I do not own Rookie Blue or any of the characters….

Sorry for the long, long delay in updating. Life is crazy and demanding and throwing out a few challenges at the moment. To make up for it, it's a very long chapter.

Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows and to the MoodyDoc for pointing out that glaring oversight…all fixed now. I don't have time to write a separate Frankie and Alannah fic right now, but as a reward of sorts, they feature much more in this chapter (which won't please everyone I know).

Enjoy (I hope), review (please). Now I'm going to catch up on the latest chapters of Freedom's Just Another Word and Everything Old is New Again. Then I'll start on the update for Elusive.

….

Len Cormann owned a high-end jewellery store downtown. Even though it was early morning and the store had just opened its doors, the sole shop assistant was busy with an old lady who'd brought in her pearls to be cleaned and polished. She was so tiny and so stooped her luxuriant fur coat practically swallowed her. It was far too warm a day for a fur, Gail thought, but it didn't seem to bother the old woman.

'I'll be with you in a moment,' the shop assistant said, her teeth so white and sparkly Gail half expected a ding to accompany her smile. She was elegantly dressed in green V-necked silk shift, her auburn hair swept up in neat chignon.

There was no sign of Len so Gail passed the time by looking at rings in one of the display cabinets. Diamonds and rubies and sapphires—all too traditional for her taste.

'Thinking about popping the question, Peck,' Frankie said, slouching against the counter, her elbows resting on the countertop.

'What? No,' Gail scowled at Frankie.

'You're taking an unhealthy interest in those rings then.'

'So arrest me,' Gail snarked, 'what are you the jewellery police?'

You could tell by Frankie's grin she thought she'd won this round with Gail. Who even said this was a competition but then Frankie had been out of sorts since they left the house. Gail knew Frankie well enough to realize things weren't going well with Alannah—otherwise Frankie wouldn't be trying to get a rise out of her. Obnoxiousness was Frankie's go to strategy when she was feeling pissed with the world or overwhelmed by the expectation that she behave remotely like a well-adjusted human being.

Gail looked up from the rings to see the shop assistant carefully place the pearls in a velvet bag. The old woman gathered her handbag and turned to go, a slight flush on her cheeks that Gail put down to the fur coat. Frankie was still grinning smugly.

'You make a lovely couple,' the old woman said on her way out of the shop.

'What? No,' Gail screwed up her face, 'we're not—'

Frankie, at least, had the decency to push off from the counter and hold the door open for the woman, who smiled at her sweetly.

'So when's the happy day,' gushed the shop assistant as she moved along the counter to where Gail was standing.

'Uh, we're not—' Frankie started to say.

'Oh, you haven't set a date yet,' the woman interrupted.

'We're not engaged and never will be, we're detectives,' Gail said, pulling out her badge to show the woman.

'Oh, I am sorry,' the assistant blushed, embarrassed at her assumption.

'Is Mr Cormann in,' Frankie asked abruptly, even a little crankily. It wasn't like Frankie to be deliberately rude to witnesses. She really needed to sort this thing out with Alannah.

'Out back,' the assistant said, 'do want to speak with him?'

'Yeah,' Frankie said, like the woman was a cretin for not figuring that out.

'Can I tell him what it's in relation to?'

'Police business,' Frankie replied tersely.

'Mr Cormann might be able to help us with an investigation,' Gail supplied more helpfully.

The assistant flashed Gail a smile and headed out back, presumably to Cormann's office. Geez, you could find your way in the dark with those teeth.

A moment later, she returned. 'Mr Cormann said give him a couple of moments, then I can take you through.'

Gail nodded her thanks and Frankie drummed her fingers on the counter. The assistant stood awkwardly, as if she couldn't quite settle because she had to take Frankie and Gail through to Cormann's office. Gail resumed her perusal of the ring cabinet.

'You know you could be a hand model with hands like that,' the assistant said quite suddenly, her tone as silky as her dress.

'What?' Gail asked, not sure if she'd heard correctly.

'Your hands are very elegant—long fingers, pale skin—perfect for modelling rings.'

'Yeah,' Gail asked skeptically, not sure if she should be flattered.

'I'll take you through now,' the assistant said, obviously having decided a suitable time had passed.

'You're making quite the impression,' Frankie whispered as she and Gail followed the assistant, 'what would Holly think.'

Gail rolled her eyes. One, she was fairly certain the assistant was 100 per cent straight and two, did Frankie think she and Holly were—what—in kindergarten. She wanted to say Holly wouldn't care less, that she and Holly had this thing called trust and Frankie should try it sometime but thought better of it.

Len Cormann was in his early fifties. He had an athlete's physique and wavy grey hair, short on the sides and longer on top. His tan face had just the right amount of stubble to make it appear deliberate rather than unkempt. Maybe it was something he and Avanti bonded over, Gail thought. As she and Frankie came through the door into his office, he was indiscriminately shoving papers into a desk drawer. Before Cormann shut the drawer, Gail noticed most of the bills were actually overdue notices.

'I don't know why you're talking to me, I sold that land years ago,' Len said after Frankie explained why she and Gail were there.

'We know that,' Frankie said, 'we've just come from speaking to Tim Avanti. The body was clearly put there prior to the sale.'

'Yeah,' Cormann sounded disinterested, 'what year?'

'We're still determining that,' Frankie said, sounding more patient than Gail imagined she felt.

'And you want my help because—' Cormann left the question hanging, the implication being they had no reason to question him. For some reason Frankie's line of questioning was putting him offside.

'That your father,' Gail said, deliberately not answering Cormann's question. She nodded towards a large framed black and white photograph of a man who looked like a much younger version of Cormann. A medal hung around his neck, and he was holding a bow and arrow as if ready to shoot, the string on the bow taut.

'Yes. Matthew Cormann. He won bronze at the '56 Olympics in Melbourne. He was only sixteen at the time.' If he had sounded bored before, now Cormann spoke with great enthusiasm, clearly proud of his father.

'And you and your brother followed in his footsteps?'

'Neither of us were ever as good as Dad. The archery club was his dream and when he died, Mitch and I set it up in his memory.'

'Why didn't you name the club after him,' Frankie asked.

'It was a stipulation of his will. He was a modest man.'

Stipulation of the will. Interesting, Gail thought. Did that mean the brothers' were less altruistic than Len was making out? 'Your father left money for the club,' she said.

'Yeah, enough to buy the land and build the clubhouse. He wanted more kids to get involved in the sport.'

'What stopped him from setting up the club himself?'

'He was diagnosed with MS when I was a teenager. An extreme form. By the time I was in my twenties, he'd lost the use of his legs and was almost completely blind. It was cruel for someone who'd led such an active life.'

Gail nodded sympathetically.

'Before he was full of life,' Cormann continued, 'and then he just shut himself away, like he didn't want people to see him like that. My mother was his carer and two of them became practically reclusive.'

'Is she still alive?' Gail asked.

Cormann shook his head. 'She died in 1995, not long after Dad. The same year we set up the club. So, with Len's disappearance, I'm it now. The only one of the Cormanns left.'

'You don't have a family,' Gail said.

'Never married, Cormann said, ' and no children that I know of.'

'Know of,' Frankie said.

'Lets just say there haven't been any ah paternity suits,' Cormann smirked. So he fancied himself a player, Gail realized, not that she should be surprised. His suit pants were a little too tight fitting and his shirt hugged his body to show off a physique that was clearly the product of regular gym sessions. She'd noticed too that Len couldn't help but appraise she and Frankie as they came into the office, giving them the one over as they sat down.

'So Mitchell went missing four years ago,' Frankie said, 'is that right?'

'Yeah,' Cormann said heavily, 'I filed a missing person's report. Literally, one minute he was here and the next gone. His firm contacted me when he didn't show for work three days running. Oh shit, that's why you're here. You think it's him.' Len ran a hand across his face, and squeezed his eyes shut with a thumb and forefinger.

'At this stage we don't know if the remains are male or female,' Frankie said, 'but it's a possibility.'

'Any reason Mitchell might have taken off?' Gail asked.

'No,' Cormann sighed. 'He just vanished. Didn't take his wallet or cell or any clothes. In the last four years he hasn't used his credit cards or tried to access his bank accounts.'

'Were you two close,' Frankie said.

'I guess. I mean we weren't in each other's pockets but we caught up most weeks, even if just a quick phone call.'

'Was anything bothering Mitchell before he disappeared?'

'I've been through all this with the missing person's unit. No history of mental illness, no emotional or financial problems, in fact no stresses at all. He was well liked at work and had a close circle of friends—so no enemies—and he didn't belong to a wacky religious sect,' Cormann ticked the list off on his fingers.

'What about a partner,' Frankie asked.

Cormann's face clouded over. 'Melanie. She—' he hesitated,' this is going to sound crazy but she disappeared about eighteen months before Mitchell did.'

Holly was running late. She was due at the morgue to meet the forensic anthropologist Dr Chatterjee in less than half hour. Really she should have got out of bed when Gail left for her meeting, but it was deliciously warm under the covers and Holly found herself drifting back into a half doze. She'd needed it too—they'd barely had six hours sleep.

