A bit of a notice. Given everything that's happening in the US right now (and protests spanning the globe), I want to address the very problematic nature of having a fic being PRO cop.

This universe for Rookie Blue is not the show's universe, and it's not ours either. While there have been allusions made to 'the mess in the states' around 2020, when I wrote this I could not possibly have foreseen how terrible things would be. There's no excuse for the mistreatment of BIPOC by the police. I am appalled and horrified and protesting for human rights, a fight that should have been over when I was young baby lesbian. That they're not, that we still have to shout that Black Lives Matter, is a condemnation on us as a whole.

We have failed.

And I am well aware that promoting a story, even this clearly fictional world where some of the cops are good people makes things worse.

For everyone who cannot stomach reading a fic about police right now, I stand with you. I hear you and I am with you. Had I not already finished this story, I might not be posting it. But I want to bring it to it's conclusion, so people can have closure here. That is the ONLY reason I'm going to finish it. Every other story about this world that involves the police is on hold until I can figure out what the hell to do.

If you're out there protesting and marching, wear a mask and keep as safe as you can.

06.03 - In Blue

High tech crimes have unexpected casualties, and Vivian has a blast from the past.


There were days that Holly did not love her life. They were rare, and oddly they all had to do with her wife.

Not to be misunderstood, Holly loved Gail with all her heart. She adored the woman, even the worst parts of her, and relished the time they were together. So so much of her life was better because of Gail.

But Gail had not been blessed with an easy life. Not a straightforward one either. In fact, so much of Gail's life cut at her heart, Holly had grown to hate and, sometimes, fear it.

And one of the things she feared was waking up Gail when she was having a bad dream.

Not that Gail had ever once hurt Holly, not even accidentally, when waking up. But it had scared the hell out of Holly the first time she saw Gail's nightmares. It scared her when they'd been dating. It scared her when Vivian, still just inches out of her own terror filled origin, had asked if Gail was okay. It scared her today.

Still. Her wife was, clearly, having a bad dream. Not night terrors level of bad dreams, thank goodness. Those were difficult to safely pull Gail out of. This seemed to be a normal bad dream. The fact that Holly could tell the difference was, alas, depressing.

She walked over to the couch, took a deep breath, and began.

"Gail, honey," said Holly softly.

Her wife tossed on the couch and shuddered.

Yeah, not a good day. But letting her sleep would be worse, and Holly knew it. Already Gail's face was flushed and her hair sticking to her forehead.

"Gail, wake up," she tried, and gently touched Gail's shoulder.

The blonde startled awake, sitting up nearly wild-eyed. "What?" Gail stared at Holly, sweat trickling down her face.

Holly sat on the coffee table and pressed the back of a hand to Gail's forehead. Gail was running a temperature. "You're sick, honey," she explained. "And I think your fever was giving you a nightmare."

Gail blinked and then grimaced, slumping back down in the couch. "My while body aches," she grumbled, and then started to tip over back to lying down.

Oh no. "Come on, honey. Shower, bed. I'm too old to carry you upstairs."

Predictably, Gail pouted. "Can't I sleep here?"

"Well. The shower is upstairs."

"Mmmrrrrph. Point." Gail grumbled and bemoaned and then got up. "Ugh. Why do I have to be sick?"

"It just happens sometimes, honey." Holly pointed out the obvious and followed Gail up the stairs. "Are you hungry?"

"No." Gail went right for the shower and Holly frowned.

An un-hungry Gail was a terrible sign. It tended to mean Gail was about to be exceptionally sick. Holly went back downstairs and texted John, asking him to see if he could fill in for Gail tomorrow. Sometimes Holly wished Gail had a normal job, where she could just call in sick and let people sort things out on their own. But the woman she'd fallen in love with was a cop. She had a duty and a dedication.

Holly did quite love that about Gail, but at the moment it was annoying. Her wife needed a few days of solid rest and sleep to heal, and instead she might get a night before she rolled back off to work.

At least she could feed Gail a little. The best tonight would be a protein shake. Her phone chimed as she started to shake the drink. John. Telling her he was pretty sure Gail got some tomatoes in her lunch.

Ah shit.

Plan change. Holly jogged up the stairs. "Gail, how's your stomach?"

"Unpleasant. And tell John to fuck off. I didn't eat a damn tomato."

Holly couldn't help but smirk. "Asshole."

Gail snorted and the shower turned off. "You're going to make me drink a nasty ass shake, aren't you?"

"And pop a Benadryl."

"Really?" Gail scowled.

"And pop a Benadryl, yes." She held out the protein drink. "I did not put the drinkable shit in here."

"Which renders it undrinkable. Ugh, fine." Gail made a face and took the drink, chugging half of it in one go. "Pill me, Dr. Strangefire."

Holly laughed softly and pulled out the pill box. "Isn't it Dr. Strangelove?"

"I went for the Indigo Girls reference."

"We, Gail Peck, are old." She held out two Benadryl pills.

Her wife grumbled. "I didn't eat tomatoes, Holly. I'd know."

"Yeah, the rash on your neck is arguing that, honey."

Gail blinked and turned to the mirror. She had to crane her neck, but indeed, there was a rash. It was faint and mild, but it was in the position Holly had come to associate to accidental ingestion. "Son of a ..." She took the pills and popped them, downing the rest of the shake. "I'm marking that new restaurant by the station as crap."

"What did you order?" There was a protracted silence. Holly snorted. "Bacon?"

"Fuck you. Bacon, turkey, avocado, on rye. With Swiss. I specifically said no tomatoes. Twice."

"Ten bucks says he put them on and then took 'em off. Just enough for a mild contamination. Which, when combined with the fact that your body was already fighting off a cold, made my baby sick."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "I really hate when you infantilize me."

