Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Their faces were pressed into somewhat gross bar top at the Penny.

Andy McNally stood behind the bar, reading off the names from their drivers licenses. "Jenny Aronson. Christian Fuller. Rich Hanford. Vivian Peck. Lara Volk. You have the right to shut the hell up!"

The crowd laughed and her fellow rookies struggled. Not Vivian, though. Vivian had expected this. Everyone had warned her about the hazing ritual and she'd actually seen it a few times, coming to the Penny once as a child, and then a few times while in college and actually allowed to have a drink while it happened. Having it done to you was a little different. Having it done to you while your mother was shouting at her friend and training officer, Andy McNally, to search your pockets for keys was the cause for laughter.

Andy leaned over to ask the woman holding Viv down to check her pockets. A quick search later and they had her spare key from the clip on her back belt-loop. "Seriously?" Andy held the key up and the room laughed. "A universal key?"

"Told you," laughed Gail and Vivian heard Traci's familiar voice commenting that Gail had cheated her year. Vivian's key was actually a birthday present from her mother, earlier that year. "Its not cheating," Gail argued and she and Traci bickered good naturedly.

But they didn't really fight this time, not even in good faith, as Andy went on. "Okay, first person to get free gets drinks on the house. Ready. Set. Go!"

The crowd was loud and Vivian sighed. Everyone else was in a rush. She just walked over to her mother. "Give," she scowled.

"Nope, not doing it," grinned Gail, sipping her beer.

"Come on! I know you have a spare key!"

"And I know that the one they pulled from your belt wasn't the one I gave you," she countered.

"Seriously? Don't make me ask Steve." Beside Gail, Steve held his hands up and looked innocent. Viv glowered at him.

Mother and daughter stared at each other for a while and Gail finally sighed. "Fine." She reached for her belt and unclipped her own spare key from the buckle. With a cheerful grin, she clipped it to Vivian's. "Good luck."

Vivian stared down at her belt buckle. "You suck," she informed her mother, and promptly squirmed to get her hands in front.

They'd cuffed her with her palms facing each other, which made it easier to do that particular move. The lock was facing up, which was harder to unlock, but once she had her key in hand, Vivian used her teeth to turn it and tossed the cuffs in Noelle's lap.

"Winner, Vivian Peck!" Andy laughed as Noelle dangled the keys above her head.

She used her first free drinks to get a round for the other rookies, but then brought tequila over to sit with her mother. Gail was grinning. "That is now an unbroken chain of Pecks winning this one, Viv," she explained. "Even Elaine won."

"I still think you suck," growled Vivian, downing the tequila in one go while Gail did the same.

"Oh she's a Peck," laughed Traci. "Cheats and drinks tequila."

As one, Gail and Vivian shouted, "It's not cheating!"

The old guard lingered for a while more, mostly chatting it up with each other. Vivian sat with them for a while before joining some of the younger officers she'd known for a while. At ten, Gail caught up with Vivian again. "I'm headed out, kiddo. You good on your own?"

"Yeah, C said he'd drop me off." She gestured at the man with her beer. He was sitting over by their rookie class.

Gail nodded and glanced over at the other rookies. "I did not see that one coming," she sighed. "Thanks for keeping an eye out for him."

Vivian nodded. Before the academy, she'd met Christian at his father's funeral... Well. Not his father, but close enough. She always wondered why Christian hadn't taken Diaz as his surname. They'd remained in contact ever since, sharing pain that others wouldn't understand, not even Gail or Holly. Speaking of… "I wish Mom could've come."

"She'll be back tomorrow or the day after," sighed Gail. "But don't worry, I sent her the video of you uncuffing yourself."

"Awesome," Vivian laughed.

"Go hang out with your rookie class, kiddo. It'll come in handy later." They didn't hug. That still wasn't their thing except when really important. Gail tapped the beer bottle with her finger and headed out.

In an instant, Rich was at her side. "Who's that?"

"Who's what?"

"The hot Cougar you were hanging with? Rwaaaar. Both of them, actually!" He paused. "Mostly the brunette. The blonde looks like she'd kill me..."

Vivian stared at him. "Oh my god. Those are your senior officers. And they're old enough to be your mother!" One of them actually being hers. Ugh. She shoved him aside and looked for Christian. "Please God save me, C."

Smiling, Christian scooted over so Viv could sit down. "Do I want to know?"

"Rich wanted to know who the hotties were I was hanging with."

Christian looked gratifyingly horrified. "Seriously?" When she nodded, he gagged. "Rich, you're a moron. Don't call Inspector Peck a cougar."

Rich looked between Vivian, whom he knew was a Peck, and Gail, who was punching Nick in the arm before leaving. "Wait, you're related to her? Which one?"

She and Christian shared a look. He knew and he wasn't going to explain, clearly. "I'm related to both of them," sighed Vivian.

Now Christian explained, "They're both Pecks. Our Pecks. Traci Peck is the lead D for homicide and Gail Peck heads up the Major Case Squad."

As of late, Gail was also the point for all of Organized Crime for Fifteen, TwentySeven, and ThirtyFour, following a massive blowout led by Uncle Frank a couple years ago. Taking over the mess at TwentySeven had not been Gail's favorite thing. She didn't mind being the boss of all of OC in Fifteen, since that let her lord it over her brother, but the constant hassle of managing people took her away from the part of police work she loved. Traci was the Inspector of Homicide and was angling for a role with more teeth. Currently she oversaw any homicide in the three divisions, but if Steve ever made good on his threat to retire, Vivian was sure Traci would take over Guns and Gangs.

"Gail's the blonde," muttered Vivian. And yes, she would take him apart and laugh about it. But Vivian wasn't going to warn Rich. It would be more fun to watch.

Rich, the idiot, craned his neck to eye Traci, who was leaning at the bar. "And how are you related?"

"Well Rich, when two people love each other very much—" The guffaws at the table drowned her out and Vivian smiled. "There are two more in Fifteen. Steve, who heads up Guns and Gangs, and Ryan, who's quartermaster right now, but he'll go to Marine when I'm cut loose for the donut fine." As she sipped her beer, she was surprised to see most of her rookie class staring at her. "What?"

"That is the most you have ever talked about yourself, Peck," explained Jenny.

"I'm not very interesting." That was her shield. If she wasn't interesting then people didn't dig into her life and her past and she could just be.

"Donut fine?" Lara looked delighted at that news.

In her most deadpan, Vivian replied, "There has to be a Peck on patrol in all divisions at all times."

There was a brief pause before they all started laughing and telling Vivian she was hilarious.

This was actually the first time she'd actually hung out with her classmates. They didn't have a whole lot in common and Vivian was oft called a 'tough nut to crack.' Gail found it amusing when Vivian had told her, and pointed out she'd been the bitchy ice queen. The difference between them, of course, was Gail's mask of indifference was from a fear of failure, while Vivian… just kept to herself.

Since Olivia had moved to Montréal and Matty went to college in the States, it had gotten worse.

Holly would sometimes remind her that it was okay to be quiet, but it was also good to talk to people. Her therapist suggested that she was just out of practice at making friends, which made sense. Matty and Olivia, literally, had been the only friends she had made as a kid. Everyone else was someone one of those two had brought into the crowd. And with the exception of the one party she threw at the house while her Moms were at a conference/vacation, Viv was just pretty quiet and, god help her, boring.

But boring was good and safe. Boring was left alone. Boring meant her classmates didn't make a fuss when she was called on more often to know the right answers at the academy. Boring meant they just felt she was a weird nerd with brown hair and hazel-brown eyes and tan skin, who happened to share a last name with a crop of pale, pale, blue eyed blondes. Boring meant no questions.

As Christian drove her home at the end of the drinks, he mentioned the drawback to her plan. "You know, we have to trust these guys."

"Come on, C," she muttered, slouching in her seat.

"You should get to know them."

"I do know them. They're simple." She sighed. "Rich is a dude bro who thinks being a cop is cool, Lara's way too perceptive and will be our first D, Jenny thinks life will keep handing her things like it always has, you think you know the job because of Chris, I'm the ice princess who has to succeed."

The car fell silent.

Christian eyed her. "It shouldn't be weird that you just said a long sentence."

"Well. That's what you get."

"I think you'd have a better time, that's all. You're smart, you're a good person. Just open up."

Vivian looked out the side window of the car. Sure. Like that was easy. "Why are you nice, Christian? To me?" He was quiet as he pulled up to the sidewalk. No answer. "Right. Thanks for the ride, C." She got out of the car and shoved her hands in her pockets, heading up the stairs.

Suddenly the car door opened and Christian shouted, "You know and you don't treat me any different." She paused and turned. "Everyone who knows, back in Timmins, they all treat me like a freak. My dad's in jail for kidnapping me. My mom's crazy. And the guy I wish had been my dad is dead. And you treat me normal."

The sad fact was, in her world that was normal. But she knew everything about him. All he knew was she was adopted. And that was all she wanted him to know about her. "You treat me normal too, C," she pointed out and he grinned.

But it seemed to be the right answer.

Gail listened carefully for her daughter's return home. It was harder to be the only mom home today of all days, but Holly couldn't speed up the case and everyone knew that. It had been a case she worked with John's old Missing Persons unit, a kidnapper who took a young boy across the country. They found them only because of Holly's work on the case, which meant since it was being tried in Alberta, off she went for the trial in Calgary. Gail asked for a hat as a present.

And thus their daughter would begin her first day of work with only one, very nervous, mother in the house.

Really Gail wondered how the hell her parents had done it. Guilt and fear of normal growing up had nothing on this. As a child, Vivian had been self-contained and not adventurous, which didn't make it any less stressful to watch her go out and play sports or just hang out with her friends. She was always far too grown up and mature about her feelings, to the point of being ... Well in a lot of ways she was like Gail's father.

Not the asshole bigot part, but Bill was always cool and calm and collected. He didn't wear his heart on his sleeve like Gail and Steve often did. He was aloof, yes, but in a way that made you want to live up to it. And God, he was great at letting you know he was disappointed in you. Vivian had a similarly droll expression to let you know when you weren't fooling her. At seven, the look had been hilarious. At twenty-three years old, it was a little sad.

Her baby girl was twenty-three. Sometimes Gail wished they had gotten her as a baby, or had a baby, just to savor those early days a little more. More strongly, she was thankful for the grace of the girl in their life at all. She loved Vivian in a way that was terrifying and fulfilling, totally unlike Holly. It was like how she loved Steve, only more. Unconditional.

Her phone buzzed.

Go to bed.

Gail smiled at Holly's text and thumbed a reply.

Can't sleep. Kid goes to work in the morning.

You driving her?

Of course!

Her father drove her to work every day, that first year, and then for a long time after Perik. They didn't talk about things, but it was still one of the few really good memories she had of the man.

Holly texted back a smily face and a heart.

When do you get home?

Tomorrow. Pled out just an hour ago. I'll catch the evening flight.

A weight was lifted off Gail's shoulders. Good. They texted a little while longer, passing endearments before Holly admonished her again to get some sleep, and then Gail put the phone on the charger mat.

Before she could turn off the light, there was a soft knock at the door. "Mom?"

Ah. Gail smiled. "Come on in. I'm still up." Taking off her reading glasses, Gail put them to the side as Vivian opened the door.

"Were you scared?" The girl lingered in the doorway wearing cut off sweat shorts and an old t-shirt. She dressed far more like Holly most of the time. It was amusing to see what parts of her were Gail, what were Holly, and what were all the uniqueness of Vivian.

"Totally," smiled Gail. "Want to crash here?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. There was that droll look. "Mom, come on. You didn't."

"Yes, but as we've pointed out, my parents were assholes."

That Vivian had grown up with the nicer Elaine meant those comments always brought a little cognitive dissonance. But Vivian grinned. "Did you sneak into Steve's room?"

"He'd already moved out." But in fact, yes. Gail had snuck into her big brother's room across the hall and spent the night there. Her mother had found her in the morning but said nothing. "What's got you worried?"

Her daughter kicked the doorframe with her bare foot. "What if I screw up and embarrass everyone?"

Everyone meant everyone Peck probably. "No matter how bad you screw up, as long as you listen to your TO, you'll do fine." Vivian didn't look up. "Hey, you could tell me tomorrow morning that you can't do it, and I will still love you, Viv. I don't care what you do."

"I won't." The words come out in a rush. "I want this. This job. Ever since the thing with the Prince."

That had been what Holly suspected all along. Gail had her doubts, but she'd not been home when the change in their daughter began. "Really? That was it?" Gail smiled. "And here I thought it's because you had a crush on Sue."

Bingo. Vivian blushed. "Jesus, Mom, you're an asshole."

"Tell me something new," sassed Gail.

Vivian rolled her eyes again, smiling now. "I'm going to bed."

"Night, kiddo. First shift is at 8."

"I know, Mom," called Vivian as she closed the door.

Gail raised her voice so it would be heard through the door. "Love you!"

"Love you too, Mom!"

Switching off the light, Gail curled up and looked at Holly's pillow. "Love you, Holly. See you soon."

"You ready?" Gail pulled up the car in the garage, looking over curiously.

"I've been ready for ages, Inspector."

Her mother sighed. "I never realized how hard this was for my Dad. He used to drive me..." They got out of the car, Vivian ducking into the back to get her uniform. "You know I'm right upstairs."

"Mom, seriously." Vivian ran a hand over her uniform. 4727. A lower number, as Fifteen had rolled around their badges again. Her mother's 8727 was locked in her memory. She hadn't known Gail when she was a uniformed officer, but the badge she knew like the back of her hand. Her theory was they both ended in 727 on purpose, even though Gail swore it was coincidence. Peck was synonymous, she'd learned, with things just happening.

"I am serious. Not nepotism, Monkey, just... I'm here. Okay?"

Vivian looked up and blinked. "Yeah, okay. But... Look I haven't told anyone you're my Mom is all." Gail arched her eyebrows in surprise. "They already know about Pecks, just not how I fit in. I don't want them to get all weird." The academy had been weird enough with instructors being tough on her, and the other Pecks being ... Pecks.

They paused at the stairs and Gail smiled. It was that evil, evil smile. "This should be fun. Don't tell them about Holly either. I bet that dude-bro in your class buys her a drink."

"Oh, no doubt. Rich is a dick."

Gail smirked. "Go out there. Protect Toronto. Don't pull a McNally." And Gail headed up the back stairs, giving Vivian a clear, solo path to the locker room. What a great Mom.

As she pulled on her uniform, her phone beeped. It was the other woman she called Mom, texting from her business trip.

Good luck on your first day. I'll be home tonight. Don't screw up like Andy.

Vivian giggled and texted Holly back, telling her she loved her.

"Wow, Peck laughs." Lara Volk, the smart one, leaned over to peer at the phone. While Gail was listed as 'Best Mom of the Universe' in Viv's phone, Holly's read 'Dr. Mom.' They were both entries done by Gail. "Mom wishing you luck?"

"She's out of town," Vivian explained, turning the phone to mute and tucking it into her thigh pocket. "Get your tie on," she noted, clipping hers into place.

Lara yipped and scampered to her locker, snagging her tie. "I can't believe we get guns. Can you?"

"Hard to be a cop without one," smiled Vivian, settling her belt on. Gail had given her the run down on exactly how to wear the uniform the first week. Traci had shown her how to position her gun so her TO couldn't grab it. Oliver showed her how to grab it anyway. Andy and Nick told her they wouldn't be easy on her. Dov hadn't opened his mouth, probably because Gail threatened him to treat her daughter like everyone else, or she'd show them all photos of what he used to sleep in. Noelle just looked inscrutable and smiled.

Picking up her gun from the locker, she conscientiously checked and holstered it. "All set, Peck?"

She looked up at the speaker behind the quartermaster's counter and half smiled at her cousin Ryan. "Right and tight, Peck," she replied.

"Donut fine rests on you, kid. I'm going to the marine unit, once you're cut loose."

"You are welcome to be all wet."

"Least I'm not wet behind the ears. Don't screw it up, Peck."

That was the same song and dance everyone named Peck gave her. She sighed and eased into a seat for Parade, pulling out her pad to take notes. "Look at that, Peck. All eager," smiled Andy, sitting down across the aisle. It was still new to have Andy back on patrol, though it had been a half year. While never ascending the ranks, Andy had an incredible breadth of experience, having worked in more fields than anyone else at Fifteen. Vivian wondered if Andy was back as the lead TO because of her. Would Andy be her TO?

"McNally," she smiled. "I've been warned twice."

Andy blinked and then groaned. "You tackle one undercover cop..."

"I still think it meant you did your job right," mused Vivian, spinning her pen in her hand. The pen was a matte black space pen with a stylus. Holly's idea of a safe gift for her cop child. She'd put up with no end of weird cop training. Like how Noelle and Gail made sure Vivian could use a baton, which meant a lot of practice snapping it out in the backyard.

"Wish anyone else had," sighed Andy. "You'll be good today. Don't worry."

The others filed in, all the rookies lining up at Vivian's table. Dov was the last in, starched white shirt. He read the roll and then looked at the row of five greenhorns. "We have five new rooks today. You five have a long and proud tradition to live up to. Fifteen has a reputation, unbroken and untarnished, of excellence. Of service. Of sacrifice." Dov looked at Vivian and then Christian before continuing. "You were top of your class in the academy. We don't care anymore. You may be a legacy, you think you know this job inside and out. We don't care. Maybe you think because you're street smart, or that because you can shoot a paper target that you're ready. You're not. None of that matters to today. There is absolutely no training that prepares you for life on the street. And on that cautionary note, welcome to 15. Serve, protect, and don't screw up. Assignments are on the board."

The knock at the door surprised her. Gail had taken over an office in the last few years, something Butler never had. Her argument was that since she was in charge of so much more, she needed the space. Not that anyone had cared. But she rarely closed the door. Most people didn't knock either, they just started talking as they walked in. Dov was knocking today.

"Well?" She looked at her former roommate with a sneer.

"Nick," said Dov, and he sat on her couch.

So. It was Nick. Gail leaned back and nodded. "Nick's good. We need another Oliver, though."

"She doesn't need one."

"Still."

"If I had one," he sighed. "They don't make them like that anymore. When Oliver retired, shit I was never more scared in my life. Not even holding my son for the first time."

Of course, they did have another Oliver once, but they lost him years ago. Gail changed the subject a little. "And Christian?"

"Desk this week. Viv's one of the only ones I'm comfortable sending out right away. She knows the job."

Gail snorted. "She thinks she does." Vivian was twenty-three, immortal, the daughter of a police officer, who grew up with cops all her life.

"Jon Snow," drawled Dov. "You know nothing."

"Dork King," sassed Gail, but she smiled. "Who else did you send out?"

Dov leaned back. "Lara Volk. She was second in their class."

The name Gail knew. She'd kept tabs on Vivian's class and picked Volk out as the first one who'd try for the Ds. Volk had the most useful intellect of the lot. Not a huge amount of school, but enough life experiences. Vivian was actually third in her class, over all. First had gone to another Peck, over at TwentySeven by his own request. "She's good. With McNally?"

"Nah, Moore."

Jesus. "Gerald. You gave Gerald more rookies?"

"Hey! He grew up!"

Gail grimaced. "Why not McNally?"

"She gets Rich, who I have heard thinks you and Traci are total Cougars."

With that thought, yes, Andy would do well with him. She could handle the dude-bro better than Gerald. "I guess," grumbled Gail. "This is terrifying, by the way."

"No kidding," sighed Dov. "Chris is fifteen, Gail. How the hell do you deal with fifteen year olds?"

At fifteen, Vivian had been pretty easy to deal with. "My kid's awesome, Dov. At sixteen she took on homophobic bullies, remember?"

Dov grimaced. His relationship with his family was wildly, weirdly, different than Gail's was. Gail did it in the normal order. Meet someone, date, move in, marry, have a kid. Dov and Chloe had a strange state where they'd had a kid years before they finally got married. Little Chris was seven, and objecting to being called Little Chris, when they'd had the ceremony.

But where Vivian was incredibly close and honest with her parents, Chris was a little more distant. He was a normal teenager, basically. He'd even been busted for possession. That flipped Dov out, and he shouted that he'd lost a brother to drugs and he wasn't loosing a son. It did scare Chris straight at least, but they'd had to bring in Oliver to calm everyone down.

"That's why she's on the streets, you know. She's good people, Gail." Dov paused. "Holly's influence, right?"

"Totally," smiled Gail.

"When's good influence getting home?"

"Tonight. She's on the noon flight so she'll be home by five."

"Nice. Taking tomorrow off?"

Gail shook her head. "Nope. Peck Force One flies again, now with 100% less homophobes and bigots."

It was Dov who coined that phrase. He looked apologetic, which was only fair given how everything played out with Bill. And then he grinned. "Maybe she'll pull a McNally and I'll have to bench her tomorrow."

"Really," snorted Gail. "Two things, for your little hamster brain, Epstein. First, my kid will never pull a McNally. Second, do you really think I want her home all day with me and Holly?"

Dov smirked. "I thought I wasn't supposed to think about you and Holly."

With a scowl that belied her actual feelings of amusement, Gail pointed at the door. "Out! Some of us have real work!"

And Dov did leave, but he laughed the whole way.

"So there's a talk," explained Nick, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Okay." Vivian buckled herself in and eyed her TO.

That it was someone she knew was a given. That it was someone her mother used to date was weird, but sort of expected. There were only a few options for TO anyway. While Olivia had joked that her mom would be Viv's TO, Noelle was edging up on retirement and didn't have any rookies anymore. In fact, only weeks after Olivia had joked about it, Noelle became Inspector. Everyone reported to Noelle. Even Gail, who had no problems with Noelle getting bumped over her like that and had pointed out it had been weird to technically outrank Noelle anyway. The fact that Noelle and Frank were still working at all was weird though.

The other good options for a TO who wouldn't have issues with Vivian and her name were Andy, Gerald, or one of the new group. With that in mind, Nick made perfect sense. Gail might have shot Gerald and god knew what she'd do to Andy. Actually, Vivian might have shot Gerald.

Nick cleared his throat. "So. I'm Nick, Nick Collins."

Nope. She couldn't do it. Vivian smothered a laugh. "Nick, come on," she laughed. She'd known him for 18 years. When he fell asleep on the back deck at the cottage, Gail had used an air horn to wake him up. He was family. And he scowled. It took a moment, but Vivian pressed her lips together. "Sorry."

When she was silent long enough, he went on. "I'm your training officer until further notice. You don't touch anything in the car until I tell you to. You don't write anything down in your memo book until I tell you to. You don't talk to other people, you look at me first. You do as I "say" not as I "do"."

Vivian nodded. She'd heard this one before. Her mother had given it to a new detective under her wing once, and it never failed to make her have the giggles. Gerald once said Gail had given it to him. "Yes, sir."

Nick sighed, eyeing Vivian like she was a lost cause. "Look, you probably think right now I'm being a bit of a hard ass. If things gets stressed out there… If I get stressed… Peck, my job is to keep you safe. This crest on my shoulder, this represents you, Peck, and we're both going home today. Okay?"

Her mother never did that half of the talk and Vivian blinked. She was sure that she'd heard it before, though. Gail had promised her that the crest on her badge meant she was always going to come home to her. It didn't sound like Gail or Nick, though. "Oh. That's Oliver," she said aloud, not really meaning to.

"Yeah," sighed Nick. "He didn't give it to me my first day—"

"And you jumped off a bridge," finished Vivian. "Andy told me last week."

Rolling his eyes, Nick started the car. "I don't know why I thought you'd be different than Gail," he grumbled.

Vivian cheerfully stretched her legs out. "Me neither."

They drove in silence for a while. "You know I'm going to make sure you're the best cop you can be, right?"

"I do." And she did.

"Okay. So I can't be Uncle Nick anymore."

When Gail entered the academy, she said she stopped calling Al Santana 'Uncle Al.' "I know, Nick." She hesitated. "Should I call you Collins?"

"When we're out there, yes. You call me Officer Collins. In here and at the station you can call me Nick. I call you Peck, though."

"Yeah, okay, that's weird."

He laughed. "Regretting ditching the Green? Or not taking Stewart?"

She flipped him off, which only made him laugh more. But it did make her start thinking more about her birth parents than normal. Frankly, she never thought about them much at all, but it had kind of been that sort of weird recently. The last few weeks as they'd wrapped things up at the academy had become unsettling.

It had started with her fellow rookies, Rich and Lara, chatting about how Vivian was treated differently. She got chastised more than they did, as if all the instructors expected more from her. Which they probably did. Conversely, she had also gotten away with a hell of a lot more, being the first to get to drive on the course and take lead in training exercises. She suddenly understood why Gail had some weird damage from growing up Peck. Vivian could not fail. It wasn't an option. You fail as a Peck, you fail for everyone to see.

Vivian now understood why her grandmother had been so set against Vivian changing her name. The wall in front of her was insanely high, and she'd put it there herself. Worse, she was seen as a brown-noser by her cousins for having taken the name in the first place.

And it wasn't that she wasn't friends with her classmates. They just didn't have a lot in common besides the job. Rich was stuck up and arrogant, Lara was way too perceptive, Jenny was a princess, and Christian... Well. They were in the dead parents club. And Vivian was private.

"You know why you got to go out your first day?"

"No, sir." She knew Gail had been stuck on desk with Dov the first week.

"Dov said you were the least likely to pull a McNally."

Vivian snorted. "And that's three. Moms said the same thing today." No one was telling her not to pull a Collins though. Interesting. Of course she knew that story too. Oliver told her about all the rookies, even her mother.

Nick smirked. "When's Holly getting back anyway?"

"Tonight or tomorrow. Whenever the trial's over." Vivian watched the streets roll by carefully. She paid attention to where they were. Gail liked to play a game of naming the next cross street. Elaine called it the 'quick, your partner was shot!' game. Holly thought they were both idiots.

The radio squawked, announcing shots fired at 1504. Shots fired. Lara Volk was with (God help her) Duncan Moore in 1504. "Fastest way to the address?" Nick was calm. How could he be calm? Her heart was pounding in her chest. Suddenly it was real.

"Uh, construction on Dunn, take a right at the second street, up four, a left, end of the lane we can cut up the alley."

"Call it in," nodded Nick.

She fumbled the radio, nearly getting the wrong button. "1519 responding. 5 out."

"1519, Dispatch, received."

After a moment, Nick cleared his throat. "Siren."

"Right!" She flicked it on and looked sheepish. Every single thought about what she was supposed to do felt jumbled in her head.

"You stay by me, Peck," he said gently. Calmly.

She nodded so hard it hurt. "Yes. Yes, sir."

Had it been this terrifying for Gail? The story of Snakeface spun to the front of Vivian's brain. Even the amazing Gail Peck had fucked up as a rook. She took a deep breath. She could do this.

In retrospect, no one was ever really ready. And she understood why it was so easy for Andy to have done what she did. It was everything like class and, at the same time, nothing at all like what she'd practiced. There was a druggie yelling at Nick and Vivian's brain knew, it knew, she was supposed to step in and do something. No, this was right. She was the backup. Look serious. The guy was yelling about how he didn't even have a gun and then another guy, with a gun, burst out of the alley.

While her brain struggled to process everything, her body was in motion. As the yelling druggie grabbed the backpack at his feet and made a run for it, Nick yelled… Nick yelled something. Her brain was fuzzy but her body remembered everything. Holster the gun, sprint after the druggie holding the backpack. Nick's got the guy with the gun. The alley cut through an apartment parking lot. The street mapped itself in her head. Vivian cut across, sliding over the hood of a parked car, only to have him cut back.

God no wonder Gail always bitched about chasing criminals! They were unpredictable! No... No, Gail said they were totally predictable. What would Gail do? If the guy was headed back, he forgot something. But he wouldn't just rush the crime scene. No, he'd go around the side and try to get in the building.

"4727, in pursuit of, uh, perp. He's playing alley maze." Vivian took off at a sprint, not waiting for a reply from dispatch, praying she was right. The alleyway merged and she took the fence at full speed, swinging over it easily. Fine! That stupid obstacle course made sense. It was easier for her than most because of her hobby was running around on the weekends with ETF, and they liked American Ninja Warrior.

Landing easily, Vivian skidded as she rounded the corner and drew her gun, bringing it up to bear on the druggie as he came around the opposite side. "Freeze!"

He did.

Holy crap. It worked!

"Put the bag down."

"You don't understand," he whined. "They want me dead."

"We can protect you," she bluffed. She had no idea if that was the case. "Put the bag down."

He hesitated. He was going to run. Vivian knew it. Had she remembered to switch her radio on? Could she call for backup? Had she pulled a Gerald?! Panic started to swim in her head.

"The officer said put the gun down." The voice was calm and strong and familiar. How was Andy so calm? It washed over her like one of Gail's cocoas on a winter day, warming the edges of her soul. For a moment, she felt safe, something she thought she'd never feel around McNally, who was still the butt of many jokes.

They both stood there, guns trained on the man, until the bag went down. "Please, I need protection! Asylum!"

"We're not a church," grumbled Andy, stepping up and pushing the bag away with her foot. "Cuff him."

Vivian's eyes went wide. Andy was giving her the collar? "Uh, yes, yes, ma'am." She holstered her gun and pulled out her cuffs, quickly securing the perp and reading him his rights.

That shut him up good, and Vivian glanced over at Andy, who was chatting on the radio. She unzipped the bag and blinked. "Well hell, Peck. You've got your grandmother's luck. This is a guns and gangs special."

She wanted to look over, but kept a firm hold on her perp. Cuffed or not, she'd heard the stories. "Ma'am?"

Andy smirked and held up the bag. "On your first day you just chased down a lieutenant in one of the major crack dealing gangs in the city."

The perp in her hand blustered. "First day?"

"Yeah. You got busted by a rook," sang Andy.

The two police officers in her life were talking about nothing but the case Vivian had accidentally burst open. Steve, who was in charge of Guns and Gangs now, had been looking for a way to tie in the gang to the drugs, and Vivian all but handed it to him on a silver platter.

Gail was delighted, proud, and told Vivian that repeatedly. Vivian kept looking embarrassed and quiet.

Finally, Holly cut into the conversation. "You know, when I asked what I missed, I was expected a little more about how much you missed me, Pecks."

Her wife looked abashed and put down the spatula. "I missed you terribly," she said quietly. The blue eyes were dark and apologetic.

"I barely even got a kiss hello."

"Hmm, I'm failing there. Viv, would you...?" Gail waved a hand a the food.

"You guys are so gross," teased Vivian, taking the spatula up and stirring the meat. "Did you even make the guac yet?"

"Hush." Gail wrapped her hands on Holly's waist, leaning in to kiss her properly. "Missed you," she whispered.

Holly smiled. "Better." They kissed again. "She's feeling shy, lay off," Holly whispered in Gail's ear before kissing her jawline. Gail made a noise of agreement and sighed happily. The hands moved, hauling Holly into a good, proper, hug. Those hugs felt so good.

Vivian cleared her throat. "Can you tell us about your case, Mom?"

Letting go of her with a kiss, Gail took over the cooking duties, mixing up the guacamole. "Not much," admitted Holly, watching Gail. She loved watching Gail cook, when the constant nagging in her head faded away and she was just a person. The look on Gail's face was serene and more beautiful than anything else. Holly knew how to get that face in other ways, that relaxation, but this too was good. "I can tell you he pled out in the face of my awesome science."

Both cops laughed at that. "She's not kidding, Viv," chortled Gail. "Nerds win more cases now, thanks to TV."

"We are awesome," smiled Holly, leaning on the counter. "How come you're not celebrating at the Penny tonight?"

"Friday," shrugged Vivian. "I think some of the rooks are there tonight though."

"And you are not because..."

Vivian looked surprised. "Well. You're home." She tossed the vegetables onto the pan. "And when have I ever been the party girl?"

With a dramatic sigh, Gail hung her head. "I've raised a woman who believes in moderation." Gail sounded mournful, but Holly laughed.

"And tequila," giggled Vivian.

"Shaddup," snapped Gail, smirking. "Get me a beer, child."

"I'm working the meat here!" There was a pause and all three women cackled. "Mom, one for me too?"

Holly sighed and got three bottles. "You both suck."

They ate the fajitas on the deck, talking about normal things. Vivian brought up some of the news about a possible Ebola cure. Holly had read about it on the plane and gave her some medical tidbits. They then talked about the sports games they liked. While Gail had never seemed to mind it, Holly always worried when they talked about things they enjoyed that excluded her.

She'd long since given up trying to understand what mom roles they each fell into. Vivian called her, as a child, when she'd had a panic attack sleeping over at Olivia's. But then at eleven, when a camp out had proven too painful, it was Gail who got the call and drove hours to pick her up. Holly was the first to be told about the crush on Olivia, Gail was the shoulder when they broke up, and weirdly Elaine was the confidant about how Vivian worried about how that would affect things with Noelle and Frank when she became a cop.

The conversation turned a little, without her noticing, and now Gail was asking about the girl Vivian had been sort of seeing at the Police Academy. "Oh my god, Mom, shut up," scowled Vivian, looking away.

Gail was smiling. "So that would be a no, not serious?"

Vivian screwed her face up into a look of Gail's that, for a long time, Holly hated. It was the look of disdain Gail had thrown at her at the Penny years ago. "Mom, seriously? No, we weren't serious. She wasn't. She was nice, but... Y'know, no. Not gonna be a thing."

Glancing at Holly, Gail reached over and took her hand. "Well, even if you have adventures like Dr. Slutty BitchTits, we'll love you. Just be safe."

Another eye roll from the daughter. "You do realize that Lisa has been exclusively seeing Kate for, like, ever, right? I mean not everyone gets to be married almost twenty years."

Both Gail and Holly stared in silence. "Shit," muttered Gail.

"Seriously, you forgot?" Holly smirked.

"No, it's just... We're old, Holly!"

The look of horror on Gail's face was hilarious and Holly laughed until she was crying, "You're going to be fifty, Gail!"

Gail looked positively stricken. "No no no! No I'm not!" Covering her face with her hands, Gail faux-wailed as Vivian and Holly laughed.

"Come here, you idiot," smiled Holly, moving the hands away and cupping Gail's face in her own. "I love you, fifty and god knows what color your hair really is." She leaned in and kissed Gail slowly. God, Gail kissed so wonderfully. Her lips were soft and tender, curved into a shy smile as they kissed.

The click of a camera phone stopped them. "This is why I'm still in therapy," muttered Vivian, smirking.

"You're the one who took a photo," Gail sassed, scooted her chair around, and draped an arm over Holly's shoulders. "Wanna clean up the dishes so your old mams can make out?"

Vivian pointed at Holly. "Technically that's her chore, since we cooked."

With a laugh, Holly kissed Gail's cheek. "I will load the dishwasher," she smiled.

Of course, everyone brought in their own dishes, which made clean up incredibly fast and easy. Gail tidied up the mess of a living room and Vivian took care of the deck. Everyone cooked, everyone cleaned, and it just worked out. It had been Vivian's chore, as a child, to set the table, though since she liked to cook with Gail, that hadn't lasted long.

Vivian just liked doing whatever the grownups had been doing. Play sports with Holly, play video games with Gail, math and science with Holly, cooking with Gail, running with Holly, shooting with Gail... She was their kid.

"What's going on in that noggin, Stewart?" Gail's breath was a soft puff from behind her ear.

"We raised a pretty awesome kid, Peck," replied Holly. She leaned back and smiled as Gail wound her arms around Holly's waist. "I'm sorry I missed her first day."

"She understands." Gail kissed Holly's shoulder. "I understand." Another kiss. "Did you bring us presents?"

Holly laughed and playfully shoved Gail away. "Really? Is that all I'm good for? Science and presents?"

"And sex," teased Gail.

"God, Moms." Vivian stuck her tongue out. But the kid was smiling. "Go to your room."

Holly was about to say it was early when she caught Gail's look. "I did bring a present," she noted. "I got you a Flames shirt, Viv."

Her daughter the hockey fan grinned. "Cool. Did you get Mom a cowboy hat?"

"Do you see a cowboy hat?"

Gail smirked and headed to the stairs. "You were home when we got back. Come on, shower. We can watch something on the tube if you want."

By the time Holly was done with her shower, though, she lay across the bed in her robe and groaned. "I'm too old," she muttered.

Her wife kissed her forehead. "Hey, if I'm about to be fifty, you're looking up at sixty," she teased.

"Not funny, Gail." But the blonde went to the bathroom for her own shower. Holly shook her head and smiled. From the sound of it, Gail was shaving and washing her hair, so Holly got up and pulled out the presents from the closet. Vivian's shirt and a pair of fuzzy slippers went by the door. Gail, though... Well it was no secret her wife had wanted the hat. Of course she got it.

Putting the hat on her own head and shedding the robe, Holly stretched out on the bed in her birthday suit.

It was good timing. The water went off. Gail was singing softly, a romantic ditty from some new musician about love and stars and laughter, and drying her hair. "Hey, are you throwing me a big party? Because I'm okay with just something small."

"You hate parties, Gail."

"I hate people making a fuss."

"I know. It's right up on our twentieth, and you know we have to do that big."

Gail made a noise. "Mine will make Mom feel old."

Frankly it made Holly feel old. "I'll talk to her. Any requests?"

"A nice hotel," laughed Gail and then she went silent.

Holly glanced over and saw her wife standing in the doorway to the bathroom, blinking. "Like the hat?" She grinned and pushed the brim up with one finger.

Nodding, Gail took the towel off her shoulders and tried to hang it up on the hook. She missed twice. Then she swore, tore her eyes away, and carefully hung up her towel. "So you're not tired?"

"Not that tired, no," smiled Holly, patting the bed beside her.

Gail smiled and climbed up to the bed. "Keep the hat on," she grinned, kissing Holly.

The hat stayed on for a while, about as long as Holly's glasses normally stayed on, but it did eventually get in the way. When the hat got tossed to the side, Gail didn't complain, though that probably had to do with what Holly was doing with her tongue at the time.

Afterwards, Holly hung the hat up after she dug out a shirt to wear. Gail watched, sleepily, smiling. Holly smiled back and asked, "Are you really going to work tomorrow?"

"Mm. Yeah, I've got to follow up on the guy Viv arrested. Might be a big break for Steve's group."

Holly snuggled up against Gail, breathing her scent in. "That sucks."

With a snort and a laugh, Gail reached over and turned her light off. "Can't be helped. Crime waits for no one." They settled into the easy relaxation of being in bed together. "I hate this bed when you're not in it."

"I hate hotels when you're not in them with me," murmured Holly. Her body grew heavy quickly.

It was good to be home.

The bad thing about being a rookie, Vivian realized, was that she couldn't keep working the case she'd broken open. She'd complained to Matty about that on the phone, and he reminded her that she actually had it better off than her fellow rookies. Because unlike them, Vivian was a Peck and was therefore in the Peck Fold. She had access to resources. When she and Nick got back from patrol, Vivian went up to the second floor to find Uncle Steve. It was easy. He was at the coffee maker.

"Hey, who let the rookie up here?" Steve, balding and greying, was grinning ear to ear.

"They have these things called stairs, Inspector Peck." She smiled back.

"Oh do they, Constable Peck?" But he waved her in. "Your mom make it home okay?"

Vivian nodded. "She did. Got me a Flames shirt and some fuzzy slippers."

"We'll be over for Sunday dinner." The Peck dinners had moved to her house at some point in her teen years. Probably because Gail was the better cook. "Out of curiosity, why's Gail wearing a cowboy hat today?"

"Because she's a pervert," sighed Vivian.

Steve, to his credit, looked thoughtful. "Ew." They both laughed. "Come on, let me show you the headache you left me."

She grinned and walked to Steve's office at the end of the hall. They didn't hug or otherwise show any indication they were more than a random pair of people with the same last name. Everyone upstairs knew, though. Most of the detectives knew her from her childhood, and certainly from when she was eighteen and up.

That had been when Gail had conceded to Vivian's pleading and let her hang out upstairs when she came by the station. Prior, she'd only been allowed downstairs in Oliver or Dov's offices. Once she was in the Police Academy, though, she'd not come by as often. Most of her time was spent in school or driving to and from Alymer. Four hours each way, every weekend, in a crappy car had not been fun, but of all the horrible things to find out in her adult life, she still did not sleep well outside the home.

Gail had theorized that if Vivian thought of her place as 'home' or 'her space' she would be fine. So far that seemed to work. Camping in her own tent was fine. Her own, single, dorm was fine. Getting that single dorm had been a trick that Vivian suspected was Pecked out for her. Gail argued it was cause by the declining applications to the force.

The last week of the course, Holly and Gail had both come to stay in town since they were each teaching a class. That had helped, and Vivian had gotten permission to stay with family. It was a strange thing, she knew, and a weird exception to the norm. But somehow, no one on the force really knew about it, and she was planning to keep it that way. Gail had pointed out that undercover work might be tricky, though not everyone did that sort of thing. And it wasn't that she didn't try to overcome her fears, she just... Woke up worried. Or worse, panicking. Stupid irrational fears.

Her uncle knew, though.

"You like it," she teased him, looking at the board he'd set up for the case. "Three Rivers is a really stupid name for a-" She stopped abruptly and stared. "Wait, no way!"

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, the sons of bitches who stabbed me."

"I thought you and Mom took 'em down!"

"We did, but there's down and there's down. Most gangs come and go. Especially old ones like this." Steve pulled up a file on his computer and showed it to her. The history of this gang was pretty impressive. "They switched to medical grade drugs for a while, then killing, then we broke them, and they've been rebuilding since. Now it's back to drugs."

Steve lectured Vivian on the gang for the majority of her break, ending only when he got a call from a CI. She took the information back downstairs, thinking about the layers of the case.

"Peck, I was looking for you. We roll in ten," said Nick as he bumped into her in the hallway.

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

Nick eyed her. "You up on three?"

"Nah, talking to the Ds on two. Apparently we busted Three Rivers."

The older officer looked confused. "Why do I know that name?"

Vivian grinned. "Well it was most of my life ago."

That clued him in. "No shit... Well. Don't get a swelled head thinking we'll get to work on that, Peck. We get to patrol. Day in and out."

She knew that. Better than most rookies, probably, she understood that the most junior members of Fifteen didn't get the fun stuff. She didn't get to follow a cool case that her mother and uncle were working on, just because it was them. She didn't even get to tell her classmates because they had no idea who she was. And she wasn't anyone special.

When she met Nick by their cruiser, 1507 today, she asked, "Can I drive?"

"Hah, not gonna happen."

She didn't think so, but it was worth asking. "You know I beat out her top score as a rook," noted Vivian as she buckled in. "On the course."

"Who? Gail's?" When Vivian nodded, Nick looked impressed. "Still not driving."

"Your loss."

"You are so like your mother," he chortled. "Hey, why don't your rookie friends know that?"

Vivian hesitated. She knew exactly what Nick meant. "It's stupid."

"Try me."

She sighed and looked out the window. "I don't want them thinking I got here because I'm her kid." There was a weird smirk on Nick's face. "What?" She snarled at him in her best Gail.

"You should tell her that. She'd get a kick out of it."

Vivian snorted. "She knows. Anyway, she wants to see which one hits on Holly first."

Nick thought about it for all of a second. "Rich."

"No bet," smiled Vivian.

"Is any of that related to why Gail was wearing a cowboy hat today?"

Oh Jesus. That hat. "Mom— Holly got home last night. Apparently that's her present." Vivian really didn't want to know the specifics of what else the hat involved, but Gail was certainly in a good mood. She could do without details of her parents' sex life and was just thankful the house had good soundproofing.

Her TO had the grace to look embarrassed. "Man." He shook his head.

Did Nick know Vivian knew he had been engaged to Gail? Vivian hadn't found out until she was a teenager, though it didn't really seem to matter much. It did explain why Gail was generally more herself around Nick, though. He was pretty much family.

