Gail woke up to the smell of coffee. She looked up from her bent position on her desk into Traci Nash's eyes. "Thought you could use this," Traci placed the coffee on Gail's desk in the detective's squad room.

Gail scrubbed her hands over her face, "What time is it?"

"About 8:30 in the morning. You been here all night?"

"Yeah. Luke was here too," Gail looked around.

"I saw him walking into the locker room. I think he was going to take a shower. Luke called me and the FBI boys yesterday and told us to come in today. He said Holly recovered a hair from the victim…Gail, are we okay?"

"I can work with you, Trace."

"But…"

"Trace, you should have told me."

"She begged me not to."

"And you've known me longer."

"Gail, you've seen her. She sounded like she looks, six months ago. I felt like I was the only person she was telling the whole truth to. She needed a friend. She was absolutely wrecked about it all. For what it's worth, I think she was trying to protect you."

"Traci, I'm a goddamned grown woman and a police officer. I can take care of myself." Gail started again seeing the look on Traci's face, "And, if Perik is the reason that she didn't tell me, the last person she should have gone to was you. The fucking last person, Trace."

"Gail, I happened to call her the day they found the first body. She knew the details of the Perik cases. She was working in the lab when it happened. Did you know that?" In response Gail shook her head. Traci continued, "I could tell something was wrong. I made her tell me."

"Whatever," Gail waved her had dismissively.

"No, not whatever. Don't 'Peck' this with me. I know this tears you up inside, Gail. I want to be your friend. Please, please let me be there for you like you were there for me when Jer died."

"It's my…"

"Don't start that shit. One person is responsible for Jerry's death and that's Ross Perik. Just like it's not your fault that these women happen to look like you. It's the killer's fault, and I'm pretty sure Ross Perik is involved."

"Fuck yes he is."

"So."

"So what?"

"So are we okay?"

Gail looked at her for a moment, considering, and relented. Traci was her best friend. Traci took care of Holly, whom Gail loved more than anyone. If Holly wouldn't share with Gail, she was glad she had shared with Traci. Gail finally said, "Yeah, we're okay. You're the only person besides me and Steve that understands 'Peckspectations.'"

Luke gestured to the murder board. Brandon, Marc, Traci, Ryan and Gail were all in the conference room. They had just had lunch, and the remnants were still scattered around the room. Ryan had her feet up on the table and was leaning back in her chair, her long jean clad legs ending in nicer cowboy boots than yesterday but cowboy boots nonetheless. "Have we found the connection between Margaret Davis and Gail?" Gail's head tilted toward Ryan in response. "You know what I mean, Peck."

Marc answered, "Talked with Davis' parents. Evidently she was an actress, but she worked as a waitress at a local restaurant & bar to pay the bills. She served alcohol and that's why her prints were on file for identification. Gail indicated that 'waitress' was both an ex-profession and an undercover persona in the information that she gave us."

Brandon continued, "Parents, Lisa and Bradley Davis, address in Sunnybrook. They cut her off when she took her 'dabbling in theater' to the 'I wanna be an actress stage' and hadn't seen her recently enough to give us what color her hair was."

"Shit," Traci breathed out.

"Peckspectations, come in all kinds of packages evidently," Gail said. "Sunnybrook, pricey neighborhood…that's a lot of money to give up, a lot of privilege."

"This girl musta had a stubborn streak a mile wide," Ryan reached for her cup and sipped from the straw.

"Well, according to Holly, she was a hell of a fighter," Gail stated.

"Speaking of Dr. Stewart, has anybody heard from her yet today? I was hoping we'd have DNA results by now," Luke looked around at the group. Everyone shook their heads. "Parker, can you…?"

"Yeah, I'll give her a call." Ryan stood and walked out of the room.

Gail tried to not watch her walk out. She failed. She closed her eyes and tried not to think back to the time when it would have been her job to call and find out what Dr. Stewart had. She looked over and saw Traci staring at her. Damn Traci and her observation skills.