With a smile, Holly kissed Gail's cheek. "You are seven years younger."

"Bite me." Gail rolled her eyes and tossed the empty shake container back at her wife. "The bennies are gonna knock me out."

"I know. That's why I made you drink the shake." She took the towel and dried off Gail's hair. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

"That usually sounds much more fun," lamented Gail, but she allowed herself to be hustled into something to sleep in, and then under the blankets.

By the time Holly had showered, Gail was already drifting off. The cop did not do well with drugs or sleep aids. If the earlier evening had been rough with the bad dreams, Holly knew tonight would only be worse.

She sighed and kissed Gail's forehead. She may hate the job that put her wife through hell, but she loved the woman that came through it.


"Boom Peck, your mom looks like hell."

Vivian eyed Traci as she pulled her shoe on, half wondering why Traci had seen Holly before Parade. "Gail ate tomatoes yesterday."

Thankfully that was all she needed to tell her aunt. "Oh hell. Gail had Benadryl, didn't she? I'll bring them dinner."

"That would be nice," said Vivian, grinning, and she pulled on her other shoe and tied the . "Anything else, or can I go on patrol now?"

Traci laughed. "It feels like just yesterday Gail was calling me when you were puking with the stomach flu."

"I was also seven." Vivian kicked her locker closed. "Which reminds me, how's Steve?"

"My emotional seven year old is doing better. He's found his groove again. And I think they figured out the medicine." Traci rocked back on her heels. "It makes me feel old."

Vivian settled her belt. "No offence, but you are old."

Traci glared at her. "You're horrible. You are your mother's daughter."

Laughing, Vivian walked out to pick up her radio for the day. "Which one? You know, it doesn't matter. It works both ways."

She heard Traci's spluttering laughter follow her. Vivian smirked. As it should be. But it was good Steve was doing better. After Holly's birthday, Gail had put her foot down and demanded he go to get some help for his anger issues. Thankfully Traci was in agreement and dragged Steve to the doctor.

Finding the right mix of medications that worked well with the ones he was already on for his apparently hereditary degenerative memory issues was hard. It made Vivian grateful that Gail didn't have it, and that Vivian was adopted. Which was incredibly uncharitable, yes, and something Holly would tsk at before admitted she was grateful as well.

It was always amusing to see people shocked when they realized Holly was as bad as Gail, and just hid it better. The converse was always true, too. Gail was as wonderful as Holly.

"Care to join us, Peck?" Nick buffeted her shoulder as he walked by.

"Parade is in five minutes, Collins."

"That's Road Sgt. Collins to you," joked Nick.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "You're just happy you don't have to lead Parade anymore, Boy Scout."

Clutching his chest, Nick gasped in faux pain. "You got me, Peck!"

She laughed and shoved him towards the door.

Everyone was happy for Nick's promotion. Especially Andy. Road Sergeant got the aging officer off the street, while keeping him in uniform and out of the positions he feared. Nick, like Gail, was pathologically afraid of the person he'd become if given too much power. For Gail to fear that made sense. Hello, Pecks. For Nick, it made less sense to Vivian. But everyone had their own demons.

Vivian walked into Parade and saw Traci sitting on the back, where Gail usually perched. With her phone out. What the hell.

"Okay everyone, settle down," said Duncan, and he promptly knocked over the podium up front.

The room erupted in laughter. "Please tell me you filmed that," Vivian hissed to Traci.

"And sending to Gail right now," replied her aunt. "I thought it would brighten her day."

"Hell, It did mine." Vivian smirked and took a seat in the middle rows, watching Nick help Duncan fix the podium.

Poor Duncan. He never passed the sergeant exam, and Elaine herself had told him to give up. Being in charge of Parade was likely Andy's guilt laden attempt to give him some responsibility. Sooner or later, it would be C or Jenny or, god help them all, Rich up there. Thankfully the rest of his Parade speech was normal, and Duncan managed to make it through without further embarrassment. "Assigns— assignments are on the board. Don't, um, screw up."

Amidst the general laughter, Vivian leaned back to see the board. "Peck and Aronson," she read aloud.

"Old times," said Jenny. "I'll let you drive."

"You miss me," said Vivian, smirking. But she indeed grabbed the keys for their cruiser.

It was odd to think that Vivian both wanted and feared the idea of ETF being a full time job for her. It was for Sabrina now, and if Vivian followed her towards sergeant, it would be for her. Even so, she spent a lot more time in the company of her ETF crew than that of her rookie class. Simply put, Vivian's skills were in high demand. She was the top go-to for anything remotely bomb related, and in the last year that had expanded to pretty much anything on the geeky side of ETF.

She did love it. A lot. Holly and she spent a lot more time nerding out over science, which got them both fond looks from Gail. Jamie was... Well. She was okay with it, but sometimes Vivian worried that her girlfriend wasn't as keen on it as she let on. And Vivian still sucked at reading people like that.

A criminal, no problem. Their MO and behaviours were easy enough to catch up with. A human who liked her, and dear god she still had no idea why, was impossible to gauge. Between her work being more, well, work, and Jamie's parents, and her own parents being fucking annoyingly perfect, Vivian was just not sure at all as to what and where she stood with her girlfriend.

Her therapist had some words about that. Mostly to just ask. Some to just let it be and trust. And a couple cautions not to be all Vivian about things all the time, please and thank you.

That last one was specifically difficult.

Thankfully being all Vivian about being a patrol officer was a good thing. She concentrated on her job, worked hard at it, handed out tickets like normal. And then Vivian made the greatest mistake of her life.

"Today's a pretty good day," Vivian said to Jenny as she peeled back the wrapper on her sandwich and watched a garage band set up for what appeared to be an impromptu free concert.

