Where are we all going to go from here? The story needs some mending and a better happy ending. There are some time jumps in here.

"Peck, visitor."

Steve looked up at the guard. "Me?"

"No other Pecks here."

That was true. All the other Pecks were under house arrest or locked up in other prisons. Worse prisons. He lucked out in minimum security lockup for now. Wait his time, serve his time, and go back into the world by spring.

Of course, in the five months he'd been there, no one had visited him. At all. He followed the guard down the hall to the waiting room. Sitting at a table was a woman with dark hair and a slouchy sweater, reading a magazine. Steve stared. "Gail?" He hadn't seen his sister for half a year. Since before he'd been sentenced.

Actually he thought Gail had been avoiding him. But he knew his sister. The hair was different, the body posture was different. She'd been gone. Not avoiding him, just gone.

His sister looked up at him and frowned, "Well you look bad."

Steve touched his face. He was sporting a few bruises from being roughed up. "They're not very keen on Guns and Gangs behind bars." He sat down across the table. Minimum security didn't mean that it was any safer for him, but he had his time to bide. "I thought you were avoiding me, but you were... Gone."

"Yeah, I was in Vancouver," replied Gail.

"What's in Vancouver besides not enough snow for an Olympics?"

Gail smiled briefly. He remembered that smile. "It was more what wasn't in Vancouver. I was working with IA on a sting there. Keep me out of Toronto."

That made some sense. "I'm sorry." He had tried so hard to keep the shit from splattering over his baby sister.

She shook her head and looked down at her hands. "What did they tell you? About the… Pecks?"

Steve sighed. "Not much. Just that I shouldn't expect to see Mom and Dad anytime soon."

His sister snorted a laugh. "Yeah. That's fun." She looked away for a moment. "I did that," Gail said quietly.

What? Steve looked at her. "You... You mean when Dad...?" He trailed off as she nodded. Jesus. Steve leaned back. "Gail. Why..."

Gail shook her head. "No, no, Steve you don't get to do that. I know what you did."

He winced. "You didn't have to do that, though."

"Yes I did," she said firmly. "Because you didn't. Because you, Steve, you protected me. But that was it." Gail was bitter and angry. Mad.

Steve hung his head. So. She knew. "I couldn't let them do that to you." Because the truth was that it hadn't been Santana who turned him. It had been long ago. Longer ago. When his parents told him to take the deal. To do the work. Because they'd told him what to do in school, in college, and in the academy.

And Steve had always listened to his parents. He was the loved son because he did what they wanted. Gail did anything but. She studied literature in college, and as long as her criminal justice classes didn't suffer, their parents didn't stop her. They made dinners a living hell, but they didn't stop her. When she didn't get into the academy (Steve was sure she'd failed the test on purpose), they'd used her godfather to grease the wheels. Sure, Gail graduated top of the class, but it was the defiance. The principle of the defiance.

She looked away. "Do you remember when I was 7 and I cut my leg up at the cottage?" Without looking back at him or waiting for a response, she went on. "I was bleeding all over, and you carried me back."

"I remember," he said softly.

"You were always doing that. Protecting me. Helping me." She spread her hands on the table and stared at them. "Was that what Frankie was for?"

He winced. "Oh. I didn't ask her to …" Steve stopped and sighed. "Yes, I tried to set you guys up, but I didn't — she did the whole cover up on her own."

Gail studied his face for a while and then nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry, Gail," he whispered. Again. He was so sorry. "You didn't..."

"Sleep with Frankie? Actually... Yes. Twice. She was not as good as advertised, by the way. You're about as good as Mom for picking dates."

Steve smiled sadly. "It wasn't... You know I actually didn't know she was in on this too. I didn't know about most of it."

His sister nodded. "I know. It's weird. You were all isolated, which I guess is why it took someone who could see it all from the outside to figure it out." She sighed. "How... Um. How are you?"

"I'm okay. Weirdly. I get tossed into walls a lot. It's like high school." The ginger kid had been picked on a lot. "Am I going to get to see you more often?"

Gail's eyes flickered back at him. "I don't know how long I'll be here for," she told him. "They're still going over all your cases and I really can't be around for that."

"Still?"

"They have to check with forensics because one of them used to date a Peck," Gail grumbled.

No one had dated a lab nerd. Except Gail. "Holly's in town," he realized.

"Yeah, I'm hiding out until she's gone." She lapsed into silence.

Steve looked down. "I'm sorry. For everything Garbage Pail."

Gail shook her head. "I thought you'd be out by now. How long is 'slap on the wrist' anyway?"

"Another six months probably. I may get out early for good behavior." He watched her think about that. "Mom and Dad still on house arrest?"

She snorted. "I don't think they'd survive in prison. Do you?"

Steve shook his head. "And you? Are you surviving Toronto?"

For a moment, Gail didn't answer. Then it looked like she was going to say everything was fine. But in the end, his sister shook her head. "No," she whispered. "It hurts. Everyone hates me."

"It won't be any better when I get out, Gail." She nodded at him, sadly. "You knew that."

"I did," she admitted. "What else could I do, Steve?"

He frowned. "You could have let it die, Gail. There was no way they were going to get that started up again. Santana was never going to turn on them."

Gail scowled. "That's so fucking stupid," she snapped. "It was wrong. That was against everything they told us to be growing up. Be better than everyone else! Know who you are! Don't screw up! How the hell could you look at yourself in the mirror?"

Honestly? He didn't. Steve couldn't remember the last time he looked himself in the eye in the mirror, literally or metaphorically. "Don't pin this on me, Gail. You made the choice."

"Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again. Because I'm loyal, Steven. I'm not a lot of things. I'm not a good person. I'm not nice. But I'm loyal." She took a deep breath. "And I'm not a liar. I can't be… I can't just let that be."

It wasn't naiveté in her words. Gail was dead serious that she knew what the right thing to do was, and she took what came with it. Just as he took his lumps and paid for it in jail, she was letting people hate her to do what was right. "I wish I was as brave as you," he sighed.

Gail looked down at his hands. "I wish you had been too."

They were at dentate. Steve changed the subject. "Tell me about Vancouver."

So she did. She told him how she'd been undercover with Juliet, the IA spy Noelle brought in. They'd worked on catching dirty cops smuggling evidence and selling it. And Gail had really enjoyed it. She lit up telling him about it, about how she'd been herself, the disgraced cop. But then they'd come back, a success, and in Vancouver, she'd been welcomed.

"They were happy, Steve. They were happy to see me. They're still losers, but ... They had my back. They went to the wall for me. They barely knew me."

He leaned back and smiled. "You should go."

"What?"

"Vancouver. They obviously want you. You should take the job."

Gail shook her head, "Steve, I'm not going anywhere."

"Why not? What the hell's keeping you here?"

She stared at him. "Steve... I'm a Peck. I'm ... I'm literally the last one in Toronto policing."

Steve rolled his eyes. "And what has that ever given you, Gail? Or me? It sucks our lives away. It's always treated us like shit." He pointed at her. "You don't owe anyone here anything. Not even me."

Gail blinked and then looked away. "Steven..."

"Look. Let me do this, please? This one thing. Because I can't make anything better. But I can make you stop doing the wrong thing." He leaned forward. "Do this for you, Gail. Forget Pecks, forget everything, forget me. Do this for you."

They looked at each other access the table. Gail's eyes wide and a little wondering. At last, he'd finally managed to do something right. He'd given her an idea. He'd given his sister hope.

It had been a strange day, her last day working with everyone in Toronto had wrung Holly out. Probably because it had been the first and only day she had to work with Gail. One last, 'we forgot about this one' case to review. Vinnie the Quitter. A case Guns and Gangs had been in charge of.

