Ho Ho Ho. Happy holidays. :)
This story is 3 years in the making. I write at the speed of a sloth. Expect 6 chapters.
Chapter 1
"So? Who did you get?" Traci pinched the slip of paper from Gail's fingertips before she even had a chance to read the name printed on it. "Dr. Howel Steward. Forensic Pathology Unit," Traci read out loud before handing it back.
Gail directed her perpetual scowl at Oliver. "I have no freakin' clue who that is."
"That's kinda the point, darlin'." He pushed his hat full of Secret Santa names towards Dov.
She flopped onto the nearest vacant office chair and sighed. "Why are we even doing this?"
"You, my petulant Peck, need to get those earholes of yours examined. The white shirts already explained why during parade." Even though Oliver himself wore a white shirt, he still didn't consider himself one.
Dov reached into the hat and pulled out a name. "I think she was too busy eye-boning the box of donuts, sir."
"Can you blame me? Fifteen always fork out for the fancy shit when the white shirts are here."
"And by fancy shit she means sprinkles." Traci eyed her with a smirk. "They were delicious, by the way."
Gail poked her tongue out, still annoyed that she'd missed out on the delicious treats despite her mad dash to get to the other side of the room as soon as they were dismissed. Apparently, everyone else had had the same idea too.
Oliver shook his head. "Well, if you'd been paying attention like everyone else you'd know that because of a reported lack of cohesion between the police service, chief coroners office, and fire department within our district last quarter, we will all be participating in an ongoing initiative to strengthen these working relationships. Secret Santa is just the beginning. If you're annoyed at this, just wait until you hear about what they have planned for New Years Eve."
She groaned as Oliver went on to explain the rules to her again. With a spending limit of twenty dollars, the aim was to get to know your Secret Santa recipient and use what you learn to buy them an appropriate gift for Christmas. But there was a catch: You had to do so without going directly to the source. This meant hitting up their colleagues to gather information, maximising your interactions with the department. Going through your Secret Santa's recipients trash and stalking them was a no-no, Oliver had made that clear right off the bat. If you already knew the person then you'd lucked out. Gifts were to be handed out at the Christmas party in two weeks time, or collected at a later date if you were unable to attend.
"I'd like to have a serious word with the brainchild of this so called initiative," Gail huffed.
"Maybe if you were nicer to people we wouldn't be having to do this at all," Dov stated.
Traci swiftly slapped him up the back of the head. "Epstein, stop being an antagonistic little twerp."
Dov looked over at Oliver for sympathy. Thankfully, their superior didn't fall for his pleading puppy dog eyes.
"What she said," Oliver added.
"I'm plenty nice…" Gail finally responded, trying not to let Dov's comment get to her, "to people who deserve it." She ran her finger across the ink-smudged name and scoffed. "Dr. Howel Steward. My guy sounds like a seventy five year old hoarder of stamps and receipts."
"Did you know Canada Post recently released an awesome set of stamps called Birds of Canada? Only five bucks, too." Dov couldn't have been more enthused if he tried.
"I guess I know what I'm getting you for Christmas." Traci chuckled.
"You really are the biggest dork," Gail added with sincerity.
"Wait!" Dov held up his hand. "We're supposed to get each other gifts?!"
Gail punched him in the arm. He conveniently forgot this fact every year. "You've seen my Christmas list. I stuck it on the fridge."
"What's with all the hitting today?" he asked as he rubbed his tiny bicep. "And I thought that was this weeks grocery list."
Gail's stomach grumbled at the mention of food. She decided then and there that she'd get a start on her research into Howel Steward over a burrito at lunch. Did looking them up on social media count as stalking? She pondered that as she made her way to the locker-room to change out of her uniform. The half-shift she covered for Chris was over and she planned on spending a good chunk of the rest of her day Christmas present shopping for her parents and dickhead brother. After last years rushed Christmas Eve shopping debacle, she promised herself that she'd get in much earlier this year so her mother and father wouldn't end up with a pair of socks, and her brother a two dollar water pistol. That, and her family were celebrating early this year because her parents were going to Whistler with friends for the holidays.
Twenty minutes later, Gail strolled into her favorite park where Eddie's Burrito truck parked every Wednesday. Okay, so the park was a bit of a dump but the burritos more than made up for that. To think, this time last year she was tackling Eddie to the ground and arresting him for theft and now he owned a thriving business. Luckily, he didn't hold the arrest against her. Actually, he seemed genuinely grateful. He'd said it was the kick in the ass he needed to get his shit together and his kids back in his life.
"We missed you last week," Eddie said as the line moved and she stepped up to the service window.
"Dad was worried." His eighteen year old daughter, Talia, appeared out of nowhere and handed another customer their change. "Thought you'd been shot."
"Or worse, found a superior burrito to inhale," Eddie added with a wink.
"I can assure you, there isn't such a thing." She smiled warmly. See? She could be nice! Stupid Dov!
"What can I get for you? Your usual? Hold the tomato, right?"
Gail was a creature of habit but today she couldn't go past the special written on the chalkboard menu. "Actually, since I'm in a bit of a festive mood, I'll have the Scorched Santa, no tomatoes."
"Excellent choice. Just got the short ribs out of the smoker this mornin' and they're juicy as heck and fallin' off the bone."
Her mouth salivated as Eddie went about preparing her lunch. The smells coming from inside the truck were to die for and she couldn't wait to dig in. She would need all the fuel she could get to make it through her dreaded shopping expedition.
