03.12 - Brotherhood
The force gets closer to understanding Safary and her movies, while Vivian experiences life with a live-in-girlfriend, and Holly and John make a breakthrough that astounds everyone.
As Holly had her own experts in myriad fields hosted in the lab, and had spent decades going to talks and lectures, she knew she was familiar with all types of amazing presentations. She knew what genius, intelligence, and innovation looked like. Still. Holly had not realized until this moment how much of an expert her own daughter was. Vivian was presenting, with charts and graphs and examples, the actual patterns behind a series of bombs.
Beside her, Gail's blonde head was canted slightly to the side in interest. They both had been surprised when ETF had asked to present their findings. Normally Sue's folks sent a half assed report. This, though, this was professional. Vivian had laid out her notes clearly, written the report in a way that non-bomb experts (read: Holly) followed along and picked up new terms, and yet she didn't overwhelm the police officers.
It was also eerily familiar and Holly wasn't sure why,
"She sounds just like you," said Gail under her breath.
Holly choked on her coffee. "What?"
"She sounds like you giving a lesson." Gail scratched her chin. "It's the cadence."
Having never listened to herself like that, Holly frowned and studied her kid.
Vivian was confident, first of all. Unlike Gail. Decades gone by, and Gail could easily give a presentation or a news brief, but she still detested it and delegated when possible. The times Gail did speak in front of people, she was tense and her old self doubt creeped in. Vivian though was comfortable standing up in front of people, detailing out technicalities and ideas. And the cadence... Jesus, it sounded just like Lily, which meant it had to be learned from Holly and no one else.
Well. Unless Vivian had made a point of looking up Lily's old talks from a pre-TED world. Which was possible, but unlikely. No. This was definitely Holly, and weirdly it was the kid who never read Holly's papers.
Oh.
Her kid totally watched her prep for trials and her own TED talks though. Since those tended to be dialed down for human consumption, as Gail put it, young Vivian had watched Holly a hundred times. Specifically she watched Holly practice explaining science to non-scientists. Yet that wasn't quite what Vivian was doing here. She was explaining to both scientists and cops (some of whom were into science), the break down of how matter where Safary set her bombs, they were all clearly built in Toronto, based on the parts and the trace. Plus Vivian was reasonably certain that the different trace was because Safary built each component separately and combined them on site.
"Hold the phone," said Wayne. He lifted his hand. "I'm with you putting together the rest of that, but how do you figure on site? There's no way to tell if the trace is from the placement or the build."
Vivian didn't even hesitate. "The burn tests actually did just that, Doctor."
The room went silent.
A cop was telling a scientist he was wrong about his own lab.
Holly arched her eyebrows and quickly sipped her tea so no one would expect her to speak. Beside her, Gail just grinned.
"They ... What?"
"When I compared the burns... So here." Vivian tapped through to different slide. This one had a chart. "You can see the controlled burn results on the straw. The blue column is control, purple column is with the, ah, shows the use of the accelerate Dr. Stewart found, and the green is a mix. Now the green is what we saw in the field. The chemical break downs had a mix where most of the straw was burnt with the antiperspirant, but not all. And the straw didn't match from bomb to bomb."
A different silence settled in the room. Even Sue looked shocked.
"The straw didn't match?" Holly asked as she put her tea down.
"They didn't ... The only time the straw matched our samples was the barn." Vivian tilted her head to one side, her jaw jutting out just a bit like Gail's did when saying something she expected to meet resistance. That was the look of a Peck expecting a fight.
Holly looked at the screen. "Which made you think that the straw wasn't actually a consistent. Show me the straw comparison." Silent, Vivian flipped to that diagram. There she had clearly recorded how the straw matched samples from the specific locations, but not from their common resources. "Where did you get the samples?"
"Most of them were on record from evidence from the cases."
No one had tried to match them like this. They all just assumed it was expected detritus. "Most. Did you collect the rest?"
"No, ma'am. I looked up cases in the same locations for the rest."
Holly smiled. "It's an interesting thought. Material inside would burn differently, and there's no reason, other than on-site assembly, for location specific evidence to be inside the bomb. Wayne, let's do the follow up."
Gobsmacked, Wayne was staring at the charts. "Holy fuck. Yeah, yeah. Uh. Ananda?"
His cohort in crime solving was grinning. "No problem. Ah ... Officer Peck. Can you identify what parts from what location?"
"Sure. Some, Dr. Ames." Vivian gestured at the tablet in her hand. "The circuit boards we found in the storage unit. The arson was where she made the paintball things. I broke down each component into their logical parts, compared it to the consistent evidence like the rubber and the sand, and came up with a likely... Um. Emailing."
"Thank you," said Ananda. "Finally hired yourself a scientist, huh, Lt. Tran?"
Sue smirked. "She can do electronics too. Best Rover pilot we've got." She clapped Vivian on the shoulder and the rookie smiled, a little abashed. "Nice job, rook."
"Thank you." Vivian's smile was restrained. If Holly hadn't been familiar with playing cards and other bluffing games with the girl, she might have thought it was just a shy smile. Knowing her daughter, however, Holly understood Vivian's delight.
"I'll have the lab get back to you, Sue—"
"Peck," said Sue firmly. "Peck found it, she filed it, she runs with it." And Sue paused, grinning. "Unless Inspector Peck would like to assign a detective to supervise."
Gail held a poker face worthy of a Guinness Record. It was her normal expression of apathy and slight disdain. "EDU is under ETF, Lt. Tran. Unless you're suggesting OC take over."
Sue kept grinning. She was far too used to Gail. "And after I saved your life, this is how you treat me? Veiled threats of takeovers?"
"You broke my ribs and destroyed my car," drawled Gail.
"Saved. Your. Life."
Holly groaned. "Okay, that's it. I'm kicking you both out. Sue, you and Bomb Peck will get the same results as Petulant Peck."
Smirking, Vivian finally dared to sass. "I have a cooler nickname."
"Watch out, or we call you Glitter Peck." Gail matched the smirk. "Come on. I need a word with you and Sue about how we are going to tackle this one."
We. That one word had Vivian puffing up a little.
Holly tried to smother her smirk as her wife and daughter headed out to talk to Sue. She failed, based on the giggles from her lab as soon as the cops were gone. "All of you shut up," snarled Holly with zero venom.
"Sorry," said Wayne, not sounding sorry at all.
"Seriously, she's smart," said Ananda.
"ETF is a good spot," said Ben, the head of field work. He was soon to be Holly's newly minted assistant medical director, a position change they both were excited about. Still, Ben's remark was a bit surprising.
Holly arched her eyebrows. "That's the first anyone's said that, Ben."
The man scoffed. "They're not paying attention. She's got the eye, you know? That look." Ben waved his hands. "She gets the science in a non-theoretical way. The mind behind the science. Not the motive, the builder."
Interesting. Holly had never heard it put that way. "Not a terribly inaccurate assessment," she said thoughtfully. "Alright, well now that a rookie did your jobs, go get the evidence. Ben?"
"On it, boss. If anything, at least we'll get some more samples for the databases."
"We have petabytes, plural, of evidence data in our files," whinged Wayne as he followed Ben out. "Who the hell cares if we know a specific cigarette was made in a certain factory in 1989?"
Ben's voice was lost as the men rounded the corner, but Holly heard him point out they solved a lot of cold cases that way.
"Ugh, Men," muttered Ananda.
"I know, right?"
"If it doesn't affect them personally, it's not a real thing."
"Can't argue that." Holly picked up her tea mug and Gail's (seriously?) before adding a final thought. "I wonder if Vivian twigged to the mentality when she talked to Safary."
Ananda's eyes widened. "That wasn't a rumor? Jesus H. Christ." The woman shuddered. "How the hell can they be so calm all the time?"
"Hell if I know. Call up if you need anything. I've got a lead on pawn shop slash and dash I need to follow up on."
"Sure thing, boss."
Holly nodded and headed back up to her office. As impressed as she was with her daughter, and she was, it was easy for her to slip back into the mindset of the case on the top of her personal deck. A thief who ran into a pawn shop, slashed someone in the arm, and ran off but not before the victim managed to get the knife. Time for some magic to lift prints.
God, how Holly loved her job.
The light from the city filtered in through the stained glass.
Vivian watched the shadows change as cars drove by.
"You need to sleep," said Jamie, her voice quiet.
"Can't. I'm thinking about thermodynamics."
And it was Holly's fault. At dinner that night, her mother had made an off handed comment about how energy could neither be created nor destroyed, which meant that the energy used in the overpopulation of the planet had to come from somewhere.
While Gail had joked that it explained the continuance of global warming, Vivian had been caught by the notion that, if matter and energy really were constants, where had it all come from. Overpopulation had to come from somewhere. Was this transmutation of the energy from dinosaurs or meteors or what. And where did it come from before all that?
"Oh my god." Jamie laughed and muffled her face in her pillow. "You are such a nerd."
Vivian sighed. "Sorry."
"That is adorable." Jamie picked her head up and grinned, her teeth flashing in the night. "You're trying to solve the problem of the creation of the universe."
"You can sleep on the couch." She wasn't serious and Jamie knew it. The short-haired firefighter giggled and rolled over. "Distract me, please?"
"Oh god, I'm tired," said Jamie, apologetically.
It took Vivian a moment to sort the words out in her head. "Oh... God no. Not sex. I mean, yes, sex, but not right now!" Vivian covered her face with a pillow. "I meant my brain. Distract me with something I don't know."
Jamie made a noise of understanding. "I'm going to grow my hair out."
Okay, that was new. Vivian peeked. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I just ... I liked it better longer. Maybe not as long, but longer." Jamie hesitated. "Did ... Do you like it shorter?"
"I don't know. I never thought about it..." Vivian took the pillow off her face and hugged it. "I did like playing with it. But I can, y'know, grip short hair."
They both snickered. "That is a bonus. You need a haircut though. It's all wild and thick." Reaching over, Jaime ran a hand through Vivian's hair. "God, how the hell is it so lustrous? Hair like this is wasted on a girl who hates showers."
"Oh my god, I was six years old!" But Vivian chortled. "I hate how long it takes to dry."
"Present tense?"
