Gail and Holly have worked it out, but Toronto is a different matter. There are things left unresolved and leaving those out there only ends in pain. So what would bring Gail back to Toronto? Come on, you know this one.

Warning. Talk about rape happens in this chapter. None happens actively.

The first dead girl that spring gave Gail Peck a horrible feeling in her gut.

It was a blonde, which was crazy common, but the dress and the hair bothered her. The hair looked like she used to wear her hair, just after the drunken attack with Holly's scissors in a bathroom years ago. Was that really years? Her hair was back to the length it had been when she'd graduated the Academy, though undyed. She'd had to cut it short again to get the brown out.

The dead woman had the pixie cut Gail found familiar. She'd once sported it, suffered through as it grew out, after loosing her mind in Holly's bathroom. And it was bleached blond, just like she used to do. She ran a hand through her naturally red-blonde with hints of brown hair.

"Any ID?" Gail's partner, Juliet Ward, stood by the body, frowning.

"No, but her breasts are silicone, so I should be able to get an ID off them." Gail's girlfriend, Dr. Holly Stewart, was also by the body.

Gail stayed by the tape. She swallowed thickly and spoke up, "Check her neck."

Tilting her head, Holly didn't question the remark and squatted, looking at the neck carefully. "Injection site." Holly looked up at Gail, eyes dark and concerned.

Juliet swiveled and stared at Gail. "What the hell? You psychic?"

The coroner shook her head. "No such thing." But she did frown a little. Holly was smart and was probably putting things together right away.

It made Gail feel a little better, momentarily to be right. That always felt good. "She's probably been beaten. Maybe assaulted. But she would have been treated." Taking a deep breath, Gail turned and walked back to the car. "You're doing the autopsy, Ward."

"Sure..." Juliet sounds skeptical and confused. Even before Gail and Holly were going out, even before Holly had moved to Vancouver, Gail did the majority of the autopsies for their partnership. She was simply better at them than most detectives. Gail was incredibly better than most cops. She liked the quietness of the morgue and the simplicity of cause and effect.

This. This she couldn't be there to watch. Not unless she had to. Copycats. Fucking copycats. Or maybe it wasn't that rare to kill blonde sex workers. People loved blondes. Blondes went for higher rates. "Ketamine. Look for ketamine on your blood work."

What she wanted to do right now was drive the hell away. Drive hours and avoid everything. That would be a bad idea right now. Pulling out her phone, Gail texted her therapist and made an appointment for the next day. The two options she had were that she was over reacting or she had a copycat. Either way she would need to unload.

Instead of driving off, Gail got in the passenger side and closed her eyes. Breath in and breath out. Breath in, two, three. Breath out, two, three.

The car door opened and Juliet sighed. "You need anything?"

That was code for if Gail wanted to talk about it. And that answer was no. Not at all. Not once. Not ever. "No." She took another breath.

"Okay."

She didn't have to say anything. Juliet would ask, she wouldn't press. And yet. Gail had to have a relationship with her partner. They had to trust. The one thing being a Peck had never prepared her for was what she needed most right now. So Gail took a deep breath. "Three years before I met you, I was kidnapped by a deranged taxi driver who took blonde prostitutes, shot 'em up with ketamine, fixed 'em up if they were hurt, raped 'em once they were better, killed and dumped them."

Juliet started the car. "Yeah, you stay the hell away from the autopsy."

"Thank you," sighed Gail, buckling in.

"Just for the record, we go after drug dealers who slit throats? You take it."

Gail opened her eyes and looked at Juliet's profile. "You got it."

She didn't want to know what Juliet's bad case was, but she'd known her partner had gone undercover a few times with drug lords. And Gail remembered the day, back when they'd been undercover together, that one of their drug running cohorts had threatened a mark with a switchblade. It had been Juliet who woke up shouting that night, hands flying to her neck.

Gail didn't ask then. She made a pot of coffee and sat next to the woman, turning on a bad movie, and they stayed up the rest of the night. Because everyone who had been undercover had a story like that. Everyone had nearly died, or felt like they did. Everyone had scars. It wasn't to be asked, it was to be shared if and only if the other person was ready. No. Gail did not ask then and Juliet did not ask now.

The drive was silent until they pulled into their lot. "I wasn't kidnapped," Juliet noted. "I can't ... I was just held hostage."

"Works out about the same," mused Gail.

"Sitting in the dark, waiting." They shared a nod.

"But we walked away, right? That's the thing. We walked away and we came back and we're here."

"Sounds like something a therapist said."

Gail snorted. "She'll probably say it again tomorrow."

Juliet nodded. "Good. I was going to ask... You going to be okay? I don't have to do the autopsy if that's gonna all be too close ... Hell, we can toss the case over."

It was a good question. Gail sighed. "If it's related, you need me. If it's not, I'll be fine."

"Why... Why do you think it might be related?"

She got out of the car. "He had a copy cat once. Ask Nick. He remembers."

Gail certainly remembered. How do you forget being strapped to a table for hours? Could someone set aside memories of being drugged to the point where you couldn't tell the difference between reality and hallucination? She doubted there would be a year or even a week where that horrible night didn't settle around her and remind her how dangerous her life was.

No. No, she would never forget Ross Perik.

As soon as she asked Nick, Juliet regretted it. Her boyfriend's face lost the smile he nearly always wore. He looked like when he'd learned she was in IA. His face went slack and then tight. "Why? Why are you asking that?"

She sighed. "We have a case that matches the same methods."

"We." Nick swallowed. "You mean you and Gail? Jesus... Are you ... Is it the same? The same MO?"

"Ketamine mixture, healed bruises." And the rest. It was nearly something Sex Crimes was going to take over when Gail spoke up. "And yes. Me and Gail."

The day had not gone well after the morning's discovery. Seven dead women across the country, all matching the profile. Everywhere, including Ontario. Hayes had blown a gasket, not at Gail but at the Mounties who were supposed to handle this sort of thing. They, of course, brought a dandy in and their case was being combed over.

Holly had been the coroner on record, so she was stuck for hours working on the case, rushing as much as possible to get an ID. The dead woman was Kara Spencer, aka Destiny, an escort who spoke four languages and according to her Madame, Helen White, didn't put out. At the interview with the Madame, Gail had been silent until the end.

As Madame Helen stood up to leave, Gail asked, without looking at her, if people knew Destiny was a lesbian. The Madame had startled, but admitted most people did know. Since there was no sex involved, however, it hardly mattered to business.

The Mounties started background checks on all the dead women. Not all were lesbians, just the ones in the past two years.

It was days like this that Juliet hated her job.

Nick exhaled loudly. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, Juliet stepped into his chest and was relieved that Nick wrapped his arms around her. She needed his solidity, his stability. "I'm okay. I have no idea how Gail's not a fucking mess."

"She's strong," he murmured into her hair.

"That's what scares me."

How strong did you have to be to take everything that life threw at you when life threw a damned serial killer?

Later that night, Juliet texted Holly just to check in on things. She couldn't ask Gail if she was alright, not directly. The text was replied to within minutes.

We're okay.