They'd sat on opposite sides of a table, with IA on one side and lawyers on the other, and ended up going over the two cases they'd worked together. Two. Gail had freely admitted to her attempt to get Rodney to rehydrate the thumb in their second case together, but also explained she'd been avoiding Holly since their breakup. The older officer on Gail's side, Inspector Williams, had sighed a little at that and given Gail a scolding look. But they'd both been dismissed quickly. Robbie Robbins was barely a blip.

As Holly was leaving the station, she'd bumped into Gail again. Innocently. She hadn't meant to. Actually she'd been trying like hell to avoid Gail, who clearly had no interest in reconnecting even as friends.

But surprisingly, it was Gail who smiled awkwardly as she pulled on her coat. "Listen. I'm sorry I was such a brat the other night," she said earnestly.

"It was a bad night," agreed Holly. "If I was living with this, I might be a bitch too."

Gail snorted. "You? No, you'd smile and just prove them wrong with your big brain and science."

The smile that crossed her face was spontaneous. "Probably."

In the reflection of the smile, Gail flushed a little. "I'm, uh, I'm done. For the day."

Holly had not forgotten how to read between the lines when talking to Gail. She would never really ask for help. "Do you… need a lift back to Lisa's?"

Gail exhaled. "Yeah. That would be okay. Nice. That would be nice. Sorry."

Shaking her head, Holly started to walk to her rental. "You need to stop saying sorry. It sounds like you're a pod-person."

"I'll work on that," laughed Gail quietly.

They ended up lapsing into silence on the drive to Lisa's townhouse. In a surprising moment, Gail asked if she could buy Holly a coffee to say thank you. They walked to the nearby hipster shop and then back in near silence. It was nice to just be around Gail again without the oppressive weight of policing sitting on them.

Again, Gail spoke first, "So. Traci yelled at me."

Holly wrinkled her nose. "Oh?"

"Yeah… after she told me off for not warning her about all this, she mentioned you... Apparently you said you needed to know how I was?" There was a look of confusion on Gail's face, as if not sure why anyone would be concerned with her wellbeing.

Nodding, Holly admitted, "I did… I do." She paused and asked, "How are you?"

"Fine. I think." Gail pulled her badge out of her pocket. "Got this back. Officially and everything. They promoted me and want me to be a detective."

Holly nodded. She wanted to know if Gail was staying or not, but she just couldn't bear to ask that. She was afraid the answer was no and then she'd never see the woman again. "Good. You look good. Except the hair. I don't know about the hair," she smiled.

Gail touched her head and laughed. "I'm going back to my natural color in a bit."

"I meant the cut, actually. The color's kind of … um. It suits you in a weird way." Holly grinned and was rewarded with the real kind of smile from Gail. The ones she'd missed. "Why did we stop talking?"

Looking up, the cop exhaled sadly. "I think you said we were at different stages in life? And I needed to grow up and I wouldn't around you."

It hurt to have her words thrown back at her like that, but it was fair. "You also said I was running away instead of dealing," Holly noted.

"You were."

"I was."

"And … so was I," sighed Gail.

Holly studied her face. "What happened with Sophie?"

Her friend (friend?) winced. "After Steve... I didn't have any support. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own drama..."

"And you suck at asking for help," noted Holly.

"That. Yes."

Holly reached over and put her hand on Gail's shoulder. "She's with a good family?"

Not shying away from the touch, Gail nodded. "Great family. Great people."

"You should see her. Now that you're back." And Gail winced. Ah. Holly squeezed the shoulder.

Now Gail twitched away. "Maybe."

They both contemplated their coffee, and Holly changed the subject. "So. You went out with … Frankie?"

"God you would hold on to that." Gail sighed and leaned back. "Yes, I did sleep with her, if that's what you're asking."

It was, but Holly didn't exactly want to admit that. "No." She paused. "Yes."

And Gail laughed softly. "Did you?"

Holly turned bright red. "How the hell—" She stopped and stared at Gail. "She told you?"

Nodding Gail sipped her coffee. "She did. We were talking about ex's and she mentioned most of hers tended to skip town or be in love with someone else." Holly grimaced. "She also said something about how you missed out on the best sex of your life—"

"Oh my god," laughed Holly, shoving Gail's shoulder. "I did not sleep with her."

Gail smiled softly. "That would have been awkward." Then she asked, "It's wrong that I'm happy about that, isn't it?"

Rolling her coffee cup between her palms, Holly shook her head. "No. No. That would way too weird." She paused. "I did kiss her." Frankie had been a very, very, brief, two date fling, before Holly had even met Gail.

With a shrug, Gail went on, "What about Lisa? We never had that conversation, did we?"

Holly blinked. "The one about who we slept with. No." She smiled though. "I have not slept with Lisa or Rachel." Then she added, "I did make out with Lisa. Once. We were drunk and twenty."

Gail made a face. "That's gross. You kissed Boob Job. And Frankie."

"You're the one who slept with her."

Laughing at herself, Gail remarked, "God it wasn't even that good! You didn't miss out on anything special. You were way better."

Holly blinked. "Wait a second. She said…" Her eyes went wide as Gail rolled hers. "Wow. Talk about failing expectations. Why did you sleep with her?"

"Tequila was involved," sighed Gail. "And I needed… something uncomplicated."

The words felt like a blow. "We weren't uncomplicated," Holly admitted.

Gail made a wry face. "She wasn't either, in the end. I mean, hey, I got her arrested, so I win… something on the loser crown. But it wasn't Botched Boob Job, so there's that."

"Why do you call her that," laughed Holly.

"Same reason she calls me Blue Collar. It's how we communicate."

Holly took a deep breath. "So … truth. How bad is it?"

"Well. I don't go to Peck Family Dinners anymore." When Holly snorted a laugh, Gail smiled.

"I meant now that you're back. Not the ... Not your family. Fifteen."

"Oh. It's fine. Lonely." That sounded like a total lie, too.

"Why aren't you staying at the Frat House?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Holl." Gail closed her eyes.

Holly watched Gail's face for a while. Then she asked quietly, "They're still mad at you?"

The other woman didn't open her eyes. "No. It's not that. They've moved on, Holly. And maybe I should too."

"You're leaving," realized Holly. "Vancouver." Because after all they'd been through, Holly still understood what Gail didn't say. She didn't want to rekindle friendships with people only to leave them again.

Gail was quiet for a while. "Probably."

"They'll miss you."

Snorting, Gail looked over. "They can't stand me, Holly. And it's mostly mutual. They see everything that broke up the band in me."

Holly hesitated. "Steve will miss you."

"He might," allowed Gail, sadly. "There's nothing for me here, Holly. No one. Nothing. Sophie's happy with her family. I can't talk to my relatives even if I want to."

"What about Chris?"

Shaking her head, Gail sighed. "He's happy to see me, but he has enough problems." Then she added, "Oliver might."

Quietly, Holly said, "I would."

Gail's lips turned into a slight smile. "You would." She looked up at the sky. "You would. I did. I did a lot, Holly..." Gail's voice got softer. "I did."

She did. "I missed you too, Gail."

"But," sighed Gail. "Not enough to stay. And you had the right idea. Not staying."

Holly hugged her knees and looked at Gail carefully. She didn't see the broken person who'd fallen apart in her bathroom. She didn't see the bitchy cop who'd called her lunchbox. She saw someone else. She saw a mature and confident woman on the edge of a hard choice.

"I think," said Holly. "I think you should do what's right for you."