They drove through the city, Nick quizzing her like all the rookies complained about, until the radio sent them to the edge of Fifteen, right by TwentySeven, for a robbery related to their Three Rivers case. Vivian perked up.

"Down girl," muttered Nick, turning the car towards the destination. "It's just going to be standing around."

"Steve said they working on medical grade pharmaceuticals now."

Nick snorted. "That's Detective Inspector Peck to you, Peck."

Rolling her eyes, Vivian pointed out the obvious. "We have five Pecks at fifteen, Collins. I gotta differentiate them somehow, and I don't think I can get away calling Uncle Steve 'Keystone Peck' at work."

At least Nick smirked. "God, I'm too old for this, kid," he laughed.

He was two years younger than Gail, as Vivian recalled. Gail had been the oldest in her class by a couple years, just like Vivian was, because Pecks went to school and got degrees before joining the force. Unlike Gail, who'd majored in criminal justice, Vivian had gone for an engineering bend with a minor in criminal studies. She had always liked seeing how things ticked.

As they pulled up, Nick swore when he saw the truck. Vivian blinked at it, confused, but a moment later figured out why Nick was so annoyed. "Swarek," Nick said to the swarthy man.

"Collins... Peck." He did a double take, looking at Vivian for a long moment. "No shit?"

Vivian nodded, griping her belt carefully. "Sir," she said respectfully. She never liked Sam. He had always rubbed her the wrong way, especially as a kid. Something was odd about him. But it was worse for Nick because of his long term ... whatever the hell he and Andy were. Girlfriend. But it was Sam whom Andy had actually married at one point. Vivian hadn't been around for the marriage, but she remembered the divorce involved cheating. Or something.

Sam Swarek had not aged well. On his best days, in his younger days, he looked like a leathery basset hound. Now, over a decade later, he was haggard and paunchy and his skin looked saggy. He looked older than Oliver, who was actually quite a bit older than Sam. What the hell had Andy seen in him? Of course Swarek was still with Marlo, though, and they had a daughter. So he wasn't a total asshole.

"You sure that's your Peck's kid?" Sam jerked his thumb at Vivian while looking at Nick.

"Oh yeah," sighed Nick. "So what've we got?"

Apparently Sam knew better than to banter with the man dating his ex-wife or the daughter of Gail Peck, and frankly Vivian wasn't sure which made him wiser. "Not much special, but Guns and Gangs has a request to keep an eye out for these guys." He gestured for the two to follow. "So guess who owns the bar?"

Vivian looked up at the name of the place. The Fork. "Seriously? Just when I thought they couldn't get dumber than calling themselves Three Rivers."

Sam snorted. "There's the Peck," he laughed. "Watch the door, rookie. Collins, c'mere."

Of course. Vivian knew she had to pay her dues and didn't argue as she took a guard outside the door. Another rookie was already there, looking a hell of a lot more nervous than she was. She recognized him from their class. "Hey, Garcia."

"Hey, Peck. You know Swarek?"

"Afraid so. Who'd you draw?"

"Trevor. He's okay. You?"

"Collins."

Garcia craned his head and looked inside. "Man, I wanna get in and see. This is a total gang hangout."

"See what? It's just another bar." When Garcia sighed, she asked, "Has forensics been by?"

"Not yet. Swarek called 'em when he got here." Garcia eyed her. "You got here fast."

She smiled. What she wanted to do was brag she'd gotten on of the gang members the day before. Instead, she just shrugged. "Collins is good."

With a grunt, Garcia looked around. "He looks old."

"He's 46."

"See? That's more than double my age."

It was double Vivian's, certainly. "Best TOs are the ones who've been on the street forever." But there was a point. Sam was in his fifties. So was Holly. There was a time when they'd be gone, and it was coming soon. It was coming fast. Well. Out with the old, as Gail might say.

The forensic geeks rolled up and Vivian grinned at them. "Hey! It's the little Peck," beamed LaFaire, one of Holly's favorite techs.

"Hey, LaFaire. Up for some work?"

"You bet. Your mom home yet?"

"Yesterday. You'll see her tomorrow." Vivian turned and stuck her head inside. "Detective? Forensics is here."

It was Nick who replied. "Bring 'em in, Peck. Trevor, take over watch?"

A second voice, presumably Trevor, grumbled. "Just because it's your case..." But the man gave Vivian a polite nod as he came out.

The bar was dark and smelly. "Jesus, do they ever clean?"

"I think this is clean," muttered LaFaire. He set up and started directing people to take photos and collect evidence, one going over to the man seated in front of Nick and Sam.

The bartender, Vivian presumed, was a weedy, pale, skittish man. His skin had the pallor Vivian associated with constant drug use. When he talked, his teeth looked horrific. Meth. She looked around carefully. Garcia and Trevor would have cleared the place before Sam went in, certainly before forensics was let in.

Well. That's how Fifteen did it. Vivian had heard Gail tell that TwentySeven had, historically, been trouble. Holly had said the same. Uncle Frank had investigated them and that was why Gail was supervising them from OC.

With a nod at Nick, Vivian made a hand sign to indicate she was going to walk around the room. Her TO flashed back an okay sign. Nick had taught her his hand signals one summer when he and Andy had come up to the cottage for Holly's birthday. Hand signs, like ASL and Canadian ASL, were easy for Vivian. A hell of a lot easier than French. But just fuck LSQ.

She quietly made her way around the room, listening to the continuing discussion with the bartender. His story was simple. He was setting up, leaving the door unlocked because he was expecting a new beer sampler from a local home brew. The door opened and he was robbed by a guy in a ski mask. He hadn't even called the cops, Garcia and Trevor just happened to be nearby. They'd lost the thief, but there was an APB out on the car.

Vivian leaned over the bar. His story made some sense, except for the part about someone robbing a bar in the daylight. Who the hell did that? She looked up. No cameras. The till was untouched.

Three Rivers ran drugs. Where would Gail look? Where would Steve or Elaine look? Where would Traci look? She'd grown up with their stories about how they just knew where to look. But that wasn't it at all. They knew how to read a scene. They knew how to see what was wrong because it was different.

Okay then, Rookie Peck. What looked different? What was she looking at? What would Gail ask her about at dinner?

The blood and damage in the bar was isolated. The tables that were overturned were only a few. Three. So someone came in the front... She looked down and saw forensics marking the tracks. "LaFaire, did someone stand there?" Vivian pointed at where a tech was positioned.

"Yeah, so check this out." And he walked her through the fight. It matched (mostly) what Vivian had assumed. Guy came in, guy talked for a while (handprints on a table), guy walked up to the pool table and took a cue to beat on their bartender.

"He went all the way across the room to get a pool stick?" Vivian frowned.

"Go check it out," said Nick. "No touching."

She probably knew forensics and medical jurisprudence better than he did, but Vivian just smiled. "Yes, sir." Vivian heard Sam tell the bartender to calm down, that she was a rookie but she wouldn't screw anything up. So she was being used to spook him, to drive out the truth. Alright then. Vivian walked around the table and kept an eye on the bartender. He got more tense when she neared one table.

What was so special about it? "LaFaire," said Sam absently. "Go check that table, will ya?"

The tech didn't look a whit confused and came over with his ALS to check for trace. "Hey, Peck. Ever done a real field test?"

She brightened. "No, sir." A look at Nick gave her a nod and Vivian cheerfully followed LaFaire's directions to take a sample and use the test strip.

"Well how'd'ya like that," grinned Sam. "We got drugs."

Watching her daughter put her uniform in the car, Gail smiled. "So. Week one and you had two drug busts."

"One bust, two locations." Vivian grinned, pushing her bangs out of her face. She should cut her hair again, thought Gail. Short. It was so thick though, unlike Gail's, that short needed constant maintenance.

"Steve's happy."

Vivian nodded. "Looks like Three Rivers is back with drugs, so that's something for him and Chloe to work on."

Her staff was working a bit overtime to sort it out, but Gail didn't mind. "Could be worse," she mused. "Nick said you're doing good."

Her daughter gave her the best droll look Vivian knew, which was pretty impressive. "It's creepy you're checking up on me."

"I am not," laughed Gail. "My friend, Nicholas, happens to be your TO. I didn't have a thing to do with it, kiddo." Vivian looked skeptical. "Promise, I didn't even get you to Fifteen. That was all you."

Vivian smiled shyly. "I like it here."

"Yeah? You sure you don't want to change your mind and go back to engineering?" For the life of her, Gail couldn't fathom why Viv had taken that major. Holly had floated the faint hope that it meant Vivian was changing her mind about her future.

The rookie shook her head. "You said you'd back me up on this, no matter what."

"I did," smiled Gail. "How're you getting home?"

"I'll get a ride from C."

"Sure you don't want to come home and get your car?"

"Nah, it's good." Vivian paused. "You sure you're not coming to the Penny?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "You don't need me there hanging out and hovering. Go make some friends with these idiots. You'll need them later on."

Vivian grinned. "I'm going to tell Andy you said that. See you later, Mom."

She watched Vivian head back into the station and sighed. It wasn't going to get easier. She'd thought it was hard letting her go to school. Letting her go, armed, into this situation was even more terrifying. Gail pulled her phone out and tapped her favorite number. "Hey, beautiful. What're you doing tonight?"

The chief medical examiner of Toronto laughed. "I was thinking about hitting up the batting cages."

"Eh, I don't do sports, Stewart."

"Our mini-human does."

"Our mini-human is taller than we are, and off to the Penny to celebrate a week of work."

Holly was quiet for a moment. "Well now I feel old. You're not going?"

"I'd spoil her fun. Besides, she hasn't told them who I am."

Her wife laughed. "Your daughter."

Gail grinned. "Your daughter." She was very much both of them. "Someone impressed forensics this week with her adherence to crime scene protocol and knowledge of medical jurisprudence."

She could actually hear Holly puff with pride. "How about I pick you up at home and we go to the batting cages and then dinner?"

"Fine, I want that Ethiopian place," Gail said firmly, getting into her car.

"Oh? You're not cooking?" Holly was teasing her now and Gail laughed. "I love you, Peck. See you in a bit."

At home, she ruminated on the fact that she was now the parent of a police officer. It had seemed to theoretical and far away, even when Viv was in college and at the academy, that she didn't really worry about it. But now it was all very real. Her kid was Officer Peck. One of about eight right now, depending on what her cousins were up to, but she was a Peck and she was a police officer.

They'd only had Vivian with them for 17 years. Was that enough to give her a good, stable, family? God knew they'd given her enough trauma and drama. Like Holly having Ebola, or Gail vanishing off the planet for a month, or all the times their jobs sucked them away from being able to be there. They'd missed sports games, plays, all sorts of things. But they'd tried.

And it wasn't like Vivian didn't know the reality of the job. She was just as aware as Gail had been at that age. Maybe more so, since Gail didn't keep any of the Peck secrets away from Vivian. Vivian had been 'Peckified' at nine. Gail remembered when she was roughly the same age and her mother sat her down to explain where her father's brother was. Uncle Gary had been undercover with the drug unit and there was a good chance he wouldn't come back alive. He did, as it happened, but they were all seriously concerned and wanted to talk about it at the house. So they asked the kid if she wanted to know.

It was always a tough burden to bear. Early in their friendship, Dov was jealous of Gail's inside track. The more he knew, like now, about how much of a cost that came at, the more apologetic he was for his behavior. The price was a loss of her childhood and innocence. She knew the reality of the world.

So did her daughter. And it was entirely her fault.

"Uh oh," muttered Holly as she came in. "I'm going to pee and you're going to tell me why you're in a tree, Peck."

Gail sighed and followed Holly up stairs. She should at least change her shoes before they went out. When she heard the flush and the sink, she asked, "Am I too old to wear my boots?"

"No," said Holly firmly.

"You're just saying that because you think I'm sexy in them," sighed Gail, staring into her side of the closet.

She was not surprised when Holly's arms wrapped around her. "Doesn't make it not true." Holly's head rested on her shoulder. "What's up?"

"Guilt and fear." Both of their mothers had said parenthood ran on those. Which meant all Gail had to do was say that for Holly to understand what she was having the feels about.

Her wife sighed, understandingly, and squeezed Gail. "How hard is the first week?"

Gail leant back against Holly and frowned. "I was constantly terrified I was going to fuck up. And I did. I totally choked. Viv's doing way better than I am."

"Ah," exhaled Holly. "That's because you're an awesome mom."

"I don't feel like one," muttered Gail. "By the way, you were right. It was about the Crown Prince."

Holly hummed an understanding. "King Wills. Good. We'll blame him. Can I become an anti-royalist?" When Gail chuckled, Holly went on. "Down with the King. He nearly killed my sex life, too."

"You're horrible," laughed Gail.

Kissing her shoulder, Holly let go and sang out, "You love it."

She did. "God help me, I do."

"Atheist!"

Gail giggled. "Stop saying it like it's a dirty word!" Religion had been much of a non-topic for them. Pecks were, in general, atheists by necessity. People who lived their lives in service often only believed in god when they were being shot at. But a Peck was raised to know that there was no higher power who would save you. And Gail knew not even her name could save her.

"Change your boots and hit a ball with me. I promise it'll make you feel better." Holly was already changing her work shirt for something more comfortable. Like Gail's Fifteen Division softball jersey.

Frowning, Gail changed her shoes. "It's only taken us 20 years, but you're wearing my clothes."

Her wife looked down and then turned to try and see her back in the mirror. It said G. Peck rather clearly with the number fifteen. "It was bound to happen," she sighed dramatically.

It was actually nice that her moms weren't there. On the other hand, Uncle Steve was holding court with the Old Guard in the back. When Vivian went to pick up the next round, her uncle waved her over.

"Pitchers of beer, huh?"

She looked at the two in her hands. "I'm sure you don't remember this long ago, but they don't pay us that much."

Her aunt Traci chortled. "You deserved that, Steve." Then to Vivian, "I'm hearing good things."

Vivian blushed a little. "Thanks. I think I'm doing okay."

"Just wait till you work a week on the desk," sighed Traci. "What are your folks up to?"

"Shenanigans, no doubt," smirked Vivian. "You guys coming by for Sunday dinner?"

Steve nodded. "We are. This lovely case you dumped in my lap will be a long unravel." When Vivian opened her mouth, her uncle went on. "No, I will not be requesting you to work patrol on it."

She shrugged. "It was worth a try."

"She is so like her mother," chortled Traci. "Pick Peck, right?"

"A little nepotism's healthy," she grinned back. Her rookie class shouted at her to bring the beer. "Gotta go. We're trying to figure out who had the best week."

"You'll win," Steve declared, lifting his bottle.

She probably would if she told them her whole week. Vivian shrugged again and went back to her class' table. "Beers. Rich, next round is you."

"You took forever, Peck!" But Rich poured drinks for everyone. "What'd the Cougar want?"

Vivian gagged. "Okay, see the pale guy next to her? That's her husband."

The conversation quickly went away from that, however, as Christian pulled out Trivia Cards. Memories of Dov playing that with her mothers came to mind and Vivian grinned, joining in. Between rounds, the others bragged about their first week.

Christian, stuck on desk duty, talked about how his great adventure was cleaning up vomit. Rich was also on desk, and had basically run errands and gotten drinks for Noelle all week. Jenny had worked in processing and had an entertaining issue with a woman arrested for holding. No one wanted the details on that one.

However that meant Lara and Viv, who were actually out in the field, had the most interesting weeks. They'd worked the same cases, Lara with Andy, and Lara had nothing but praise for Andy. "McNally's cool, you know? She's like, she's real. She knows the city, too."

As they talked, Vivian leaned back and scanned the room. Neither Andy nor Nick were around. "What about you, Peck? Heard you and Collins got the druggies," asked Jenny excitedly.

"Oh, not my case. It's the Ds." Vivian gestured over at Steve's table. "McNally gave me the collar anyway."

Lara snorted. "Peck, I've been working with McNally all week. She's good, but she doesn't give anyone anything. Besides, I heard she totally caught a shooter her first week."

Deciding not to tell the story about how Andy had also blown Sam's cover, Vivian just nodded. "It's true."

"Yeah?" Rich frowned. "Your Pecks tell you?" Vivian just shrugged and smiled. Everyone and their mother had told her that story. Including Andy's mom who'd shown up a couple times since.

With a loud sigh, Lara leaned around Vivian to look at the various old guard. "I thought I was ready for all this, but now that we're out there, I feel like I don't know anything."

Vivian toyed with her pint glass. "We don't. That's what U- That's what Sgt. Epstein said, didn't he? Nothing prepares us for the real world, so serve, protect, and don't screw up."

"Did you memorize it?" Rich looked suspicious.

She had, but only because she heard Dov and Oliver practice it a million times. "Point is, guys, we're going to make mistakes, we don't know anything. But our TOs have our backs. They're going to make is not embarrass them or Fifteen."

The table seemed to accept this. "How was your week, Peck?" Jenny waved the score card. "The collar's worth five."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "I'm not playing that. You guys have fun."

"Too big for it?" Rich was at his most annoying dude-bro ness. "Don't feel like lowering your standards to compete?"

The truth was that there was only one person Vivian felt like she was competing against, and it was herself. "Whatever, Rich." She finished her beer. "I'm out. See you guys Monday."

When she got outside, Vivian realized she wasn't sure how best to get home. Letting Gail drive her had seemed like a great idea at the start. She could take a cab, but like tomatoes, she just tended to avoid them in general. She wasn't allergic, but if you grew up with someone who was, you got used to avoiding.

Looking up at the sky, her thoughts drifted back to drugs. The Rivers idiots were back to smuggling, which was what Steve had been hunting them down for years ago. But why the hell were they calling themselves Three Rivers. Steve didn't seem all that worried about it, nor did Gail, but it niggled at Vivian's mind.

You gave a group a name that made sense.

Toronto was the Nine Rivers City. That would have made more sense. The Don River Triad was the only three river area she could think of. So maybe they started there? Would that give them a lead on where the drugs were really from? Since Steve had implied they didn't really know.

The Penny doors swung again, interrupting her thoughts. "Hey, Junior Peck."

She knew the voice. "Hi, Duncan."

"That's Officer Moore."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Moore." She alone of the new crop knew his nickname, and held onto it in her pocket. "Got a hot date tonight?"

"Nah, my folks are having a politico swing tomorrow, and I gotta go help set up."

"Sounds like fun. Uncle Al running for office?"

"Think so." He stretched. "Night."

Vivian raised her hand to wave and then asked, "Hey, Duncan? Can you give me a lift?"

The door to Vivian's room was open a crack. So, even though it was six AM on a Saturday, and her grumpy wife was surly about getting up at all, let alone that early and for a goddamned run, Holly tapped her knuckles to Vivian's door. "You make it home?"

Her daughter's head, now two and half inches over Holly's 5'9", popped out. "Is Mom coming?"

"Begrudgingly," smiled Holly.

"I'll be down in five." The door closed and Holly shook her head.

Gail was in the hallway, holding her shoes. "I hate you all," she sighed, stomping down the stairs in her running gear.

But they did all run. As much as Gail hated it in the morning, or at all, she knew she had to since her job was mostly a desk gig. Vivian, on the other hand, could and did suicide drills with ETF because she found them fun. Even Holly had trouble with the fact that their child was a jock.

As the finished their usual route, Vivian said she was going to do one more and sped off.

"That is really disturbing me," muttered Holly.

"You? You used to run marathons when I met you," teased Gail as she turned on the hose.

Holly had ratcheted down to 5ks now, running the annual police one with Gail (and the pride one without, because Gail claimed to be allergic to more than one a year). "Yeah, but our kid is ... Honey, you remember how you used to tease me for being butch?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Viv is butch."

Gail snorted, her hair wet from the hose. "Viv's a jock. Which is hilarious, because she's also an awkward nerd and a bitchy ice princess. Come on, I'll make breakfast."

With perfect timing, Vivian came in the side door on her phone just as Gail served up food. "Thanks, Uncle Steve, you're the best. See you tomorrow." Viv tossed the phone onto the counter. "I take it back, Mom, you are the best."

"Hear that, Stewart? I'm the best."

Holly rolled her eyes and kissed Gail's cheek. "I'll thank you privately later," she whispered. "Okay, honey. What's up with you and Uncle Steve?"

"I came up with a theory last night. About the Three Rivers gang," smiled Vivian.

Much to Holly's surprise, Gail scowled. "No. No. You are a rookie, you have been in blue for five days. You aren't allowed theories and plans. That's how you end up pulling a McNally."

Vivian frowned. "Just about the name, Mom. I'm not going to ask Nick to go check it out."

"You better not," scowled Gail. "Look, you have one job, kid. Serve, protect, and don't fuck up."

That was three things, mused Holly, but she didn't say it aloud. Her wife was adamant about their daughter not getting mired in the depth of police work. She listened to Gail argue that Vivian was a rookie, while Vivian protested she had more policing background than anyone there, and besides, she was just doing research. Finally they agreed that if Steve said to back off, Vivian backed off.

Sunday dinner, with Steve and Elaine and Traci, meant that the subject came up again. The last five years of her life had been filled with this. Around their fourth year together, Gail had stopped bringing up work casually at dinner. They did sometimes talk about cases they were stuck on, but they'd found a grove where the crimes from the outside world, the pain and agony, didn't come home with them. But never had Gail gushed about guns, which she knew Holly wasn't a fan of, or how she boxed a car, or anything really about the technical aspects of being a cop. That was something outside, something Gail didn't want to bring Holly into.

And then their kid announced what she wanted to be and Holly found out exactly what 'real' Peck dinners were like. There was technical talk about guns, like which ones shot best in which situations, and what rifles did best at crowd control. Elaine told stories about how she'd used a bean-bag shot gun once to take out a criminal. Steve talked about what kind of guns shot through vests and Holly felt queasy hearing about it.

That had been the last time Gail allowed it at the table. After that, the talk about weapons was done without Holly around because, as Gail pointed out, it was her damn house. Then she apologized to Holly about it. She had, Gail explained, somewhat forgotten in the fifteen years since she'd been to the Peck Dinners of old, what they talked about when they weren't arguing or putting each other down.

Not long after that, Vivian also apologized. She hadn't realized how much Holly didn't like guns. And really, Holly knew that was a bit her fault. She had been taking Vivian shooting all those years, after all. Vivian asked her why, and Holly admitted it was simply because it meant so much to the girl.

Being a parent was very odd sometimes. You did things you hated or had no interest in, just because the kid did. Gail had taken Vivian to sports games, after all, and even helped her practice.

That night was pretty mild. In fact, it reminded Holly of dinners with John and Rachel, back when they'd been an item, talking about cases. Vivian did have an idea and it wasn't terrible. Her simple idea was that the gang's name came from where the Don River split out into three branches, and that's where they must have started. Steve allowed as it wasn't terrible, but unlikely to help at the time.

And then Steve told Vivian to concentrate on her job.

Gail swore she hadn't asked him to say it.

The next week, Vivian was on desk duty. It was something Holly knew Gail had no hand in, since everyone was rotating through people, and Nick came by to complain about Rich being a douche. Vivian didn't complain, saying it gave her time to do some research and studying, which included filing a request to bring her gun home. Pending approval from Holly.

"Why do I have the deciding vote? You have all your guns here," she complained to Gail.

"My guns predated us dating," Gail said as she rubbed lotion into Holly's back.

"And you're okay with it?" Holly hissed. "A little lower on the left..."

Obligingly, Gail applied more pressure. Oh god that felt good. "Mom will get her a small gun safe. She can lock up her badge in there." Gail's fingers were easing all the aches from a four hour autopsy out of her back. It was glorious.

"Why do you lock up your badges?"

"So people can't run around and pretend to be cops." The thumbs pushed up her spine. "I don't see anything wrong with it, but it's normal in my world."

Holly sighed. "It's normal in mine too now," she realized grimly.

The hands stopped. Gail sighed loudly. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Reaching back, Holly found Gail's leg. "I'm okay with it, Gail. She's allowed to make her own choices and live her own life." Gail lay down along side her, gently massaging Holly's shoulder. "She's got that theory..."

Gail groaned. "Nope. Nope. She's a rookie, Holly. She's not allowed to have theories or ideas. She listens to her TOs, she works hard, she learns. In a couple years, she can have an opinion." Gail flopped onto her back and covered her face.

Holly smiled and sat up, pulling on her night shirt. "She can have one at home with her Mom," she pointed out. Her wife grunted. "Come on, be honest. How's she doing?"

"With the exception of Andy and Nick, rookies don't do much their first weeks."

They settled under the blankets. "You had the desk?"

"Yeah, me and Dov." Gail settled around Holly, an arm across her waist. "Thanks for putting up with us."

"There are benefits. I haven't had a speeding ticket in twenty years."

Vivian twirled her pen as she listened to the phone. "No, ma'am, it's not illegal for a delivery van to do that." She closed her eyes. "Well, ma'am, I'm pretty sure you'd want your Amazon packages- no, no ma'am, I'm not spying on you. You've called us ten times about missing packages that your neighbor brought in for you... Yes, ma'am, I have access to your ... " Vivian eyed the phone as the lady hung up. "Have a nice day," she grumbled and dropped the phone back into the cradle. "Crap, I'm getting cauliflower ear."

Her desk cohort, Jenny, smirked. "They can't all be collars and drug busts."

As soon as the whole story had made the rounds, Vivian found herself being somewhat hassled by Jenny, who had decided she was making Vivian her personal project. And she was going to get Vivian to hang out with them and play their stupid points game. "I told you, I don't care."

"Don't you have ambitions?"

"Sure," smiled Vivian. "But playing who's better is not something I think will help me. Or you."

"I need a rookie!" The voice from the back was Noelle's.

Jenny and Vivian quickly played rock-paper-scissors. "Damn it, how can you always win that game," snarled Jenny as Vivian's rock beat her scissors.

"You have a tell." Rapping the desk, Vivian trotted back to the group of people. "Noelle- Inspector Williams."

Noelle looked up, amused. She wasn't, officially, in charge of the TOs, but not a single rookie would question her. She was their Inspector. "No coffee, Peck?"

Vivian blinked. "Coffee?"

"The last Peck rookie brought me coffee," teased Noelle. That meant Gail. It was weird to think of Noelle having been Gail's TO. "This one's perfect, detective. She's already done a field test."

The detective smiled and Vivian couldn't help but grin back at Chloe Price. That's the kind of person she was. "Why am I not surprised... Now, I need you to help me play this guy."

"Yes, ma'am."

Noelle shook her head. "You are so earnest, Vivian. I swear it's like having Dov back again. Try so damn hard... Okay, you do what Detective Price asks. Don't screw up. And don't show initiative."

Well that was weird. "I'm sorry... Don't show initiative?"

"I need a nervous rookie to make this take longer than it might," explained Chloe. "Can you do any patented Stewart Nervous Babble?"

Did everyone know Holly did that? "Yes, ma'am. Never done it on command..."

Chloe slapped her shoulder. "First time for everything, Peck. Come on."

Vivian struggled to keep a smile on her face. Her job was simple. Come with Chloe to interrogation, give a couple field tests. It didn't matter that they wouldn't hold up in court, they were just trying to demonstrate how they knew. But Vivian had to keep herself looking nervous (no problem) and babble a little. Make it take at least twenty minutes, Chloe said. The test was meant to be fast, so Vivian stalled by telling the crook about her mother.

Actually she explained how her mom's side of the family was all scientists, and they all loved experiments and rockets and things like that. Holly's cousin the rocket scientist was actually Gail's favorite, since he brought over the best fireworks. But she did manage to babble on command, on demand, and make the criminals insanely skittish and nervous. Once the test was done, she followed Chloe back out.

"Okay, now we let 'em stew," smiled Chloe. "Good job."

"Thanks," grinned Vivian. "He's not on anything."

"Oh I know," nodded the perky red head. "He's a runner, though. And I need him as off kilter to try and get some information. I'm not as good as breaking people by waiting as Gail is."

That was still weird. Gail had no patience, at all, and yet when it came to cracking perps she was the king of waiting them out. "Does it really work?"

"Sometimes." Chloe seemed unconcerned. "Off you go."

Vivian knew the dismissal meant she'd probably not learn anything more about the case. It was the only interesting part about desk duty. Rarely, if ever, did anyone bring anything cool to front desk. Except for Oliver. Just as shift was ending and Vivian was handing off her spot to someone else, she heard his voice. "Officer Peck!"

Vivian turned and grinned. "Hey, Ollie. Jenny, buzz him in will you?"

Jenny eyed her. "Who's that?"

"Only Fifteen's greatest Inspector in the history of, oh, ever. Oliver Shaw, Jenny Aronson."

Happily extending his hand over the desk, Oliver smiled. "Pleased to meet you, rookie. And if that's what my Peckling says about me, listen to everything she says."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Really? Peckling? Still?"

"Gotta tell you apart from Keystone, Petulant, Nash, and Wet." The fact that her cousin who wanted in on the marine unit was 'wet Peck' would be used against him later.

They let Oliver in and he quickly hugged Vivian. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Uncle Ollie?"

He chuckled. "I'm here to see Noelle. She still in?"

"She's in the downstairs office. D- Sgt. Epstein's at the big building today." Vivian navigated through the desks.

"Good, good. You're done? Want to buy your uncle a drink after?"

"I'm stuck waiting on my ride," she shrugged.

"Aaaaah, Peck Force One flies again? It's a good thing, Peckling. This? That's bonding."

"I know. Just means I'm always bumming rides home."

He grinned at her in that easy, happy way that Oliver always smiled. And reached to her waist. Viv clapped her elbow to her side and glowered. From the stairs someone laughed. "Oliver, do you ever give up? She's not even wearing a gun!"

"Bah, I could always do that to you, darlin.'" Oliver bounced up the stairs and hugged Traci tight. "You never come by anymore. What's up with that? Too big missy lead D?"

"Yes," laughed Traci.

They walked into Dov's office where Noelle laughed to see them and Vivian shook her head, too amused at the trio. As she started to change in the locker room, Jenny and Lara sat down on either side of her. "Sooooooo." Lara was grinning.

"So?" Vivian frowned and kicked her shoes into her locker.

"Sooooo how do you get all chummy with Oliver Shaw?" Lara leaned into Vivian and bumped her shoulder.

Frowning more, Vivian squirmed. "Don't do that."

"He, like, hugged you," pointed out Jenny.

"He's, like, my uncle," grumbled Vivian. "It's different."

Jenny kept on, "You don't hug anyone."

"I hug my moms." The plural seemed to skip their brains as her cohorts gave her a little room and they all changed for end of shift, talking about how Viv was lucky to know all those people.

Leaving in a rush, because she had a date, Jenny breezed out faster than Vivian even changed her pants. "That girl," muttered Lara. "She's had a different boy every night!"

Vivian arched her eyebrows. "She did that at the academy too."

"She did?" Lara grinned. "Okay, Peck, how'd you know?"

"We were neighbors." She also knew Jenny had slept with one of the instructors. Traci admitted she had as well, telling Vivian that was how she met Jerry originally. All the girls had their own dorm rooms. Actually, almost everyone did. Gail had been complaining for years about the drop off in recruits.

Lara grinned evilly. "You're my new best friend. Do you know about the guys?"

Waggling a hand, Vivian pulled on a clean shirt and buttoned it up. "Please just don't tell me you find Rich hot. I might gag."

They both laughed. "God no, but Christian... He's adorable."

Vivian smirked. "He's single. But I would avoid dating at work."

With a big sigh, Lara changed her shoes. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Then she asked, "Wait, he's single?"

"Yeah, he had a girl back in Timmins, but he broke up when he went to college."

Lara stared at her. "You and Christian...?"

Vivian blinked. "What? Oh no, hell no." She laughed. "He's like a brother." She and Christian had been text-buddies since Chris Diaz's funeral, so she had been witness (digitally) to his serious high school girl and their breakup. He really was like a brother, and having him at the academy had been a wonderful thing.

"Oh. Cause... You guys are all ... He drives you back from the Penny."

There were two ways to explain it. One way involved talking about funerals and death and pain. The other was relatively simple. "Yeah, I'm a lesbian, so that ain't happening."

Lara blinked. Then she grinned. "Please tell me no one knows. We can have so much fun with Rich."

Vivian chuckled and shook her head. "No thanks. I don't think I could stomach him hitting on me." She closed her locker and locked it.

"Good point. He hit on me. It was gross." Lara stomped her shoes into place. "You single?"

Hitching her bag to her shoulder, Vivian smiled. "Not looking." Lara sighed but, before she could speak Vivian went on. "See. I know we're rookies. We don't get to follow cases or solve crimes or wipe our asses without our TOs say so. But damn if it's not annoying. They've got no idea about the Three Rivers gang, how they're getting the drugs in, and it's a dead end. It's annoying."

"Okay, how have I never heard you talk more than a couple sentences before?"

"I cultivate an air of introspection."

Her classmate was quiet. "This means a lot to you. This job."

"Yeah. This is... This is the only thing I ever really wanted to be."

Lara sighed. "Yeah." That seemed to be all, so Vivian turned to go. "Hey, Peck? Don't forget we're supposed to be people. Cops, yeah, but people."

She paused at the doorway. "Thanks, Volk. I'll keep that in mind."

But Lara had a point. It was the same point her moms had. Be the girl, not the job. That was funny to say to a Peck, but it was true. She'd have to figure that out, starting tonight. Tonight was a drink with Oliver.

Chapter Text

That was not who Gail expected to see at the Penny. But, walking in with John and Steve, they all three paused at the sight of Olivia Best standing at the bar, talking to Vivian.

"When the hell did they get old enough to drink?" Steve, clearly feeling his age, grumbled.

"This will not end well," noted John.

"I need a drink," Gail decided, and pushed through her partner-cum-sergeant and brother to get to their regular table, where Traci sat. "How long has the standoff been going on?" She raised a hand to the bartender who nodded. Her regular drink was on its way.

Traci sipped her wine. "About ten minutes. Vivian's very good about not moving her lips much."

Part of Gail was pleased to see her daughter being aware she was being spied on. Gail watched her daughter shake her head firmly. "I thought Liv was still in Montréal."

"Noelle told me she got back today. Landed some amazing grad program in San Diego she transfers to UCSD this fall." Traci glanced over and shook her head a little.

That made some sense. "So she's come by to say hey and screw with Viv," grumbled Steve as he sat down, Gail's drink in hand. As always, he was his niece's staunch defender.

"Steve. Come on. It's a huge thing." Gail sipped her beer.

The two had not broken up well, and really it was Vivian's fault. They'd done long distance alright for the first part of the year, all the way up to Christmas. Then, for spring break, Vivian drove out to see Olivia, and that was where it went to hell.

Very clearly, Gail remembered the eventual arrival of a child who had not slept more than five hours in six days. The weird texts from Olivia had confused everyone. Then Vivian came home and slept for over 24 hours, becoming sullen and withdrawn, blaming Gail for things, and crying.

All because her kid couldn't sleep over at someone else's place.

Nothing made Gail angrier than knowing the world had done that to her baby girl. The fact that Vivian's own father had left her with a fear that something horrible would happen if she wasn't home was agonizing. And there was nothing Gail could do to make it better.

Worst of all, for Viv and Liv's relationship, Vivian wouldn't (or couldn't) tell her best friend why she wasn't able to sleep. Apparently exhaustion kicked in after three days and Vivian slept enough to be safe to drive home. But that shattered their dating life, and to some degree their friendship as well.

Her poor kid.

Gail didn't blame Olivia for much of it. They were eighteen and stupid. Of course, the fact that they hadn't hooked up from time to time after in the summers impressed Gail a little. Hadn't she done that with Nick? It would have convenient, but it did tend to stifle emotional growth a little. For all Vivian was disturbingly mature, she had her blind spots, and relationships were definitely one. But you couldn't live everything for your kid. At least that aspect of her daughter's 'love life' wasn't totally screwed up. It probably helped that Vivian did move on and date a few girls, like Skye and Pia.

"How bad was their breakup?" John eased into the seat beside Gail and handed over her drink.

"Weird. Not as nasty as me and Nick, or me and Holly... Or me and Chris." Gail eyed her partner. "Shut up."

"Fine. I just like your kid. She's... You know sometimes I look at her and I think maybe I shoulda had kids."

"You're a good uncle," she mused.

John lifted his glass. "Thank you."

They watched Vivian shake her head and go back to the table with her fellow rookies. Olivia stayed at the bar for a moment before turning around to go. "Fuck that," sighed Gail. She raised her voice. "Hey, short stuff. Not gonna say hi?"

Olivia started. "Aunt Gail!" With a momentary glance back to Vivian, who had her back to the bar, Liv crossed the room and smiled. "I didn't think you'd be here."

"We closed a good case today." Gail gestured at a seat.

"Better not. Don't want to make Viv's day absolute ass."

Well. That was promising. "How long you in town for?"

"Few months. I have a lot to do before I move into my new place."

"Hell of a move," remarked Steve. "You're going to be awesome, Little Best."

Olivia blushed. "Thanks. I should go, though." She hesitated and Gail nodded.

"I need some air. Come on, kid." She put her beer down and walked with Olivia outside. This would be the perfect moment to light a cigarette. No one smoked anymore. "So?"

The rambunctious teenager Gail had watched grow up hunched her shoulders. "How's Viv really doing?"

Gail arched her eyebrows. "Real good. Great. She pulled a collar, first day out." The last Peck to do that had been Elaine, really, and she hadn't been a Peck back then. "She's still not talking to you?"

"Not much, no."

"Waylaying her at the Penny might not have been the best thing."

Liv sighed. "I know. But it was that or your house, and I kinda think that's worse."

Alright, she had a point. "She's not mad at you, Liv."

"Oh. I know. I just miss my friend, Viv. You know? I wish I could talk to her like we used to."

The two used to be up all night on the phone, until Holly threatened to install a cell phone blocker. And here was Olivia, moving across the continent to a new job and a new life. She was probably scared to death. "I'll talk to her," sighed Gail.

Liv nodded. "Just. Just tell her I want to be friends?"

They hadn't really been friends since they broke up, though. Vivian was more like Holly in that regard. The secret to Gail's ability to remain friends with her ex's was that she just didn't care if they were annoyed with her. It was about the same as dating them frankly.

"Sure," promised Gail. "How you getting home?"

"Taxi." Olivia hesitated and then gave Gail a quick hug before walking off.

Ugh, kids. Maybe Holly would have some ideas on how to approach it.

Vivian hated shitty days.

Days like that, the crap days where you wanted to just go back to bed and be ten and have your moms bring you breakfast and maybe play Mario Kart, those shitty days always started with idiots like Rich being a dick.

They were stationed together in a van, doing surveillance on a drug drop. It was a wired site with rookies and young cops standing point. All they had to do was sit in a van and alert the actual cops to anyone suspicious. Because a windowless van wasn't weird at all.

Before they'd gotten in the van, Rich had started in on Viv for taking a piss. She remembered Traci's story about having to pee when she did van duty and did not want a repeat. But Rich, as the owner of a penis, had to be a total asshole when it came to Vivian being a little late to the van. So she got shit for that too.

The shittier thing was that she knew she was in the van with Rich because Christian had threatened to punch him, and Rich hit on both Jenny and Lara at the Penny. So the lesbian was safe. She just didn't like him as a person and found herself thinking uncharitable thoughts. Like 'if Rich got stabbed, maybe he'd be nicer.' Or even 'would Moms suspect me if I beaned him with my nightstick?'

Answers? No and yes. Holly always knew.

"There's a suspicious guy," muttered Rich, reaching for the radio. Vivian smacked his hand with her stick, not even looking. "Ow! Damnit!"

"Rich, if we clutter up the airwaves, we'll get dinged. Shut up. It's just a hipster going into the weed shop." Maybe he'd be less of an ass if he tried weed, thought Vivian absently.

"Yeah but-"

"Rich, seriously. Caucasian male, red-brown hair, fuck tonne of pomade and a goddamned twirled mustache. Skinny blue jeans, cuffs rolled up, black sneakers, dark shirt. Suspenders. Hip. Ster."

That shut him up for a moment. "What if they sell more than weed?"

"Not worth their license," she muttered.

The radio cracked to life. "Hanford, Peck, eyes on the black SUV. License reads charlie, tango, niner, zed, niner, papa. Copy?"

Vivian picked up the radio. "Copy, Fifteen. Gas guzzler in sight. Driver and shotgun staying with the vehicle. Backseat, both doors open. Eyes on our guy and his muscle."

"Copy, Peck. Hanford, watch the guys to the door. Peck, stay on the car."

The voice was a detective she knew from drugs. One of Chloe's minions. "Copy, sir." She shifted and studied the car, taking notes without looking down. Gail had suggested she practice that. Watch TV and take notes at the same time.

"Man, I wish we were in the building," grumbled Rich.

Inside were Lara and Christian. Jenny was back at the station. Vivian settled down on her seat. "We have a better vantage point."

Rich grumbled and they fell silent. The guys in the car were more concerned with their phones. "How long have they been in there?" Glancing at her watch, Vivian gave him the time. "Ten minutes? Crap, I need to pee."

Vindication. "Use a bottle," she grinned, evilly. She knew her smile was a Peck smile. It was that smile Gail got that made Holly roll her eyes and everyone else run in fear.

"Don't look," he ordered and Vivian gagged as she heard his zipper go down.

"Trust me, not looking." She eyed the SUV again. They were getting out. "Fifteen, driver is on the move."

The radio crackled. "Where's he going?"

"Weed shop."

There was a pause. "Say again, Peck?"

"Repeat, the driver went into the medical marijuana dispensary." Vivian was so sure there was laughter going on at Fifteen right then and she sighed. But before the detective could make a joke about how the driver needs a little Mary Jane, she and Rich heard it.

A gun.

One-two, one-two-three.

The radio crackled to life. "Shots fired!" That was Christian, scared shitless, and Vivian couldn't blame him.

The Ds were on the wire in a second. "Someone give me eyes on the shooter."

Rich grabbed the radio. "No eyes. I got the ... Uh, I got the drug dealers. They're leaving the building, no guns drawn."

That comment kicked Vivian's memory. The driver had been unarmed. The other guy in the car was shouting at him. "Holy shit, Rich!" The man tossed the radio over and Vivian thumbed it on. "Driver is unarmed, running out of the dispensary. They're all going, do we follow or-"

"Stay there." That was McNally. Oh thank god. Someone was in charge. "Peck, did the shots come from the dispensary?"

In the background, Vivian heard someone say that she couldn't know that. Except she did. It was a game Elaine liked to play. What did she see? What did she hear? She was looking at the car. The birds on the tree moved. Her eyes snapped to the dispensary. "I think so, ma'am."

"1504, they've got the good, follow the car. McNally, grab the van rooks. Channel 18."

And the radio went dead. "Are we going in?" Rich looked scared.

"Zip your fly," muttered Vivian, pulling her vest snug. Thank god they wore vests. Stories about how they didn't always wear vests, or how they didn't have cameras, came to mind. Vivian flipped her radio to 18 and checked in, quickly hearing McNally order them out of the van.

"We don't have guns, Peck," hissed Rich.

Grimly, Vivian flipped on her camera and took her baton off her belt. "Be cool, Hanford."

McNally pulled up in 1509. "Anyone else come out?" They shook their heads. "Back exit's quiet too." She tapped her radio. "Duncan, hear anything?"

"No, Boss," said the man. Vivian struggled to think of dorky, idiot, Duncan as a TO. She saw him so much growing up, at dinners with Uncle Al, that he was just a dumb cousin. "Door's chained and bolted from the outside. That ain't legal is it?"

It most certainly was not legal. McNally nodded. "Hanford, Peck, follow me." The seasoned officer pounded on the door. "This is the Police. We're coming in."

No reply. That wasn't good. McNally pushed the door open keeping to the side. They were quiet. The room was incredible open. There was barely any place to hide, but they did sweep the room. At least until Rich shrieked.

Both Andy and Vivian rushed over, Vivian holding her baton and feeling like an idiot. "Hanford, what is it?"