Functioning on little or no sleep didn't seem to bother Gail. It was of course something Gail learnt as a child. Why was Holly even surprised —Elaine and Bill had done far worse. From a very young age, Gail had become used to being woken in the middle of the night and asked to perform tasks of varying degrees of difficulty. On learning this Holly had pointed out sleep that deprivation was used as a form of torture, to which Gail had replied, 'tell me about it.' Holly, on the other hand, didn't do well without sleep. So when Gail left this morning with a sweet kiss, Holly had pulled the duvet up and snuggled into the warmth, wishing Gail was still there.

For someone with the Ice Queen epithet—which Holly knew to be a misnomer, well yeah Gail had her moments but mostly that was because people were idiots or thoughtless or cruel—Gail radiated a lot of heat in bed—okay, not that kind of heat, not that she wasn't ridiculously hot, and Holly was never one to advertise it but sex with Gail was ridiculously amazing, and yeah, okay Gail did generate that kind of heat. What Holly actually meant is Gail quite literally kept her warm at night.

Strangely though, Gail's feet where often cold and she usually wore socks to bed. Poor circulation, Gail had shrugged. If it weren't for the ice block feet, she could have earned good money as a human bed warmer. They were a thing among the aristocracy back before hot water bottles and electric blankets and central heating. The lady's maid would warm her mistress' bed and then, often as not, because it was so cold, stay the night. Holly wondered how many times hands had wandered beneath the covers—there weren't any records of course and supposedly that sort of thing just wasn't done back then. As if.

When Holly had shared this fact, Gail teased that it was clearly a nerd fantasy and Holly blushed, even though that particular scenario wasn't something she had fantasized about—at least not until Gail mentioned it. Holly could imagine slipping into a canopied bed, shivering until she found Gail, snug and warm and a little drowsy. Then she'd press herself up against Gail before slipping an arm lightly around her waist, and her hand would drift down lower and lower and lower still and Gail would stir and reflexively push against Holly's hand and—.

'Oh my God nerd,' Gail had shrieked, interrupting before Holly could go any further, a big amused grin on her face, 'you are totally going there right now, aren't you.'

Holly bit her lip but didn't reply. She didn't quite trust herself to speak.

'Was she pretty, your maid?' Gail asked knowingly.

'Um, I wasn't,' Holly started, blushing even more, in fact feeling quite hot and bothered, and wondering if Gail would believe her if she denied indulging in said fantasy. Gail quirked an eyebrow. Okay, so that was one of Gail's interrogation faces—the one that said you aren't kidding anyone but yourself. 'You were the maid,' Holly blurted out. Oh she was a pushover. She knew exactly how Gail was working her and still she crumbled.

'I was the maid,' Gail said incredulously, 'I don't think so.' Then she'd pushed Holly back on the bed and what ensued was better than any fantasy. Always was.

Holly smiled at that memory as she came down the stairs and into the kitchen, intending to grab an apple to eat in the car. Coffee would have to wait until she got to work. Alannah was seated at the table looking glum. Actually looking wretched. Judging from the dark circles under her eyes, she'd slept fitfully, if at all. Holly could guess whose fault that was. A certain swaggery detective who wouldn't know what was good for her if it bit her in the ass.

'Are you okay?' Holly asked tentatively, knowing Alannah was anything but okay but not sure what else to say.

'I think I have to end it with Frankie,' Alannah said. If the words were dramatic, they weren't said that way, rather Alannah sounded resigned and flat.

'Okay,' Holly said slowly. She sighed inwardly and pulled out a chair to sit opposite Alannah. There was nothing for it. She was definitely going to be late now. 'Why? I mean I get why but why now? I thought you two were working things out.'

'One minute Frankie's all in, the next she's pushing me away,' Alannah said, 'I can't be with someone who despises me for wanting to be with her.'

'Believe me, Frankie hates herself even more for pushing you away. And despise is probably too strong a word for what's going on.'

'Which is what? I'm dating someone with the emotional intelligence of a twelve year old. Actually, twelve year olds are way more together than Frankie.'

Holly smiled sympathetically. Alannah's description of Frankie made her think of that time at 15 when she returned the thumb and Gail had confessed she was impetuous and a brat and still sometimes acted like a teenager. The saying of it—that acknowledgement—of course meant Gail wasn't those things, not completely anyway. It had been too much for Holly to hear and it had come too late—that explanation, if that's what you could call it, because there was something of an apology and an entreaty in it as well. Days and days of unanswered calls and text messages too late.

Holly had already decided to move on from Gail, had persuaded herself that Gail was not right or good for her. It wasn't an easy decision. God no. In the end it was about self-preservation. Holly had had her share of difficult relationships in her early twenties and didn't want another. At least that's what she told herself.

As Holly walked away from Gail that day, her heart had other ideas because it felt like it was literally breaking, cleaved in two, the pain of it lacerating and more violent than she thought psychically possible. Even months later, when she was making a new life for herself in San Francisco, Holly was revisited by that pain. Sometimes it was just a dull ache but just as often it was as acute as it had been that day in 15. Even the memory of it was hard. Something of that must have shown in Holly's expression because the next thing Alannah was asking if she was all right. Holly brushed it off, not wanting to distract her friend with something that was very much in the past and probably not the least bit helpful to Alannah's situation.

'I thought Frankie and I were different—how stupid was that,' Alannah said, not bothering to disguise her bitterness, 'but she's discarded me like all the others.'

'I wouldn't say she'd discarded you,' Holly said gently, 'but it's the classic I'll reject you before you have a chance to reject me—because they're certain once you find out who they really are that its inevitable you'll leave.'

'You're talking about Gail now, not just Frankie,' Alannah said, looking at Holly keenly.

Holly nodded.

'Its hard to imagine Gail like that. I mean, she doesn't hide how into you she is, now,' Alannah said.

'It was different when we first dated.'

'I don't know about Gail, but with Frankie it seems pushing people away is a sure guarantee the relationship is doomed to fail—a self-filling prophecy.'

'Or they choose jerks who don't stick around.' Holly still felt angry when she thought about people like Nick who made Gail feel unlovable, who had dumped her and let her think she was to blame. Holly knew she should let it go. Gail thought it funny that Holly held onto that resentment, after all Gail was the first to admit she hadn't always been the easiest person in a relationship, in fact still had her moments.

'I hadn't thought about that but it makes sense. When the jerks dump them, it just confirms everything they believe about themselves.'

'Yeah,' Holly made a face.

'But I can't see Gail sabotaging your relationship.'

Holly laughed mirthlessly. 'We've had our share of drama. You've heard about that night at Penny.'

Alannah nodded. Everyone in their circle knew about it but they were careful not to bring it up because Gail still found it painful, in fact could only just bear to be reminded of that night. Well, that is apart from Lisa who, if she were in a churlish mood, would use what happened at the Penny, particularly the Taser line, to taunt Gail. Holly didn't much like talking about it either, because inevitably feelings of hurt and bewilderment would resurface and, even though she was certain Gail would never treat her like that now, Holly would be reminded that Gail was capable of lashing out. Crazy thing was had they talked that night or even the day after or the day after that, they would have realized both their hearts were broken.

'It did sound like Lisa was being an A grade bitch,' Alannah said.

'Yeah, that didn't help, especially as Gail and I hadn't had the conversation about how we felt about each other. I kinda thought it was obvious and I didn't want to spook Gail so I hadn't said anything, and Gail, well she had a lot of reasons to be guarded. But Gail has worked hard to get past that. And not just her. We've both worked on getting rid of relationship baggage,' Holly said.

She had fallen in love with the old Gail, desperately, recklessly in love, but Gail was right—if the incident at the Penny hadn't killed their chances, something else would surely have. Gail maintained they would have imploded if they'd stayed together then—and again she was very probably right. Theirs had been love at a fevered-pitch and it couldn't be sustained. Gail said that after, when Holly had left for San Francisco and Gail had time to reflect on their relationship (if you could call it that because it was over so quickly), she realized she hadn't been ready for it—the fact was neither of them was.

Alannah bit her lip. 'I wish I was enough of a reason for Frankie to get past whatever is going on.'

It was such a sad and despondent statement. It made Holly wonder how useful the inescapable but not entirely accurate comparisons between Gail and Frankie were right now. The two women were actually more dissimilar than alike. Sure there were parallels, but Frankie was bitterer than Gail and had every reason to be. Although compared to Gail, Frankie had had a fairly charmed career in the force. She hadn't been kidnapped and drugged or shot at or knifed. No one had wrapped their hands around her neck and threatened to choke her, had stalked or obsessed over her. Frankie hadn't even had a slushy thrown in her face while out on patrol. Nor had she been betrayed so comprehensively and so publicly by a family who had always made her feel like the failure. So, on balance, Gail had every right to be as bitter as Frankie, Holly decided, and yet she wasn't.

When Holly thought about her relationship with Gail now, they were no longer overwhelmed by the enormity of their feelings, and so neither she nor Gail looked for excuses to run from them. It was a gift— the love they shared—Holly knew that now, perhaps at some level had always known it but had been too scared to admit it. And now, now there was no dissembling or equivocation, no fear, just a desire to be together that was so strong it left no room for hesitation or doubt. Could the same be said of Frankie and Alannah?

'You know with everyone else she was gone by now,' Holly aware that she needed to say something to reassure Alannah, 'Frankie may be acting like an ass but the fact that she's sticking around has to mean something.'

'I guess,' Alannah said doubtfully.

'Do you know much about Frankie's upbringing?'

'A little—she doesn't like to talk about her childhood.'