That night, when telling Jamie all about her day, Vivian was sure to highlight her own stupidity.


"I'm sorry to drag you in when you're out sick," said Seabourn, as Gail walked up.

"It was just food poisoning." Gail put on her sunglasses and eyed the area. "Jesus, this is a fucking mess."

"It sure as shit ain't funny." Seabourn scowled at the drama.

Around noon, something had knocked out power for a chunk of downtown. Gail had been sipping coffee (full caff, in defiance of Holly's comments) and watching the news. Abruptly the tv signal went black, and then they cut from the man on the street to the news studio, reporting they had no idea what had happened.

Gail was dressed and in her car by the time John called, begging her to come in.

That was just how shit went sometimes. But at least it was Ananda out in the field and not Holly. Whom Gail had not yet called to let her know where she was.

"Well," said Gail slowly. "Catch me up."

The details were distressingly slim. A handful of officers had been present for the event, including a certain young Peck. They were unable to explain more than the basics. It was a lunch break. They were sitting by the park. Suddenly the electronics went out.

Even Vivian's report was scant. Vivian probably had a theory though, knowing the kid. Well, Gail could ask her later. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Stupid tomatoes. It didn't help that Gail felt hot and sticky, too. Holly was probably right that she'd picked up a bug somewhere. Damn it.

"Okay," said Gail. She took off her sunglasses to squint at the road. "Keep the patrol officers on make-peace. We need someone scanning reports of cybercrime. Loop in the Mounties in case this is actually terrorism, though given the isolation and location, I don't think so."

Seabourn nodded, making notes. "Why location? Isolation, I assume you mean that only three parts of town went out?"

"Three parts of town that aren't generally noticed immediately but still fairly quickly. It's an odd choice for a test run."

"That's assuming this is the first attack, ma'am," said Vivian, popping up out of nowhere. She had her log book in hand. "One of the kids in the band said the power did this at their, ah, 'shithole of a practice space' but he thought it was the bassist's homemade pedal."

Gail blinked. "Same band?"

"No. He's apparently in four metal bands, as well as this one."

"Overachiever," muttered Gail. "Okay, Zeke, we need to expand. This may be a ramp up. See if we had any feet on the ground at the last one. Address?" She turned to Vivian who held out her logbook to Seabourn. "That's Twenty-Seven. Loop 'em in on my authority. Peck, y'all photograph everyone here?"

Vivian looked faintly offended. "Yes, ma'am."

She had a right to be annoyed. It was normal to photograph everyone at a scene.

Ever since the rash of hate crimes that had upticked in the late 2010's, following that horrible US election, it had become more important than ever to photograph bystanders. Prior, that information had been used when investigating serial crimes. People who showed up at similar events were often tangential or topical to the crime on hand, after all.

Since the second rise of Neo Nazi and Fascism, though, it all changed to picking out frequent "alt-right" offenders. Sometimes. A disturbingly high number of cops were pro-neo-fascists. Gail had spent a significant amount of time rooting them out with Frank, playing as if she was one of them. That damn blonde hair and pale skin had some benefits, after all. Sadly some had carried the same last name as she and her decidedly not blonde-and-pale progeny.

Still. The majority of the far right-wing crazies were gone or subsided now. They did have a surfeit of conservatives, too much for Gail's taste, but they were not the leadership, and they were barely tolerated. Bonus, the skills the Force had learned as a whole in how to spot repeat tiki torch twits was a boon today. Gail mentally high-fived herself for the alliteration.

"Stay here," ordered Gail, and she gestured at Vivian. The younger Peck nodded and walked back to her patrol car and partner. "If, if this is a series, we have a problem, Zeke."

"Ya think?" Zeke sighed. "What the hell? There isn't anything of value to steal." He clearly meant 'in this part of town.'

It took a lot of effort not to make a snide gentrification comment. "First test, does it work. Second, what's our response time. Third would be go-time." Gail put her sunglasses back on. "Bring in that musician. I want every parallel possible unearthed and documented, even if it's the colour of his fucking g-string."

Zeke looked appalled. "You think he's got a g-string on?"

"Only if we're lucky," said Gail grimly.


As Gail explained her afternoon, Holly tried not to be upset. She really had no room to talk about being a workaholic, but still. Holly worried about Gail's health. More so now that Elaine and Steve had experienced some age related issues. And more since her own mother had died.

Holly liked her wife, and wanted to keep her around for a while.

Still, Gail was always going to go to work and save the city, even if she was feeling a bit under the weather. It was just the kind of person she was. Gail was loyal and devoted to her work. And her wife, yes.

"You aren't listening to a word I said," complained Gail, putting her fork down.

"Ananda told me all about it," Holly admitted.

"Always the buzzkill." And Gail scowled. It was adorable.

Holly refused to let said adorability sway her. "You were supposed to be at home, resting."

Raising a finger, Gail proceeded to defend her choice. "I was. And then idiots decided to make crime of the major variety. Necessitating my appearance."

"Coulda dialled in."

"That's not how I work," said Gail, petulantly.

Damn it. Holly caved and smiled. "No. It's not."

Vindicated, Gail resumed eating. "Before you ask, I still feel like shit, and my temp is all wonky. Yes, I took some ibuprofen."

Temperature? Holly frowned and resumed eating, trying to think through the symptoms. She'd never really been great at a differential diagnosis. Not with live people. But she knew Gail incredibly well. So. What did it mean? Gail didn't normally run a temperature when she had an allergic reaction. That was something...

Oh.

She did the math. Twice.

"Honey, your last period was three months ago, right?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "You're good, but you're not that good, Stewart. I'm not pregnant."

"Hm. No, quite the opposite."