"Whatever makes me happy," Gail said a little snidely.

"That's not what I mean, Gail." But she smiled.

Gail smiled too. "I know, Holly. I know." With a loud sigh, she stood up and dusted off her jeans. "How long are you in town for?"

Following suit, Holly got up. "They closed the last case. I haven't booked a flight back yet."

"I have to tell Juliet by Monday." Gail looked at Holly. "It was... It was good. To see you again."

"Yeah," nodded Holly. "It was good." She hesitated, her arms slightly out to the side. "I know it's not how you communicate." But Gail smiled and nodded, stepping in to hug Holly warmly. "I know you'll do the right thing, Gail," she whispered. She tried to put everything she felt into that hug. The love she still felt for the cop, certainly, but more it was the thing Gail needed most right now. She needed to know that her right choices wouldn't loose all her friends.

The hug tightened for a moment. "Thank you." In those words, Gail said everything.

Promising to see her at least once before she left, Holly went back to her car, back to her hotel. She knew Gail would do what was right for her. Gail was different than she'd been. It was amazing to see the changes. Holly could love all over again Gail for the changes she undertaken, the changes that fused into who she was, making her someone new.

A phoenix rising from the ashes.

Six Months Later

"Ward, Peck. You've got a case."

Gail kicked back from her desk and grabbed her jacket. It felt right to be back behind a badge. It felt right to be back in blue. It felt right to be in Vancouver She felt better than she had in a long time. Since before Perik. The last five months had been better than good. She finally felt right.

The first month back, they'd sent her to school to catch her up on how they did things in Vancouver. Then she'd had on the job training as a pseudo-rookie (sans tie) in uniform. But before long, she found herself working with vice undercover, working with IA, and finally, now, a detective. In Homicide. With Juliet.

She had found a welcome home in Vancouver. They liked her. They respected her for the work she had done, for the sacrifices she'd made. And Gail found she liked most of them. Unlike the forced camaraderie with the officers in Toronto, this felt like home. Gail was finally home.

"What've we got?" She took the papers from Hayes and skimmed, committing much to memory. A woman found dead in a river. Messy.

"By the way, the new coroner started early," warned Hayes. "Mac broke his ankle."

Handing the papers to Juliet, Gail drove them over to the scene. "I wonder if it's the guy from Manitoba," mused Gail. "The medical examiner." One of the Regional Chief's had up and retired early that moth, leaving a hole in the chain of command. They were borrowing Mac from the next region over, but the interviews had been interesting. Dr. Manitoba had a lazy eye that creeped Gail out.

"Coroner," corrected Juliet. "They're Coroners here. Why does that not stick in that blonde head of yours?"

Gail snorted. She'd dyed her hair again, feeling a whim to return to something more familiar, and cut it to chin length. Juliet teased her that it was because of the quick and ill fated fling she'd had with the sign language teacher. "Because I studied medical jurisprudence," she told Juliet, smirking at the memory.

"You're such a nerd, Gail," laughed her partner.

"Watch it, or I leave you with the body again."

Juliet had the weaker stomach. "Bitch."

"Liar."

They both grinned. "Did you read this?" Juliet waved the papers. "Dead in a river."

"Could be a suicide," mused Gail. "It's downstream from that bridge." They bantered about that as they pulled up to the scene and Gail remembered feeling good about her job and her life. She took a deep breath of the air at the scene, committing the smell of Vancouver in July to memory.

The lab tech called over to the new coroner, squatting by the river in a blue jump suit with Wellies on. "Hey, Doc. The detectives are here."

"Well they can wait till we have a good sample."

The words made Gail freeze. No, not the words. The voice. Juliet looked startled and stared at Gail. "Was that..."

Gail cleared her throat. "Dr. Stewart?" How she managed to keep her voice calm, Gail would never know.

"Pestering does not make science work faster," came the reply.

"Far be it from me to impede on medical jurisprudence." And Gail waited. It only took a second. The head popped up and turned.

Holly fucking Stewart. At least she looked abashed. "Detective Peck... And Ward. Of course."

The lab techs were clearly confused. "We met in Toronto," smoothed Juliet, smiling broadly. "I did not have the chance to work with you, though, Dr. Stewart. If you're half as talented as Gail said, we'll have this solved in no time."

"It's probably a suicide. Initial trauma indicates that, at least," said Holly. And she went into science babble mode. Gail couldn't help the smile on her face. "I'll need X-Rays to confirm, but her legs and pelvis certainly seem shattered. Unless there's evidence of foul play, that would be my preliminary call."

Gail scratched her nose. "There's a bridge a couple miles upriver, popular for jumpers. It's at the high point. Can you tell how long she's been in the water?'

"Based on the water retention and the lack of fish nibbles, I'd estimate at most a week. Gross tissue damage is at a minimum, so predators haven't had a bite yet."

Juliet mouthed 'fish nibbles' at Gail, clearly amused, and asked, "If it was a suicide, will it look like a drowning?"

"Most likely." Holly stood up, mud smeared one knee of her jumpsuit. Then she looked at Gail. "Femur's intact."

Yeah. She had to smile. "Got your water sample in your lunchbox, huh?" When Juliet made a confused noise, Gail explained. "They'll check the water for diatoms. If there are any, she can match them to the ones in the bone marrow. It'll show if she died in the water... How does that work with a body that isn't greasy bones?"

"Less well," admitted Holly, her lips curved in a side smile. "You remembered."

"What can I say? Never too late to brush up on things. Who found the body?"

The uniformed officer pointed to where a shell shocked fisherman sat. He'd been out having a little fun with catch and release. "Doesn't sound like fun for the fish," muttered Juliet. "How about you take that, Gail, and I'll keep with the doc? I seem to need a refresher."

"Suit yourself. Just watch out, she likes to throw big words at you."

Juliet snorted. "What's that supposed to mean, Peck?"

"Means I saw your crossword answers, Ward," she sassed. "Purgatory doesn't have an I." She heard Juliet and Holly both laugh behind her. Gail grinned.

It was a momentary relief not to have to talk to Holly just yet. She wasn't mentally ready. That never seemed to stop life though. She hadn't been ready for the Academy and botched her entrance exam. The only reason Gail had gotten in at all was because her Godfather was the then Chief, and he gently leaned on things for her. She missed him. He'd had a heart attack the same year she'd met Holly, replaced by that idiot Santana.

Gail shoved that out of her head and talked to the shaking fisherman who told her how he'd found the body. Thought it was a big one. It just wasn't the big one he'd thought it was.

They all ended up back in the morgue, though, and the verdict was suicide. Pending blood work confirmation of course.

As Holly started to clean up, Juliet elbowed Gail and raised her eyebrows. "I'll just leave you two," smirked her partner.

Gail could have throttled her. "You don't need me to file the paperwork?"

"No, you won the bet in the car," Juliet reminded her, and vacated.

Holly looked amused. "Bet?"

"It's not… We like to guess in the car, why someone died before we get any evidence. We had a moose attack, which is the weirdest one I've won on."

"Moose." Holly laughed softly and Gail's heart thudded. She'd missed that laugh. "That makes sense in a weird way."

Gail sighed. "So," she looked around the morgue. "First day huh? How's it going?"

The brunette nodded, almost shyly. "Last minute thing. Story of my life." She looked up. "Did not expect to see you today."

"I could tell," Gail smirked. "You babbled. You do that when you're nervous."

Holly looked amused. "I don't even... Are we in the same region?"

"Yeah, I'm literally right upstairs. Fifth floor." They both shared an awkward smile. "Nick's here too. In ERT, so thank god I rarely see him."

