

Jamie sighed loud enough to be heard through the door. "She thinks they're depressing."

Okay, time to cut that off. Before Jamie's father could reply, Vivian opened the door and walked back in with the takeout order. "Hit pause, adrenaline junkie. I got your Dim Sum."

Jason scowled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Vivian paused. "Uh, do we have a month?" She put the food on the counter and hoped to pull off Gail levels of deflection.

"What's wrong with John Hughes? He's one of the seminal artists of his generation!"

Muttering 'here we go,' Jamie started to get up to help with the food. "Hey, McGann, keep the ass on the couch," scowled Vivian. "Sorry... Jamie, not you, sir."

"Topic," snapped Jason.

Arching her eyebrows, Vivian's tone shifted without her even meaning to. "Mr. McGann. You're my girlfriend's dad, but don't be a dick. I really have no problem throwing you out of my home." She had reflexively pitched her voice as the tone of a cop. Well. In this case, it was also the tone of someone who knew Jason's history.

Jason fumed for a moment. "Sorry," he grumbled. "I ... Sorry." Taking a deep breath, he asked more reasonably, "Why are they depressing?"

She caught Jamie's worried expression and half nodded. Please don't make a thing. Right. So, as if nothing had happened, Vivian replied, "They reflect the inherent futility of life, masquerading as an ache for societal validation. Instead they're actually a reminder that we will all eventually become the things we detest because there's no escape for the world we've made. All his characters will end up unhappy and exactly who they didn't want to be."

Jason was stunned and Jamie smiled. "Oh," he muttered. "What movies do you like?"

"I don't watch a lot of them. Documentaries mostly."

Jamie cleared her throat. "Vampires."

Vivian shrugged. "That's different."

To her father, Jamie explained, "She thinks the Twilight movies are funny."

"It's a comedy," said Vivian. "An unintentional modern take on Emma. Did you take your pain killers?"

"No. I'm supposed to take them with food."

Nodding, Vivian brought her a plate first, and a glass of water. "No you can't have a coke," she noted and kissed Jamie's forehead.

Jamie's father looked sad. "Unhappy? Even Some Kind of Wonderful?"

"Eric Stolz?" Vivian looked at Jamie for confirmation. "Right. He'll be a starving artist, she'll take a job to support him, and they'll be miserable. Maybe he'll have to sell the earrings and she'll resent it. Hard to say. But it's the most tolerable of the lot."

It shut Jason up and he took his plate of food with a marveling expression. "Is she like this all the time?"

Jamie smiled. "Secretly brilliant? Yeah. She doesn't like to talk about her life to people, and any time she so much as mentions she doesn't like Hughes movies, they figure she has some horrible trauma."

Snorting, Vivian sat next to Jamie. "Not their business."

Jamie gestured. "See? Back to taciturn. It's normal for her."

Vivian felt a little worried. "Is that bad?"

"No," promised Jamie. "Why are we watching this, though?"

Vivian eyed Jamie. "You like it, and you said it was your Dad's favorite."

Jamie smiled and leaned against Vivian long enough to kiss her cheek. "See, Dad?"

Her father sighed. "Well. As long as she keeps you out of trouble." He was quiet for the rest of the movie though.

Near the end, Jamie drifted off to sleep. Silently, Jason and Vivian cleaned up the dishes. "You don't have to help, sir— Jason."

"I wanted to say thank you," he replied, quietly. "She's not sleeping well."

Vivian glanced at Jamie, curled up on the couch with a scowl. "She's in pain. But... Yeah, she's not."

"And she won't stay with us... Which I can't blame her." He sighed. "Her mother won't take her meds."

This was not the conversation Vivian wanted to have. It felt too close to home. "I don't think—"

"It's not that. I mean, Angie's not crazy like my mom. But she has anger issues. Rage. It's rare, but ... Well that's why she broke my leg back when." Jason paused. "You do know about that, right?"

Vivian nodded. "I do." She sighed. "I ... I overreact about that stuff."

"I noticed." Jason looked over at the couch. "So do I sometimes... It's not my fucking business. I'm not asking. But I'm pretty sure you'll never be like that to Jamie."

"God, no." Vivian frowned. A different thought came to mind and she hated it. "Are you okay?"

"Hah, that was cop for 'does your wife beat you, Mr. McGann' isn't it?" When Vivian didn't answer, he sighed. "We're okay. She doesn't hit me. Or Jamie. She hasn't hit anyone since that night. Neither have I. But she doesn't like to take her meds, so it's hard."

Vivian looked down at the sink. "I can't promise I won't..." She stopped. How could she explain? She couldn't. There was no way to explain everything in her head, not here and now. "It's not you. Not all you."

"I get that. A lot of me isn't my wife, but sometimes Angela brings out the worst." Jason shrugged. "I don't know my real father, kid— Vivian. That asshole grandfather I wouldn't let see Jamie? Step-dad. Used to beat the shit out of me and my mom. I became a boxer to be strong, so shitfaces like him could never hurt me." The man sighed loudly. "Ended up hurting the one person who means the world to me. I know I'm lucky. I'll never take that for granted again, and every day she's with me... grace of god. Grace of god."

What were you supposed to say to that? Vivian sighed. "I'm not there... not where I can talk about that stuff to everyone. Anyone."

"You tell Jamie?" When she nodded, he smiled. "That's what matters. Not me."

Vivian essayed a smile at him. "Can I change the topic?"

"God! Yes!" Jason laughed.

"I want to kidnap your daughter and take her out of the city. For a week or so."

"Yeah? Got a place in mind?"