Her wife paused. "Uh, I'm not the doctor, but I thought the opposite of pregnant was a period."

"The absence of a period while not being pregnant," corrected Holly. "Which is early. But you were a premie and I don't remember how all that adds up."

Gail just stared at her. "Wait. Are you trying to tell me I hit menopause?"

"Messed up period schedule. Hot flashes. And I bet you only had a mild allergic reaction after all." Holly felt inordinately pleased. "Schedule a checkup."

Almost predictably, Gail stuck out her tongue. "You're a Doctor. You diagnose."

"Not a gynaecologist, no matter how much voluntary time I spend there, Peck." They traded scimitar smiles. They were old jokes. A well worn routine, and one Holly loved.

"Damn. Mom just had to go and have that estrogen based cancer, didn't she?"

Holly shrugged. "She's in remission, and shows no sign of a relapse." But that was exactly why Holly wanted Gail to get checked out. It was possible Gail wouldn't be able to take normal estrogen replacement. "Besides, honey, your idiosyncratic reactions to medication are, in fact, legendary."

Gail snorted a laugh. "I'm legendary," she said, clearly agreeing. "Fine." Gail tapped her watch and made an appointment.

"Living in the future," said Holly, amused.

"Do I get to tell you about the crime now, oh wise doctor?"

Holly waved one hand. "Someone's using EMPs to knock out power, probably building up trial runs to steal something, or mess with services. And you've assigned our formerly unwashed hoyden to task?"

There was a silence and Holly looked up to see Gail morose. "Why do you have to spoil my fun? Between you and our kid, the world is filled with smart asses."

"What did the kid do?" Holly canted her head to one side.

"Smart mouthed me, with good reason," admitted Gail with a growl. "I was going to assign her to Ananda's Team, and she pointed out having someone savvy like her in the field was better. She knew what to look for."

It took a moment for Holly to process what Gail meant by 'in the field,' since Ananda and Co. were all, in fact, in the field. "Oh she did beat patrol?" Holly arched her eyebrows. "That kind of makes sense," she essayed carefully.

Gail threw a hand up. "I know! She's damn smart, Holly. What'm I going to do?"

"About...?"

"Sue wants her for a white shirt."

Holly pursed her lips. "She'd be out of the line of fire."

Gail grunted. "Yeah, but then this is a career." She waved a hand to indicate herself and, by extension, the Pecks.

"She has two career driven mothers, honey," pointed out Holly. "You didn't see that coming?"

"I was hoping she'd grow out of it." And Gail mournfully stabbed a carrot.

That was an interesting thought. Gail still didn't love the fact that she herself was a career cop. She hadn't wanted to be one, after all, it was just what was expected and required of her. Gail was a Peck, Pecks were cops. And Vivian was a Peck, but by choice.

"We don't get to chose what they become," she said gently. "They grow up and become their own people with their own paths."

Gail toyed with the last leaf of her salad. "What if she doesn't find a you?"

"A me?"

"Someone who just gets her, and likes the her that she is and is okay with her being obsessive and weird."

Holly pursed her lips. "I take it you don't think Jamie would be that."

Gail just shook her head.

That had been a topic they danced around more than once. Always, Gail had fears about their girl. Would Vivian figure out how to trust people enough to have a functional relationship? Was Vivian really a lesbian, or was that just because of her early childhood and serious issues with men? And speaking of that, would she ever be able to call her birth parents by their names?

Always always always Gail fretted. And that made sense. Gail came from the fractured and emotionally abusive home. Gail was the one who struggled to understand herself and love. And Gail saw those things in their daughter.

Holly sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say, honey."

Gail shook her head again. "I don't know either. I just have a bad feeling."

"Hmm. Are you going to cat up a tree on me?"

Miracle, Gail smiled. "No. No I'm not. I'm just .. sorry. I'm thinking a lot of bad endings and unhappy ones."

Reaching across the table, Holly touched Gail's hand. "Okay, what happened?"

"Nothing!" Gail grimaced. "Nothing at all. It's just ... my head. Does what it does."

That happened too, some times. Holly squeezed Gail's hand. "You're making a tree out of a shrub, honey," she said firmly.

A moment passed. A heartbeat. And Gail snickered. "Fuck, I am, huh?"

"Just a bit, yeah." Holly smiled. "You have to let her go, Gail. She's a good kid, and she's responsible. Hell of a lot more than we were."

Gail snorted. "God that's true." Then. "Mostly me."

"Mostly you," agreed Holly. "It's fine." Gail looked a little uncertain but nodded. "Just pretend you're more confident when we see her?"

Gail gave a weak smile and nodded again. "You'd think I'd be better at lying," she said gravely. Holly startled, which made Gail smile and they both laughed.

She couldn't think of anyone else to laugh at life's absurdity with than Gail.


"So it's your fault," said Jamie as she came into the apartment. She pointed at Vivian, with a scowl.

Christian eyed Vivian and leaned over. "Dude. What'd you do?"

"Dude, stop gendering everything." Vivian shoved his face. "Did they make you practice old school?"

Jamie snarled. "Yes. All. Fucking. Day. I hate you." She dropped her bag. "Feed me."

"Go clean up," suggested Vivian, and she slid off her stool to get the bag and start Jamie's laundry. Her girlfriend grunted a complaint that was probably meant to be a reply and stomped down the hall.

Christian cleared his throat. "What'd you do?"

"It's the EMP thing," explained Vivian. "Rapid response has to practice without access to modern tech just in case."

"Oh because we have no damn clue what's going on." Christian nodded seriously. Gravely. "Yeah that's all your fault."

"Asshole." Vivian turned on the laundry. "It's not my fault at all."