"Detective, though." Holly gestured at Gail. "That... You said Homicide was boring."

She had. And of course Holly remembered. "It's lazy work," Gail shrugged. "And you know me. Lazy."

But Holly smiled. "Liar."

"Sometimes." Gail looked around. "It's usually pretty boring, and then you just showed up."

Holly looked momentarily guilty. "I did. It was … I didn't take the job because of you. I mean. Not just because of you. Or at all..."

Nodding, Gail shoved her hands in her pockets. "But you did. You came here. And you knew I was here."

Holly's head bobbed a little. "Lisa told me." They both still talked to Lisa, of course.

"It was probably a last second ask," sighed Gail. "I don't think anyone expected Dr. Gates to retire."

The smile on Holly's face was warm and friendly. "No. They sounded pretty shocked when they called me." She looked back down. "I did come here for the job, Gail. But knowing you were here... it helped make the decision easier."

Gail looked at her quietly. "Lot's changed, Holly," she said slowly. It was all she could trust herself to say.

"I know. A lot changed for me too," replied the doctor, pulling her gloves off. Holly looked up. "I didn't come back to try and win you back. I ... God this sounds stupid. Can I start this over?"

And Gail laughed. It felt good to laugh. "I don't know, nerd. Do you think you can get it right the second time?"

Holly looked miffed, but it was a look Gail had seen before. Amused irritation. "It's easier, less scary, to move to a new place if you know friends are there," smiled Holly.

A friend. Holly wanted a friend. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment washed through her. Relief that Holly really wasn't chasing her. Disappointment that she wasn't more than a friend. Gail swallowed the feelings. "Yeah, yeah it is."

Her friend smiled awkwardly. "How... Are you liking it here?"

That was a safer topic, realized Gail. "I do. I like it a lot. They... They're good people here. Even if Nick moved out here." She made a face and Holly laughed. "Juliet's happy, though."

"How's that? You two are partners."

"For now." Gail sat on the desk. "Until I'm all dialed in at homicide. Then Hayes said he'll cut me loose."

"And then?"

"Then we'll see. But I think we work well together." She smiled. Talking with Holly was easy. Comfortable. Familiar. "Too soon to tell for you, huh?"

Holly nodded and leaned over to close the body away in the drawer. "I'm still unpacking," she laughed a little. "I got here last night. Can't even find my coffee maker."

"And Mac had to break his ankle," chuckled Gail. "Surprise."

Taking off her lab coat, Holly sighed. "Well. Hell of a first day."

"I didn't try to arrest you this time."

"You still called it a lunchbox," teased Holly.

The banter was easy. Too easy. "Look. Holly..." She stopped and looked at her hands. "This is not the place to ... This isn't the place to talk. About us."

Holly sucked in her breath. "Do you want to talk about us?"

Tough question. "We should... We should figure out what we are. Even if we're just going to be people who work together and know each other." Intimately. She knew Holly in a way that had changed her life. "I don't really have a lot of friends."

"That happens when you hate people," smiled Holly gently.

"They generally suck." She smiled back.

Holly picked up her bag. "I could use a friend, Gail. I know, it's a lot to ask."

Nodding, Gail gestured for her to follow. "Well, I'm not helping you unpack, but I happen to know some killer coffee shops and where the batting cages are."

The brown eyes brightened. "Oh, have you gotten any better?"

"I'm actually on the softball team, and that's your fault."

They both laughed. That felt right too.

"Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," drawled Holly as she opened the door to leave the lab. "I'll buy dinner."

"Yeah you will," smiled Gail. Friendship. She could do with one of those.

Watching Gail and Holly work their way around each other was like watching the worst lesbian romcom ever, decided Juliet.

There was no comedy, to start with. There was tension and awkwardness and teasing that was too much and too little both at the same time. But there was no real laughter. It was like they both were aware of the possibility of romance and neither was willing to take that first step.

If it was driving Juliet crazy, though, there was no doubt in her mind that Gail was being driven even more mad. The woman had abruptly put her love life (if sleeping around once in a blue moon qualified as a love life) on ice the moment Holly rolled into town. She stopped cold turkey. She positively mooned over the woman.

Juliet had known Gail for eighteen months. She'd worked with her incredibly closely for just about a year. She felt she knew Gail pretty well, probably better than Nick, who was still a bit weird about her. But she knew one thing really well about Gail. You couldn't attack her head on about all things. Somethings, sometimes, you could. But she was so freaked out and skittish about Holly that the method had to be different.

So Juliet asked Holly first.

They were working on a case, just the two of them, Holly was pestering Juliet to elaborate on her notes and had mentioned that Gail was better at understanding medical jurisprudence, which seemed to be a joke between them. And, since Gail wasn't there, Juliet just asked. "Hey, you're still into Gail, right?"

Holly nearly coughed coffee out her nose. It was sort of cute. "What?"

"You? Gail? Not over her? I mean, I heard about that story. But that was a year and a half ago."

"Almost two," muttered Holly as she mopped up her shirt. "Damn it…"

Getting more napkins, Juliet pointed out, "Because she's still totally into you."

The doctor looked up, surprised. "She went out on that date."

"Set up," corrected Juliet. "You set her up with that woman, and she went on a date, and came back grumpy. Trust me, she's measuring them all against you."

Holly sighed. "Why are we having this conversation? I don't even know you that well."

"Gail's my friend. And partner. And … I'm basically her work wife. Which is cool. I like her." Juliet watched Holly blot her shirt. "Is that weird?"

"That you like Gail? I don't think so, but …" She gave up and sighed. "Thank god I wore a dark shirt."

Juliet snapped her fingers. "You unbutton your shirt more if Gail's around."

The other woman flushed dark. She didn't deny it. "It's good Gail has a friend," managed Holly. "I … How did you meet her, actually?"

That surprised Juliet. "Gail didn't say?"

"We haven't talked about it. She's still …"

"She's still a bit Gail about it," smiled Juliet.

With a sigh, Holly nodded. "She's still upset at … everyone."

Not that Juliet could blame her. Some of the Toronto sort had come around, like Traci and Dov (and Chloe) and Chris. They'd all come to understand what she did and why she did it. Traci was still a little pissed that she'd had to come under fire because of it, but that had somehow worked out. Their friendship was tenuous at best, though, rough and pained, and Gail was still reluctant to let it grow. But other people, like Andy, couldn't fathom why Gail would go that far without asking them for help.

When Juliet had asked Gail why she'd done it without their help, she'd admitted she didn't want them to be hurt. It was easier to let them hate her, to be the bad guy. They had someone to despise, to make them feel better, and it didn't change any of the facts. Gail had turned in her family. People were allowed to be aghast at that. But still, it hurt her to know even the ones who forgave her now saw her differently. And not necessarily in a good way.

"She gave up a lot," Juliet said quietly. "This life, the job where you make people trust you and then you betray them, it's hard enough when you don't really know or care about them. She had to do it to people she liked."

"I don't think she actually liked Andy," mused Holly. "Or Chloe."

"Chloe's a lot to stomach."

Holly stared at the small pile of paper napkins on the table. "It's complicated," she finally sighed.

That was something Juliet understood. "I met Gail when I was undercover at Fifteen, trying to find out how bad the corruption went. I ... I was there when they arrested Steve. And at his trial. Really, she should hate me. Nick did."

Surprised, Holly pointed out, "And now he's living with you."

"Yeah. Sometimes complicated works out okay," she smiled. "I think you two should try it."