"I'm about to sound entitled," she muttered. "My moms have a cabin up in the woods."

Jason pursed his lips. "I don't think Jamie's ever been outside of cities really. She may hate it."

"I know. But it's quiet and the opposite of stressful."

The tall man looked over at his sleeping daughter. Wistful. He was at least. Jamie was frowning and looked in pain and twitchy. "Thank you."

Vivian blinked and shrugged. "I like her. I'm her girlfriend. I'm supposed to do this."

"Yeah. But you know it's a choice, Vivian. We don't have to, but we chose to take care of people. And sometimes they don't get why, but we do."

She looked up at the man and blinked. Kinship. With a strange man. That was a feeling she'd never had before. "I asked her to move in," Vivian said softly. She had no idea if Jamie had mentioned it to her own parents, and right then she didn't care.

"Well," said Jason quietly. "If she didn't say yes, my kid's an idiot." Parental approval. How odd. He smiled at her, looking like he wanted to squeeze her shoulder. Instead, though, Jason nodded and then went to nudge his daughter awake so he could say goodnight.

The suggestion later that night of the Peck cottage surprised her girlfriend. They'd settled into bed, Jamie carefully propped up on pillows, and Vivian said she had the time off to take Jamie up to the cottage. The firefighter stared. "You really own a cottage?"

"My moms own a cottage. It's been in the family for like two hundred years or something. I promise it has running water."

Jamie frowned. "How is this supposed to be restful?"

"It's really quiet. No city noises to wake you up. Nice, soft beds. No phones. No TV. No internet."

"This is not helping your case. I'm already bored."

Vivian smiled and took Jamie's hand. "If you don't like it, I'll take you to a B&B or anything you want. But you gotta get out of the city, Jamie. You're not getting any rest."

Her girlfriend sighed. "You're the champ of shitty sleeping. Is it really good?"

"It's the best," Vivian said firmly. There was something about the cottage that just let a body rest. Everything slowed down. Everything was relaxed. "We'll take your truck."

Getting the time off had been easy enough when she told Andy and Sue why. When a person had a high stress job and didn't generally take time off, bosses tended to react appropriately when some was requested, long weekend and short staff or not. Sue had already given an earful to Sgt. Smith about how everyone knew Jamie was Vivian's girlfriend, and making her drive Rover was ignorant.

Then Vivian had to make sure her parents didn't mind her taking the cabin. Her mothers' only warning was that since it was a long weekend, they'd be up at the cabin on Friday. That was fine. Four days to get Jamie to sleep and relax would be about right, if Vivian's experiences with her parents were any indication.

As it happened, Jamie dozed off on the drive up. The soft near-snore from the passenger seat was soothing and comforting. Vivian was tempted to let her sleep all the way up, but she really didn't want to cook that night. Thankfully Jamie woke up as they got to town, and Vivian brought her in the store to pick up some snacks and a to-go dinner from the diner.

The cabin was usually stocked, and Gail had said she'd have the service clean up before they got there. The service was the daughter of the town sheriff, who was around Sophie's age now... Still. Stocked meant cooking, and cooking was work. She wanted to be lazy for one night.

The diner owner recognized her, teasing Vivian about being up there on her own. When Vivian explained her girlfriend was marveling at the actual five and dime store, the matron changed her expression and loaded them up with ribs, brisket, potatoes, and greens. High energy food, she called it, and laughed at Vivian's blush. It was great food though, and Vivian wasn't going to knock it.

Wide awake at last, Jamie's eyes were wide as they drove further into the hills, until the woods parted and they could see a house and a lake.

"Holy fuck." She was all but pressed against the window.

"Jamie, have you ever been out of the city?" Vivian laughed as she pulled up at the garage.

"Not the point." As soon as they parked, Jamie was out of the vehicle and staring at the front deck. "Vivian, this is a house! You said cottage!"

That had been Vivian's reaction at six. "It's got three bedrooms, two down and one up. Indoor plumbing, lights powered by solar. It's off the grid, and no your phone won't work. Gotta go back to town for a signal. But we have a land line." Vivian got out and grabbed the groceries. "Gun safe is upstairs in my Moms' room. My room is down and on the left when we go in."

Trusting Jamie would follow her, she went up the steps, unlocked the door, and headed inside. There was a note on the counter from the cleaning company, telling her there was a fresh box of detergent in the storage room. Good. Not that Vivian expected to need the laundry, but it was good to know.

"Holy fuck, the lake... Vivian, the lake is right there!"

Vivian looked over and cursed. "Hey, what part of take it easy and don't strain your arm did you not understand?" Her girlfriend had the luggage in hand.

"I didn't hurt both arms."

"You hurt enough." Vivian took the suitcase. "Overworking your good arm is a common injury."

Jamie rolled her eyes. "I'm supposed to exercise my arm."

"Exercise it under controlled situations."

"It's one bag!"

"Fine, get the backpacks," suggested Vivian, as she went back for the guns. In a case were the rifle and a pair of handguns. The latter went into the small gun safe in her room, the former was locked away in the master. The odds were against needing any of it, but Vivian had experiences with the moose population.

Jamie carried the backpacks in and stopped, staring out at the back deck and the lake. "Holy crap. This ... This is amazing."

"Go on out. I'll bring drinks."

Mutely, Jamie opened the sliding door and stepped out to the deck. When Vivian joined her, she was sitting on an Adirondack chair, positively in awe. Vivian grinned and handed over a bottle of the local soda, taking the neighboring chair. They sat in the quiet evening, watching the sky start to change color.

"So. What, exactly, do we do up here?"