"They're dead!"

"They?" Andy blinked and looked down. "Well hell."

Vivian leaned over. She towered almost six inches over McNally, something Gail had gleefully pointed out when Vivian sprouted, so it was easy to look over her shoulder. Indeed, they was the right word. A man holding a gun was dead, as was a man with bullet holes in him. "Whoops."

"Peck, check the gun."

"Yes'm." She snapped her baton back to size and hooked it on her belt. Then she pulled a rubber glove out of her pocket and put it on. "Barrel's warm." She glanced at McNally who nodded. Right. Checking the pulse of each man, she shook her head. "Dead. Recently."

Rich, who had started to calm down, blustered, "How the hell can you know that?"

But McNally just nodded. Of course she knew why Vivian knew more about dead bodies. "You good sticking with them while Soprano and I clear the store?"

Vivian smiled. "Yeah, I'm good, McNally."

She didn't touch the bodies any more, carefully taking off her glove and folding it in on itself. Her talk at the academy had been on medical jurisprudence, making Gail laugh hysterically, but really growing up with Holly meant know one knew the sanctity of a crime scene better. And concentrating on that was a hell of a lot better than thinking about how Liv wanted to talk.

They cleared the rest of the scene and called in forensics, which took up the rest of the day. By the time they got done, it was well after lunch so Andy let them pick a place for lunch. Waiting in line for 'the best gyros ever, according to Oliver,' Vivian pulled out her phone and eyed the messages.

"Don't you have a smart watch?" Rich held out a bottle of vitamin water.

"I do," confirmed Vivian, absently checking the purely functional watch she wore. It was from Gail's ten-year ceremony. And it was almost two pm. She texted Holly to tell her about the case.

"Why aren't you wearing it?"

Vivian looked up. "Why don't I wear an expensive half-toy watch while in uniform? Why don't I wear earrings or a necklace?"

Predictably, Rich didn't get it. "You and Christian have the same watch as McNally."

Okay, so he was a little perceptive. "Popular watch," she shrugged, deferring the question. Christian wore Chris Diaz's watch, which had been Vivian's idea. She thought he might want something to remember the man by.

"You're just full of secrets, Peck," muttered Rich.

Smiling, Vivian room the box of food from the clerk. "Thanks." She slipped him a tip and headed back to the van.

At the station, they ate with Andy and Duncan, both of whom were happy to chat about the case. The autopsy would be tomorrow and the techs had the guns, but right now they had a theory that the guy with the gun shot the owner, and then... Something killed him. Which Andy joked wasn't a theory as much as a fact with little information.

"What about the guys we were supposed to be watching? Anton Hill's people?" Rich swirled a fry in the tzitziki sauce. "They saw what went down."

"The driver?" Andy nodded. "Yeah. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" She shook her head. "They got away."

Vivian sighed. Who told her police work was glamorous?

Glancing at the names on the report, Holly did a double take. Peck, V. It was officially weird and disconcerting. She looked at the other names and felt a little better. McNally and Moore, or as Gail still called them after decades, the Fuck Up Twins. Ugh. Where was Nick? Having him TO their baby girl was ... Well it was a little better. Not much.

Her watch buzzed and Holly glanced at the message from her daughter.

Found two DBs! Medical Jurisprudence!

Holly snorted a laugh. That was her kid alright. Shaking her head, Holly read the preliminary field report. They'd heard shots fired, cleared the scene, found two dead bodies. One shot, one mystery. Well that was interesting.

The case was in the hands of Wanda, her erstwhile cougar hunting pathologist, but one of the fun things about being the boss was that Holly could go down and check out whatever anyone was working on. And today that meant she was going to see what this mystery death was all about. "Katie, I'll be downstairs," she told her secretary.

"Anything interesting?" Katie had been the downstairs secretary for years. When Holly made assistant ME, she brought Katie along. Sadly Katie was planning to move to Manitoba soon.

"GSW and a mystery."

"Oh, and you love a good mystery, boss," smiled the woman behind the desk. "I'll take messages unless it's important."

"Thank you very much," sang Holly and she took the elevators down.

Wanda was still going over the papers when Holly arrived. "Hey, Boss. Here for the mystery?"

Grinning, Holly shrugged. "I love me a good mystery. Is ballistics running the bullet?"

"Yep. Caliber and type match. Marco'll have the full results tomorrow." Wanda didn't bother to ask if Holly wanted to see the bodies, she just kicked away from her desk and went with Holly to the morgue. "Will the rookies come down for the autopsy?"

"Probably. It's about time." Holly watched Wanda pull out the first body. "McNally's the TO in charge of this case, I'll suggest it to her." They looked at the gunshots. "Huh. That's interesting."

"Yeah, close range. There's stippling."

Holly leaned in and sniffed. "Whoooof. That's a lot of weed."

"ID says he ran the shop," noted Wanda, and she pulled open the second one. "This guy, though. No idea, no info, prints were a negative."

Zipping up the owner and tucking him away, Holly eyed the mystery man. "You swab his mouth? That could be bile."

"Cop on the scene didn't mention it." Wanda held up her iPad.

Holly had skimmed the report, but she didn't have Gail's recall ability. "We don't have their reports yet."

And Wanda snorted. "We have two. McNally and Peck put theirs in already."

"Peck," laughed Holly. "Okay, what did my kid say?"

Wanda edited as she read, "She checked the gun and the pulse. John Doe was face down holding the gun, which was warm. No blood pool, no wet... Hey, she took a photo."

It was impossible not to grin. "Decent photo."

"How the hell is she a cop?" Wanda shook her head. "Wasn't it just yesterday I met her after embarrassing the hell out of myself?"

Now it was funny. Then it had been awkward as fuck. "No, yesterday she was seven and sleeping on the couch with Gail," sighed Holly. "Of course, I was also in my forties."

Wanda grinned. "Can't have everything. I was going to check him out tomorrow."

"That's good." They set up the time and Holly pulled out her phone to call Dov, suggesting he let the rookies come down for an autopsy. "They found them, after all."

The sergeant laughed. "Didn't Duncan pass out?"

"Maybe," grinned Holly.

"Are you doing the autopsy?"

"No, Dr. Ury is. I think it might be inappropriate to do the first one for my own kid."

Dov made a thoughtful sound. "Okay, they'll get Duncan, though. I need Andy to find our witness."

"That would be good," agreed Holly. That was quickly sorted, and Holly texted Gail to warn her about baby's first autopsy. She remembered to tell Gail that she wasn't allowed to come.

You're no fun.

Holly laughed as she went back to the elevator, texting Gail that she was incredibly fun. Her wife replied that Holly was annoying. But then Gail had an idea.

$20 says the Monkey asks us about drugs.

Interesting idea. Holly thumbed her reply.

By the end of the case.

Gail one upped her.

Please. Tonight.

That was a deal, and Holly sent the shaking hands emoji.

As Vivian pulled out plates that night, of course she asked, "Moms, have you done drugs?"

Without looking, Gail held out a hand to Holly. "Pay up."

Holly rolled her eyes. Of course Gail had put money that Vivian would ask about it before the day was over. And there they were. "I'll pay you later. Yes, Viv."

That surprised their daughter. "Wait, really?"

"How did I end up with a prude for a daughter?" Gail shook her head. "I smoked out a couple times."

Vivian grimaced. "Not weed. That's barely a drug, Moms."

Holly sighed and looked at Gail, beseechingly. Normally Gail might say Holly was on her own for explaining that one, but she smiled. "Well. Did you blaze up, kiddo?"

"Yes," she sassed at Gail. "Liv and Matty and I tried it. Once. I didn't like it."

"Me neither," admitted Gail. "And I sure as hell am not trying it now, but apparently I've always been a little susceptible to drugs." She sighed dramatically. "At least I can drink."

"Which you barely do." Holly grinned and sliced the bread.

"You're totally avoiding the question. Okay, I want to guess." Vivian closed her eyes. "Shrooms."

Holly threw her hands up. "How the hell did you teach her that, Gail?"

Smiling, Gail shook her head. "Didn't do it. Really? You did shrooms?"

Narrowing her eyes, Holly asked, "What's the statue of limitations on this?"

"I give you my word I won't press charges on my wife. That bed sucks alone." Gail held up her hand in a Boy Scout salute and cleared her throat. A moment later, Vivian mimicked the pose.

Holly sighed. "Fine. It was in college. I got paranoid and locked myself in a closet. Happy?"

Of course Gail teased her, "You sure that wasn't on weed?"

"Fuck you, Peck," snapped Holly. "You're not funny." But Gail's hands were on her hips, drawing her close. "I'm annoyed with you," she said softly. "You're not getting out of this by being cute." But Gail's lips were soft on her own. It was hard to be annoyed when she was being sweet.

"Sorry," whispered Gail, sincerely. "Monkey, no more asking Mom about her life as an addict. Also, Steve told you to lay off the case."

"I was thinking about the John Doe shooter, actually," admitted Vivian.

Holly pointed at Gail. "Did you tell her?"

But Gail's hands went up and Vivian looked confused. "Tell me what?"

Glaring at her wife without any malice, Holly kissed her cheek. "You and that frat boy get to see an autopsy tomorrow."

To her credit, Vivian just nodded. "I'm still sorry," she muttered and went to get the salad.

At sixteen, Vivian convinced one of the lab techs that letting her into the morgue was allowed since she was Holly's daughter. Then the girl filched a lab coat and snuck into an autopsy Rodney was performing for med students and sat in the back watching. Rodney had hauled her out as soon as he noticed her and called Holly. The tech had an ear full from it, as did Vivian, who only had the argument of "But Elaine said Mom and Steve saw one at my age!"

"You're still lucky Rodney decided not to file charges," noted Gail, amused. She had actually been fine if he had, but Holly asked Rodney to let her do unofficial community service. For two months, after school, Vivian helped do scut work at the lab. Then Rodney let her watch a real autopsy, after Gail and Holly signed papers allowing it.

That had been back when Holly had hope their kid would go into sciences and not policing. "I know," Viv sighed. "And I didn't tell anyone."

"I know," noted Holly. "Rodney said you just called him Dr. Frang the whole time he gave your class the lecture." No one called Rodney by his last name.

"So... Is it gauche to ask which autopsy?" Vivian looked a little sheepish.

Gail rolled her eyes and put the beef on their plates. Seared beef with a Peruvian purple potato salad with butter beans, something Gail had seen on a cooking show and decided to try. "Mystery guy. The gunshot's pretty cut and dried, I suspect."

Vivian made a 'huh' noise. "The driver wasn't armed when he went in."

"You sure about that?" Gail was rather conversational but Holly blinked. Her kid had seen this all go down?

"Yes, positive. He was in a tight shirt and hipster skinny jeans... Which I guess explains why he went into the store in the first place." She looked amused. "Who does that? Middle of your boss negotiating a massive drug deal, you go to buy your prescription weed?"

Gail laughed. "He's an idiot, too. We'll get him on camera and match the receipts."

"Ah crap, I know what I'm doing tomorrow," groaned Vivian.

"Rookies do scut work," smirked Gail, ruffling Viv's hair. "Right. Let's eat! This smells way too good!"

The current rule was no shop talk at dinner. That started in order to not bring up things in front of Vivian as a child. Now it existed to stop pissing off Holly and remind Gail to turn off the Peck. It was just so easy for Gail, even now, to be that Peck.

So dinner turned to sports. Basketball, since it was spring, was on Vivian's mind, as well as hockey. Gail, who could care less, just smiled as she watched them talk. They talked about the news as well, something Gail joined in on more than Holly, and had most of a quiet, normal night. Except for Vivian's phone.

"You going to get that?" Holly gestured at her daughter's watch, which was blinking again.

"Not right now," replied the young girl.

Gail looked thoughtful. "It's okay to still be mad about it."

It? Holly eyed her wife. "Spill."

But Vivian answered. "It's Olivia. She's in town for a couple months before she moves to San Diego."

Holly blinked. "San Diego? One of you better unpack."

Gail cleared her throat, "She got the Salk scholarship. Liv's transferring to UCSD to study there, and she's got an in on a fellowship at Scrips when it's done."

"And she came by the Penny last night to say hello. She wants to be friends like we were." Vivian's eyes didn't leave her plate as she spoke. "Which is why she's been texting me."

Ah. "Gail," sighed Holly, turning to her wife. She didn't have to say it. She knew Gail understood that not everyone were friends after breaking up.

"Mom talked to her at the Penny," pointed out Vivian. It was non-accusatory. Just a statement. Clearly Vivian was conflicted.

Holly chewed on some of the meat. "Well. Do you still have feelings for her?" Her daughter shook her head.

On the other hand, Gail looked surprised. "You're ... You're just gonna ask her like that?"

"She's not a child," muttered Holly. "And even when she was, we didn't shy around that."

"She's sitting right here." Vivian sounded morose. "She's still living here. She's probably always gonna live here." And she didn't want to talk to Liv about why she still lived at home, it seemed.

"You stayed at the Academy okay," said Gail softly.

"Mostly." Vivian put her fork down and sighed. "It filled my head up so much..."

Holly kept eating. What did Gail always say? Lower the bar. Give her something simple she could do. "If she asks, tell her you don't want to talk about it."

Her hazel eyed child looked up, confused. "That's it? Tell her I don't want to talk about it?"

Smiling, Holly gestured with her fork. "Eat, please. You'll feel better. And yes. That's it. You tell her no, and she won't press." Vivian opened her mouth. "If she does, walk away. She'll get the idea."

"I suddenly see why none of your exes show up in our life, Lunchbox," smirked Gail.

Holly ignored her. "If Liv really wants to be your friend above all else, she'll respect that. But she's moving to another country and it's scary and she probably would like her best friend around."

Vivian snorted. "It's the States, Mom. Matty's lived in New York for years." Vivian and Olivia's best friend, Matty, had gone to design school in New York. There was a photo of him with Tim Gunn stuck to Vivian's pegboard.

"Not everyone has been to Europe four times before she was twenty," remarked Gail, surprisingly astute on this one.

And Vivian looked sheepish. "Fine. I'll text her later."

That night it was Vivian who sat on the back porch, quietly talking to her once best-friend and former girlfriend.

"You give good advice, Stewart," whispered Gail, tugging her away from the back. "So how come all your exes avoid you?"

"I break their hearts and they can't bear to see me again," mused Holly, smiling.

Gail shook her head. "They are weak, weak, women." Keeping hold of Holly's hand, she headed to the stairs. "Or I'm incredibly awesome. Probably both."

"At least I don't have to worry about your ego."

Fixing her tie, Vivian bumped the door open for the morgue while Duncan lectured them.

"You guys need to listen for a second," he said as they went inside. "See, it's our job, right, to make the city safe and not screw up. But if we do, we gotta come here. Dead people means we failed out there, get it?" They both nodded at him. "In here, the doctors and the lab geeks are the boss. They tell you to do something, do it. You ain't smarter than they are. Don't touch anything, or anyone. Treat the bodies with respect, 'cause they're, y'know, people. Human people."

Rich cleared his throat. "But they're dead."

"Still humans, Hanford. Okay? And, you know what? You guys don't speak until spoken to, okay? You're rookies but you're cops, so remember we gotta listen and learn when we're down here. Got it?"

They nodded again and Vivian grinned as Dr. Ury greeted them. "Officer Moore. And these are the witness rookies?"

"Yeah," replied Duncan, puffing up a little. Holy crap, he was flirting. "Probationary Officers Hanford and Peck. This is Dr. Ury."

Rich grinned. "Pleased to meet you."

Vivian rolled her eyes slightly, just enough that Dr. Ury noticed and smirked. "Doctor."

"Nice to meet you officers. This is your first official autopsy, so you stand back there and don't interrupt. If you have to puke, use the sink in the back." When Rich scoffed, Dr. Ury and Duncan scowled. "You think that's funny? There's no false bravado here, Officer. A man is dead. And you may think you're okay with the death, but an autopsy is a whole different kettle of fish." Dr. Ury turned to her assistant and said something else quietly.

Rich glanced at Vivian and hissed, "She serious?" When Vivian nodded, he exhaled a grunt. "What's the big deal? They're dead."

"Says the guy who shrieked like a girl when he saw them," Duncan pointed out. That was something Gail might have said, except for the 'like a girl' part. And when both Vivian and Dr. Ury glowered, Duncan back pedaled. "Not that girls ain't tough."

Surprisingly, even Rich seemed to think the sexism was crass. "It just surprised me," he muttered. "And so I shrieked, whatever. I won't pass out. You, Peck?"

Vivian just shook her head and smiled.

In the end, Rich didn't pass out. He did turn a little green when the internal organs came out and Dr. Ury asked if they wanted to see the oddity within. The lesions on the liver indicated he was using some dirty stuff, but with no trac marks, it was quite abnormal. Then Vivian asked if there were brain lesions, which she knew could indicate specific types of drugs, and Dr. Ury grinned and pulled out the saw. That was when Rich puked.

But no lesions on the brain.

They got back to the station, and no one made fun of Rich. Vivian never would and when Duncan opened his mouth to start, she cleared her throat and muttered to him that she knew. That shut him up. Holly loved the story about how Duncan had thrown up at his first four autopsies. Every time he was a jerk at a family dinner, those stories came out.

Still, Rich passed on lunch when Vivian pulled out her leftovers. "Okay, but you're not getting any of my food," she warned him, settling into the chair in the AV room.

"How can you eat?"

"Well, my mom is a fucking kick ass cook..." She loved Gail's cooking.

"I mean after the ... " He swallowed.

"Autopsy? Because I'm hungry." Vivian didn't have Gail's rather insatiable appetite or incredible metabolism. She did, on the other hand, do enough exercise for someone on ETF, so she was often very hungry too. Holly teased the hell out of both of them.

Not knowing any of that, Rich just looked at her like she was insane. "You're weird and creepy, Peck," he muttered. "What the hell are we doing?"

He wasn't asking the meaning of life, she assumed and stretched. "We are watching videos, on tape, which aren't time stamped, because the owner's an idiot. And we're looking for the driver to see if we can get him paying cash or credit, and one hopes his ID."

"Can't they check the receipts?"

"Place used a swipe on a tablet computer. We're probably waiting on a warrant."

Rich eyed her. "Warrant?"

"Yeah, they don't save that stuff on the computers locally. It's all in the cloud. And we don't have his pass-codes anyway."

"Can't computer forensics crack it?"

She looked surprised. "Not likely. Apple built their shit without back doors, which is cool for your own privacy but a fucking nightmare for us. We just know what app he used." Which was weird, when Vivian thought about it. "Wonder if he has a business partner..."

Rich started the tape. "Because this is tape and the computer shit's expensive?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "Weird, ain't it?"

"Maybe that's the dead guy."

"Like we'd get that lucky," sighed Vivian, settling into watch. The quality wasn't bad, and it was high resolution for tape. It didn't seem that he used the tapes over and over. Uncle Oliver had lamented about that once.

About an hour in, Rich muttered, "No one cares about your hemorrhoids, man. God, shut up."

Vivian pressed pause. "What the what?"

"The clerk, dead guy number one? He's been telling everyone about his ass. I mean, come on."

She stared at Rich for a long moment. "What? How the hell do you know that?"

And Rich looked embarrassed. "I ... I can read lips." His face got read and he mumbled, quickly, "My old man is deaf."

Vivian grinned. "Fucking hell, sit closer. As soon as we get this guy, you tell me what he's saying, I'll write."

Confused, Rich did and as they finally found their shooter on the video, started to narrate. "Hey, Jack, long time no see... Yeah, yeah, me too. How's the wife? ... Oh, that's too bad... I can't see what he's saying there-"

"Don't worry," muttered Vivian, watching and writing as fast as she could. Thank god she knew shorthand.

"Right... Ah, okay... My prescription expired, but I got a one time refill."

Vivian jammed the pause button. "Can you see what that says? God, why do doctors have to have such shit handwriting."

They strained and finally Vivian took a screenshot. "Press play," Rich said softly. On the video, the clerk (Jack Mancuso, they already knew that) picked it up. "Think you can do me a solid? ... I know, but we've been friends for a long time. I've got cash..."

At that point on the video, the hipster they'd seen walk into the store waltzed in. Jack held up his hand to the mystery guy, who turned to walk around the store. Shopping. "Hipster guy doesn't know him, it looks like."

"No, they're just talking about a regular prescription. Anxiety. How does weed make that better?"

"Fuck if I know." They watched the hipster leave the store with a bag of pot and then the clerk, Jack, came around to flip the sign. Vivian didn't remember seeing that happen. Maybe she couldn't see it from her position. No... She was watching the driver. "Wait... If he flipped the sign..." She rewound. The sign was flipped, the door was not locked.

"Okay, I can read Jack... Should I?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Right. Uh. Okay... Look, Kenton? Canton? Kent? Not sure. Look Kent, we're old friends, but I can't lose my license. I gotta pay alimony."

"That explains the wife," muttered Vivian.

"Kent- yeah! His name is Kent." Rich grabbed Vivian's arm. "Kent said something and now Jack's saying... Kent, be reasonable, man." They watched Kent lift his shirt a little. "Whoa, that's Jack, not me. Whoa, that's not cool..."

Both men on the video looked up, turning from the camera. They could see their driver. "Clear shot," muttered Vivian and she took a still shot.

"Hey, man, like, I know you're out for lunch, but I gotta scrip."

They both paused and stared at the screen. "Holy crap, he's an idiot," Vivian laughed.

"No shit," Rich chortled. "Jack's asking him to come back later, Kent is saying it's fine, he'll wait. The driver is ... Oh man. Rewind, that can't be right." Rich waited while Vivian rewound. "Okay, dude says... Cool, thanks man. My boss's been working me all hours. Are you your own boss? Yeah that's cool."

The driver flashed a wad of bills and pulled out his wallet. "Kent's eyes are on the prize." Vivian made a note.

"Here's my ID... Is that his real one, you think?"

"He's a loser, so probably." Vivian pressed pause again. "I hate this video. Why does he have tape? Who the hell sells tape anymore?"

"Lots of places," said Noelle, scared the shit out of both of them. "Notes." Vivian handed them over and Noelle whistled. "How'd did you get all that?"

When Rich flushed, Vivian gestured at him, "Hanford can read lips, ma'am."

Noelle looked impressed. "Good to have him around. Where are you now?"

Vivian tapped the screen. "That guy is our driver. We think he's handing over his real ID, and he just flashed a wad of cash." Taking the third chair, Noelle nodded and Vivian cleared her throat. The notebook came back and she set herself up again. "Unless anyone can read the ID ...?" Everyone shook their head. Vivian took a screen grab again and then pressed play.

Nervous, Rich glanced at Noelle, but went on with his translations. "Uh... Yeah, that's me. I bought from the shop on Bloor last month, but he said you carry Regal Flyer, and that really does it for me." Noelle made a noise and Vivian held up a finger. If you didn't distract Rich, he did better. "Do you, like, give a discount to regulars? Cause I could be a regular."

The driver on video peeled off way more than the bill was, putting it down on the counter. Jack the dead Clerk looked up at the camera. The driver followed his gaze and said, clear enough that Vivian could read his lips, that Jack should just wipe the tapes. The man was an idiot.

"Look, remember my name, okay, Mark Arana. You be good to me, me and my boys be good to you."

And then it all went to hell. Kent pulled the gun out and jabbed it at Arana, who folded like Chloe on poker night, and all but threw the money. Jack shouted something, Rich couldn't be sure, but then Kent just shot him. There were the gunshots Vivian heard. There was the driver, Arana, grabbing his weed and the money off the ground (about the only smart thing he did) because Kent was staring at the man he'd shot, and running out. And Kent grabbed his head, walking around the counter, cursing... And then he fell over. Dead.

They watched the final scene a few more times. "Does he look more sweaty?" Vivian squinted as she asked. "Like maybe he's coming off a high and needs a fix?"

"That's not how weed works," noted Noelle, but she sounded doubtful.

"What if it's not weed," mused Rich. "I mean, street drugs are laced all the time. What if Jack was lacing things for his friends?"

Noelle clapped them both on the shoulder. "I think that's something to take to the Ds for them to run down, while you find prescriptions and receipts for Kent and Mark. Send the video to the AV geeks for a full review. Good work."

As Noelle left, Vivian dropped her pen and sighed. "What fun," she muttered and ejected the tape.

"Yeah but... we got a murder."

There was Rich, always looking on the asshat bright side. "Yeah, two people died, Rich. That's not a good day for anyone."

It was déjà vu, watching her kid go over the records. Gail smiled as she saw Vivian and Rich with their heads down, going through logs of receipts. That had never been a fun job. As she walked into Traci's office, she jerked her head, "What are they looking for?"

"They got the shooter's first name, and we got the subpoena for the credit card sales, so Peck is going those looking for anyone with a K or Kent as the first name. Hanford's going through the copies of prescriptions and photo IDs."

"Makes you glad to be old sometimes," grinned Gail.

Traci smirked. "Holly said you made growing old sound romantic."

With an evil smirk, Gail pointed out, "I have raised a minion to do the work I hate." They both laughed. "How's Leo? He hasn't come by in weeks."

"He hired a cleaning service for the loft," sighed Traci. "I think he's going to take the job in Texas."

"That doesn't make sense, he can work anywhere."

"Yeah, but it's a startup... I don't know. How did he get so smart? Dex isn't, and I'm not that smart..." She shook her head. Traci was preparing for the inevitable of her child leaving the roost.

Gail sat down in the empty chair. "We both know it's not Steve," she pointed out.

That made Traci frown. "He's still talking about it, huh?"

"So's Noelle. I'm not ready for that." Putting her boots up on Traci's desk, Gail shook her head. "Ollie threw us off."

Traci shoved the booted feet off. "Well that's up to them right now. Why are you slumming it downstairs?"

Gail pulled out her notes. As much as she did everything on the computer, she still liked the old log books. "I need the details on the Carhart case." A multiple murder case that still looked clear homicide, but...

Predictably, Traci sighed. "Best case I've had in years, and my Inspector best friend and sister in law is sniping it. Didn't you make detective after me?"

"Be better than everyone else," sighed Gail, quoting a Peck mantra. "Not taking it, by the way, just need the deets. It might be related to a serial killer TwentySeven had about five years ago."

Traci blinked a few times. "Thank you? Why are you leaving it with me?"

"What kinda question is that?" Gail was confused. "You're the best detective in five divisions, I can't prove it's a serial, and even if I do, you've got the most legwork on the case, so ... Well you may have to work with Swarek, but-"

That made Traci laugh. "Oh I get it," she chortled. "You don't want to work with Sam."

"Nick and Viv already had to." Gail shrugged. "Nick needs to get over it. He won."

Traci gave her an amused look. "How long did it take for you to get over Andy and Nick being a thing?"

Weirdly, not long. "One night with Holly," smiled Gail. Traci made a face and Gail kicked her chair. "Not that, you idiot. Remember when I burnt my wrist? Drain cleaner? Grow op? Dead guy in a barrel?"

"My first big case, sure," smiled Traci.

"Holly picked me up at the hospital. I slept in her guest room. That morning? Kinda over Andy." Because that night, a friend had reached out and stayed with her when she needed it most. And that night, Gail realized she wasn't alone.

With a sigh, Traci leaned back. "You know. That was a big day for a lot of us. Your brother's a massive scene stealer."

"Pecks."

"I'm really glad he and you stopped being so Pecky."

"He loves you," smiled Gail. "You're... What 17 years this summer?"

"Which means yoooou will be 20 next year," laughed Traci. "When are you guys going to have a ceremony?"

Gail snorted. "We did, with a judge. And I believe you and I sang at our ten." That had been fun, she had to admit. "My mom and Lily are planning 20 for us. I'm in actual fear."

"You should be. Our fifteen was crazy." Traci rolled her eyes. "How's the new grill working out?"

After their fifteenth, Gail had loaned the happy couple her cottage for a week. They had, somehow, managed to break the grill by melting cheese all over it. "I love it. Just don't make pizza on it without the stone."

They shared a smirk. "I swear it works like that at home!"

But the time for chit chat was over and they settled in to talk about the case. If it was a serial, Gail might have to take it over, but she hoped to just oversee it from afar. Sniping big cases was, historically, why people didn't like Major Cases. One of the big changes she'd made was not taking the cases but working with them as teams. It had gone over well.

So far, Traci had it all under control, which was good. Gail trusted her, and not just because they were friends. Traci really was one of the best detectives around. She was great at homicide and loved the work.

Speaking of loving her work, Gail had a wife who was a workaholic when left to run free. As she left Traci's office, she sent her wife a quick heart-beat on her watch. It was returned immediately and Gail called her.

"Hello, nurse," she quipped.

"Hello, officer," drawled Holly. "Did you hear what our kid did?"

Gail looked over where Vivian was sitting, still going over records. "Something worth punishing with reviewing records?"

"Yes," laughed Holly. "She and that new kid, Hanford, figured out that the weed was laced."

Poor Hanford's new nickname was two-times, after he puked twice at the autopsy. Thus far, the nickname hadn't spread at the station, but Vivian admitted to having threatened Gerald about it. She was a good kid. "Laced with what?"

"Opiates."

Gail blinked. "He was lacing weed with painkillers?"

"Among other things. The list is surprisingly humane, though. I asked your babies in blue to track it."

"Thus giving our little girl more work, clever. So does that mean you're free for a date tonight, Mrs. Stewart?"

Holly laughed warmly. "I could be, Mrs. Peck. Romantic dinner? Night out?"

"I was thinking more of a night in, if the kid has to work late..."

There was a little silence on the line. "I like that idea." There was a drop in Holly's voice that Gail liked as well. "Let me hand off this to the night shift. We're running all the weed in the whole place, and CSU is going over the lab in the back top to bottom."

"Fun times. Pick me up here, then. Drugs has this one under control."

"Sounds good, love you."

"Love you too, Holly," smiled Gail. She looked over at her kid and, by reflex, reached for her watch to tap her a heartbeat... But the kid wasn't wearing her smart watch. Vivian wore Gail's ten-year watch to work because it was tough, functional, and demure.

Smart kid.

Instead, Gail texted Vivian a quick message.

If you're stuck late, I'll leave you my car. Holly and I are going on a date.

She watched her daughter reach for her phone and read it. A very fast reply was tapped out.

Ew. No details. I'm only halfway done. Please don't defile our couch. Again.

Gail laughed and replied no promises, heading back to the stairs. She always took the stairs these days. It was her faint concession to the fact that she was almost fifty. Health. After her father died of a heart attack and her mother had one, Gail was more heart conscious. She hated it.

It was many hours later when the garage door finally opened and Vivian made it home. Holly was asleep, diagonal across the bed like normal, her cold feet pressed up to Gail's leg, and Gail... Well she was awake. Stupid menopause. When Holly had gone through it, the insomnia was mildly amusing and had them both awake at the same time. Gail was less enamored of it now that she had double insomnia.

The half open door to the bedroom moved and Vivian's brown head popped in. "Go to sleep, Mom," she said softly.

"Would if I could, kiddo," she sighed back. Glancing at Holly, Gail slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe. "I'm hungry. You eat?"

Vivian shook her head and they went downstairs. "Do we have to steam clean the couch?"

"No," laughed Gail, shoving her daughter's arm. They made sandwiches and sat at the kitchen island. "So how was work?"

"I hated it. Spent the whole day looking for names and credit cards."

"And did you find anything?"

"Marc Arana, with a C not a K, is an idiot and since he didn't pay for his weed, the Ds are getting a warrant. Kent's last name is Lyles, and he's been taking weed for migraines for six years. Health care won't cover it anymore, since the doctors say it's not helping."

"His clerk buddy was lacing weed with heavy duty opiates. Betcha that helped his headache," smirked Gail.

Vivian laughed. "Yikes. Mom know how he died yet?"

"They ran the blood work, but she didn't have the results when she picked me up."

"Tomorrow, maybe," sighed Vivian. She yawned. "How can you function on such little sleep, Mom? I'm beat."

"You also run a 5k every morning, you sport-o freak," smirked Gail, fondly. "Sue said you went running with ETF on Monday."

With a shrug that reminded Gail of herself, Vivian finished her food. "Just because you and Mom can't keep up with me anymore."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Brat. Why did you start doing all that?" When Vivian flushed, the memory clicked. Vivian had started all the running when she and Liv had broken up. And Liv was back in town. "Oh, right."

"I think she wants to hook up," grumbled Vivian. "She kept asking if I was single?"

"Maybe she just wants to know how you're really doing," Gail suggested. Then she asked, "How are you really doing?"

"In general? Okay. I like being a cop, Mom."

With a laugh, Gail shook her head. "I gave up on that the day you graduated. You're good, just remember you gotta walk before you can run. Okay?"

Her daughter smiled. "I know. I'm a rookie. I don't get to follow cases, I don't get to see how it all connects. I have to do the grunt work, collect pieces, follow orders, don't screw up."

Gail ruffled her hair. "It sucks."

"It doesn't," admitted Vivian, sheepishly. "There's a lot going on at once. How the hell do you keep it all straight in your head?"

"Lots of practice. Don't worry, after a few years, you'll be good at it too."

Vivian nodded, thoughtfully, and picked up the plates. "If you were me, would you... Would you hook up with Liv while she's in town?"

Ouch. "At your age? Probably. At my age, I think you'll just end up with heartache."

"That sounded like the voice of experience," mused Vivian.

"That it is," Gail confirmed. "If you can do it without getting your heart stomped on or getting in too deep, hey, have sex. It's fun."

Vivian laughed softly. "I don't think I can do that," she admitted.

"So be friends." Gail smiled at her kid. "What happened to that cute computer girl you went out with when you were in the academy?"

The rookie blinked. "Oh. She wanted an open relationship, after we went out like twice. Which no."

Gail made a face. "You have your mom's luck in women." She stood up and slung an arm over Vivian's shoulders. "I trust you to know yourself, kiddo. Do what's right for you."

"Way to set a high bar, Mom," groaned Vivian.

Exhaustion hangovers were worse than alcohol ones, Vivian decided. Making it worse, she'd promised to do sprints at the park with the ETF guys, which meant they would never let her live it down if she didn't show up.

But there was an angel in her life. A cup of coffee was handed to her as she and Rich walked into the lab with McNally. "Oh my god, LaFaire. I love you," she announced, sucking down half.

"A little birdie picked some up and said to please treat you."

Vivian closed her eyes and sighed. "I love her too."

McNally snorted. "You are just like your mother."

"Thanks, McNally," smiled Vivian. "I work hard at it."

Rich narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell is your mom anyway?"

Both McNally and LaFaire laughed, but neither explained. "Someone who loves me very much, Richie."

Leading them into the lab, LaFaire explained why they were there. "So, you guys spotted Lyles' sweats on the video? Turns out that the store was lacing weed for special customers."

"With opiates, right?" Vivian realized, as soon as she said it, that the caffeine was rushing through her. Clearly Holly got her a triple shot. She mumbled a sorry and pressed her lips tight as McNally glared.

LaFaire smiled, though. "Fentanyl, too." And he rattled off a list of side effects. "Lyles was addicted. And he had bone cancer."

Bone cancer? Vivian blinked. McNally whistled. "So he was getting marijuana for headaches and he had cancer? Why did his insurance cancel his script?"

"That's for you guys. The cancer wasn't on his record."

With a glance at McNally, Vivian pulled out her logbook and started taking notes. The batches of pain killers were prescription quality and the lab had a match to the legit scripts provided to various pharmacies. Which meant more work for the two grunts. Track down the pharmacies. Try to make some connections, or give the Ds enough to make connections.

When they got back to the station, Vivian was unsurprised that they were back on computers. She, who was better with them thanks to years of lessons from Uncle Dov and crew, had the job of narrowing search queries and sorting results. Parse the data. Meanwhile, Rich went over more receipts, sorting out who got what brand in an effort to figure out what strains of weed got laced.

"Peck, can you box?" That was Lara.

"I'm a runner, not a boxer." Vivian pressed the heels of her palms to her eye sockets. "Rich, please tell me you have something?"

"Our dealer is an idiot who puts the same mark on receipts for laced pot."

Vivian took one hand off and stared at him. "Are you kidding me?" But Rich held up a paper with a smiling rainbow on it. And then another. "Are criminals all stupid?" All these years, she thought Gail had exaggerated.

"Do they know what the guy died of?" Lara leaned over to look at the papers.

"Cardiac arrest. He was hooked on Fentanyl," sighed Vivian. "Near as we can figure out, Jack fed it to him to help ease the pain for a little extra cash. Kent got hooked. Ran out of cash, lost his coverage since he was lying about the headaches, tried to rob Jack... Stress of shooting his friend gave him a heart attack. Boom. Dead."

Lara stared at her. "Rich, she's more chatty about cases, isn't she?"

He nodded. "Can't figure out why her mom sent her coffee to the lab, but case theory? She's practically normal."

"Just for that, I'm not helping you find a boxer."

Pouting, Lara sat down. "But its for Fite Nite. Fifteen hasn't won for years!"

"Over twenty," sighed Vivian. Not since Nick lost. It was a record Fifteen was ashamed of.

"Seriously, Peck." Lara looked desperate. "Hanford..."

Rich shook his head. "I'm a gun guy."

Lara groaned. "I am screwed."

"Why don't you fight?" Vivian picked up her water.

"The sergeant said I sucked."

Vivian smiled. "Well. You're in luck."

Frowning, Rich looked confused. "Because Jenny-"

"God, no." Both Vivian and Lara laughed. "Christian actually was on the boxing team in school."

Lara brightened. "Seriously?"

"Truth." Vivian closed her eyes. "Rich, is all that in the database yet?"

"Yeah, I've been entering it as I go. Why?"

"I'm gonna cross reference." Sitting up, Vivian tapped into the computer. "Match the lace marked receipts to the buyers. Check the brands they bought to the batches. It'd be a waste to lace multiple batches, right, so you gotta make sure everyone gets the same scrips. Means the docs are in on it. Then we dump that on the Ds and get rewarded."

Rich laughed. "Yeah? What reward do we get?"

"Another job."

"Is it a Peck thing to make my lab cry?" Holly glowered at her daughter, who froze while she held her fork up to her mouth. "Because you and your cross checking laced weed meant they had to re-run a tonne of tests to find the right batch."

Vivian's hazel eyes sharpened. "I was right?"

God, she was just like Gail sometimes. "I really hoped that summer you spent in the lab would have given you more respect for the work they do."

Chagrined, Vivian ate her salad. "You know I do, Mom."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," admonished Holly. "Where is your mother?"

"She complained I gave her more work, too, and went back to the Division. I made skirt steak salad. With avocado and the raspberry vinaigrette."

Holly eyed the food. "You are an very good child, Vivian."

"God knows how." With a smile, Vivian pointed out, "I was raised by wolves."

"Lesbians. Same thing." Her daughter was a good cook, though. Holly made a plate and joined her at the couch where the news was on. "You are very strange, you know."

"What's wrong with liking the news?"

"As an adult? Nothing. At six, it was weird."

"Why be normal?" Vivian smiled. "So besides me pissing off your lab, anything cool happen?"

"Nothing on your cases. Lisa and Kate finally bought a condo together." Lisa had been all but living at Kate's for almost ten years, but refused to sell her own townhouse. "They picked the one with the lake view."

"Sounds perfect. Can we throw them a party?"

"You don't mind handing out with a bunch of old people?"

Vivian looked weirdly serious. "Mom, you're not old."

Holly's 57th birthday had come and gone with moderate fanfare. But she was older. "Yes, I am, honey, and it's okay. Every day I'm older is a day closer to spending most of my life with you and your mom than without."

"That sounds like something Mom would say to be weirdly romantic." Vivian smiled though. "I remember when I was twelve and realized I'd lived with you guys half my life. It's kinda cool."

"That's a little different when you're twelve," laughed Holly. "I met your mom at 35."

Looking up at the ceiling, Vivian mused, "70 is ... Okay, 70 will be old." Holly laughed and kicked her daughter's leg. "Seriously, though," she giggled. "That's like 13 years away, Mom. I'll have my ten years by then. And you can still be a medical examiner."

Her daughter did have amusing trains of thought. "No, I'm going to retire by 70. Take up gardening. Stay home and relax. Drive Gail nuts."

"Won't take long," smiled Vivian. "Maybe learn to cook?"

"You can shut up," laughed Holly.

Vivian grinned. "Hey, serious question."

"Is it about Liv?"

The joking mood with her child wavered. "No," she muttered. "Christian." Holly's eyebrows lifted. "He's boxing. Nick offered to teach him, but ..."

"But Nick got his ass handed to him... Why didn't I see that happen?"

"That was the night of the Penny Incident."

Oh. Holly sighed. "See and now I'm old. How do you know that?"

Vivian put her plate on the coffee table and stretched her arms up. "I remember all the stories, Mom. Like when Mom stopped a radio with her face, or you got knocked out by Sam... Or making out at weddings." She shrugged. "You guys are important."

She looked at her daughter thoughtfully. That Vivian memorized all the important moments from before she'd lived with them was both a move to make sure she belonged with them, but it crowded out the other memories. The therapist had warned them about that years ago. Vivian probably had a slew of repressed memories.

"You're important to us too, honey," said Holly softly.

"I know, Mom." Vivian tilted her head, looking very much like Holly knew she did sometimes. "So boxing? Because I love you, but I don't wanna talk about Liv or you thinking you're old, if that's okay."

Avoidance was okay sometimes. Holly smiled. "Let me think about it? I haven't done that for years."

"But you did, right?"

"I did... How did you know? Your mom doesn't even know." Her father had taught her to box for self defense, shortly after she'd been found out to be a lesbian.

"Grandpa told me," grinned Vivian. "I asked him to tell me all about you." And Vivian memorized everything about them.

Of course, leave it to her father to actually tell the kid about the boxing. "Did he also tell you I had a motorcycle?"

Vivian grinned. "He did."

They chatted for a while about the idea of Holly helping them train for the boxing match, and then turned on a basketball game. Holly and her mother had, for years, teamed up for a football pool. When Vivian turned fourteen, she asked if she could play too, and now three generations did football, soccer, hockey, baseball, and basketball pools.

By the time Gail got home, they had gotten deep into adjusting their teams for the next round, and missed the fact that Gail was actually home until the blonde demanded Holly close the laptop. "I know you guys are total sporto freaks, but it's eleven, and we have a deal."

It was a simple deal. Gail didn't bring up work at the table, Holly didn't bring up sports, and unless it was a major case or the playoffs, ten PM started do-not-disturb hours on both those subjects. Smiling, Holly hit save and closed the laptop. "We'll finish it in the morning, Viv. Did you eat, honey?"

"There's more steak and salad in the fridge," Vivian noted, tucking her tablet aside.

"Fetch me food, child. It's your fault I was at work late." Gail dropped onto the couch beside Holly and her head hit the back of the couch. She looked beat.

Vivian shook her head and got up. "I get to hear behind the scenes drama?"

"In the morning," promised Gail. "I'd go right to bed if I could."

Running her fingers through Gail's bangs, Holly smiled. "Poor baby," she said softly. Gail simply could not go to bed un-fed. It always ended with her in the grumpiest mood ever, and the proud possessor a raging headache.

"Seriously, Holly. Eat. Shower. Sleep. No talk."

Holly didn't attempt to converse with her wife in that mood. She'd probably been talking to suspects all day, or worse, politicos. True to her word, Gail inhaled the food, went upstairs, showered, and was out in moments. In the morning, Gail was a little more chatty, but she was also in a rush. She took the time to inform Holly she loved her before hustling the kid out the door for early rollout.

When Holly rolled in to her own office, she pulled up the lab results on the dead body, Kent Lyles, and the weed from the shop. The Fentanyl was more interesting, frankly. Ever since her own experience in isolation and then Gail's subsequent drug smuggling/laundering case, Holly had gained a sort of expertise about the matter. So she read the Mass. Spec. results and let them bake in her brain.