The body beside her was soft and arm in the cool autumn air. An arm was draped casually around her shoulders, giving support and comfort as they watched the end of the movie. It made Gail feel unbalanced to sit this close with Holly, especially when Nick and Juliet were just beside them.

Because they weren't dating.

Holly had been in Vancouver for just over three months now, Gail for almost a year, and they were very much not a couple. They had fallen back into their easy friendship, where they hung out and did things. They spent long nights at each other's houses, especially after rough cases, and they talked. A lot.

But all they did was talk. They talked about everything, from Gail dealing with the continual fallout from her family down to Holly's problems getting the lab to listen to her. Her predecessor had been beloved, after all. Holly was the new girl who'd bounced between three jobs in three years. They didn't trust her.

Of course, Gail trusted her. It was Holly who conspired with Juliet to set Gail up on a series of dates, none of which had panned out. And Gail had retaliated by finding women for Holly. But nothing worked out. They seemed to forever be circling each other in an irregular orbit, forever dancing on the edges of a friendship that had once been more and now was just simple.

Not a damn part of it was simple.

If Gail had been a man, they'd all have known how very not simple it was and exactly how she felt about Holly. Because there were things she knew about Holly that she'd never get out of her mind. Because those years ago, Holly had stolen her heart. There had been other women, some dating around, but nothing was like the lightning that was Holly Stewart.

Everything had changed irrevocably in the moment she'd kissed Holly in interrogation. That was the day she'd known, without having a single doubt, that she was not who she thought she was. Gail had the same feelings when she'd realized her place was here in Vancouver. It all clicked. It made sense.

Nick had spotted her lovelorn status weeks ago and hadn't even teased her about it. He'd just looked at her sadly and pointed out that it was obvious. She'd asked him not to tell and Nick had agreed, but suggested she tell Holly soon.

Which she hadn't. And that was why she was sitting on a blanket on a lawn, watching a stupid movie, while Holly was leaning in really close and sniffling.

So Gail did what she did best. She bit. "I can't believe you're crying," she teased, quietly.

Holly wiped her eyes. "Shut up."

Gail smiled. "You're crying over Some Kind of Wonderful," she whispered.

"You have no soul," hissed Holly, shoving Gail. When Gail laughed, loudly, the audience around them shushed her.

Even Nick told her to be quiet. "Gail, come on, stop it."

"Tool," she told Nick.

Holly reached over and pulled Gail back to her blanket. "Be quiet," she laughed quietly. "You're still a child."

At least they weren't lying in each other's arms, which was a little easier for Gail. Stretched out, side by side, they watched the end of the movie quietly.

But love, unrequited, was painful. Love when the other person was your best friend, hurt. She couldn't look at Holly without being absorbed how she felt. It was the Penny all over again. It was looking at Holly on a date and realizing she wanted to be there. It was feeling it under her skin, in every way, every day, that she wanted to touch Holly.

It was maddening.

Even Juliet had noticed. "You should just tell her," mused her partner over lunch a few days later.

"What?"

"Holly. Tell her you're still into her."

Gail felt her face turn red. "We're not having this conversation."

"Well you should have the conversation with someone. Did you tell your therapist?"

"Hey, that's privileged information!"

Juliet held her hands up. "I didn't tell Nick! And you keep flirting with her."

"I'm not flirting with Holly!" Gail threw a fry at her partner. "God."

She was though, and she knew it. She'd learned how to make homemade pasta for Holly. Because Holly loved pasta and hated the dried stuff. So after spending beaucoup bucks on it at a farmers' market for a month, one of the sellers took pity and asked her why. The blush on her face had been a giveaway and he'd given her a recipe.

So she could lie all she wanted, but yes, Gail was totally flirting with Holly and hoping to turn her eyes because god, she would give up everything just to see that smile again. Especially that sleepy, early morning, smile, before alarms went off, that was quiet and private and tender. And also the smug smile, looking down at her, promising things that made Gail wonder if she'd ever known herself at all.

Ugh.

"You keep telling yourself that," snorted Juliet.

"I am not," grumbled Gail. "We're friends."

"Really, Gail? You sat through the gayest Mary Stuart Masterson movie this side of Fried Green Tomatoes in Holly's arms? Friends?"

Gail frowned. "Wait, what's gay about Fried Green Tomatoes!?"

He'd known Gail a long time. Longer than anyone at Fifteen had. Longer than anyone in Vancouver did by far. He had almost married her after all. Probably best that he didn't. But all that time with her meant Nick could tell that Gail was actually in love.

She'd never looked at him like that, that was for sure.

They were all at the softball field for the last game of the year, Gail and Holly were all standing in a circle with some other players, chatting over by their dugout. From this distance, Nick could see Gail's constant, semi-covert glances at Holly. The way she kept eying her with a look Nick would call 'longing' was strange.

She'd never looked at him like that. Or anyone. Ever. This was what Gail in love looked like.

Nick wondered what Gail would say if he told her that Holly kept checking her out. What would Gail think to learn that Holly had turned down serious dates because her heart was somewhere else?

"You should girl-talk Gail," he said to Juliet, tying her shoes beside him.

Juliet looked up. "Nick, sweetie, I love you. Has Gail ever girl-talked?"

He had to think about that and remembered a day when Gail had made snide 'braid hair' comments to Chloe. "Yeah, okay, fine.

"Besides, she knows." Juliet stood up and took her mitt from his hands.

"What? She knows Holly's into her?"

Kissing his cheek, Juliet shook her head. "You're an idiot, Nick."

Nick frowned. "Okay, you're hanging out with Gail too much. Next you'll start calling me Nicholas."

"Why does she do that?" Juliet looked amused.

"I don't know. She likes using peoples full names to annoy them."

Juliet smirked. "She calls me Jules and Holly Holls. Maybe we're just better kissers."

As his girlfriend walked over to Gail and Holly, Nick shouted, "Yeah, you're hanging out with Gail too much!"

Predictably, she shouted back in a chorus with Holly and Gail. "Shut up, Nicholas!"

All things annoyingly Peck aside, Nick smiled. He liked being here, in Vancouver, and he liked his real chance for starting over with Juliet. That had worked out so much better than he thought it might have. It had all the earmarks for an absolute disaster when he looked at it properly.

First of all, they'd only barely dated. So moving in together that soon seemed incredibly stupid. Second of all, his ex, whom he'd dated excessively, was working with his new girlfriend. A lot. Admittedly, Gail identified as a lesbian now (and boy did that make a lot of sense), it was still really, really weird. Really weird.

Of all things, though, Gail had called on him when she'd been in Toronto for a deposition about her parents. She made him buy her dinner, which she was really good at, and told him to stop being an idiot and apply for the job. Because Juliet wanted him to be there.

Nick felt like he should return the favor. It felt weird owning Gail a favor. Usually she made people pay their dues right away, preferring not to be in karmic debt to anyone, and never believing anyone would eventually pay her back. Man, the Pecks had done a number on her.

When Gail got called to go back to Toronto for something related to the various Peck cases, and both Holly and Juliet got caught up in work, Nick showed up to drive her to the airport.

"I can take a cab," Gail pointed out.

Nick tossed her suitcase into his truck. "I brought you a donut."

"See now you're sucking up. Are you going to propose to Jules and you want my approval? Because ew." But Gail got into the truck and took the coffee and donut.

"I'm not proposing."

Gail nodded, "Good, you're bad at it."

He laughed. "You said yes."

"I was also drunk off my ass on tequila," she pointed out, acerbically. Nick glanced over and saw Gail's smile. That was the fake-mad voice.

"You make real bad decisions on tequila."

"Tell me about it. McNally's wedding? Yech." Gail made a disgusted face.