"Eat. Sleep. Play around in the water." Vivian glanced over. "There's a farmer's market back in town pretty much every day in summer. And some really wild caves. We have a rowboat and a canoe. We can go fish. Rock climbing is out."

"Yeah a bit. Hunt?"

"I can probably get us a permit... We don't, though. Gail thinks it's cruel."

"Gail? Sounds like a Holly thing."

Vivian smiled. "That too."

"What do your parents do?"

"Oh." Vivian cleared her throat. "Sex. Mostly."

Jamie blinked and flushed. "Oh." She played with her bottle for a moment. "Eat. Rest. Sex... Sounds ... Kind of nice."

Vivian reached over and put her hand on Jamie's. It did sound nice.


The evidence was a mess. Gail stared at the tables and tables of it and cringed. "Wayne, I don't want to be a bitch..."

Someone in the room snorted.

"I know," said Wayne. He looked a little overwhelmed. "I'm prioritizing items from that room first, but the fire and the water and that damn self destruct... Safary's good, Gail."

She nodded. "I know. I'm not asking for a miracle, Wayne, just something to trace and hunt down." Gail ran her hands through her hair. Because right now she had nothing. Nothing useful.

Wayne nodded back and went over what they did have. In the week since the fire, they'd collected everything that had survived. The water damage had been impressive, though expected, and the collapse... Actually the stairs turned out to be part of Safary's plan. A small set of charges had been found on the structural elements of the stairs, taking them down easily.

Of if it all, evidence from the firefighters's clothing had been the most useful. It had confirmed Holly's theory on how the secondary explosions were started. The trace on Jesús' pants came back as off brand Old Spice deodorant. The kind bought in bulk from CostCo and other such places.

It was news to Gail that bulk pit stick could be different from the kind in stores. The off brand stuff was usually nearly identical to the real thing, except in price. Apparently Old Spice had some secret ingredient or another.

In addition, they had some useful trace from the fake explosives used to make the sparks. The lab was working on tests to see if they could isolate and identify the special effects material. They really needed some clear samples of unused whatever it was, but they were still going through the rubble.

The arson investigation had concluded, surprisingly swiftly, and informed Gail that the cause had been a tripwire. That sent Gail to talk to Abercrombie and find out why he and his partner (Goff, still doing poorly as a rookie, and still creeping everyone out) were there in the first place. She'd read the reports, but Gail preferred to talk to the rookies.

From Rich, she learned they'd been there for a domestic. A junkie and his dealer got into a fight on the second floor. They'd only caught the dealer, as the junkie punched Goff and ran off. As they'd gotten the dealer cuffed and in the car, Rich had noticed some smoke. Then they'd heard the fire alarms, so he radioed it in.

That was when the first explosion went off, and the call was escalated. ETF had pulled up at the same time as Station Four, but ceded entry to the hose monkeys since the fire was raging at that point, setting up outside. Of course, Shay wasn't a moron and had two ETF fire experts in with her crew. No one had cleared the building, but they were pretty sure the fire was causing the explosions and not the other way around.

And all of that was information Gail already knew.

"What I need is something new," she complained to Holly as she threw herself onto the couch in her wife's office.

Without looking up, Holly asked. "Want me to dress up in your uniform?"

"Not what I had in mind, you weirdo." But Gail grinned at the mental image. "You would look sexy as hell in a uniform."

Holly smiled and looked up from her laptop. "You rock a lab coat."

"Hey, you made me wear it." Gail sat up and mimicked Holly's voice. "If you're going to work in the lab, you have to wear a coat." Then she added, "I know damn well you didn't make Vivian!"

With that god damn it sexy smirk, Holly reached up and adjusted her glasses. That ass. She knew it turned Gail on. "She was working in her uniform. You were in a suit. A nice suit. A suit I love seeing you in." And she gave Gail a wistful sigh.

"Flirt," said Gail, under her breath.

"Shameless, too." Holly picked up a pen and jotted something down. "I can't solve a case for you every time, Gail, so stop pleading."

Gail flipped her wife off and lay back on the couch. "My kid is the bomb expert."

"Not enough evidence left for reconstruction."

Gail groaned. "I hate you." She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

She needed more data. The right data. Something that could tell her which way to go. They couldn't waste time checking videos and receipts from stores to find out who bought the deodorant, because she could have paid cash or had someone else pick it up. If Safary was clever enough to get away with it for this long she had to have layers and levels.

Minions.

Gail had minions. Well, she had Andy, and Girl Guide had minions. Gail took her hands off her face and picked up her phone. She tapped in a message, asking Andy to send out the kids and interview every single neighbor. Door to door. Then she told Zettle she needed the Ds to go over the interviews of the residents. Deep dive into backgrounds. Connect them to any of the other incidents, any of the locations of he bombs, any of the suppliers.

Then... Then she needed more background. The types of bombs. There were databases. She sent herself a note to run the bomb profiles against the FBI's database, as well as the Mounties. Bombs had signatures. People had styles. If she could figure out Safary's then she could figure out the answer.

One of the answers. Motive was still half elusive. They knew why. Safary was a god damned criminal activist. Blow up people who mistreat others. Of the places that had been bombed, all had been investigated and found to be in some criminal act or another. Even the damned Zoo, which had been embezzling.

How the hell did someone just find that sort of thing?

She dropped her phone back onto her stomach. "Holly, I need a break."

"What kind?" Her wife didn't sound like she had stopped working.

"The kind where I let my back brain try to find Safary, while my front brain goes all lizard and ravishes you."

The typing stopped. "Specific. I, however, have to finish this for John."