Holly nodded. Would she be breaking confidences if she told Alannah about Frankie's family? Not that Holly knew a huge amount—just things Gail had mentioned or Frankie let slip. Funnily enough, Frankie seemed to trust Holly with her secrets, which is why Holly knew how much she cared for Alannah. Of course, Frankie hadn't put it in so many words but Holly read between the lines.

'I know her mother was an alcoholic,' Alannah said when Holly didn't immediately speak.

'Yeah, her mother was also emotionally abusive,' Holly said, 'it seems like she didn't have a lot of love or time for her kids. She'd go on binges and leave the kids for days on end, even when they were tiny. Frankie remembers being so hungry she ate toothpaste because there was no food in the house. Plus there was a rotating cast of boyfriends, some of who beat Frankie's mom. It is amazing Frankie managed to pull herself out of that. She once told me most of her siblings are either dead, in jail or living in rundown trailer parks.'

'Shit,' Alannah blew out a breath, 'that's—that's really fucked up. I knew it was tough but—,' she trailed off.

'I sometimes wonder if Frankie doesn't know how to be loved, and that's just as much behind her inclination to run as fear of rejection.'

'So you're saying give her another chance.'

'Only you can decide that Alannah. I'll tell you something though, I regret waiting so long to give Gail another chance.'

'Does it bother you that Gail used to sleep with Frankie,' Alannah asked abruptly.

Holly shrugged. 'I'm guessing no more than it bothers you.'

'You and Gail are so clearly in love, plus she and Frankie seem to have consigned their thing very much to the past, so no, it's never worried me. But I guess, with the four of us being friends, it's a weird, well not triangle, a square?

'Those two are anything but square,' Holly joked, 'but you know the lesbian community—forget six degrees of separation, it's more like two, even in a city the size of Toronto.'

'True and Frankie has quite a history,' Alannah made a face.

'And Gail was no wallflower when I was in San Francisco,' Holly said. At least it had confirmed to Gail that she was definitely gay—not that she'd been in any doubt once she and Holly got together. Holly had thought her perhaps a tad hasty but Gail had shrugged and said she'd never felt so sure of anything in her life. Still, Alannah was right. It was tangled. Holly was well aware Alannah had had a brief crush on Gail. God, what if they'd met and had a thing while Holly was in San Francisco. It would have made this situation positively labyrinthine.

After that Holly said she really had to get to the morgue, but the forlorn cast of Alannah's face made her suggest the surgeon return for a drink after work. 'We'll figure something out,' she promised, 'maybe Gail will have some ideas.' Alannah's eager acceptance of the invitation convinced Holly she was far from ready to give up on Frankie.

Sitting in the traffic, which of course was worse because she'd left home so late, Holly couldn't help but think Alannah's predicament tediously familiar. How many messages had Holly left for Gail after that disastrous night at the Penny? Holly was embarrassed to admit the number even to herself. And yes she'd counted every single one. And as each one went unanswered—as Gail maintained her radio silence—Holly got more and more dispirited and more and more hurt and then she got angry. That's when Gail had appeared at the morgue with the thumb, asking Holly for a drink and trying to act all casual as if it were just a tiny misunderstanding and they needed to clear the air.

That day in the morgue, Holly was filled with a cold fury and it wasn't just because Gail had ignored her, had shut her out so fast that Holly, who had believed she was different, that they were different —I mean they told each other stuff, right—felt foolish and hurt and kicked herself for being so easily duped, for not holding something in reserve in the face of the tempest that was Gail. For falling too hard, too fast, just like Lisa said. No, it wasn't just that she was hurting—and determined not to show Gail how much. No, what made Holly maddest of all was the fact that she wanted to gather Gail in her arms and kiss her again and again and to hell with all those unanswered messages.

Instead, Holly had put up her own barriers—distant and cool, she gave Gail nothing. She imagined it would make her feel better, but there was no victory in seeing Gail made subdued and small by remorse. And later that day, Holly found herself standing in the hall at 15, desperately holding back her tears. In that moment she couldn't believe she was the most wonderful person Gail had ever met, and even if it were true, the revelation had come too late. Holly had said goodnight with a finality that was forced and full of regret and intended to convince herself, as much as Gail, that it was over between them.

Those revelatory words and the way Gail said them—sincere, open, a little plaintively—had stayed with Holly and weeks later made her retrace her steps to 15, to drag Gail into another interrogation room, to give them another chance even if San Francisco was fourteen days away and the hope of Gail following her there such a slim one. So Holly understood where Alannah was at and she didn't envy her one bit.

….

'Any chance that's a John Doe you're putting together?'

Holly looked up from the autopsy table to see Gail framed by the doorway, a big grin on her face. That smile made Holly's heart trip, every time. Could she have stood it if that smile was reserved for someone other than her—what if Holly had returned to Toronto and found Gail had a girlfriend, could she have stomached being one of Gail's exes? Just at that moment, Frankie appeared at Gail's shoulder, scowling.

'Detectives,' Holly said, 'I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. Definitely a Jane Doe.'

'Are you sure?' Frankie said.

Holly raised an eyebrow.

'What kind of question is that Anderson,' Gail demanded, 'have you seen how many degrees Holly has.'

'Take a look at the pelvis. It's wider than a male's,' Holly said, biting her lip to supress her smile. There was something very sweet, and to be honest quite sexy, about Gail defending her honor. 'The pelvic outlet is wide enough to allow a baby to pass thorough during birth.'

'Jeez,' Frankie said, 'you reckon that's big enough for a baby to get through. Makes me glad I'll never have kids.'

'I'm guessing you skipped biology classes in high school,' Holly chuckled, 'the ligaments soften and stretch during labor which allows the pelvic outlet to expand. Even before that, during pregnancy, women release extra progesterone which loosens muscles and ligaments.'

'Huh,' Frankie said, clearly unimpressed.

Holly wondered if Alannah knew Frankie had ruled out kids. She'd never heard the neurosurgeon mention children but just a week ago when they met for coffee, Holly had witnessed Alannah gushing over a baby who was with his mother at the next table. He was a cute baby. Big dimples and the curliest blonde hair and little fat fists that grabbed at Alannah's hair when she leaned in to smile and goo at him. Still, Holly probably shouldn't read too much into Alannah's reaction, her job at the hospital didn't leave any room for kids. Come to think of it, before meeting Gail that was exactly what Holly used to say about her own job.

'Thousands of years of evolution and that's it,' Frankie waved her hand in the direction of the pelvis, sounding peeved, like evolution itself had personally affronted her.

'Millions of years,' Holly corrected absentmindedly, 'Homo sapiens have been around for 100, 000 years but some scientists claim hominids diverged from the ape lineage eight million years ago.'

'So plenty of time to come up with a less barbaric method of giving birth,' Frankie declared, 'must make you want to reconsider this whole baby thing, Peck.' Frankie bumped Gail's shoulder, which made Gail glare.

Holly shot Gail a sympathetic smile. Frankie was on the insufferable side this morning, full of swagger and bravado. It was just a cover. Holly realized that. She bet the detective wasn't feeling too good about the way she'd left things with Alannah.

'Maybe you should think about surrogacy,' Frankie was continuing on the baby track, ignoring Gail's frown, 'Holly could afford it. What about adoption? On paper you two sound like well-adjusted people—good incomes, stable jobs, awesome friends like me. Yeah, adoption—I think that's your answer.' The final word died in her mouth. 'Shit,' Frankie said, suddenly and uncharacteristically wretched, 'shit. I didn't think Gail.'

Now that was an understatement, Holly decided, just for a minute wishing she had the power to order Frankie out of the morgue. Gail bit her lip. The whole Sophie thing still cut deep. And yes Sophie was settled with a good family and yes Gail saw her once in a while and the two of them usually celebrated by eating too much junk food. Still, Holly couldn't help but wonder if she'd stuck around whether Gail would have been given custody of Sophie. Then again, the Peck scandal probably put pay to the adoption, and in all honesty, if she and Gail weren't ready to commit to each other then, how could they have committed to a child.

An awkward silence settled in the lab. It was probably mere seconds but seemed to stretch longer. Gail was the first to speak. 'While Frankie gets her foot out of her mouth, you might want to continue Dr Stewart,' she said.

Holly shot her a look of concern but the impassive Peck mask was firmly in place so she continued on as Gail requested. 'Regardless of the pelvis, you can tell this is a woman by the diameters of the heads of the humerus—the upper arm bone—and the radius, see here,' Holly pointed to the lower arm bone on the thumb side, 'and the femur are consistent with a female. Those bones tend to be much larger in males.'

'And the sciatic notch is wider,' came a voice. The three women looked up from the autopsy table to see a man dressed in a lab coat and bearing two cups of coffee.

Gail recognised him as the forensic anthropologist, Ashton Chatterjee. She and Frankie had met him on a case about two years back. Bones once again. A kid doing drug drops for a small time dealer. It was cheaper to use kids as runners and they had a network of potential buyers at school. If they got caught, the courts tended to be lenient. This boy was only fourteen—missing for six years—turned out the dealer thought he'd stiffed him and decided to kill him as a warning to others tempted to rip him off.

'Dr Chatterjee,' Holly smiled, 'have you met the detectives?'

'Ashton please, no need for formalities,' Dr Chatterjee said, 'I know these two well.' His eyes were twinkling but there was something in his tone.

'Okay, should I be worried?' Holly asked.