Nick frowned. "Is that why you're not sleeping with Holly? Because you and Frankie—"

"Whoa," Gail cut him off. "What the hell? Holly and I aren't dating, you idiot."

He sighed. "You should be."

"Oh my god, stop the car, I'm going to walk to the airport." She didn't reach for the door and he didn't slow down. Instead, they drove in silence for a little while. You had to wait Gail out sometimes and let her simmer. If she was going to tell you anything, it would come at her own pace. "I hate this car," she finally muttered.

"Really? That's not what you said last time."

"Uh, loser. Last time I was in this car you dumped me, because you're a dick."

He blinked. Was that really the last time she'd been in his car with him? "Point taken," sighed Nick. "I'm sorry. For how I … How I handled that. I was an ass."

Gail looked out the side window. "Fine." She bit into the donut, clearly saying no more about it.

"We have a lot of shitty conversations in this car, don't we?"

"Yep," drawled Gail. "This one is included." She made a circle with her finger, indicating both of them.

Nick smiled. "You should ask Holly to go out again."

The blonde muttered, "So not your business, Nick." He opened his mouth and she asked, pointedly, "How's your brother?"

And he stopped. "That was low."

"Hey, I didn't tell the kiddies at Fifteen about him," she noted and put her feet on his dash. "Just be done with this conversation."

Sensing he was at his limit for how far he could push Gail in any one day, Nick nodded. They said nothing more until Gail got out at the airport. "Hey, Gail..."

She slung her bag to her shoulder. "Thank you for the ride," begrudged the woman.

That was Gail alright. Getting a thanks was like pulling teeth. "Holly's still totally into you."

Gail looked at him for a long moment. "Nick... You know how I'm really awesome at blowing up relationships?" That had the sound of Gail in an honest moment of introspection. They were rare. He nodded. "Right. I don't want to do that anymore. So don't... Just don't push, okay?"

"Sure." He nodded at her. "You won't, though."

"Yeah, you think?" She frowned. "I don't know. And ... Until I know, I don't want to think about it."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just ... Don't do the other thing you're really good at. Don't get in a tree and make up some excuse or drama."

Gail nodded at him. "I'll keep that in mind."

He watched her walk into the airport and realized all he could do was hope his ex, his friend, could get it right.

She was moping and she knew it.

In the months since she had moved to Vancouver, Holly had spent most of it in Gail's pocket, one way or another. Rarely did a day go by without them talking or hanging out or just being goofy. She liked hanging out with Gail, and here she was, three days into her best friend being gone for dealing with a trial and Holly was mopey.

"It's stupid," she muttered into the phone. "I mean, we both moved on. We've dated people. So I shouldn't be all teen drama about this."

Rachel sighed across the line. "Not that I mind you blabbing all this to me, Holl, but that's usually Lisa's job." There was the clink of a wine glass.

"Gail's at Lisa's. Apparently they're bitchy friends together."

With an 'ahhh' of understanding, Rachel admitted, "I should go see her. Lisa I mean. It's been forever since we hung out. I think you were our glue."

That was sweet. And sad. "You two were friends before you saved me from failing," smiled Holly.

"True! But you stopped me from dropping out. And you helped Lisa pass our boards."

Holly sighed and closed her eyes. "I miss you too."

Echoing the sigh, Rachel also yawned. "I'm beat, Holls. I love you like a sister-"

"You hate your sister."

"She's a tool," agreed Rachel. "But I need to sleep."

Holly glanced at her clock. It was nine here, which was midnight there. "Sorry. I just... I don't know."

"You needed to talk to a friend who gets being in love with someone unavailable." Rachel sounded sympathetic. "You never got over her."

With a deep sigh that felt like it came from her marrow, Holly admitted, "No. I never got over her. She just blew into my life and ruined me. How the hell does that happen?"

"You're lucky, Holls. You need to get off your ass and tell her how you still feel. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Go to sleep, Rachel."

"Love you, Holls."

"Love you too, Rach." Holly hung up and rested her forehead against the refrigerator. "Shit." She was still in love with Gail. That was the big problem.

It wasn't news to Holly. She'd woken up a few times in the last year, since she'd seen Gail again in Toronto, with her blood burning and wisps of an erotic dream that was a bit more memory than fantasy. The most recent one was definitely a fantasy, peeling Gail out of a red dress on the landing at her lovely little house. She'd just been cupping bare breasts when her alarm went off.

The dream had been so damn real, Holly swore she could feel them in her hands when she woke up.

She knew what they felt like, too, which made it worse. It wasn't just a raw fantasy, like the dreams she'd had about actresses in her confused teen years. This wasn't a wondering of if someone else felt like her, liked what she liked, reacted like she did. No, this was knowing that Gail had liked those things but not others. This was remembering the feeling of Gail's fingers digging into her back, tangling in her hair, holding her close.

And it was driving her mad. Holly was pretty sure she was actually going to become insane. Any time she wasn't working, she was day dreaming. When she complained to her father that she was having trouble concentrating, he suggested she start drawing again. Sketching, really. So Holly started carrying a small notebook around and sketched.

Page after page, if anyone had looked, was Gail. Real moments, like sitting at a booth at a diner with Juliet and Nick. But also memories. The smile Gail had when she was happy, really happy, was soft and gentle. That smile was in the notebook. There also was the laughter, or just the eyes. God, those eyes.

It wasn't helping her in the slightest. All it did was make her remember the way those eyes had looked up at her before, full of surprise and delight and trust. She remembered the bleary, bedroom eyes, full of reluctance to get out of a warm bed. And she definitely remembered the dark, bright, eyes that were full of want...

Yeah. Not helping.

Holly finished her glass of wine and took a cold shower, hoping to subdue the dreams for one more night.

Instead, she ended up awake at five am and pounding pavement under her feet. Running didn't actually help shut up the voices in her head that were arguing about Gail. Running just gave her something to do. It exhausted her and wore her down and she hoped that maybe, maybe it would quiet things enough.

But it never did.

"How was Toronto?"

"That's your start of casual conversation?" Gail buckled in and shook her head.

"What? You were gone a week. Can't I miss you?" Juliet grinned.

Gail grunted, "It was fine. My ex tried to kill me with her mind, my brother thinks I should try to explain things to Fifteen, most of Fifteen still thinks I'm a bitch, and my parents still aren't talking to me."

Startling, Juliet looked at her partner. "In a week? Damn you fit a lot in." Her ex had to mean Frankie Anderson, though, since none of the others Juliet knew about were a 'she'. "Anderson? Did she give you a death glare or something?"

"Yeah, if looks could kill, I'd be dead as a door nail." Gail looked and sounded a little sad. "How about you?"

Juliet sighed. "I was going to try and parlay this into telling you that our coroner was a mopey as a teenaged girl dressed in black and armed with a purple pen."

Her partner snorted. "Bad timing. Story of my life." But then she asked. "Is that why you're picking me up?"

"She thought she'd babble."

A smile crossed Gail's face, as if she liked when Holly babbled. "She does that." Gail yawned.

Juliet was used to Gail lapsing into long periods of silence and drove her home in the comfortable quiet. While she and Nick had a nice apartment, Gail had actually bought a house. It was small but it had a killer view of woods and a river. When asked, Gail said it reminded her of her family's cottage. Glancing over, Juliet smiled to see that Gail had dozed off.

She slowed as she turned up the gravel road, the sound of the crunch under the tires stirring Gail into awareness. "I'll bring your bag in," offered Juliet, parking in front of the garage.