If it was anyone's fault, besides the idiots having fun, it was Gail's. And no way in hell would Vivian even consider tossing her mother under the bus. Regardless, it wasn't Vivian's fault.

"You haven't cracked it yet." Christian waved a hand. "That's your fault." But he got up to make them food, so Vivian didn't really seriously consider braining him.

That said, he had a point. They hadn't cracked anything about it. Over a month they'd had four, random, non-escalating EMP ... attacks. They were practically pranks. Nothing horrible had happened. Yet. No thefts, no murder, not even a car accident.

Which was why the entire force was on edge. Including Vivian. And Gail. And even Holly, who tended to ignore some of the weird shit they got up to. And Jamie too. And Mac and the EMTs.

"It's not a good situation," she said to Rich, as she drove their patrol car.

Her partner for the day huffed. Rich actually made a huff noise. "It's scary as hell, y'know. And you're off patrol, what, next week?"

It was her on-call week for ETF, which stuck her in the ready room. And in this case meant she would be waiting and working on a Why and a How. Neither of which were questions she was qualified to answer.

"Yeah. I really hope we get some evidence or trails or something before then."

One day Vivian was going to learn to keep her fucking mouth shut.

The car stopped. The engine just died outright.

"Oh shit," said Rich. He braced for impact, while Vivian tapped the brakes and steered the car to the side of the street.

They were lucky. The cars behind them and in front of them, less so. The crashes were ridiculously silent. Part of Vivian's brain was amused by how the electrical systems that powered the horns wouldn't work right without power. The other part winced as the sounds of screams and metal tearing filled the day.

"Rich, grab the backup radio." They'd all been issued radios with the power off, batteries out, and the whole damn thing in a mini faraday box. There was one in the trunk of every cruiser.

Thank fucking god.

Vivian reflexively parked and turned the car off. Then she got out and used her best ETF voice. "Everyone stay calm."

Yeah like that was ever going to work.

There was no real way to get emergency vehicles there. Even with the backup radio, they had a traffic jam that fouled up five entire city blocks. In a radius. What a damn mess.

It didn't take Vivian long to figure out the actual damage was more or less where they'd been. Everything else was collateral damage. The actual numbers of cars turned off, fully, by the pulse were few. And of them, the cop cruiser was on the edge of the blast zone.

That made no sense at all. A point Rich agreed on.

"You take the left," he said. "Maybe there's someone else who's the target. They can't all hate cops."

"How is that supposed to make us feel better?"

But he had a fair point.

The actual EMP attacks were small. Oh sure, they all thought of them as ramping up, but they really only caused as much chaos as they did due to placement. Use an EMP on a power relay box, and it was easy to take out a few blocks. Use it on one car, it stopped it cold. The damage was that the sensitive circuits got fried in what was basically a targeted lightening strike.

A homemade EMP 'bomb' didn't even need to be that complex. Hell, they'd had more trouble when she was fifteen and the solar flares fucked up the satellites. No phone service for days. The flares had been exacerbated by the power lines, which hadn't been properly upgraded to handle the surge.

But they'd upgraded everything. Hadn't they?

Vivian's mind spun back to her electronics history class. The northern and northeastern seaboard power structure was a catalyst failure waiting to happen. The power grids on the West had been upgraded in the mid-2020s, following a series of epic wildfires that had taken out most of wine country. That came after decades of brownouts and rolling blackouts.

Fast forward to now and ... no. They hadn't finished the upgrades, had they.

Which meant anyone who paid a little closer attention than Vivian had could figure out the weak points in the city infrastructure. Like the older parts of town.

She froze.

Oh.

Like where she was right then.

Older didn't mean 1700s. It meant 1970 through 1990.

Oh son of a bitch.

They were targeting older, non-upgraded, tech. The locations. They'd been trying to find a connective thread through this whole mess. What or who was a target. The trick was they couldn't figure out a target because there wasn't a pattern. There was one, single, related item. A band. And that was a nowhere street.

Except the band was broke. They lived in shitty parts of town and played in them too. They were coincidence. The target had to be something else. Someone else.

Okay. Think old. She studied the cars that led to the epicentre of the drama. The cruiser had more techno shit than a normal car, so of course it was impacted. Once it finished a reboot and reset, it would be up and running like normal. Same with her radio, though they tended to react badly due to age.

The next heavily impacted would be something that was old. What was likely to be old? Social services. Schools. Government.

She swept the area. There. A van with a few dents. She easily ran up, but there was no one outside it. Rapping the window, Vivian frowned. Someone was inside. They weren't reacting. Were they dead?

Vivian rattled the door and the motion made the person, a child, sit up. His eyes were wide and scared. Smiling, she waved and held up her badge. It felt like forever, but the kid opened the door.

"Hi, I'm Officer Peck. Are you okay?"

No answer. His eyes were locked on her mouth. Oh. She tilted her head and saw a device on his ear. Shit.

Vivian signed an apology and asked the question again.

The boy relaxed just a little. He sighed his named was Phillip and he was scared.

"Me too, Phillip. Are you alone?"

Quickly Phillip explained he'd been in the van with a classmate and their teacher. The car had suddenly stopped and all their cochlear implants had stopped working. His classmate had seemed to be in pain and ran. His teacher went after him.

Vivian wanted to punch whomever was doing shit like this. Damn it. They never thought about the people who were caught in the crossfire. Innocents. She tapped her radio. "4727. Anyone read?"

Nothing. She told Phillip to wait, and looked around. Where the hell was Rich?

"Peck!" Her partner waved his arms. "Robbery over!"

What? She didn't ask that. "Who?"

"Catherine Rose."

The name didn't ring a bell right away.

"Peck? Tell her Donal," said a male voice from inside Rich's car.

Why the hell would Donal be a name she should remember. Vivian frowned and signed for Phillip that she'd be right back. "Who the hell is Donal Rose?"