We. It was good that Holly had moved in with Gail. It was good Gail wasn't alone. Holly had a remarkable ability to get Gail's head out of her ass and actually deal with things. Juliet hesitated and tapped a reply.

If you need anything, anytime. Call.

This time, Holly's reply was fairly prompt.

She ripped out the downstairs toilet and is currently cursing at the new one.

That sounded like Gail, smiled Juliet.

Don't let her deflect all night.

And this reply was right away, complete with a photo of Gail lying under the toilet with a wrench.

Just letting her wear herself out first.

Juliet laughed.

There are more fun ways to do that, Doc.

The only reply to that was some vaguely offensive emoji.

The next day, Gail was already at the building by seven and looked hungover, except without the fun part first. "Jesus, Peck. Did you get any sleep?"

"Nope," muttered Gail. "Got a connection."

It took Juliet a minute to realize Gail meant the case. "Seriously? You stayed up all night going over the case?"

"No, I was up anyway. Figured I might as well do something useful."

"Useful." Juliet shook her head and counted the coffee cups. "Did you eat anything?"

"Kind of, Holly plied me with a granola bar."

Juliet scowled. "Come on, you need a break from caffeine. Get up."

Gail hesitated and then nodded, getting up. "Yeah. Yeah I do." She swept the paper cups into the garbage and followed Juliet down and out to a nearby restaurant.

It wasn't Sunday but it was the same idea. Juliet pulled her crossword book out and sat down, starting to fill in various answers. They ordered food, Gail sticking with bland oatmeal and fruit, which told Juliet far more about her partner's status than anything else.

She'd read up on the case that night too, so she couldn't say Gail was the only one obsessing over it. Once the tea came (Gail's was decaf herbal, something Juliet was always surprised to see she liked), Juliet asked, "You want to talk about it?"

Gail shook her head, but added lemon to the tea as she replied, "He didn't rape me. We screwed up his timetable."

Juliet stared at Gail. She hadn't asked that. She hadn't wanted to. "I didn't read your case."

"Everyone else has," sighed Gail.

"I'm not everyone else, Gail. I'm your partner."

The blonde smiled thinly. "Yeah." She sighed. "Why didn't you ask that?"

Juliet screwed her face up. "People seriously ask?"

"Everyone always wants to know that. How screwed up am I, kinda thing. The only person who didn't ask was Holly."

"Does she know?"

Gail nodded. "Everything."

Nodding back, Juliet wondered, "Does it help? Telling her about it?"

"I don't know... But there are nights, like last night, where I'm just not... You know, I'm not all here? Because I'm there?"

God. Yes. Juliet exhaled shakily. "But you have Holly now."

There was a soft smile on Gail's face. "I do," she agreed.

"And you had ... Nick before?" The smile went away. Okay. Now she had to ask, because there were things that Juliet should tell him. "How ... How did Nick take it?"

"He was there," she shrugged. "But we never talked about it. Oughta say a lot, huh?"

It did. It said nearly everything. "I want to tell him. And I don't. I mean, it was terrifying and it was four hours and they got the guy."

Gail studied her face and then did something that was rare. She opened up. "It wasn't him, Jules. It's me. Isn't... I don't talk about it. I still feel lucky as hell that Perik didn't like his women to be banged up." She swirled the sugar into her tea. "About a month before I met Holly, that's when we had his copy cat. I went and talked to Perik in prison."

That was the part of the story Nick told her. The part where he found out Gail cheated on him. From Nick's perspective, the stories were dark and daunting. He'd been there when Gail was rescued, thinking she'd need him, but all she did was close him out. And then when she'd taken the hit for the death of a prisoner, he'd left.

Nick admitted he'd been a terrible boyfriend for Gail, more concerned with himself and feeling wanted than what she really needed. It made him a better boyfriend now, but it had only cemented what Gail had told Juliet about being raised by the Pecks. No one was trustworthy. No one was reliable.

Except.

That wasn't what Gail was like in Vancouver. That wasn't what Gail was like with Holly. That wasn't the Gail that Juliet knew. Her Gail was bitter and jaded and cynical. But she wasn't as defensive.

"I was undercover, as a dealer. There was a little using." Juliet twisted the empty packet of sugar in her hands.

"Sure," nodded Gail. That's how it went sometimes. Every cop knew that.

"I had a drop, my contact, and they caught us talking. In his car. They shot him right then. I actually ... Sometimes I feel his brains all over my face. When it's muddy or that time we did paintball? It's ..." Juliet waved a hand. "Anyway. They dragged me out and jammed a knife under my chin." She stopped, remembering the feeling of the cold metal and the sound of the shouts. They screamed at her, threatening her. Was she a cop?

With a sigh, Gail touched her forehead almost absently, like she wasn't sure she was doing it. "Jerry. Traci's fiancé. He found me. But he got stabbed. Died... I watched him, saw him bleeding out on the floor."

Knowing her partner knew death like that made is easier. "They were real pissed off I was a cop." Juliet arched an eyebrow.

Gail nodded. "Oh yeah, he was terrified when he found out, said I should have told him."

"What a sick fuck," muttered Juliet and Gail laughed.

"They all are," the blonde pointed out. "He tossed me in the trunk of his taxi. I'm not real fond on small spaces."

Juliet shuddered. "You know, everything you've told me about your parents, I get the feeling they would have locked you in a closet to help you get over it." When Gail didn't reply, looking at her tea, Juliet felt herself shudder. "Are you fucking joking?"

"I was in my twenties, it's not child abuse." She shrugged.

"Jesus. You should have put them in jail years ago."

Gail smiled. "Yeah. Well. Then you wouldn't have met me."

"I think you mean Nick," teased Juliet. "Unless you're suggesting you and me and Holly."

"Nah, she kisses better."

The angst of their similar(ish) trauma faded with the joking banter. But. "Do you really think it's a copycat?"

"I'm thinking we found the first fresh death," sighed Gail. "The timetable is ... We have three cases out here that match the profile. Oldest body dates to when Perik came back from Doctors Abroad."

Juliet stared. "That was ten years ago."

"Yeah. And Perik didn't do it then and he didn't do this now."

"What?" Juliet swallowed the fear the jumped into her heart. She knew what Gail said, what she meant, and what it meant. "Perik is the apprentice?"

Gail nodded. "Looks like. MO is similar, but the ..." She pushed her hair out of her face and touched her forehead. "He did the butterfly sutures, Perik did." She was referring to the little x scar on her forehead. It used to just be a faint line, something you could barely see in the sun. Their idiot with a rifle had made it an x.

"Kara didn't have the same level of care."

"She did not," confirmed Gail. "None of them did. Until Toronto."

Juliet shuddered. "Someone taught him how to do this."

"Everyone but Kara's been dead longer than I've lived out here." She sipped her tea. "Someone taught him how to do it, and now he's back."

There was a balance to being a girlfriend and a coworker that Holly found hard. She had never planned to work in the same building as Gail, she'd never planned to fall back into a relationship. But here she was, living with Gail, working with Gail, and most definitely in a relationship with Gail that crossed all the lines she'd always invented for herself.