"Thanks. I've got to pee," sighed Gail, heading to her downstairs bathroom and ignoring the pile of mail.

Juliet picked up the mail and sorted through it. Junk. Junk. Junk. She raised her voice, "Do you ever get real mail?"

From the bathroom, Gail called back, "Does anyone?" There was a flush and water and Gail walked out with a loud exhale. "I hate flying."

"Do you ever use the bathroom on planes?" They'd flown together three times. Twice to Vancouver, once to Toronto. All three times, Gail had tucked herself into the window seat and not gotten up.

"God no. Someone always pisses all over the seat."

Smiling, Juliet held up the junk mail. "Recycling?"

"Blue bin under the sink. Drink?"

"Got a fizzy water?" Juliet kicked the cabinet closed as Gail pulled out a can of sparkling water and a beer. "So really, as your partner and best friend, how are you?"

Gail snorted. "Holly's my best friend. You're just my convenient friend."

"At least I rank above Nick."

"Everyone ranks above Nick."

Juliet shrugged. "Speaking of Holly, Nick thinks you're still in love with her."

The blonde hesitated and then grumbled. "Please tell me something I don't know. Like maybe Nick broke his nose? I can fix that story…"

It was a moment of self awareness that Juliet hadn't expected. Gail was all but admitting it now. "You should do something about it."

Gail turned around and leaned against her counter. "Jules, I'm still a mess."

"Why do you always say things I'm not expecting?"

"I hate being predictable," sighed Gail. "I'm self-destructive, I can be a total brat, I make really bad choices when I drink tequila. Jesus, I slept with someone who was trying to play me for a fool and save her own ass. Which makes me feel incredibly slutty, and I cheated on Nick once with a really hairy asshole."

Juliet had gotten used to Gail hitting herself, metaphorically. It just meant she was scared, and since it rarely popped up with regards to work, she was more than happy to help her friend sort through things. You just had to use humor. "He was hairy? No wonder you're a lesbian."

The smile on Gail's face told her it worked. "No, sleeping with women made me a lesbian."

"Which isn't the point," agreed Juliet. "Look. It's simple. You like her, you tell her, you get her."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "That works for men, but you can just show up and they're in." She sipped the beer in her hand. "I don't want to just get her, Jules," added Gail very quietly.

They'd reached step one of getting Gail to deal with her personal problems. Admit they were real. "What do you want?"

"No," grumbled Gail. "No, we're not having this conversation."

And there she went back to avoidance. Alright. "Sex. Pretty sure you want that, I mean … it's been since whenever you broke up with that nurse—"

"Karla, with a K. And I didn't sleep with her."

"See? That's part of it. You need to get laid. But you don't want Holly to be just a lay."

Gail frowned. "If … I don't want to screw it up a third time. I … there's not going to be a fourth chance."

"Third? Did I miss— Oh you count the thingy? When she asked you to go to San Francisco?"

Nodding, Gail looked at her beer bottle. "Maybe I should have… But no, I stayed and got my heart stomped by everyone else. What if... What if it's me? I mean, the constant here is me. Nick's happy."

She looked so sad, it was almost cute. "Gail. You're afraid." Step two to pushing Gail was to state the obvious and get her to agree.

"Yeah," admitted Gail sadly.

Step three time. Get to the truth. "What happened in Toronto?"

Gail took her beer over to her couch. "Can we not do this? I'm jet lagged."

"Fastest way to get over it is to stay up. Besides, it's Saturday and I'll just crash here and we can do brunch." When Gail hesitated, Juliet tried, "How about we watch something shitty on TV and talk over food?" Food always went well with Gail.

The blonde nodded and then startled when her phone rang. "Order me comfort food," she commanded and picked up her phone. "Hey, Holls."

Oh! Juliet beamed and ordered from their favorite Mexican place, carefully eavesdropping on Gail's conversation. It sounded like Holly was checking in to make sure Gail got in safe. Unlike Gail's reaction to Juliet's questions, Holly got real answers. Like it had been stressful and unpleasant. And yes, Gail was free Sunday afternoon, but did it have to be sports?

Gail was lighter when she talked to Holly. As if the burdens of the world were washed away and she could be free. It had been similar when they were undercover, like being anyone but herself was easier. Personally, Juliet had liked that Gail a great deal. She was funny and witty and forgot she was a Peck. But Gail wore her name like a badge of honor. Like a survivor. She wanted to be the Peck that people remembered, even if she'd yet to admit that.

When she hung up, Gail grimaced and leaned over until her face hit the arm of the couch. "Anderson is pissed off because I took everything away from her," mumbled Gail into her couch. "Oliver's trying to get everyone else to see I'm amazing, but Oliver loves everyone so mostly they just think I'm a great liar and I don't care about them. And you know it's easier to just walk away and let them hate."

"You have to stop thinking of it like that," warned Juliet. That had been the hardest part of working undercover. The betrayals. Getting someone to know you, to like you, and then to burn it all down. "They don't hate you, they hate themselves for not seeing it, for not following through."

"I know," Gail sighed. Picking up her head, she hugged a pillow instead. "And I don't hate them. I just... I lost everything too."

That was true. Juliet sat down on the other end of the couch. "You did. But you, I thought you were doing good here."

"Eh," shrugged Gail. "I feel like if I start thinking of it as home, someone's going to pull the rug out from under me."

Juliet looked thoughtful. "Well. You don't have any more family to betray. You haven't been here long enough to earn everyone's ire, though you sure pissed off Tomás in drugs, and remind me to buy you a round for that. He's such an ass."

With a biting smile, Gail nodded. "Noted."

"What's left to lose?"

A serious expression crossed Gail's face. She held her tongue for a long moment. Finally... "The one thing I think would break me if I lost again." She looked sad. "I never stopped being in love with her, which is so ... It stupid. Right? We went out for barely three months."

It was stupid. It was also what happened. "Given how I met and fell for Nick, I don't think I can really argue that point."

"Nick falls in love like a girl," grumbled Gail.

Nick was always creeped out that they talked about him so causally. They had no issues talking about him in bed, or habits they hated. It was the result of their undercover stint. They just felt comfortable sharing their information. Which was why Juliet knew Gail would listen to her now.

"Gail. You're going to lose her if you don't do something. Because she'll find someone acceptable and you'll hate them both forever. At least if you try, you have a chance."

"Please stop making sense. You know I hate that," Gail complained, but not seriously.

"You should give up hating me, Peck. You know I'm awesome."

But she did let it go after that. Juliet couldn't make Gail do the right thing, and even Juliet didn't know for sure what that was. At least she could nudge.

If she could stop having sex dreams about Holly, that would be great. In general, Gail slept better out in Vancouver, and that was nice. The problem with deep sleep was that it brought out deep dreams and that meant dreaming about Holly. A lot. In ways that were inappropriate now.

It was her own fault. Gail had told Holly that she wanted to be friends. She desperately needed a friend. That was how she and Holly had stuck together in the first place, too. Her old friends were idiots and she'd been in need of a new one. And now she was bereft of friends, and that meant she hung out a lot with Holly.

And that meant she'd had a dream that was half memory and fully realistic. It was here in her bed in Vancouver, but Holly was sitting, straddling her hips and looking down, biting her lip just so with her lips curved to one side. And the sleep shirt, some sports team, was so slowly being pulled off. Gail half realized it was a dream as she reached for Holly's waist, eager to pull her down.

A dream she was ripped out of by a ringing phone. "Peck," she mumbled and squinted at the clock. Two in the morning. It was dispatch with a case. A dead body at a school. Gail took down the address and rolled into a cold shower before driving out to meet an equally sleepy looking Juliet.