"You love John more than you love me," said Gail, putting on her best pout.

Holly, alas, knew her too well. "Yes, you're right," said the doctor in her deadpan. "I love John and I'm leaving you for him. But don't worry, you and Janet get along."

"You're her bridesmaid." Gail smiled. "How's the dance lessons?"

"Eh. Her friends cannot bust a move. They make Viv look like Fred Astaire."

"Not Ginger Rodgers?"

Holly snorted a laugh. "Honey, our kid ain't got rhythm." She resumed typing with determination. "Tell you what. Go shoot. We can do Yoga tonight if you don't mind the kiddie classes. And... If you're still stumped this weekend, we abscond."

"Oh, we were gonna do that anyway," said Gail firmly.

"See? You can ravish me in the cottage."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Child plus one will be there. And unlike Viv, Jamie will be in no shape to go for a hike all day whilst we tryst."

To that, Holly looked up. "We should see a play."

"Huh?" Gail stared. What the what?

"A play. Not a musical, not ballet, not opera, not a concert. A play."

That reminded Gail she 'owed' Holly a rock concert again one of these days. Her wife did so love the modern shit. "A play. Okay. Subjects?"

"Genres. Comedy. A one woman play would work."

Gail frowned. "Elvira Kurt has that one woman show about lesbians?"

"Make it so!" Holly waved her hand and went back to typing.

Sensing a true dismissal, Gail got up, kissed Holly's forehead (and got a distracted 'love you' in return), and let herself out. Ruth the secretary looked up. "Is she still deep into that report, Gail?"

"She didn't even bite at my bad jokes." Unlike most secretaries and assistants, Ruth had no problem calling Gail by her name. She was non-scientific, but incredibly intelligent and smart as a whip. Gail adored her and sometimes tried to get her for the OC crowd.

"She's really excited," offered Ruth.

Gal grinned ear to ear. "Oh I don't mind. I knew she was an obsessive workaholic when I married her. It's one of the things I love about her."

Ruth looked skeptical. "A lot of people in my old life used to say that."

"Lot of techaholics?"

Smirking, Ruth nodded. "They had this weird idea that not working, not being available 24/7, meant they were slacking off."

"Bleah. I'm only successful because I'm lazy."

"You're efficient," said Ruth, pointing at Gail with her stylus. "And so am I. I'll make sure you get called right away, but I suspect it'll be next week at the earliest before the lab has anything concrete."

Gail sighed dramatically. "You know, I was going to start my usual attempt to win you over, but I swear, you're more useful to everyone here."

Ruth smirked. "You're not my type, Inspector. I like science more than crime. I don't see as many nutters here."

"Less living evil, I'll grant you," agreed Gail. "Alright. Please make sure she doesn't overwork, though, would you? If she starts getting all Holly, remind her we have Yoga at six?"

"She's lucky to have a lady like you," said Ruth, making a note of what Gail just said.

"Ain't she though? Thanks, Ruth. I owe you one."

As Gail walked back to the station, secretly enjoying the terrible city heat, she smiled.

She was no closer to solving her case, she was no closer to saving anyone, but she felt like her feet were on the right path for a change. That sooner or later, things would change for the better. Maybe there would be a break in the case or maybe they would luck into something. But there was a change brewing.


The summer storm was startling. Holly eyed it from the back deck, sipping her coffee. "Is it raining up at the cottage?"

Gail looked up from her laptop. "No. Vivian said it was hot and dry." The blonde squinted out at rain. Lighting, thunder, and bits of hail shattered down for a moment, and then it went back to rain. All within seconds. "Microbursts. Remember when these were rare?"

"Climate change is, to a degree, irreversible." Holly sighed. "Are you going in today?"

"Just to oversee a couple interviews this afternoon. And we can get out of dodge tomorrow morning if that's good for you." The detective bent her head to her laptop again, scowling.

Holly watched Gail work for a little while. Seated by the house, Gail was far from the rain and the sun. It was her usual spot, as she still burned quickly at a hint of sun. But there, tucked into the bit of table by the wall with her laptop and coffee, hair still rumpled from sleep, wearing her lazy house robe that was silky and the perfect color for her pale skin, Gail was still far more sexy than any woman had a right to be.

Even now, in their mature age, Gail was stunning and could break hearts. She aged gracefully and gloriously. Her hair, all of it, was resilient to the ravages of time. No grey for Gail, though not a blonde there either, she had wrinkles that one might call laugh lines. A few crows feet at the corner of her eyes. Nothing more.

The bombshell look of youth had changed, somewhat, into heart-stopped glamour. Gail had been known to stop men and women cold in the street, especially on nights they went to the show. Oh how Holly loved those nights. When Gail was dressed in heels and a sheath dress that should have been illegal, and Holly wore slacks and a blouse that made her skin glow, and she had Gail on her arm and the world could be jealous.

The world could burn and the people could wail. But the only person on the planet Gail had eyes for was her. And that feeling, oh how it made Holly think she was the queen of the universe. She was the luckiest woman ever, because she woke up every day to Gail.

Smiling, she watched. She watched her wife scowl at her work and type with fierce passion because there was nothing Gail did without passion. And again, in a wet and stormy summer morning, Holly fell in love all over again. Just watching Gail, she remembered everything about the woman that was imperfect and wonderful.

"It's creepy when you stare at people," cautioned Gail, closing her laptop.

"Sorry, but I married a beautiful woman."

Gail snorted and stretched her arms up over her head. "I got us tickets to see a show when we get back."

"Oh? The comedy show?"