Sadly, the best she could do was isolate the brands and sources of the lacing items. The rest was going to be the work that the detectives did. All Holly hoped was that they wouldn't ask for a different test. Her lab was always backed up.

Except... She stared at the results from Lyles and tapped in the combinations to her computer and ran up every similar death. One name jumped out at her. Holly pressed Gail's number on her phone and, as soon as her wife answered with a cranky, and distracted, Peck, launched into her question. "Tell me the story about Andy's first case with Sam again? I think I have an idea..."

"Anton Hill was Swarek's white whale," explained McNally as she spoke to the rookies.

Jenny's hand went up. "White whale?"

"It's a Moby Dick reference," muttered Vivian, taking notes. She could feel Jenny glowering and heard a muttered snide remark about the college girl. Whatever. "Was ma'am?" Vivian glanced up at McNally, curiously.

McNally cleared her throat. "Anton Hill ran one of the biggest drug gangs in Toronto. We've wanted him for years, never got enough on him, he dropped dead of heart attack last year."

That was something Vivian remembered. She'd been old enough to go to the Penny as more than the designated driver, drank with the adults, and ended up with the worst hangover of her young life. Of all people to show up at the Penny though, was Sam Swarek.

Raising her hand, again, Jenny asked, "What does that have to do with our cases?"

There was a pause and Vivian glanced up to see McNally eyeing her. "Peck?"

"Hill's death left a power vacuum," she said. That was obvious, but it bought her some time to think. Why would that get brought up now? Either his gang was the one they were watching for that deal or ... Heart attack. "He died of a Fentanyl overdose?" She knew she shouldn't ask it as a question, but it was ludicrous.

The TO smiled at her. "The tox report from Dr. Stewart confirmed it was the same lab, even. And he had traces of marijuana in his system." Vivian grinned. Go Mom. "Hill did not control the Prancing Unicorn, as it happens."

The room went silent. Finally Lara asked, "Unicorn?"

"Prancing Unicorn is the name of the shop," Rich replied. "Why was he using a ... Was it a rival shop?"

"It was, but he didn't know it." McNally tapped the photo of the dead owner, Jack Mancuso. "Lara, what did the former Mrs. Mancuso say?"

Flipping back her notes, Lara cleared her throat. "She divorced her husband because he was working on special deals with doctors. Kickbacks. He'd been the people guy, she was the tech. She didn't want to turn him in, said she still loved him, but she couldn't stay with him."

"That sounds like the plot to a movie," whispered Christian and Vivian grinned.

McNally eyed them. "Something to share with the class?"

"Does she inherit everything?" Vivian put on her best innocent look.

It was clear McNally didn't buy it, but she let it go. "She does. And yes, she knew Lyles. Not Hill though. What are you thinking?"

"Maybe she set Lyles up? Got him the gun?" Vivian knew she was grasping at straws.

McNally shook her head. "No, she claims she hasn't seen or talked any of them in months. She's been visiting family back in New Brunswick. How's your French?"

Vivian winced. "I can hold up a conversation," she muttered, dropping her hand back to her notes.

"To answer your question, Hanford, Hill didn't want his guys to know he had cancer." All the rookies quieted. "Detective Price?"

Chloe, in a grey suit, sans jacket, walked to the front. "Rainbow Happiness, medical marijuana shop on Bloor, sister shop to Unicorn. Sound familiar?"

It did to Vivian, who leaned past Christian to eye Rich. He said nothing and looked perplexed. "Marc Arana. He said his usual shop was on Bloor," Vivian said firmly.

"Good," smiled Chloe. "That one has been hit up by Hills old gang. Arana was a driver for Hill, used to take his kid to school."

Under her breath, Vivian told Christian, "Explains the anxiety." Then she raised a hand. "What happened to the kid?"

Andy replied. "Daughter. Went into the wind at ten. She's been a lost soul for years."

Ignoring all that, Chloe went on. "He also asked for the strain Mancuso laced. Obviously Arana's not the brain behind the drop you guys were watching, but he is still a driver. And he needs weed. And if he's Hill's old crew, they know most of us. But they don't know our rookies."

Oh man. Undercover? Already? "You won't be undercover," McNally said firmly, bursting that bubble. "You will be you. You will be in uniform. You will be fresh faced and earnest and you will be scaring him."

It must not have been just Vivian who was confused, because Chloe smiled gently. "There's a certain kind of terror that comes from the greenest greens looking for someone. Also by using our obvious rookies, it means we're not worried about him. Play on his insecurities."

McNally nodded. "Volk, Peck. You two will take the ones by UoT. Fuller and Aronson will take the ones on Church and Wellsley. Hanford, you'll be here with me working some tapes. Suit up."

As everyone got up, Vivian asked, "Are we working with TwentySeven on this one?" After all, McNally had mentioned Swarek and that was his world.

Chloe cleared her throat. "Hills gang has been in the midst of a take over by an older group. Three Rivers." Vivian's inhaled and tried not to react too much. "So as much as Swarek and TwentySeven wants to be all over this, it's in Fifteen. Don't screw up."

Part of why she liked having an office was because the office had the only access to what was left of her rooftop smokers retreat. Eight years ago, they'd expanded Fifteen and the rooftop was reduced in size to make more space for detectives, most of whom had been punted off of the first floor that needed a larger Sally Port and garage. The old comfort room was flipped to a conference room and after some last second negotiations, Gail had an office plunked where the door was.

It made for a cold office in winter, but she liked it, and if she craned her neck right, she could see Holly's office.

In summer, though, she often just went outside for the fresh air and thinking space. John leaned on the railing while Gail lounged on the bench. "Anton fucking Hill," she mused.

"How are you keeping TwentySeven out of it?"

"They're running the pharmaceutical angle. I pointed out that Sam's basically the poster boy for 'cops' for the Hill gang and the only one the Rivers might recognize is Steve."

John nodded. "Where are the rooks off to?"

"Pot shops. Chloe wants to flush him out by scaring the crap out of him."

Her former partner laughed. "Well he has the brain of a gnat."

It was true. "She wanted 'em undercover, but they're too green. Maybe by October they could do a hooker sting."

"Oh man, I hated that." John leaned forward. "Who was the boy bait in your class?"

"Chris," she smiled. "McNally was so bad at it. I bet she still can't even talk about sex."

The older man was quiet. "Your kid makes me feel old, Gail."

"You say that every year, John."

"I'm serious. After she's cut loose..." He glanced back. "I dunno. What else will I do?"

Gail had expected to lose him after his mother died. She hadn't yet. "So long as you train your successor, I'll find you some sexy older women to hit on," drawled Gail, as if it meant nothing. It didn't. It meant everything. John, like Holly, was a constant in her life. He had her back. He would take a bullet for her. He was still the man she leaned on every day. Yes, she could do it without him. She didn't want to.

"How's your mom? Haven't seen her around."

"Fine. She comes over for dinner on Sundays. You know you're welcome." He didn't answer. "So. If we assume Arana is just a moron, why was he weed shopping? And what the hell was Lyles doing?"

John turned around and rested his arms on the railing. "Either he was shopping for himself, or the pickup with Bobby in the building was a cover for scoping out Unicorn as a new drop."

"Kinda hope it was for himself."

"Ditto." John closed his eyes. "Lyles. Unless we can tie him to anything useful, he's just a guy who Mancuso hooked on drugs and then cut off." He frowned. "I hate drug cases."

Gail stretched out and lay on the bench. "If it wasn't for the stupid lacing, I wouldn't care. But. Guess who has a kid who gets weed for stress?"

Her sergeant started to laugh. "God, remember when our mayor was a crack smoking fat bastard?"

"I liked the gay one," mused Gail. "He was fun. So was the one who broke his nose in the hockey game." The current mayor was boring. Dull as dishwater, a lifetime politico, and apparently he stressed out his kid. "Maybe I should run for mayor when I retire."

John laughed. "You are never retiring, Peck. You're going to work until you're old and cranky... Crankier."

"No," she sighed. "After how my old man died, I'll retire. I want to spend a few years up at the cottage with Holly, just being old and adorable. Watch Viv's kids run around. Die in my sleep on the lakeshore."

The man was quiet. "You've been with her the whole time I've know you," he said quietly. "You make it look easy."

"She means everything to me, John," Gail said sincerely. "Her and that stupid kid who decided to be a cop and a Peck."

John smiled. "I can't believe you didn't see that coming. I knew it as soon as she asked when she could shoot a gun."

That had been when Vivian was eight and Chris had died. She wasn't ever sad or disappointed by the fact that her kid wanted to be a cop. It was just hard for Gail to understand why anyone would. She was a cop because she was a Peck. Vivian was a Peck because she wanted to be a cop. It felt backwards and weird but it was what the kid wanted.

"We should both retire before she goes undercover," decided Gail, and they both laughed.

"Why do you think we didn't get the gay spots? Do you hang out there like all the time?" Lara checked off another shop on their list and eyed the list

"I live near there," Vivian noted. "Next one's this way."

As she walked down the street, Lara asked, "Okay, how do you know that?"

Vivian sighed. "UoT graduate. There's a pipe shop right over here."

In addition to the weed shops, they had to stop in all the pipe and 'lifestyle' stores in the area. It was a college area, there were a lot. So far no one knew who Marc Arana was. Not that Vivian was all that shocked. Stoners stuck together. All small groups did. It was just how they protected themselves.

"Who was the girl at the Penny the other night? The one at the bar?"

"Inspector William's younger daughter, Olivia. We went to school together." Vivian opted for the easiest explanation of it all.

That shut Lara up for a while as they went into the next shop. Three places later, and a cup of good coffee, they had fuck all. "God this is boring," muttered Lara. "Do you really think it'll work?"

Vivian rolled her cup between her hands. "I think Det. Price thinks it might scare him into fucking up."

"That was a no." Lara smiled. She had a brain. "Who are Three Rivers?"

Hesitating, Vivian tossed her cup in a trash can. "They used to be a drug gang around here. About … twenty years ago. Changed to a little more mob-type things, got tripped up and caught and went underground. Then, I guess the last couple years, they popped back up doing drugs."

"And that's the guy you arrested on your first day?"

"One of 'em, yeah." Vivian was still a little embarrassed about it.

After a moment, Lara grinned. "You have a theory."

"I'm a rookie," corrected Vivian. "We don't have theories."

"You're legacy. I know you are." When Vivian must have looked surprised, Lara pointed out, "There are over thirty people named Peck, all active on the force. If you look at the old Chiefs, there're even more. You're the newest."

Vivian sighed. "Me and my cousins... Yeah."

"Which is why all our instructors would look at you when we didn't know the answer. You, Vivian Peck, are royalty."

And that was truth. "Where are you from, Officer Volk," wondered Vivian.

"Toronto, same as you." They smiled at each other. "You need friends, Officer Peck. And I think I am just the girl to help you out."

Friends. She really hadn't made friends since Matty and Christina... Huh. And Christian. Chrissy had moved to Guelph when she was seven, though, and Matty was still in New York (talking about moving back though, since his boyfriend was an opera singer and wanted a gig back home). But making friends was not something she was great at. Both Olivia and Christian were friends forced upon her by circumstances.

In a way, so would Lara.

"Please don't start hitting on me," whinged Vivian. She knew Lara wasn't, and so did Lara, but it broke the tension and they laughed.

Lara grinned. "See, this is why I said you needed to remember the person under the cop. You're funny."

"Oh, I'm a laugh riot," deadpanned Vivian. "Threw a party when my folks were out of town, bored everyone, got caught, didn't get punished."

"Wait, you didn't get punished?"

"Nah, apparently throwing a boring party and having my reputation entirely unchanged was punishment enough."

They reached the last pot shop on their list. "Harsh. I'm taking lead in this one."

"Knock yourself out." Vivian opened the door for Lara, looking around.

Bold and excited, Lara went right up to the desk. "Hi. I've been at this all day, and I'm getting the idea our TOs think this is a joke. Ever had that day?"

The man behind the counter blinked. "Fuck, yeah," he sighed. "My boss?" He turned and looked over his shoulder at the camera. "My boss sticks me with stuff he says is super important but it's bull, y'know?"

Lara nodded and leaned on the counter. "Tell me about it."

"Your partner looks all serious."

"Peck? It's not her fault. She's the latest in a hundred years of policing. I've been informed they come out of a machine like that."

"Oh. Poor kid. Bet she didn't get a choice about the job either." He nodded knowingly. Vivian put on her best 'bored and disinterested' look and wandered around the front of the room, reading the satisfied customer notes. "You guys, you know we're totally legit, right? Above board, under watchful eyes. Only take people who have scrips from good doctors."

While Vivian didn't look over, she turned an ear closer. Good doctors. That implied bad ones. Lara caught it too. "Yeah? Bet you have people trying to scam."

"All the time. But I'm a licensed pharmacist. Don't want to lose that."

Now Vivian spoke up. "A pharmacist?" What had Gail and Steve told her about the Three Rivers guy? The CI who stabbed Steve was a nurse. "And you work here?"

"I like helping people," he said, firmly, clearly asking not to be judged.

She was bad cop, so Vivian scoffed and looked away.

"Don't mind her," assured Lara. "So speaking of scams, this guy's trying to pass bad scrips." She pushed over a paper. The print up.

"They're fake?!"

No fucking way. Vivian looked over, surprised, and met Lara's equally shocked face. "He was here?"

"Yeah, Marc-with-a-C, total tool. Acting like he's all hot and cool and Mr. Sex-In-Jeans." The pharmacist shook his head. "He's due for a pickup this afternoon. What should I do?"

Lara hesitated. "I'll call it in," Vivian said calmly. "What time is his pickup?"

"Five. Last of the day."

"Okay, good." Vivian pulled out her phone and stepped outside. "McNally? You aren't going to believe what Volk found out."

In the end, they stuck one of Chloe's scruffier guys as the new counter clerk. The rookies got to do little more than play lookout in vans, again. But Arana didn't put up a fight. He didn't even argue. Vivian decided he was a patsy, or gangs were stupider than Gail had previously told her.

The good news was Lara and Vivian got to watch the interrogation, by Chloe, at the station. They were the queens of their class at the Penny, explaining the details of what had happened. Lyles had killed Mancuso for getting him addicted and leaving him dry while he was dying. Turns out he was also dying of bone cancer. At the same time, Mancuso was freaked out because he was was trying to get in with Three Rivers.

Their idiot witness, Marc Arana, was with what was left of Anton Hill's crew and was hunting for a new place to push his drugs. He'd known the guys at Rainbow for years and they were freelancing and helping Mancuso and Unicorn step to the dark side of drug selling.

"This is all too confusing," groaned Jenny. "Mancuso was taking lessons from the pot shop Arana went to so he could join Three Rivers?"

"To pay off his divorce settlement. Wife got him for everything, so he tried to launder drug money with drugs." Vivian sipped her beer, trying not to grin.

"And, what?" Rich scowled. "Bad luck that Arana and Lyles happened on the same day?"

Lara nodded. "Guy had nothing but bad luck. He was in debt up the ass and back again. Being sued too."

Vivian carried on the story. "Arana wasn't doing all this on behalf of Hill, though. So he's scared to death. Det. Price has him under her thumb. They've got an in on both sides of the whole Rivers/Hill mashup."

With a big sigh, Christian leaned back. "That sucks, they have a big case and you guys broke it."

"Success is 90% luck and 10% timing, C," remarked Vivian, shaking her head.

Jenny blinked. "Who said that?"

"My grandmother." Vivian picked up her beer only to have Christian jostle her arm. "Dude, beers," she scowled.

But Christian was looking past her. "Dude, Ivs." Ivs. That was what Gail called her and Liv. Vivian turned around and saw Olivia walk in with Noelle. Crap. "Did you call her?"

She shook her head and ignored Rich and Jenny asking why Vivian would call the other woman. Or 'the hottie' as Rich put it. "Shut up, Rich," muttered Vivian, finishing her beer.

"Go," said Christian. And then, like the best wingman ever, he asked Lara, "So. Do you guys get to follow the case at all?"

With a curious look to Vivian, Lara went into the details about how they'd not follow this case any more than the other ones. Vivian watched Liv go up to the bar and followed her. "Hello," she said, pushing for that casualness Gail seemed to exude like breathing.

"Hi," replied Liv, looking nervous. "I'm sorry, my mom..." She gestured over at Noelle.

"It's a cop bar. She's a cop. It happens."

"And you're a cop." Liv looked her up and down. "You look ... Good. I said that the other night, didn't I?"

Vivian smiled. "You're such a dork, Liv."

"Yeah, usually you're the babbler." Olivia laughed softly. "This is where you're supposed to buy me a drink."

"Oh yeah, no. I'm not buying drinks tonight. We trapped a drug dealer."

Liv grinned. "How does that work? Best collar of the week doesn't pay for drinks?"

Nodding, Viv held up two fingers. "That's exactly how it works." She handed Liv one of the beers. "I was going to call."

"Is that a line?"

Vivian looked down. "No. I... I was reminded today that I don't really do friends really well."

Her second oldest friend studied her face. "That was Mom's biggest worry. About us. That we'd screw up friends."

Snorting, Vivian pointed out, "We did."

"Yeah. We did."

Noelle interrupted the moment. "Vivian. Come here and tell me how you got free drinks again this week."

"Again?" Olivia picked up her mother's drink and looked amused.

"I arrested a drug dealer my first day," shrugged Vivian. "I'm kind of a bad ass."

"Oh, I've got to hear this."

It was weird being around Liv. They hadn't broken up well at all. In fact, Holly called it her level of shitty breakups. But they'd been friends for 12 years before they'd tried dating and maybe, just maybe, they could figure out how to be friends again. After all, Gail hated people but even she managed to still be friends with Nick, after two phenomenal breakups.

She glanced back at the rookies and saw Lara regaling them with the story. There was no time like the present.

"So. Which first?" Vivian pulled a chair out with her foot. "The one where I totally lucked out and arrested a guy with drugs in his bag, or the one where I totally lucked out and saw a shooting?"

Liv laughed. "Luck seems to be a predominant factor in your career."

"Says the woman who's greatest achievement comes from forgetting to put away her test tubes," Vivian said drolly.

Turning darker, Olivia snapped at her mother. "Mom! You told?"

Yeah. She could try friends again.

Chapter Text

"Come on, Christian, one two." Vivian held up the pads in position and nodded. He bobbed a little and swung. Left right. "Again." They did it again. "You sure you were into MMA when you were a kid? Cause you suck at this."

"Actually he's looking much better," said Holly with a smile. She'd not been surprised when Vivian asked her to help Christian train. Apparently Nick had offered, but since he was the beginning of the unbroken chain of loss, Vivian said no in her best Peck way. Gail said that meant Vivian had laughed at Nick and walked away.

But that did mean the kids needed help to get fit in the right way. Vivian had started by dragging Christian out running every morning. He was subjected to what Vivian thought of as a normal workout, including the push-ups and sit-ups and everything else that she did on the cross training circuit.

Back when Vivian had been a teenager, she'd struggled to keep up with Holly and Gail on their runs. They'd gone too many miles for the kid, which Gail used as an excuse to go home early. By eighteen, she was running Gail's ass off and got into doing cross training and some weird as shit monkey stuff. Now in her twenties, with Holly kicking 57, Holly couldn't keep up with her kid at all.

She could, however, train them in boxing. "Vivian, how tall is the guy he's fighting?"

"My height. 185 and change. He's fast, too."

"Hold 'em a bit higher and further apart. Christian, don't go soft on her. Viv's tough."

"She outruns my ass every morning," grumbled Christian, but the thwacks were harder. "This isn't what I did in school." He'd been a boxer in high school, as well as a total MMA junkie.

"Yeah, I've seen your record," Vivian replied with a very Peck smirk.

As the kids practiced, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and Holly smiled more. "How are they doing?" Gail's voice was low and soft.

Holly leaned back against Gail, inhaling the smell that surrounded her wife. It was lemony and peppery with a dash of coffee and leather and something so uniquely Gail... God she smelled good. "Not bad," breathed Holly. "You smell good," she added as a whisper.

"Caught my bad guy," purred Gail, settling her head on Holly's shoulder and sliding her hands under the edge of Holly's shirt.

"Ah." Holly grinned. Gail was almost always handsy after a good case. "Viv, every once in a while, swipe at him with a pad. Christian, honey, remember to duck."

They watched the kids swing a few more times before Gail asked, "Does he actually have a chance?"

Holly nodded. "I think so. Vivian, hit him harder." The resultant effect was, the next time Christian didn't duck enough, Vivian's slap with the pad sent him back a step.

"That's my girl," laughed Gail. "Christian, you can stay for dinner."

"Thanks. I think." He rubbed his shoulder and Vivian grinned.

"Hey, you were on the boxing team in high school. You should be better at this," teased Vivian, pointing at him with a pad. "Come on, don't be a baby." She settled back into her stance.

Gail kissed the side of Holly's neck and let go. "I'm going to fire up the grill. Last chance for requests."

From the lawn, Vivian called back, "You have jerk chicken kebabs marinating in the fridge, Mom."

"Pick a side, kid."

"I pick Holly's side! She's cooler."

Gail threw her hands up, eyes laughing. "Screw you, junior. See if I make you eggplant and garlic bread."

Of course they knew Gail was going to do just that. Holly smiled and joined in, "If we have corn, honey, I'd love some." Gail grumbled, kissed Holly, and went to start the grill.

They sat around the table outside, laughing about everyday things. Christian was less awkward than Chris had been, in Holly's a bit fuzzy memories of the man. It was strange, but she saw bits of Chris in the boy who wasn't his son and who wasn't raised by him. Christian had only seen Chris once in a while for the first eight years of his life. And then Chris had died.

When young Christian came to the funeral, Holly remembered Vivian sitting next to him and talking. It was one of the few times Vivian had spontaneously spoken to anyone at that age, and certainly not about her feelings. Holly hadn't eavesdropped, but that night as she tucked in Vivian, she asked how Christian was.

The eight year old had informed her that he was hurt, and scared, and afraid of who he was going to be. And then she said she kinda understood that. Holly had hugged her daughter close and told Vivian she loved her. No matter who Vivian grew up to be, she'd be theirs and they would adore her.

"What's she thinking about?" Christian asked, eyeing Holly and leaning towards Vivian. "She looks all thoughtful."

Vivian leaned in as well. "Probably me as a kid. If it was Gail, she'd have this really adorable smile." She grinned.

"I was thinking I love you, but not if you're going to be all weird about it," smiled Holly.

Beside her, Gail found her hand and squeezed it. "She's always weird, Holly. She came weird."

"You like my weird," Vivian noted, gesturing with her bread. "Good kebabs, Mom."

"See? This is how I get treated at home, Christian," laughed Gail. "Same as always."

Christian looked down. "Thanks," he said softly. "I mean... That... When I was nine."

At nine, Christian had spent two weeks up at the cottage with Vivian, Olivia, and Matty, under the supervision of Gail and Holly. Gail called it hell and claimed the kids gave her a screaming headache. It had been loud and active, but the kids had loved every single minute. They got up early, swam, ran around like maniacs, ate all the food, and slept like the dead.

"That? That was nothing, Christian," waved Gail. "I wish Denise had let us do more."

"The money for college helped."

That had been Oliver's doing. He and Dov had set up a fund in Christian's name shortly after the funeral, and many of the officers donated a few bucks every day. Holly only knew about because she'd come to the division the day Dov cleaned out Chris' desk. While Gail had sat nearby, Dov said it was his job alone. He'd promised Chris that he'd do this, no matter what. That was when Oliver looked at a photo of a kid and a coffee jar, labeled 'Jerry's Kid' and suggested they do the same for Chris' kid.

Gail lifted her beer. "Thank Oliver and Dov. It was their idea."

"I did," he said softly. "It's... I really appreciate being a part of a family for a change."

Well that was sobering. "You're always welcome here," Holly said gently.

Christian insisted on helping with the dishes before leaving, and groaned when Vivian told him she'd see him the next morning for cross-training. With a cheerful good night, Vivian went upstairs to get some sleep and Holly sighed. Gail was still on the porch, relaxing on the swing bench.

Her wife didn't look almost fifty. But there were facts and one of them was that you couldn't stop time from turning. They were both older. The hair was still reddish blonde, having proven more resistant to grey than her brother's true red or her mother's bottle red. Gail had grown it out, cut it back off, dyed it brown and blonde, but the short look was still Holly's favorite. The skin was still pale and firm, the lips still soft, the eyes a bright blue … The eyes were closed. Holly smiled and stepped out onto the deck. "You fall asleep, honey?"

"Nope," said Gail, holding out a hand. Without hesitation, Holly sat next to her wife and slid an arm around her waist. "What's that big brain thinking about?"

"Thinking I'm lucky. Thinking Viv's lucky."

"I'm lucky too, Holly."

Kicking off a little, Holly rocked the swing back and forth. "Remember when we broke this?"

Gail snickered a laugh. "That was so embarrassing." There really wasn't enough room on it for fooling around, and yet they had tried and broken the swing. The crash had been rather loud. "I had that bruise on my ass for weeks." She had also complained about it for weeks.

"Given how colorfully you bruise, I'm not sure that's as big a deal as you're making it out to be."

"We're doing alright," sighed Gail, leaning against Holly comfortably. "I'm happy."

Holly smiled and closed her eyes. "So am I."

Her parents had made it all look so easy, even though it wasn't at all. Her wife's family made it look doomed to failure, or despair, but that wasn't right either. It was hard, it could be a struggle, and sometimes you said things you didn't mean, or felt things you didn't expect. But they did keep going. And they kept being happy.

As Vivian and Nick headed to their cruiser after Parade, they heard a shout that surprised Vivian and made Nick cringe.

"Nickelpeck 2.0!"

Nick actually winced. "I hated that the first time, Dov," he grumbled. Vivian smiled. So had her mother.

"And I hate that I, as Sergeant of Fifteen, have never won a division boxing match." Dov slung his arms around Vivian and her TO. "Give me good news or the nickname rides again."

Of course, Nick finked on her. "She's not letting me coach."

Dov eyed her. "Peckling."

"No. No, you are not Uncle Ollie." She squirmed away and shoved Dov's arm off her shoulders. "Mom's helping."

The two men looked shocked and pointed upstairs. "You got your mom to help? Did Gail have dirt on some golden glove hero?" Dov was flabbergasted.

"No, I got my mom to help. You know, the one who likes sports?"

Enlightenment dawned. "I forgot. She used to play hockey too."

Technically Holly still did play, though far less competitively than she had when Vivian had been younger. A fifty-five year old playing hard-core hockey was a little impressive in Vivian's mind. Holly was still in great shape, as was Gail, which was a little more remarkable given her antipathy to exercise. "We've got in covered," promised Vivian.

"Good," Dov grinned and clapped her shoulder. "Serve and protect, Nickelpeck."

As Dov got out of earshot, and they got to their vehicle for the day, Nick muttered, "Of all the things he had to learn from Oliver, why was it that?"

"Isn't Nickelpeck a band?"

"Nickelback is a band. A really bad band. That was started before you were even born, Jesus... I'm old."

There'd been a lot of that going around lately. "You should call them Peckstein next time they partner up," suggested Vivian, and Nick grinned evilly.

"I like your evil, Little Peck."

Before Vivian could remark that she was taller than her mothers, Nick held out the keys. "Wait, really? I can drive?" She snatched them before he could answer, much to the delight of nearby officers.

Leaning on the roof of his car, Moore laughed. "Better watch out, Nick. She set a record on the driver's course."

"I've been warned," he smiled. "Going to let yours drive?"

Both TOs looked at Lara Volk, practically bouncing. "What do you think, Volk? You ready to drive?" Duncan Moore held the keys up.

Lara looked at Vivian. "Hell yeah," she said. "Can't let SuperPeck have all the fun."

"I like that one better, Collins. Can I keep SuperPeck?"

"No." Nick laughed.

With a shrug, Duncan tossed the keys over. "Don't leave the keys inside," cautioned Vivian, smirking. "I heard some rookie in McNally's class did that and got the cruiser stolen." Oliver had told her that story about Dov many times.

The reminder caused Nick to almost choke on his coffee as he got into the passenger seat. "Watch it, Peck. We're the ones in 1504," he warned, smiling. 1504 was cursed. Everyone knew it.

"I took the cursed radio, oughta balance out," noted Vivian, getting in and buckling up.

Driving on patrol turned out to be a hell of a lot harder than Vivian had thought. No small wonder Gail was so damn good at doing a million things at once. You had to listen to your partner, keep an eye on everything, know where you were going, where you'd been, where you were, how fast you were going, and do the mapping and mathing to get you to the next place asap.

By lunch, Vivian had a headache.

"Giving up?" Nick smiled as he caught Vivian pushing the heel of her palm above an eye.

"Not on your life," she snapped. In her head, it sounded like Gail. Based on Nick's face, she must have. "I can do this."

Nick shook his head. "Okay, but eat your sandwich." She picked up the sandwich, picked by Nick, and eyed it. Tomatoes. Habit drove her to pluck them off. "Seriously? You don't eat tomatoes?"

"No one eats tomatoes at home," shrugged Vivian. She didn't mind them, but once, just once, she had a salad with them and had kissed Gail's cheek. That was when Vivian really understood how allergic her mother was.

The man who was once engaged to her spunky, spitfire mother looked thoughtful. "Holly stopped eating tomatoes at home before they even started dating." He leaned back against their cruiser.

Vivian cleared her throat. "You know I know, right?"

"Know what?"

"Vegas."

He looked surprised. "I didn't." Nick took a long sip from his soda. "Does it bother you?"

"Only that it means Mom wasn't kidding when she said Fifteen is a soap opera." Vivian took a big bite of the sandwich. "I'm not dating a cop."

Nick laughed. "You say that now, but oh man. Besides, you already dated your boss' daughter."

"Okay, we do not have that level intimacy in our relationship, Collins," she said dryly. Then Vivian laughed and threw her napkin at him.

He laughed back, but any reply was lost when their radio crackled to life. "We have reports of an armed 10-41 in a food truck." Dispatch read off the address and that 1509, Lara and Duncan's cruiser, was on site and needed backup.

Hoping off the hood of the cruiser, Vivian tossed the rest of her food while Nick replied. "Dispatch, 1504. 10-4, we're five minutes out, tops."

"1504, Dispatch, copy that, recording you as en route."

"Go time, Peck," said Nick as he buckled in.

Vivian tried to keep the smile off her face as she sped through the streets, siren on. This was part of the job she knew Gail loved. That moment of power and control. It was easier to stay calm when driving to a scene if only because she didn't have the spare brain power to flip out over the idea of an armed subject. The worse and more terrifying things got, the calmer Vivian felt. Paradox?

They pulled up at the store in question, parking to block the food truck, and radioed in. Within the store, they heard Duncan. "Hear that? Jonas, that's my backup. Now it's going to get messy, so put the gun down, okay?"

There was no one around besides the truck and their cars. Where were the cooks? Didn't food trucks have three people? Vivian tried to remember... Saturdays she and her moms went for walks and Holly always tried to find a new place to eat. It was often a food truck since they frequented the park where they all went running. The best were the Latin ones, in Vivian's opinion, and they were always understanding when Gail's allergy came up.

Nick waved for her to go to the front of the truck and made a sign for keys. Vivian nodded, gun drawn, and slowly crept along the back, keeping out of sight. She opened the door as quietly as possible, listening to Duncan and 'Jonas.' The engine was off, so she eased the keys off the seat and nearly pissed herself. There was a person, hiding in the cab, crammed in between the passenger seat and the dash.

"Sir, you've got to get out," she hissed. "We're here to help you."

The damned thing was she couldn't radio. Andy had her on band, she and Nick didn't have a secondary that she remembered. God, Vivian hoped she hadn't just forgotten.

The man stared at her blankly, not replying. "Sir, I'm the police. Just open the door and get out."

He shook his head and lifted a hand in frustration.

Wait... He was looking at her face intently. And the motion was something she recognized.

Vivian shoved the keys in her thigh pocket and signed, very carefully. Do you understand?

His eyes widened and he nodded. Then he signed back that he was stuck. She nodded, told him to stay there, and stepped back. Could she see Nick? Yes! She waved to catch his attention and pointed to the cab of the truck, giving him the stupid army sign for 'someone's in here.'

Nick's face went flat and he flashed a thumbs up, giving her two numbers and tapping his radio.

Fuck, those numbers better be new. Vivian switched channels and spoke as quietly and clearly as she could. "4727, there's a witness stuck in the cab of the food truck. He's deaf."

"Copy that, 4727." The voice was someone she knew... Sherri? No. Tassie. The new one. It really didn't matter, though. "Can you get him out?"

"Negative. Passenger side is in view for the suspect."

"Roger. Can you-" Tassie paused. "Communicate to the wit to stay still and we'll get him out as soon as we can."

"Copy that," confirmed Vivian. Someone had probably told Tassie that she knew sign language. Creeping back to the door, Vivian relayed that information to the witness who liked like anyone who thought he was getting out of there was an idiot.

The truck rocked a little and Vivian glanced back at Nick. He wanted her to stay there. Then Duncan screamed and all hell broke loose.

As Gail was packing up for the day, John walked in. "Check it out, deep fried dollars!"

She looked up to see him holding up his phone. Squinting at the photo, she sighed and put her reading glasses on. Gail hated getting old. "Someone put money in a … deep fat fryer?"

"Spilled would be more accurate," admitted John, clearly amused. "Also threw hot oil at Gerald."

It was uncharitable, but Gail smiled. "Not badly?" When John shook his head, she shoved her laptop in her bag. "Good. Anything I need to do about the case today?" Her sergeant hesitated. "Give it up, John."

"Well. Your kid was there."

"That doesn't mean I need to do anything, Simmons," she pointed out. In fact, it meant she should try to do as little as possible. "She okay?"

"Oh yeah, she's downstairs translating." Gail must have looked as confused as she felt, because John added, "Sign language. Guy tried to rob a food truck. Apparently the owner had pulled over to take a piss, robber saw the opportunity and knocked him out. The cook, he's the deaf guy, texted 911 and hid in the passenger seat."

Gail grinned. "Nice. And the robber?"

Flipping open his notes, John frowned. "The other rookie, Volk? She tackled him right out of the van after he burnt Gerald."

Tackled. Interesting choice of words. "Well. Good for Volk, but that sounds pretty reckless." She tapped on her watch, texting Vivian to ask if she was staying late or wanted a ride. There was no reply right away. Not surprising.

"I seem to recall a story about a certain blonde flinging a perp out of a an ambulance," noted John, amused. Gail flipped him off. "Go home. I'll follow up on this and let you know if anything needs your attention, but I doubt it."

"Don't work too late. And when do I get to met the new girl?" After years of what Holly had called 'serial monogamy' where he'd break up as soon as it got near the subject of moving in together, John had met a woman and gotten suddenly quiet about it. Gail had a feeling that meant it was a little serious.

John scratched his nose. "Later." He looked back at his notebook, closed it, and frowned. "We don't have a date tonight," he added.

Awkward John was always fun, so Gail half teased him, "How about you tell me her name for starters."

"Janet Mehta." And he held his phone out again.

Gail blinked. "Hey, I was kidding, John."

He shrugged. "I know, but ... You're a friend, Gail."

He shook the phone and she took it, looking at a shortish Indian woman. She was dressed in jeans and a tank-top, laughing at something off camera. Not Gail's type (being neither a nerdy librarian nor Holly), but she was attractive. The name of Mehta meant she might be of Punjabi descent. And Gail wondered if John remembered that happened to be one of the languages Gail spoke.

She opted not to point that out. "Where'd you meet her?"

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"Of all the gifts the universe gave me, John, that was not one," warned Gail. He knew it, but he was still asking. This was about to be embarrassing.

John took his phone back. "We met on a dating website."

Oh. Oh that was going to be worth teasing him about much later. She smiled and tamped it down, lest she scare him off. "At least tell me it's not ," Gail laughed softly. "Seriously, as someone who met her wife at a crime scene, I'm not judging."

And that was the truth. Tease yes, judge no. She and John chatted about that for a while, about meeting people and how hard it was, until Gail got a text from Vivian, saying she'd take the ride if it was still available. Extorting a promise from John to get to meet Janet before summer was over, Gail went down to her car and met up with her kid.

"Thanks for sticking around." Vivian tossed her bag in the back and changed her watch to her smart watch.

"I heard you got a gunman," smiled Gail as she buckled up. The car started with the press of a button, which was still novel after twenty years. She liked the new Ford Detective Package. For years she'd been a firm Chevy girl, but when Gail saw the new Ford, she'd been hella impressed.

Vivian smirked, stretching her legs out in the passenger seat. "I saw Sgt. Simmons. You like the deep fried dollars?"

Yeah, that was her kid alright. "Gave me ideas for dinner. So. Gunman?"

"Lara took him down." Vivian detailed the story, how she'd found the man hiding in the cab of the truck. He'd ducked down to find a lost pen while his partner took a whizz. The rocking in the back of the truck had confused him, so he slid the window to peek in back and realized they were being robbed. The 911 text was how Duncan and Lara ended up there. When Duncan realized the man was armed, they radioed for backup.

The drama with the hot oil was less drama than it had sounded. The robber had struggled with Duncan over the bag of money meant for the bank. In the struggle, the bag was ripped open and the robber fell back, slapping the fryer's handle, splashing Duncan. Much to Gail's relief, Vivian both called Duncan by his proper name (Gerald) and said he was only burnt a little on the arm.

According to Vivian, Lara would probably win the awesome case of the week award. That was something new to Gail, and her daughter explained that Jenny kept track of everyone's work and awarded points for arrests and busts and all those things. Vivian had won a handful of times, all the while insisting she wasn't playing at all.

They got home to an empty house and no sign of Holly. That wasn't unusual. Vivian ran up to start a load and wash her uniform. While a lot of cops took theirs to the dry cleaner, Pecks knew how to wash at home. Because you couldn't rely on others. Gail sighed. It was a terrible reason to know some of those tricks. She pulled out her phone and texted.

Hey wife, you planning on coming home?

The answer was eyebrow lifting.

As soon as the Mounties call me back.

Why would the Mounties be bothering her wife? Instead of asking, Gail started making dinner, including tempura vegetables and fish. The tempura would be fried to satiate her craving but not too oily to incur the wrath of Holly and her diet. Making sure to pick the foods Holly liked best, Gail relaxed into the zen of cooking.

It had done more for her moods than yoga, the cooking had. She still did the yoga regularly, even the crazy sauna yoga with Lisa and Rachel, but the cooking was a nice, every day relaxation. Her family knew it and didn't mess with her when she was zoned out cooking.

That also meant that when Vivian joined her at the prep work, her quiet kid needed a mom a little bit. "Where's Mom?"

"Working late."

"Sucks."

Gail smiled. "It does." She leaned into Vivian's shoulder. "What's up?" Her kid shook her head and washed the rice. "Was it the deaf guy?" Another head shake. "Gerald? He always makes me feel like the planet is doomed."

There was the faintest nod from Vivian. Unlike Gail, who took the world head on and dared it to fuck with her, Vivian sat back and watched. Unlike Holly, who watched and unraveled the mysteries in her mind and proudly presented them to the world, Vivian kept her thoughts to herself. Gail had wondered for a while what kind of cop she'd be. Methodical, patient, smart. She wasn't like any of them. Vivian was not the kind of cop the Pecks had beaten into Gail's head. Maybe Gail would ask her mother if Oliver was like that when he was a rookie. He was so sociable, though...

Why was it so hard to know what to do with your own kid? She was a kid, right? She was Gail and Holly's kid, whom they'd raised for eighteen years. And, yes, they still had doubts about how much those first six would sit on Vivian, they knew they loved her unconditionally. Vivian was a great person. She handled stress and drama, when it wasn't romance related, rather well. She was caring and thoughtful.

Really, Gail's doubts were still that her daughter's soft heart would eat her alive at the job. The agony that kids like Sophie and Alexiane had ripped out of her and Holly was something Vivian would face every day. And Viv's heart itself may still be in agony from her own childhood. It was just unknown.

Finally Vivian spoke up. "It's scarier when it's not you. When you have to be in charge for someone else. Everything happens so fast." Vivian didn't look up, she just busied herself with the food. "And driving is hard."

"It is," agreed Gail.

"You made it look easy."

Gail snorted. "Kiddo, I have been a cop for your whole life. It's easy because I do it ever day."

"Remember the car accident?" Vivian glanced over. "On the way up to the cottage?"

That had been a long time ago. "The hit and run? The guy in those stupid shorts and the bicycle that cost more than your first car?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Don't be a dork, Mom. That's still my car."

"I remember," smiled Gail. "What about it?"

The rice maker clicked on. "You remembered everything. The license plate, the car make and model, what the driver looked like, how fast everyone was going. It was ... Cool. And daunting."

Cool? She was cool? "I'm a cop, Viv. I'm supposed to remember all that stuff."

"I can't," Vivian said softly, looking at her hands.

"Not yet," assured Gail. "But one day you will." Vivian looked doubtful. "What? You think I could do all this from birth? Elaine spent many a night quizzing me if I wanted dessert."

Those had not been the fun days of her youth. Gail recalled missing out of Steve's birthday cake one year because she couldn't remember what shirts all his friends wore.

Taking that thoughtfully, Vivian pulled out the mesh scoop for the frying. It was relatively normal for things with her daughter. Gail reacted first and Holly dissected, both usually verbally and noticeably. Vivian thought and didn't share. So it wasn't weird for her to take a revelation like that and process it first.

They still hadn't moved back on to conversation when the garage sounded and Holly came in.

"You both suck," grumbled Holly, heading right upstairs.

Vivian looked surprised. "What did we do?"

The voice of long experience, Gail sighed. "We'll find out in a moment." She dug her phone out of her pocket and tabbed through her work messages. Nothing had buzzed her as high priority which, if this was related to the Mounties, it should have... As she looked at the phone, it rang. The superintendent (aka her boss). "I need to take this, can you...?"

Her daughter nodded and Gail listened to her boss detailed exactly what was going on. It was certainly not what she'd expected. The case was convoluted, but only the Mounties really handled those cases. Gail, being the lead for OC in the Division, was expected to be their intermediary. It didn't hurt that she had a good relationship with the Mounties after all.

"Damn it, Gerald," muttered Gail as she hung up.

"Oh good," sighed Holly, tying her damp hair back in a ponytail. "Because just one of us working a case is too simple."

Gail shoved her phone in her pocket. "Oh, it gets better. I need some cannon fodder to go out for this one."

They both turned to look at Vivian, who had a tempura bean in her mouth. "What?"

Sitting in the third row, beside Christian, Vivian grinned broadly. On their run that morning she'd told him to be ready for an awesome case come the morning. She told him nothing more, so when they walked into Parade and saw Gail, John, and Dov talking to a decked out Mountie, he punched her arm. Then they took their seats quickly before anyone asked what they were doing.

Lara squeezed in on Vivian's other side. "That's Major Crimes," she hissed at Vivian, excited. "My case! I got to talk to them today!"

Leaning around, Christian asked, "Who?"

"The Mountie and the hot guy. He's a total silver fox."

"Sgt. John Simmons," muttered Vivian, trying not to gag at the thought of her mother's partner as a hottie. The Mountie on the other hand was sexy as hell. Once she'd seen the photos of Gail undercover in a Mountie uniform, and Holly's overt feelings on the outfit were clear. At the time, Vivian hadn't really understood and just thought her moms were a little gross. Now she got it. Women in uniform were sexy.

At the front, Dov cleaned his throat. "Okay, settle down." The room fell quiet. "Yesterday, Officers Moore and Volk caught a food truck robber. I'm happy to say that the Hearing Hearos truck will be providing lunch, gratis, at the next softball game." There was scattered applause. "Also for anyone wondering, Officer Moore will be fine. The burns are superficial." Less applause. "The evidence was a bit of a surprise though. Detectives?"