And there was one more line to be crossed. One Holly had never imagined was even there. She'd never really thought about the idea of Ross Perik coming back into Gail's life as more than a memory, after all. He was in jail. He was locked away, waiting for his own death. He was going to die alone in a cell.

Except before that could happen, before it could be more than a passing thought, Holly found herself and Gail being called into a room with four Mounties and a stack of papers. Files.

"I like it better when you ask me to come into a room with a file," muttered Gail, defusing some tension.

One of the Mounties, an officer with grey hair and authority, jerked his chin. "I'll take care of it." The others nodded, leaving them alone. "You were right," said the man. "It's not an apprentice. It's older." The officer sat down. "Fourteen dead women and counting. They go back eleven years, to when Perik came back from Somalia."

Holly frowned. "And the last three have been in the last eighteen months. Unless someone let Perik out, he didn't do this."

The officer nodded. "He didn't. But the last three were lesbians. And two were in Vancouver. Which means someone who knows his MO knows Peck, and knows she's here."

Gail stiffened. "So ... Toronto to hide me?"

"Hardly. Toronto to pick his brain."

The detective sighed. "Oh. You want me to talk to him."

That was not something Holly liked at all. "But we already know the MO matches the early killings. The drug mixture isn't as precise and exact as Perik, more rough. It's a doctor, but someone who isn't as educated."

The Mountie waved his hand. "Which means it's probably someone he met before he lost his license and came back. Do you know why he lost his license?"

"Unauthorized treatments," replied Gail, her voice flat and dull.

"He was working under another doctor, Richard Ford. From Alabama in the States. He lost his license and dropped off the radar."

Holly cleared her throat. "By unauthorized treatments, you mean he killed them. After he..." She trailed off. The Mountie nodded. "And they lost him?"

"The actual nature of the crimes didn't come to light until after Perik was arrested," Gail said, as if by rote. She crossed her arms. "Why me? If Ford vanished, why would Perik have any information?"

"Because the body they found in Toronto last night." He put a photo down. It wasn't a blonde. The woman had reddish blonde hair, just like Gail. The cut was very close to the style Gail had now. "Perik's obsessed with you," he explained. "This killer. He's close to Perik. Enough to know and care what you look like, Peck."

Picking up the photo, Holly frowned. "The dye and cut were done post mortem." There was a sound of surprise from the Mountie and amusement from Gail. Holly glanced up and saw her girlfriend smiling. "The dye on the scalp didn't set in the way it would on live flesh. He probably did this and washed the body, so no trace evidence except soap. Who's doing the autopsy?"

"You," said the Mountie.

Holly blinked. "Me?" She turned to look at Gail.

Taking Holly's hand, Gail cleared her throat. "We're living together," Gail said to the Mountie.

The officer looked unsurprised. "We know."

"Okay. Because you just said you want us to go to Toronto." Gail gestured at Holly and then herself. "And you just asked my girlfriend to do an autopsy on a woman who looks like me, and was killed as a calling card to get my attention. There's so much wrong with this..."

"It's not optimal," agreed the Mountie. "However Dr. Stewart was the only one to notice the medical treatment was different. And she was the one who identified it was the same as the original murders, which you tracked down. As unpleasant as this is, you're the pair we need to send."

Gail frowned. "What if I say no?"

"Gail," sighed Holly. She couldn't say no. Neither of them could.

"No. No. You don't have to do this. Pearson is a great coroner- medical examiner. He did a great job taking over after you left. And Traci is a damn detective sergeant. So they don't need us. They want us."

The blonde was at her most stubborn. She was hurt and angry and scared and she was shutting herself down. Holly squeezed Gail's hand. "They do, you're right."

Gail shook her head and tugged her hand free. "You want me to go back to Toronto, where they hate me, to question a serial killer who has a sick fascination with me?"

At least the Mountie looked chagrined. "She makes it sound like we're assholes."

"You kinda are," shrugged Holly.

"Thank you," grumbled Gail, getting up. "Why? Why me?"

The Mountie sighed. "And not a profiler?"

"For starters." Gail was pacing.

"Because it's not a profiler we need. It's a serial killer and the only survivor happens to be a detective. You know him."

Gail's voice was dry and angry. "I wouldn't call eight hours of being strapped to a table and drugged a shortcut to knowing anyone." She shook her head. "No."

As Gail went for the door, Holly stayed the Mountie with a hand gesture. She waited for the door to slam shut. "How many other people have you sent to talk to Perik?"

"Four," sighed the Mountie. "He won't talk to any of them. He just sits in the room and waits."

Holly nodded. "I'm not going to make her do it. She has to want to on her own." She stood up and walked to the door. Gail was waiting halfway down the hall, pacing. "Hey," she said softly.

"I'm pissed," the blonde grumbled as she stomped up to Holly, pivoted, and stomped back down the hall.

Sitting on a bench, Holly watched her girlfriend thud up and down the hall. "You don't have to go. You know that."

Gail stopped walking, standing in front of Holly. "Yes I do."

"Honey, every reason everyone wants you to do this is just an excuse. Anyone can talk to him and solve this case."

The blonde shook her head. "God, I wish that was true. I know this sick bastard, Holl. He won't talk to anyone else. He's a control freak. He knows about me now. Holly, I don't want that fucker or his mentor anywhere near you, okay? So no. You're going. I know you are, and I'm going with you."

Taking Gail's hands, Holly leaned into her personal space. "If you don't want me to go, there are hundreds of other medical examiners-"

"Holly." Gail leaned in and rested her forehead against Holly's. "I don't want to go. I don't want you to go. I don't want to have to go. I want to lock you up in a box and keep you far away from any of this." Her voice got quieter. "I want this never to have happened."

Holly sighed. "I can't make that go away."

"That's the thing," whispered Gail. "If it goes away, then I don't meet you. I don't break up with Nick, I don't ... I don't get to be here." The hands in hers squeezed tighter and Holly smiled.

"I'm here too," she reminded Gail.

Gail nodded. "I know."

"I'll be with you the whole time."

"Shit," muttered the blonde. "I really don't want to go to Toronto. God, I'm going to have to work with Price and McNally."

"And the truth comes out," laughed Holly softly.

Making a face, Gail stepped back and held one hand. "You suck. You know that, right?"

Smiling, Holly walked down the hall with Gail. "I do. But we suck less together."

Without thinking, Gail walked to the door expecting to be buzzed in. "Whoa, ma'am, I'm sorry, I need to see your ID before you can come in."

She turned and blinked at the puppy at the desk. "Rookies," she muttered and pulled out her badge. "Detective Gail Peck, Dr. Holly Stewart. We're from Vancouver… supposed to meet Sgt. Nash."

"Man you're a Peck?" The rookie was delighted and practically vibrating as he took the badge and tapped into the computer. "Wow! You're the Peck! Holy shit! Uh yes, ma'am! I'm sorry, ma'am. Here." He thrust the badge back and looked like it was Christmas.

The door buzzed and Gail pushed it open, eyeing Holly curiously. "I have no idea," murmured Holly as she walked in, wheeling her luggage behind her. What the hell did 'the' Peck mean?