"It's not very comedy." Gail's phone flashed and she picked it up, reading the message. "I have to take this." And Gail shifted into her more serious mode, stepping inside. "Peck."

Holly picked up the laptop and carried it inside, following Gail and making more coffee. But her wife trotted up the stairs right away. Ah. That sort of case. Holly poured herself coffee and picked up her own phone to check messages and mail. There was nothing dreadfully important. The lab was making headway on the building fire, the detectives were hunting down the head bashers, and a million other smaller cases were in various stages of development.

It was a perfectly normal day, in other words. A day to take her time and enjoy her coffee as she sat in her kitchen and watched the little storm peter out.

Holly had, planning for her long weekend, taken the time to get as much ahead as possible. Her work in the office was done, unlike Gail's, leaving only the packing and paperwork to do. But Holly's work was generally easier to wrap up. Not always. It was just that science was a little more predictable. A person could follow process and procedure and test and find answers.

It was science. Sometimes it surprised her, but it invariably followed logic and sense and was a perfect slice of the universe. Just as her parents had taught her, over and over, the wonders of science. From the very beginning when Brian wrote her math problems on sheets of legal paper, teaching her addition and subtraction, to her first real go at experiments in the yard with Lily and a children's chemistry set.

She stared at her phone for a moment. Then she texted her father.

Gail and I are taking a long weekend up at the cabin.

She knew it was banal and that her father was probably still asleep (it was three hours earlier). But Holly had been trying to text him regularly, letting him remember that life moved on. That there were still people who loved him and needed him.

As loathe as Holly was to admit it, she shared Gail's concerns to her father's mental health. Brian had never been the most stable person Holly had known. Sometimes she worried that his reliance on Lily meant a crumbling of sanity now that she was gone.

That thought echoed in her heart, aching hollowly. Lily was gone. Her mother was dead. None of the Pecks in her life tended to sugar coat that word. They said it with a firm finality. They knew the passing of life in a way that soaked into their bones. They knew the agony of loss, the pain of it all. Oh, Pecks knew death and angst more than anyone.

But too, they knew strength and how to survive it all. They stood, silently crying out that they had made it through. That was their defiance. Their super power. Pecks survived. They could be shot, kidnapped, blown up, divorced, blackmailed, extorted, abandoned, or anything else the world threw at them. It sometimes made Holly wish she'd taken the name.

Should she? It wasn't as if there was a time limit on that sort of thing. One could go online and handle it, after all. Just say she wanted her wife's name. No doubt some clerk would get misty eyed and stamp it and, if there had to be an in-person chat, tell her she was an old romantic for her age. And age did factor in. Twenty years ago, in the start of the prime of her career, Holly Stewart becoming Holly Peck would have thrown her papers for a loop. There would have been confusion and comments and even now, those things were still a mess.

Except now that she was looking squarely at sixty, it didn't matter. In another five or ten years, she'd be retired. No more papers and research and speaking. No more Dr. Stewart. Just ... Mrs. Holly Stewart. Wife. Mother. Grandmother maybe. And that could be pretty awesome too.

There was more to be in life than just one thing. Making choices and sacrifices to be something else, "something greater than just yourself" as Elaine would say, was par for the course. But being greater then the individual came in so many favors. Holly and Gail gave much of themselves to the world, to Toronto, to serve and protect a city that didn't always like them. Vivian had picked up on that and, desperate for her tribe, clung to it as her own goal.

And yet even Vivian knew there was more to life than just being a cop or a Peck or anything else. There was love. There was joy. There were the things that made a person smile. So while Holly loved science and she loved her work, the idea of slowing down a little was not a terrible one. Because after giving of herself for years, she deserved some of this. She would leave Toronto and Canada and the world in the best hands possible.

A voice startled her out of her rather deep morning thoughts.

"Holly, have you seen my dress shoes? I need to get to court."

Court? That wasn't good. Holly looked up at the stairs. "You cleaned them and left them in the office to air out."

"Right! Thanks babe."

"Anything important?"

"Just some bullshit in the arsons from last year. Should be in and out."

Well. That was alright. Holly poured Gail some more coffee in a travel mug and waited until Gail came back down the stairs, carrying her jacket, tie, and hat. "Gail. How would you feel if I took the name Peck?"

Gail froze. "The fuck?"

Holly smiled at Gail's incurable honesty. "Annoyed. Check."

"Confused. Bewildered. Contemplating calling the shrink."

Still smiling, Holly took the tie and looped it around Gail's neck. It was comforting to do that for Gail, much for the same reasons Gail liked to brush and braid Holly's hair no doubt. They were capable of doing it themselves, but the moment of care was nice. "I was thinking about it. That's all."

Gail lifted her chin to give Holly a better view. "Crazy thinking. You don't want to be a Peck. Besides, it would screw up your career."

"Not now, honey." Holly slowly did the tie up and then kissed Gail softly. While still bearing the veneer of confusion, Gail returned the kiss. It was nice and soft, gentle and warm. It was the kind of kissing that soothed the soul and made Holly think about nothing but love.

"I'd sooner take Stewart," Gail said, pointedly. "I think ... You know I don't give a damn. But if you want to..."

"I don't know if I want to. It was just a thought."

Her wife frowned. "So ... What? When you retire?"

Holly sighed. "I think it's time to cut back."

Gail arched her perfect eyebrows. "On coffee?"

"On jobs. I'm the highest ranking medical examiner in the city and the territory."

God bless, Gail caught that in one. "Go back to just the city? I like that idea. Means I can see you naked more." When Holly laughed, Gail beamed and kissed her again. "I like that a lot better than Holly Peck."