"S'why I keep it short." Vivian knew she was being as petulant as Gail, but sometimes that just expressed exactly what she was feeling.
Jamie reached over and ruffled Vivian's hair. "I like it. It suits you, even when it's all messy. Gives you a ... A vibe."
"I'm not sure what that means," admitted Vivian.
"It means I think you're sexy, moron." Jamie kissed her nose. "Go to sleep. A pretty girl thinks you're hot."
Vivian sighed and closed her eyes. If she wasn't thinking about thermodynamics, she was thinking about Safary and the bomb building. It had taken her a while, piecing together the examples of bombs and the conversations she'd had with Safary. Seeing how fast the woman had put together a bomb, knowing it had been safe enough to carry around the bits used, told Vivian that there was a high level of design that went into the bomb.
If a bomb was safe enough to carry around, then either it was incredibly stable or it was built in a way that only a certain action would cause it to explode. To the best of Vivian's knowledge, no bomb was that safe. Even bombs on planes and boats were treated with the utmost care and precision. They had a million fail safes and security procedures and cautions, but we're also built by professionals.
Not that Safary wasn't a professional. It was certainly possible that she was capable of that high quality of work. The trick was they hadn't seen that level of perfection. There was good work, better than Vivian could do consistently (or quickly), and there was artistry, but there was a limit to how much one person could possibly do.
So the best assumption Vivian had was that Safary was building her bombs in components. That would also account for the myriad locations. Build the paint ball things in a shitty crime ridden building where they would do the least damage. Build the circuit boards in a storage room where there was little traffic or distractions. Build the casings someplace there was filler. And then click it all together.
It wasn't until Vivian had access to all the bomb results that her theory started to gel, however. She could see pieces that didn't make logical sense. Why would there be more braces here and there? Why were the design choices what they were? The answer had to be for modularity. The design only made sense if it accounted for rapid compilation and deployment.
Who the hell did that? Actually scratch that. Why didn't everyone do that?! It caused a bit of over design in the work, of course, duplicating effort since some aspects were going to be repeated. And making anything modular and pluggable was harder to quickly add more on to, because the design was limited to what ports it was built with, more than normal.
The Lego building of bombs was still brilliant. Separating control, payload, and casing meant they could be hot swapped out at a moment's notice. It meant only having to carry the portions needed. Leaving some parts out was suddenly safe. Safer. Someone could cause all sorts of drama with those fucking paintballs.
Jamie's snore startled Vivian out of her thoughts.
In the last two months, Vivian had gotten very used to sleeping in the same bed as someone else. That didn't mean she was really accustomed to it, though. She was used to it. She was used to the sounds and movements of Jamie. She was used to the way the other woman would snore a few times when she fell into that deep sleep, and then return to quiet. She was used to the way that Jamie would drift towards her, touch her, and drift back to the other side of the bed.
And she liked it. She really did enjoy the fact that Jamie was there. And that was weird to her. Sleeping in the same room (or bed) as Gail and Holly had been alright as a child. It had always been for comfort. Just like sleeping in the same bed as her sister had been.
This was a totally different thing. This was comfort, yes, but it was also something else, something more. Maybe it was just a different kind of comfort, a different level? Well. That was something her shrink could get into.
A yawn snuck up. Vivian exhaled deeply and felt herself start to slip away into the place where sleep lived. She took a deep breath, another, and then... Then she slept.
"If we accept the deaths at the train station were an accident, how low of a sentence can we aim for?"
The lawyer looked appalled. "You want to lower the sentence?"
Gail sighed. "In the event that we catch her, I want to make as much use of her as humanly possible. She's smart, she's talented, and she's dangerous." And Gail was, if nothing else, fully opportunistic. She could use Safary as either a CI or a consultant, but only if she could be flipped. "There's no way she'll help us if we don't make it worth her while. She can sit in prison and rot for her whole life just to spite us. I don't want that."
That concept seemed to boggle the minds of the legal team. "Well. We can figure something out, but you don't even have leads yet."
"Actually," said Gail, drawing the word out. "Thanks to the diligent work of ETF, we have isolated two more of her cells. Where she stores and builds components for her bombs."
Components. That simple idea, that solution to the bizarre problem of where the bomb was built had been found by Vivian thinking about building each part separately. She had then expanded her theory to the trace evidence, using it to find not a single location but multiple ones. That was the difference. Multiple build locations. Final assembly on site. And it worked.
"Sorry... She builds in multiple places?"
"She has a ... Think of it like Legos. Safary builds different parts in different places."
The lawyer muttered under his breath. "You can do that?" But he diligently wrote it down. "Okay. I will ... I will work out a potential deal. Have it prepped and ready. Do we need warrants?"
"Just the three," Gail said, a little morose. They needed one for all cell signal on a specific day at a specific location. The barn. Twice now the request had been turned down by the judge for being too broad. The other two were simpler and had more to do with access to potential locations.
"I'll have them for you by tomorrow at the latest." The lawyer made a final note and got up. As he walked out, he muttered. "Legos, Jesus."
No kidding. Gail grimaced and rubbed her face. She regretted taking over the case, in part. Sticky, stubborn, hard to solve cases could be rewarding, but she had a feeling this was going to end poorly.
"Social justice warrior Safary," mused Gail aloud.
That was her current theory at least. Safary was killing people who needed killing. How she found them and why she decided on them was a mystery still. As much as Gail loved solving mysteries, she hated being mired in them.
Thus far, there was no connection to the various different bombings. Random. Connected only in their causes. Maybe.
Okay. So list it all out. A circus abusing animals. A women's shelter that was embezzling. An orphanage that beat children and sold them to the highest bidder. A jeweler who was selling fakes. An antique store that was connected to human smuggling.
All some degree of asshole. Most were pretty horrific. Some were venal. What was the connection? Gail stared at the list of the companies on her smart wall. None related.
"Ugh. This makes no sense."
"Your kid having no dancing ability makes no sense either."
Gail leaned back to look at John, looming in her doorway. "You are aware she was adopted, right?"
"I seem to recall that." He grinned. "I finally got to really meet her girlfriend. Jamie's adorable."
"I would not call a woman who can carry people twice her size out of a burning building 'adorable,' but that's just me."
"Good point." John leaned against the doorframe. "So. Any clues on how Safary gets her marks?"
"Unless the dark web has some database of all the asshole companies out there, no." Gail pushed back from her desk and propped her feet up.
"Probably all up and up on the regular web," said John, thoughtfully. "Try Googling for a list of unethical companies? WikiLeaks style."
Gail smirked. "I want you to think about how long ago WikiLeaks was." When John flinched, she went on. "They're all listed there, but that doesn't explain why them, you know?"
Her sergeant nodded. "I gotcha." His eyes drifted to the board. "Did you get any useful evidence from the barn?"
"Not evidence, no, but we did get some interesting notes. Like she's apparently worked at multiple barns in Toronto. So I sent out the sketch to every barn near where a suspected bombing took place."
Again, John flinched. "That's hella wide, Gail."
"Got a better idea?"
"The web one? Remember the CraigsList case?"
She did. Of course she did. The rental scams. "Oh sure. But they had phone numbers and we had people complaining."
"So look for something about the companies around the time frame in the area?"
Dryly, Gail pointed out the obvious. "You understand that's terabytes of data, right?"
"How did the barns find Safary? Or vice versa?"
Gail stared. "I hate you. You're a genius. Get out."
With a mock salute, John grinned and stepped back out, closing the door. And he was a fucking genius. Safary had been hired from an ad posted on a horse related job site. Gail had the email chain and the IPs used. It was a long shot to assume Safary would be stupid enough to use the same IP, but she asked the computer techs anyways and got an odd answer.
Safary was using a TOR node.
How many people visiting a horse site would do that? Most were just folks looking for jobs, or fanatics, and those two groups rarely were ultra-security conscious. Gail picked up her phone and began the drawn out process of getting a warrant for all internet traffic to HorseWorkCanada dot JOBS that came from TOR nodes.
It was not a fun conversation. Gail had to get the geeks and lawyers on the same call to explain the situation, why it was necessary, and how much data she could expect. The lawyer managed to tighten the parameters quite a bit, but the judge threw out the initial request without much thought.
Knowing it was going to be a long one, Gail left the experts to hash it out and booked a retreat. Safely at home, the house was quiet save the sounds of Holly in their office. After locking up her kit, Gail slumped on the couch and announced her grumpiness. "Holly, I hate my job."
Her wife blinked and looked up from her laptop. "Since when?"
"Since this fucking idiot is smarter than I am."
"Ah." Holly typed a little more and closed her laptop. "She's not, you know. Not more than my serial head bashers are smarter than I am."
Gail frowned and looked up. There was something about Holly's voice. "You have a secret."
Her wife smiled and walked around to sit in Gail's lap. "I'm pregnant."
"Funny."
Holly kissed her softly. "I can't tell you yet. Tomorrow."
Huffing, Gail rested her hands on Holly's hips. "I hate the law. Can't you tell me anyway? I won't blab."
But her wife was firm and shook her head. "Not this, no, honey." She kissed Gail again, still soft and sweet and tender and warm.
"You're trying to distract me." And Holly shook her head, only to kiss Gail again and lean into her. Oh. It was that kind of case. Gail pushed aside her growing annoyance at her own case to pull Holly close and exude strength.
There were cases that, when she came home, all Gail craved in the world was to be held by someone. No, not someone. Holly. She just needed a five minute hug from the one person on the planet who understood her. And similarly, there were days Holly came home and all she needed was the same. Other days they couldn't stand to look at each other. Sometimes it was worse and they could only look and hurt.
Holly saw death more often than Gail did, to be honest. Silently, Gail caressed Holly's hair, wondering what the case was that she couldn't yet be told about. No. Don't wonder about that. Gail knew she could do nothing to tell Holly it was all going to be alright. She didn't know, she couldn't know, and right now that wasn't Holly needed. Right now she needed to be reminded she was loved.
That meant Gail had one job to do in the universe.
Think about nothing but Holly and the wonderful person in her lap. Think about the way life changed with a case, with a smile, with a kiss. With a hand holding moment.
Think about how life changed thanks to a pair of brown eyes.