Luke and Marc started a side conversation. Brandon was working on his laptop. Traci leaned over to Gail, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Gail answered.

"Gail, I don't know if it's because I know you better, or if you just used to be a better liar but…"

"Shut up," Gail rolled her eyes.

Ryan walked back into the room, "Holly is on her way. She has the results. She wants to deliver them in person."

Holly arrived about ten minutes later, blue folder in hand, worried look on her face. Gail couldn't stop her reflexive smile at the sight of it. She remembered excuses and interrogation rooms. Gail closed her eyes and shook her head to stop the onslaught of memories.

Holly spoke, further breaking into Gail's thoughts, "Hey guys. The results were…interesting."

"What do you mean?" Brandon asked.

"The blonde hair came back with a female profile," Holly stated not looking at Gail.

"Wait? What?" Luke questioned furrowing his brow.

"Female. The hair came from a Caucasian woman," Holly said without further explanation.

"Holly, what does that mean?" Ryan asked.

"She's afraid it's mine," Gail answered looking from Ryan to Holly. "That's it, isn't it? You're afraid the killer planted it. You're afraid it's mine somehow," Gail's face was hard, unyielding.

"Yes," Holly sighed, still not looking Gail in the eyes. "Yes, that's a possibility. I'd like to take some samples and exclude you if possible."

"Whatever it takes. Let's get this over with. What do I have to do?" Gail asked.

"I just need to collect a few hairs from you just to be safe. It should only take one but…"

"You like to be thorough," Gail interrupted her with a sad smile.

"Yes," Holly finally looked Gail in the eyes and smiled back.

"So, what do I have to do?"

"I brought some gloves and some specimen collection bags. If you don't mind?" Holly asked as she approached.

"Like I said, whatever it takes."

Luke spoke up, "Why don't you two do that, and we'll all take a break for ten minutes. I could use some more coffee." Everyone but Holly and Gail left the room.

Holly placed the baggies on the table next to Gail. She took out a pair of latex gloves and tweezers. "So, I have to pull your hair out by the root. It shouldn't hurt any more than getting your eyebrows waxed."

"You know I hate that," Gail spoke looking up into Holly's eyes.

"I do. I'm sorry," Holly replied as she put on the gloves. Holly leaned down to better see what she was doing. They were inches from each other. "I'm going to part your hair, and extract a few hairs with the tweezers, okay?" Holly asked before making any move to touch Gail.

"Whatever. Just let's get it over with before they all get back. I don't need them looking at me like I'm some sort of lab rat too. 'Serial Killer Muse' was starting to grow on me," Gail looked away.

"Gail…" Holly said in a soft tone.

"C'mon Holly. Let's do this," Gail looked back at Holly and into her eyes. Holly reached out gently and brushed Gail's bangs off her forehead. Gail took a deep breath at the touch. Holly closed her eyes briefly. Then opened them again.

"Ready?" Holly asked.

"You know, the last time you were pulling my hair out was a much better experience."

Holly laughed a genuine throaty laugh. "It was," Holly nodded her head in agreement. "Thank you for making me laugh, Gail. You always seem to know how to make me laugh." Holly parted Gail's hair and prepared to extract the hairs she needed.

"I just think of the nerdiest thing I can think of, and let it spill out of my mouth."

"I would hardly classify our sex life as nerdy," Holly arched an eyebrow behind her glasses.

"No," Gail tried desperately to keep the quiver out of her voice "that's not the way I'd have described it." Holly chose that moment to pluck one of Gail's hairs. Gail hissed as Holly pulled a few more. "Nice distraction technique there, Lunchbox."

"Well, you were hissing so I don't think it was entirely successful," Holly flashed her little half-smile.

"Well, if you really wanted to distract me…" Gail started but was interrupted by Brandon coming back into the room to retrieve his laptop.

"I'm sorry. I just needed to get my laptop," he said.

"It's okay. We're finished anyway," Holly said backing away from Gail.

"Yeah, I guess we are. Aren't we?" Gail looked into Holly's eyes. Holly didn't reply. She just left the room.