As Gail waited for her order, she became distracted by the conversation happening in line behind her.
"Lunch is on me today," a man with an incredibly deep voice offered.
"That's not necessary, Dylan," a woman replied.
"Nonsense. It's what bosses do."
Gail scoffed. She definitely needed to get better bosses, with the exception of Oliver.
"But if you tell any of our colleagues I said that, I will have to kill you. And I know of about one hundred and fifty different ways to dispose of your body."
Gail raised her eyebrow.
"Oh, I know you do," the woman laughed.
"Anyway, this was sorely overdue. Not only have I been a bad boss, but I've been an even worse friend. You've been in Toronto a month now and I wanted to catch up and see how everything was going. I still can't believe I managed to lure you here."
"I was ready for a change. And this seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up. I mean, your facilities are state-of-art, and the people are top of their field. Well, most of them."
Gail smirked, assuming that was a dig at her boss.
"You wound me. And being four thousand kilometres away from your ex-wife probably helps."
"Not gonna lie, it helps a lot," the woman laughed again, only this time it sounded different, strained almost. "God, Dylan, Mia really fucked me over."
"Did she really steal your cat?"
"Yup. Claimed that because Lucy was adopted and registered under her name, that she was her rightful owner, and that I would have a hard time disputing that in court, even though Lucy was a gift to me."
Yikes. If it were Gail, she'd have stolen the cat right back. If she liked cats, that is.
"But at that point, I had no fight left in me. My mental health had taken a serious nose dive. Things had gotten so ugly between us, even after we signed the papers, that I needed to get out of Vancouver. It almost killed me, leaving Lucy with her."
"I'm really sorry, Holly. I didn't realize things had gotten so bad."
Gail found herself feeling sorry for the woman-Holly, the lesbian cat lady, too.
"I might see how I feel in a couple of months and try to broach the subject with her again but I highly doubt she'll comply." Holly sighed, "I really miss that asshole."
"I'm guessing you mean your asshole cat, not your asshole ex-wife?"
Gail tried to contain her laughter as one of their phones chimed.
"Correct. My asshole ex-wife can go eat a-"
"Shit! Do people not don't understand the meaning of a lunch break? Sorry, Hol, but I gotta go put out a fire at the office. I feel terrible leaving you here. Rain-check? Here's twenty bucks. Get the Big Bad Beanritto, it's delicious."
Even if Eddie made the best burritos in the city, Gail would soon die before ever recommending anyone eat fake grey meat. Hadn't the poor lesbian cat lady suffered enough?
"Sorry for the wait." Talia's voice arrested Gail's attention back and she was handed a small carry bag with her food. "Dad added some extra dipping sauces, on the house."
Gail thanked her, paid, and, as always, left a generous tip. For a second she wondered if that was why Eddie liked her, then immediately dismissed the idea as ridiculous. When she turned around to leave, she almost stepped right into the lesbian cat lady who she'd just been eavesdropping on.
Holly, as it turned out, was not even close to what Gail had pictured her looking like in her head. She expected someone in their forties, perhaps with a frazzled appearance that reflected the toll of a broken down marriage, but Holly was far from frazzled, nor in her forties. Actually, they looked to be about the same age. Holly also had some serious sexy librarian vibes going on, and Gail wasn't entirely sure what to do with that thought.
"Shit, sorry!" Gail stepped back, putting a more appropriate distance between them.
"No harm done." Holly had a disarming lopsided smile that forced Gail to smile back. "I like your scarf," she stated.
Gail looked down at the warm material wrapped around her neck and then back into equally warm brown eyes. "Oh. Thanks. It's Scottish." Her mother had given her the purple tartan scarf for her birthday last month. Apparently the color complimented her eyes. Speaking of eyes… "I like your glasses." She had no idea why she was returning the compliment. Her glasses were nothing special, but they suited her olive complexion and general warm demeanour.
"Also Scottish."
Gail raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"I have no idea. Could be." Holly grinned as she took them off and inspected them. "Nope. Made in China," she said before slipping them back onto her face.
"Well, I'm glad we cleared that up. The not knowing probably would have kept me up at night." This was a bizarre conversation. Holly was weird, and frankly, Gail kinda dug it. She was about to tell her she was weird when a man pushed past them in a huff.
Crap. She was holding up the line.
If it were any other day, Gail would have given the man a tongue lashing, but, alas, she thought better of it. Stupid Dov! "I seem to have lost you your place in line."
"S'okay," Holly shrugged. "It's not every day I almost get mowed down by someone with such a pretty…" She smirked, "Scarf."
"I see." Gail was very aware that her cheeks were turning the colour of the chillies in her burrito. "Well me and my scarf should probably go eat this before it gets cold." She held up her food.
A faint hint of a smirk crossed Holly's lips and she nodded. "You absolutely should. Enjoy your lunch, and the rest of your day."
Gail smiled and ducked around her, but only made it a few metres before coming to an abrupt halt. She couldn't in good conscience leave without saying her peace.
When she turned around, Holly was already looking in her direction. Well, the direction of her ass. "Uh, Holly?"
The woman looked up, too confused as to why Gail knew her name to be embarrassed that she'd been caught staring.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll get the Stinky Bean. I promise you won't regret it." Although her colleagues might beg to differ, Gail thought as she walked away. "Oh well." She shrugged. It's not like she'd ever see the woman again. "Welcome to Toronto, Holly," she chuckled to herself and then took a bite of her burrito.