Gail sipped her coffee. "The money recovered from the scene was counterfeit." The silence was palpable. Vivian hadn't known that particular detail, but it explained why Holly had been at work late. "Some of it. OC's been at the food trucks all night and it turns out someone's been using food trucks to launder money. Today there's a street fair down by the lake shore. You guys are going, in plain clothes."

Undercover! Kind of. But still. This was the part Vivian had overheard and frankly she had been looking forward to this all night. "Now I know tonight is Fite Nite," said Dov carefully. "So I want you guys to wrap it up early enough to come support our boy, Fuller, in the ring."

Clearly less worried about that, Gail rolled her eyes. "Some of you are going to be working in the food trucks. Some of you will be patrons. I've worked out who's assigned to what with your TOs. Volk, Hanford, you'll be locals out to try some food. Peck, Aronson, you both will be working the food trucks."

Because Gail knew Vivian could cook. That was fine. "Ma'am, what about me?" Christian had his hand half raised.

"You, Officer Fuller, will be assisting Sgt. Irene Goguen, of the RCMP, while she's here at the station."

Christian's face fell. "Assisting?"

With a smile Vivian knew was trouble, Gail nodded. "Assisting. Like getting her real coffee and not the swill we drink. Speaking of... Irene, there's a great coffee shop down the street."

The Mountie smiled back. "Americano, no sugar, please," she said to Christian. There was a pause and Gail cleared her throat. Vivian elbowed Christian who blurted 'Now?' And then he asked what the other higher ranking officers wanted before rushing out with the list.

"Now, the rest of you, go change. Peck and Aronson, report to Sgt. Simmons. He has your outfits." Gail nodded at John. "I'll be in Sgt. Epstein's office."

While the others filed out, Vivian and Jenny walked up to John. "Peck, I know what you can cook. Aronson, your family owns a restaurant?"

"My aunt and uncle own a Greek restaurant," replied Jenny, surprisingly. She side eyed Vivian, wonderingly.

"Perfect. We have a Greek truck. Peck, that means you get Mexican. You'll both work the front, handling the money. These trucks are cash only and we have a scanner for you to check the bills."

They went through how to check the bills a few times. John made sure they were able to do it quickly and without being too obvious before he handed them the outfits. They wore their own jeans with a shirt for the food truck instead of their own clothes. Vivian toyed with the idea of her own watch but left it in her locker.

"Hey, Peck. Why does Sgt. Simmons know you can cook?"

Vivian hesitated. The real answer was that she'd cooked diner more than once with him there. When Vivian was 20, Gail had broken her left hand, so Vivian had done nearly all the cooking for two months. "He used to date my aunt Rachel," decided Vivian. This was true. It was also 18 years ago.

Simple Jenny seemed to accept that. "Man, do you know all the officers here?"

"Uh, pretty much, yeah," she admitted. "You met Oliver."

Jenny hesitated and then shook her head. "My grandfather was a cop. So was my dad."

That was news to Vivian. Jenny hadn't mentioned it and she didn't know any Aronsons. "Really? In Toronto?"

Nodding, Jenny said a name. "Terzakis."

The name rang a bell. "Nico Terzakis? The..." Vivian stopped. Nico had worked in Fifteen. And been taken down by IA for extortion and money laundering. He'd been funneling money through evidence. The one time she'd hung out with Marlo, at a cops and their families event, Marlo had told her about how that case made her mark in IA. Vivian had kind of liked Marlo. What Marlo saw in Sam was beyond her, though.

"You know?" When Vivian nodded, Jenny sighed. "Yeah. I took Mom's name."

"Don't blame you," agreed Vivian. She'd done the opposite, taking the name that was known, and over the last five years she'd come to regret it. The people who knew she'd taken the Peck name came with two assumptions. Either she was using the name to jump the queue and be advanced by preference, or she did it as a big fuck-you to the Pecks who were assholes.

Neither was the case. She'd had trouble explaining it for years, but it was really simple. The name Peck was the name of people who had survived horrible things. The name Peck was a shield that meant when those things happened again, she would never be alone. It was a safe name. And most importantly, it wasn't Green.

She didn't want to think about that just then. "Wait, that means your grandfather is Stephanos Terzakis. He has the record on parole violation arrests in TwentySeven! Why didn't you go there?"

Jenny shrugged. "I wanted to make up for it... How the hell did you know that? Are you a walking encyclopedia of police lore?"

"No, just a Peck," sighed Vivian.

"Is that why you don't want to play? Scoring your week, I mean. Do they frown on it?"

That implied Jenny knew who the Pecks were, beyond just a name. "You know?"

"Peck is kinda hard to miss."

Vivian shook her head. "They never said anything about it. Not out loud, at least. But they're pretty amazingly silently judgy." It was weird, but maybe this was making friends too? Did that mean she was friends with Rich? Ew.

"Yeah, see that's why I'm not at TwentySeven." Jenny tied her shoes.

Hesitating, Vivian asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone? About me, I mean. I know why you'd keep yourself ..."

Jenny looked surprised. "I dunno… I guess because you get enough shit for that already? I figured either you were a real Peck or it was the universe's most shitty coincidence."

"I don't think you're allowed to be a cop and Peck if you're not actually a real Peck."

They both laughed. "Is there even a station without a Peck?"

Again, Viv shook her head and headed to the door. "Nary a one. And they have to pay a fine if they don't have one. Box of donuts every day."

As she left the room, she heard Jenny shouting after, asking if that donut fine was for real.

They got wired and checked out on the food trucks before heading out to the event. With a dozen food trucks and only two staked out, they were hoping to get lucky. Ninety percent luck, that's what Elaine always said.

John gave them one final run through. "Okay. We'll be listening the whole time. If you get the bogus bills, when you hand them the food, repeat their name and use the code word. Which is?"

Vivian and Jenny looked at each other and sighed. "Order up. We got some hot food trucks!" The words weren't bad, it was just the way they were supposed to pronounce it. Making it sound 'cool.' Vivian was sure that Chloe had come up with it. She had a moronic hot dog chant, which Vivian had heard a hundred times at sports events growing up, that sounded similar.

"Perfect. Serve the food, check the money, don't screw up." John looked torn between amusement and seriousness.

"Yes, sir," they said together and went to their trucks.

The Mexican food smelled amazing. As she took the third seat, Vivian asked, "How are you guys not a million pounds?"

The driver, Felix, laughed. "You'll burn it off today, officer. It gets hot in here and we're hustling."

His partner, Eli, smiled. "You ever worked food before?"

"I help at the annual division barbecue. Have since I was ten." The men shared a look of concern. Vivian couldn't fault them on it. "I do know how to cook. But I'll stay out of your way as much as possible. Work the front, take the orders, serve them out. Trust me, you got the best cop here. I'm way better at memorizing faces. And I can do the math in my head for taxes." She smiled. "Besides, I got an uncle named Eli, so we're basically related now."

The men laughed, seemingly put at ease, and proceeded to tell Vivian all about what the work would be like.

For all Vivian had been worrying the day (and night) before about not being able to do what Gail could, about not handling all the things at once, the hectic pace of the food truck and watching the people and the cash was... Easy. It was easy. It was like she could put half of her brain into working the truck and half into cop, and then she was still able to pay attention to the rest of it. Was this what Gail had meant?

The shifty guy in the Green Bay Packers hat was reported with just a comment about how he maybe shouldn't be such a dick to his girlfriend. The skittish woman in a blue shirt was, momentarily, studied while Vivian passed out four orders and took another. It was all clicking the way it was supposed to. That grove Gail promised she'd fine, where her brain did just pay attention, without needing to be forced to do so, was real.

Vivian felt like a cop.

Then she heard Jenny, from down the row. "We got some hot food trucks!"

The earwig in her ear spoke up. "Eyes on our guy. Name's Noah, jeans, brown shirt that says 1978 in retro letters. Light brown hair, white skin."

"Yeah," said Vivian as casually as she could. "I see it by the waffle truck." Then she took an order from someone else. "Sorry, we're cash only," she pointed out, tapping the sign.

The young woman looked surprised. "Really? Still? Haven't you heard of Square?"

Vivian smiled. "Sure, and we lose 3.5% on transactions, 4.2% plus an extra 20¢ if we have to manually enter it, plus credit card fees, so that $9 you pay turns into $8 or less. But if it's cash, we save money and your credit card fees stay low. There's an ATM around the corner by the blue parasol."

The woman eyed Vivian. "How much would that really be if you manually entered it?"

"Depends what the order is."

"Two carnita taquitos with avocado slaw and a side of the chip mix."

There was something about the tone that was different. The woman was hitting on her? Vivian grinned. "$15.13."

Pulling out a twenty, the woman laughed. "You made that up."

"Did not. Double carnitas, $9. Avo slaw is $3 extra, and another $4 for the chips, which are an awesome choice. $16 total. Minus 67¢ in fees plus 20¢ extra." She turned to the cooks and handed the slip to Felix, "Order in."

"That was impressive." The woman leaned against the truck, smiling toothily.

Vivian demurred, "Just basic math. $16 please, and your name?"

"Ami, with an I." Before Vivian pointed out she didn't need the spelling, Ami scribbled something on the bill and slid it over. "And that's my number."

The voice in her ear laughed. "Rock on, Little Peck."

She was going to kill John later. "It'll be 10 minutes," Vivian replied, feeling abruptly shy. Flirting she was good at. Flirting was fun and safe. This was ... Well. Picking up girls at work was a Peck tradition in a way. She swiped the bill as she got the change and saw the alert light up. Crap. "Four is your change."

"No number?" Ami looked faux disappointed.

"Maybe I'll call you after work," offered Vivian, with a shy smile. Her stomach was in knots and she barely heard the jokes from her earwig.

Felix put an order by her elbow. "Order 29 is up. We're running out of slaw."

With an apologetic look to Ami, Vivian turned to her temporary coworker. "How many servings left?"

"Ten."

She nodded and picked up the order. "Bobby G, order up. Fish and chips, super hot." Spotting the customer, Vivian passed over the food. "Thanks, have a great day."

In between handling the next round of customers, Vivian tucked the bogus bill in the security bag. When Ami's order came up, she must have looked annoyed because Eli spoke up. "You don't like that girl? She looked pretty cute."

"Oh, that's not the problem," sighed Vivian, taking the food. The guys knew the signal. They'd been briefed so as not to be confused. "Ami! Order up! We got come hot food trucks!"

There was a weird silence from both her earwig and the back of the food truck. "Man," muttered Felix.

"That was more than ten minutes," sassed Ami.

"Twelve and a bit, sorry, we had to chop a fresh avocado for you."

Ami smiled brightly and put a toonie in the tip jar. "Smells great." She mimed a phone with her free hand, mouthed 'call me,' and walked off.

If Vivian could have bashed her forehead into the table and not be thought of as insane, she might have done so. God. Of all the luck.

Rarely did Holly make it to Fite Nite. As much as she actually did like boxing in genera, she and Gail had a bad association with the date. This was, after all, the anniversary of their most idiotic breakup. But she had also trained Christian, and her daughter was his corner man. Woman. Whatever. So Holly was obligated to go for once.

Truth be told, she was a little excited. Not that she loved pugilism. Of all the sports she'd played, she liked it the least. Even MMA was better. But to see someone she'd trained have a round was, well, kind of exciting. And Christian was like a nephew to her. When she met him for the first time, it was at Chris' funeral. He'd been so serious and sad. That was when she also met Denise, and feared that Gail might unload on the woman. All the years later, Gail was still mad about how Denise had played Chris for the fool.

But they both liked Christian. As a toddler, he'd been allergic to everything (including grass), but much of that turned out to be Denise having Munchausen's By Proxy. Dov and Gail and Oliver had road-tripped up to Timmins, twice, to handle that, and while they'd never managed to get Christian out of Denise's hands, they had been able to give the boy a stabilizing influence. He knew he was loved, no matter how insane his mother was.

And Christian had grown up into a sweet, darling young man. He was painfully earnest, desperate to prove his worth. While it had been a surprise to Gail and Holly that he wanted to be a police officer in Toronto, Vivian had been writing to him for years and admitted he'd asked her not to tell them. He didn't want to disappoint them if he failed.

Right then, Holly was just happy that her part of the case was over in time. She'd spent most of the night before going over the fact that she had counterfeits. Holly had been surprised when the bills came through the lab. At first, they'd mostly been amused that some of the bills were fried in oil. But then they realized some bills had reacted differently to the oil than others. The ink had inconsistently changed colors in some places.

That turned into them testing the ink in all the bills, and they quickly found a slew of twenties that were all fake. One quick call the the Mounties, who handled counterfeiting, and suddenly she had a mess on her hands.

And the mess was her kid's fault for being involved in that stupid case. And her wife, for not being able to take the major case right away. And the Mounties, for having a person stationed in Toronto. Though Irene was actually very nice, neither she nor Holly had appreciated the idea of giving up the whole night to the work.

Now it was Gail's turn though, finding the counterfeiters. She'd remarked that they'd probably send Chloe and her undercover minions after them if it looked like the right idea. Chloe was still Gail's go-to cop for undercover, and with good reason. Chloe was amazing at undercover work.

Neither Gail nor Chloe were around.

"Holly!" The familiar voice of her sister-in-law cut through the crowd. "You came! Where's the bitchy one?"

"Stuck with Irene the hot Mountie," grinned Holly, hugging Traci hello. "She said the fight was at nine but..."

They both looked up at the ring, where two women were duking it out. "Oh that's ThirtyOne and the Big Building. We have three more fights until our baby boy." Traci shook her head. "Do you know, I won in our year."

Holly nodded. "Peck's told me. Over and over. I think it was one of the warnings they gave Steve when you guys got engaged."

"That sounds like something they'd say," laughed Traci. "I can't believe I'm going to be married eighteen years this fall! How did that happen?"

"Don't look at me," Holly muttered. "Next year is twenty. The mothers have taken over." Lily and Elaine decided that, since they never really had a public ceremony, and since their ten year was just a party at the Penny with Karaoke and friends, they needed a real, big, party. Gail was already protesting.

"Do it once, they'll forgive us for not giving them actual grandbabies."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Hey, I gave them a kid."

"You cheated with a pre-baked child," teased Traci. "Speaking of, where is she?"

"Hopefully with Christian... Where is he?"

"The prep room. Go past the stands where Dov and the white shirts are, Fifteen's is on the left."

Thanking Traci, Holly scooted around the crowd and ducked into the back to find Christian. The young man was sitting on a bench in his trunks and boots, but with a sweatshirt on and his hands not even wrapped. "Christian! Why aren't you ready?"

"Dr. Stewart! I'm waiting on Viv," he explained, looking mournful.

Holly sighed and picked up his wraps. "Give me a hand. Why is she not here?"

Extending his left hand, Christian cleared his throat. "She's getting told off for flirting with a suspect. Except it's not fair! The suspect flirted with her!"

She started to wrap the bandages around his hand, eyebrows raised. "The suspect flirted with her? This was the counterfeiter?"

"Yes, ma'am. We caught 'em. The Mounties are all stoked."

"Good. It was a really clever copy, too. Did they show you?"

As Christian was jittery tense, she told him about the technical aspects of the case, letting the Patented Stewart Babble sooth his nerves. Just as she wrapped his second hand, Vivian came running in, sweating, in her uniform undershirt. "Sorry, sorry, all good- oh thank god, Mom."

"You're late," chided Holly, smiling. "Get him ready." She patted Christian's knee. "You're good. Kick ass."

"Yes'm," nodded Christian at his most earnest, eyes locked on Vivian.

Leaving them be, Holly headed back out and bumped into one of the other rookies. "S'cuse me, you're not supposed to be here," said the young man. He looked like a bit of a dude.

"I'm a friend of Christian's," she pointed out, smiling at the young man. They looked so young. They were infants. Had she and Gail ever been that young? It felt like a lifetime ago.

The young man tilted his head. "Well. I guess that's okay," he muttered. His eyes drifting up and down her. "You're from the lab, right?"

"I am. Dr. Holly Stewart." Had the man played attention at all to things at the lab, like the name on the paperwork, he'd know her name. He clearly didn't.

Extending his hand, he grinned in a way that was supposed to be rakish, she supposed. "Rich Hanford. Pleased to meet you."

It did not escape Holly that his eyes went to her left hand. She'd not put her ring back on after work. As horrible as it was, Holly loved the moments where the rookies who were cougar hunters hit on her, just for the inevitable moment when they realized she was married to an Inspector in their building. "You wouldn't happen to know where the drinks are, would you?"

Rich beamed at her. "I sure do. Are you here with someone?"

"No, surprisingly." Gail had texted to say she was running late, after all. The odds were that Gail would skid in right before the fight. She wouldn't miss this one.

"Let me buy you a drink," he said, not asking it as a question. Oh the poor boy.

Holly smiled. "A beer, please. Thank you, Rich."

He led her over to the drinks, using a coupon (hah!) to pay for her drink. "So what do you do in the lab?"

Clearly he hadn't done anything by way of looking into who ran things. "I'm a medical examiner," she said smoothly, popping the beer cap off and taking a sip.

"Wow, I just saw my first autopsy last month. It was pretty wild."

That was when the name clicked. Vivian had told her about Rich, who had tossed his cookies and then gave her grief for eating lunch afterward. "Oh, the man who died robbing the marijuana dispensary? That was an interesting case. You were the rookie in the van?"

"Yeah," he beamed. "Me and Princess Peck. Pretty cool."

"Princess?" She tilted her head. Her kid was a princess.

"Yeah, she's total police royalty, I guess. Bazillion Pecks around here."

Well. That was true. "I suppose that makes sense," agreed Holly.

Rich must have seen something in her face, as he quickly spoke again. "Oh, but she's actually pretty cool. I mean, she doesn't play it up. She just, you know how some people have advantages 'cause they're born into the right family? That's all."

Before Holly could comment, her name was shouted. "Holly!" Dov bounced down the stairs. "Come here!"

She smiled at Rich. "Sorry, it was nice to meet you, Rich."

"You too, Doc," he agreed and watched her as she went up the seats to the white shirts.

Dov hugged her and whispered, "Why are you letting him hit on you?"

"Because it'll be hilarious when he figures it out," laughed Holly.

"God, you and Gail are terrible." But he wasn't really complaining. "You have the same evil sense of humor."

It was true. "You love us for it. Now, where is my snarkier half?"

"Finishing up. She'll make Christian's fight, but they want the lawyers done so they don't have to work all weekend."

That was a good idea. "Alright. I hate having her distracted all weekend."

"Seriously, she gets all Peckish," agreed Dov.

"Is my kid going to be mopey?"

"Viv? Why should she?"

"I heard she got yelled at for hitting on a suspect?"

Dov laughed. "Oh hell no. No, she got the suspect's number, details on her, and we used that to catch both her and her brother. I'll let her brag later. John was just giving her grief for flirting at crime scenes."

Rolling her eyes, Holly drank some beer. "That's entirely unfair from a group of people who are so incesteous."

"And yet John has never actually slept with anyone at work," the man pointed out.

"Oh fine," laughed Holly.

"Serious question, though. Do we have a chance?" He gestured at the ring. "I need a win. I might lose my wife for a month to this case."

It had been over a two decades since their Division had won Fite Nite. The whole time Holly had been familiar with them, they'd won nothing. She knew Dov took it personally. Add in the stress that came with your spouse vanishing for a case, and he was probably feeling it. "You know, technically Oliver was the sergeant when the streak started. So this is inherited."

Dov shook his head. "I carried it on." He exhaled loudly.

"Why didn't you talk Viv into fighting?"

"I tried, she said no and Gail threatened to make sure I didn't have any more kids." He took a long pull from his beer. "Pecks don't box."

That was interesting. Holly would have to ask her wife about that later.

"Winner, Big Building's Peggy!" The announcer held the hand up for the winner and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Holly broke out in a laugh and covered her mouth. Peggy was a phone operator. No one was going to be giving her grief any time soon.

Finally it was Christian's turn. "Okay, C, you got this," she told him, massaging his arms to keep them loose. "Remember, keep your guard, go for his upper chest and face. As soon as he brings his arms up, solar plexus."

Christian nodded, his eyes wide and a little wild. "And if he turtles, keep hitting his forearms and try for the side."

"You got it, my man."

They really only had one worry. Andrew was fast. He was damn fast. Vivian had seen him move, dancing around the ring and sending jab after jab after jab. He was a speed demon. And Christian, love him, was not fast. He wasn't slow. He had stamina and durability, but he was not super fast.

The announcer's voice echoed. "Final round! Ladies and gentlemen, officers of all ages, our last fight of the night is the oldest rivalry in Fite Nite history. The fighting Fifteen Division has been striving for a win for over twenty years. Is tonight the night they finally take the crown back from favorites TwentySeven?"

The crowd cheered and jeered in equal parts and Christian bounced on the balls of his feet. "Hell yes," he muttered under his breath.

Vivian clapped her hands on his shoulder. "That's right," she said firmly.

The announcer read off the information of Christian's opponent (Andrew the Thunder from the Bay, because he was from Thunder Bay), his height and weight, and then it was Christian's turn. Height, weight, and finally, "Christian, the Timmons Terror, Fuller!"

As the crowd screamed and cheered, they bounded out into the arena. It was a massive number of people, more than Vivian remembered seeing in the last five years. She liked Fite Nite. Once she turned 19, she'd come every year on her own since her Moms didn't really care for it. Gail said it was negative memories. Holly admitted she'd rather be with Gail than see people hit each other.

This felt different, and Vivian wasn't sure if it was because she was working or because she finally felt the pressure of the win. Her whole life with her Moms, Fifteen had never won. She remembered the year when she'd been sixteen that they almost won, but the decision went to TwentySeven.

Vivian helped Christian out of his sweatshirt. "Okay, C. Guard up. Hit hard."

"Don't screw up," he grinned and opened his mouth.

She put the mouth guard in and slapped his bare shoulder. "That's my boy." She had the towel on her shoulder and gripped it right. Gail made her promise not to let Christian get really hurt.

The two men stepped out and glared at each other. As much as Christian glared at anyone. "Okay, gentlemen. I want a clean fight. Touch gloves, go to your corner, and come back fighting."

They tapped gloves and bounced back. Christian gripped the ropes, stretching one last time. Vivian was surprised to see how serious he looked. Not that C wasn't a serious guy, but he had never looked super serious before. His eyes were sharper and narrower than Vivian had ever seen before.

As the bell rang, Christian nodded and pivoted, dashing to the center of the ring, ready. And promptly stopped a fist right in the nose. Vivian winced as Fifteen groaned. But, as Christian pivoted his waist and she caught a glimpse of his face. It was dark and dangerous. Those were things that she had never seen on his face before.

Fierce.

Christian turned from his waist, cocked his left arm, and swung with all the force behind the turn. He used the physics to his advantage. He hit hard. Vivian swore she saw Andrew get lifted off the ground. Holy crap. When Andrew landed, he bent at the waist and Christian swung again with his right, sending a shattering chop down on his head.

Just like that, Andrew was on the ground, the ref was separating the two, and Christian, bloody nose and all, turned back to his corner.

"Holy fuck," muttered Vivian, agog.

The ref counted down from ten. On two, Andrew somehow managed to get to his feet. The ref made him take three steps, checked his eyes, and then nodded, calling to fight on. Christian's guard was up, his head was down and protected, and he plowed in again.

This was his tactic to fight the speed! He wasn't going to give Andrew a chance to rev up his engine. Christian was brilliant. How had she not thought about it before? With his head down, Christian punched from the waist and hammered Andrew, pushing him into the opposite corner. He hit at the shoulder level over and over, like Holly had suggested, until Andrew's guard raised.

It was that moment that gave the win to Fifteen. It was the instant, the second in time that Christian moved just right that changed the world. He twisted slightly, his feet planted wide, his hips turned just enough, and he swung hard from the waist. Right, left, right, left, over and over and over, until a flash of white flew in the air and the ref was grabbing him. Vivian stumbled through the ropes, rushing to grab Christian's other arm and pull him back.

Andrew collapsed to the ground the second the force of Christian's blows stopped keeping him upright.

Fifteen was an uproar. The cheers were deafening. "C! C! You won!" She had to shout into his ear. His whole body was still tense and hot, like he was on fire. "Christian! Fight's over!"

Finally the words broke into his head. Christian spat the mouthpiece into his glove. "Over? Who won?"

Seriously? Vivian eyed him. "You did." She pointed looked at the mat, where an EMT was checking on the barely conscious Andrew.

"Oh..." Christian looked dazed. "But I'm bleeding."

"Yeah, you stopped a fist with your face, idiot." She tugged him to the center. "Come on."

The ref eyed them both. "You okay, kid?" They nodded and the ref grabbed the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner, with a KO in the first minute of the first round, breaking a two decade drought for Fifteen, CHRISTIAN FULLER!"

The crowd was going nuts. Even TwentySeven was cheering. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up, champ," she told her friend, trying to keep him from noticing she was worried. Vivian had never seen him flip like that. He was awesome, but a little scary.

On the way to the locker room, Dov shouted he was proud of Christian, Holly flashed a thumbs up, Traci and Andy were howling their heads off, and in the way back, a platinum blonde lifted a beer. So Gail had made it after all.

"Where's Andrew?"

"The EMTs are checking him out. He's probably going to checked out for a concussion," admitted Vivian, sitting Christian down in a chair. "How's the nose feel?"

"Broken." He wrinkled his face and winced. "Get my gloves off first? Please?"

Vivian nodded and cut the tape, pulling off the gloves and the headgear before picking up the first aid kit and wiping his face. "It's not too bad. Want me to get a doc?"

The dark haired man eyed her. "You can set it, right?"

Technically, yes. "Yeah, but I'm not a doctor."

"It's a nose."

"Yeah, I didn't go into medicine for a reason, idiot," Vivian pointed out.

Thankfully they were spared further argument by the EMT who came in to check on Christian. After making sure he didn't have a concussion, the EMT set his nose, taped it, and put an icepack on Christian's face. "No drinking tonight, Rocky. Monday, maybe. If you get a headache, go to the ER. Do you live alone?"

"No," muttered Christian. Satisfied, the EMT left after telling them what kind of painkillers were okay.

"I forgot you had a roommate."

"I try to," he grumbled. Christian roomed with a guy from Three Division named Buddy. They had neighboring rooms in the Academy and Christian pointed out he really couldn't afford the place on his own. Sometimes it made Vivian feel weird for not having moved out yet.

She pulled her phone out and texted Buddy, asking him to please keep an eye on Christian that night. "You sure you don't want to crash at my place? You know my Moms won't care."

Christian shook his head. "That'd just be weird. I mean, it's the weekend."

"And I'd get yelled at if I didn't offer," she smiled. Her phone pinged and she glanced to see what Buddy said... Only it wasn't a text from Buddy. It was Olivia.

Mom said I've missed the fight but Christian won. Tell him congratulations.

Christian eyed her. "Who's the text from?"

"Liv. She says congratulations." Before Christian said to tell her thanks, Viv texted that anyway.

"Man, what are you doing, Viv?" He shook his head. "She keeps making those eyes at you."

Vivian blinked at him. "That's been over for a while, C. Nothing happening. And clearly I have Mom's luck with the ladies."

"Yeah, but she got it right in the end."

That was true, Vivian had to allow. "There's a problem with it, Christian. See, every day I see those two, in love, and making it work. So I know what it looks like. And I know when that's not what I've got."

Christian frowned. "We're twenty four, Viv! We're idiots! We are young, hot, twenty something's, with awesome jobs, and maybe you should let your hair down a bit and have fun. You don't have to find 'the one' right away! Hell, we may never! But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy life!"

"How very deep," muttered Vivian, ignoring the return text. It was just going to be Liv again.

"You are too deep. Try being shallow." He stood up. "This is my plan. I'm a hero tonight, so I'm going to play my broken nose up and get some hot girl to want to take care of me, and I'll probably feel guilty or regret it in the morning, but I will have fun. You should try it."

Vivian watched Christian head to the shower and sighed. He made it sound easy. But casual and shallow were things she'd never mastered. She glanced at the phone and stifled a laugh. It was from Gail.

Please find a ride home. Late.

That her mothers hadn't stayed was no shocker. Neither was it odd that they ditched her.

"Go get a drink, Peck," shouted Christian from the shower.

"Waiting for you to have pants on, Fuller!"

"For a lesbian, you're a total perv, Peck," noted Rich.

Vivian eyed him. "I didn't see you falling over, volunteering to help."

Her fellow rookie rolled his eyes. "I was chancing on a fine lady. A doctor."

Oh god. Vivian laughed. If she was right here, it was going to be hilarious. "A doctor? Dr. Stewart?"

His eyes widened. "What the hell? Are you psychic?"

"Yes," grinned Vivian. In her mind, she could envision the look of horror on his face later when he found out who Holly was, and who she was married to. "Look, Rich, if you let anything happen to C, and I mean anything, I will hang your testicles from your locker. You may or may not still be attached to them." Vivian patted his shoulder and walked out.

There were still fights going on, so Vivian collected a beer and found Lara and Jenny. "Hell how mad was the sarge?" Jenny actually sounded worried.

"Simmons? Not at all," admitted Vivian. "He had me call her up and ask her out for coffee. When she went to pay, she used another fake bill, our guy behind the counter checked. Cuffs on before my coffee went cold." With a sigh, Vivian added, "Yet another notch of awesome in the crap that is my love life."

Jenny frowned and said, faux seriously, "Your dates always end in arrests?"

The three women laughed. "Better than mine," joked Lara. "One was an alcoholic. One hit me, once."

There was a pause. Jenny asked, "What'd you do?"

"Broke his arm." Lara said it so matter-of-factly, it was impressive. "What about you, Jen?"

"Cheater, cheater... Shitty sex."

Vivian and Lara both lifted their beers. "Word," they said as one.

"Come on," laughed Lara. "How bad can bad lesbian sex be?" When Vivian grimaced, Lara looked horrified. "But you're both girls!"

It was both Jenny and Vivian who snorted. "That means nothing," Jenny noted. "You bi, Peck?"

"Nup," she shook her head. "Nothing wrong with it, just not for me."

"I hear you," nodded Jenny. They watched a little of the fight and then Jenny leaned around and eyed Vivian. "You know, I don't think we've ever actually talked."

"Peck doesn't talk much," Lara remarked, not unkindly.

Jenny nodded. "She says she's not interesting. Which can't be true. I mean, our sergeant is practically your uncle."

In all likelihood, Jenny hadn't meant for it to sound like a dig, or a pointed comment about her last name. But in a way Vivian had really expected it. Lara looked surprised. "Seriously?"

Vivian shrugged. "Yep." It wasn't a secret. She didn't go out of her way to hide it. But she didn't want (or get) anything special for being who she was, so there was no point to it.

"How uncle are we talking?" Lara narrowed her eyes curiously.

Hesitating, Vivian admitted, "I used to babysit Epstein's kid." Dov also taught her how to shoot a pistol long range, something he was better at than Gail. "He was roommates with my mom for years. They're friends."

"Well that sucks," Lara declared, surprising the hell out of her. "No wonder he's always on your case about shit."

"Seriously," agreed Jenny.

Vaguely Viv recalled Gail telling her how Dov used to give her grief about being a Peck and all the nepotism. Maybe that was why he was so hard on her about stuff. "It is what it is." Her phone beeped and Vivian glanced at her watch. Liv was asking if the fights were still going on. Tapping the 'yes' reply button, she added, "I knew what I was getting into."

Jenny looked amused. "That's what I keep telling myself."

The phone pinged again. As Vivian read the message from Liv saying she was coming by, Lara elbowed her. "Who's this you keep smiling at."

Vivian looked across the room. "Inspector Williams' youngest." She tapped her phone open, telling Liv to turn around.

"Oh! The one you went to school with," remembered Lara, smiling. "Invite her over."

Bounding around the crowd, Liv smiled broadly as she dropped onto the bench beside Vivian. "Hey, you! Introduce me."

Pointing at everyone in turn, Vivian introduced. "Lara Volk, Olivia Best, Jenny Aronson."

Liv rolled her eyes. "Before you ask, yes, she's always been like this. Known her since first grade."

"Hang on," laughed Lara. "Peck has friends?"

"Shut up." Vivian grumbled. "There's Matty."

Smirking, Jenny asked, "Two people? Wait, she's Christian's friend!"

"Technically, C and me are inherited friends. Our parents all worked together." Liv paused when she caught Vivian's eyes and slight head-shake. "Complicated is the watchword of Fifteen. But come on, I missed the fight. Someone tell me?"

Thank god Liv was smart. She understood without Vivian having to explain just then that they were keeping things on the down low. Christian didn't want everyone to see him as the sad son of a kidnapper, or the non-son of a dead man beloved by the division. Vivian didn't want to have more Peck accolades slapped at her without earning them.

They were not their parents' generation.

Christian, broken nose and all, came out to watch the last few fights, happily hugging Liv as he joined them. Medical student Liv made him show her the damage and pronounced it survivable. That led to her explaining how she was studying cancer treatments and cures, and would be moving to San Diego after the summer. Everyone was interested in it, except Vivian who already knew the story.

As the fights ended, Liv went back to where her mother and the white shirts were sitting and Vivian went to sit on the back stairs, finishing up her last beer. She could take public transportation home, or possibly catch a ride, but she wasn't quite sure if her parents were asleep yet. Probably not.

The door at the top of the stairs opened and, a moment later, Liv sat down beside her. "Mom said this is where Pecks brood after Fite Nite."

"I'm not brooding, I'm stalling."

Olivia blinked and then laughed. "You came with your moms?"

"Nah, John dropped me off after work. I come to the station with Mom every day, though."

"That makes a certain amount of sense," agreed Liv. "So. How's it really going?"

Vivian shrugged. "Good? I think. It's hard to tell from the inside." She rolled the beer bottle between her palms. "I like it."

Bumping shoulders, Liv smiled. "That's good. Holly was worried about that."

"She shouldn't be. I knew I wanted this."

"Yeah, but parents." They shared a smile. "So Dad said you were bait?"

With a laugh, Vivian explained the case, and how she'd ended up being hit on by one of the counterfeiters. "Which is really her dumb luck," Viv noted. "Of all the hot girls at the beach, she gives her digits to the undercover cop."

The look on Liv's face was torn between pleased and annoyed. "Hey, but look at you, getting out in the dating pool again."

"Dating criminals, woo," joked Vivian. "Everyone knows, by the way."

Liv looked panicked. "About ..." She pointed between them.

"Oh, no. No, just about me." Vivian finished the last of her beer. "Well. They know I'm gay. They don't know who my Moms are."

Her friend laughed. "You are such a shit. Why don't you tell them?"

"First off, Rich was hitting on Holly."

"Rich the snooty one who looks like a magazine model? Can I be here when Aunt Gail scares him shitless?"

Vivian smiled. "Mom's such an ass," she agreed.

Draining her red SOLO cup, Olivia smiled. "And second?"

"Second is... I don't want them to see me as that Peck all the time."

"Yeah, you knew you were getting into that," admonished Olivia.

With a shrug, Vivian leaned back on the steps. "Doesn't mean I need to encourage it. That's all."

Olivia made a noise of agreement and leaned against the wall. It was nice to just sit and hang out with her friend for a while. That had been one of her favorite things with Liv. The sitting in quiet. The fact that they didn't need to worry about where things were going for a change.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"Eventually." Vivian sighed and checked her watch.

The doctor-to-be laughed softly. "The horndogs never stop, do they?"

Vivian smiled. "Nope, and I hope they never do." It didn't matter how annoyed she was. Her parents were always there when she needed them. They stopped everything for her, many times. Giving them privacy and a chance to reconnect that way was the simplest, easiest thing she could do to say thank you.

"You want to crash at my place? You can use Sophie's room. And my folks love you."

"Your Mom loves me more than you," teased Vivian.

Liv shoved her shoulder. "It's not funny," she laughed. "She totally does."

Grinning, Viv drawled in her best Gail, "Well. I am totally awesome."

Her friend smiled and looked up at the sky. "You won't sleep over." It wasn't a question. "And you won't tell me why." Vivian looked at her feet and didn't reply. What could she possibly say? With a loud sigh, Liv got up and started down the stairs. She paused at the foot. "You coming? If you're going to sit outside a building all night, may as well be your own house."

The ride to her house was quiet. "This seems backwards. Wasn't I always driving you home?"

"Quid pro quo, Clarice," rasped Liv, and they laughed. "Where is the crapmobile anyway?"

"In the garage. Still runs."

Liv shook her head. "That's crazy. I don't blame you for riding to work with Aunt Gail."

"Hey, it's mine. I bought it with my own money, thank you," pointed out Vivian.

"It's a good car," agreed Liv. "It just runs like shit. Took us an extra two hours to get up to the cabin."

"You don't speed in the crapmobile." When he'd sold her the car, Steve made her promise that. Vivian checked her watch again.

Liv gave her a side eye. "What are you checking for? Texts from a hot girl?"

It was a little embarrassing. "You know how Mom's a great big nerd, right?" Liv snorted at her. "Right so, she has this new thing that tracks her sleep and wakes her up gently at the right point in her sleep cycle. But she has to turn it on before she goes to sleep."

Her friend thought about that for a moment. "You lost me."

"It hooks into the family health kit app on our phones. Soooo."

Liv laughed. "Oh my god, you're waiting for an alert to tell you Holly went to sleep?"

"Only way I can be sure they went to bed," sighed Vivian, amused. "I used to wait till the bathroom light went off."

"Do I want to know why it was on?"

"I never asked," Viv smiled. Liv pulled up to the curb in front of the Peck/Stewart house. "Thank you. For the ride." There was a weird tension in the car and Vivian wasn't sure if she liked it. Taking off her seatbelt, her watch pinged. Both she and Liv looked up at the second floor, where a light went off.

Liv cracked up. "Oh that is hilarious."

The timing really was perfect. "What can I say? I know my moms well." She was surprised to see Liv chewing her lip. That was classic nervous Olivia, last seen when giving a Model UN talk about genocide. Unlike Vivian, who always felt nervous and awkward around people when forced to make small talk, Olivia was the extrovert.

As Vivian reached for the door handle, Liv asked, "Can I... Can I come in and talk?"

Okay. That was weird. "Sure, but Gail might come downstairs." Gail often made midnight snack runs on a normal night.

They ended up sitting out on the swing set. Everyone had told Gail that Vivian was too old for it, at ten, but the wooden swing set with a slide was her favorite place to hang out. Even in winter, she'd sit on the top of the slide as if it were a clubhouse. It was too small for her and Liv to sit in there now, being adults, so they sat on the swings.

She didn't push Liv, literally or metaphorically. They sat in their own swing, rocking back and forth absently. Waiting was easy. Viv had learned that from Gail. The art of being patient and relaxed made the other person uncomfortable and want to fill the void with something. Maybe that wasn't fair to do to her friend, but it made sense when she wasn't sure what was up.

Finally Olivia sighed. "I'm terrified," she whispered. And like that, her fears bubbled out and spilled over into a word-vomit Vivian hadn't heard since they were teens. Liv was moving to another country and she was going to work with some of the most brilliant people in the world. She wasn't anywhere near their ability. She couldn't possibly keep up with them. And here she was, moving far away from home to try and be something else. It was worse because Sophie had already gone off to Berkley and come back, so she was a success, and what if Olivia failed?

When it was clear Liv had run herself out of words, Viv dragged her feet to stop swinging. "You know... Failing at science isn't a big deal." Her friend startled. "Seriously. It's called experimental, dumb ass. You're supposed to make mistakes and try again."

"What if I kill someone?"

"As opposed to cancer killing them?"

Liv blinked and laughed softly. "Okay. There's that."

"Look, you're smart. You're good, but yeah, you're the rookie here. You're going to suck, you're going to mess up. It's a given. But it's what they expect."

"Says the Peck. Holly was first in her class."

"Holly had no social life outside of Slutty BitchTits and Rachel, is an actual genius with a disgustingly high IQ, and is a great big nerd." They both laughed. "Holly works her ass off for all this, you know that."

Shaking her head, Liv asked, "So that's your advice? Work hard?"

"Success is 90% luck and 10% timing. You have timing on your side here, Liv. Go grab it."

They sat silently for a moment. "You told me that when I went to Montréal."

"It was the right thing to do," Viv said firmly. "So's San Diego. Weather'll be better."

Liv smiled softly. "How come you know what to say?"

"It's all that training to talk people off rooftops," she replied blithely. Fear was something Vivian understood, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. She knew what it was like to be scared and uncomfortable. The nearly faded memories of foster homes before this one did still linger, but she was pretty sure that wasn't related.

The inside of Vivian's had was a strange place. Things didn't unpack themselves neatly. But all that bottled up mess made it easier to understand people, even if she didn't like them very much.

Olivia reached over and touched Vivian's hand. "I'm serious. Thank you."

The nagging voice of Holly told her how to answer. Vivian smiled, "You're welcome."

And then Liv kissed her.

It wasn't the peck of lips to the cheek like friends did (well, friends of Holly's). This was the inappropriate and unexpected press of lips to her own. This was confusing. This was Liv kissing her like before they broke up. Vivian froze as Liv's fingers touched her face.

She'd forgotten how nice and safe kissing Liv was. It was comfortable. Which was probably part of why they hadn't worked out. Vivian took hold of Liv's upper arms, which Liv took as a sign to lean in more. No. This was a bad idea. "Liv," she whispered, carefully pushing her oldest friend back. "What's going on?"

Liv's face was not what Vivian had expected. It was horror and shock and regret. "Oh god... I don't know... Why did I... I have to go."

And Liv bolted, leaving Vivian more confused than she'd been before.

Gail smiled as Holly wrapped her arms around her waist. "Hello, Doctor," she purred, leaning back against her wife.

"Hello, Inspector." Holly kissed her neck. "Doing the dishes has never looked sexier."

"I think that every time you wash up." Gail shut the water off and turned around to drape her arms around Holly's neck. "You're home early." Both her wife and daughter had gone off to play softball with firemen that morning. Or against. Whatever.

"Game rained out." They kissed softly and Gail smiled.

"Where's junior?" Leaning in, Gail kissed the place on Holly's jaw that she knew gave the brunette shivers. If the kid was going to be out...

Holly sighed and tilted her head to the side, giving Gail a little more access. "Junior... Is not here." She groaned when Gail stopped. "Seriously?"

Pressing her cheek to Holly's, Gail whispered, "I don't want to get cockblocked when you're riiiiiiiight there." The again was unspoken.

Her wife made a frustrated noise. "She went to check on Christian and said she'd be home by dinner. Happy? Can we go be naked now?"

Gail let go and grabbed Holly's hands. "Yes. Provided you're alright with me getting up to check on the roast in..." She checked her watch. "78 minutes."

Looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully, Holly drawled, "That might be cutting it a little fine. What kind of roast?"

"The red wine pot roast from Julia Child's book."

Her wife sighed dramatically. "We'll have to risk it."

Ninety-six minutes later, Gail slipped back into the bed and wrapped an arm around Holly, snuggling close. "Needs another hour or so," she murmured into Holly's ear.

Holly hummed that she'd heard, but didn't move or speak. She was smiling, and that was enough for now. Gail settled in and closed her eyes when Holly finally said something. "What were you doing?"

"Braising the beef." There was a brief moment before they both giggled. "Come on, this was still way better than baseball, right?"

"Softball," corrected Holly, stretching and turning to face Gail. "Much better."

They kissed again and Holly reached for her hip as Gail's phone beeped. "Damn it," grumbled Gail, rolling over to grab her phone. The message was from Vivian, texting to let her know she'd be home in time to watch the game. "What game are you and the monkey watching?"

A hand slid across her bare back. "Soccer. Women's World Cup is soon." Soft lips pressed against her shoulder and then the back of her neck. Fingers played with the hairs at the base of Gail's neck. "Game's not for a couple hours," Holly noted, molding herself along Gail's back.