A cheerful, if wan looking man smiled at her from the back of the car by Rich. "You must be Gail's daughter."

She frowned. "Okay, sir. What'd they steal?"

"Jewelry. Thank god no one carries cash anymore," muttered the woman driving. "I'm his cousin. Catherine." She studied Vivian curiously. "She doesn't look like Gail."

"Lesbian. She adopted." Donal shrugged from the neck up only.

Paralyzed. Donal Rose. Nope. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. Hanford can you cover this? I've got a 10-74. Minor, deaf."

Rich's eyes went wide. "I'll call that in. Go, go!" Of all the officers, he was the most receptive to those problems.

Vivian hustled back to the van and was surprised to see a woman, her own age, hugging Phillip and signing frantically. "Excuse me, ma'am," she said and tapped the woman's shoulder. With her free hand, she signed. "Who are you?"

The woman turned and they both startled.

Running into Skye, her ex, was not something she'd expected at all.


"So the plan was to rob the Rose family?" Gail smothered a laugh. Barely.

"Apparently." John was smirking. "Also Donal is pissed off your kid has no idea who the fuck he is."

"Donal can blow it out his ass. He's only out of jail because Holly's nice."

John snorted a laugh. "I'd wondered why you spoke up for him."

The crux of Holly's argument was that it wasn't like Donal was going to get up to more death. Plus given his health, he was unlikely to live more than ten years. It would be cheaper to let him live it out at home. Which was fair.

"Yeah, well," she muttered. "So Catherine was the target?"

"Apparently so." John tapped on his phone. "She makes a habit of wearing million dollar shit?"

Gail blinked. That was a question, she realized. "Oh. I don't know. I think I only met her a couple times." To the best of her knowledge, she'd only known Catherine from incidental Armstrong events. Not that she was going to those lately.

"Your kid noted she knew you well enough to know how you look."

"How's that?"

John paused. "She said Viv didn't look like you."

Well. Gail chuckled. "John. Between my mother and my father, not a damn one of us has any melanin." And Vivian totally did. She had a lovely tan skin, darker than Holly, especially in summer. "How'd the kid find them?"

"She didn't. Hanford did." When Gail arched her eyebrows, John went on. "Officer Peck had a different theory. She pointed out the targets were are in locations where the city infrastructure is sub-par to modern standards. Called it... A high chance of vulnerability to electronic type attacks."

That was an interesting view. Gail brought her map up, with the targeted areas. "So. The first shot was really just a power outage. Transformer blew because the band overloaded the system. Second, with the same band, was a target. It took out a lot the band's stuff, which wasn't on a surge protector, and that exacerbated the issue."

Behind her, John made a noise. "Exacerbated. We're not in court."

She flipped him off and continued. "The biggest impact of outages like this, according to Dr. Ames, are old systems, like the cars the kid picked out, and super new."

"Hang on. Your kid is a techno nerd of the most extreme. Why'd she think old school?"

"Probably because of the Tesla Regulations Act," Gail said, thoughtfully. "She barely knows a world without it."

That had happened when Vivian was in elementary school. Elon Musk's Tesla company has been sued over remote updates to his cars, along with most major car companies, after a botched firmware upgrade caused a noticeable number of deaths. Well. Ten deaths. Still. They had all upgraded the regenerative braking systems, and they all had the same flaw in the code. Apparently sharing the work was more common than anyone assumed.

The fallout had been increased peer regulation and evaluation of the code involved. There were now staged rollouts and enforced updates. A car literally would not permit usage on freeways or above certain mph unless serviced regularly.

Holly had been upset about the regulation, while Gail had not. They often disagreed over that sort of government oversight.

"What's that have to do with super new tech? Don't they have to follow the regulations?"

"Weirdly no, not if there are less than 100 cars produced. Bespoke and limited run products are exempt from a lot of those regulations."

John made a face. "Benefit of being super rich. Let me guess, they paid a surcharge for super cool?"

"Hm, no." Gail sat on the edge of her desk and studied John's face. She forgot about people's prejudices sometimes. And today she'd forgotten John was not a fan of the rich. "They paid a surcharge for a van that could haul Donal and his wheelchair around, with the supplies needed for an emergency." She paused. "Autonomic dysreflexia. He's prone to seizures, which have been getting worse."

At least John had the grace to look abashed. "Someone waited until they drove down a shitty road?"

"Cathrine said she drives him every week. And his PT is down this road." Gail got up and drew a line on her wall. "Remember how the assassination attempt of the PM was done? She took different routes every day, but the last quarter mile was always the same?"

"Yeah, limited approaches. That's why we built the damn tunnels for them to use."

"Rose family ain't that rich. Doesn't take a genius to see this pattern." She drew more lines, in different colours, until it was clear. The six routes Catherine used, which were random and more to do with the rest of their errands, all ended up running down that street."

John got up and tapped the map, highlighting the other test areas. "Okay. So the three areas all have electrical systems from the mid 2000s. How hard is it to find that?"

"Depends on how clever a person is. It is online, since they have to warn people power will go out."

"Construction warnings, right. I'll put the minions on that."

"And I will talk to the Roses about how someone knew about the jewelry."

John stuck his tongue out."I've got the better deal."

"You're only saying that because logically Catherine's the thief."

She left John spluttering, trusting he'd figure it out. Downstairs, it only took a minute to find Donal. He was in Andy's office without Catherine. The other Rose was still detailing the evidence that had been stolen. She rapped on the door and Andy looked incredibly relieved.

"Inspector Peck."

Huh. Andy never called her by her title. "Sgt. McNally." Gail quirked her eyebrows.

"Hi, Gaily," said Donal, who did not turn around.