"It was just a thought, Gail." Holly smoothed Gail's collar and ran her hands down the white-sleeved arms. "Real retirement is coming on sooner than later, you know."

To that, Gail winced. "We are not old." Catching Holly's hands, Gail squeezed them.

"Having second thoughts about retiring?"

Gail shook her head. "No, but Frankie is. I wanna offer her a promotion." She paused. "Mom was the first to retire."

Holly blinked. "And then Captain Awesome. And next ... You?"

"Well. You if you take Peck. I know you thought about it before but..." Gail sighed. "I really have to go to court." She gently cupped Holly's face with one hand. "This feels like something big, though. Something we should talk about." Her voice was soft and Gail's thumb brushed Holly's cheek.

Leaning into the touch, Holly smiled. "We can talk later, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world."

Her blonde dreamboat looked unconvinced but kissed Holly once more before heading out. Holly sighed and watched the car drive away and the sun break through and the familiar streets of their home. They'd lived at the house for nearly twenty years. That was such a phenomenal concept, really.

It was a big house, bigger than the townhouse by half, and they'd dipped into savings to pay it off. But it was a comfort. It had the room Vivian needed to grow, for Gail and Holly to work, for guests to stay, and for them to not feel crowded. Over nineteen years, and they'd filled the garage and the walls and the garden with their lives. Books, photos, paintings, furniture, and a whole life.

"We should stay here," said Holly firmly.

Even though the idea of the house being too large had been her own, now Holly saw a room for her daughter and a partner. A room for children. Maybe they could turn Vivian's room into a yoga room. Or into a guest room. It had the better bath setup after all. The current guest room had a tiny, nearly useless, shower tub. Gail said it was only good for sitting on while crying.

But this was home. This was their home. This was a place of safety and security and sanctity that Gail and Holly had built for themselves. Maybe Vivian would want it later on, when she had a family, and maybe not. But. This was home, and home it should stay.

And Gail was right. She was Holly Stewart, no middle name thank you, and that was how she should stay.


The last time Vivian had been up to the cottage with someone really sick or hurt, it had been when she was sixteen and Gail had been shot. Holly post hospital didn't really count, as she was just exhausted and Vivian was too young to really understand it all. Still, Gail. The damage had been trivial, not even a broken rib thanks to the new and improved vests. The bruising though had been spectacular. And the mental damage had been a real fucking winner.

Because, as it happened, Gail had been hit by a bullet that missed another detective. No, the other four bullets had not missed Detective Jo Rosati. Brains had splattered over Gail, giving her terrible dreams and a gaunt face for days. As soon as the doctor assured them Gail could sit up long enough (as that had been an issue), Holly had thrown them all in the car and gone up to the cottage for a long weekend.

The sleep that had eluded Gail for a week was found on the second day in the cottage. Vivian had gone for a dawn run down the looping trail and came back to find Holly awake and making coffee, with Gail still sound asleep. In the gloaming of morning, Holly explained that Jo had helped Gail to study for her detective's badge, and while the woman had a storied history with Fifteen, she was still their family. Apparently Jo had slept with Andy's then fiancé, someone named Callaghan, a name Vivian barely remembered at first, but the deep sadness on Holly's faces reminded her of the man who had died protecting Holly from the crazy guy with Ebola.

Gail, though. She didn't show up until nearly dinner, looking exhausted but finally rested.

Similarly, Jamie did nothing but rest the first full day they were up at the cottage. The first night, arrival night, they'd sat out under the stars for hours, eating the roasted beef and pork ribs and watching the stars come out. It was novel to Jamie, a city girl, who had marveled over the shooting stars, the haze of the galaxy and the reflections in the lake.

When Vivian made a fire, it was even more amazing to the other woman. Jamie laughed at the sparks it threw into the sky and the way the smoke blended with the clouds. They stayed out until the edge of the sky changed color and Jamie finally yawned and drooped and let Vivian show her the bedroom and shower.

Jamie didn't sleep well that first night. Not worse, but certainly no better than she had been back in the city. The magic of the cottage waited until the second day. Vivian made sandwiches and they sat in the shade under Holly's favorite tree, reading in the lazy summer day. That was when Jamie drifted off, her tablet sliding from her hand.

A scant hour later Jamie woke, but it began the restfulness that was well needed. That night she slept like a rock, deep into the morning, and woke up looking actually good for a change. She'd been bright eyed for a change, eager for something to do with her still limited energy. The short walk along the shore was all Jamie was really up for, making it back with a case of common tired and not the bone weary exhaustion.

"Why am I so tired?" Jamie complained as she sat inside on the couch.

"Healing takes a lot of energy. Hungry?"

"God. Yes."

"How about I fire up the grill? We have some chicken."

"Ugh." Making a face, Jamie leaned back and craned her neck to study Vivian. "How are you always so energetic?"

Vivian laughed. "You've seen me dead ass tired, McGann. Fell asleep in the middle of a movie."

Her girlfriend giggled. "And so tired you asked me to move in without a thought in your pretty head."

"At least you think I'm pretty," Vivian said with a fake sigh.

"Come here, and I'll show you." Jamie's tone was lightly suggestive. Enough so that Vivian leaned over the back of the couch and kissed her. It was a warm kiss. Not the sort that led to a shirt grabbing session, but the soft kind that Vivian had grown used to seeing between her mothers.

Then, to her surprise, Jamie's uninjured hand snaked up to hold the back of Vivian's neck, drawing her still and steady. "I thought you were tired."