That felt so good. Gail shivered. "I love it when you play with my hair," she noted.

"Convenient," agreed Holly. "I love playing with it." She kissed the wisps of hair along Gail's neck, a hand sliding back to her hip.

In the two decades they'd been together, Gail had grown her hair out to her shoulders once. There had also been a brief time where Holly had chopped hers to her chin, though that was caused by her hair being set on fire by an errant firework. That had been a terrifying day.

This was not a terrifying day. This was a day when Holly's hands touched Gail. This was a good day, where age was a non-issue. The division had broken its loosing streak the night before, they'd had a great Fite Nite for a change. Normally Gail tried to work Fite Nite, so as not to repeat the mistakes of the past. This year, she'd tried to make it, ended up catching Christian's fight, and then ...

Well. They were married and they had sex. A lot. There was nothing wrong with that.

Afterwards, Holly was far too awake and bounced into the shower, singing off key. Gail lay on her stomach, smiling. Keeping the romance going after all this time was work, but it was well worth it. They were constantly carving out time just for each other, taking advantage of surprise afternoons like this, planning vacations that were just them.

As the shower turned off, Gail spoke up. "Hey, Holly? We should go see your folks for Christmas."

Her wife didn't reply right away. "They'll be out here next year for our anniversary," Holly finally noted.

"S'why we should go there. Don't make Brian fly too much."

The talented fingers of the doctor fluffed her hair. "You are very thoughtful," she told Gail fondly. "Go take a shower."

Gail hunkered down and hugged her pillow. "How much time do I have?"

"Your watch says 18 minutes."

Crap. Gail grumbled and got out of bed. "Fine, but you start the laundry."

They were downstairs and dressed by the time Vivian showed up, sweaty and with grease on her face. "My car sucks," she informed her parents and sat down on the couch.

"Who was it giving me shit about making the couch all icky and gross?" Gail shook her head and grabbed a coconut water out of the fridge for her daughter. "What broke?"

"Radiator hose. I love you, Mom." Vivian downed half the drink. "Is that your world famous pot roast?"

Gail looked at Holly. "I am a celebrated and decorated detective. I have more accolades and awards than anyone else my age. I was the youngest detective inspector in the history of OC. And what am I famous for? Fucking cooking."

With a smile, Holly pulled Gail close to kiss her. "You're an excellent cook." And then she whispered, "And the fucking."

"Not the point." But Gail let herself be distracted by Holly's kisses until the timer on her watch went off.

Holly slapped Gail's butt as she went into the kitchen. "Viv, help me with the table?"

"Can we eat on the couch?" Vivian almost whinged. "I'm tired."

There was something about Vivian's tone that caught Gail's attention. She looked over at Vivian and saw the slumped shoulders. "Couch is fine," she agreed. "Holly, grab the deep plates?" Gail started to slice the meat on the cutting board.

They quietly served up the plates, Gail making two trips while Holly broke out the red wine. "Vino?"

"Por moi, merci," said Gail as she took her favorite spot in her chair. The sport-twins were just going to mess with their spreadsheets. "Et vous, mon singe?"

Vivian waved a hand, "Sure."

The food was a hit, distracting Holly enough that she had to rewind the game multiple times. Weirdly, Vivian didn't make a comment about it. Normally she'd tease the hell out of Holly for being distracted. Instead, she just watched the game and ate, barely seeming to notice what she was eating.

"Oh, honey I forgot to tell you, that dude rookie hit on me." Holly propped her feet up on the table and sipped her wine. "Rick?"

Finally Vivian spoke up. "Rich. Hanford." She sunk further into the couch.

Mopey Vivian. Check. Holly eyed Gail curiously. She'd noticed too. "Right. Two-times. That's the one I knew would," smiled Gail, stretching her legs out so her feet could bump Holly's. "Though Jenny strikes me as someone into a little lady loving."

The sulky rookie muttered, "She's bi, not crazy."

Holly shook her head. "Viv, are you okay?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," Vivian replied, hunching down.

When Holly opened her mouth, Gail cleared her throat. "Desert?" She got up and went to the kitchen. "It's fresh fruit, Holly, don't start." Both women replied they'd like it and Gail brought the bowls over.

"Your fingers are in my bowl," chastised Holly, taking one.

"We've swapped spit, Stewart. Give up." Gail put a bowl in Vivian's lap and sat on her other side. "Who are we rooting for?"

Vivian picked at the fruit. "The ones in blue." She didn't seem all that interested in the sports.

On the other side of their kid, Holly looked a little concerned. Still, when she finished her desert, the doctor kissed Vivian's forehead and told them not to stay up too late. Gail was left alone with her kid. Since Vivian was being uncommunicative, Gail turned on a reality TV show about logging.

Waiting out people was something Gail was good at. She'd found it tricky at first, fallen into it by accident, and then made it her own. She knew where to fill in the conversation, where to leave it empty, and where to let the wanting desperation to unburden one's self take over.

In many ways it was unfair to do that to her family. But seeing as they all knew she could, they knew what they were getting into with these conversations.

"I think I did a stupid thing," muttered Vivian. "Only I'm not sure what part was dumb."

"Okay," mused Gail. That was interesting.

Looking up at Gail, Viv asked, "When you did dumb things when you were my age, who did you talk to?"

"Steve. Sometimes. Mostly I kept it to myself."

Her daughter frowned. "It's complicated."

"You don't have to tell anyone," noted Gail.

"Except my head shrink."

Gail ruffled Vivian's hair. "You know you don't have to go see one anymore, right?"

Her daughter eyed her. "You and Mom do."

"Unlike you," noted Gail, "Holly and I have medical reasons for that." Gail had literal brain damage, and wasn't that a hoot to find out. It did make her feel better for not being able to shake the stupid nightmares, which in turn made her less likely to stress out over it, which had more that once ended with her unloading on people. As for Holly, it was 'simple' depression, which was anything but.

According to all the doctors though, there was nothing wrong with Vivian. Still. She went to her therapist every month. Every once in a while they brought it up, reminding her she didn't have to keep going. And every time, Vivian smiled and nodded and said she wanted to.

Right now, she sunk impossibly low in a slouch that was beyond even teenaged Gail's abilities. "It's easier to talk to someone not ... Connected." When she looked up at Gail, her eyes with the same guarded hope that had been common to the seven year old. Someone who wanted to believe in people, but who knew better already.

Gail sighed. "Yeah. I can see that. That's why I keep Chloe around."

Vivian snorted a laugh and smiled. "I had wondered."

They watched the end of the logging show, saying nothing more. Sometimes it was also okay not to talk about things. Sometimes it was okay to just be.

Chapter Text

Sniffing her uniform pants in the locker room, Vivian sighed.

"That's creepy, Peck," Jenny remarked.

"I've washed it every day this week. They still smell. I think the sweat is ground in." She sighed again and pulled them on.

Jenny laughed. "That's what you get for chasing that guy."

At the start of the week, Vivian had chased down a pick pocket. The hustle had been much applauded the next day at parade, but Vivian swore her uniforms still reeked of sweat. Hadn't Gail threatened death once on the inventor of the uniforms? They did suck. "You should be glad I don't play your game, Aronson," joked Vivian.

Lara elbowed her. "Are you wearing spandex under your pants, Peck?"

Vivian looked down. "The pants chafe."

The other two women shared a look. "I can't tell if you're a genius or insane," said Lara at length.

"Well. I'm a Peck. In general, the answer is both." She pulled her shirt on and buttoned it up before tucking it in.

As she zipped her fly, McNally came in, still in her civvies. "Peck, Dov wants to see you in his office."

"Now?" She blinked and grabbed her gear belt.

"Now. Leave the belt."

That didn't sound good. Vivian hung her belt up and closed her locker, clipping her tie on as she hustled to Dov's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Her sergeant was typing on his laptop furiously. "Close the door."

And that sounded worse. "Sir?"

"I need a favor." He closed the laptop and looked up at her. "Can you take a squad to ThirtyFour and pick up Chris?"

Chris. His son? She blinked. "Chris who I used to babysit? He's at ThirtyFour?" Division ThirtyFour was the third leg in the triad of Divisions where Gail oversaw Organized Crimes. Fifteen was smack in the middle, the numerical position of which had always confounded Holly. The only person Vivian really knew from ThirtyFour was Det. Anderson, who was annoying but amusing.

"He's in lockup. They agreed to sign him to anyone from Fifteen. Pick him up, bring him here, and then look the other way when I kill him."

Well. That was bad and not her fault. "Are you asking me as Uncle Dov or my boss?"

That surprised Dov. "Why?"

"Because one's an abuse of power and one's going to make my moms laugh at dinner."

Dov scowled. "This feels like a lose-lose situation for me."

"Generally speaking, that's how it goes with Pecks." She smiled and fixed her tie. "What did Chris do?"

"Possession. He says its not his."

Given how Chris nearly shat himself the last time he got caught with drugs, Vivian would have no problem believing that. "It's probably not, you know."

Dov shook his head. "I don't know. And he won't tell me." He looked at Vivian carefully. "I'm hoping the weirdo he looks up to might wheedle that out of him."

In surprise, Vivian pointed at herself. "Chris looks up to me?"

"He has a crush on you," grinned Dov.

"Ew. Still gay. Also he's still jail bait, and I used to babysit him, so double and triple ew." She shuddered.

He smiled at her. "Vivian, weird daughter of my best friend, and please don't tell Gail I said that. I need a favor from you as your beloved Uncle Dov who let you practice shooting. Please pick my son up and find out what the hell he was doing with a dime bag of weed?"

Vivian sighed. She knew what her moms would do. Gail would bitch and moan and then bend over backwards to help a friend. Holly wouldn't hesitate and would give Gail a look for even the false protests. She knew why Dov overreacted about weed, too. His brother Adam had died of an overdose long before Vivian was born. On top of that, Chris Diaz had been in NA the whole time she'd known him. There was only thing to say. "What cruiser?"

"1503."

"I will hold this over you one day, Uncle Dov."

Dov looked relieved. "Thank you. Don't worry about your assignment today. When you get back, we'll sort it out."

As long as she wasn't stuck on foot patrol on the hottest day of the year, it would be okay. "Fine, but you will owe me."

"You are your mother's daughter."

"Thank you," she laughed and went back to the lockers to grab her gear and collect her boss's kid.

Frankly it was better, and less aggravatingly hot, than being outside. It gave her time to think about the shit with Liv at least. After a week of phone tag, she'd finally gotten an hour with Matty to talk about the whole thing. While he lived miles and miles away in New York, they still talked and texted all the time. They were as close as they'd been since he'd been beaten up in school, distance or not. It constantly confounded Gail, who watched them pick up the middle of conversations after weeks of not talking.

Usually Matty was on Vivian's side with stupid things like kissing girls. And as soon as she told him she hadn't kissed back, he was supportive of her. But his advice was to keep her lips the hell away from Liv until she wanted to talk. It was good advice, and she stuck by it, made easier since Olivia was avoiding her.

Girls were so confusing. At least she was just going to pick up a teenager who had a mild crush on her. Boys like Chris were super easy. Smile at them and they'd do almost anything. Now all she had to do was figure out what the kid had done, and either tell Dov or steer Chris safe. Probably steering. Dov had a habit of overreacting about drugs, which was understandable and justifiable, but it always made Chris stubborn and recalcitrant.

Oh. Family.

The smell of her work rarely bothered her. It wasn't that she'd gone nose blind either. Holly just didn't mind the smell of death, decomposition, or anything of those ilk. Smells were smells. Anyone who spent any time in the morgue was used to that and was prepared for it.

Of course, the rookies needed warnings. Well. The rookie.

After giving the the usual lecture on how to deal with the lab, she picked up a jar of lemon scented Vaseline. "If the smell gets to be too bad swipe this under your nose."

Officer Volk, whom Vivian had described as being observant and clever, looked worried. "It can smell worse?"

McNally laughed. "Oh you have no idea. We had a liquefied body once, splashed all over Peck and Price."

Smiling fondly, Holly put the jar down by them. "How do you always remember those things?"

"We're cops," noted McNally, swiping some Vaseline on her upper lip. "Trust me here, Volk. If Dr. Stewart breaks out the jar, you want it."

Quickly Volk took a finger full and swiped her lip. "Peck?"

"Not your Peck," explained the older cop. "We have a lot of them."

As she pulled on her gloves, Holly asked, "How's that donut fine going?"

"Wait that's a real thing?" Volk startled. "Peck- Vivian said you had to have at least one Peck in every division."

Holly laughed. Years ago, back before they'd been parents, Gail had made the joke about the donut fine. Since then all the Pecks had found it so hilarious, they'd enforced it. "Really? You let her get away with that, Andy?"

"It's not like we actually have a lot of control of her."

Well. That was to be expected. "How's she really doing?"

"Except the part where Dov's always on her case to know everything, pretty good. She's off running some mystery errand for him this morning."

That seemed unfair. Shaking her head, Holly picked up a pair of tweezers. "I'm sorry... How do you know ... You're talking about Vivian Peck?" Volk looked absolutely lost.

Holly glanced up. "Oh. She's my daughter. Apparently when you're a Peck, you end up a cop, even if your mother's the chief medical examiner." The expression on Volk's face was close to a shocked fish. She was startled and confused even more than she had been before. Those Pecks and their games. Gail and Vivian were still enjoying keeping it a secret, and far be it from Holly to spoil their fun. "I didn't change my name when I got married."

Nodding as if she was starting to understand, Volk kept her mouth closed tightly. This was a smart one. "Sorry," chuckled McNally. "I've know the doc for ... Twenty years now? She came to my wedding."

"And we threw the divorce party," noted Holly. Though mostly because they had the biggest backyard. "So. Where did you find this guy?"

At McNally's jostle, Volk pulled her notepad out. "Junkyard. He was... The owner ... Um. What parts are important?"

"Don't care about motive. Set the scene for me," Holly smiled. She did care about motive in the long run. Just not right now.

Volk did a good job not puking as they went over the remains, explaining what happened. A head, torso, one arm and one leg. The body had been chewed up by a car crusher. Apparently he'd not quiet been dead, but the man working the yard had realized someone was in the car too late. Holly explained how you could tell from the injuries and the motor oil what had happened and when and where.

And she could tell that the man was already dead, so no they had not ground up a living person. "Wait, the owner said he heard the guy." Volk scowled.

"People hear things all the time," McNally noted. "It could have been metal, and as soon as he saw blood, his brain decided it was a person. How do you know he was dead before he was crushed, Doc?"

"The blood," smiled Holly. "Exsanguination post mortem rarely occurs when the body is no longer pumping blood out. It can coagulate, though not particularly quickly on hot days like we've had this month. The way it's collected in his body, such as it is, tells me he's been dead a couple days."

Of course, Andy knew that. She was asking on Volk's behalf like a good TO. "Can you tell how he died?"

"Curiously yes. Someone crushed in his skull." She tilted the head and showed them the back. "Rather squishy."

There was a thud and Holly stood to look over the table. "One vomit, one passed out. Viv's screwing our score. We'll never get a clean sweep," sighed Andy. "I can't believe she snuck in."

Holly smiled and sat back on her stool. "Ah, the good old days when I though my child might have a bright career in the sciences."

"She got that degree in engineering." Andy went and got a damp towel and patted Volk's face with it. "Do you still keep smelling salts down here?"

When Holly told the story to Gail at lunch, her wife laughed. "Damn, I had Volk pegged as strong one. How'd Christian do?" They were enjoying a nice meal on the couch in Holly's office, overlooking the steaming city.

Taking a bite of salad, Holly waggled a hand. "Wanda said he threw up after. Guys try so hard to not puke in front of pretty girls."

"Wanda's still a lesbian cougar hunter," chuckled Gail. "It's weird how many people we know are lesbians."

"Wanda's an equal opportunity cougar hunter," smiled Holly. "She went after Swarek once."

"Ew... And now I'm not hungry."

"Oh so I can have your avocados?" Holly reached over with her fork and Gail scowled, moving her bowl away. Laughing, Holly reached over again and stole a kiss and an avocado slice.

Gail sighed dramatically. "You're lucky I love you, Dr. Stewart." She smiled brightly when Holly transferred an avocado from her bowl to Gail's. "Thank you, baby."

They leaned against each other, comfortable. "What errand for Dov was our kid running?" When Gail didn't answer right away, Holly added, "Andy leaked."

"Damn her, my weak link," muttered Gail. "Little Chris got caught with weed. Dov... Well you know why." She did. She had heard the story from Dov when explaining why Chris' middle name was Adam. "He asked Viv to pick him up and try to get the story out of him."

Holly snorted. "Well that's stupid." Like Steve, Vivian hoarded her secrets well and never shared them. "She won't tell him anything."

Slipping her arm around Holly's waist, Gail hummed. "I suspect that's why he asked her. Part of him doesn't want to know." Holly knew that was likely. It was one of the many agreements and deals the parents did for each other. Friends helped with each other's kids. "Speaking of, Olivia's dodging my calls. Think our kid pissed her off?"

"Ever think she's just ditching you, oh humble one? The awkwardness of talking to her ex-girlfriend's mom who is rather intense..." Holly smiled and kissed Gail's cheek. "How long do you have?"

Gail checked her watch. "Not much. Judge Wu is like a clock. He said he'd have a decision by 1pm."

Taking Gail's wrist, Holly eyed the time. "No time, honey. There's construction on Dunn." She patted Gail's leg. "Skedaddle, wife. I'll see you tonight?"

Her wife got up and leaned in for a real kiss. "If I get out early enough, I'll make dinner."

Holly smiled. "Wednesday." Predictably, Gail grimaced. "Batting cages and Vietnamese food."

"I do find your buns lovely," sang Gail as she left Holly's office. She also left the dishes for Holly to clean up. That was her wife alright, sighed Holly.

Maybe she should have told Dov what Chris had said. That was Vivian's only explanation for why he'd stuck her with Duncan Moore and tasked them with investigating junkyards. Which meant on foot, outside, in August. And it smelled. Asshat.

But. She'd promised Chris she wouldn't tell his parents the story, politely asked the Pecks at ThirtyFour not to press charges, and dragged him back to Fifteen. Vivian would have to sort that out later. Because just dealing with the avoidance of Olivia wasn't enough. Sometimes life loved dumping shit on you. It had been the right thing to do, too, what Chris had done. They weren't his drugs, and for fuck's sake it was weed. He did give her the names so Vivian could later stop by the school and scare the shit out of the kids.

Duncan fell loudly, jarring her out of her thoughts. "Damn this place is filled with junk." He had been clambering over the cars, screwing around and basically doing the things that made Gail call him Gerald. Still.

"Its a junkyard, Duncan," she muttered, looking around and tugging at her collar. They had to look for bodies since Lara and Andy had found a dumper in a car being crushed that morning, not five minutes into patrol. That meant as soon as she rolled back to Fifteen, Vivian was stuck with Moore and a junkyard while Lara got a rush job on an autopsy because the car happened to be one in a car accident of a semi-famous actor the year before. Yay.

"That's Moore to you," the older officer grumbled.

Smiling, Vivian snapped off a salute. "Yes sir, Officer Moore, sir." She paused. "You've got something on your pants."

Swearing as he brushed his pants off, Duncan shook his leg. "Do you have something to wipe it off with?" He stared at his hands, coated in something nasty. And smelly, even from this distance. "This shit is gross."

"Nasty, no. Maybe the owner does." She wrinkled her nose. It was really smelly. That smelled like ... That smelled like Holly after a nasty case, before she got the lemon scented soap out. The smell-memory caused her to stop in her tracks. "What were you climbing on?"

"That 'cuda," waved Duncan.

A green Barracuda. Why did they always paint them green? She walked over to the Plymouth and spotted a boot print on the bumper. "That's not right," she muttered. "Hey, Dun- Moore. You wear normal shoes, right?"

"What?" He looked confused.

"Standard issue patrol shoes," she snapped, impatiently.

Duncan startled. "You sound like your mom."

"Duncan," growled Vivian.

"What? Yes, standard issue shoes. What does that have to do with this crap on my leg."

"It's organic, Duncan," she told him and lifted her foot to double check. That was not the same print. "It's evidence, too. Don't brush it off." Pulling out her phone, she took a photo and then dug a glove out of her thigh pocket. "I'm so going to regret this," she muttered and opened the door to the half smashed 'cuda.

The smell of rotting corpse. In August. Jesus. For the first time since putting on the uniform, Vivian's stomach roiled. That was disgusting.

"Holy crap," muttered Duncan, coming up behind her. "Dispatch, 4271 this is officer Moore. We got a 10-45. Same type as this morning."

Dispatch crackled on both the radios. "4271, dispatch. Can you confirm, the MO?"

Duncan looked at Vivian. "Check his head?"

She nodded and pulled the glove on, reaching in. Instinct had her checking the pulse first. Then she touched the back of his head. Ew. Ew. Ew. "Yeah. Head bashed in," Vivian said quietly and moved away from the car.

They were still there when the forensics team showed up. Headed by none other than her mother. "Officers," greeted Holly, eying Vivian carefully.

"Doc," greeted Duncan, looking miserable. Vivian could understand that. She was just hot and annoyed. "Where do ya want my pants?"

Holly blinked. "Excuse me? Duncan, why do I want your pants?"

"Oh. Sorry. They're evidence." He pulled at the side of his pants. "Got ... What'd you call it, Peck?"

"Organic." Vivian held up an evidence bag with a rubber glove in it. "There's a footprint on the bumper and prints on the handle. I took photos and I used the edge of the handle when I opened the door."

Taking the bag, Holly smiled. "Same head injury?"

At that, Vivian shrugged. "It matches the description. Back of the head smashed."

Snapping her gloves on, Holly sighed. "That's all we have." Over the years, Holly had worked dozens of cases with the back of the head bashed in. All took place near cars, all unsolved. Two decades and no one had made sense of the case. Sometimes her moms would talk about it, how it was frustrating.

Holly opened the door and tilted her head. The head was on the far side of the car. Vivian could reach it easily. But Holly glanced back at Vivian, who was standing with her hands in her pockets, trying to exude the casual cop vibe of her blonder mother. There was something weird about Holly's expression as her eyes traversed Vivian from sole to top of her head.

Sometimes Vivian forgot that she was just over two inches taller than Holly's 5'9", a hair under being actually six feet. Those two inches of reach made a big difference. Her mother couldn't reach the back of the guy's head, while she could.

"Something wrong, boss?" Holly's assistant sounded worried.

"Can we get to the other side? I can't reach in without disturbing evidence."

The assistant looked surprised. "But the cop..." He looked at Vivian and blinked. "Oh. Huh. Can we?"

"I didn't check," admitted Vivian. "I cleared the scene, but I wasn't looking for easy access." She had done her best to make sure everything was safe. The last thing Vivian wanted was for Gail to yell at her about putting Holly in danger.

Holly shrugged. "We're going to have to bring the car anyway. Okay, let's get some evidence collected. Duncan, take your pants off and bag 'em. We've got some scrubs. Shoes too. Viv-" And Holly paused. "Vivian, do you have anything on you?"

"No, ma'am," replied Vivian with a smile. Her mother had been deliberating on what to call her. "He has a tuque."

"In August?" Holly looked amused and glanced at Duncan, who was in short sleeves. So was Vivian for that matter. Only Gail made a point to never wear short sleeves in uniform, but she also had two colors: vampire and lobster.

Vivian nodded. "Kinda weird, right? He's warm, but that doesn't mean anything."

Her mother laughed. "Hardly." Holly directed her minions around while Vivian radioed in the update. It was novel to watch her mother work. She'd seen Gail at work a few times, but Holly in the field was new and enlightening.

Field work of this sort was cool and interesting. Holly zoned out and was completely invested in the body, checking lividity and stiffness. She took samples and recorded information into her phone. The few times Vivian had been allowed to watch Holly work, it had been lab work. Watching the various machines scan things and the way her mother read them and understood them so quickly was amazing. It was even more impressive to see it in person. Holly was scientific brilliance distilled in human form.

Taking her own phone out, Vivian took a photo of Holly and sent it to Gail.

The forensic tech, LaFaire, came up to her. "Hey, little Peck. Money, drugs, and now a DB? Fun times!"

"You know me, LaFaire. Nothing but fun." She gripped her belt and shifted her weight, trying to project an aura of calmness and reliability. "How long do you think he's been dead? I mean, he smells."

"He was closed up in a car," laughed LaFaire. "Besides, that's the Doc's area of expertise. I'm collection." The man stepped up to the car. "Hey, Dr. Stewart. Ready for me?"

Holly backed out. "Start with under the car, please." Stiffly, Holly stretched and watched as LaFaire started to collect evidence from under the car.

It wasn't until nearly sunset that Vivian made it back to the station. Duncan had gone back with Rich, leaving Vivian with Kellerman, one of the myriad TOs who cropped up in the years Gail had been upstairs. He wasn't so bad, but he'd talk your ear off and was always drinking protein shakes.

Escaping Kellerman, Vivian pulled her phone out to check on her parents. The text from Gail said they were at the batting cages and Vivian should meet them there for a round and dinner.

"Right," she laughed. "It's Wednesday."

McNally poked her head around the lockers. "Wednesday night is batting cages? Still?"

"Still," smiled Vivian. "And Vietnamese food after, if we eat out." They were a model of consistency.

"I can drop you off there. It's on my way home."

"That'd be awesome, thank you," she exhaled. "I keep thinking it's cool to come to work with Mom and then I get stuck."

Laughing, McNally nodded her understanding. "She was always talking boys into driving her home."

Weird to think of Gail as dating men. She shook her head, trying not to think of Gail being romantic with Nick or anyone else besides Holly. It was just weird. "I guess they're simpler..."

"She was straight back then," smirked Andy, toweling her hair dry. "Going to grab a shower here?"

Vivian plucked at her uniform shirt. "No, not if I'm going to the cages," she decided. She was just going to get sweaty again. Giving her uniform a sniff test, Vivian winced. They needed another wash. Whomever came up with the cotton-poly blend needed to die. Preferably slowly and painfully while wearing said blend.

"These are not your leftovers," muttered Steve, sniffing the Tupperware.

"Are too," countered Gail. "My mini fridge, my food. Perks of the office, brother dearest."

"I mean this isn't your cooking." He closed the box and put it back. "If I'm raiding your fridge for lunch, I should get your cooking, little sister."

Gail smiled and scratched her chin. "Sorry, it was batting night."

Her brother sat down on the couch, smiling. "I can't believe Holly still gets you to do that."

"There are bennies to being married to a sporty lady."

Even though she was capable at sports, Gail encouraged Holly's corrections on her stance and swing. Mostly because it meant she had Holly's arms around her. And after the cages, they'd shower and Gail could massage Holly's back and shoulders, rubbing in lotion and listening to her wife complain about getting old.

Not that Gail would tell Holly that she enjoyed the batting cages, but she did sometimes. She liked the day of the week where her family got together to do something they all did enjoy. They didn't always make it out. While Gail never missed a week of shooting, not even when she'd broken her ribs or her hand, the batting cages had sometimes lost to cases or school or illness.

That week, however, they had all managed to get there. Vivian had made it not too late, catching a ride from Andy. She had a fun tale to tell about Gerald losing his pants, which Holly embellished as he'd been stuck with her as evidence for hours while Vivian got to supervise the extraction.

The case itself was annoying and likely to go on Holly's list of unsolved head bashings. Three or five times a year, it cropped up again. They'd never solved it. They never had any leads. Someone would be dead, in a hat no matter the weather, with their head bashed in, near a car.

It was quite maddening.

It also was not the case she and her brother were working on. She propped her feet on her desk and asked him, "What's the status on the Hill takeover?"

Steve grimaced. "Pretty much locked up. Since Chloe picked up that idiot Arana, we got more information on the situation. The botched deal at the apartment, the one those rooks were supposed to be watching, it was their last ploy."

"They're that hard up?"

"Lost a lot of their territory to Three Rivers in the last five years."

Gail scowled. "How did we miss that?"

"They didn't do it the usual ways. They've been slowly picking up smaller gangs, folding them in without putting their name on things. Wasn't till this last year they came out of the shadows and consolidated."

That was incredibly brilliant. "Are they being run by some businessman?"

Steve laughed. "I think so, actually. The Anton Hill takeover is ... Well. It's smart. They get the territory and the drug access."

"Can't believe they're doing that again." She put her feet down and fired up her laptop. "Who's in charge?"

"And that's my problem, sister. Not a damn clue. Arana rolled over on Hill's folks but he's as smart as a bag of wet hair." Gail laughed at him and Steve smiled. "I need your okay to ship him off to Manitoba for a while."

Protection. She nodded. "Sure. Paperwork?"

"Send it when I get downstairs."

They both sighed. "Okay. What are your next steps?"

Steve ran a hand through his grey, thinning, hair. "Follow my leads to find the new home base of Three Rivers. See if I can follow them upstream. They've been working as separate, small, units for so long, they've damn near perfected the system. I can pick out one or two, but they have dozens."

Not a great thing for the cops. "Keep at it. I'll get you whatever resources I can. The last thing the mayor wants is for Toronto to be a major drug centre for North America."

"I'll try to leave that to New Jersey," smirked Steve. "Dinner at your place next Thursday? Third Thursday."

Gail rolled her eyes. "This is your excuse to eat my cooking."

"My baby sister has hidden talents. I've seen your sugar flowers." Steve gave her a winning smile.

"And what would you like for your sixtieth birthday, Captain Spaz?"

Her brother spluttered. "That is two years away, you brat. And I plan to retire before then."

It was impossible not to look hurt. She felt hurt. "You're really doing it?"

"One more year," nodded Steve. "Uncle Eli's offer is too good. Less work, less stress." He looked at his hands. "You should think about it too, you know. Imagine all the time you could spend with Holly."

"Not yet," she replied, softly.

Steve shook his head. "Keep an eye on not yet, Garbage Pail. Don't let it be too late."

She knew what he meant and smiled. "I want to get out alive, Ginger."

They shared a look. "The pale fails reign supreme," agreed Steve.

Indeed they did.

After Steve left, Gail put the projection of her case notes up in the wall. Technology that she had only dreamed of twenty years ago was real now. The wall was just a monitor that had clear glass, safe to write on with a dry erase marker, covering it. Stupid brilliant. That she could double tap the glass and have it copy her handwriting into notes on the computer, or drag and drop boxes, was the epic stuff made of dreams.

Gail stared at the notes for Three Rivers. Her timeline was filled with questions. When she'd been a rookie in Major Crimes, she'd taken them apart when they'd been in the midst of an internal take over. "Out with the old, Bobby Z." She stared at his name on the far left. They had epically failed taking on the mafia type folks. Body drops.

She smiled and stepped down the timeline. Minor flirts with the law here and here. Drugs, all minor. Guns. Ditto. Then they fell off the radar around the time Vivian was twelve. That must have been when they branched out into minor groups. Gail scribbled that on her wall and tapped it. That gave them over a decade of practice, hiding their true goals.

"Take small gangs and let them keep their names. Not stupid," she muttered. That had, in part, been their problem last time. They pushed their new names and agendas on to the old crew and cause dissension in the ranks. Tapping her lip, Gail frowned. "Of course you have to be damn brilliant to keep that many small groups in line, going the same direction."

She'd been struggling with three divisions. But they were fairly large, and one had been corrupt, so it wasn't a shock that they were reluctant to a Peck Takeover. When you had that many balls to juggle, you screwed up and dropped them. Which was how a baby rookie accidentally caught them on her first day.

Gail stared at the wall. Steve had a short list of some of the gangs that were a part of the Three Rivers Conglomerate.

"What we need are the little guys," Gail decided. She picked up her phone and tapped Chloe's number. Technically Chloe too worked for her, under the Organized Crime auspice.

"Hey Gail," sang Chloe. "What's up?"

The last thing Butler had told her was to always set the tone. Be the voice you wanted to hear back. Gail pulled her most professional one. "Price. I'm going to need some of your guys to go undercover and get into small gangs. Find out how they feed back to Three Rivers. These might be long ops."

Chloe was quiet for a moment. "Just when I thought things were getting a little too rote around here," she laughed. "Can I have next week to plan it out?"

Speed would make them fuck up. Also it was Thursday. "Take till the end of the month," she decided. "I want this plan locked and solid. Your best guys."

And her best asset in undercover ops sounded unusually serious. "You got it."

Now all they needed was that in.

The Don River Forks. It was a semi popular walk along the Don Rivers. It started along the West Don, crossed the East, and then passed the Forks, where the two joined into the Lower Don. This part of the Don Valley looked like crap. Industrialized. The research online told her it flooded a lot.

The trail on the website cited it as a mere 6 kilometers, so Vivian tightened her sneakers and took off down the marked path. She could easily make the run down the trail and back in 45 minutes, even with time for looking around and seeing who the people were. Running while looking was different than running for fun, and she knew it would take her a little longer than her normal pace (which was around 3.5 minutes per kilometer, and yes, Gail hated her for it).

Her plan was simple. Go for a run, get a feel for the area. See the people around, and probably come up empty. But hey. It was her theory. The gang had started here. It was a stupid theory, but Gail had chased a stupid theory about ambulances and that led her to this same gang and a whole career. Not that Vivian wanted to be in Major Crimes. It didn't thrill her.

And as expected, she didn't find a damn thing. It was nice, normal, and people said hello to her on her run. No lurking gangs, or kids skulking around, or anything like that. The way the place got washed out every time it rained, Vivian suspected there wouldn't be any secret lairs or bases like they had out by the cottage.

Her parents were going up to the cottage later that month, alone. And Vivian was jealous of them. "God, I need a date," she muttered and slowed to a walk as she hit the parking lot. She'd kind of dated a girl when she'd been in the Academy, but that had lasted about as long as it took for her to find out Vivian was really going to be a cop.

Logging her run on her watch, Vivian unlocked her car to drive to work. She could shower there and not have to deal with Gail's increasingly direct comments about how Liv was avoiding them. The engine made a terrible noise. Provided her car would start.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She cranked the engine. No go. Shit. The crapmobile, which was actually a damned awesome detective kitted out Dodge, was finally dying. Vivian popped the hood and stared at the engine long enough to know a lost cause. She could do most minor repairs on her car, but this was nothing she knew by sound.

One short call to CAA, one long tow to her mechanic's, and one medium wait for the shop to actually open, resulted in Vivian wheedling a quick check on what had happened. "You won't like it," said the mechanic as he wrapped up.

"Sing me the song of your people, Tad," she sighed. He handed her a piece of paper. Vivian read it and winced. "Damn it, I just got those tires!" Of all the things they'd warned her about the last time she'd been in, the computer failing was not something she'd expected. But apparently it was dead, and it would be thousands to replace.

"I know. Have you thought about selling her?"

Vivian eyed him. "I'm not against the idea."

Tad nodded. "See, the parts you need are more than I could get you for the parts you got. She's a money pit. But your car has a lot of high end parts from the original maker. And those are hard to get."

She nodded back. "So you want to buy my car for parts. What about the tires?"

"Them too," he smiled. "Do you have time to crunch numbers?"

Looking at her watch, Vivian sighed. "Let me make a call first."

Somehow she managed to get to work before parade and with the check in hand. God maybe felt pity on her. If God was inclined to help a daughter of an agnostic and an atheist who was possibly the anti-Christ.

"What happened to you?" Jenny asked it. She and Lara were dressed before Vivian had rushed through her shower, but they both stuck around.

"Car died," grumbled Vivian, pulling on her clothes as fast as she could. "Dead dead, too."

Lara winced. "No wheels. Did you get scrap for it?" Vivian nodded, yanking her black undershirt on. "Maybe you can pick one up at the auction?"

Sadly the next auction was at the end of the month. She could wait for a month, catching rides with people and her mom, but Vivian felt like she needed a change. "Yeah, maybe," she grumbled.

Jenny patted Vivian's shoulder. "Check the board? I think Collins is selling his car."

That was an option too, though Vivian wasn't sure she wanted another used car. She did look and was startled. Nick wasn't selling his car, he was selling his bike. In specific, he was selling his relatively new motorcycle. This was the one he'd gotten just a couple years ago. Vivian had learned to ride on his previous bike, a skill Holly and Gail insisted she master so they could rent motorcycles in Greece. That had been awesome.

And she realized right away that she could never get away with buying it.

Even if she managed to talk Nick about buying it, he would never sell it to her. Why? He was just too afraid of her mother. With good reason, of course, Gail was terrifying. And Nick had left her at the altar, so he had a lot to fear from an angry Gail Peck. But. Damn it, the bike felt like such a cool thing.

Her life, she'd tried to be normal. Boring even. Because no one looked deeply at the boring, normal, girl. Maybe she didn't have to be boring. She could be a quiet, introspective, motorcycle rider. That was practically expected. Lesbians on motorcycles were a thing.

But, damn it, he'd never sell to her. And he wasn't even at the station.

She made it into parade with time to spare, though not much, and Vivian found herself paired with McNally for a change. "Grab your gear, Peck. We're in 1509."

For whatever reason, Vivian hadn't yet run with Andy McNally, which was odd. This was her fourth month as a cop and she'd ridden with half a dozen TOs, but not Andy McNally. "You're running late," teased McNally.

"My car finally died." She dropped into the passenger seat. "Where's Nick- Sorry, where's Collins?"

McNally's face screwed up. "Family stuff."

She knew Nick was an orphan. Vaguely Vivian recalled Nick's older brother was named Finn. She'd actually met him once, when Nick had called Holly, of all people, to help him sort out his drunk, wheelchair bound brother. Teen Vivian had been in the car and sworn to silence about the matter. Not that Gail didn't know about Finn. She'd been the only person not surprised to hear about him decades past.

Best not to speak up about that. "Oh. I thought it was why he's selling his bike."

Her TO's face lit into a smile. "No! He lost a bet with me about it." And McNally told a convoluted (even by McNally standards) story about how Nick and Andy had a deal with the bike and he could keep in provided he meet certain criteria. "But he took Aronson to autopsy last week."

Vivian laughed. She knew that Jenny had booted right there in autopsy. "I bet he says you cheated by making me and Rich go with Duncan."

"He did," admitted McNally, with her big grin flashing. "But don't ask about buying it. Your mom would kill me."

Snorting, Vivian looked at the street. "Which one?"

"Both." They shared a look and laughed.

But it gave Vivian an idea. At lunch, she stopped in the bank and deposited her check. And she took out a cashier's check for the amount of Nick's bike. No negotiations. She had the money, thanks to what was left from her grandparent's estate. It was the only money she had, besides her salary, that was hers to do whatever she wanted without judgement.

Technically she had the trust fund as well, which had only been used for college. That money was Peck money. Armstrong money. In her case, it worked out the same way. Either way, it had a hell of a lot of strings attached to it, from both her moms (who had clear parent ideas about how that money should be spent) and her great-uncle Eli (who had sat her down for a lecture about where the money came from when she'd changed her name). She didn't have the majority of the money yet, either. That wouldn't happen until 25. Two more years.

Buying a motorcycle would be frivolous and wasteful. Holly hadn't been pleased that Vivian had bought a car at sixteen, but hadn't argued about it. That said, Gail thought it was sensible, had it not been Steve's old car. Sometimes it was hard to tell what would annoy her moms or not.

She just ... Vivian just needed a change. She didn't want to run off and be someone else, or make an emergency situation and scare them off. She wasn't up a tree. And hey, that metaphor finally made sense! Vivian wasn't her mothers. Of course she would always see them in her, which was awesome, but she needed to be her own person in a different way.

All she had to do was just convince someone to do her a favor. It couldn't be Christian, everyone would know that was for her. Vivian grabbed the sheet off the notice board, hoping no one noticed, and shoved it in her pocket. Maybe one of the older officers who knew her... Except the all were afraid of Gail too. She needed someone who didn't know Gail or Holly, but would still do her a favor.

As she stood in the hallway, mulling her options, she spotted Lara carrying files. "Hey, Volk, c'mere."

"Hey, how's riding with McNally?"

Vivian blinked. "Oh, fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

Shrugging, Lara put her files down. "You just looked sneaky and Collins got in all grumpy... Thought maybe they were having a domestic."

Interesting where people went. "Nick's here?" She felt a smile cross her face.

Lara stepped back. "Okay. Now you look evil. Like... Like Parent Trap evil."

Actually, Vivian had done that as a child. She'd managed to get her parents up to the cottage to rekindle the romance. "No. No, look, remember I said my car died?"

"Sure," nodded Lara. And Vivian pulled Nick's for-sale sheet out of her pocket. "Hey! That's a cool idea."

"Yeah, but I have a problem. See, I need you to buy it for me. I can give you a cashier's check right now, but I can't buy it from Collins."

Shrewd Lara studied Vivian's face. "You can't buy it?"

Vivian gave her some of the truth. "Because Nick knows my Mom and he'll never sell it to me."

That seemed to make sense to Lara. "So you want me to buy the bike from Nick and then just give it to you?" When Vivian nodded, Lara grimaced. "Why me?"

God, why did she have to be so nosy? "Because Nick would know C was doing it for me. And Jenny would say no. And God help me, I'm not dealing with Rich and dykes on bikes jokes."

Her classmate quirked a smile. "Do you know how to ride?"

Ironically, Nick had taught her. "Yes." She pulled out her license and showed the motorcycle designation there. "Come on, I'll owe you." Vivian held up the check.

"Oh. A Peck will owe me?" Lara laughed and took the check. "You really want this bike, huh?"

Vivian looked up at the ceiling for a moment. How could she possibly break down her crap right now to a near stranger? She couldn't. "Yes. I really do."

Looking her in the eyes, Lara nodded. "Okay." She looked at the check and then Vivian. "But when I ask for my payback, it's going to come with a story. You can make if up if you want."

Smiling, Vivian said, "It'll involve unicorns."

"And princesses? Why Vivian Peck, I didn't know you had that in you!"

Her least favorite case was the kind she couldn't solve. Holly prided herself on her closed case numbers and with good reason. In her time as chief medical examiner, case closures had improved by 7.3%, and convictions due to her lab's work were up 11.8% compared to her predecessor.

It did help, having one of the best in Major Crimes at her beck and call. Her relationship with the officers on the force also helped a great deal and she knew it. But having that damn head bashing case show up, once or twice every year, drove her nuts.

Two on the same day, both in cars, in August. Both wearing the same knit caps. It was infuriating. There was never any evidence. The one time they'd managed to find a possible weapon, a tire iron with blood on it, it turned out to be an unrelated case. Whatever gang was running around bashing in heads for fun had been doing so for over thirty years.

Holly stared at her monitor and sighed. Once she'd posited that maybe the tuques were the clue, but they were random and varied. Then she'd tried the jackets, since all the crimes had victims wearing puffy jackets. All that had done was given her a lead on the summer crimes, which was why she knew the beatings went back to the early 2000s. Except she'd been able to find some possibly related crimes traipsing back into the 1980s and Holly had a feeling this was even older than that.

Stumped, yet again, Holly filed away her notes and checked her phone. It was time. She dialed St. Pats. "Dr. Stewart for Dr. Jacques, please." She waited until the phone clicked over. "Hey, Leon."

"Hi, Holly," said the man, his voice booming down the line. "You are on time like a clock."

She smiled at his cheerful tone. "You sound happy. Good news?"

"Depends on your point of view, I suppose. The infection's under control."

Holly exhaled. "Well that's good."

"He's not in good health, Holly. I know he's your friend but... How much do you want to know?"

She looked out her window. "He's my friend's brother, actually," Holly explained. "Tell me everything."

Her fellow doctor sighed loudly and gave her the breakdown on what was wrong with Finn Collins. He needed to stop drinking and he needed to be more active. His infection was from poor health care and cleaning habits, and he was barely healthy enough to have fought it off this long.

"We can keep him here for the month, but I would recommend full time care."

Holly closed her eyes. "How is he mentally?"

"You mean can I put him on a psych check?" Jacques sounded thoughtful. "You think the infection was intentional? A slow suicide? Sounds rather grotesque."