But they both heard the rookie hiss at someone else that the blonde was 'the' Peck. And Gail found herself being watched by four wide-eyed rookies. "Yeah, this is weird," she muttered to Holly. "Come on. Guns and Gangs is upstairs."

"We should see Oliver first," cautioned Holly, pointing over at the office.

A young man Gail remembered popped up. "Officer— Detective Peck! You're really here!"

"Fox?" There was no tie on the rookie. Her rookie. Her ex-rookie. But it had been two, almost three years. Of course he was cut loose. "Is, uh, Sgt. Shaw around? We're early but—"

"Yes ma'am! Hang on, I'll get him!" He bounced, looked like he was about to hug Gail, and then dashed off down the hall.

The rookies were still watching them. Gail frowned and arched an eyebrow. The rookies shoved one of their lot forward, a young woman. "Uh— Um, excuse me, ma'am. But .. You're Gail Peck?"

Gail glanced at Holly. "Yes."

"Fox's TO?"

"I was, yes," frowned Gail, not following this.

"Wow… I … It's a— I never thought I'd— I mean, you're a legend." And the girl stuck a hand out. "It's— It's such an honor to meet you."

The eyes on her clicked a memory. That was hero worship. What the hell? Gail had never been the recipient of hero worship. At a nudge from Holly, Gail took the hand and shook it, sure the rookie was about to pass out. "If you say so," demurred Gail, still confused.

"Okay, rookies! Stop harassing my Peck!" The cheerful voice of Oliver Shaw echoed and the room went silent.

Here it came. The hate.

"Gail!" No… that was the delighted squeal of Chloe Price. Chloe, who shoved her cuffed perp into Andy's arms and ran over to throw her arms around Gail's neck. "Oh my god, you really came! I missed you so much!"

Gail knew her eyes were wide. It didn't help that Holly was an inch from giggling. Oliver cleared his throat, "Price, please let go of Peck before she decides to hurt you."

Giving one last squeeze, Chloe bounced and hugged Holly. "You two have to come to the Penny for drinks. Don't worry, we're buying, Gail." And Chloe hustled back over to McNally, who was looking a bit less excited.

The white-shirted Shaw smiled broadly as he came over. "My Peck." He was beaming. "Rookies! Go back to work!" The quartet scattered. "Sorry, they've been like puppies ever since they heard you were coming."

Gail frowned. "To… burn me in effigy?"

Holly smacked her arm. "Gail."

"What!? They don't —" She wanted to say they didn't like her, but frankly even Andy was looking over with an expression of intimidation and respect.

"Hello, Oliver," smiled Holly, accepting a hug from the man. "It's nice to see you again."

The man smiled. "You look good, Holly. See? Gail you can get tan in Vancouver."

"She started that way," grumbled Gail. "What the hell is going on, Ollie?"

Oliver led them to his office. "Trace will be right down. Gail… Do you talk to Steve ever?"

"Not lately," she admitted. They'd had a bit of a fight the last time she'd called him. Nothing new. He wanted her to consider talking to their parents, she wanted her parents to fuck off. Then he'd asked if she'd maybe speak up for him at a thing, and since the implication was that it was related to her parents, she'd said no. That was sounding like a mistake.

Sitting down, Oliver pulled out a file Gail recognized. It was a class information file from the academy. "We have a new special instructor. He talks about understanding orders and how to know when one's illegal."

Oh. Gail sat down, silent. That made sense, actually. Holly also looked surprised, "What has he been telling them?" Gail skimmed it and saw that Oliver had spoken up for Steve in this.

"The truth," said Traci as she came in and closed the door. "That Pecks used to rule the roost here, but they fell to corruption. And one of them was brave enough to step up and do the right thing, but it came at a cost. She lost her friends, got chased out of Toronto because no one trusted her. And it took them a couple years to realize that she'd been right all along." Traci exhaled. "Hi."

"Hi," replied Gail, looking up. "He makes it sound like I'm a hero."

Holly rested a hand on Gail's shoulder. "I keep telling you that you are," she said softly.

Gail turned to Holly. "You weren't here," she pointed out, wearily. They'd had arguments around that a few times and Gail finally held on to the simple fact that Holly hadn't been there and couldn't know objectively what had happened. After fuming, Holly finally agreed to that point.

"That doesn't mean I don't think it was brave and heroic to do the right thing," she replied. Which was her point. And Gail agreed to that.

"The point," smiled Oliver. "The point is that there is an entire division of people who feel guilty, my little Peck."

Gail looked from Holly to Oliver to Traci. "I don't like it. It's weird."

It was uncomfortable, like pants that were too tight. What had Juliet said? You can't go home again. She'd warned Gail that things would be different now, that she would feel like she didn't fit.

How right she was. Everything was off.

"How about we talk about the case," offered Holly. Gail could love her more just for that alone.

"I never thought I'd want to talk about Ross Perik more," she admitted, and pulled the files out. "But we have a serial killer, national, and the Mounties tapped me to work the case."

Traci stiffened. "So it's true."

Gail nodded. "Ross Perik was a copycat killer. And his master is still out there."

The hotel was nice. Gail had immediately fallen onto the bed while Holly wandered around. After the day going over case notes and files, Holly had ended with an autopsy prep. It was exhausting, but she felt weirdly more awake. Wired. Gail was just drained.

From the bed, Gail groaned, "Do we have painkillers?"

Holly smiled and pulled a bottle out from her purse. "Why don't you shower and we can order room service."

"Is that code for sex? I could do that." Gail propped herself up on her elbows.

"You have a headache," cautioned Holly, tossing the bottle over.

Gail popped two tablets. "Sex is good for headaches."

Holly paused. "Who told you that?"

"My hot girlfriend." Gail held her hands up to Holly, her lower lip jutting out just a little.

The pout face. It tended to make Holly do what Gail wanted. She stepped out of her shoes and took Gail's hands, letting her be pulled down into Gail's arms. They lay on the bed, feet dangling off the end for a while. It had been a long day going over the files and confirming everything they'd suspected. The autopsy would be tomorrow. Gail would interview Perik tomorrow. They would try and find the mentor tomorrow.

Tonight though was one more night where they could be friends and families and lovers. Where they didn't have to consider the oppressive weight of life and death and the horrors out there.

Holly caressed Gail's face. "Want to know what I think?"

"Cheese puffs, champagne, and sex?"

Smiling, Holly kissed her cheek. "I think you should wash your face, brush your hair, and we can meet Traci for dinner." Gail frowned. "Or."

"I like or already," noted the blonde.

"Or we can order in. Room service. Shower. Get in our jammies and watch some Netflix." Holly gently kissed Gail's cheek, her nose, and then her lips. "And sex. Either way." She kissed Gail again, letting herself melt into the comfort of kissing.

They stopped when the room's phone rang. "That's Traci," sighed Gail.

"I know." She kissed her again and got up, answering the phone. "Hello?" The front desk explained that there were police here to see them. "Yes, I work with the police," laughed Holly. "Tell them we'll be down in five."