'No,' Ashton chuckled, 'after a very successful resolution to a case, Detective Peck insisted on plying me with tequila and I woke up with a hangover the like of which I had not experienced since I was an undergraduate. Your coffee.' He held out the cup to Holly who stripped off her gloves and took it eagerly.

'Hey, what happened to the no food or drink in the lab rule,' Gail asked with faux outrage.

'Oh,' Holly looked sheepish. 'I was desperate for a coffee and Ashton kindly offered to get one and so—'

'It was purely in the interests of ensuring an autopsy got done today,' Ashton joked, 'I know Holly functions better with coffee.'

'You didn't have time for one this morning?' Gail asked softly. She took a step towards Holly and looked like she was about to touch her wrist but hesitated. Holly shook her head. 'You slept in?'

'I might have done,' Holly said a little tartly, and then abruptly changed the subject, 'why did you think our victim was male?'

So Gail and Frankie explained what they had learned that morning.

'You're thinking it could be this Melanie—' Holly broke off.

'Melanie Fisher, yes,' Gail nodded, 'Dov will have emailed you her medical and dental records. '

'The teeth are fairly intact. We should be able to let you know in a couple of hours if it's Melanie,' Holly said.

'Any idea how she died?' Frankie asked.

'It's a little early to be definitive,' Ashton said, 'but we've found fractures consistent with falling from a height.'

'Falling?' Gail asked.

'Falling or pushed,' Holly said.

'Like down a flight of stairs?'

'It's possible,' Holly said, 'plus her skull has a deep depression. I'd say that's what killed her. It could have been caused by the fall or it's possible she was struck with an object.'

'So definitely homicide,' Frankie said.

'It looks that way, but Dr Chatterjee and I have only done a preliminary examination. We should know more by the end of the day.'

'Okay, let us know if anything else comes up,' Frankie said.

'Of course,' Holly smiled, 'and we'll notify you once we've established if this is Melanie Fisher.'

Gail started to follow Frankie out of the room but as she reached the door she turned around. 'Hey Ashton,' she said, 'did your son get accepted into forensics?'

'Yes. He's at the University of British Columbia,' Dr Chatterjee beamed.

'Holly's alma mater,' Gail said.

'Indeed. The most prestigious forensic course in Canada,' Dr Chatterjee said proudly.

'Oh so he'll be taught by the great Professor Dukas. That man is an inspiration,' Holly gushed, 'what he doesn't know about forensics isn't worth knowing.'

'Dukas,' Gail said sharply, 'his name is Dukas.'

'Yeah.' Holly looked at Gail questioningly, 'does the name ring a bell?'

'Only that that's the last name of your boyfriend from yesterday—Costa Dukas and he knew a lot about forensics.'

'My boy–,' Holly looked even more perplexed, 'oh you mean the guy who offered to carry my forensic kit. Come to think of it, he could be the Professor's son. He looks like him. Professor Dukas had children and I know one of them—a boy—was causing the Professor and his wife a bit of trouble. That was back when I was at British Columbia and the son was a teenager and Costa's what, early thirties, so it could be him.'

'And there I was thinking he'd watched too many National Geographic docos,' Gail said dryly, which made Holly laugh. 'Well, we better let you get on with your bone divination,' Gail waved a hand in the direction of the autopsy table.

'Yes because that's what all my medical degrees have qualified me for,' Holly smirked, 'maybe I can divine my future while I'm at it.'

'As long as I'm in it,' Gail smiled impishly and then, embarrassed by her mushiness, turned to go so quickly she missed Holly's fond smile.

On impulse, Holly followed Gail out into the corridor. She wasn't quite sure what drove her to do it. Only a few hours had passed since they'd been sharing the same bed so it wasn't as if Holly hadn't seen Gail for a long while and was missing her—which sometimes happened when the two of them were mired in different cases and working long, unsociable hours. Perhaps it was because Alannah's problems with Frankie were an unsettling reminder of that time—that horrible, miserable time—when she and Gail split.

'Gail can I speak to you privately? Just for a minute,' Holly asked, sounding serious.

Gail frowned as if trying to figure out if she'd done something wrong.

'I'll wait in the car,' Frankie said, 'I need to make some calls anyway.'

As Frankie walked off down the corridor, Holly took Gail's hand and pulled her into one of the smaller labs. It was empty and dark and Holly shut the door behind them, not bothering to turn on the lights. Before Gail could say anything, Holly was kissing her. It reminded Gail of that second time in the interrogation room—really you'd think she'd anticipate Holly's ambushes by now. Recognise the signs. There was no blue file though. The kisses were just as intense but now she and Holly were together no longer held that edge of desperation.

Finally, Holy pulled back.

'Not that I'm complaining,' Gail said, 'but what brought that on.'

'Oh, you know,' Holly said vaguely, her arms slung around Gail's neck.

'No, actually I don't know. Otherwise I wouldn't ask.'

'Well,' Holly stopped, suddenly looking shy, and then continued in a rush, 'I might have liked the way you stood up for me back there when Frankie was being an ass.'

'Yeah,' Gail grinned. She took Holly by the shoulders and backed her up against the door. Leaning in to kiss Holly, Gail first teased at her lips, pulling the bottom one between her own. Holly let out a little moan and Gail took the opportunity to intensify the kiss, and Holly eagerly parted her lips. She pressed herself into Gail, placing her hands on Gail's ass to bring her closer still. Gail moved her hand to Holly's breast, making Holly gasp a little and wonder at how quickly this had escalated. Just as a voice in the back of Holly's head was telling her this was completely inappropriate at work, Gail abruptly pulled back.

'Later,' she said.

'What?' Holly asked, feeling dazed and unable to articulate any thought, let alone have one beyond an awareness of the sensations Gail had caused. 'You can't start something like that and, and, and just stop,' she stammered.

'I started it? Who dragged me in here?' Gail smirked, 'you have bones to divine. I have criminals to catch. So—' she left the rest of the sentence hanging.

'So a raincheck,' Holly nodded, knowing Gail was right to be sensible and not sure what had overcome her. What had she actually been thinking? Dr Chatterjee was waiting for her in the next room and hadn't she explicitly banned sex at work. Okay, there was that one time on the couch in her office but it was still a rule and oh god she was the deputy chief of forensics and this was no way to behave.

'You just find me irresistible,' Gail grinned impishly, like she was privy to Holly's tortured thought process, 'that's why you keep dragging me into darkened rooms.'

'Go,' Holly said, giving Gail a little shove but she was laughing because of course Gail was right.

…..

'Ah um Detective Peck,' Duncan said as Gail and Frankie walked into the station.

'Yeah Gerald,' Gail said disinterestedly.

'Um ah its Duncan, um can I have um a word in private.'

The fact that Holly had literally just said almost the exact same thing to her—without all the stammering— and then pulled her into an empty lab for some very non-work related activity threw Gail. Just for a second. She didn't think Duncan had any intention of dragging her into an interrogation room and ravishing her. And ugh what a thought. Enough to make her feel like she could almost taste vomit in her mouth.

'Are you okay?' Duncan asked.

'What,' Gail said and then realized she was scowling at the thought of that kind of alone time with Duncan. 'Yeah, yeah,' she flapped her hand dismissively, 'what is it?'

'Um, ah,' Duncan said.

Gail sighed. 'It would be good to know before Christmas.'

Duncan colored and lowered his voice. 'This morning um Greg and I um, ah pulled um Dr Stewart over for speeding.'

Holly must have really slept in, Gail thought. 'And you're telling me this because?'

'I didn't book her, you know I figured she was on the way to work and ah it was probably an urgent case so um I just gave her a warning.'

'If she was speeding, you should have booked her,' Gail said, 'who's Greg anyway?'

'Greg Officer. A rookie, um he just started. He was introduced at parade.'

'Oh, you mean Officer Officer,' Gail smirked, 'the reduplicate policeman.'

'Huh,' Duncan said, looking confused.

'Or we could just call him ditto I guess,' Gail said in that syrupy tone of hers and with a big fake smile.

Duncan laughed uncertainly.

Gail sighed in exasperation. Duncan really wasn't all together there. He was so dull messing with him wasn't even fun. 'Okay, Gerald, in future if you catch Dr Stewart speeding, you book her.'

'Um I guess,' Duncan said doubtfully, 'and it's Duncan.

Gail looked at him indifferently and shrugged. 'Yeah, I know that.'

…..

'So you and Detective Peck are, ah, an item,' Dr Chatterjee said when Holly returned to the autopsy suite. She'd had to make a detour via the bathroom to straighten her hair and splash cold water on her face.

'You picked up on that,' Holly said.

Dr Chatterjee nodded. 'Her concern for you is very sweet.'

'Sweet—don't tell Gail that,' Holly chuckled, 'it won't do her reputation any good.'

'You know, underneath that, ah—' Dr Chatterjee hesitated.

'Icy exterior?' Holly supplied. She was quite used to people describing Gail as such even if it annoyed the hell out of her.

'I wouldn't call it that, but Detective Peck is one of the most compassionate police officers I've worked with, as well as the one most able to hold her liquor.'

'Oh yes,' Holly laughed, 'she can drink most people under the table.'

'For you,' Gail dropped a card on Frankie's desk.

'What,' Frankie swivelled around in her chair.

'Leslie recommended her. She and Dr Barrett trained together. Couple's counselling is her speciality.'