Think about the first morning waking up in bed with her. Not after sex, just sleeping. And think about lazy afternoons and evenings on the old couch, getting bolder and braver and touching more. Think about that first morning, after sex, when so many things about life and love finally made sense.
Think about the other mornings, sitting outside with coffee and the mist on the lake up at the cottage. Think about wearing clothes they'd never be caught dead in anywhere else, hair unkempt, sleepy and happy. Think about feet in laps, toes wriggling under thighs, and fingers seeking out hands in the dark.
Think about the afternoons in their garden, the nights out with each other and friends and family, the sports games and concerts and dances and dinners. Think about the nights in with a movie and popcorn and snide remarks. Think about walking through a park or a market, holding hands.
Think about the life they'd made.
And carry all those thoughts, all the memories, all the moments, and put them into a hug. Tell her, without saying a word, that she was loved.
They stared at the data. "Evidence cannot lie," muttered John.
"Well, actually ..." Holly hesitated.
John scowled at her. "You are not mansplaining this, are you?"
She half-smiled. "No, but I was going to clarify that this could be very confusing and misleading."
The detective shook his head. "You found Bethany's missing leg bone. And you know who killed the man who replaced the bone. And you know the pattern of the killer didn't change except for the bone, which means that it's the same asshole—"
"Probably."
"Ugh. Probably the same asshole. Point is... This is the guy."
Holly looked up at the screen where the face of Ronald Siegel, Ottawa native, stared back at him. He looked perfectly normal and harmless. He looked like a random, normal, guy. He looked like a neighbor or a brother or a cousin. He did not look like a man who had murdered seven people, including Heinrich Haan. The successor to the man who killed Bethany Mills.
And yet that was exactly who he was.
A nice man, respected and trusted by his peers. Siegel did not stand out in any way. He was quiet and well mannered. He had no children, no partner, never married, and always paid his taxes. He didn't stand out at all.
But when Holly had his locations tracked to the killings, it was a hands down match until he moved to Ottawa. Then it stopped. No reason why, he just moved and stopped killing. Still, they found him and handed his identity to Marcel and John. Here. Here was the trail. Here was the man who killed the man who destroyed a life.
Holly had dreaded this moment.
She hadn't wanted to tell Gail the night before because there was a slight chance, a possibility, that the results were wrong and she had the wrong guy. But she knew, Holly knew in her heart that she had the right man. The man who was still alive, possibly still killing, and certainly had been the killer of the man who killed John's fiancé. And she absolutely had to tell John first.
Of all the things Holly could think was what if it was them. What if Perik had killed Gail? What if she'd never met the blonde? What if he'd made good his escape, the plans for which they'd only found after his death... What if he'd come back and killed Gail, after they'd married?
All that bullshit about better to love and lose was bullshit. It was a pain Holly would rather not think about. Loosing her mother had been agony, but losing Gail, especially now, would be gutting. Her mother loved her because she had to. Gail chose her, of all the people in the universe, to love.
And here she was, shoving John into the pain she would gladly avoid.
"Yes," said Holly softly. "It's the guy."
"Well." John sighed. "Shit."
"We have the warrant, but..." Marcel Savard cleared his throat. "John, you have my personal invitation."
John looked at the Mountie in surprise. "In Ottawa."
"Oui. I cannot offer you a uniform this time, but if any many has a right to see this through." The man shrugged. "We would like to arrest him tomorrow or the day after. It is my hope that he is either still killing, or he is in contact with his own successor."
"That's a big stretch." John exhaled. "Let me check with Gail."
Holly spoke up. "And Janet." Both men turned to stare at her. "John, remember when you and Gail went to the prison?"
The man hesitated and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. You're right." To Marcel he explained. "My fiancé. God, and I should call my therapist."
"Ah. Yes, both are wise. We would like to do this sooner rather than later, however."
With a nod, John pulled his phone out and walked out. "Hey, its about the case..." His voice trailed off as he turned the corner to the quiet seating area.
Holly sighed. "Thank you, Marcel."
Her friend nodded. "This is ... this result is more than expected." When Holly opened her mouth to object, Marcel held up a hand. Normally that sort of behavior was irritating, but Marcel looked solemn and contrite. "When you told me you had information on this case, and leads, I thought that it would be as with all things. Empty. No answers, only pain." He shook his head. "Now we have answers."
"Maybe," said Holly softly. "Maybe."
"We will find the truth. We always get our man."
Holly snorted a laugh. "Wow. That's horrible, Marcel." She glanced at her watch which pinged a heartbeat. Gail. Of course. She was talking to John and now knew what Holly couldn't say the night before. "Gail's going to approve John going up."
"Good. He needs the closure."
"How soon are they... how soon are you going?"
"If we can, tonight. Arrest him tomorrow. We have the authority to bring Monsieur Siegel here."
So, if he wanted, John could face the man here. If it was Holly, she would wait. If she'd ever been able to meet Maxim L'Engle, the man who killed Luke and Andrea and nearly Holly, she would have wanted to do so here where it was safe and she could hold Gail's hand and maybe Vivian's too, and not be alone.
She was not John.
"Alright. Are we flying tonight?" He held his phone to his ear but looked thoughtful.
"Oui. We have a small commuter plane."
"Yes," said John to the phone. "Alright. I'll see you when I get home. Love you." He paused, smiled, and hung up. "I need to pack. What time and where?"
Marcel lifted his eyebrows and gestured for John to follow him so they could work out the details. As always, the Québécois excused himself politely. While John did not, Holly could easily forgive his distraction. However. She texted Gail asking if they should invite Janet over for the night (or nights) John was gone, and her wife quickly agreed. Good, they were on the same page.
The hours Holly had waited, alone, for Gail to come back after facing Perik, had been terrifying. She'd not known what kind of Gail to expect. She didn't know if Gail would be angry, sad, frustrated, self-destructive, or god knew what else. Gail had, oddly, been alright for the most part. As much alright as could be when the blonde couldn't sleep.
For some reason, Gail didn't think of herself as mentally strong. This was a woman who got shot at and went back out. A woman who would protect a child with her life. A woman who could talk down a suicidal fire bug. A woman who survived years of emotional abuse by her parents, being kidnapped by a serial killer, was traumatized for life (probably), and yet still got up every morning, put on a badge, and went out to try and make the world a little better.
Gail didn't known her own strength. She didn't know she had the power to survive. But Holly saw it, and Vivian saw it. Hell, Vivian latched on to it like a drowning man.
That was the real reason Holly felt Vivian was Gail's daughter more than her own. And 'more than' wasn't really the right way to say it. Vivian saw the broken parts in Gail, shored up by god knew what, and saw the strength to keep going. Of course Vivian adored and worshiped Gail. Gail was Vivian's hero. Gail was proof anyone could be okay in the end. Gail was hope that Vivian could be alright.
It was only recently that Holly came to fully see what she'd given Vivian as well. Vivian had always relied on her for things, like a child and parent did, but now Holly was the shoulder for when Vivian had doubts and fears and didn't know how to express them. Because if there was one was thing Gail was absolute shit at, it was actually dealing with her drama in front of people. Even at the family therapist appointments, Gail was reserved. The times Gail had let Vivian see tears were few.
Holly wore her heart on her sleeve a little more, and somehow Vivian grew to want that ability as well. How did a person feel so much and not let it wreck her? How did Holly handle people she loved being in danger? Holly was, simply, a safe person to break down in front of.
Sighing, Holly wiped her damp eyes and texted Janet to invite her over for meals while John was out.
Holly had her role to play in their extended family. She was the genius and she was the other half of the heart. She cared and loved and supported and let go. And she could more easily see past her own pain to shoulder that of others. Which meant she needed to help Janet understand the life she was getting into, loving John and marrying him.
It was hard, but Holly wouldn't trade her life in for anyone else's.
It was incredibly hard. The tower climb was the best part, Vivian felt. She'd scaled if many times before in kit and not. This was the first time she'd done it with her new bomb-defusing kit, though, and it was harder than expected.
"Come on, Peck. Your ass is dragging."
"Fuck off," muttered Vivian, shouldering the camera controls. Then she thumbed her radio. "Peck. Rover is in place. Window breach commencing."
The robot whirred and scaled the wall, hitting the window carefully. One handed, Vivian tapped the command in and watched Rover attempt to open the window. Sweat dripped down her spine. She was paying more attention to the tiny video in her HUD, carefully navigating the process of cutting into a window.
Which was why she slipped on the rope a little. It really was only a small slip, not even a foot. And she was sweaty, which had nothing to do with it. But it was her own fault. She'd not locked in her ascender properly. Again. That was the real issue. Vivian had screwed it up before.
"Fuck," muttered Vivian.
"Keep on," said Sabrina, her voice low. "Are you in?"
Was she? Vivian checked the HUD. "Yeah. Yes." She thumbed her radio. "Peck. I'm in. Transmitting now." Her part done, Vivian braced herself on the exterior and waited for the rapid entry team to burst in.
"Get that tighter," hissed Duane, jerking his chin as he joined her and Sabrina. "Seriously."
"Fuck off." Vivian did tighten her ascender though. "Locking in and releasing Rover isn't easy." She'd been practicing, but it wasn't second nature. Yet. Which was why Sabrina was her baby sitter, and hooked into her rope. If Vivian fell, she was expected to recover before fucking up Sabrina's run.
So far that had mostly worked.
"Blue Team, go." Their ear buds all spoke up. "Repeat, Blue Team. The scene is hot."
Hot and Blue Team meant unfriendlies and a possibly bomb. Or a trip wire. Vivian studied Rover's output. "Peck. Eyes on." This part she was great at. Never mind that she was roped up a hundred feet off the ground, Vivian was boss at Rover. Everyone knew it, that was why she was allowed to be on the first team.
Ignoring the nagging doubt of her slight fuckup, Vivian turned Rover to follow the Rapid Entry Team and spotted the problem.
"What the hell is that?" Her earpiece squawked at her. No. At everyone. It was Ivan. "Is it a booby trap?"
"Negative." Vivian heard herself speak and was a little surprised at herself. "Garden variety surveillance cams, but UnSub hooked into them... Monty, what do the bandwaves look like?"