"We've both seen worse. Can you get someone to run an eval on him?"

"Of course. May I ask why you want me to keep him?"

"His brother's a police officer. That's an expense he may not be able to shoulder." And there was no way Nick would accept a dime from them. He was already unhappy about asking Holly to lean on her doctor friends just to get Finn treatment now.

Jacques ah'ed softly. "I see. I'll do what I can, Holly." Then he laughed. "You know, when you called me out of the blue, I thought it might be something else."

Holly laughed as well. "Like I'd finally found you a fifth wife?"

"Like you were quitting your tawdry job and coming back to real medicine?"

She snorted. "You and Lisa can shut up, Leon. I love my job."

They chatted for a while about their jobs and lives. Leon had four ex wives and three children. He was happy to talk to her about their shared experiences as parents. That Holly's kid was a cop was surprising, but Leon had met Gail and said he understood. His own children had no interest in being like him. He also gave Holly a great deal of information of what could be done.

Holly took the information with her down to Fifteen at the end of the day and found Nick, weirdly smiling. "Hey, you're happy."

"Sold my bike. Andy thinks it's that bet we had but..." Nick shook his head. "I think I can afford that assisted home." He looked at Holly, concerned. "How long do I have?"

"At least till the end of the month." She sat on his desk and held up a thumb drive. "Everything's on here, Nick. Take your time. Talk to Andy. I'll explain everything I can."

He nodded. "Okay. I just... You know, he's my brother."

She didn't know. She was an only child. "I get it," she said, not really a lie. Gail had been panicking lately, realizing that Steve was serious about retiring. It cut at Gail to be the last Peck from her era.

Nick nodded. "Thank you."

Reaching over, Holly patted his arm. "We're practically family, Nick. So. Who did you sell the bike to?"

"Volk," he beamed. "She talked me into throwing in the helmets and my top-box."

"Well it's not like you're going to use them," teased Holly.

"God you sound like Andy," he laughed. They glanced over as the rookies clamored through, Vivian in the middle. "She's doing good," Nick said softly.

Nodding, Holly watched her daughter awkwardly chatting with the other four rookies, scratching the back of her head just like Gail and Steve did when they were uncomfortable. "Its my job to worry," she replied, quietly.

The one thing that worried her about Vivian as a cop was her closed off nature. It had taken so long to get her to open up to Gail and Holly, but Viv had never mastered the casual friendship that most people made. She was unwilling to talk about herself to the general world, and while Holly knew why, it was still a little sad.

"How about we go look at the newbie on the motorcycle," offered Nick, pushing back from his desk.

Holly smiled. "Did you even check if she has a license?" When Nick looked stricken, Holly broke out laughing. "Oh now we have to go look."

She led Nick out to the parking lot and stopped in the doorway, Nick plowing into her. Holly barely heard Nick ask what was wrong as she stared at the motorcycle. The rookies were standing around watching the motorcycle do a slow circle. "Hey... That's not Volk."

It was not. Lara Volk was a little shorter than Holly. The woman on the motorcycle was closer to six feet tall and she was wearing a jacket Holly had bought for a trip to Vancouver. "No, it is not," Holly said darkly and stepped out to the lot, pulling out her phone and taking a photo. "You sold your bike to my daughter."

"I did not!" Nick hissed and leaned forward. "I sold it to Volk!"

But they watched as Lara took the second helmet and got on behind Vivian, calling her classmates suckers, and the two drove off. Holly scowled and texted Gail.

It ' s Thursday after work. Do you know where your daughter is?

A moment later, Gail replied.

Going to the Penny with friends and told me not to wait for her. Why do I feel like this is a trick question?

Holly sent the photo. It was Nick's phone that lit up a few moments later. "Yikes," he muttered. "I'm dead."

"That is a distinct possibility," sighed Holly. "I'll go talk to her." Inside the Division, she found Gail in her office, packing up for the day. "I think our child tricked him."

"Oh? So I only have to kill her?" The tone was one Holly knew. Gail wasn't really mad at Nick or Vivian. She was just surprised and Gail hated surprises.

Closing the office door, Holly walked up and looped her arms around Gail's neck. "Hey," she said softly.

Gail pouted. "She bought a motorcycle. Did you know her crapmobile died this morning?"

"No."

"When did she stop talking to us? First the whole thing with Liv, whatever the hell that is, and now a motorcycle?" Gail's hands found Holly's waist and she sighed, letting her head drop to Holly's shoulder.

Pressing her cheek to Gail's temple, Holly hummed thoughtfully. "We raised a smart, independent, capable, daughter, who doesn't like to talk about herself."

Gail sighed loudly. "I was going to the range."

"Have you been this week?"

"No."

Holly nodded and kissed her forehead. "You go shoot things. I'll make dinner. Chicken, Brolio, roast vegetables." She let go of Gail and cupped her cheeks. "Don't yell at Nick too much."

For a moment, Gail looked crushed. Then she leaned in to kiss Holly's lips. "Thank you," she said softly.

By the time Gail got home, she seemed to be back into a better head place. They didn't wait for Vivian, knowing she was probably stalling to get home, and sat on the back deck with plates of chicken and wine. They didn't talk about family or work, but other things. Holly showed Gail a new meme she'd found, Gail told Holly about a song her new transfer sang in the car when they went to check on a case.

They talked about a plan to go up to the cottage without their kid, which made Gail hesitate. "She's probably going to move out soon."

Holly blinked. "You think?"

"The motorcycle, the going out. I think she's figuring out who she is as an adult." Gail swirled her wine in the glass.

That was possible. "She's been struggling the last few years," agreed Holly. "Since she changed her name."

Gail sighed. "Life as a Peck is not what she thought."

"She changed her name, lost both her best friends, and started college. It's a lot for anyone, Gail. What were you doing at her age?"

Smiling, Gail put the wine down. "Let's see. Making a fool of myself trying to be cool at the Academy. Sleeping with Chris right after he'd broken up with Denise. Oh and lying to Dov about it. Brown nosing. Picking family over my 'friends.' The usual." She'd even made the air quotes. "And you, Miss Perfect?"

"That's Dr. Perfect. I didn't spend all that time at evil medical school just to be called Miss Perfect." She leaned back and looked over the back yard. "Sleeping with my TA, going to every single gay club I could, getting Lisa out of trouble, and ... Screwing around, mostly, while acing my boards."

Gail snorted. "Acing."

"Of the two of us, you're the one who made Dean's List," reminded Holly.

"Yeah, that does make me wonder about the merit of you being top of your class," Gail grinned and leaned over to kiss Holly softly. "What will life be like when our mini-human loves out?"

A fair question. They'd spent more of their life together with Vivian than without. "Quiet."

Smiling, Gail noted, "We can have sex with the door open."

"Interesting how that's your first thought," laughed Holly. "You can walk around naked again."

"Oh my god," groaned Gail. "The one time at Andy's!" But her eyes were laughing.

The garage door sounded and they both glanced inside. "Be nice."

Gail smiled. "I'm over it," she promised. "We're out back," she called to the main house.

A moment later, Vivian came outside with a plate of her own. "Hi."

"Hi," replied Gail, smiling sweetly. Holly pinched her arm. "What happened to the car?"

"The computer died." She sat opposite her parents and took a bite. "Good chicken mom," Viv said to Holly. She always knew.

Leaning against Gail, Holly smiled. "You're welcome." They didn't say anything else. Holly eyed Gail, who shook her head minutely. Oh. They were waiting Vivian out.

It wasn't too long before Vivian put down her knife and fork. "Okay, why are you mad?"

"Because you pulled one over on Nick without us," smiled Gail. Vivian blinked a little. "Come on, I know he wouldn't sell you the bike on his own. He's terrified of me and owes your Mom way too much."

Holly shook her head. "He sold it to Lara. Volk. The one who passed out."

Smiling her most malevolent grin, Gail kissed Holly. "I love that's how you remember them."

Making a face, Vivian pointed at her plate. "I'm eating here." Gail laughed and then got a perfectly evil look on her face. "What are you doing, Mom?"

Gail pulled her phone out. "I'm texting Nick and asking him not to tell McNally if he hasn't yet… You're going to drive to work on your own tomorrow, kid."

While Vivian complained she didn't want to be a part of Gail's hazing shenanigans, Holly just smiled. "Someone take photos for me." She wouldn't stop Gail's childishness even if she could.

Vivian heard the conversation as she turned off the engine. She'd known Andy for years and knew her voice well. "A new rookie on a motorcycle? So predictable."

"Isn't that Nick's?" That was her aunt Traci. Vivian could actually hear the smirk.

"Oh yeah, he sold it to…" Andy trailed off and Vivian glanced in her mirror. Lara was walking right by them. "Her… Hey, Volk. Didn't you buy Nick's bike?"

Lara looked at the bike and nodded. "I did. But I was… I was just the middle man."

In all likelihood, Holly would complain if she didn't get a photo. Vivian took her phone out and aimed it at McNally as she pulled off her helmet. Okay. Fine. The face was epic. Both Traci and Andy stood there with dropped jaws. Right away she sent the photo to her mothers. "Morning," she smiled at her aunts.

By the time she was on patrol, in another junkyard, with Coburn as her TO, her moms had texted back their delight. Nick had been true to his word and not told Andy about the bike. Apparently it was easier to lie to Andy than to disobey Gail. Though Vivian could understand that. Gail had an ability to be very intense sometimes.

That was why Vivian hadn't introduced her other girlfriends to her parents. They knew about the girls in general, but there was no reason to introduce people she knew she wasn't really serious about. Vivian had liked them and her parents could be complicated. Of course, they'd known about Pia the artist, and they'd almost met Skye twice. But her last girlfriend, bad sex and a wanna be open relationship who wasn't pleased that Vivian was going to be a cop, had gotten nowhere near her moms.

Ugh. She needed to stop dwelling on her sex life, or lack there of.

"See anything, Peck?" Coburn was okay to work with. He was pretty quiet, which Vivian appreciated. They were walking up and down the aisles of the junkyard, looking for more dead guys.

"Nada," she yawned.

Coburn grunted and they turned down another aisle. There were a surprising number of boring moments, being a cop. Paperwork was boring but easy. It took time, which was annoying as hell, but it rarely took brains. Patrol could be boring, and often was, when you walked and walked and nothing happened. Which made the subsequent paperwork super boring. But those were also good days. The alternative were days where she sprinted after idiots, or dug through garbage, or fell in puke... Which had happened twice now.

Today was boring and hot and annoying. The odds of running into another dead body was slim to none. The chances of a case that was going to be related the a two decade long head bashing was so unlikely as to be laughable. But there she was on a Friday, walking up and down the aisles of a junkyard. Looking.

By the time she got back to the station, she was sticky, sweaty, sure her uniform reeked, and wanted nothing more than to fall into the lake up at the cottage and freeze. Cottage. Shit. Vivian pulled her phone out and stared at the dates. Her parents were going to the cottage for some alone time next week.

Vivian grimaced and lay down on the bench.

"Uh oh," laughed Lara as she came in. "What happened to our silent eager beaver?"

"It's not easy being green," suggested Jenny, and Vivian snorted.

They had no idea how funny that was to her. Green. "I used to be Green," she mused. "But now I'm Peck."

There was a pause. "Are you drunk, Peck?"

"No. I have to drive home."

Lara sat down and leaned over to look at Vivian's face. "Have you always been a grown up, mature, responsible pain in the ass?"

Thinking about it for a moment, Vivian sighed. "Yes."

"Right," grumbled Lara. "Here's the deal. You need a night with the girls."

"Yeah, not driving home drunk, my mother would kill me." Both of them would. They might actually take turns, she realized.

Lara snorted. "You're an idiot. You, me, Jenny. We're going out. We'll hit up some bars. Dance with stupid boys. Get way too drunk, take a taxi home, and sleep."

Taxis. Huh. It was like tomatoes. Things she just didn't really do often. "I don't dance," noted Vivian, but she sat up.

"Because you're gay?" Jenny opened her locker. "I know a couple good gay bars."

"I went to one, count 'em, one dance as a kid," explained Vivian, taking her shoes off. "It did not end well." She didn't dance, she didn't sleep over. "I'm just really boring," she added.

"Clearly we need to de-boring our Peck." Lara clapped her shoulder. "Shower. Have a beer at the Penny."

Vivian grimaced. "I had a feeling I smelled."

"You're a special sort of stench right now, Peck," teased Jenny.

She did go to the Penny, though. It was the end of the week, after all, and the cases were at ends where the rookies weren't needed. The winner of Jenny's silly chart contest was Lara, with Vivian a reluctant but close second, for their discoveries of dead bodies and cars. Christian and Jenny had been on desk duty, while Rich had done checks on the elderly.

As loathe as she was to admit it, it was nice to hang out with them. She felt pretty normal for a change.

"So basically we all suck," decided Christian. "God, I want to go undercover." He put his head on the table.

"Cheer up," offered Vivian. "I heard there might be a sting op from sex crimes." That had been the news from Wet Peck, whose sister was in sex crimes. She was not called Sex Peck. That would have been too weird, even for the Pecks.

Jenny perked up. "You hear that from a good source?"

While Vivian nodded, Rich asked, "What does that have to do with us?"

It was Christian who explained. "If they're doing a sting on Johns, they need new faces. Viv, true up. Who's a better boy toy. Me or Rich?"

All three women studied the boys. "Christian," they said as one.

The look on Rich's face was hilarious. "You all suck," he complained. "Older ladies like me, and I bet Inspector Williams will pick me."

Vivian smirked. "She's married to Superintendent Best over in the big building."

That put a damper on it in Rich's mind, thank god. "Man are they all married? You said Detective Peck, the one on our floor, is married!"

But even Jenny knew this one. "Traci Peck? Yeah, she's married to the Peck up in in Guns and Gangs."

"Steve," offered Christian, smiling. Vivian kicked him under the table. "Also she's an Inspector."

"McNally's dating Collins," complained Rich. "Sgt. Price is married to Sgt. Epstein..." He went down the list of all the women over forty in the station and then ended with an unexpected one. "And that sexy blonde Peck with the short hair, who heads up OC, looks like she'd cut me alive."

Vivian somehow managed to stifle a laugh. "Inspector Gail Peck. She's married." This time, Christian kicked her under the table.

"Are there any single, mature, ladies?" The wail from Rich was positively hilariously.

"Dr. Ury, but she likes 'em older too," mused Vivian. "Oh, there's Officer Polo. She's single. So's Taft. She's divorced and on the rebound." Her classmates stared at her. "What? I pay attention."

"She doesn't talk much," Lara remarked. "But when she does, it's things I hadn't noticed. What is your secret, Peck?"

Oh. She had a couple good ones. Like her relationship with Liv. Or her parents. Or her birth parents. "I'm very boring," she said as flatly as possible. "I have to fill the void of my life with everyone else's."

Lara laughed. "Look, I just want something besides the stupid case that'll never get solved to think about."

Picking up a beer, Jenny frowned. "Never get solved? The whack-a-mole case?"

"Yeah, I heard Dr. Stewart and McNally talking about how it'd been recurring for decades." Lara shook her head. "Fucking nightmare. Going on at all the Divisions."

"Ain't that cheerful." Rich leaned back and downed his beer. "Alright ladies. I'm going hunting. Raaaaawr." He made claw at the collected rookies and left to go talk to an older woman at the bar.

Jenny sighed. "I'm having trouble believing he's real. Did he walk out of a catalogue?"

"Abercrombie Assholes from the 1990s?" Vivian smiled and sipped her beer. "He's actually a good cop."

"And I'm a drag queen," muttered Christian.

Vivian turned and looked at the bar. "It's true, C. And he's about to strike out."

The only man at the table laughed. "Who's he after?"

"Officer Luck from TwentySeven." Vivian picked up her phone and snapped a photo. "Jen's on the diversity whatever they call it. Team." In the brief moment of confused silence, Vivian sighed. "She's a lesbian."

They all watched Rich strike out and move on to the next person. "He's going to run through the Division soon," mused Lara. "You could take a note from that, though, Peck. Go out and live a little."

She had heard that before. Vivian shook her head. She tired like hell to avoid conversations like this. "When's the last time you went on a date Lara?"

That sufficiently distracted the gang enough to move on to the next part of the night, which was darts. At least Vivian could comfortably show off her talents at the dartboard. Safer than people poking at her personal life.

Kicking the foot of Vivian's door, Gail raised her voice. "Child. Get up. Laundry, mopping, brunch." No answer. That was rare. Gail opened the door and poked her head in to check. No Vivian. Even more rare. The bed was unmade, but that was normal lately. It drove Gail crazy, but she let it go.

"Hey, no snooping," chastised Holly as she walked by with their sheets.

"No child," noted Gail.

Holly dumped the sheets into the basket Gail held. "Twenty-three is not a child."

"She could have told us she wasn't coming home," grumbled Gail, stripping Vivian's bed and getting out fresh sheets, though those she just left on the bed. Vivian could make her own bed. "Nice ass."

Rolling her eyes, Holly went downstairs. "You are incorrigible, Gail."

"You're just really sexy," called back Gail, and she grabbed the towels from Viv's bathroom, taking it all down to the basement for a wash. On the way, she poked her head into the garage. No motorcycle.

Was it wrong to be worried that her kid was dead in a ditch somewhere? Gail started the laundry and went back to find her phone and check on where the phone said her daughter was. Moving on Queen's Quay. Okay, probably alive.

Holly caught her at it and shook her head. "What would you have done before phones?"

"Called Dispatch and asked for eyes on her. Why?"

"Stop being a Peck," sighed Holly, reaching over and taking the phone out of her wife's hands. "If a concerned parent came up to you and said their daughter was missing for 8 hours, and she was 24, what would you tell them?"

Sometimes memory was a brat. "I would have apologized and said it hadn't been long enough," muttered Gail. The name sprung into her brain. A memory of over twenty years ago. A dark and terrible day. "We found her though."

Holly eyed her. "Found…?"

"Gracie Alison Finn. Her dad came in after she'd been missing about 9 hours. She was Viv's age, 23. Kidnapped by Adam Sawyer." Gail plucked her phone back out of Holly's hand. She'd met Holly a scant month later.

"Honey..." Holly's face fell into one of understanding sadness.

Shaking her head, Gail shoved the phone into her pocket. "Yeah, I'm gonna worry, Holly. Always. Because I know exactly how bad it gets," she said bitterly.

It wasn't Holly's fault and she knew that. Sometimes the weight you carried around crushed you. "Gail," said Holly, gently. It was her apologetic tone.

"No, not right now, okay?" Gail turned and walked back to the kitchen. "I'm not mad, I just don't want to talk about that."

"Okay," Holly replied softly. And she did give Gail space.

Once in a while, things were reversed and Holly needed the silence and space to sort through what was in her head. Gail just wanted to shut up the memory for a while. You were supposed to worry about your kids less as they grew up. They were people, after all, and they could take care of themselves. But Gail recognized she was always going to be a little more worried than the normal parent about some things.

She tried to cover it up with her sarcasm and teasing nature, but the truth was a little darker. After everything she'd seen in twenty-five years on the force, Gail couldn't objectively look at the world anymore. Half her life ago, and it was still colored by the pain from one stupid night where they got the wrong guy and she should have checked the damn door.

She was still cooking in the kitchen when Vivian made in home.

"Hey," announced the kid, sounding pretty awake for someone out all night.

"Hey, you are sweaty and disgusting," replied Holly. "Where were you?"

"Suicide Sprints with the guys from ETF. Hi, Mom."

Gail glanced over and saw her daughter taking her motorcycle jacket off and falling onto the couch. "Your laundry is in the wash," Gail called over and tossed the tuna into the pan.

"Thanks," yawned Vivian. "Sue says hi."

When Gail didn't reply, she heard her daughter sit up and ask if something was wrong. "No," said Holly quietly. "Though where were you last night?"

"Here," replied Vivian, sounding absolutely perplexed. "I got home at like two. You guys were asleep."

"And you went to do suicide sprints this morning?" Her wife was sounding dubious. "Honey, I'm thinking she was swapped out with another child at the judge's office."

Shaking her head, Gail kept making the fresh tuna salad. She knew what Holly was doing. Holly was giving her a timeline to make her see that Vivian had never been at risk for being dead in a ditch. She came home, slept a few hours, and went back out because she was insane. Just like them.

Gail listened to Vivian tell Holly about how she did darts, and how Rich hit on Jen Luck and yes, she got pictures. Holly asked about how she was getting along with her classmates. When Vivian told her that Lara wanted to get her out and date, Holly said she thought that wasn't a bad idea.

The kid was avoiding dating and anything personal with the rookies lately. Something had gone down with Liv a month ago, that was for sure. But Vivian had never really been great at people. She didn't trust them not to hurt her, which made sense. Scars lingered. And Gail understood why Vivian didn't want her new friends to dig too much into the life of a kid who was adopted. They might find out her past.

Neither of them wanted to be that tragic little girl. And back to Perik again. Gail put her hands on the counter and sighed, trying to get her head out of that hole. It was a recipe for nightmares. She was too tense and to twitchy. It all clung to her too tightly, like clothes that didn't fit.

Her wrist buzzed and Gail glanced down to see the heartbeat from Holly. As stupid as that had seemed years ago when they first got the watches, it was a simple way to poke each other. Looking over at the couch, Holly had her back to the kitchen and was almost absently talking to Vivian about how it was good to go out and change things up now and then.

Gail tapped her watch to send a heartbeat back. Then she pulled out her phone and checked something. The fish was done and she took it off the heat. "Holly, can I leave the salad for you to finish?"

Her wife looked over, perplexed. "Sure. Work call?"

"Mm. No."

But Holly didn't ask more. Gail went upstairs, found her yoga gear, and came back down. The kid was gone and Holly was making the salad, reading Gail's notes in the cookbook. "Where's the troublesome one?"

"Showering and she said she'd finish the laundry." Holly half turned and her mouth opened to say 'ah' as she saw Gail's gear. "Have fun," she told Gail, smiling but not leaning towards her to get a kiss.

Gail nodded. "I'm not ... I'm not mad, Holly."

Her wife nodded back. "I know," she said. And the tone, the way she said it and the way she smiled gently, told Gail she really did know. "Shoo. Go do yoga. I'll massage you when you get back. If you like."

Smiling, Gail went to the garage. "I may take you up on that."

Right now, all she hoped was to push the stupid thoughts out of her head so she could sleep.

On the best of nights, Vivian didn't sleep much. Insomnia sucked. Guilt wasn't helping. After Gail had gone off to impromptu yoga, Holly had explained that Gail had not been particularly happy about her night out. They'd not heard her come home nor had they heard her leave, so from their perspective, the kid hadn't come home at all that night.

When people asked if it was hard having a cop for a parent, they usually meant in the way that cops were protective. They didn't mean it in the way that cops were scared to death because they knew how horrible the world was. Gail had been kidnapped, after all. Holly literally saw death daily. Of course they took things the worst way. They lived them the worst way.

Her parents weren't overprotective. Vivian was the only kid she knew who didn't get in trouble for staying out late or throwing a party. It wasn't just because she was responsible. It was because her moms were trying not to smother her. To let her have a life.

Saturday morning had rolled around with not enough sleep before Vivian found herself wide awake. Sunday morning was inching up before she'd managed to get any more. She'd close her eyes, curl up in bed, and just lie there. Thinking. It sucked.

She left the lights off and stared at her ceiling. The fan made its lazy circle, pushing the air around and keeping the room tolerable between bouts of the air conditioner. Summer. It was inching to an end. Soon she'd be five months a cop and Liv would be away at school.

That was still confusing the hell out of her. She'd tried calling Liv a couple times. Asking if she wanted to come over for dinner because Holly hadn't seen her since she'd been back. Asking if she was okay. All Viv got in return was a text saying Liv was fine. Girls were confusing. You didn't get a free pass on understanding them by being one.

A sound jostled her out of her head. It was followed by a loud 'God Fucking Damnit!' from the master bedroom. In the still of the night, she heard Gail curse again, more quietly. It wasn't a phone call. Vivian sat up and listened carefully. She could identify Gail's footsteps in the hall, hitting the loose floorboard by the office that they had never managed to get to stop squeaking, and then the sound of a light clicking on.

With a sigh, Vivian got up and poked her head out. The office light was on. She turned her head and saw the master bedroom at the end of the hall, still dark, the door cracked open. More quietly than Gail, Vivian slipped out of her room and checked to see that Holly was still sound asleep, draped over most of the bed. Then she walked down the hall, avoiding the loose step, and stuck her head in the office.

As expected Gail was sitting on the couch with her tablet. Unexpected, she was not really reading. She was just staring at the wall. "Hey," Vivian said, trying not to let her nerves show.

Gail looked up. Her face looked… horrible. Like sleep was a joke. And weirdly, Vivian recognized the eyes. She'd seen them in the mirror five years ago, coming back from visiting Liv in Montréal. "What are you doing up?" Matching the eyes, Gail sounded exhausted.

"Can't sleep." She crossed her arms and leaned in the doorway.

Her mother looked concerned. "You okay?"

Why were parents always like that? "Uh, you're a moron, Mom." She walked in and sat on the other end of the couch. "You're the one who had the nightmare."

The look of guilt washed over Gail's face. "Crap," she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

"I'm sorry," sighed Vivian, pulling her knees up to wrap her arms around. "I didn't think… I didn't think—"

"Hey." Gail put her tablet down. "This is not your fault. It's not Holly's either. She knows that." Crossing her legs, Gail faced Vivian. "Look. You know my brain's a little broken. I don't get to be in charge of that."

Intellectually she knew that. When she'd been a child, knowing Gail had nightmares was both terrifying and comforting. It scared the hell out of her, seeing someone who was supposed to be the grown up, supposed to protect her, like that. Gail was supposed to be the guardian. She was the shield who kept Vivian and Holly away from he ugliness of the world. At the same time, Vivian had already seen the things people did to each other. She knew how grownups lied.

They'd been up at the cottage the first time she'd seen it. Before then, Vivian had heard snippets of it. Noises of her moms getting up in the night. Gail looking like ass in the morning. Holly hovering around Gail, trying to be supportive and not smothering. Both way too tense.

But the cottage. She'd been eight. Gail had fallen asleep under the tree behind the house. Vivian had been flinging herself off the rope swing over and over until Holly asked her to come inside. Holly was headed into town to pick up some groceries and Vivian said she'd stay if that was okay. After extracting a promise to stay out of the water until she got back, no swimming without supervision, Holly kissed her forehead and told her to let Gail sleep.

Not too long after, Gail had jerked awake. It looked like how it felt when you had a falling dream. Her whole body twitched and then Gail was sitting up, her eyes wide, sweating, and paler than normal. Vivian dropped the book she'd been reading (possibly The Hunger Games, that sounded right…) and Gail's head snapped over to stare at her.

The look was something Vivian hadn't seen before. She'd seen adults angry and hurt and worried. This was actual terror. This was something new and it scared the shit of her. Adults didn't get petrified. Adults were imperfect and screwed up and did stupid ass things. They could be evil and wrong, but they didn't get scared.

There had been a long talk after that. Gail explaining that she did still have nightmares. Which Vivian had known. They'd talked about that. But knowing and seeing were different. It put a spin on all those weird mornings. Suddenly her parents were fallible and human. But instead of scaring her, it made her feel better. Because she had nightmares. And she saw in Gail what she felt. And that meant she, Vivian Green, was normal.

It also meant when she heard her mother up in the middle of the night, Vivian would come and sit with her. Because she understood the pain of memories keeping you up at night. And that was why she sat up with Gail now.

"I know, Mom," she told her quietly.

Gail closed her eyes and leaned her head against the couch. "I really hate it," she muttered.

If it wasn't for that, though, would Gail be as understanding of Vivian's weirdness? "Can I hate that it's still a thing but like that it made you who you are?"

Her mother smiled. "I feel that way myself sometimes." With a sigh, Gail got up. "I'm going to try and sleep. You should too."

"Would if I could, Mom," sighed Vivian.

Gail ruffled Vivian's hair. "Promise me no Suicide Sprints today. Sleep in."

"This conversation feels backwards. Shouldn't I be trying to sleep in and you be trying to get me up?" Stretching, Vivian got up and followed Gail out, flicking off the light as Gail got to the bedroom door.

Lying in her bed, Vivian thought about how her mother having nightmares was a constant. Was it her fault, going out at night and then again in the morning, that Gail associated that with a case? Was it her fault Holly made a somewhat unfortunate word choice to try and calm her wife down that backfired?

Of course she knew the answer was no. But at the same time she didn't have the luxury her peers did of telling her parents they sucked and stomping out. She could move out, and probably should, but that wasn't the point. She had imperfect parents. Unlike everyone else she knew, Vivian felt that in her bones and loved them the more for it.

There wasn't a day she didn't see her moms as awesome people, but she also saw them as humans. She loved them for being her parents who took care of her. They felt that her happiness should be preserved above their own. How weird… Vivian suddenly understood the idiot parents who stayed together for their kids.

It was not a world she liked. She lived in a world where her parents worried about her more than other parents might, in ways that other parents didn't, because of who and what they were. They worried because they knew the truth of the world. They worried because they knew how dangerous her life was. And they still let her go and do the things that scared them.

That was more daunting than pretty much anything else in her life.

Vivian closed her eyes and tried to convince herself to sleep. It might work.

Filing the case as unsolved, again, pissed Holly off. It bothered her more than she let on to anyone. Except for Gail. And Gail understood those things. But here it was, another year gone by, and she was adding another case to her unsolved folder. It was a special folder filled with head bashings going back to when Gail had just moved in with her. There was another folder within that cross-linked back to cases stretching back longer than either of them had worked for the police.

"Where's Sherlock Holmes when you need him?" she asked herself, saving the last entry and closing the folder. "I bet Veronica Mars never put up with shit like this."

The unexpected voice of her wife replied, "Can you imagine if they'd never found out who killed Lilly Kane?" Turning, Holly saw Gail holding up a lunchbox. "You forgot lunch. I need a break from looking at drug running, which I hate. Your office means people won't walk in on me."

Holly smiled and pushed away from her desk. "If this was a TV show, we'd have sex on my desk at this point."

Rolling her eyes, Gail closed the door behind her. "You have a couch, which would be more comfortable. Also sex at work has never ended well. Ever."

"That sounded like the voice of bitter experience," teased Holly. She poured two glasses of water from her cooler. Everyone teased her about it, but it was cheaper than the filters and they didn't have to re-route pipes.

"Chris, making out in a cruiser. Nick… Evidence." Gail sat down and yawned. "Boys are easy."

"Evidence? Really? That's actually gross. I thought you were going to say something like how Andy had sex with Swarek, back in the old days."

Gail laughed. "Weirdly, we just tend to make out in public, though I have a sneaking suspicion some folks have gotten it on in the bathrooms at the Penny." She opened her own lunchbox and took out a salad. Leftovers from Saturday.

Wistfully, Holly remarked, "Back when we were young and hot, we used to make out in interrogation rooms."

"That's true," smiled Gail, leaning over and kissing her softly. "Hi."

This was nicer. "Hi."

"Thanks for letting me sleep in," said the blonde, pouring salad dressing on her food.

"Did you actually get some sleep?" Her wife nodded and Holly exhaled. "Good. Thank you for bringing me lunch, wifey."

The smile on Gail's face was still the one of wonderment and delight. "I'm a very good wife," she drawled. "Barefoot in the kitchen, cooking, cleaning, taking care of the baby."

Holly snorted. "The baby who has been texting us updates on where and when she'll be places? I think I scared her."

"I'd say I was upset, but … " Gail pushed her hair back. It was growing out again, a brownish red, slicked back and sexy. "I'm sorry I was a brat this weekend."

"You weren't," Holly said firmly. "You were worried with good, historical, reasons."

Gail leaned against Holly's shoulder. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm going to die a balled up wreck of nerves because my kid's a cop."

Patting Gail's knee, Holly asked, "Did you call your mom?" Gail nodded and picked at her salad. "And?"

"And after gloating, she had some advice. I'm not too crazy, it seems. And I kinda get why she used to spy on me and Ginger."

Holly snorted a laugh. "Please don't tell me you put a tracking device on Vivian's bike." Gail tried to look innocent but started laughing too soon. "You're terrible."

"You like me," smiled Gail.

"I'm very fond of you," Holly agreed, and kissed her cheek. "May I change the subject away from our child?"

"You may. But if it's about our vacation, yes, I have the time off, and unless Toronto devolves into an all out gang war, we're going to the cottage for a week sans child."

That had been one of Holly's questions, actually. "Is it that bad?"

"It's not good." Gail sighed. "The ends of Anton Hill's people are starting to pick fights with Three Rivers. The takeover isn't going so good."

"Think it'll end in deaths?"

"Usually does. Right now they're posturing. And we still can't find the head of the Rivers' people. They have so many shells... I had to get a damn forensic accountant to try and figure this shit out." Gail stabbed a piece of tuna. "Steve and Chloe are working on it."

Holly knew a lot more about crime than she had two decades ago. She'd always known about death and pain and the puzzles, but only by being with Gail had she learned about how the crimes before the crimes worked. "You have to admit, it's smart. It's kind of like the divisions. Each one covers an area and they all report on home to the chief."

Shaking her head, Gail smiled. "You're complimenting the ingenuity of the devil, darlin'," she teased.

"That was an Oliver-ism," chortled Holly. "Need me to be on the lookout for anything?"

And weirdly, Gail had an answer. "That crap they laced the weed with?"

Weed? Holly screwed up her face. "Wait, from a couple months ago? Unpack that one for me."

"So. My theory." Gail spun her fork between her fingers. "We never found his source, where the Fentanyl came from. He wasn't working for Hill's people. They were trying to get him. What if Hill has the dope and Rivers has the rest? Sneaky buy out. Make Hill dependent on 'em without them even knowing."

It was an interesting theory. "Who was it being accused of complimenting the devil? That's a lot of faith you're putting in their skills."

Gail snorted. "They've hidden from us for over twenty years."

"You weren't exactly looking," she pointed out.

"Hush. They didn't raise any red flags, they didn't trip our radars. They were damn smart, or lucky. They've always been lucky," noted Gail.

Holly leaned in and smiled. "Except when it comes to a certain set of dedicated Pecks."

A small flush touched Gail's face. It didn't take much to make the pink show, but Gail usually kept it well in check. "Which includes a rookie Peck right now," she grumbled, a smile touching the edge of her lips.

"Yeah." Holly reached over and tapped Gail's nose. "You're proud of her, thinking about all this."

"She'll get in over her head, like McNally, if she doesn't watch out," muttered Gail. But the smile was still there oh the corners of her mouth. So Holly smiled back that smile she'd always thought was really derpy and embarrassing and dorky. It was the smile where she only curved her mouth to one side. And Gail melted like butter on a stovetop. "Oh god, yes, fine, I'm proud of her for thinking about how their past is probably a key to what they're doing now, and maybe that the source of their name will tell us how they've formed things."

There it was. Holly kissed Gail's nose. "Besides the obvious about three rivers coming together, it's not a bad idea. Three brothers joined and all that."

Gail stared at her. "What?"

"Three brothers joined. Three unicorns in company, sailing in the noon day will speak. From what is from the light, that the light will dawn and then shines forth the eagle cross..." Holly trailed off as Gail was waffling between grinning and confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her wife gave in to the grin and beamed. "When have you ever memorized anything artistic?"

"It's from a comic book," grimaced Holly. "Tintin. He's a boy reporter- you know what-"

"Hergé? Le Secret de la Licorne?"

Of course. Because if Gail had heard about Tintin, she'd heard about it in French and had probably read all of them. Holly had adored them as a child. She'd probably never have learned to read if not for them, but she was never telling Gail that. Her multilingual wife might never let her live it down. Well. Maybe if she knew how young Holly was when learning to read.

Holly tossed a hand up. "You know it in French."

She did, but Gail's face shifted as she recited. "Trois frères unys. Trois Licornes de conserve voguant au Soleil de midi parleront. Car c'est de la lumière que viendra la lumière. Et resplendira... And then I can't remember the coordinates... la † de l'Aigle. Holy fuck." Gail shot to her feet, pulling her phone out. "You're a goddamned genius, Holly."

"Thank you," smiled Holly. "What did I do?"

Gail's thumbs were flying on her iPhone. "Do you remember the name of the pot shop?"

Thinking for a moment, Holly replied, "Rainbow Happiness?"

"And its sister shop, Prancing Unicorn?" Gail was grinning her most evil smile. "That son of a bitch. Those utter assholes. Waving it in our damn faces."

Holly stared at Gail. "Hang on, you think Tintin comics are the clue to all this?"

"Yeah, I do," nodded Gail. "Think about it. Three brothers. A shop named Unicorn. Parchments. You roll weed in parchment. I never heard that damn poem in English!" Gail's phone rang. "I'm not insane Steve, I'm damned brilliant and so is my wife. Eagles. Crosses. Brothers. Find me something where three brothers meet. Okay?"

As her wife turned to the corner to argue with her brother about the case, Holly shook her head. If this turned out to be the answer to what Gail was working on, she wasn't going to let her wife forget about it for years.

Pulling out her own phone, Holly checked the inventory of the local comic book shop and put in a hold on a copy of the two issues that Gail would want. She didn't buy them, just in case, but she did text her mother and asked if they still had her copies of the comics. Her mother, now retired and highly prone to boredom, replied that she'd send them out that afternoon.

"Hey, Holly. Where can I get a copy of the books in English?"

"The comic shop on the corner by the butcher's. They're holding them for you." Holly waggled her phone.

Gail beamed and turned back around. "Thank you. Steve, you get that?" She recited the address of the comic shop. "Yes, perfect. Send a minion out to get them... What? No, idiot. You can't send your niece. That's called nepotism and you know it." Gail hug up and hooted.

"That is the hoot of excellence," said Holly, knowingly.

"That is the hoot of someone whose brother just found a pot shop called Rackham's Vibes."

If she'd been drinking, Holly would have snorted the liquid out her nose. "Isn't that trademark infringement?"

"Can't trademark a name. Doesn't explain Rainbow Happiness, mind. Anyway. We're going to check out the Rackham shop, I have a bet on if the owner's nickname is Red, and Steve is looking into the old owners of Rainbow."

"Try Marlenspike," joked Holly, and was slightly appalled that Gail wrote that down.

"You jest, Dr. Stewart, but if there's anything the losers I've arrested over the years have taught me, it's that they are nothing but predictable and idiotic."

Holly shook her head. "And yet you think they read a pretty esoteric comic."

Raising a finger, Gail said, "And a Spielberg movie." Oh right. That. "People think they're so smart," sighed Gail, happily.

"At least we are." Holly shook her head. "Finish your food, honey. You'll get a headache, thinking so hard you burn off the energy." Gail's metabolism was the seventh wonder of the world.

Leaning in, Gail kissed Holly fondly. "You are the best wife ever."

"I am," agreed Holly. "I am indeed. And so are you."

She'd been right about one thing years ago. Detective Gail Peck solving cases was a total turn on.

Chapter Text

The night before it happened, Olivia had called to explain why she'd run off. It was a relief to finally have that answer, after two whole months of wondering what the hell Vivian had done to piss off the planet. And in a lot of ways she didn't mind knowing they weren't getting back together. It felt like a relief to have that settled on both ends. To hear Liv say she was sorry, but she shouldn't have kissed her, it was wrong and inappropriate, was kinda painful though. Because while that was true and Vivian totally agreed, hearing it was weird.

But the running off... Having the girl you'd once liked, like really liked, kiss and then run off was confusing enough. Liv's apologies had helped, and more it had helped Vivian to realize that she didn't have those kinds of feelings for her former bff. Not anymore at least. Gail had been right, too, saying that getting back with exes was a great way to stomp all over your own heart.

Even so. When Liv said that she was seeing someone and that was why it was wrong, well it hurt. That was a little bit of an unexpected emotion. Vivian felt like she was gutted to hear not only had Liv moved on, but she was actually with someone when she'd kissed Viv. It was fair, though. It had been a long time. Finding out you were the other woman was not fun, though she didn't really feel like she had much right to be too vocally upset about it, since she hadn't kissed Liv.

At least not until Olivia said it was with a guy.

Why that was so exceptionally painful, Vivian wasn't quite sure. Holly had once mentioned the fact that most of her exes were straight after breaking up with her. Gail had joked all her exes were still into women, but they were also all men. But then there was Liv and a guy and it was stupid. Liv had dated guys before. And girls after, as it turned out, but this one, this person who she'd been dating just had to be a guy. And it hurt like hell.

Her ex slash best friend had kissed her because the boy she was in love with had been noncommittal about moving to San Diego. And Olivia, scared and thrown off her game, looked for a moment of comfort in her friend. Which was wrong because it hurt Glenn. Not Vivian. Glenn. She already hated him. A lot. Glenn could die in a fire right now.

Maybe that was why it hurt so much. Not only had Olivia chosen someone else, which was totally fair, but she'd picked them and taken their side and cared more about him than her in this moment. On the one hand, it was totally fair. On the other, Viv and Liv had been best friends for over a decade before things had gotten stupid. Now she was just anyone else. And all the protestations that Liv had needed a friend before she moved to the States felt forced. Olivia had Glenn. Vivian was thrown aside.

Confused and hurt, Vivian called Matty to unburden herself, only to have serious advice given to her. Walk away from it. Olivia was clearly not worrying about Vivian's feelings, so Vivian should protect herself and stay out of it. Good advice, but it didn't make her feel much better. Sometimes Matty was great for sympathy. Apparently asking for sympathy the week before Matty's big costuming project was due was a bad idea.

That made for a fucking awesome night with very little sleep. It made for a subsequent morning avoiding her moms, since either one would know in a second that the diagnosis was drama. Thankfully, Holly was called in early on a case and Gail always slept in on those days. Without Holly to drag her out of bed, Gail could be insanely lazy. Vivian timed her escape for before Gail's alarms (plural) went off, going to the division's gym and trying to bike her feelings out.

She was getting dressed at her locker when Lara and Jenny came in with cookies. Jenny smiled, holding up a Tupperware box, "Peck! Snickerdoodles?"

"Oh you have no idea," muttered Vivian, pulling her black t-shirt on. "Today's going to be an 'eat my feelings' kinda day." She snagged a cookie and bit into it, sighing happily. They were good.

"Yikes, the Peck has feelings," joked Lara. "You're here early, too."

Vivian sighed. "Didn't feel like getting an earful from my folks."

Opening her own locker, Lara looked surprised. "But I met your mom, she's nice."

That was still funny. For wherever reason, the fact that Vivian was a Peck and the daughter of Detective Inspector Peck hadn't filtered through the rookies. It helped that there were two other Pecks in their class, though one was at Twenty-Seven and the other was way the hell across town. Still, Vivian and Gail were making bets on when they'd figure it out. It was enough that they knew Viv was in the chain of Pecks. Not even Jenny, who knew who the Pecks were, connected Vivian to Gail. Sometimes it helped, not looking like her mothers.

"You met my mom? When was that?" She was tempted to ask which mom, since neither tended to hang out on the main floor of Fifteen anymore, but Lara cheerfully went on.

"Dr. Stewart was at the murder I caught last month," explained Lara with a bit of pride. "The skull bashing? She did my autopsy. Isn't she your mom?"

Vivian smiled. "Oh right." That night, after Lara's first autopsy, Holly had told her how Lara passed out. "I heard about that. You passed out."

Predictably, Lara looked worried. "She told? Wait, so she knows Christian! Is that why she came to Fite Nite?"

Vivian nodded, a little confused. "Uh, yes. Actually ... God, you know, I don't want to know how I came up as a topic of conversation." Vivian took another cookie.

Of course Lara went on. Again. She always did that when Vivian didn't want her to. Lara was just ... She was really friendly and that was weird. "McNally was talking to her about how the sergeant's always on your case to know stuff."