'Is that where you disappeared to—you were seeing your shrink. I thought you were having another long lunch,' Frankie said a wink, wink, nudge, nudge sort of way.

'I told you about it Anderson. It's a regular appointment.'

'Whatever, but I don't need a shrink,' Frankie grunted.

'You want to save your relationship with Alannah?' Gail asked.

'Thing is I don't think there is anything to save.' Just for a moment Frankie dropped her guard and Gail saw something Frankie rarely showed—hurt and fear and vulnerability—and then almost immediately the shutters were back in place. 'I don't need a shrink to tell me how fucked up I am. I know that already,' she said bitterly.

….

'No prints, I'm afraid. Francine must have been wearing gloves,' Rodney said.

'So we can't even prove its Francine,' Holly blew out a breath and stepped away from the autopsy table. 'Have you told Gail and Frankie?'

Rodney nodded, 'And Fiona Vincent.'

'And what did they say.'

'Much the same as you,' Rodney made a rueful face, 'I wish I could have done more to help.'

'Oh Rodney this is not your responsibility,' Holly hastily reassured him, 'thanks for all you've done.'

Rodney inclined his head shyly. 'How are you going with this?' he indicated the bones on the autopsy table.

'Just established an id,' Dr Chatterjee said. He'd been observing the exchange between Rodney and Holly with concern, 'a missing person. Melanie Fisher. Her dental records confirmed it.'

'I guess it will bring the family some peace,' Rodney offered.

'Never easy though,' Dr Chatterjee said.

'No,' Rodney agreed sympathetically, 'I need to get back to work, but Dr Stewart if there's anything I can do,' he trailed off.

'Thanks Rodney,' Holly smiled.

'What was that about?' Dr Chatterjee asked when Rodney left, his tone kind rather than curious.

'A long story,' Holly sighed.

'I'm a good listener.'

….

'I know it's been four years, but we always hoped Melanie had just run off. Maybe had some kind of episode,' Margie Fisher said mournfully.

Gail hated these kinds of visits. The 'I'm sorry for your loss but before you can grieve, or even actually absorb this information, I'm going to question you about your loved one's every last move and I might even decide you are a suspect' visits. It hadn't taken Holly and Dr Chatterjee long to confirm the remains were those of Melanie Fisher. Which was why Gail and Frankie were sitting on the spongy floral couch in the lounge room at the Fisher residence, drinking milky over-brewed coffee, and desperately trying to say something to assuage the Fishers' grief.

'Did Melanie have a history of metal illness?' Frankie asked.

'No, why would you think that,' Bernie Fisher snapped.

'Just that Mrs Fisher mentioned it,' Frankie said evenly. She knew not to take offence in these situations. People were hardly at their best.

'I guess we were trying to think of any explanation apart from her being, being,' Bernie said more evenly before breaking off.

'Dead,' Margie said, her voice barley above a whisper. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, her arms clasped around her body, rocking back and forward just slightly in a numb sort of way.

'I know you went through this with the detectives when you reported Melanie missing but is there anyone who you can think of who might have wanted to cause her harm?' Frankie pressed.

Margie and Bernie shook their heads.

'What about Mitchell Cormann.'

'Oh god, he was devastated when she went missing,' Bernie said.

'He was the sweetest man,' Margie stopped her rocking and looked directly at Gail, 'the lengths he went to in order to find her. He never gave up.'

'You were close to Mitchell?'

'Oh yes. He was like family. They'd only been dating for a year but he made Melanie so happy. Before that she'd been in an abusive marriage—it took her ten years to leave that, that bastard.'

The way Margie said bastard Gail got the impression she wasn't used to swearing, which in itself conveyed her total abhorrence of Melanie's ex-husband. Gail had read the file. Keith Unger had been vicious and cruel to Melanie but had been cleared of any involvement in her disappearance. Out of town and with a strong alibi.

'After Melanie disappeared, Mitchell would visit at least once a week to update us on his search for her,' Bernie added.

'So it must have come as a shock when he disappeared as well?' Gail said.

'You have no idea. We saw it on the news. That useless brother of his didn't even have the courtesy to tell us.'

'You mean Len?' Frankie asked.

'Yep,' Bernie said tightly, 'that man is not good news. He made it clear he didn't have any time for Melanie but then I caught him watching her a few times and I didn't like it.'

'How do you mean?' Frankie said.

'Like an unhealthy obsession.'

'Why didn't you mention this when she disappeared?'

'I did,' Bernie said, 'but I think the police dismissed it as the imaginings of a demented old man.'

'I'm sorry if that's the case,' Frankie said, 'is it possible Len was just being protective of his younger brother? I understand they were fairly close.'

'Close,' Margie laughed mirthlessly, 'is that what Len told you? Those brothers were like Cain and Able. Len was obsessed with proving he was better than Mitch. He put him down constantly. It started when they were children and Len was desperate for his father's approval.'

'If you're looking for a suspect, I wouldn't put it past Len to have murdered both Melanie and Mitchell,' Bernie said heavily.

…..

It was already dark outside when Frankie and Gail left the Fisher's house.

'So what do you think,' Gail said once they were in the car, 'could Len have murdered Melanie and then killed Mitchell when he found out?'

'I guess we can't rule it out,' Frankie shrugged, 'not that I'm trying to dismiss it, but the Fishers seem to have quite a grudge against Len. We need to talk to Mitchell's and Melanie's friends—get their impression of the relationship between the three.'

Gail nodded. 'You coming back to my place?' As she spoke, Gail realized that in the past she'd used those exact same words to invite Frankie back for sex. How things had changed. Words that were once charged held no such meaning anymore, and she and Frankie had settled into a friendship that was far stronger than either of them was prepared to openly admit. Stronger too than anything they had shared when they slept together. Then it was just physical intimacy without any real emotional intimacy.

'Yep. You and Holly are stuck with me.'

'I better pray Francine surfaces soon then,' Gail sassed.

Frankie rolled her eyes.

'Hey can we stop at the store. I need to get some things for dinner.'

'Well, if you're going to feed me sure.'

'Actually, my intention was to feed Holly and myself, but,' Gail paused and pretended to contemplate, 'I guess there'll be enough for you.'

'Funny Peck.'

In the store, Gail piled tofu and greens and bean sprouts into a basket.

'What are you making Peck?' Frankie wrinkled her nose.

'Vegetarian stir-fry.'

'You eat that healthy shit?'

'Uh yeah. Holly likes it.'

'Hen-pecked Peck,' Frankie muttered as they lined up at the checkout.

This time it was Gail who rolled her eyes.

When they arrived back at the house, Gail and Frankie found Holly and Alannah sitting at the kitchen table drinking wine.

'Oh hey,' Holly said merrily. Gail couldn't figure out if she'd had a few or was trying to cover for the fact that their arrival had interrupted an intense conversation about Frankie. Maybe a bit of both, but Alannah was looking mighty awkward so Gail would put her money on a heart-to-heart. She leant down to kiss Holly, smiling herself as Holly smiled against her lips. As Gail straightened, she could swear Alannah was looking at them enviously.

Frankie was leaning against the doorjamb and made no move to greet Alannnah. It was so obvious to everyone it was literally like a great big elephant in the room. Now it was Frankie's turn to look uncomfortable. She was shifting from foot to foot as if preparing to take off at any moment.

'Are you staying for dinner, Alannah?' Gail asked as she began to unpack the shopping.

'Ah,' Alannah hedged.

'You may as well,' Holly smiled warmly, 'anyway you've probably drunk too much wine to be driving right now. Wouldn't want to be stopped by a patrol car.'

'Speaking of which,' Gail raised her eyebrows.

'Oh shit, you heard about that,' Holly blushed in embarrassment, 'I tried to get Duncan to write me a ticket. It got completely absurd. I kept saying he should and he kept insisting no. He was with that ass Officer too.'

'Okay, hold up,' Frankie said, 'I'm guessing Gerald pulled you over for speeding, Holly.'

Holly nodded.

'And was Officer rude to you?'

'No,' Holly blew out a breath. She'd meant to tell Gail about Officer last night but with all the drama around Francine had completely forgotten. Nor had she had a chance to mention it to Oliver.

'So why is he an ass?' Frankie asked, clearly sensing there was more to this story.

'He was just mouthing off at the crime scene yesterday. Natasha finally went and told him to shut up.'

'Mouthing off about what?' Gail was suddenly very still.

'Um, the Pecks and you,' Holly winced, anticipating that Gail wouldn't take this news well.

'The usual crap then. The ball breaking Ice Queen?' Strangely Gail didn't seem perturbed. Holly knew she was used to the gossip, was perhaps inured to it. Gail might go mad otherwise. It didn't make it any easy to hear, that Holly was certain about.

'He said he wouldn't be surprised if you were corrupt.'

'Yeah,' Gail twisted her mouth with distaste.

'Holly, tomorrow I'm going to make Gerald write you a ticket and you're going to pay it right away,' Frankie said decisively, 'I don't want Officer on Gail's case. I'll talk to Oliver too. Sounds like Officer needs a kick up the ass.'

Holly nodded. She should have thought through the implications. If Officer thought Duncan was doing Gail a favour by not booking her and decided to report it up the line, it could lead to all kinds of trouble.

'They had their body cams on,' Holly remembered, 'it'll prove I was practically begging for a ticket.'