Jamie smiled, eyes closed lazily. "Not for a little old fashioned teenaged necking."

"Yeah?" She moved around the couch and kissed Jamie again.

Well. That could be done without hurting Jamie, certainly. Vivian would have to be careful about Jamie's back and arm, but ... She craved the safety of touching Jamie a little more. Vivian wanted to remind herself of the curve of Jamie's body, the shape of her lips, the feel of it all.

That had always been her problem with Jamie. Not problem like bad problem. The gravity of the other woman drew her in. That first kiss, the one full of hope and promise, had been so unlike the others she'd had before. Jamie was so vibrant and possessing a fervor of life... Outgoing and bold. The things Vivian was not.

So they sat on the couch for a while, kissing lazily in the warm summer day. The ceiling fan moved the air enough that they could forget about the heat. It was cooler anyway, at the lake. The breeze came from the water, passing through the house and out, swirling the sweet summer smell of flower and trees.

And she forgot the pain of the summer. It didn't matter that Vivian's aunt was dying, or that her grandmother had died. It didn't matter that Jamie had nearly gotten killed. The summer was coming to an end and they had survived. They'd made it through and they still had each other.

But all things, even lazy summer kissing. They eventually broke apart, mutually, as if by some unspoken or psychic understanding. Gently caressing Vivian's face, Jamie looked peaceful. "You were right, you know."

"Hmm?"

"This place is good for resting." Jamie ran her thumb over Vivian's cheekbones. "Thank you."

Vivian felt her face heat up. "I'm glad."

Jamie laughed and kissed her again, a little more warmly and with a sort of possessive intent. "You're adorable, Viv."

That made her feel beet red, though she knew it wasn't visible. "God, stop." She kissed Jamie's cheek and got up. "I'm starting food. You don't have to eat."

Her girlfriend laughed. "You like me."

Pausing in the kitchen, Vivian smiled shyly. "I do. I do like you."

Jamie grinned. "See? You are in touch with your inner feelings."

The air felt a little heavy with pronouncements just then, so Vivian turned on her best Gail. "Hey, right now my inner feelings just want food."

"God!" Jamie giggled and got up. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were Gail's flesh and blood. How the hell does she eat like that?"

"She has an over active metabolism. Not hyper or anything, she just burns her food faster than most people. Gets some killer headaches if she doesn't eat enough before bed." Vivian smiled and took out the spices, setting up her rub for the chicken.

The memory of watching Gail eat for the first time had stuck with her. It was the first meal where no one had nagged her about eating. All the other foster homes had been on her to eat. In retrospect, Vivian knew that a five year old who was in the bottom 10% of her age peers for height and weight was cause for alarm. She'd been perilously close to the medical diagnosis for failure to thrive, and she couldn't explain to anyone why at the time.

Over the recent years, she'd come to sort out that her biological parents hadn't starved her so much as just not had enough. They were all skinny in a way that her trained cop eye called unhealthy. If she'd seen the family today, she'd call CPS or a social worker to get them fed. But the nagging, the fighting, had been her biological father yelling about the quantity and quality.

Of course the foster homes had seen the too small, too skinny, too insular child and tried to make her eat and socialize. Of course the kid who'd seen adults fight about food had taken it poorly. It wasn't their fault. They didn't know, they couldn't know, and there was no autopsy done on their case like there was on Law & Order or CSI. They checked to be sure the bullet caliber that killed her biological family was from the same gun. They checked the GSR. They checked blood/alcohol levels. They looked for reasons and, finding nothing specific and everything generic, filed it away as one of those tragic things.

Then there were Gail and Holly, who loved good food and had the means to acquire it. They cooked 'adult' food for her, telling her if she didn't like it they could make something else, but magically without any pressure or weight to the words. It was made clear that they simply didn't know what Vivian liked, and were willing to try.

They'd given her freedom. Freedom to find out who she was, what she liked, and what she didn't. The chance to discover herself, the world, and everything in between. It was a gift Vivian wasn't sure she'd ever be able to repay.

And Gail... Well. That first meal was indelibly etched in her memory. Gail eating a plate of food, not seemingly faster, but enough that she was done before Holly was halfway. As Gail refilled her plate, she looked at Vivian's where the fish had been picked at but the potatoes were gone, and asked if Vivian had tried them together in the same bite.

She smiled at the memory. That simple question, followed by Vivian's confused response, wondering why anyone would, and suddenly the world of good food was opened up before her. Mixing flavors.

"It's pretty wild," said Jamie, startling Vivian out of her head. "I mean, she's not tiny like that Sgt. Price... By the way, who the hell is she and why did she hug me at a scene last month?"

Vivian snorted a laugh. "Chloe. She's ... She's married to Dov, who used to be my sergeant and before that was Gail's roommate. Chloe was a long year behind them at the academy, but they're family."

"Does she hug everyone?"

"Pretty much. Even Gail. I think she puts up with it because she actually likes Chloe."

Jamie looked dubious. "She's incredibly perky and intense."

"That she is. She's been heading up the UC ops pretty much my whole life."

The lightbulb went on for Jamie. "Oh! She's the one who was undercover when your mom saved the king!"

"Prince, and yes."

"That's so cool. Do you guys get to meet the Royals when they come visit?"

Vivian hesitated and took the chicken out. May as well say it. "Yes. The older two, Prince George and Princess Charlotte, are only a couple years younger than I am, y'know."

She waited, watching Jamie through the reflection on the window. Finally her girlfriend gaped.

"You met the whole Royal Family!?"

Nodding, Vivian put the chicken in her marinade. "We were teenagers. It was ... Interesting."