"Not sleeping again?" Juliet held out a coffee.

"Weird dreams. Who's dead?" She sucked down half the coffee in one go. It was helping.

"A teacher. I just got here, and Yung coffee'd me." They both looked over at patrol officer Yung. "I love him. If Nick leaves me, I'm taking him."

Yung was a child. "He's twenty two years old," smirked Gail. "Thanks for the coffee, Yung." She hefted the cup as a salute and the child turned pink. "Also I think he likes me best."

Laughing, Juliet lifted the tape for Gail to pass under. "Lesbian."

Gail smirked and walked down the hall to the dead body. Her heart thudded when she saw that Mac was their coroner, not Holly. That was probably best for her sanity right now. "Hey, Mac. How'd you get stuck here?"

"Payback for the broken ankle. Stewart conned me into covering nights for the month." He smiled up at them. "Dead art teacher. Stabbed with a paint knife."

Frowning, Juliet leaned over. "Math teacher I could understand. Art teacher?"

She had a point. "PE teacher maybe."

"French teacher."

Gail scowled. "What's wrong with French?"

Ignoring her, Juliet asked Mac, "Can you really kill someone with a paint knife? Heck, what is a paint knife?"

"Technically, not a knife," yawned Gail. "Use 'em instead of a brush to paint with. They're like skinny, flexible, trowels." Both Juliet and Mac looked at her. "What?"

Juliet cleared her throat. "I didn't know you painted."

"I don't." Gail had not been blessed with a lick of artistic skill, except singing. Which she rarely did. Holly painted. Kind of. She dabbled. Her father was the artist, as Holly had told Gail on more than one occasion.

Wisely, Mac didn't mention anything about it. "Well. Anything with a pointed end can be used to stab, just takes a bit more strength."

Gail took a good look at the blood on the ground. "Got the jugular, huh?"

"Lucky shot?" Juliet touched her own neck. "Didn't Mythbusters prove you could do it with a drone?"

That Gail did not know. Holly would. Yeah, she was just not going to escape that tonight. "Maybe we'll luck out and get prints off the knife," she sighed.

By eight, they'd interviewed the security guards, gotten the videos from the security camera, and even managed to squeeze in breakfast. Instant oatmeal counted as breakfast, right? Gail had folded her arms and used them as a pillow on her desk while Juliet stuck everything up on the board.

"Okay," muttered Juliet. "We have an art teacher, been at the school ten years- sorry, Eleven. Generally beloved. Rumors like usual. All teachers are messed up individuals. He was accused of making a pass at a student, unfounded. Student later recanted. Yung is getting the student now. Prints off the knife are empty, but that could mean a lot of things. Not everyone's prints are in the system. There was a push here, about fifteen years ago, to get kids printed. Doesn't exclude students of course."

A second voice joined in. "Talking to yourself?" It was the warm tones of Dr. Holly Stewart. Gail almost looked up, but frankly the idea of moving was currently untenable. She let Holly's voice comfort her instead, like a warm blanket.

"She's awake." Juliet yawned. "That's her thinking pose. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Tox screen was positive."

Gail spoke up. "Opiates, shrooms, LSD, or weed?"

The rich sound of Holly's laughter warmed her. "LSD. Classic Tim Leary, here."

There was a squeaking sound as Juliet wrote on the board. "Drugs. Were there any on him?"

"Negative," replied Holly. "The paint in his wound matched the paint on his hands, though."

Grunting, Gail lifted her head. "Hoisted by his own petard."

Holly's dark eyes smiled at her. "More or less."

Butterflies danced in her stomach. Gail firmly told them to shut up. "Alert area hospitals and dispatch for anyone on a bad trip," yawned Gail, putting her head back down. "Any word on his car?"

"Not yet," sighed Juliet. "APB still coming up zero."

"Did we check all the plates in the lot?" There was silence. Gail peeked up again and saw Juliet's flummoxed expression. "Hey, Yung! C'mere."

The earnest young man looked incredibly serious. "Ma'am?"

"Need you to go back to the school and check all the cars in the lot. See if they have our dead teacher's plates." Weirdly, Yung was excited about the grunt work and ran off. "Rookies," she sighed and closed her eyes.

"Some people will have left," mused Juliet. "If he comes up short, he can check with AV and the security cameras."

Holly laughed softly. "I'd say you two are mean, but that's what rookies are for. How early did they call you?"

"Two," complained Gail. She really wanted a nap.

"Ah." The sound was one Gail remembered. Holly understood how tired and frustrated Gail was and was trying to think of a way to help. "You're running the prints. I'm going to go back over the clothes, see if there's any possible transfer."

"Like what?" Juliet sounded confused.

Gail got it. "Paint that wasn't oil based?"

"For example," replied Holly and Gail could hear the smile. "Did you do a background check? What kind of media did he work in?"

"Oils by preference," Gail yawned and picked her head up, supporting her chin on her hands. "He did a bit of plaster, but not stone. Murals. He died in front of one of his murals. Jules?"

Her partner hesitated and then pulled out the photos. "He did the ugly swirly thing?"

Holly perked up. "It's an homage to Van Gogh!"

"Juliet's an uneducated plebeian," yawned Gail.

"Hey, I went to college," Juliet laughed. It had been an ongoing joke. Juliet liked very simple things. Which explained Nick. "But that doesn't look like his stuff."

"Hence homage, not copy. I'm on that." Holly hesitated, looking at Gail thoughtfully, as if she was on the cusp of saying something more personal. But in the end, she gave a slight nod and walked out.

Juliet whistled softly. "I'm telling you, Peck."

"Shut up, Ward," grumbled Gail, and she put her head back down.

"Why do they have to run? I hate it when they run." Gail was cursing as she followed Juliet down the alley.

"You hate running," grumbled Juliet. They were both hustling, not running, guns out, looking for their art teacher killer.

The break had come from not Holly but Yung, who found the license plates had been swapped. Technically that meant the break came from Gail, but she'd subcontracted the work. They hadn't really bantered about that, though, because the break was big. They had a suspect and his name and motive, though they both felt it was stupid. The best art student in the school had been declined a letter of recommendation because of his attitude.

Frankly if he'd killed the teacher, Juliet thought the call was justified. Gail had disagreed and pointed out that you didn't have to go to college to become the next best artist.

"I hate running," groused Gail, skidding on the wet street. "And rain. And running in the rain. Damn it, there he is!"

The patrol officers had spotted the car hours ago, empty and by an abandoned warehouse. Of course they'd checked out the building. It was filled with art. Creepy art. Which explained the other reason he'd not gotten that letter. The kid was a good artist, but he had a twisted imagination.

Also an obsession with guns, which they learned when he took a shot at them with a rifle.

"Gail, how many shots does that rifle have?"

"Ten or fifteen. Depends on the clip."

Juliet trusted Gail on matters of guns. "I counted eight shots. Assume it's fully loaded?"

"Safe bet," Gail agreed. She slowed down. "I like this less and less."

They both stopped as they got to the turn. "Bad feeling?"

"I'd be waiting for us."

So would Juliet. She drew her gun but Gail stayed her hand and picked up a piece of brick. That would work. Juliet took her shooter's stance, ready to cover her partner. Nodding, Gail wound up and threw the brick down the turn.

Nothing.

"Crap. We lost him." Gail poked her head around.

There was a flash of black and the solid crack of a rifle stock hitting Gail's head echoed down the alley. "Freeze," shouted Juliet, hoping to god that the boneless crumple of her partner wasn't as bad as it looked.

I never said I was beyond cliffhangers.