Gail propped herself up on her elbows. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

"With your lack of opinion besides sex, I made a choice for us," smiled Holly. "Come on. I'm hungry. You're hungry. Traci's buying."

Like the drama queen she could be, Gail dragged herself up and over to bathroom. By the time they met up downstairs, though, she was in a somewhat more agreeable mood. And the dinner was alright. It was just Traci and Oliver, two people Gail tolerated more than anyone else, and they were happy to talk about simple things.

Oliver wanted to know about Holly moving to Vancouver. Traci quickly sussed out they were dating and wanted to know about that. They both asked about Juliet and Nick in round about ways. And they caught Gail up on gossip. Like how Chris was still sober. Andy was pregnant (Gail snorted at that). Luke Callaghan had showed back up to run homicide, much to Sam's annoyance (Gail had laughed, unkindly, at that one). Chloe and Dov were still together. Duncan had finally gotten his shit together over at TwentySeven.

But they didn't talk about Pecks. They didn't talk about cases. They talked about Leo and Izzy, sports and music. They talked about normal things that everyone else talked about. The weather, the lack of snow in Vancouver, was something that made the Toronto cops wistful. The fact that Gail's house was a few miles from her nearest neighbor was interesting.

"Wait a second, Gail. You live in the sticks?" Oliver looked delighted.

"No, I just ... Not a lot of houses there, that's all."

Traci shook her head. "Doesn't it take a long time to drive to scenes?"

"Not really," shrugged Holly. "And it's nice and quiet. I like it."

"You like it," Traci smiled. "How did that happen?"

Gail sipped her coke. "I asked her."

Holly smiled and leaned into Gail's shoulder. "You did." She reached up and touched Gail's cheek, turning her head so they were facing. "You did." She kissed her softly and Gail smiled a silly, happy grin.

Shaking her head again, Traci smiled. "I can't believe you two found each other again."

"It's fate, Nash," said Oliver firmly. "Celery told me, at Frank and Noelle's wedding, that they were intertwined, gonna be together in the end."

"Wish she'd told me that," Gail sighed.

"Well. Well, Gail, where's the fun in that? It's the journey, not the ending."

Holly kept smiling. "This isn't the end of anything, Oliver. It's just the start."

"It's a good start," agreed Oliver. "You two are good?"

Nodding, Holly patted Gail's knee. "Very good."

After dinner, after showers and an argument about the hotel bed and pillows, Gail sat and watched Holly braid her hair back. "Why do you encourage my antisocial tendencies?"

"Is that what your therapist said?" Holly glanced over at her girlfriend.

Gail nodded. "I don't like shared experiences, I don't wish people things, I hate weddings and people who are all... Happy. I hate happy people."

Tying her braid, Holly crawled across the bed and sat in Gail's lap. "I know all that, honey." She looped her arms around Gail's neck. "I don't like those things either."

Screwing up her face, Gail settled her hands on Holly's waist. "Yeah but I ... I'm not a good person."

Holly kissed her. "Yes, you are. You are good and smart and brave, Gail."

Sighing, Gail leaned against the headboard, keeping Holly close against her. "This is not the right romantic time, but I love you."

Unwillingly, Holly stiffened. "What?" She leaned back and eyed Gail.

"You. I love you." Gail's fingers toyed with the hem of Holly's t-shirt. "I do. I love you. And I know, I should tell you this over a romantic dinner or something, but... I just had a dinner where you told people we were good, and ... I ... I love you. Do I need a reason?"

"No." Holly shook her head and fiddled with the soft hairs at the back of Gail's neck. "No reasons. I just... I didn't expect it." Sucking her lower lip, Holly asked, "You love me?"

Gail nodded. "Very much."

It was hard not to kiss her just then, but Holly held back. "You're doing this a lot better than when you asked me to move in," she noted.

"I had a good coach," smiled Gail, and she leaned forward to kiss Holly. "I know I was all about sex earlier, but I just want to cuddle and ... God that sounded needy."

Holly laughed and got off her girlfriend. "That's okay. You can be as needy as you want, honey." They settled into the bed and turned the lights off, the glow from the city casting a soft haze on the room. As Gail's breathing evened out, her head nestled on Holly's shoulder, Holly asked, "You know I love you too?"

"I do," replied Gail, her breath warm.

"Good."

Closing her eyes, Holly smiled and let sleep take her away.

"Hello, Ross," said Gail as she walked in to the room.

Ross Perik looked paler than the last time she'd seen him four years ago. Smaller. "Detective Peck." His eyes drifted to her badge and he frowned.

"It's funny," Gail said, not sitting down. "We never bothered to look into your life before Toronto. Our mistake. We thought a dozen dead girls here, no way was this something bigger." She turned and looked in the mirror, ostensibly at herself but also at Perik in the reflection. Gail waited until he was about to speak and then went on, keeping him off kilter. "You're a man of patterns and habits, Ross. You like things the way they are, the way they should be. The way you want them. But you learned things and improved. You don't like broken women. You want them whole so they can be scared of you with their whole being. You want them healthy." Gail turned to look at him. "Your meticulous nature. That's how we found you, you know."

The man stared at her. "You left us."

Gail tilted her head to the side. "I'm not yours, Ross."

"You left Toronto."

Bingo. "Who have you been talking to, Ross?"

"And men. You left men for women."

"It's not someone new. It has to be someone old. A guard maybe?" No reaction. "A lawyer? A researcher?" She paused. "A doctor." That time she didn't ask. "A doctor. From Africa. A doctor who killed sex workers in Africa."

"Somalia."

"Somalia," repeated Gail. "Doctors Abroad in Somalia. Where no one would miss a dead whore or two."

Ross winced. "It's not... It wasn't like that. You know that."

"I know that," Gail said thoughtfully. "Because you beat me and drugged me and you would have raped and killed me, Ross. Is that how I know it?"

"You're angry," he said softly.

"Yeah, you're right I'm angry. I'm angry that we were sloppy. We screwed up. We should have had you and your master-"

"He's not my master!" Ross snapped, surging up and catching himself as the chain on his cuffs stopped him. The abrupt snap of metal threw him back down.

Gail smiled dangerously. It was the smile that made men cower and run for cover. The smile that insisted she was a bad girlfriend. "He's better than you, Ross. He's been doing this for ten years. You lasted, what, three? Too many girls, Ross. Too many in the same location. He is your master. Your better."

The prisoner stiffened. "I know, I know what you're doing."

"I'm sure you do, Ross. You're not stupid." Gail turned and walked back and forth. "Here's how I see it. He's still out there. A doctor. Who comes to see you. We're going to run the records on every single doctor who comes here, find someone who worked with Doctors Abroad, or had vaccinations matching the ones required to visit Somalia." She paused and looked at Ross. "And we will. And when we do, we will find him."

Now she waited. She took her time picking up the papers. She didn't look at the man cuffed to the table. He had the information. He had the seed of the idea. Because as much as Ross Perik loved keeping secrets, he loved flaunting them more. Perik wanted to show off his ego and his intellect. He wanted to have an upper hand. "Linus."