There was a pause and then a laugh. "Nice. He's using wifi to watch us. Peck, can you give him a show?"
"Whaddya think this is? Oceans 11?" But she hooked Rover into the hardwired system and set up a loop. In doing so, she ran a diagnostic on the system, out of habit, and blinked. "Uh, we gotta live one." The video had streamed past, Vivian barely paying attention, and she saw the work that went into the actual trap. "He's after something. Check out this."
Everyone on her squad watched the video she played back. Sabrina grunted. "Well fuck. He set up a time delay on the safe. Peck, can Rover disarm that?"
"Maybe." Vivian sucked her lower lip and carefully eased Rover into the spot.
A new voice cut in. Sue. "Peck. Hands on. I don't want you dangling while you disarm a fucking bomb."
No bets on maybes. Vivian nodded. "Copy. Peck ascending."
Someone laughed.
Vivian tucked her controller away, leaving Rover in diagnostic mode to study the safe, and she quickly climbed the story to the window and let herself in. She didn't have on her full bomb kit. That shit was not something she could climb in. But Vivian did take the time to pull her extra collar up and gloves off.
A bomb in a safe.
Studying the charge, she knew that the training exercise would include glitter or noise. Either way, it was enough to amp up her nerves. The rules were to treat every bomb, real or fake, as real. Even a dummy bomb could kill if the tech screwed up. If she screwed up. Closing her eyes, Vivian stopped listening to anything except her breathing.
Once, Gail explained that she liked cooking because it shut up the nagging voice of doubt in her mind. Vivian found that the same happened when disarming bombs or doing any sort of weird tech procedure. Except... only when adrenaline was involved. Lara had not been wrong calling Vivian an adrenaline junkie.
Holly had commented that Vivian probably had some form of ADD or other chemical tweak that caused her to process things differently. Adrenaline was never supposed to calm. But as a child, Vivian learned that she would fell better after doing something that gave her a rush. She would feel a ripple, down her spine and extending out to her fingers, of pure, unadulterated calm.
Like steam, her stress and anxiety would vanish. Her doubts drifted away in the pulse of her blood, and she was calm.
Thank god her moms took her to 'safe' dangerous activities. Rock climbing, extreme distance running, the Ninja Shit (thank you, Gail), sports that let Vivian compete against girls half-again her size. As much as Gail hated exercise, she never failed to cheer and support Vivian and her activities. As much as Holly hated being intentionally at-risk, she went bungee jumping and skiing and rock climbing without a complaint.
When Vivian got older, she realized it was a little bit like sex. The post orgasm rush that turned the world off and ... well. That didn't happen all the time with sex. Not even with Jamie, with whom Vivian felt very compatible. They didn't have sex as often as her mothers did, though Elaine once commented, very caustically, that she'd never met a couple who was quite as overtly sexual as Gail and Holly.
Gail had just laughed. It was probably all that pent up repression of feeling, of love, manifesting itself. Vivian kept that thought to herself. At least her own issues were around trusting herself more than others. And for all she knew, maybe she actually did have sex as much as her parents. She'd have to compare notes with Gail later.
Now, however. Now was bomb time. And as the rush coursed though her, Vivian felt that calm raced behind it. Her heartbeat sped up and then slowed with her breathing. She heard nothing at all and saw only the wires and the design.
Interesting.
The UnSub set charges in a way to cause minimal damage to the safe and its contents. He wanted what was inside. So did she, then. Vivian carefully traced the wires and followed their logic. Bombs always made sense. Schematics did too. It was a puzzle and she was great at them. Slowly, carefully, she found the wire and cut it.
Pause.
A heartbeat. Another. And then sound returned to the world. "Peck. Bomb safe," she said to her radio, removing the explosive and putting it in her bomb bag. "Repeat. Bomb safe. Any chance of getting a bomb box up here?"
"When it's clear," said Duane, and he sounded dumbfounded. Like Vivian was an idiot.
Why would he— Gunfire rang out. Oh. Interesting. Vivian glanced up at Sabrina, her babysitter, who rolled her eyes. "Keep your head down, Peck," ordered Sabrina, her gun raised but safe.
"Copy." Vivian didn't even have a rifle. She had her personal sidearm, but with everyone else armed and ready, she just kept a hand on it for now. As much as she'd insisted she had the safe ETF job, the truth was Vivian did run into buildings with crazed lunatics, usually heavily armed, and did so with the least amount of protection. Depending on how her team mates were counted.
It was only a few moments more before the all clear was given, the bomb box came up, and Vivian carefully put her items inside. Done. They cleared the scene and lined up outside their Tower of Terror (really?) and waited, sweating in the sun.
"Nearly perfect marks," said the man running their evaluation. An Inspector, Bryce, who, Vivian had quickly learned weeks before, was the reason she'd not been first pick. He did not, as it happened, like Pecks. "Except for one." His eyes landed on Vivian.
It didn't matter that she'd sorted the electrical system and disabled the bomb. It didn't matter that Vivian had done it fast and safe and smart. No. The one thing that mattered was that she'd slipped. "Sir," she said, firmly but not loudly.
"Third time." The Inspector was firm and loud. Angry. "Do you understand people's lives are at risk, Peck?"
The way he said her name, the name she'd taken, was galling. He spat the name out, bitter and foul, and Vivian wanted to hit him. But she was a student of Elaine Peck. She knew that being a Peck meant she had to be better than everyone else, and that meant she had to swallow it sometimes. This was the time. Vivian couldn't rise to the bait or lash out. She inhaled and replied, still evenly and calmly, "Sir, I do."
That gave the Inspector pause. "The life of my men and women are on the line here, Peck," he said softly. It was the dangerous soft. "Your slipshod work ethic, coasting on candy coattails that aren't even yours, that shit stops. You put as much care into your work here as you do keeping that stolen name, and maybe, just maybe, you'll belong here."
As the words caught the wind, the area went quiet. Everyone heard that. There was a little murmur from the back, probably Duane or Ivan, but no one spoke up. For her own part, Vivian felt her face turn red. Fuck him. Fuck his words. She earned the name Peck. No one gave her anything. She took the name and everything that came with it.
Elaine had warned her it would be like this.
Vivian took another deep breath. "Yes, sir."
It was not what she wanted to say. She wanted to lash out like Gail did. But here... here she had to be Holly's daughter. The woman who saw disaster, pain, and trauma, recognized it, and didn't let it consume her. This wasn't her pain. This was his. Vivian could see that much clearly. He was lashing out because she was the safe target.
So she let it go. She let him shout at her name, her skills, her failures, and kept her face as impassive as Elaine Peck would. She held back her temper like Holly Stewart would. She envisioned his death in myriad, painful ways, and pretended to say everything that Gail Peck would.
But she did not crack.
"Bryce," said Lt. Tran, her voice cracking like a whip and silencing the field. "That's enough."
Bryce snarled. "This is my training routine—"
"Bryce." Now Sue's voice was quieter. "This is my department."
Technically, no one else in the department wore the rank of lieutenant, save the water crews. There they had the nautical rates and ranks, as one might expect. On land, Sue Tran was the only police officer bearing the rank and insignia, and Vivian had never really been clear on why, save that it was tradition.
What Vivian was even less clear on was if Sue outranked Bryce. Was Inspector above or below Lieutenant? Captain came above, but there wasn't an ETF captain. It was all so very odd, and probably had to do with how ETF used to be part of the Fire Department.
Still. Sue and Bryce stared at each other in silence. Finally Bryce broke and stomped off. "This will affect my grading!"
Sue rolled her eyes. "Blowhard. Okay kids, you passed. We'll talk about the details later. Dismissed."
Thank god. Vivian exhaled, feeling the tension start to ease out of her. "Damn it," she muttered as they got into the women's locker room. "What happens if we fail and it's my fault?"
Sabrina and the other women eyed her. "First off, you slipped. You recovered. It's barely worth a warning," Sabrina said firmly.
"Second time." Vivian sat down on the bench, heavily. The third Bryant mentioned happened when someone else slipped first and collided with her. It didn't count.
"Fourth if we count your trials," said Mel, who was on the gun side of things, helpfully. "You messed up twice there."
Scowling, Sabrina pointed at Mel. "Shut up. Not helping. And second, you won't be the first. Jake fucked up and dropped his rifle four years ago."
"Oh and Bobby dropped a fucking live grenade!" That was someone in the showers.
"You didn't tie your boot on enough!"
The women went on to point out the number of people who had fucked up in trainings, and wasn't that the point of practice anyway? It was enough to make Vivian feel like life was going okay.
And Sue was waiting for her as she left the locker room. "Quick word, Peck," said Sue softly, gesturing for Vivian to follow her. "Bryant's an asshole, but he has it out for you. Nothing I can do to stop that. It's your name and that's it." Sue sighed. "But."
It really was too much to hope she wasn't going to get out of this without a serious scolding. "I know," Vivian replied. She tried to keep her voice from betraying her lack of self-confidence in the moment.
"I know you know. And I know Jules dropped a lot of stress on you, with making you point for Rover your first month out. And now Safary." Sue canted her head to the side. "I'm pulling you off Rover."
What!? Vivian gaped and felt panic and bile rise. "What! No! I— I slipped, not even a foot, and I—"
Sue cut her off. "Calm down, it's not for the rope." Before Vivian could ask, the senior officer went on. "It'll buy me time to sort out what to do with Bryce for one, but also your fucking genius with the bomb means we need you working with Arson." Sue tapped her index finger on Vivian's sternum. Hard. "It's not punishment. Well. Except for the part where you have to work with Inspector Peck."
Her heart lightened a little. "But I'm ... I'm off the line." She would be back to second string. And, yes, technically that's where Vivian should be, she knew it.
"Yeah, and any time you're not working on Safary, your ass is on the ropes. I know you know how to climb. Practice that ascender lock until your hands bleed. Understand?"
Vivian nodded fervently. "I understand."
"Good. Go home. Tomorrow you're in your blues and working for Arson, kid."
She watched Sue leave.
On the one hand, she wasn't in trouble. On the other, there was no way being put on the bench was anything but a side-handed punishment. Vivian had screwed up on the ropes, twice, and she was ETF's greenest rookie, and she was a Peck. Sometimes she had to take the hits.