"Hi, Donny. Andy, can I kick you out for a minute?"

Andy got up so fast it was almost comedic. "All the time you need." As she passed, Andy mouthed 'pervert' to Gail, in a stupid exaggerated fashion.

Gail sighed and closed the door behind her classmate. "Well thank god you're in that chair, Donal. Andy thinks you're about to grab her ass."

Her fratricidal ex scoffed. "She a lesbian too?"

"No." Gail walked around to sit where Donal could see her. "You making crude remarks?"

"Hey, I've been in jail for a long time! I'm backed up!"

Ugh. Gail rolled her eyes and snarled, "How can you tell?"

It was a crass, crude, and basically horrible comment to make. It was mean, and completely not okay. Holly would give her shit over things like that, and rightly so. However it was also someone she knew, rather well, and someone who was being an asshole and using his disability as an excuse. Oh, she knew what kind of human Donal Rose was.

He huffed and looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."

"Apologize to McNally when she gets back," instructed Gail. "When'd you get that car?"

If the question surprised Donal, it didn't show. "A week or so after I got out. They didn't like hauling me around and the automated shit in that van makes life easier. Why?"

"It's a limited edition."

"Shit it's fucking bespoke."

Bingo. "That means it may not have the same protections normal cars do. We're gonna need to take it apart."

Donal made an unhappy noise. "Whatever. Why are you telling me and not Catherine?"

"She's still logging the theft." Gail paused. "She's a Rose."

"Mmm. Yeah, Dad's cousin's kid. Uncle Randolph."

"Oh right, Randy Rose." She didn't ask for it, but her brain filled in the details. "Arrested for lewd behaviour."

"Also a gambling addict, which is why Cat needs the job."

And just like that, the case made itself. "Donny. How much do you trust her?"

The man was silent for a while. "Fuck. Really? A set up?"

"Probably. Do you know what bookies Randy works with?"

He sighed. "I do. As of twenty years ago." And without further prompting, Donal unpacked the side of his family that was involved in gambling and the mundane illegalities. "Mind calling my folks?"

"I have minions to spare me the awkward conversation of explaining to your parents that your cousin was involved in a theft over," drawled Gail.

"Yuck." Donal closed his eyes. His shoulders twitched a little. Gail presumed he was slumping. "I had nothing to do with it," he said in a small voice, like a scared child.

Ah. Of course he was terrified of going back to jail. "I'll talk to your parole officer," she said gently.

"I don't have a lot left," said Donal, nearly whispering.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Donny, those stats are averages. It covers back when we didn't have the science and treatments we have now. The average life expectancy of a SCI is way higher than it was when you got hurt. And higher than two years ago. You can't take an average rooted in the results of an earlier medical era as a ... a ... prognosticator."

"Yeah and I just spent fucking twenty years in prison!"

"For killing your brother!"

They fell silent. Donal eyed Gail. "When the hell did you learn all that shit?"

"Wife's a doctor," Gail said dismissively.

They were, again, silent for a moment. Then they both laughed. "Weren't you the fuck up when we were kids?"

"You were the Eagle Scout. I was just a garden variety goth rebel."

"I passed as an Eagle Scout," corrected Donal. "And I was always the fuck up."

Gail sighed. "If this case goes the way I think, you'll be home soon. Is there anything you need?"

Donal's shoulders moved in a semblance of a shrug. "No. We were on the way back from therapy." He pursed his lips. "When I die, Gail, will you come to my funeral?"

She looked at him for a moment and couldn't stop the frown from creasing her face. "Yes," was all she answered. It really was all she could say to the man.


Swiping her badge, the familiar beep of entrance was somehow comforting. Normal people probably didn't feel relaxed walking into a police station. Especially not where where, in the last thirty years, there had been no less than four shootings. All of which ended in death.

But for Holly, Fifteen Division was as much home as her lab or her, well, home.

"Hello, Dr. Stewart," said the smiling man behind the desk.

"Todoroki! Gail didn't say you were back!" The last Holly had heard, his rehab was coming along but they still weren't sure he'd ever work again.

"Just a desk monkey, but I can free up someone else, ma'am." He grinned, clearly pleased to be back. "Inspector Peck is in Interrogation Two. Officer Peck is just back from the hospital with her missing kid. And ... er ..." He stopped and glanced to the side.

Reflexively, Holly followed the look. "Firefighter McGann," she offered.

"Right. Except she's ..." He stopped again. "She's not here on an official capacity?"

Holly laughed softly. "She's dating Officer Peck."

"Oh! That makes a hell of a lot more sense!" Todoroki relaxed. "Thank you, ma'am."

He buzzed the second door and Holly went through. "Hi, Jamie."

"Hi, Holl— Uh. Dr. Stewart." Jamie made a face. "What am I supposed to call you here?"

"Holly." She grinned. "Here to pick up Viv?"

"Yeah, yeah. Her bike is getting new brakes."

Holly nodded. "I wish she'd sell it. I'm always worried..."

With a wry grin, Jamie shook her head. "I like it."

"Of course you do." She rolled her eyes. "Todoroki said Viv was back?"

"She's over there." Jamie gestured at the clump of desks, where Vivian was talking to a trio of adults and a young child. No. She was signing.

"Ahhh, she had the missing child case."

Jamie made a noise and nodded. "Yeah."

There was something about the noise she made that caused Holly a surprising jolt of concern. Jamie was worried. No. Jealous. It had been years since Holly was familiar with that noise. Gail had made it once, many many years ago, at a bar. The Penny.

Holly looked at the adults around Vivian again. One of them, the youngest, was touching Vivian's arm. Repeatedly. "Jamie, it's just a thankful civilian."

Jamie gave Holly an unhappy look. "You know her."