Gail swallowed her smile. "Linus."

Ross whispered, "I taught him. How to care for them. How to love them."

"You mean how to rape them," she said flatly.

Slamming his hands down, Ross roared. "No! No, no. I loved them. I love you."

It was revolting. It made her skin crawl. And Gail said nothing about it. She showed nothing. She revealed nothing. "You took care of them."

Ross exhaled. "Yes!" He looked relieved. Like Gail finally understood him.

Disgustingly enough, she did. "And he taught you how to hurt them. Linus did. Linus..."

"Carter. But that's not the name he used here." Ross looked around. "I made him! I did that. I showed him how to hide, how to work here. How to ..." He trailed off. "It's me. It's my ... My ... Mine. You're mine."

Gail leaned forward. "I'm not yours, Ross."

He looked away, pained. "You left."

"Linus tell you that?" When he nodded, Gail suddenly knew what to say. "Did he tell you why?" Ross shook his head and Gail smiled. "I dismantled a crime ring, Ross. I took down corruption and deceit and lies going back a hundred years here in Toronto." She stood up straight and lowered her voice. "I destroyed them, Ross. I ripped them apart. I salted the earth so they would never grow again."

His eyes widened. "Who?"

"The Pecks, Ross. I tore down my entire family." It was something to make a serial killer looked shocked, but Gail had done it. "And when they were all gone, yes I left. I left because there was no more challenge left for me here, nothing worth staying for." She eyed him carefully. "Nothing. No one." Not even him, she implied. And she knew he understood. "But. I came back." She pursed her lips. "For Linus."

The hit was perfect. Ross cringed and looked agonized. "For me."

"No. No, anyone could talk to you, Ross," she sighed. "In there?" Gail pointed to the glass. "That cop you killed, Jerry? He had a fiancé. She'd love to tear you apart, Ross. Shred your soul, flay you, lay it bare. No, we don't need you." Gail leaned back against the glass. "We could do all this without you. But something bothered me."

Ross looked up, confused. She'd kept him off kilter this entire time. Just like she was supposed to. "What? What bothered you?"

"Well. You know I've left. You know I'm a lesbian. But you don't know why, or when. So obviously Linus left Kara as a message. Telling me he knew. You knew." She exhaled. "I know and inside job when I see it, Ross. Who's the guy?"

Pressing his lips together, Ross shook his head. "What do I get?"

There it was. "You seem to already know my secrets, Ross."

"True," he admitted. And then he whispered, as if his voice was caressing the word, "Holly."

Gail stiffened and felt her entire body heat up. She fought the anger, the absolute hate pounding in her veins, and tried to calm down. Keep her voice calm. Even. "What do you want?"

"How did you meet her?" Damn it, he knew he had a hit.

Shaking her head, Gail went for the door. "No." She rapped and the door clicked. Gail stepped out and let the door close on his cries for her to come back.

"What the hell?" Traci looked horrified. "He knows who Holly is?"

"Just wait," Gail replied, closing her eyes. "He knows Holly. That means his guy, his contact, knows not just cops, but staff. Did you get details on Linus?"

Traci stammered a yes. "He's a doctor who specializes in long term incarceration. Does studies on it. Travels North America, visiting prisons."

"Where is he now?"

"Kent Institution. Juliet's headed there now."

Kent. That was the only maximum security prison in BC. "He'll be gone," she sighed and squeezed her eyes shut tight. "It's got to be a woman."

"What?" Traci sounded stunned.

Gail opened her eyes. "Holly doesn't have any guy friends. She wouldn't tell a guy about moving to Vancouver and getting back with me."

Her old friend looked confused. "What if it was from you?"

Shaking her head, Gail pointed out a fact. "I don't have any friends." As Traci opened her mouth, Gail shook her head again. "Traci, the only people in Toronto who knew I was dating Holly again are Steve and my mother."

"Both are under surveillance."

"They'd have been noticed," agreed Gail. "Lisa knows, but she loves Holly. She'd never talk about it. She's trustworthy."

"No one in Vancouver knows?"

Well. Gail frowned at that. "Everyone in Vancouver knows."

"What if ... He would have had to know you moved out there." Traci sighed. "Someone here. Do you think, God I can't believe I'm asking this. Do you think you missed anyone in your IA work?"

Shit. It was possible. Gail blew out a breath. "Possible. Pissed someone off so much they flipped to a serial killer?" Gail smirked. "If anyone could make people that mad, I could."

Traci laughed at the morbid joke. "Okay. I'll get Noelle to look into that." They both looked back at Perik who was muttering to himself. "What about him?"

They could walk away. Leave him hanging. Gail watched him start to fidget. "He looks like he's going to snap any second now," she mused. "You feel up for going in?"

"Me? Gail, I ... He killed Jerry!"

"He did," she nodded. "But go in. Sit down. Ask him for the name. Don't say anything else. No matter what he says, just wait."

"Gail..."

"Traci. If we don't do this, he'll think he owns us. He'll know, no matter what, that I'll come here for him. And he can't have that. We can't give him that power."

Traci looked at Gail for a long, long moment. But in the end she nodded and went in.

Right away Perik asked for Gail. Traci shook her head and asked for the name. And waited. She waited while he said he was never going to tell her, he would never tell anyone except Gail. He would only tell Gail. He shouted her name, wailed it, screamed...

It took longer than Gail thought it would.

It took almost two hours. But Traci was a trooper. She sat and waited in silence, staring at him.

"Naomi Hilton," he said quietly. Gail felt her blood go cold. Son of a bitch.

Traci glanced back at the glass and Gail rapped her fingers on it. As soon as she walked in, she asked, "Who the fuck is Naomi Hilton?"

"She's a guard at Pine Valley Correctional," sighed Gail. "Warden, we're done. Let him stew for another ten, twenty minutes. If he asks, tell him I went back to Vancouver and was talking about how Perik was a waste of time."

Without waiting for an argument, Gail opened the door to the hallway and tilted her head at Traci. "You ... Have a plan?"

"Yeah, but it means we have to talk to someone who won't be happy to see me."

Before today, Gail would have thought that number was much higher. Should she be happy that it was so small? Somehow she didn't think so.

"How come you know where to find her?" Traci didn't argue when Gail said she knew where to go but that didn't mean she understood it either.

Gail glanced over as she pushed the door to the bar open. "Trade secrets."

Scowling, Traci trotted behind. "I'm a detective too." She stopped in her tracks when she looked at the inhabitants of the bar. They were at a lesbian bar. And at the bar was the hunched form of a long-haired brunette.

Okay, so it was that kind of trade secret.

Gail sat at the empty stool beside the woman who looked rather familiar. "Hello, Frankie."

Oh! It was that kind of trade secret. Traci quickly took the stool on the other side.

Frankie looked left and right and then groaned. "Look, can you fuckers please stop hassling me?"

"Who's hassling?" Traci was surprised but Gail looked like she expected it.

In fact, Gail pretty much accepted and deflected it. "Not my jurisdiction, Frankie," shrugged Gail. "What are you having?"

"Their tap beer. It's okay."