It didn't meant she liked it.
Dragging her feet into the apartment, Vivian dropped her bags by the hall and walked straight to the couch, toppling onto it face first.
"You look beat."
Vivian did not pick her head up from the couch. "Got yelled at."
"Poor baby." Jamie sat down on the backs of Vivian's thighs. "What happened?"
As she inhaled to explain, Vivian caught a whiff of something familiar. Smoke. "Did you pass your physical?"
Her girlfriend snorted. "Not for field work. So we both had a banner day."
"Feeling okay? Physically I mean."
Jamie rapped her knuckles on Vivian's head. "Hey. Dumb ass. What happened?"
Ugh. "I slipped on the rope."
The weight on her legs vanished. "You'll get better at it." Jamie slapped her butt. "Christian home yet?"
"No." Vivian sighed and rolled over. "Is that code for sex?"
"No. Code for adults who need to make dinner."
Adulthood sucked. "I'd rather have sex."
Jamie snorted a laugh. "And you called your mom horndogs."
"They are. You spent five days in the cottage with them, and they got it on a dozen times. Like when we went sailing."
"Uh, we had sex then too, smart ass."
"And when we left. And the storm. And the couch the afternoon before that. And when we went to town. And—"
"Woah! Okay, okay, your parents are fucking randy ..." Jamie made a face. "Seriously? Are they always screwing?"
Vivian smiled and sat up. "More or less." She sighed. "Okay. Dinner. We have chicken, a roast, and ... how hungry are you?" Getting up off the couch, Vivian scratched her head as she went to the kitchen.
Her girlfriend looked in the fridge. "Is that a time or a quantity question?"
"Time. Roast will be a couple hours. Chicken half that. I don't worry about amount." Leftovers had ceased to be an issue since Jamie moved in. Two cops and a firefighter ate a lot.
"Roast." Jamie nodded firmly and gestured. "Roast, and then sex. Because I want to celebrate going back to real work tomorrow."
Real work? "I thought you said you didn't pass the check!"
"I didn't. But Kelly needs a gopher. So I get to fast track some of that, which I've kind of always liked."
She couldn't help it. Vivian started to laugh.
It was always weird to hear her kid call her by her title.
"Inspector Peck! Hang on!"
"Okay, that's creepy." Nick muttered his agreement to the sentiment.
Gail rolled her eyes and raised a hand. "I should be used to it. Huh? What up, young Peck?"
Vivian grinned. "Does that mean I can call you old Peck?" When Gail glared, Vivian laughed. "Can I catch a ride with you? To the arson?"
"Oh! So Sue tagged you for it?"
"Yeah, she needs to keep me out of Bryce's hair." Vivian rolled her eyes. "He doesn't like Pecks."
The name Bryce was familiar. "Why do I know him..."
Nick snapped his fingers. "He tried to buy you a drink at the Penny when you were a uniform. Remember? And I got pissed off because we were dating. Kind of. Before—" The man she almost married cut himself off.
Oh right. "Before. Yeah. Forgot about that," admitted Gail. While she rarely forgot things, idiot men hitting on her from before Perik was certainly on the list. "Well. He'll get over it, or Sue will blow up his car on accident. Gonna wear a vest?"
Vivian shook her head. "I'm not on patrol. Unless you think the burnt out shell of a shit hole apartment is dangerous."
"Being shot's no fun."
"Hah," snarled Vivian. "Been there."
"Please, don't remind me. Come on, I'll drive." Gail waved at Nick and headed out to the car. "Feels funny to be seconded, doesn't it?"
"Weird as hell. I'm already not used to being in uniform." She tugged at her collar.
Gail laughed. "I feel that way every time they dress me up." They clambered into the car and Gail asked a follow up. "Seriously, though. Sue said you're good."
Her daughter made a face. "You make it look so easy, doing everything at once. And ... I can't."
"Yet," said Gail firmly. "You can do it, you just have to get used to it. Remember, you're a rookie here again. So while those smarts are kicking it, you've got to let your body catch up."
Vivian slumped in the seat. "I wish I'd known you as a rookie."
"Hm." Gail smiled. "I was a bitch. I was a brat. I was a child. And, trust me, kiddo, your Mom would have dumped me hard, if she'd even deign to date me, and if I had a fucking clue I was into girls." She shook her head. "Rookie me was far less successful as a human than you are. You... you're more like Traci. She was always our grownup."
Quiet for a moment, Vivian nodded. "Of all your class to compare me to, I'll take it. Seems like the best choice."
Gail reached over and punched Vivian's upper arm. "Bitch. Who raised you, huh?"
"Wolves," said Vivian, grinning gamely just like Gail.
It was always a trip to see the moments when Vivian looked and acted like them. She stood in a doorway like Gail and Steve. She smiled shyly like Holly and broadly like Gail. She laughed like Holly. She laughed like Gail. She was so much, in so many ways a reflection of who and what they were. And even though Vivian hadn't known Gail or Holly when they were young and foolish and reckless, the adult their daughter had become showed signs of both of them.
"Aroo." Gail mock-howled in the car, making Vivian laugh. "Do you know what song and dance Kelly has in store for us?"
"No. Jamie had no idea either."
"Oh hey, is she back at work then?"
"Mostly. They've got her on paperwork and safe stuff for a while. She didn't pass her fit check yesterday."
"Bummer. That's got to be driving her nuts."
Vivian shrugged. "She was close. They just want her to be healed up right before asking her to haul a guy three times her size out of a building."
Well. That was expected.
What was not expected was the smiling face of the petite Jamie McGann, greeting them at the site.
Working with her daughter was one thing. Working with daughter and daughter's girlfriend was another.
"Shit. I should just call Holly and be done with it."
Kelly eyed Gail. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Gail rolled her eyes and gestured at the younger set. "Those two are dating, Kelly." He startled. "Seriously, you shits? You were gonna play it cool?"
With an impish grin worthy of ... well ... worthy of Gail, Vivian shrugged. "It was more fun this way. Should we call Sgt. Simmons as well?"
"No, he and Holly are busy on another case." Gail almost dismissed it entirely, but then took pity on her kid. "He's in Ottawa making an arrest on the Haan case."
It took a moment but Vivian gaped. "Holy fuck... wait. John's making the arrest?"
Gail nodded. "They're bringing the Sub back tonight. Interviews tomorrow. But. Looks like the first real lead."
Her daughter sighed, sadly. "I don't like it. He's going to be fucked up, and the wedding thing is next month." Vivian turned to Jamie, "I'll explain later."
"Appreciated," said the firefighter. "So... Peck en masse is not normal?"
"Not since the early 2000s, no." Gail tsked and looked at Kelly. "Okay. So why are we here?"
Kelly shook his head. "Fucking circus act... okay. This is the only ruined Safary lair we have. We went back over the storage unit and didn't find anything at all that looked like sabotage or traps there. I came back to study the arson here and it's patterns."
Leaning towards her kid, Gail muttered. "He likes putting on a show."
"Didn't you say Safary tags his shit?" Kelly went on blithely.
"She," corrected Gail and Vivian as one.
Gail smirked. "And yes."
Kelly sighed. "Safary tags her shit. And we found this." He gestured and they all followed the direction to look at some pealing wallpaper. Safary Hunt.
"Well." Gail huffed. "You could've shown us a photo."
"The effect is bigger. Step back... three steps."
Gail and Vivian shared a doubtful look but stepped back. There were stains on the walls. There was graffiti. There was tagging. There was an A and a Y and a ... oh shit. Gail felt her eyes widen. "That was hidden?" She pointed at the hunt.
"Yeah," said Kelly.
"Jesus." Because there, in the shape of a gouge on the bannister and the broken light and a scribble was the word. Safary. Some of it you had to look at from a specific angle. "Viv, what was the thing you were telling me about 3D recognition software and penises on that LEGO game? Your term paper for frosh computer design?"
Her daughter took a moment. "Minecraft. LEGO said they'd given up because... Inspector, this is like twenty years ago!"
"The theory, please." Gail's reply was soft. She remembered the words, but had never ordered them together quite like this.
Vivian, doubtful, obliged. "The problem Minecraft had was people built penises out of everything. At first it was incredibly obvious, easy to spot. But as the detection algorithms got better, people got more inventive. They'd hide them where the software didn't look, make them visible from one angle. Multi-part penis art. LEGO claimed they weren't going to do a Minecraft competition product, but then the same day they explained how expensive penis-mitigation was, they announced LEGO Worlds. Which wasn't as fun as Minecraft, if you ask me."
Multi-part penis art. Gail smirked. "Tell me you see this?" She waved a hand at the room.
Silent, her technology loving child studied the room. "Oh. I do... and this." Digging into her pocket, Vivian pulled out her phone and tapped up pictures of the bomb. "She fucking signs her components the same damn way."
Gail and Kelly leaned over to look at Vivian's phone. Both swore. "How the hell do you build circuit boards like that!?" Kelly was astounded.
"It's not that hard." Vivian shrugged. "Microetching is harder, and you need a clean room, but this is just stacking pieces. Which Safary's good at, y'know."
"And hiding." Gail swore under her breath and looked away to collect her thoughts. Her eyes landed on the thus far silent member of the ground.
This had to be Jamie's first foray into the investigative side of things. Kelley could do a great deal worse than the girl. The woman. Jamie was smart, and while she'd not gone to a pretentious (prestigious) high school or graduated with a degree, she held her own against Holly at Trivial Pursuit. People like Jamie could see things.
Right then, Jamie was staring at the wall, curiously. When she noticed Gail looking at her, Jamie asked, "Does the tagging always look like that?"
"More or less." Looking up at the young firefighter, Gail wondered what Jamie saw. Any time anyone got such a distant, thoughtful look, they saw 'something.'
The younger woman nodded. "I'm hunting Safari... if it was with an I, I'd say it was that anti-hunter meme."
Gail stared at Jamie. "The what now?"
"It's a meme. Hang on." Jamie pulled her phone out and fired up an app. "You .. uh. You know what a meme is?"
Rolling her eyes, Gail replied. "Unlike my Internet hating spawn, I am familiar with the phenomena of mocking the world through pictures."