Gail smiled at her. 'As only a nerd would,' she teased, apparently not nearly as concerned as Frankie about Officer, 'and there I was this morning joking about him being the reduplicate policeman.'

'The tautonym,' Holly suggested.

'The taut what?' Gail asked.

'It's a common naming convention in zoology but actually forbidden in biology, but when the same word is used for both the species and genus it's called a tautonym.'

'Yeah,' Alannah agreed, 'like rattus rattus.'

Gail grinned. 'I think we've just found a new name for Officer Officer.'

…..

'What you doing, Peck?'

It was after dinner—Frankie, despite her protests about healthy crap, had managed a second helping without any difficulty. Holly had gone upstairs to do some work while Alannah and Gail cleaned up and Frankie sat on her ass with the excuse she'd done all the driving that day.

'Thought it was pretty obvious. I'm guessing you've seen this handy household device before,' Gail held up the iron.

'Yeah but clearly Holly hasn't,' Frankie said. She pointed at the ironing board, 'those aren't your pants.'

'Ever the detective,' Gail scowled, 'Holly has court tomorrow.'

'And you're ironing her clothes because—' Frankie broke off and looked at Gail expectantly.

Gail shrugged. 'Ironing's not Holly's thing but Elaine made damn sure I knew how to put a crease in a pair of trousers.'

'That's sweet,' Alannah said, 'not the Elaine part but that you do that for Holly.'

Out of habit Gail started to scowl, then stopped. There was something about Alannah that made her less guarded. It was weird and kind of refreshing too because sometimes Gail wondered if Holly was the only person in the entire world she could open up to.

Frankie started laughing. 'Jesus Peck, you are hen-pecked. You cook, you clean, you iron. What does Holly do in return?'

'Plenty,' Gail said a touch defensively.

Frankie arched an eyebrow like it was a challenge. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her boots up on the table.

'Frankie,' Alannah said warningly.

'You know stuff,' Gail said. She finished with the trousers, which she draped expertly over a clothes hanger, and was making a start on Holly's shirt, which unusually was a crisp white. Most of Holly's shirts were coloured but for court she liked to keep it simple. You don't want to distract a jury with a lurid outfit she'd explained to Gail. White said you were serious and professional, and it didn't hurt that it set off Holly's olive skin.

She was such a sexy nerd Gail bet she had all the jurors eating out of her hand. Gail certainly would be if she were on the jury. It didn't hurt that Holly had this knack of explaining science in a way that not only made sense but was also enthralling and before long you found yourself swept up by her enthusiasm. Gail sometimes teased that she was the Brian Cox of forensics and really should have her own TV show. Plus she had a brain the size of a planet and regularly ran rings around defence lawyers. It made Holly a compelling witness and a favourite among the prosecutors.

'Oh I get it, sex,' Frankie drawled, 'whipped, that's what you are hen-pecked Peck.'

'Holly,' Gail paused and put the iron down. She bit her lip and appeared to be quite lost in thought, her gazed fixed on something in the middle distance. All at once she blew out a breath and turned to Frankie, like she'd settled on something. Then she started to speak in a way that was ethereal yet sure, her voice soft and the words seeming to take shape of their own accord.

'Holly keeps my feet warm at night,' Gail said, 'she holds me when I wake from a nightmare about Perick, even when I'm soaked with sweat, and waits for me to fall back asleep. She never forgets I can't eat raw tomatoes and hate eggs. She rubs my back when it's sore after a long day at work and makes me promise to wake her when I come in after working nights. She calls me on my shit but in the nicest possible way so I actually listen to what she has to say,' Gail paused.

Alannah and Frankie looked at her expectantly. They were completely still, as if conscious that a sudden movement might break the spell and Gail would stop speaking altogether. You could literally hear a pin drop in the kitchen. The only sounds the low hum of the refrigerator and the intermittent puff of steam from the iron, which started as a weirdly truncated gurgle and, as the vapour escaped, morphed into a soft pfft pfft noise.

'Holly makes me laugh,' Gail began again, 'especially at the dumb shit people do, including me. She tolerates Elaine but doesn't let her overstep. She makes me feel like I belong and that life can be wonderful. And crazily and luckily for me, Holly loves me for who I am, every part of me, even the difficult and broken bits, and she doesn't judge or try to change me. She makes me feel like I'm someone worth loving. And most of all, she shows me that I can love someone like that, unconditionally, absolutely. So yeah, Holly does plenty. And this ironing,' Gail waved her hand dismissively at the ironing board, 'well, let's just say I think I'm getting the better deal.'

For a moment Frankie and Alannah didn't say anything. Maybe she'd stunned them into silence. Stupefied them. Actually, at the moment, that might be a better description of her. The only person more surprised that Frankie and Alannah by Gail's candour was Gail herself. Now she'd finished speaking, something very much like panic was rising in her chest and she wished Frankie or Alannah would say something, anything. Then again who knew what they might say. Well, Frankie was guaranteed to make her feel like she'd just made an idiot of herself. Maybe she could convince Frankie and Alannah that she was having an out of body experience or was in a fugue state. That could explain it. Then maybe they wouldn't think her so foolish. Then again maybe she could just bang the iron into her forehead repeatedly.

'I thought Holly was the rambler,' Frankie finally said.

Gail rolled her eyes. Why had she divulged so much? Was it just because she resented Frankie's implication that Holly didn't do anything for her? Gail didn't make a habit of revealing her feelings, well only to Holly and usually when they were alone. She knew from bitter past experience that owning up to feelings made you vulnerable, that people sometimes used what you said in an unguarded moment of tenderness against you, but for some reason of late her feelings seemed to be slipping out unbidden.

'That was beautiful,' Alannah said quietly, 'you're lucky to have found each other.'

'I'm lucky Holly gave me a second chance,' Gail said, flicking her eyes across to Frankie. Alannah followed her gaze. 'I'm a big fan of second chances.'

'But both of you wanted it to work,' Alannah said.

'True,' Gail shifted her gaze back to the doctor, 'and I'm lucky Holly makes allowances for the fact I'm emotionally stunted.'

'Hardly,' Alannah smiled, 'I know my share of emotionally challenged people and believe me you're not one.'

'Hmm,' Gail said non-committedly. She'd resumed the ironing and now put the finishing touches on Holly's shirt. 'Well, I going to bed.' She looked across at Frankie and nodded but the detective barely responded. She seemed to be in a mood. Alannah noticed it too and smiled weakly at Gail as she left the room.

Frankie was in Chloe's old room. Gail and Holly had turned it into the guest room when Chloe moved out. Frankie guessed they would transform it into a nursery before too long. When she and Gail had had their thing, children had never been mentioned. Not that that was surprising. Gail was still smarting from losing Sophie. Smarting—who was Frankie kidding—Gail had been grieving. It was just that the grief was rolled up in a big ball of sorrow that kind of snowballed—losing Holly, Steve's betrayal, the pieces Perick took and all the other hurts that over the years had layered on.

Gail drank a lot then and was reckless. Too eager to be the first in when there was a bust and always up for casual sex. In the face of that promiscuity, Frankie convinced herself it was better she took Gail home at the end of the night than a random stranger. At least she'd never hurt Gail. They might snipe and carp at each other, but Frankie had gone out of her way not to be like any of the others. It was why she was such an asshole to Holly when she showed up at that conference in Chicago. How did she know the forensic pathologist wasn't gong to mess up Gail again?

Frankie was pulling off her boots when Alannah came back from the bathroom. She was dressed in a t-shirt supplied by Holly and seemed tentative. Frankie hated that. Hated that she eventually did that to all her girlfriends. Like they were scared to spook her. It reminded her of her mother. Always walking around on eggshells, making sure the kids kept quiet and out of the way. It didn't take much to set those guys off—Sherry just had to look at them the wrong way. That string of no-hopers Sherry shacked up with—failure making them violent and cruel and hateful, each and every one of them a fucking misogynist. Frankie swore nobody would do that to her.

Alannah was hovering by the door, holding her folded clothing.

'Should I sleep on the couch,' Frankie offered.

'Is that what you want?' Alannah asked. She looked directly at Frankie, not tentative anymore but challenging. It unnerved Frankie. She realized that what she'd taken as timorousness was a quiet resolve like Alannah had decided on something.

'That's not why I'm asking,' Frankie said, hating the self-righteousness in her tone and the biliousness, 'it seems like you don't even want to be in the same room as me, let alone share a bed.'

Alannah stared at her hard. Frankie couldn't figure out what her expression meant. She needed Gail here to interpret—she was good at reading people, well except when she was getting back with Holly, then she seemed to flounder almost as much as Frankie. Not that Frankie ever admitted she floundered. Oh no. She was Frankie Anderson. Player extraordinaire. A legend in bed. Heart of stone. Untouchable. If she said those things often enough, she might even believe them.

'So it's probably better if I sleep on the couch.' Frankie found herself faltering under Alannah's gaze.

She wished she were braver. She wished she could be like Gail, so sure of her feelings and so certain they were reciprocated she could just blurt them out like that in the kitchen while she was doing the goddamm ironing. Frankie might have made a stupid joke about Gail rambling but in truth she admired and even envied her. But being open like that, it made you vulnerable. It meant people could stomp all over your heart. Frankie knew that. How many times had she seen it happen to her mother? How many times had her mother done it to her? How many times had it happened to Gail?