Monday morning arrived bright and early with no further contact with Holly. Gail wasn't sure if she should be grateful or disappointed. Holly battered her system like a storm arriving on land. The Dream was back in full force, but last night Ryan was in it too. She had started off spouting 'helpful' things like, "You should have been better…You should have protected her…You shouldn't have thrown her away," while Gail was making love to Holly. Then Gail was treated to an X-rated view of Holly and Ryan making love on repeat.

Gail arrived at her desk pissed off beyond all recognition. Unfortunately for Dov he was the first person she encountered that morning. "Morning, Gail."

"Shut your stupid face."

"Whoa, I haven't done anything today. What's wrong with you?"

"Why is it, when I respond to you the way that you deserve, you assume that I have the problem? You. Have. A. Stupid. Face. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Gail spewed out.

Traci walked in and could immediately determine what was going on. She walked up to Dov. "I've got this. Go."

"Gladly," Dov replied as he walked out of the room and left.

Traci sat at her desk opposite Gail. They were alone in the detectives' squad room. "Wanna tell me why you just took Dov's head off?"

Gail made a face. "I don't have to explain why I didn't ooze politeness to that idiot."

"Gail, he's one of your best friends…"

"And if that isn't a condemnation on my life…"

"Gail…"

"I don't want to talk about my feelings," Gail sneered derisively.

"Okay. I'll talk about them. You were different yesterday after Holly and you were in the conference room by yourselves. Did something happen?"

"No."

"I don't believe you," Traci sing-songed.

"I don't really care."

"Oh, but you do, Gail. I know you," Traci said as she looked at Gail solemnly.

"Trace," Gail huffed.

"Just tell me. It'll be easier all around."

"Fine. She had to pull the hair out of my head with tweezers, but she had to sort of brush my hair back. It was the first time she's touched me since she's been back. We talked…well, not really talked but we exchanged a few sentences back and forth. She said I can always make her laugh."

"That doesn't sound like a bad thing, Gail."

"I had made some crack that was…sexual in nature. That's what made her laugh. Then Brandon walked in and apologized, and she backed away like she was trying to get away from me and she said it was okay that Brandon was there and that we were finished and I said 'yeah, I guess we are' and she left."

"Oh, Gail, why would you say that?"

"I don't know. She…I can't think when I'm around her."

"Do you really think that?"

"She's with Ryan now."

"Has Holly told you that?"

"No."

"Has Ryan?"

"No, but it's obvious…"

"No, Gail. Until one of them tells you, you don't know."

"I had a stupid dream about them last night," Gail said and Traci looked at her and arched her eyebrow. "No," Gail said but Traci just waited her out. "Fine. I…I've had this dream. I call it The Dream. I've had it since Holly left. But in the dream we're…together…you know? It's awful sometimes. She never talks and I want her to talk in the dream. She talks a lot you know."

"Yes. She can. Especially, it seems, around you," Traci looked at Gail kindly.

"But last night…Ryan was there…and then…it…I wasn't part of the dream anymore. I was on the outside," Gail finished, begging Traci with her eyes to understand without her having to say more.

"Gail, it was just a dream. You know, I used to have dreams about Jer all the time. Waking up was the worst part. I talked to the psychologist about it. She said it was just my subconscious trying to work things out. You have to remember that whatever happens in your dream - it's yours. Not Holly's. You're trying to work things out in your own head. Now, Gail, here's the important part: do you still want to be with Holly?"

"She's in San Francisco and with Ryan."

"Not what I asked you."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Then that is another thing entirely. That's what you focus on."

"I think I need to focus on trying to figure out who is killing these women," Gail retorted sardonically.

"You're a great multitasker, Peck."

"I am that."

A/N: Thank you all for all the favorite follows and reviews. I'm glad you all seem to be so passionate about my story. Thanks to bailchab for being the best beta around. Speaking of Bailey, after she read this, she threatened to throat punch Brandon. All I ask is that you limit any metaphorical throat punching to characters.