"Right." Jamie glanced at Vivian and then held her phone out to Gail.
It was a photo of a scrawny, underfed child with bloody hands and raw spots all over his face. The text on the top said "Finkle's Pharmaceuticals Tests on Children." The bottom read "Safari Hunt!"
Blinking, Gail read it a few times. "Does this happen for ... This happens for companies who mistreat employees and lie and cheat and steal." She didn't ask. No no. Gail knew.
Jamie nodded. "Pretty much. There was a whole viral thing about a corrupt camp for at risk kids. Ended up on the news and the Territory took over."
"Oh hey, I remember that," said Kelly. "Camp Wanamaker. They were seriously skimming funds and starving the kids."
But no bomb. "Jamie... Officer McGann." The change in name caused Jamie to startle. "Do you remember any of the memes? Specifics?" Gail pitched her voice as calm and casual as she could. This was just another, normal, day. Right?
When Jamie balked, Vivian spoke up. "Circuses. Zoos. Human trafficking."
A lightbulb went off in Jamie's eyes. "Oh hey, the zoo! There was a whole month where it was, just like, all about the zoo! This was ... god, two years ago?"
Gail and Vivian shared a look. "Familiar, huh, kid?"
"Safary's got a signature style," agreed Vivian. "But how the hell are you gonna track that?"
Grinning ear to ear, Gail pulled out her phone. "Remember the rental scams I told you about?" As Vivian nodded, Gail dialed her office. "We already have a bunch of IP addresses and data patterns. All I have to do is match 'em up and we, my friends, are sitting clover."
In reality it wasn't going to be that easy, but now they had a serious lead.
"He wants to see me?" Holly frowned.
"He wants to see the genius who figured this out, which ... Well. That's you." John shrugged. "I don't ... If you were Gail, you'd go flaunt your superiority at him."
Holly smiled a little and glanced over at Marcel, who was kindly pretending not to listen. "That's Gail. I'm... I don't do interrogations."
Waving his hand, John clearly nixed that. "It's not that. He wants to see who bested his family."
Both of Holly's eyebrows shot up. "Family? Then it really is a ..."
"Not that kind of family. Like me and Gail and Dov."
Oh. The brotherhood of police. Alright. "Is he giving us anything?"
John nodded. "He told us his successors. Plural. But he killed one. You were right about that guy, Talbot. Apparently they have very high standards and limits. He's hesitating over the full history."
And just like that, Holly understood. "You think I'll convince him to talk by explaining how I reverse engineered his bones?"
Both men nodded.
Fuck.
"I see." Holly frowned and looked down. She knew Gail would do it. But she wasn't Gail. "Will one of you be there?"
"And an armed uniform. And he'll be chained to the table."
Holly shook her head. "No. No armed uniform. Just... just you and me, John." Maybe she'd lived too many years with Gail, but she knew in her heart that too many people would make Siegel not talk. He wanted to know who beat him, not be humiliated.
The detective nodded. "Okay. Are ... are you sure? You don't have to do this, Holly. We can make it work without you."
She sighed. "But you think it'll work better with me."
"Well. Yes."
Nodding, Holly waved a hand. "It's been over a hundred years, John. If catching this ... If catching this band of brothers means I help in interrogation, I'll do it. When?"
Marcel exhaled. It sounded like he'd been holding his breath a long time. "Today. If you could, please." While Marcel was always polite, this was the first time Holly had noticed him ever speaking solely English. He was serious.
"Fine. This afternoon?"
"Three. We have to bring him over from lockup."
Holly nodded again. "Three. Okay. Good. That means..." she looked at her desk. That gave her the time to finish up her work and distribute everything she couldn't work on today. She would need to shuffle a lot of things off her plate. No doubt her emotional state after would be shit.
The door to her office opened. "Excuse me, Doctor. You have an autopsy overview in an hour. And a meeting with the review board."
Holly stared at Ruth for a moment. "Right. I do. Ruth. Can you clear my schedule after the autopsy? There's... There's been an arrest in the Haan case."
Eyes wide, Ruth nodded. "I ... my god. Yes, of course." The secretary looked at John. "Sgt. Simmons, how about you give me the run down." She ushered John and Marcel out, leaving Holly alone in her office.
God. Ruth did understand what she needed, on a professional basis. Holly pushed her hair back and tried to process how she felt about the whole thing. The case was one she was passionate about, but Holly had never sat in an interrogation. The closest she'd come to that was watching her wife, and Gail had learned the techniques at her parents' knees... oh.
Picking up her phone, Holly called her mother in law.
"Hello, dear. Is everything alright?"
"Teach me how to handle interrogation. I have an hour until an autopsy."
Elaine was quiet for a while. "Well. That's a challenge. How long will the autopsy take and when's interrogation?"
"I'm overviewing one of my newer employees. Maybe two hours. And three PM."
"Hmm." Elaine sounded like Gail did when thinking deeply. Or Gail sounded like Elaine. Same thing, really. "That gives us not much time. Whom are you interrogating and why?"
Holly hesitated. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone, especially not a non-officer. But Elaine... Gail still talked to her about things. "An arrest was made in the Haan case," she said simply. Either Elaine would know everything in that moment, or she would know nothing. And regardless, Holly hadn't leaked.
"Oh." The faint humor in Elaine's voice vanished. "Also the Mills case?"
How did she know? Now was not the time to wonder. "Yes," said Holly, simply.
"I see. Call me back when you're out of autopsy, I'll have a plan for you." And that was all efficiency Herr Peck. But this time, for the first time, Holly felt like the weapon that was Elaine Peck was entirely, 100% on her side.
This had been the right call.
Holly still felt that way, five hours later, when she walked into interrogation. Her wife nodded at her, looking serious and supportive, and held the door open, but Gail said nothing at all. That felt right. What could Gail say? Words of support and encouragement? No. Gail was right. She trusted Holly and that made Holly feel better about the whole thing.
With her head held high, Holly walked into the room with John.
Ronald Siegel was short. Even cuffed to the table, he was short. He wore prison orange, his hair was cropped short, his face covered in patchy stubble, but he already had a semi-defeated, sallow expression. He was medium build, not fat but not thin... he looked normal. Wasn't that how they all looked? Normal.
Had Perik looked like that?
Bad analogy/thought train.
Still. This man, this creature, killed many people. Callously and coldly, he murdered people. There was no reason or motive she was aware of, not that it was her job to know. Her job isolated her from beings like this. She never looked into the face of evil, and yet here and now, she looked at the man who was the heir of pain to the one who killed her friend's fiancé.
The criminal looked up at her and stared.
"You're kidding. This is the genius?"
Holly snorted. "This is the killer?" She pointed at Ronald and sat down. That was Elaine's first rule. Act better than them. Especially since Ronald had evaded the law for so long. She had to be superior. So Holly put her best Gail Peck sneer on.
It seemed to work. Ronald's head jerked back. "Jesus. Dog and pony show."
"Says the man caught by it." Holly smiled.
Ronald blinked. "How did you catch me?"
Second rule, tell them the truth. Just not all of it. "The bones."
He stared. "The... bones. But we..."
"You stashed them with other bodies? You swapped them when they broke? You traded up? Yeah. Funny thing." Holly smiled and went to Rule Three. Tell a story. She leaned forward and told him about Bethany Mills. How he'd tried to kill someone else, how Bethany had stumbled upon them and saved the man but died for it. "But there's something you didn't know," she noted. "You didn't know about one of them having a degenerative bone disease."
A hit. Ronald stared at Holly. "Disease?"
"That's why her bone broke when you tried to remove it." Holly leaned back. Rule Four. Give them a bone. As it were. "What impressed me was that you were so fast and, generally, good at removing the bones. That's fine work, even for a butcher who's trained it can take hours." She shook her head. "Well. Some of you are better than others, I supposed. Mr. Haan was better at larger animals than ... Well, than you, for example."
Ronald looked ill. "Herman and his damn horses," he muttered. "How did you find him?"
"A lime green 'Cuda. Threw me off. Wasn't your pattern. No, that was someone else's. A man, taller than you." Holly held Rule Five to her heart (break him back down — emasculate him) and flicked a glance at Ronald's arms. "Stronger than you."
That scored a hit and Ronald bristled. "I was strong."
"You like scooters though." Rule Six, throw a lie out there. Or an intentional wrong.
Silent, Ronald stared at her. "It was a Miata."
Holly grinned. "It was." Now to move on. "You thought you were clever. Different men and women, no real target of people, just the situation. Different weapons. But that was how you were stupid. Your anti-pattern showed itself." She turned and looked at John and enacted Rule Seven. Bored now. "Am I done?"
John shrugged. He seemed to be either used to these Peck rules or he was good at rolling with the punches. "We have enough to know who to go after next. A nice deep dive into Mr. Siegel's life and we have our next steps." John listed a couple names, not ones Holly recognized, but that wasn't weird.
"Alright then." She stood up. Rule Eight was leave early. Or pretend to. Still, she was was startled when Ronald blurted a question.
"How... I know how you figured out the bones, but. But how did you figure out which bones?"
Rule Nine. Demonstrate the unwavering reality of genius. "Do you like baseball? I do. Drives my family nuts, but what can you do?" Holly shrugged in the face of Ronald's confusion. "Baseball players have these rituals, habits, to do the same thing every time in order to recreate their optimal scenario. They tap the bat to the base, they take practice swings, they count with their fingers. Habits. Same as you." Ronald opened his mouth, but Holly went on. "It was the skull impressions. It really wasn't that hard. Once we had some samples of injuries, we were able to generate the shape of the weapon. Because you hit people the same way, nearly every time. And once we had that, I recreated the bones." She smiled and walked to the door, knocking on it. Time to do it, to walk away for real. "Goodbye, Ronald."
A surprised door guard (Goff, the one Gail didn't like) watched her leave and Holly went directly to the viewing room. Her wife was standing there, two mugs of something on the table.
"Hey," said Holly.
"Hey," said Gail quietly.
"Hey." Holly smiled, feeling her bravado falter at last. And that was Rule Ten. It was okay to fall apart later. This was later, right?