When Frankie met her, Gail was quite shutdown. That first time they'd had sex, well immediately after, Gail had looked sad and small. Frankie didn't know then that she was the first after Holly. She'd made some acerbic comment about Gail's glum face and Gail had taken it as a challenge, pushing Frankie back down on the bed to make her come again, Gail's hands rough and impatient and sure and Frankie couldn't get enough of her. After that Gail never shown that face to Frankie again. The walls back up. It didn't bother Frankie because Frankie knew about walls, had her own firmly in place and so couldn't very well criticise Gail for putting up barriers.

Last night after everyone had left, and Gail and Holly had gone upstairs to bed, Frankie asked Alannah to stay. 'It's late,' she'd muttered, not looking Alannah in the eye, and feeling like a callow teenager, shuffling and awkward. She didn't get why Alannah made her act this way.

In bed they lay side by side, not touching. Frankie was certain that just like her Alannah was staring at the ceiling. She could only just make it out in the darkness, which meant they were literally looking at nothing. A void. Frankie decided that was apt seeing as both literally and metaphorically she was facing a void. She was convinced Alannah was about to end it. That thought made her heart stutter and stop but instead of telling Alannah that, she was overcome by a weird sort of paralysis. Like the condemned man, hands tied behind his back and his neck in the slack noose, waiting for the hangman.

'You know a surgeon at work asked me out today,' Alannah said finally, her voice surprisingly conversational. 'On a date,' she added in case Frankie didn't get her meaning, 'a perfectly nice, well-adjusted surgeon who decided she liked me and wasn't afraid to say so.'

Frankie held her breath and, when Alannah didn't continue speaking, asked 'And what did you do?'

'What do you think Frankie,' Alannah's voice remained even but Frankie detected a hint of scorn, 'I told her I have a girlfriend.'

Frankie let out a long breath—loud enough that Alannah must have heard it.

'Thing is, do I have a girlfriend? I saw how you reacted when Gail called you that,' Alannah said, her voice more flat than even now.

'Um,' Frankie said. Her heart was beating wildly and her head was fuzzy and she felt incapable of coherent thought, never mind constructing an intelligible sentence. She wondered if she was having a panic attack. Alannah would know but she couldn't very well ask her. 'Um,' Frankie said again and cursed her inarticulateness. Alannah lay very still but Frankie could feel her drawing away. It was like Frankie was on a shore and Alannah was retreating further and further until she was nothing but a speck on the horizon, a judder where the sky met the earth.

'You know we don't need labels,' Frankie said, finding her voice and settling on this obfuscation. It might convince Alannah. Sophistry, that's what her English teacher in 11th grade had called it. She was young and beautiful and straight out of university and apparently straight and Frankie had fucked her and then fucked her over, but by then she had already started on her trail of broken hearts.

Alannah sighed. Not angrily, no to Frankie it sounded like resignation. Frankie felt something constrict inside her which later, as she lay awake staring at that ceiling or at least where she imagined the ceiling to be, she recognised as guilt and a deep, deep sorrow. It wasn't like anything she'd experienced before and the unfamiliarity of it threw her. Tentatively, she reached out and felt for Alannah's hand but Alannah shifted onto her side, pulling the covers up high around her neck, her back to Frankie.

'Good night Frankie,' she said brusquely.

In the morning Frankie had to leave early and Alannah didn't stir, even when Frankie pressed a kiss to her forehead. But Alannah hadn't said anything about leaving. Not last night and not this morning. That was positive, right, Frankie reasoned. She'd been granted a reprieve but for what? To fuck it all up again? Really she should resent Gail, and Holly too, for showing her up—the yardstick by which Alannah measured their relationship and found it—well Frankie—wanting.

Upstairs Gail did a face plant on the bed. She was an idiot. Really, she should never open her mouth around anyone but Holly. Gail didn't move when she heard Holly come out of the bathroom but buried her head further into the pillow. Then the bed dipped a little and next thing Holly was lying on top of her and placing soft little kisses behind her ear and on her neck. They were like a balm, these kisses, soothing the feverish racing in her head and Gail found herself relaxing a little. The way Holly's body blanketed her own comforted Gail too and she could feel herself coming out of the head spiral as Holly referred to it. The place Gail went when her self-doubt and insecurities got the better of her. In her truly dark moments it was perhaps should be more aptly named the vortex of despair.

'I heard,' Holly said in a low voice, 'I came downstairs and I heard what you said to Frankie and Alannah.'

'I'm an idiot,' Gail groaned, crashing her head onto the pillow.

'Not the word that springs to mind,' Holly replied a little teasingly.

'Yeah, what then,' Gail huffed, her voice muffled by the pillow.

'Oh, there are so many words. Amazing is definitely one,' Holly said, then her voice became lower still, 'but perhaps I could show you.' She scrapped her teeth against Gail's earlobe and then dropped her body down so she was flush with Gail, one hand trailing up Gail's leg to her hip.

Gail couldn't help it, arching back to push her ass into Holly. Already she could feel the wetness between her legs.

'For the record this is not avoidance sex,' Holly murmured.

'Well, it has been over twenty-four hours since we last fucked,' Gail drawled, 'and there was talk about a raincheck.'

Holly laughed throatily and moved her hand to the waistband of Gail's jeans, popping the button and pushing her hand in. She drifted her fingers down the outside of Gail's boy shorts, feeling for her clit through the material. Gail gave a sharp intake of breath and felt Holly smile against her neck. When Holly touched her, it was like her body had a will of its own. Gail moved so she was resting on her arms, elbows and knees bent. The position gave Holly better access but after a moment she said, 'you have too many clothes on,' and started to strip Gail of her top and bra.

Gail still didn't turn around, enjoying the fact of Holly taking charge. Once Gail was naked and back on all fours, Holly slipped two fingers inside her, and used her other hand to cup Gail's breast, squeezing it gently and then tweaking her nipple roughly, the contrast in touch producing the most delicious of sensations. Holly bit down on Gail's shoulder, sending a vibration through Gail's body that went all the way to her clit. The bite would leave a mark on her pale skin, Gail knew that, but didn't care.

'I'm going to do this very, very slowly,' Holly husked. Gail bit her lip and nodded, content to cede control to Holly, in fact extremely turned on by it. Given her level of arousal, Gail had a feeling this would be anything but slow. Not that she would tell Holly that.

Later, much later, in fact way too late given tomorrow was a work day, Gail smiled down at Holly, dipping her head to kiss her. Holly pulled Gail against her. They were both naked and a little sweaty from their exertions, pleasantly spent and very close to sleep.

'That was,' Holly pronounced breathily, 'amazing. You are amazing. Sometimes I feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure this —you—us—is real.'

Gail chuckled. 'Nerd,' she said fondly and kissed Holly again, 'you Holly Stewart allowed my heart to grow.'

Most people had thought that impossible. After all Gail hadn't got the nickname Ice Queen for nothing. Not Holly. She saw Gail had a heart worth fighting for.

Alannah shook her head, looked away from Frankie and sighed. 'You'll never change,' she said quietly. Frankie hated the resignation in her tone, wished Alannah could at least be bitter. It would make what Frankie was about to do a lot easier.

'Is that why you came over to see Holly tonight, to talk about how once a fuck up always a fuck up.' She spat it out. Best form of defence is attack. That was Frankie's motto. She found herself returning to a familiar grove – well worn and predictable – a place where she didn't have to think about what Alannah was asking of her but knew exactly what she needed to do. Crush expectations. Crush hope. Crush any feelings of attachment or worse love. Oh, she was expert at that.

'Actually, I came to ask Holly's advice about how to make it work with you. You see, I thought you and Gail were alike but after tonight, after hearing the way Gail spoke about Holly, I realize I was wrong, you two are nothing alike.'

'Well, maybe you and Holly should work out a time-share arrangement for Gail. She's an excellent fuck.'

It was intended to be crude and cruel and it was. Alannah didn't flinch, but there was a flicker in her eyes that went as quickly as it came, and then it was like Alannah had pulled the shutters down, her eyes giving nothing. What was Frankie doing pushing Alannah away? It was what Frankie always did. Couldn't let anyone get too close. Couldn't let them see what was in her heart or actually what wasn't. Maybe that was the real void.

'I'm going home,' Alannah said.

Frankie watched as Alannah pulled on her jeans and then sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots. Frankie tried to think of something snarky to say, something that would make Alannah want to run from the room and never look back. Inextricably nothing came to mind—no sharp retort or biting putdown. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Normally by now she'd be going in for the kill, watching the other person's anguish with an indifference that sometimes even frightened her. Gail joked about being a sociopath but maybe Frankie really was.

'Don't,' Frankie spoke as Alannah stood.

'What?'

'Don't go. I want you to stay.'

'Frankie, there is no point. I'll save you saying it. We want different things and I'm done with dancing around you.'

'I, I want what you want. I want to be with you for-' Frankie blurted out and then stopped. She'd been on the verge of saying forever.

'For what?' Alannah looked sceptical.

'I want to be with you for as long as you'll put up with me.'

Alannah's face softened a fraction.

'I mean it. Normally I would have cut and run by now. I would have lined up the next person and even the one for after that, maybe even be seeing both of them. But I don't want to do that with you. In fact the opposite and if you want to know the truth, it kinda scares the shit out of me.'