"Holy fuck." Jamie leaned back and stared. "Interesting. Girlfriend, you have lived an incredibly blessed life."

"It's had its ups and downs," admitted Vivian. "But on the whole, yeah. I'm lucky as fuck."

Jamie opened the cabinets and took out two glasses. "I'm making iced tea. Real iced tea. With sugar in it."

"Topic change much?" Vivian smirked and put the chicken in the fridge to marinate.

"Well, you not being telepathic, let me explain." Jamie drawled. "I was thinking that you have had some incredibly shitty luck with your bio-fam and all that crap. And it's not like life was perfect since you got adopted, but ... How the hell can none of you know how to make sweet iced tea!?"

Vivian broke up laughing. "How the hell do you know?"

Jamie stuck out her lower lip. "Dad's great gran was from Alabama."

"Oh man, I'm dating a girl with American blood?" Vivian smirked and went to the back deck. "You're sleeping in Steve's room."

Jamie laughed. "How about I start the grill?"

"Trying to win me back with your fiery ways?"

"I actually do know how to make fires," said Jamie, sassing.

"Fine, fine. Light the fires, hose monkey. I'm going to swim and cool off if you don't mind. Come dangle your feet."

Jamie hesitated. "Is it safe?"

Vivian blinked. "Swimming? Sure. I learned forever ago."

"Leaving the grill to swim."

"Oh. Yeah. We'll be right there." She went into the bedroom and switched to her swim suit. Jamie was still dithering by the grill. "Come on, McGann." Vivian rolled her eyes and put the charcoal in the chimney, stuffing newspaper in the base. "Show me your mad matchstick skills, will ya?"

Trusting Jamie would sort it out, Vivian dropped her shirt and towel on the dock and dove in. Sluicing the dirt of the day and the heat off of her body was luxurious. Maybe she'd take a turn in the hot tub later, if it cooled off enough. For a moment, Vivian stayed under the water, reveling in the delight of weightlessness. Sensory deprivation.

There was no sound besides her own heartbeat. And with her eyes closed, Vivian felt free of all burdens and fears and doubts. She could simply be. At least for a while. The need for oxygen drove her to the surface and she popped up, sucking in the fresh and clear air.

"I was starting to worry!" Jamie waved from the dock, her feet in the water. "Isn't it cold?"

"Freezing!" Vivian laughed. It was mountain run off and far from warm, but given the heat of the day it was delicious. "You should come in."

"With this arm?"

"It'll be good for you." Vivian ducked under and swam father out, using the long strokes Gail and Elaine had shown her on her first trip up. Before that she'd learned to swim ... Actually she didn't know when. She couldn't remember not knowing how to walk or swim. Though her mothers had helped her perfect the swimming. The water at the cottage was a natural playground for her youth.

Jamie shook her head. "I'll just watch."

Not for the first time, Vivian wondered if her girlfriend knew a thing. This time it was swimming. Certainly she didn't know horses or gardening or shooting. It made Vivian wonder how vastly different their lives had been. From the wreckage of her birth family, Vivian had grown up in the cradle of encouragement and growth. She was taught the generic lessons of swimming and running and testing her limits. But she was shown the important ones of patience and love. Trust.

That night, instead of falling asleep right away, Jamie was awake and lying in bed with her eyes open, apparently listening to the sounds of nature. Vivian smiled as she hung up her towel and slipped into the bed. "Can't sleep?"

"Was waiting." Jamie's hand found her own under the covers. "It's really special up here."

"Hmm. Yeah," said Vivian, quietly. Her voice naturally softened up at the cottage. Everyone's did.

"It's like... I could sleep forever." Jamie sighed. "Thank you."

Vivian squeezed the hand in hers. "You're welcome." She gently rubbed Jamie's hand with her thumb, getting a happy noise from her girlfriend. "I'm glad you got some rest."

"Me too. It quiets your mind here." She rolled to her side, her good side, and smiled at Vivian. "Thank you."

"You said that already."

"I did." Jamie leaned in and kissed her softly.

Vivian smiled into the kiss, freeing her hand to prop herself up and allow her other to remind itself of Jamie's shape. Slowly, slowly she explored the peaks and valleys with her fingertips. The form of the well fit firefighter was one Vivian was mostly familiar with but just then, as she had needed to earlier on the couch, she desperately craved the touch. The feel under her hands.

She tipped Jamie back, settling them both against the bed, hastily pushing the too many pillows off the sides. Really, Elaine? Who needed that many damned pillows! But forget Elaine. And Gail and Holly and everything except the moment. Forget the world except for this time and place. Forget all tactile sensations save for the soft caress of skin on skin, the rougher press of cotton bedding that was worn smooth from generations of Pecks and washings and dryings that were both outside in the sun and inside in the machine.

Forget.

There was this moment and this woman and nothing more to the universe.

The stars were born and they died. The universe swirled and created itself again and again. And then, at last, as it always did, time returned. The sounds of the world intruded with the whoosh of wind in trees, the croaks of frogs, the serenade of insects. A low lowing of a moose far away. The deep breath of a firefighter, lying on her back, her beautiful brown eyes closed, her lips smiling in a peaceful, serene manner.

There were words, certain special words, that likely should be said. Those words were not ones the universe gifted Vivian with just then. She didn't really think them. No, in the darkness she gently caressed Jamie's face and smiled.

She too felt at peace.


To be continued...

There will be a part two to this because I got to page thirty and I'd not even gotten Gail and Holly up to the cottage. At that point, it was clear things had to be stretched out a little. I put more of the case back in to further that a touch.