Gail seemed to think so, stepping up and wrapping her arms around Holly. God those hugs felt safe. Holly breathed deeply, inhaling the strength of her wife. "You said that already," said Gail, softer and quieter.
"Sounded familiar." They both smothered a laugh. "How do you do that all the time?"
"Practice." Gail rubbed Holly's upper back. "You did real good, Holly."
"I don't want to do that ever again." Holly shuddered, a full body shake, and Gail squeezed her close. "He ... he oozed evil."
"Hmm. They do that." Letting go, Gail held Holly at arms length. "You talked to Elaine, huh?"
That surprised Holly. "You didn't know? I thought..." She stopped. What did she think.
"I didn't know." Gail squeezed her shoulders. "Have some tea, okay?"
Tea sounded great. Holly picked up the mug, a MOM mug that Gail kept in her office, just for Holly's visits, and inhaled. Strong and sweet. Holly sipped it and was relieved to find it not super hot. "What's he doing now?"
"Nothing. He's staring at John."
Holly frowned and looked in. John was silent and still. Ronald was fidgeting. "He looks ... He looks scared."
"He is." Gail sipped her own tea and then eyed Holly. "You hit him hard, y'know."
"I did?" Holly frowned more. "I don't feel like I did."
"Yeah, you never do at the time." Gail shrugged. "Ah, here we go. Watch, he'll start talking in a minute."
And to Holly's surprise, he did.
"If I tell you... if I tell you, what happens to me?"
Slowly, John tilted his head. They could only see the back of the sergeant's head, no bald spots and only a few white hairs. "Depends on what you tell us."
"I'm still going to jail, huh?"
"We have evidence you killed four men, including Heinrich Haan, Ronald. That last one might get you time lessened, but it's murder."
Ronald looked at his own hands. "We all kill."
The way he said it made Holly stiffen. Gail gently patted her shoulder. "It's okay," said Gail quietly.
"And you all die. Except you, Ronald." John leaned back. "You hid your name, layers and layers of false identities. Moved a hundred times. You were trying to ... to what? Get away?"
And Ronald nodded. "When you slip up, you die. That's ... That's why I killed Heinrich. He let that guy go. Took the wrong one. Broke her leg too..."
To his credit, and to Holly's awe, John didn't react to that. To the fact that the woman John had loved was the 'wrong' one. All John did was ask a simple question. "And you?"
Ronald looked at the glass. It gave Holly a start. She knew he couldn't see her, but still. "She watching?"
"Huh? The Doc?" John glanced at the glass, sparing a wink to the room. "Nah. She has other cases to work on. I'll probably get an earful about wasting her time and the lab's money."
"She's important...?"
"Yes." John tilted his head, his shoulders saying 'curious' while his relaxed posture saying 'bored.' "Doc there is the smartest medical examiner we've had in a hundred years. She's written papers of international renown. Even if you give me nothing, she's given me everything. I'll have your cronies in jail, from Newfoundland to the Yukon. Including the one who skipped out to Mexico. He's on a plane already."
Holly blinked. "Mexico?"
Gail nodded. "Yeah, Marcel's minions tracked him down. The one who used the half sized bone?"
Holly oooohed. The weapon she recognized. "Wow. But the DNA was a wash!"
"Hilariously, once they suspected Mexico, they checked the border crossings and found a guy who got bit by a dog in Texas. He hopped the border to avoid paying an ER bill."
"Well." Holly smiled. "Hospital bills in the States were pretty bad in the 2020s."
"No kidding." Gail grinned. "It looks like we're on to the answers of who, if not why."
Exhaling loudly, Holly shook her head. "I wish I could say I don't care about the why, but I really do. I don't know if I'll ever get over not knowing why a group of people did this for so long."
Her wife was quiet for a while. "I think it's why people climb mountains. Or dance. Or do anything risky. There's a rush. A flash of power, of awe that you did something daring and chancy. The first time I tackled a perp. It's overwhelming. And they were paying me to do this stuff." Gail inhaled. "These guys, these assholes, they got away with murder. They killed and killed and hid it well, leaving clues and still getting away with it and... it's a high. So they keep doing it."
"Escalation."
"Reward and repeat. They level up, like in video games, y'know?" With a shrug, Gail finished her tea. "Ah... John's got him now. Look at his face."
Holly had lost the thread of the interrogation. How had Gail kept following it? Well, it was Gail's job. Holly could follow science. She turned to the window and watched John get up. Was he leaving?
"Wait!" Ronald jerked against the cuffs holding him to the table. "Wait. Please!"
"Why?" John paused at the door. "What could you possible tell me that I don't already know?"
Ronald looked at the window. A mirror on his end. But everyone knew that it was a one way mirror. "Heinrich... he wasn't the first. I mean, he was the one who organized us. But he learned in the old country."
Holly's stomach hit the floor. Old country. This was even deeper?
"Austria? We know. His father was hung for killing a man."
"With a bone." Ronald swallowed. "That's where. We knew. We all know, you cover it up. You use the world, what the world does, to hide what you do."
Abruptly, Gail swore. "Fuck, the wars!" Gail pounded a fist on the table. "Damn, that's it. Wars and influenza! Holly, that's where those assholes hid." Before Holly could agree, Gail ranted on. "Son of a bitch. They picked cars not because they like them, but because they're common!"
Holly stared for a moment. "Common?"
"Yeah! Think about it. People dead by cars isn't a shock. Car accidents. Didn't you say there were a handful of people dead by car accidents that didn't make sense?"
"Yes," confirmed Holly. "That was the 1970s runs."
"Before seat belt laws." Gail grimaced. "Fuck. John'll have to pull up stats on the most common deaths... I bet these will all slip in." Running her hands through her hair, Gail sighed explosively. "What a fucking nightmare."
And none of it would involve Holly. "Poor John," she muttered under her breath. "He'll love it."
There was a short pause and Gail coughed a laugh. She had to know Holly was right. John would love digging into history and stories and mysteries of the oldest, coldest case ever to land in OC.
As Jamie unlocked the door to the apartment, she was still gushing. "That was incredible! You should totally compete and do the show!"
"Not gonna happen," said Vivian for the tenth or million and tenth time.
For part of rehab therapy, Jamie was at the gym. Since the owner of Ninjymnastics was a certified physical therapist, getting Jamie in was easy. It just meant Jamie saw Vivian run the entire first stage course at the gym. From the stepping stones to the log roll to the curtain swing, even the jumping spider, Vivian ran through the (smaller) version of the real course with mostly ease. She had a little trouble on the new uneven rolling balls and face planted on the mat, but she did make it across.
Then, since she'd had time, she practiced her upper arm strength on bungee road and the obscene cliffhanger. Which was when Jamie showed up to watch. The few times Jamie had come to the gym before, Vivian stayed with her on the beginner moves, showing her how to do the balance and parkour-esque obstacles, versus the strength ones.
Not that Jamie wasn't incredibly strong. The focused, flexible power needed for the Ninja Warrior stuff was wildly different than the kind needed for firefighting. Stability and brute force was the name of the firefighting game. They'd done a little rock climbing to work on grip strength, but not the sort of thing Vivian did regularly.
"Spoilsport. You could be Canada's first American Ninja Warrior."
"First off," said Vivian, patiently, "I'd be the fourth. And the second Canadian woman. Second. No. I'm not going on TV."
"At least I know why your fingers are so damn tough," teased Jamie and she walked inside. "Oh. Viv... there is a strange and yet familiar child on our couch."
Looking over Jamie's head, Vivian smiled. "Chris!"
Chris Epstein, just eighteen, was perched on the edge of the couch. As soon as Vivian and Jamie walked in, Chris popped to their feet. "Christian let me in. He said... um. It was okay?"
"Always okay, Chris," said Vivian. "We are super smelly though."
"Not like you hug," said Chris with a faint, thin smile. Then Chris looked at Jamie. "Hi, you must be Jamie?"
Rolling her eyes, Jamie stepped in and gave Chris a hug, much to their surprise. "Viv told me you came out to your folks, you get hugs. Nice to meet you."
Chris flushed and returned the hug. They were not very tall, though that made sense. While Dov was a bit taller than Gail, Chloe was a tiny thing. As a baby, Chris had been tiny which had astounded Vivian. Were babies always that tiny? Holly had assured her that they were, and a few months later when Jerry was born, Vivian determined her mother was correct. Everyone started out that small.
After Vivian went to university, she'd not spent as much time with Chris. Well. Babysitting and driving around wasn't really spending time. They were seven years apart, more or less, and Chris was always a little kid in Vivian's mind.
But. They were, all of them, the family of Fifteen. That was just how it worked. Maybe, in some alternate universe, Andy and Gail would have grown up as casual friends. Okay not friends, but Vivian got the impression Gail hadn't even known about Andy until they were teens, and even then avoided her. Which really made sense. Tommy McNally was a bit of a class A fuckup.
She and Chris, though, Vivian and Chris had less of an age gap than Vivian did with Sophie. They had much the same relationship. Friendly enough, but not hang out friends. The fact that Vivian and Olivia had been as close as they were had much more to do with the fact that they went to the same schools from first grade on through high school than anything else. That was proven by how Vivian was still close to Matty, even after some years apart, but her relationship with Olivia was still awkward.
That and the sex. That really fucked up friendships, Vivian had to admit. Except in the case of Gail, who often enough ran into her exes and treated them exactly the same. Gail was unique.
"I like her hugs," Chris said as Jamie let go. "She has good hugs."
"She does," Vivian said, agreeing. "How long were you waiting for me, numbskull?" She reached over and ruffled Chris's hair.
"About an hour. Is that okay?" Chris was so earnest.
And something was up. For the kid to show up, seek her out, was weird. "I told you, yeah." When Chris didn't rise for the bait, though, Vivian had to push a direction. "I need some protein and carbs, Chris," Vivian announced. "You want to get fed?"
Chris nodded quickly. "I kinda told Mom I was eating with you already?" They looked sheepish.
"So long as I'm not covering for you going on a date with someone your folks hate." Vivian grinned. "Grab a stool."
Jamie rolled her eyes. "Oh so I'm your assistant?"
"Chris is a guest, you live here now." Vivian shoved Jamie's shoulder. "See what I put up with?"