'Yeah'

'Yeah,' Frankie took a deep breath. It was now or never. She was certain of that, certain that if she let this opportunity pass she'd not only lose Alannah but any chance of loving someone. 'I, I love you.' Frankie was surprised how easy it was to say those words and, as they tumbled out, she didn't feel queasy or panicked and the world didn't come crashing about her. Actually, Alannah was smiling at her and all Frankie felt was relief, like a burden had been lifted, and something else that seemed suspiciously like happiness.

'You do?' Alannah asked.

'Yeah,' Frankie replied, still a little dazed by the admission.

'You looked shocked,' Alannah smiled.

'It's just, well I've never said that to anyone before,' Frankie said, which made Alannah's smile widen even more.

As Frankie pulled out on the road, Gail yawned.

'Couldn't sleep,' Frankie asked sympathetically, clearly thinking Francine was weighing on Gail's mind.

Gail turned abruptly and looked out the window to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. At least it meant Frankie and Alannah hadn't heard them last night. Holly had been particularly vocal, especially that second time, and even though her temporary roommates were one floor down, Gail was convinced it would have woken them.

'Oh,' Frankie said knowingly, 'oh I see. I thought you and the doctor were laying off sex for a while.'

'Frankie,' Gail huffed, turning back to face the detective, 'we are not having this conversation. I'm not talking to you about me and Holly and sex. Anyway it wasn't like that.'

'Yeah,' Frankie sounded unconvinced but Gail knew her friend well enough to recognise she was just jerking her around. 'It must be something to do with that house.'

'What do you mean?' Gail screwed up her face in confusion.

'It's conducive to sex. I told Alannah I loved her and let's just say she, ah, showed her appreciation.'

'Frankie, number one, stop talking like a frat boy, and number two, I hope you didn't tell Alannah that just so you could get some.'

'What! No!' Frankie protested. Such was her outrage she nearly ploughed into the car in front of them and had to brake so hard she and Gail lurched forward jarringly. The guy in the car behind them leaned on the horn —a long, loud blare that didn't let up so Frankie flipped the siren. Just briefly but enough so the horn stopped abruptly.

'Asshat,' Gail said, 'if I wasn't in such a good mood I'd book his ass.'

Frankie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. 'It's your fault.'

'What,' Gail spluttered, 'I didn't make you take your eyes off the road.'

'No. Not that. What I told Alannah. It was the speech in the kitchen—it made me think. I never had that. I never expected that, then Alannah came along and—' Frankie stopped and twisted her mouth.

'And you didn't know what to do with all that,' Gail said like she understood.

'Yeah. Exactly. It wasn't in my realm of experience. I mean when you and I had our thing, I thought maybe there was something to it but there wasn't.'

'And thank god because imagine how much more bitter and twisted we would have ended up.'

'Speak for yourself Peck,' Frankie said.

Gail arched an eyebrow.

'Okay, yeah, you're right,' Frankie conceded, 'but those things you said last night, it made me think about what Alannah meant. Don't laugh, but I realized I can't imagine not having her in my life and I've never felt that way about anyone.'

Gail grinned knowingly.

'What,' Frankie snarled.

'I could have told you—it was kinda obvious.'

'So why didn't you,' Frankie asked, sounding annoyed Gail had kept her in the dark.

'You needed to figure it out for yourself.'

'When were you appointed the relationship guru,' Frankie grumbled.

'Not claiming to be,' Gail grinned and held up her hands in an appeasing gesture, 'I'm still figuring it out myself.'

So maybe being so open with Frankie and Alannah hadn't been such a bad thing after all. At least Frankie wasn't giving her shit about it. If anything, it seemed Frankie was a little defensive. The detective hated not knowing how to act—for all her talk of heedlessly moving from one girlfriend to the next, Frankie was actually attracted to certainty and familiarity, the unknown tended to freak her out.

Frankie liked to be in control of all aspects of her life—when they'd first slept together, she informed Gail she was a top and Gail had told her 'fuck that ' and flipped her over to take a turn in dominance. After that there was a little more give and take, although sometimes Gail did feel like it became a battle of wills. Didn't stop Frankie coming back for more. They all did when it was just about sex, Gail thought. Guys had always assumed dominance by default but she didn't let them get away with that either.

It wasn't like that with Holly—there was never any need to negotiate sex. Sometimes one was more dominant than the other, but in the main, just like their relationship, it was a meeting of equals. Gail smiled at that. Equals. It had taken her a long time to accept that, to get over her conviction she wasn't good enough for Holly. God knows she'd gone out of her way to ensure it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. If Lisa hadn't turned up at the Penny with her snide digs and a face so haughty it may as well as had supercilious stamped on it, then Gail would have found another way to sabotage the relationship. Quite possibly wrecked it completely to guarantee there were no second chances. Nuked it rather than thrown a few incendiary bombs, razed everything to the ground rather than just start a spot fire.

'I booked an appointment with that therapist,' Frankie said abruptly and in such an apparently disinterested way that Gail recognised it signalled this was the beginning and end of the discussion.

They arrived at 15 soon after. As Frankie got out of the car, she said, 'you know what Peck. I decided if someone like you can make it work with Holly, then I can make it work with Alannah.'

Gail rolled her eyes. 'Didn't realize it was a competition,' she muttered but Frankie was already on the sidewalk and didn't hear. 'Someone like me?' she mouthed and shook her head. Frankie Anderson had some nerve.

….

Gail sighed as she parked in front of the house. It had been a long and frustrating day interviewing friends of both Melanie and Mitchell. All of them said the same thing. The two were perfect for each other, deliriously happy. Melanie was about to move in with Mitchell and there was a feeling marriage was on the cards. Melanie hadn't given up on the idea of children either, one of her friends, a pert little red head called Beth, had said.

You know Melanie lost a baby when she was with that brute,' Beth told Gail and Frankie.

'Lost? You mean miscarried?' Frankie asked.

'Technically but only after Keith pushed her down the stairs.'

'He pushed her down the stairs?' Gail was suddenly alert.

'Yep, she was lucky to survive. She broke her ribs and an ankle and ruptured her spleen. She looked like she'd been in a car accident, but it was what made her finally leave Keith. You know what, it wouldn't surprise me if he murdered her. He was very controlling and he didn't take her leaving well.'

'Did Keith threaten Melanie after they separated?' Gail asked.

'Didn't get a chance. Melanie took out a restraining order and moved back home for a while. If Keith had dared come near the house, I don't like to think what Bernie would have done to him.'

Should they be looking at Keith, Gail had wondered. His alibi checked out, but still maybe it would be worth bringing him in for an interview.

Before getting out of the car, Gail did a quick scan of the street. With Francine on the loose, it paid to be cautious. Was she destined to live a life shadowed by psychos, Gail wondered? How many actual psychos were there in the world because the Gail to psycho ratio seemed a lot out of whack.

'Hey, you're home,' Gail said as she came in through the front door, happy now she knew Holly was back.

Holly was standing in the hallway with a stack of mail in her hand. 'Yeah, just got in ahead of you,' she leaned in to kiss Gail, 'are we minus out babysitter tonight?'

'She's coming by later. Alannah too.'

Holly raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

'They've made up. Frankie came clean about her feelings.'

'About time. Did she actually use the 'l' word.'

'Why so coy, if you mean love, then yes,' Gail teased.

'Really?' Holly said, 'you know I'm glad. Maybe Frankie will stop being such an ass now.'

'We live in hope,' Gail quipped and nodded towards the mail, 'anything interesting?'

'Bills,' Holly shrugged.

'And how was court,' Gail took a step towards Holly and placed her hands on her hips, 'did you dazzle them with your sexy nerdiness?'

'Ha, I dazzled them with science. I'd be surprised if we don't get a conviction. So to celebrate, how about I make dinner for you tonight?'

'Sounds good,' Gail kissed Holly and then released her hold on her, watching as Holly walked towards the kitchen. Man, she looked good in her court outfit. The tailored trousers hugged her ass just right and—

'Stop checking out my ass, Peck,' Holly called over her shoulder but put an extra swing in her hips just for Gail's benefit.

'Wasn't,' Gail protested weakly as she followed Holly, 'anyway, aren't I supposed to check out your ass. I am your girlfriend.'

Holly laughed as she plonked the mail on the table, holding onto the largest—a wide brown envelope with her name and address written in capitals. The block letters looked angry—big and definite and impossible to ignore in the way all caps in text messages meant you were yelling. Odd, thought Gail, but before she could caution against opening the envelope, Holly had ripped the seal. At least nothing had gone boom, Gail thought wryly, internally rolling her eyes at her paranoia. Francine had them all on edge. But Holly's face had gone white and she wasn't saying anything and it took a moment for Gail to catch on that everything wasn't all right.

'What,' she said, moving to Holly's side.

Holly held out a photograph. It was one that had been on refrigerator, except it wasn't quite. It was taken on their last vacation—Gail remembered that day, the lazy start in bed, the late breakfast and the return to bed and then Holly dragging her to the beach and Insisting on a selfie as she did everyday. 'I want a record of this holiday,' she'd laughed and Gail had grumbled good-naturedly but gone along with it happily because it was what Holly wanted and that was reason enough.

You could see the blue of the ocean behind them, shimmering where the sunlight hit it, and Holly had a wide, wide smile and looked relaxed and tanned and carefree and in love. It was one of Gail's favourite photos of the two of them, except this photo—the one Holly was holding–‑wasn't of the two of them. Francine had superimposed her head where Gail's should be.