That was true, and normally Vivian was amazingly adept at avoiding that sort of contact. So was Gail. They didn't communicate physically. Well. Gail did. Just only with select people. The fact that Vivian didn't was one of the many reasons Gail was sure she'd been physically abused as a child.

The woman standing by Vivian did it again. Vivian smiled.

Okay. Jamie had a point.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Holly tried to sound convincing. "I need to drop this off."

"Oh, god. I'm sorry, Holly!" Jamie looked abashed. "You're here for work!"

"It's okay. I'll only be a few." She hesitated and then hugged Jamie quickly. It may not help, but she could try.

Holly tried to catch a glimpse of the woman touching her daughter, but the angle was just wrong. And she bounced right off Andy McNally trying to do so.

"Hey, Doc." Andy grabbed her upper arms. "Gail's in my office."

"I was here for you, actually." Holly chuckled, trying to ignore her own embarrassment. "You wanted the report on the goat-napping?"

Andy's eyes lit up. The theft of the goat mascot from one of the local schools had been a case of hilarity. Gail refused to allocate a detective, saying it was not worth her time. That left it as baby D Lara Volk's solo case. "You know they usually email this stuff."

"I wanted to watch your face." She pulled her tablet out and held it towards Andy.

As she'd hoped, Andy's facial expression was priceless. "This is good. Let's go get Volk."

They shared a smirk, the grin of people who had worked this job for years, and found delight in the obscure. "No telling," instructed Holly.

Andy rolled her eyes. "You're as bad as Gail."

"We've been married forever."

Her friend looked stricken, as if the reality of their ages had settled on her. "Crap. I'm old." Younger than Gail, Andy was just over fifty, while Gail would soon crest the halfway point for her run in the decade.

Of course, Holly was oldest of the lot, second only to Steve. And he was retired. "It happens that way. We get older. But with age comes wisdom, and an appreciation for goats and beavers."

Baby detective Volk did not quite share their amusement. Her indignation at finding the goat was cut loose by the tame beaver, and was actually rescued by the opposing school, who had been on their way to chalk the soccer field, was hilarious.

When Holly went back to the main floor to tell Gail, whom Andy claimed was in her office, she found the source of Jamie's jealousy. Gail was merrily signing away, chatting with the woman who'd been touching Vivian. Holly put on her brightest smile and walked up.

"Hey," Gail's face lit up as she turned to greet her wife. "You remember Skye?"

The young woman turned to face Holly with a cheerful smile. "Hello, Dr. Stewart."

Holly felt her jaw drop a little. "Oh my god. Skye! It's been forever." Then her brain caught up. "Don't tell me you were caught in that EMP blast?"

Mournful, Skye nodded. "Blew our all our hearing aids too."

"Our?" Holly eyed Gail.

"Skye teaches."

"I thought you were going to be a Vet." Holly recalled chatting with Skye about medical things.

"I am," said Skye. "I teach a few times a year at my old elementary school. Some of the students come with me to animal co-therapy."

That made sense. Animals needed love too when they were recovering. "Oh so you had the missing child?"

"Thankfully Vivian was there." Skye beamed. "His parents just took him home."

Holly glanced over to where Jamie had been, only to see an empty seat. Hmm. "And now?"

"Now I present gifts," announced Vivian, holding out a hearing aid and starling both Holly and Gail. "Replaced the circuit board. Thankfully it's pretty standard."

Skye looked relieved and fit the aid back in place. "I hate it, but the world is just not made for me." She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Well. That's back to normal. Thank you." And Skye moved to hug Vivian...

Who stepped back. "Ah. Skye, this is my girlfriend, Jamie. I told you?" Vivian's eyes widened a little.

Jamie, lurking just behind Vivian, smiled. "Hello."

And so did Skye. "Yes! Hi." They shook hands warmly. Well. Skye was warm.

Gail coughed. "I'll leave you to it. Don't forget to file your report before you go, eh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Oh, Detective Simmons was looking for you. Said he got a confession and details." Vivian paused. "He's in the big room up on the three."

"I wondered where he'd gone off to." Gail nodded. "Doctor?" She gave Holly a wry smile.

"Inspector." Holly smiled right back and walked with Gail to the stairs. "Well. That was awkward," she said as they started up.

Gail made a noise. "Don't tell me McGann was jelly."

"You're too old to use jelly, moron."

"That would be a yes." Gail shook her head. "What brought that on?"

"Skye was touching Viv's arm."

Her wife paused on a step. "Oh. Okay I can see that. Remember the stupid set up?"

Holly smiled. "I was thinking about that. You really wanted her dead."

"Hm. I wanted to slash her tires." Gail ruefully shook her head. "Makes sense, though. Viv's worse than I am."

"Right?" Holly patted Gail's shoulder and continued up the stairs. "She'll sort it out."

"Oh is that why we aren't down there supervising?"

Now Holly paused. "We have to let her go, Gail."

Gail looked up at her, thoughtfully. "Sounds like a therapist talking."

"Maybe." Holly shrugged and started walking again. A moment later, Gail did as well. "Besides, she seems to have the right idea."

"She did." Gail trotted and caught up with her, taking Holly's hand. "Maybe she's getting smarter."

"Shes always been smart," said Holly firmly. "She just has to trust herself a bit more."

Gail laughed softly. "You know, today was weird. EMPs, exes, convoluted stupid and overly complex crimes."

"Goats," added Holly.

"The school thing? Please tell me the goat stole the beaver!"

They both laughed. With jobs and lives like theirs, they had to learn to laugh when they could.


There's a little more to the EMP storyline. And Jamie and Vivian will have to figure this part out on their own.

Donal has nothing to do with the crime, but he sure makes a good patsy.