Gail gestured to herself. "I'll pay. Table?"

"Oh it's that kind of talk. You know, you know I don't like you, Peck." The way Frankie said the name, the bar rippled.

Looking around, Traci saw a number of people turning to stare at Gail. And the blonde shrugged again, letting it flow off her back. "Tell me something new. I said I'd pay." She pulled out her wallet and put down a small stack of bills. "Remember, I'm the Peck with a badge still." That made the crowd give her a different look. Fear.

Without seeming to look, Frankie took the stack and finished her beer. "My office," she said firmly. The bartender nodded, pouring two glasses, and Frankie got up.

"What are we doing?" Traci frowned after the former detective.

"You're playing bodyguard. I'm buying a round and paying a PI for her work," shrugged Gail, putting down money for the drinks and taking them over to the table in the corner where Frankie was making herself at home.

"PI? Is that what she is?"

"Yeah, it was part of her plea deal. You didn't follow the case?"

Traci shook her head. "They asked me to keep out of it."

"Idiots. Frankie got out light, since she just fed information. Steve got time for the bomb and some other stuff. Bibby is still in jail for murder. They can't pin a death on my parents, so they just get to be under house arrest for ... Well forever."

Her head spun. How was Gail keeping tabs on all that? Why was she? "And we're working with a known traitor because...?"

Gail snorted. "Because she knows her shit. Come on. Don't you contract out?"

"Yeah but not... I mean..." Traci frowned, getting a coke, and followed Gail. Frankie was a reminder of things in a different way than Gail had been. Where Gail rebuilt herself from the fire of her family's crash landing, Frankie had been a willing agent of the evil that had filled Toronto policing. Frankie reminded her of Steve.

The blonde seemed to navigate this world, the slightly greasy underbelly of the law, without much concern. Maybe that was from the half year she spent undercover with Juliet. Maybe it was just that Gail didn't give a damn what people saw her as, Peck or not. Maybe it was hurting Gail as much as it did Traci, but she was better at hiding it.

"You know I'm not into threesomes with straight girls," drawled Frankie, eyeing Traci unhappily.

"Neither is my girlfriend," agreed Gail.

"And how is the doc? Happy to hear you're here with your ex?"

Gail shrugged. "She asked me not to punch you." Taking her phone out, Gail tapped and handed it over.

"Naked pics? I feel like I missed that." But Frankie took the phone and frowned. "Well there's a face I haven't seen in a while."

"She's working with a serial killer."

The snark and aggressive humor washed off Frankie's face. Once a cop, always a cop it seemed. "What? She's ... What?"

Gail took the phone back and swiped. Traci caught a glimpse of Perik. "Recognize him?"

"Yeah." She looked up at Gail and then Traci and back to Gail. "Yeah, I know who he is." The asshole behavior faded. Frankie leaned forward and asked, seriously, "What do you need?"

Swiping again, Gail showed a third photo. The photo of the dead girl. "Her."

"Tried looking in the mirror?" Frankie frowned. "That's fucking creepy."

"Picture her a natural brunette," suggested Traci. When both Gail and Frankie looked up, she explained. "Her eyebrows."

Gail smiled at her, pleased. "She was a sex worker."

"Is that a dig at my love life?" But Frankie had her own phone out, tapping through something. "Kathy Michaels. Goes by ... Starshine. Works at the strip club out on the edge of town. She's one of my... She was one of my tipsters." Frankie frowned. "How can I help?"

"We're going to need a lot more information," sighed Gail.

Frankie gave them everything she had. And, in the end, it was good police work that did it. There was no luck, no stumbling on the right person, no more death. Traci held her breath when ETF burst in on Naomi's house, arresting her and finding a basement that clearly gave Gail a bit of a flashback. But no one was hurt.

The Mounties picked up Linus at the airport with little fanfare in Calgary. There was no evidence on him, but the trace he'd left at Naomi's was enough to connect him to the death in Toronto. His flight patterns associated him with the other deaths.

Once you had the right information, everything else often clicked into place. Everything just made sense.

Traci ran the interrogation for Linus, who was not told about Gail's presence or involvement in the case. That had been Gail's demand. If he knew she'd left Vancouver, fine, but she had family in Toronto and that would be their cover if he mentioned it. As Gail had predicted, though, Linus did not. When showed the photos of the dead girls and asked why he'd died the hair, Linus said it was a gift to his protégé.

When asked why now, Linus shrugged and said that since Ross had failed to draw his angel back, it was something he could do. It was not surprising that Linus knew they'd figured it out, his relationship with Perik. He was smart. He'd been under the radar for years. He was surprised they'd found him at all, but weirdly did not ask how. He seemed to accept that his luck was up.

Linus' life sentence in Canada wouldn't be a question. All that was really left was to argue what country got dibs. Since the United States still had the death penalty, there was no chance they'd extradite him. Gail muttered that it was for the best, since they didn't know if there were more. How many people had Linus trained? How many were still out there?

While everyone stared at her in horror, it was Holly who mused aloud that at least the odds were that any more apprentices would lack Perik's obsession. Traci opted not to point out that they might hate Gail because she'd helped take their mentor down. After all, it had been a group effort, and Gail had not been front and center for much on purpose.

After the case was handed to the lawyers, the rounds at the Penny came from everyone to everyone. Even Frankie found herself hugged by Chloe and forced a few beers by Oliver. The gang was happy to have Gail around, happy to see her and Gail, and happy to celebrate with her. For the most part, Gail stayed in a seat beside Holly, talking when people talked to her, but not much else. Holly was far more gregarious and chatty, happy to talk about everything including how much she liked the West coast.

It took another two days to finish all the paperwork, and Traci found herself wishing Gail would stay. "Are you sure... I mean, you could come back."

Gail looked around, hitching her purse up on her shoulder. "I don't think so, Trace. I don't fit in anymore."

"Gail," she sighed.

"No, not like that," smiled Gail. "I think. I think I could fit in here. If I wanted. It's not that though."

"Then... Why? We miss you." She paused and admitted, "I miss you."

The blonde looked away. "God, don't get all sappy on me, Trace. I miss you too. Sometimes I miss Andy, but I swear if you tell her, I'm buying Leo a drum set."

Traci laughed. She looked at the evil smile on Gail's face and she laughed. "I promise."

Gail smiled. "It's... It's like a snake trying to get back into its shredded skin, Trace. I don't fit. I'm different. But. It's okay. It's really okay."

And Traci understood. "Yeah. Yeah it's okay." She hesitated and then hugged Gail close. "Please don't let the fact that you're 3000 kilometers away be an excuse not to visit, Gail."

"Four thousand five hundred."

"What?" Traci let go and eyed Gail.

"It's four thousand five hundred kilometers- look, I live with a nerd," laughed Gail.

Traci hugged her again. "You are a secret, Star Wars loving, nerd loving, geeky woman, Gail. And you're one of my best friends."

"I'm going to tell Andy you said that," teased Gail. But she hugged Traci back. "I have a plane to catch. But it goes both ways, okay? Bring Leo out. We have a ton of awesome stuff out West."