Chris smiled shyly. "She deserves it, Jamie. Don't let her fool you. She took out a car with a homemade rocket."
Vivian pointed at Chris. "You weren't even there, you ass!"
"I saw the video!" Chris laughed broadly, looking and sounding like their mom.
"You're a shit." Vivian handed vegetables to Jamie. "And don't tell me you're a vegetarian, because I'm making pork stir fry."
"No." Smiling, Chris shook their head. "Do you guys have soda and can I have some?"
With the tone of one raised by Holly, Vivian corrected. "We do and you may. Fridge. Help yourself."
As Chris studied the drink options, Jamie leaned in and spoke softly. "What's going on?"
Vivian shrugged. "Dunno. Little Chris, what's the deal? Not that I mind you hanging out, but the last time you needed ol' Viv's advice, it was to flip on your friends for illegal drugs."
Jamie blinked. "What?"
"Chris got caught holding weed, which is barely illegal, but since the kids were all underage..." Vivian waved a hand. "I promised Dov it wasn't anything to worry about."
"Dov ... the ..." Jamie jiggled her head. "You can't just ask people that stuff, Vivian!"
But Chris laughed. "She does. She's really bad at people and hates trying to guess. That's why she's cool."
Vivian blinked. "I'm cool?" No one said that about her. Gail was cool. Vivian was weird and off beat.
"Yeah, for a grown up."
She rolled her eyes. "You're graduating high school soon. Time to grow up, yourself."
"Uh..." Chris stoped joking and looked down. "That's what I wanted to ask about," they mumbled.
"Change your mind about being a copper?" Vivian had heard, from Gail as well as Chloe, about the idea. And the non-binary. Which she'd already known from Chris years prior, and promised then to not tell anyone until Chris did.
But Chris not talking to Vivian about being a cop made sense. Those things were harder. It was so much easier to be who you were, and not the thing that was mutable. It was more common for people to have a hundred jobs in a lifetime. Hell, Leo had worked for seventeen companies already, sticking with none more than a year. On the other hand, Vivian and Chris came from a stock of people who found a calling and stuck with it for as long as possible. Even Jerry Shaw had fallen into that hole.
"No," said Chris. Their voice was firm and nervous at the same time. "Just... what's it like?"
Huh? Vivian looked across the counter at the young person. Being a cop was something Chris' parents could explain. But... What the hell did Vivian know that Dov and Chloe didn't? That any other officer didn't? She glanced at Jamie and the puzzle piece dropped into place.
Vivian was out. And more to the point, she had been out since she was a teenager, younger than Chris. By comparison, Chloe wasn't really out. Some people knew she was bi, but not everyone. And Gail was a law unto herself and didn't count no matter anyone looked at it. Holly wasn't a cop, and after that, her family, her cop family had a surprising dearth of queer police.
That wasn't actually true. Not fully. Most coppers of her grandparents' generation kept it to themselves. In Gail's, really only Gail and Frankie and Jen were here and queer. It was still something a little quieter. And then, for Vivian's generation, it was a non-event, for the most part. The problem was never going to be Chris' peers, it would always be the teachers and mentors and the old guard.
Vivian sighed. "It's not easy," she said to start with. "My classmate, Jenny? She's bi, and I think people give her less shit, but ... I'm a Peck. And that comes with a whole boat of headaches."
Chris nodded. "But... I meant it's not nothing, is it?"
"No, it's not." She paused, looking for the words. "Hey, McGann, what's it like being a gay firefighter?"
"As a woman? Stereotypical. For men... they still get a lot of shit." Jamie frowned. "I don't actually know any non-binary, but we do have a couple transgender out there."
"You also have one shower room," noted Vivian.
"And one sleeping room. For the grunts." Jamie shrugged. "The paramedics have a room, the caps have private rooms. You get used to sharing, though."
Chris' eyes were wide. "What about ... uh ... y'know. Guys?" Chris paused. "I mean, you hear about them, um, being uh..."
"Abusive," offered Jamie.
"You mean assault?" Vivian canted her head.
Chris nodded. "Yeah. Beating people up and ... that."
Vivian and Jamie shared a look. "It happens," said Vivian, simply. "Still. I'm not gonna lie, Chris. Some people are assholes, even cops. Especially cops." She eyed her girlfriend and popped an eyebrow.
"Same. Probably worse because we all sleep in one big room." The firefighter frowned. "It used to be a lot worse. But more women made it up the ranks. My captain's a woman, and a lesbian, but there are two more female fire chiefs in the city now, and they don't stand for shit. I've only been on three years, but so far the worst was a guy who offered to mentor me when I was new, and sent me dick pics and tried to get me to go out with him."
The story was new to Vivian. She smirked. "I'm afraid to ask what you did..."
"Printed the photos and the texts and put them up in the bathrooms." With a shrug, Jamie winked. "Cappy yelled at me about it and he got fired."
"See, that's stupid," said Vivian. "He could have retaliated. Crazy white guys are unpredictable when you turn 'em down."
"How did you know he was white," wondered Chris.
Vivian was dismissive. "They're always white. The most dangerous person out there is a cisgender heterosexual white male who thinks he's losing his privileges. Bonus points for being a Christian."
Jamie nodded, sagely. "Oh, you're right. I wouldn't do it now. But I was the only girl in my rookie class. I didn't really know what else to do. Some of the other women tell you things like, get used to it. Or it happens to everyone."
"Which it does." Vivian grumbled and tossed the food into a pan. "Some assholes in high school nearly killed Matty, beating him up. It's just... it's no different if you're in high school or college or on the force. Happens in offices."
Chris looked dejected. "So everywhere sucks?"
Both Vivian and Jamie nodded. "More or less, yeah," said Vivian. "But it gets better. Or easier. Or we get better... stronger. And we're not alone."
The kid sighed deeply and sucked down some more soda. "Will you... will you tell me what it's really like?" Chris looked hopefully at Vivian and then Jamie. "Both of you? Because ... All Dad says is it'll be hard, but he'll support me. And Mom... she got all weird."
"Is Chloe ever not weird?" Jamie smiled, trying to make a joke.
It worked. Chris grinned, shakily, but they grinned. "Oh good, you met her."
"She hugged me," said Jamie, and she scowled. "She hugs. She's very ..."
"Sound of Music," offered Vivian and Chris as one.
Vivian smiled. "I think Chloe's upset you don't confide in her, and she thinks it's her fault for being gone with work so much."
Chris looked stunned. "What? God! No, why are parents so dumb!?"
Vivian held back a laugh. "They're generally not prepared for the day we start acting like people. Especially when we don't act exactly how they do."
But they did talk to Chris, through dinner and into the night, about what it was really like. To be open about being queer, to have a job people didn't understand, and how to deal with how it felt to be different like that. In the end, Chris slept on the couch, with Vivian promising Chloe she'd drop them off in the morning.
All of that felt like it took longer than letting Chris work through all the drama.
"You're good at that, you know," said Jamie as Vivian finally hung up. "Chris and his mom."
"Really?" She eyed her girlfriend, already showered and in her pajamas.
"Yeah. I think you'd be a good parent."
Vivian snorted. "That better not be a prelude to a baby conversation. Because I have it on pretty good authority two women can't knock each other up."
Jamie laughed. She'd heard the story from Holly, about how young Vivian had gotten confused. "You handled this way better than Holly did sex, I think."
"Low bar." No doubt Gail would say Holly did sex just fine. Vivian threw her gear into the hamper. "Were you scared? Being a tiny tiny thing and a firefighter?"
"You mean because of the stories of how women get assaulted? Sure. Of course I was. I'm not stupid." The firefighter sighed. "But. I wanted this. I ... I don't know how to explain it. I needed to do this, to be ..." She paused. "Gail said it was to be a part of something bigger than yourself."
"Hah, she got that from Elaine, but yeah. I hear you." Vivian sighed and went to shower. When she came back, Jamie was still sitting up in bed, hugging her knees. "Okay, what cue did I miss?"
Jamie smiled softly. "Do you want kids?"
Oh. It was a prelude to the baby conversation. "I don't know." She sat down on the bed. "Hadn't really thought about it."
"Me neither." Jamie tilted her head. "Chris is making me think about how hard it has to be, to know your kid is gonna suffer."
"You sound like Holly."
"Yeah? I bet Gail wasn't surprised at all."
"Of course not. You've met her." They settled under the covers and turned off the lights. As she adjusted her pillow and kicked a leg out, Vivian ventured a thought. "If... if I have kids, I'd want to adopt."
Jamie didn't reply for a minute. "I'm okay with that." Then she snickered a laugh. "Wow that was low key."
In the dark, Vivian smiled. "Kinda was. I've never even had that conversation before."
"I have," said Jamie, darkly. "My high school boyfriend wanted three kids."
That was still weird. Technically Vivian knew Jamie identified as bisexual, but she'd rarely ever heard her talk about boyfriends. Even though she'd met one of the ex-boyfriends, Vivian didn't know much about them as a whole. "So." She slowly processed that sentence and its implications. Vivian could be super serious or she could play it Gail. It was late. She had to be Gail. "Two kids?"
Jamie giggled. "Oh we're negotiating?"
"Just not around Holly. She gets this weird Grandmother Vibe rocking." Vivian waved her hands. "I swear, she'll get all crazy eyes."
Stifling a laugh, Jamie rolled to her side and kissed Vivian's cheek. "I like your family. They're really close."
"Well they've been married forever."
"I mean all of them. Oliver, Dov, everyone. There's this huge family of cops and their families." The woman yawned and snuggled down into the bed. "Your moms surrounded you with all these awesome people who care, and you just pay it forward. You're good people, Peck."
"Not something I hear too often."
With another, bigger, more meaningful yawn, Jamie's weight shifted into one of sleep. "I'll remind you more often." And her breathing evened out, her body relaxed, and Jamie fell asleep.
Oh, how Vivian envied that ability to sleep right away. More so, she envied the simplicity with which Jamie often saw the world. And maybe, maybe she envied the directness Jamie had. That she, that Vivian, was a good person.
Maybe she was after all.
Vivian smiled at the world for a moment and then settled into bed to sleep.
Young Chris is fine, they just needed to talk to someone closer to their age and situation. A non parent.