The hugs were passed around to Oliver and even Chloe before Holly and Noelle arrived to whisk Gail off to 'one last thing' and a flight home. Traci watched them leave and sighed. A comfortable arm wrapped around her shoulder. "Hard to say goodbye, isn't it?"

"I didn't think I missed her as much as I did." Traci leaned into Oliver. He was safe. Stable. Comfortable.

"Yeah. Me too."

"I wish she'd come back."

Oliver shook his head. "She can't, darlin' Nash. She can't." He squeezed her shoulders. "What do you see when you look at her?"

"My friend. The rookie I came up with. The snarky bitch I used to hang out with."

"That's the problem, Trace. She's not just that anymore." Oliver let go and leaned against the railing. "She's not the Peck we knew. You know that story about the ugly duckling?" When Traci nodded, Oliver nodded back. "All she needed to be that swan was to leave the nest."

Traci frowned at Oliver but then realized he was saying the same thing Gail had, with the snake metaphor. And Traci knew what it meant. "She outgrew us."

"She did, she did," sighed Oliver. "I'm proud as hell."

When you put it that way, Traci was too.

Their one last thing before leaving Toronto was not something Noelle would have guessed. But she and Holly sat outside the office waiting. They had driven to the big building right after leaving Fifteen, watched Gail walk into the office, sat and waited. Holly pulled a small notebook out and started writing.

A few moments later, three other people named Peck walked down the hall and into the office with a suited individual and a uniformed officer.

After half an hour, Noelle blurted, "Why aren't you in there?"

Holly looked up. "I would probably say some very unkind things." She nudged her glasses up and went back to her notebook.

"Do you know what they're talking about?"

"I know what Gail wants to talk about." Holly brushed at the notebook. "But that's her business, Noelle. I'm not about to betray her confidence."

That was fair. Noelle frowned and leaned over. "What are you doing?"

"Drawing. It calms my nerves." She held the notebook over and Noelle saw herself. "Your hair is a pain in the ass," sighed Holly, massaging her hand.

The drawing was stunning. It was just a simple sketch but Noelle thought it was better than a photograph. "That's amazing."

"Thank you," smiled Holly. "The other pages are Toronto and Gail, mostly."

"May I?" When Holly nodded, Noelle flipped through the pages. They were mostly Toronto. The Penny, Fifteen Division, a squad car. All moments and places Noelle recognized. But then there were people. Oliver laughing with a cup of coffee. He was holding the DAD mug that Gail used to steal. Chloe smiling at something.

And Gail. Gail looking pensive and frowning at a computer at Fifteen. Gail eating a meal. Gail lost in thought. Gail, sleeping at what was probably their hotel, curled up around a pillow with shadows hiding her face. But that didn't feel embarrassingly intimate. No, that feeling was reserved for the unobtrusive sketch, barely a roughed in outline, of Gail laughing.

There was something light and free about it, something open that Noelle hadn't seen in Gail before.

Noelle blushed and handed it back. "You draw a lot from memory?"

"Gail doesn't sit still often," smiled Holly, tearing out the page with Noelle. "Here. Frank might like it."

"You know, I forget you came to our wedding."

Holly grinned sheepishly. "Gail and I stole a bottle of champagne and got drunk in the coat closet."

Laughing, Noelle carefully put the sketch in her purse. "That sounds like Gail."

"It was my idea." She shrugged. "I wanted to ... I don't know. I wanted to sit with her. She was so pretty and funny and goofy." Holly looked up. "I liked her. A lot." A pause. "I like Gail a lot. I want to be here for her."

They both looked back at the door. "But sometimes the ones we love have have to do things like this on their own."

"She does," sighed Holly. "Perik was easy. He's just deranged."

Noelle leaned back and shook her head. "He's evil. I don't know what her parents are."

That was a lie. Just over two years ago, she'd heard what the Pecks thought of their daughter and Noelle had been appalled. Gail had worn a wire to her own family dinner. Twice. She'd done two dinners with just Bill and Elaine followed by a family barbecue with most of the Pecks in attendance.

They all saw her as lazy, indolent, and apparently average. She wasn't reliable. She wasn't loyal. They called her Gail the Fail. According to Gail, it had been like that her whole life. It got worse after she failed the entrance exam, and her (now deceased) godfather had to get her into the Academy. To Noelle, Gail admitted she'd thrown the exam on purpose. She'd hoped that by failing, maybe she could get out of the obligations and weight of a Peck.

Her godfather had apologized for pushing her before he died, but that was before all this happened. Gail admitted she'd wished he'd been alive still so he could maybe say something like he was proud of her in front of her parents. Because no one had ever done that. Not anyone her parents respected at least. If it hadn't been so sad, the idea would have been delightful.

That trial was the last time Gail had spoken with her parents in person. She'd seen and talked to Steve a few times, telling Noelle about each one, and the siblings apparently had come to a peace. The same was clearly not true of her parents, though.

The door slammed open and the senior Pecks stormed out, followed by the lawyer and the officer. It was another moment before Gail and Steve came out. "Well, that went better than dinner," mused Steve. He was gaunter than the last time Noelle had seen him. Haggard. Steve was exhausted and drained.

Gail sighed. "It could have been worse," she replied, and looked for Holly.

The quiet doctor smiled. "No spitting?"

"Nope." Gail reached over and Holly took her hand to stand up. "You remember Steve?"

"It's been a while." Holly shook Steve's hand. "I heard you were teaching classes at the Academy?"

Steve nodded. "Ethics and morals. I did some guest classes at some of the local universities too. How to know an immoral order. Army may even want me to speak at their officer training." He looked a little embarrassed. "Use what they gave you, huh, Garbage Pail?"

With a thin smile, Gail shrugged. "Something like that. Mom and Dad are being sued, meanwhile. Civil cases over the criminal ones. They wanted me to speak up for them. Character witness."

Holly frowned. "You said no, right?"

"I said I didn't think they'd want me to." Gail shook her head, disappointed.

Steve chimed in, "That's when they stormed out. We're blood traitors."

"They didn't really say that, did they?" Noelle wasn't sure if she was surprised or not about that. But Gail's brief nod confirmed that they did. "Gail, if you and Holly get married, take her name. Your family are idiots."

And suddenly Noelle saw the laugh that Holly had drawn. The bright, happy, full of joy expression. The smile. "No way," laughed Gail. "Where's the fun in being the last Peck standing if I'm not the Peck?"

"Long may you reign, sis," smiled Steve.

Steve did not come with them to the airport, making his goodbyes at the building and heading back to whatever he was doing to reclaim his life. As Noelle dropped the couple off, she watched Gail take Holly's hand and walk to the check-in line together. It was a small moment, something people did every day, but not something she'd seen much from Gail when she'd lived in Toronto.

It was Oliver who said Gail was a fledgling bird, finding her wings and exploring who she was. At least Noelle could take comfort in knowing that part of the person Gail became was who she'd helped make.

One more chapter to go. It's shorter. And no Perik. I'm intentionally leaving it a little open ended, that they did catch the master, but there could maybe be more apprentices. Leave room for a sequel, always.