Oh. That made a little sense. "Well. Yeah," grumbled Vivian, pulling on her uniform shirt and tucking it in.

"Your mom is the chief medical examiner?" Jenny looked surprised. "That's so cool! Why didn't you do that?"

"I don't like the smells that much." Vivian grabbed her belt and tugged it on. Taking two more cookies, Vivian went to get her gun and some coffee before parade. Naturally she was with Nick, which was fine. He was so accustomed to her mother's mercurial moods - to Gail's moods - that he took her being quiet in stride.

She was not as talented as Gail at paying attention to everything at once. Gail could memorize license plates at speed while driving and singing along with the radio and talking to Holly. Vivian could do it while driving or talking, but not both. Singing only if she knew the song really well. That made it hard to work with Nick's quizzes about cars and traffic and alternate routes while she was mulling over the fact that none of her fellow rookies had connected her to the Pecks, and Olivia was moving to San Diego with some guy in her chemistry class.

And frankly that meant she probably wasn't in the right frame of mind when they pulled up the domestic. It sure as hell meant that when the man grabbed his hunting revolver and started aiming at his wife, Vivian freaked a little.

All of the sudden, her brain kicked over into a weird, hyper awareness. The world took on a weird sharpness, like someone was screwing with her photo filters. Things were way too crisp as she and Nick drew their guns and started to shout for the man to stand down.

It was his surprising move, his sad look at Vivian, that hit her hard. He moved in slow motion, swinging the revolver, its long barrel, up to under his chin and firing up through his own head, eyes locked on her. The look froze her, but the smell was what really did her in. She'd smelled guns a hundred times before. She liked using guns, shooting them with Gail and Elaine was a fun after-school treat when she'd been a teenager. But behind the sound of the gunfire, the wet, sickening noise of a bullet crushing bone and body, the smell of the gun and the blood and brain...

Vivian remembered.

Reeling, she didn't have a memory holstering her gun, but she knew she did it. She didn't remember leaving the room. She didn't even remember puking. What she remembered was looking up at her father who had the same, sad, look in his eyes, and who pulled the trigger. She remembered the look in his eyes and the way his long arms swung the shotgun, tucking it under his chin. She remembered the sound of the shotgun blast, the sound of blood and brain and bits of bone splattering on the ceiling and the wall behind him. No. No the mirror on the wall behind him.

How could she forget that?

How did she, at just six, block out seeing her father blow his own head off with the shotgun?

And then she was sitting on the bumper of the squad, with Nick hovering. He had his hand between her shoulders and was telling her to breathe slowly. She looked up at him, confused. Why was he whispering? She could barely hear him and had to read his lips, which she really wasn't very good at anyway.

Finally someone else's words cut in. "What happened?" That voice was familiar, even though it came from a million miles away. Traci. Why was Aunt Traci there? Oh right. Of course. It was a homicide.

"The husband shot himself right in front of us," explained Nick. He sounded like he was down a tunnel. They kept talking about the case as the world came back into auditory and visual focus.

Vivian swallowed and asked, "Why does my mouth taste like crap?"

"Hey," said Nick, gently. "You tossed your cookies."

"Oh." Vivian blinked a few times. "Those were good cookies." She straightened up slowly and startled when Nick cupped her face to look at it. "God, stop that," she growled, shoving him away.

Sounding relieved, Nick said, "She's back." He handed her a bottle of water.

Traci eyed Vivian quietly. "I need to get your statement, Viv," she said calmly. Calm was good and Vivian nodded. They went over the facts careful, just getting a statement. It was just like they had rehearsed in class, or like Vivian had practiced at the dinner table with Gail or Elaine. Holly hated when they did it, and chastised them, but to Vivian it was fun.

Remember what was seen. Remember what wasn't seen. Learn how to put the pieces together. She'd wanted to learn how Gail did it after they'd seen a car accident heading up to the cabin. Everything had been a jumble to her eyes, and when she'd told the police office that, he'd nodded. Holly's version of the events weren't much better. But Gail, oh man, she'd just known everything. Make and model and license plates, driver wearing a hat, estimated speeds...

It had blown Vivian's mind that her goofy, childish, impish, parent was brilliant. She'd never seen it before, except in Gail's weird talent at languages. That police work had been amazing, and Vivian demanded Gail explain how she did it. Really, that was the first glimpse Vivian had into what it actually meant to be a Peck at work. She thought she'd understood with the gun training and the cases that room Gail away at all hours, but the memory skills, the whole awareness, was incredible.

Of course, Elaine had pointed out that Gail had a phenomenal memory anyway, and just needed the push. Holly too had an amazing memory. She had to for her job. But it was Gail's application that drew in Vivian. Yeah. Vivian knew she'd wanted to be a cop for a long time.

And she knew it still.

Taking the lessons from Gail and Elaine and Holly, she calmed herself and did what she'd been practicing for years. Remembering. Let the back brain fill in the facts and colors, let the front brain sketch the borders.

Traci's partner was impressed at least.

While Vivian had driven them to the scene, Nick drove them back to the station in silence. To her surprise, Gail was downstairs, waiting at the sally port. "What the hell, Nicholas?" She snapped at the man, thumping her fist into his chest. Without waiting for an answer, Gail shoved past him and held Vivian's chin, studying her face.

"Please, stop," grimaced Vivian.

"Shush." Gail turned her face side to side. "Are you alright?"

She started to nod, but paused. Then she shook her head. "No."

And right there, in the middle of the sally port, Gail pulled her in for a hug. It was a real Gail kind of hug, the sort that made a person feel safe and protected, like she'd make sure no one hurt you. It was not something Vivian expected at all from her mother. Gail rarely hugged in general, and never in public. This was the hug she got at home for being brave enough to help Matty when he was being beat up. This was the hug when she'd gotten accepted into the Academy. This was the hug when she was home from that disastrous trip to Montréal. This was the hug that made you safe.

"Okay," whispered Gail, holding her tight. "It's okay. You did fine."

Vivian sniffled a laugh. "I puked." She didn't want to cry, but she knew if she did, it would be safe.

"That's okay," insisted Gail. "It's totally okay."

"Okay," nodded Vivian, stepping back. "I'm okay."

Gail frowned. "You don't have to be. Don't get all Super Peck on me, Monkey."

"Jesus, Mom." But she laughed. It made her feel a little better. What she really wanted was to talk to Olivia, the only person she'd really unburdened herself to before. But that ship had sailed. "Thanks," she added.

"I'm working right upstairs and I have zero problems using nepotism." The simplicity of a threat Gail would never make good on helped more than Vivian would have thought. She smiled at her mother and nodded. This was okay. Gail was telling her this was normal.

There was no nepotism involved with Vivian (and Nick) being benched the rest of the day. There was a little parental fawning over her when she got home, but nothing really out of the ordinary. Oh they did fuss, Holly picking up cupcakes and Gail cooking one of Vivian's favorite meals. But still, they took her quiet attitude in stride, not pushing her about anything.

That was how they always were. They cared, they were close, and they let her go when she needed to be free. After dinner, Gail and Vivian played the new Mario Kart while Holly worked on an article. It was normal life for them until Gail finally decided to talk about the day.

"Holding up okay?"

"Yeah," nodded Vivian. "I froze."

Gail smiled. "My first real case, we were going after some guy named Snakeface. He jumped out of a window right by me, and I just watched him run off."

"Why did you do that?" She remembered the story. She knew it by heart. But sometimes she wanted to hear it again. To feel normal.

"Noelle told me to stay where I was. And I choked." Gail laughed. "God, I was so not ready."

Vivian laughed a little as well, feeling better for being reminded that even her mother had screwed up at her age. She chewed her lip. "Mom, have you ever shot anyone?"

Gail shook her head. "At. A couple times. Never hit anyone. Never killed anyone. Dov and Nick have, though. So has Andy." When Vivian didn't say anything more, Gail added, "Most cops go their whole lives without shooting or hurting anyone."

Nodding again, Vivian concentrated on the game for a moment. "Can I ask something ... Um ... Not happy?" She caught Gail's raised eyebrows out of the corner of her eye, but her mother said that it was always okay to ask about anything. "Okay. I know, ah, I know you still have flashbacks. To- to Perik." After a moment, Gail nodded slowly. "Do certain things ... Do you, like, smell things and it hits you?"

The game froze and Vivian blinked. Gail put down her controller. "Yes," she replied carefully. "Sometimes it's a sound. Right before I met your granddad, I heard someone with shoes like Perik had. Set me off for days."

Vivian put her controller down and looked at her mother. "Do you remember new things?"

"Not so much anymore. Most of the time it's remembering the same things." The look Gail was giving her was knowing. This was a place Gail had been before and she could see it in Vivian now. With a sigh, Vivian nodded. "You don't have to talk about it," Gail said gently.

"Does it help you?"

"Sometimes." Her mother looked ruefully over at Holly. "Sometimes I just get more mad." They both knew Gail's situation was different. Vivian just had memories. Gail had actual damage preventing her from forgetting.

Vivian rubbed her face and lay down on the couch. "I remembered what happened. When I was... When they... I remember." The house felt suddenly silent. Not even Holly's typing and paper turning was heard. Vivian realized her other mother was listening to them talk. "I ... Remember. The guy, today, he had a hunting revolver. But my dad... He had a shotgun. And- I came in the kitchen. I didn't have a key. But Kimmy told me about the hidden key in the backyard. It was under the fake rock by the steps. So when Mary's mom dropped me off, I went to the back door like it was normal. It was normal."

That was the first time Vivian had remembered her friend's name. Mary. Mary Rogers. She'd had the best birthday party of their class, and everyone had gotten to sleep over in the living room. The cake had been strawberry, which Vivian thought was gross, but Mary loved it. Mary was the only person she'd ever known who honestly liked Neapolitan ice cream. Absently, she wondered where Mary was now... Did she remember strange Vivian Green?

Neither mother said anything. They were patient and Gail was never patient. Rarely patient. Often patient with Vivian and Holly when they were working through drama. Everyone else could fuck themselves. "He was in the living room. The- there were doorways from the back. Left was the dining room. Straight ahead was the living room. And he was standing there. With the shotgun in his hands." Vivian swallowed. "I wasn't afraid. I was confused. I didn't understand why my dad was holding the gun. And ... He turned it. Not at me. He looked at me and shot himself."

Vivian closed her eyes. There was the smell again. Guns, but not the clean smell of Gail's well cared for and treasured weapons. Blood. Brain matter. It was the combination. She fell silent, not having anymore words for it all or how it felt.

"Sit up," instructed Gail, nudging Vivian up and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. That was all Gail said. They just sat there, Vivian leaning against her mom who was gently stroking her hair. After a little while, Holly snuck in next to Gail, but she too said nothing.

She was held by her moms and it was okay for a while. It was okay to be scared and to feel broken. They were there for her. Vivian sniffled, once, and then the tears started. She pressed her face into Gail's shoulder and just gave into the tears she should have shed 18 years ago. The agony and horror threatened to smother her, and all Vivian could do was sob.

There was no way to know why her father left her alive. There was no way to ever understand what thought went through his head before the shotgun fired. All she could ever know was that he killed them all. He looked at her, and then he killed himself. He left her. It was like Gail said at her father's funeral. And they were left standing.

Gail's arm held her close. That protecting, comforting, grip around her shoulders gave her a rock to cling to in her storm. Another hand touched her back, gently rubbing before Holly wrapped her arms around them both and shielded her. It was their way to let her know that, yes, Vivian's father had left her alone, but they were here.

She wasn't alone now.

After Vivian had finally gone to bed, with the help of two sleeping pills, Gail popped open the safe and pulled out her copy of the files. Holly closed the office door quietly. "Do you have to?"

"No," admitted Gail. "But it's the right thing to do." Because if it ever came up again, if it ever opened up again, they'd need to know. She didn't want to look at them ever again, but she'd kept them handy just in case a day like this happened.

"Let me write it down. Your handwriting is chicken scratch."

Gail pushed the legal pad over. "Says the lesbian doctor. You should really have worse handwriting."

Her wife smiled and wrote quickly. "Don't distract me, Peck."

Letting Holly write, Gail read over the case notes of the death of the Green family. At this point, she should have memorized every detail but she hadn't. Gail had actually never made it through the whole thing in one sitting. It hurt too much. Looking at it today, Gail spotted the parts Viv had told them today, and the parts she didn't. Like Vivian had called 911, which she still didn't seem to remember, and she'd had a key on her. Everyone had assumed she just had the key normally, and she'd let the EMTs in through the unlocked front door.

Gail flipped through the photos and found the one of the back yard, where the door was open, and there was a little rock to the side of the stairs. Just like Vivian had described. And net there was a photo of Vivian, pointing at something inside the house. "God," sighed Gail, putting the photo down.

Her wife looked up and sighed at the photo. "Oh." Holly picked up the photo and ran her thumb over it. "She was so young."

In the photo, Vivian was young and small. Undersized even. She was a little hollow too. A look in her young eyes that no kid should ever have to wear. Gail pushed over a second photo. "This was the photo that made me think we had to bring her home."

Holly picked up the photo. It was the one where Vivian was alone, sitting on the EMTs gurney, holding her backpack filled with clothes. She was so stone faced, so hurt, so jaded already. Gail saw that wise, sad, face and wanted to give it a place where she could grow up and be safe. "I'm glad Anne called us," Holly said softly. "Here."

Picking up the legal pad, Gail made a few minor corrections in comments at the bottom. Then she dated the paper and signed it next to Holly's scrawl. It wasn't going to hold up in a court of law, but they had it and if necessary, they would be able to use it. "Thank you." It felt weird to say, but it was how Gail felt at the moment.

"Do you think the case will ever be reopened?"

"By whom? Her grandparents are dead. Her aunt made it clear she never wanted to be reminded of the Greens."

That was the one thing Vivian still didn't know. They'd known for years about her paternal aunt, the sister to Vivian's suicidal father. When Vivian went into the system, the aunt signed a document excising herself from any obligation, and specifying that she would never be contacted. Not even to save her own life. And in turn, they were told to keep the confidence. Gail felt it was bullshit, but her lawyer said it was binding enough not to risk. Which meant they knew Vivian had an aunt, and they were legally prohibited from mentioning it. Gail hated that.

Holly frowned and echoed Gail's thoughts. "God those grandparents..."

How evil, how hard must they have been to make their children act that way? The information Oliver and Steve had dug up on the child abuse was galling. Broken bones, cigarette burns, black eyes. And on top of that, Vivian's father with his mental issues. "I'm kind of sad her maternal grandparents died before she was born," muttered Gail. "But then we wouldn't have her."

They had sounded like decent people. The maternal grandmother had passed away at 30, having bumped her head getting out of a bus. Gail had a copy of that report as well, tucked in the back of this one. The poor woman had slipped getting off a bus in winter, bumped her head on a step, and died less than 48 hours later of a subdural hematoma. The grandfather died of pancreatic cancer between the births of Kimmy and Viv.

"A lot of bad luck." Holly put her hand over Gail's and moved her chair to look at the photos better. "If they'd been alive, would any of this have happened? Or would it have been worse, more hidden, and still happened?"

"Would we have had her? Would we have been needed? It's like... All the bad things brought us all to the right place together." Gail pushed her hands through her hair, slicking it back. "Is that good or bad?"

Unable to answer that, Holly leaned against Gail and shook her head. They flipped through the ones of the house until they saw Vivian's father, dead on the floor. "It matches what she said. Why didn't they notice that?"

"They did," allowed Gail. "Description says he was facing the back door. They just thought it happened before she got home."

Holly sighed. "She didn't step in the blood or even try to check if her father was alive ... I can't tell if Vivian was terrified or a genius."

"Well. She's our kid. So both." Gail laced her fingers with Holly.

They'd looked at the photos a thousand times, mostly before Vivian had moved in. Gail had memorized the house's layout, the way the sister, Kimberly, was curled up in her bed, one leg sticking out, almost how Vivian still slept. She hadn't stirred in bed, probably sleeping through her father coming in and killing her. The way Vivian's mother was tangled in the sheets, hinting that she was the second death and tried to get up. Of course, Kimberly, Kimmy as Vivian referred to her, could have slept through things. Children had that weird ability.

No one heard the shots. Or no one thought anything was weird about them. Probably the former. Three blasts from a shotgun. Difficult to pull off the last one, but Vivian's father had her long limbs. There was the mystery of Vivian's height, solved in part. Gail couldn't remember looking at it like that before. He'd blown his own head off. Of course Vivian hadn't checked her father's pulse. His brain was splattered against the wall, the couch, and a mirror.

The number of times Gail had seen death was rather high. It came with the all her years as a cop, Gail had seen people die before her eyes. More or less. Jerry was different. But he wasn't the only death (or near death) that weighed on her soul. The ghost of Sophie's mother still haunted her. Some days, her father did.

Collecting the photos, Holly closed the folder and pushed it away. "Put them away, honey. I don't want to see them tonight."

Gail tilted her head. There was something in Holly's tone that reminded Gail of her wife's sordid past. "Thinking about Luke and Andrea?" Her wife nodded glumly. Because Holly too had seen someone die in front of her. Twice. But Luke by a gun, and now they knew Holly shared that with their daughter. Gail slid the folder away from the doctor and put a hand on Holly's, comfortingly.

"It's not that I don't think about it," said Holly. "I always remember it. I just don't think about it all the time. It was… It was a thing that happened. And someone died. And I guess my brain compartmentalized it."

The unspoken 'just like Vivian' hung in the air. "You were an adult." She laced her fingers through Holly's and sighed. "It's not like it's a thing that gets easier. It just … it is what it is. It made us who we are."

"Death," said Holly. "Death is very final."

"It is." Gail kissed their laced knuckles and leaned over to put the file back in the safe. One day they'd show it all to their daughter. Not today. "You know she can probably crack the safe."

Holly laughed softly. A puff of air, barely a sound made as she stood up. "She won't. Somehow we raised a really good kid."

Gail locked the safe and used it for leverage to stand up. "I'm old, Holly," she complained.

A pair of hands took hold of her waist and drew Gail in close to kiss the side of her neck. "Every day you get older with me is another day closer to spending the majority of your life with me."

Smiling, Gail tilted her head. "When I say that it sounds romantic, right?" Her wife made a hmmm noise and kissed her again. "When you say it, it sounds all clinical and mathematical."

Smothering a laugh in Gail's shoulder, Holly complained, "We can't all be gifted at rhetoric, Gail."

"Ironic for someone who hates public speaking," said Gail with a smile. But that fear was long gone now. Now she was so inured to it, it was normal.

"Hated. Past tense." Holly kept one arm around Gail's waist and led her to the door. "Go shower. I want to make sure the kid is really out."

"Uh, fact check, Doc. You gave her those sleeping pills. She's down for the count." None of them particularly liked sleeping pills. They gave Gail a nasty idiosyncratic reaction that resulted in sleeping without actually getting any real rest. Holly took them once in a great while when she couldn't sleep after long cases. Vivian had taken them once or twice after managing to make herself so tired she couldn't sleep at all.

That night, Vivian had drooped but been unable to cross the line into actual sleep. When Holly had suggested she take something, Vivian only asked if Gail thought she'd have nightmares. Which was probably why Holly wanted to check in on her.

As Holly creeped into their daughter's bedroom,Gail lingered by the master bedroom, watching. A moment later, Holly was back out and smiling. "Sleeping like the angel none of us are."

"Thank god she can sleep on that stuff," Gail said, not really thinking about it. And then she winced. She'd been trying not to bring up the last month of her own insomnia. Nightmares. Ever since that one stupid night where they'd thought Vivian was out all night.

Holly stopped by the door and gently cupped Gail's cheek. "I wish you could too," whispered the brunette, and she kissed Gail softly.

Frowning slightly, Gail looked at her wife. "That's it?"

"I'm not the one who doesn't get any sleep, honey." Holly steered Gail into their bedroom with a hand on the small of her back. "I just... I hate that this still happens to you. I hate we can't make you feel better."

It had been a while, admittedly. A long while. "I'm sorry," muttered Gail.

The hand on her back tensed. "Honey. It's not your fault. And it's not Viv's and I know it's not mine. It's what it is, and it's what it will be. I am still here. I still love you."

That was their thing. It was a good thing. It did help to hear the words. Because she didn't always feel like someone worthy of love. Even now, twenty years of Holly sticking around and fighting for each other, the nagging doubts of the first half of her life lingered. "Fifty-six," she said, abruptly.

"Fifty-six?"

"When I am fifty-six, you will have been in my life for half of it," mused Gail. "From then, every day I spend with you will mean more time with you than without you."

Holly breathed out an 'oh' softly and pressed herself against Gail's back. "You're right. When you say it, it sounds more romantic," her wife decided, wrapping her arms around Gail and hugging her close.

Gail covered Holly's hands with her own. "I'm very romantic."

"Think you can sleep?"

Weirdly, Gail did. "I'm here. I'm safe with you. Our kid is safe with us. She's not alone."

"I meant more the part where you worry about her all the time."

"Well, I just have to get used to letting her go."

Holly's breath was warm on her neck. "Do I make that look easy? Letting her spread her wings?"

Ew. That was a terrible way to ask. "Two things. One, never say it like that again. You sound like a Hallmark card."

The doctor laughed. "Noted. What's two?"

Item the second was harder to say. But after decades, she knew she had to say what she thought, and that the honesty would be okay here. "Two, yes. You do."

Her wife was quiet for a long minute. "It's not," said Holly quietly. "Remember when I taught her how to ride that bike?" Gail did. "Letting go of the seat to let her take off down the sidewalk? Scared me to death. Every time she ran off to play soccer or hockey, I was sure she was going to get crushed by all those kids. She was so small."

Gail smiled. "Especially compared to that brute." There had been a very large boy on one of the opposing teams. Gail had been sure he wasn't actually eight.

"Oh, God. He was a tank!" But Holly laughed a little. "But that all scared me, honey. I hate it. But..."

When Holly trailed off and stayed quiet for a long time, Gail tugged her hands to loosen them and turned around. "But?"

"But." Holly looked very sincere and her eyes were wet. "But that look on her face. The day she got into the Academy? That look is so, so wonderful, Gail. She gets so damn happy. I would do anything to see her like that."

Gail remembered the look. She'd looked like that again the day she graduated. They had the photo framed. It hung on the wall next to Gail's more dour graduation shot. The photos were staged similarly: the graduate in the middle, holding the diploma, her parents on either side. Where young Gail's face was solemn and serious, Vivian's smile was wide and delighted. It was like everything the young woman had wanted was finally becoming real.

"Kind of makes Elaine make more sense," replied Gail. She was confident that Holly would understand what she meant.

The other woman nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Guilt and fear. Everything is guilt and fear."

Kissing Holly, Gail closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to her wife's. "We're doing good. Come on. Shower. Sleep."

They could keep on keeping on and it would be alright.

Like it or not, Vivian had the next day off. It was what it was. Even though the sleeping pills had helped her get a good night's sleep, she still felt like crap. Like she'd been run over. Waking up from a night on the pills made her body feel rested. Her brain was rested, too. She just felt groggy and sore all over. Maybe it was unrelated to the pills, maybe it was just her body's reaction to the mental trauma. Maybe it was the collective angst and stress of the history of it all.

Gail worked from home, which was annoying, but Vivian did understand why. Being alone would probably not be great. Still, Vivian slept away most of the day, migrating from her bed to the couch in the living room, and finally the couch in the office. At last her mind felt clear and not pained. It was as if the blast had blown out the cobwebs and allowed her to finally see her past clearly. Vivian's mind was unlocking.

More memories had filtered in since the night. She remembered a road trip. She remembered Kimmy learning to ride a bicycle. She remembered the fights. The sound of a hand hitting skin, her mother's skin, finally sorted itself out. Vivian was not surprised to remember her father hit her mother. But she still had no memory of a hand touching her. Not for a hug or a spanking.

The only recollection Vivian had of a hug was from her sister. At least until she met Gail and Holly. Even the social workers and the first foster homes had allowed her to remain standoffish. And Gail ... Gail hugged Holly and let Holly hug her, but rarely anyone else. It somehow clicked in Vivian's head that those hugs were safe.

She remembered very clearly the first time she'd hugged Holly. It was at the hospital, when the doctor had finally been released from her space tent of isolation. While Vivian couldn't remember why she'd felt it was so important to hug Holly just then, she remembered that feeling so well. Suddenly she got why people hugged. It was to express a feeling they had no words for. It was to say they loved each other. And Holly, Holly was so good at letting her hugs say so many things.

As she lay there, finally relaxing and feeling more together than she had in years, Vivian listened to Gail type. Gail, the storm, was safe. Gail always protected everyone, from her family to the city. A storm and a shield. It was safe to be broken and to heal with Gail there. Vivian put her tablet down and concentrated on the noise. She could tell from the keystrokes that Gail was excited about the case. "Do I get to know about the case you're working on?"

"Gangs," replied Gail. "We had a bit of a breakthrough on the Three Rivers case."

Now she was awake. "Seriously?"

Gail waved a hand at a box beside her desk. "We didn't buy comics for ourselves, junior."

That was tacit permission. Vivian got up and opened the box. "Who's Tintin?" She glanced at her mother, who was covering her face with her hands. Whoops. She'd made Gail feel old.

"Read The Secret of the Unicorn, will you?"

And that was a weird request. Vivian found that issue and settled back on the couch, reading it slowly. It was a cute story, complicated and yet understandable. After reading it once, she flipped back to the beginning and read it again. She studied every panel, every word, and thought about every meaning. "This was written by a Frenchie," she told her mother.

"Belgian," corrected Gail.

"So. Even stupider hats?" Vivian peeked at her mother and caught the smirk.

"Keep reading."

Right. Vivian studied the massive panel of the sword fight on the desk, which was one of those things that had people dying without a lot of blood. But there really were a lot of layers to the page. But it didn't give her any hints. Then she got to the end and blinked. "Are you shitting me? Three papers? Three brothers?"

Gail didn't look up. "Back when you were a baby, before your mom and I were dating, Oliver and I arrested this guy, Bobby Zanaro. He was one of the lieutenants for Three Rivers."

"He has two brothers?"

"He has sisters. But he also has two uncles. Your uncle is hunting them down now."

Vivian re-read the poem. She'd gone for runs once a week out by the Don Rivers. Eagles and crosses. That could be a clue. The run was by the science center. Not a lot of eagles. Crosses... Churches? Vivian got up and went to her room for a notebook, coming back to scribble ideas. After a bit, she felt eyes watching her. Gail was watching her. And smiling. "What?"

Gail shook her head. "As your superior, and head of OC, I need to remind you that if you go haring off to investigate this yourself, you could end up in a mess of trouble."

She knew that. "And as my mom?"

"If you go throw yourself into the middle of this shit, I will lock you in your room until you're thirty." Before Vivian could point out that both ways meant she was in trouble, Gail added. "But both ways, I'm proud you're thinking this all out. It's good copping."

Vivian wrinkled her nose. "Policing." Her watch buzzed a reminder that she had an appointment with her therapist. Like Gail's therapist, a call to say she'd seen a shooting and needed be squeezed in had amazing results.

"Potato, tomato," smiled Gail. "Do you want a ride?"

Shaking her head, Vivian put the comics. "No. But can I take your car?"

"Sure. We can ditch tonight if you'd like, or just you."

"Maybe."

That night was Wednesday, which meant Holly usually dragged them all to the batting cages. In talking to her doctor, she mentioned she wasn't sure if she wanted to go. The weight of what she'd learned and become felt oppressive. He didn't offer answers, which was kind of why Vivian liked him. He let her dump everything and then gave her suggestions on how to cope.

When Vivian returned from her appointment, Holly was already home and willing to skip. But Vivian insisted on a moment of normality in their crazy life, which seemed to make Holly smile more. Even Gail chipped in and did her best to hit the ball well. Once in a great while, Gail had a good day at the cages. That night was a good day and it was Gail who won the standing bet of hitting the home run sign first.

In her usual goofball self, Gail did a dance to celebrate her awesomeness. Which worked until she slipped and fell on her ass. Then they all laughed. That was, actually, Vivian's favorite thing about her mothers. They were so much fun and they just enjoyed life. And they had never once made Vivian feel like an interloper. She was family from day one.

The next day, Vivian had an appointment with the division therapist.

It wasn't special treatment and she knew it. Everyone had to do it after seeing someone die, or worse, killing someone. Dov was more of a hardass about it than other sergeants, as was their inspector, Noelle. With good reason, Vivian knew, but still it wasn't like she didn't know what was going on. So while Vivian seethed a little about having to go, she knew Nick was going too, and that was what it was.

Of course, it was possible that it was special treatment that Vivian got the first available appointment. It was early enough in the morning that she could even go to work after lunch, if she was cleared. And everyone naturally thought she would be cleared right away.

Predictably the therapist knew who the Pecks were, identifying Viv's parentage quickly, and asking very simple questions. Vivian had been going to therapy most of her life. For almost 20 years she'd talked to someone at least once a month about her feelings. At first it had been court mandated, but even after the adoption, Gail and Holly kept her going. They all went to therapy after all. Around the time she started college, Gail had made noises that it wasn't something Vivian had to do anymore. It still felt like something she should do, so Vivian kept going.

That also meant Vivian knew how to talk around a problem and make herself sound perfectly sane. She wasn't terribly worried about the evasion, since she had seen her own therapist already. When she got out, Steve was waiting with a lunch bag and a smirk. Clearly her family expected her to be cleared. "She got tagged for a triple out by the mayor."

"Thanks," mumbled Vivian, embarrassed.

"Look, I know. Okay? So you need anything at all, call me. You can take today off."

"I really just want to get back to normal," Vivian told her uncle.

"Yeah. I get that." There was no hug in the hallway of the division, just a squeeze of her shoulder and Steve left Vivian with her lunch, promising that Gail had made it. She eased into the break room, empty, and started to slowly pick her way through one of her favorite lunches. Falafel. Rich and Lara sat on either side of her.

"Hey," grinned Rich. She and Christian still found him thick as a plank. Maybe he should have gone boxing. Knock sense into him.

"Hi, Rich." She picked at the food. Gail never gave a person food without a reason. She probably needed the energy. Sticking her hand in the bag, she pulled out a box of mini Smarties and grinned. Yeah, that was her mom alright.

Lara cleared her throat. "You okay?"

That was the first time anyone from her class had asked her how she felt about it. "Yeah."

Lara glanced at Rich. "I mean... That's terrifying."

Vivian shook her head, "Look, Lara, I appreciate it, but can I not talk about it right now?"

And Lara totally caught the clue. "No, totally. I get it. If you, uh. If you need to talk, though." They both looked at Rich, balefully.

"I just wanna know why the Detective Inspector from Guns and Gangs was checking on you!" He held his hands up.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you're an idiot," she snapped, and bit into her sandwich. Pita, sliced falafel, hummus, tahini, with salad and no tomatoes. She'd not eaten a tomato at home ever. Sometimes when they went out she'd have them, but she'd learned not to get the juice near Gail after seeing the back of her hand break out in hives one dinner.

Rich looked confused while Lara started to smirk. "This is why no one likes you, Peck," he muttered. "You get favoritism and cronyism and all that shit. No one else gets a day off after a bad day—"

"Shut up," snapped Christian, sitting down next to Vivian. "You're an idiot."

"Said that," Vivian grumbled.

Lara gestured at Vivian. "This is Vivian Peck you moron. And you're asking why Detective Inspector Peck is checking on her? Seriously? How the hell did you pass the exams?"

Chiming in, Christian added, "And we all have to take a day off and talk to psych after crap like that. They made Collins do it too."

"There are, like, a brazillion Pecks in Toronto," snarled Rich. "That one looked nothing like her!"

"So?" Lara scowled. "She's allowed to have cousins."

"He's my uncle," sighed Vivian, picking at her fries.

The group fell silent. "Wait, seriously?" Lara looked surprised.

"It's not cronyism either, Rich. My mom asked him to drop off lunch because she's busy on a ... Thing." Vivian knew what case it was, too.

"Your mom makes you lunch," sneered Rich.

"Sometimes. She also does my laundry." Vivian studied his face. Fuck it. "I live at home with my parents, Rich. Who are Pecks. Yes, those Pecks. Got a problem?"

"Man, your mom cooks and cleans and married a cop? I bet she's some dowdy old lady-"

"You bought her a drink at Fite Night," drawled Lara. She continued while Rich looked lost. "Hold on. Steve Peck is your uncle uncle?"

Nodding, Vivian sipped her soda. "He is. Taught me to do donuts in cruisers."

"But... His sister..." Ah. So Lara knew. When Vivian nodded, Lara fell silent again.

"I bought your mom a drink?" Rich's hamster had not made the connection. That was okay and still a little funny.

Beside her, Christian frowned and took a french fry. "He did?"

"He did," smiled Vivian. "The other one. Stop stealing my food. I know we're friends, but we are not fry-friends."

Before Rich could argue, Lara shoved him. "Her mother is the chief medical examiner, you idiot. Dr. Stewart." As Rich looked flummoxed, Lara added, "But Steve Peck... I mean, he's cool. But he has a sister."

"I'd ask how you knew that, Volk, but I think I don't care." Vivian slid her food away from Christian. "And yes."

Lara eyed Christian. "For real?"

"S'true," confirmed Christian. "She used to babysit me when I was a baby, too."

"Under duress," Viv smiled, absently.

Lara waved her hands, "No way. You and your moms?"

"Yeah." Vivian eyed the other woman. So what that she and her moms were all gay? It wasn't related. At least she didn't think it was. It was hard to tell on the inside. She was pretty sure it had nothing to do with them, since they'd just made sure she knew it was okay to love however she loved.

It was Rich who asked the obvious. "You have two moms?"

"I do," confirmed Vivian. God he was dense. "They've been married a million years." Nineteen was a million, right?

Rich started to turn a weird red hue. "Wait... So when I bought Dr. Stewart a drink at Fite Nite ... She's married to ... A woman?"

"Mom's too nice to be a jerk about it." Holly really was too nice to the kids. Gail had been amused as hell. "Just don't do it if Gail's around."

"Gail. Peck …" Now Rich paled. "Gail Peck. The head of Organized Crime?"

"Only three divisions." Vivian sighed. Gail often complained about being pressured to take it all over, but she wasn't interested. Yet. That might change, especially if Uncle Steve did actually retire.

For some reason, the idea of having been hitting on the wife of the head of Organized Crimes set Rich into a panic and he left he room, flustered and muttering about how he was a dead man. "Crap, V, we should have told him ages ago," Christian remarked.

"Where's the fun in that?" At times, Vivian knew she was Gail's daughter, through and through. Lara hit her arm. "Hey!"

"You shit. You didn't say our Peck was your mom!"

"No one asked which ones I was directly related to," muttered Vivian.

Christian shook his head. "Think he'll tell?"

Given how Rich had been hitting on Holly, Viv suspected not. "Don't care either way," she sighed.

"I won't," said Lara, firmly. At Vivian's surprise, she explained, "You already have this massive amount of pressure from being a Peck. And then your mom and grandmom are like the most famous women on the force in forever? Oh my god, and your aunt! Traci Peck is, like, my hero. She's so cool! I read about how she stopped that serial rapist years ago!"

That was a million years ago. "I wasn't- I didn't know her then," muttered Vivian. Those cases, rape and child abuse, were ones her family never talked about. Adults being mean to adults were generally fair game, but those two topics were verboten.

Lara chewed her lip. "Can I ask...?"

"I was adopted," she supplied. And then she added dryly, "Which is why I actually have melanin as a Peck."

That made both Christian and Lara laugh. Christian smirked and leaned in, "Seriously, they're all vampires. What's up with that?"

"They are vampires," she deadpanned. "They're cursed with eternal life. Two hundred years ago, a Peck died saving a gypsy witch. She brought him back to life and tasked him and his children with protecting the city-" she stopped when Christian shoved her shoulder and laughed.

Smiling, Vivian felt weirdly comfortable talking to them. Maybe Lara actually could be a friend. She seemed to pick up on Vivian's reluctance to talk about things before the adoption and just asked what it was like to grow up around the Division.

Friends. Huh.

One of the things you gave up, being married to a Peck, was the idea that nepotism was always a bad thing. There was no way she'd be able to avoid all Peck related cases, especially not now that her daughter was one as well, so Holly tried to be circumspect and open.

Like everyone knew the chief did at least one random autopsy a month. Holly quickly set that rule, refusing to exclude herself from the grunt work part of her career. Everyone got crappy autopsies. They were pulled pretty much at random, to boot. All Holly knew was that her name was on the docket for anything that had slipped in the last two days.

When she got to the morgue, she picked up the file and stared. The assistant on staff was nervous, and that was abnormal. "Is it really smelly?" Holly didn't mind the smells.

"No, ma'am. It's ... Hank Gorsky."

The name meant nothing to her. "Are any of the officers coming by?"

"Um. Just Officer Collins."

Nick? Holly's eyes hit the preliminary cause of death and she looked up. "Oh. This is from the shooting." She pushed her thumb between her eyes and sighed.

The assistant nodded. "Yes'm. We can... I can... Do you want to swap out? I have a stabbing from a mugging. It's the mugger, not the, er, muggee?"

"As interesting as that sounds, I'm fine," she smiled thinly. "Also it would be his intended victim. Muggee isn't a word." Patting the assistant's shoulder, Holly stepped into the autopsy room and started to kit up.

The door opened and Nick came in. "Hey..." He sounded surprised.

"My turn is my turn, Nick," she reminded him. "Where's your rookie?"

"Dov has her on desk duty the rest of the week. She didn't argue, so he's pretty sure it was the right call."

It probably was, mused the mother of a cop. The wife of a cop thought it was a bad idea. You should get back out there. Either way, Vivian's quiet acceptance would not last long. "She seem okay to you?"

"Yeah," nodded Nick, sitting down on a stool. "Doing most of that thing where she turtles up and won't tell me what she's thinking. How the hell is she so much like you two?"

Holly had expected that to be a comment about how Vivian was like Gail, not both of them. "Us?"

Nick nodded again. "Yeah, if it was just Gail, she'd snap at me for asking her any questions. But she's got a brain, like you. She thinks before she spouts out what she's going to say." Hesitating, Nick added, "Not that Gail's not smart, but she's ... She was really impulsive and angry at Viv's age. I get the feeling I'm seeing little you in there, tempering."

"I have a hard time seeing Gail as impulsive at twenty-three," smiled Holly, pulling her gloves on. Rookie Gail had been, as Gail described herself, scared to death of screwing up half the time. Angry, though, yes, Holly knew that Gail. Angry and prone to shoving people away before she got hurt. Impulsive never really sounded like her Gail though.

"She went out with me again." Okay. Nick had a point. "Anyway, I think Viv's okay. I'm keeping an eye on her."

"Just... Let her fail if she's going to, Nick. Let her learn." Her mother had told her that when she'd been fired as a teenager. Sometimes when you fall you hit the ground. Sometimes when you fall, sometimes when you fall, you fly. "Tell me about Mr. Gorsky here. What went on?"

Accepting the change in topic, Nick pulled out his notes. "We got the call about a domestic. Man shouting at his girlfriend. When we got there, Gorsky opened the door with the hunting revolver on the table."

Holly broke out a measuring tape, checking the arm length. "How long ... Why am I asking?" Shaking her head at her own stupidity, Holly looked at the criminologist's notes from the scene. Schienbaum was nothing if not meticulous. "Holy crap that's long." The barrel was incredibly long.

"Oh yeah, aren't they freaky? Can you believe people hunt deer with those?"

"I'm very glad Gail doesn't hunt," she muttered. Bringing the rifle up to the cabin had seemed silly for years. Then one winter a moose had taken out a car and was roaming the area. Holly had still felt it improbable that the moose would show up near them. And then the moose showed up right in their back yard. Gail had not shot it, or even at it. She'd waited on the balcony, on the phone with the local authorities, telling them where the moose was headed. But she said as it wasn't bothering her, she wasn't going to do anything about it, and they seemed fine.

Later on, when Holly asked why Gail hadn't shot the moose, she said the most interesting thing. Gail had pointed out that taking a life, any life, was a final act. You could never go back from that. You could never undo it. Even for a moose. It was easy for others to forget that her wife had such a soft heart for everything. Except stupid adults.

Nick laughed. "Of course not. That would be too messy." They both chuckled softly. "So, ah, Gorsky yelled at us that everything was fine. And then his girlfriend- oh right, the initial 911 call said it was his wife. They're not actually married, but they lied on the lease. Anyway, she came out of the back with this big shiner. V- Officer Peck asked if she was alright and gestured for her to come over. Soon as she- Viv- Peck got near Gorsky, he grabbed his girlfriend's arm and yanked her down. She fell."

"A charming man," Holly said dryly. Good on Viv for trying to get the woman out of there.

"He was in the army." Nick's voice had a flatter tone.

Shit. Foot well and truly in mouth. Holly looked up. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"It's not an excuse, or an explanation," he insisted. But it was what it was. "He grabbed the gun as the girlfriend hit the floor and started waving it 'round. We drew our guns. He pointed it at me and Viv was crazy calm at that point. She just kept cool and kept telling him it was okay, put the gun down. And he lowered it. I thought, y'know, thank god. Then he lifted it again, looked right at Vivian, and ..."

They looked at the body. "Well this certainly wasn't done by your guns," Holly noted. "Stippling, GSR, and trauma size are inconsistent with 22s."

Back when Holly had been a rookie, as it were, she'd had a hard time telling the various gauges apart without a ballistics check. In a way, that was why her speciality was knife wounds and blunt force trauma. Matching to the unknown was easy for her. But now, after all those years with Gail, she knew what size and shape the majority of calibers were just by sight. This was life married to the Pecks, she'd come to understand. The other married-ins whom she'd met had all learned similar things. They'd all mastered police work, from the teacher and nurse down to the TV producer and accountant. Once Gail teased and said it was osmosis.

Nick pushed his stool closer. "Can you really tell caliber from the entry wound? That's so weird."

"And the exit," she smiled. "It's easy to tell the basics. A rifle has a different look than a small caliber or a large. Of course, this handgun was firing rifle slugs, which I find rather terrifying."

"So do I," admitted Nick. "Even the new vests don't do much to stop them."

Once in their time together had Gail been shot. She'd been wearing her vest, thank god, and took the hit to her center mass. Vivian had been seventeen and freely admitted to being terrified about it, but Gail had been fine. A massive bruise to her ribs but no breaks. She'd shown off the bruise to a curious Vivian, who had teased Gail for being so god damned pale, and how that just made it look worse than it was.

That night on pain killers had been the worst part. Somehow, Holly had slept through Gail's rather predictable nightmare. She woke up at three am to a full bladder and an empty bed. When she came looking, Vivian and Gail were sitting on the living room couch, talking about normal things. They didn't see her, so she let them be and waited up in the bedroom until Gail eased back under the covers. She couldn't hug Gail close then, it would hurt her wife too much at that moment, but Holly held her hand the rest of the night and whispered that she loved Gail. She hoped it had helped.

With that memory in the front of her brain, Holly muttered aloud, "I wish they were illegal. Not that it would help."

Nick snorted. "That would just put them into the hands of more criminals. I say we tax the hell out of bullets."

Smiling, Holly took her measurements of the bullet holes. "That hasn't stopped cigarettes."

"Neither has ticketing people for smoking outside." Nick flipped through his notes. "Should I ..." When Holly nodded, he went on. "Right, so he shot himself. Just looking at Viv the whole time, which was hella creepy. And she booted. Got outside, though. Didn't contaminate the scene. And the girlfriend passed out. So I called EMTs and the Ds and then that was that."

He didn't have to tell her about what Viv did. It was nice that he did. She worked through the autopsy, finding nothing suspect in the body, and all evidence pointed to the suicide. "I wonder what he was thinking," sighed Holly, taking her gloves off.

"Was he on drugs?"

"Labs aren't back yet." It used to be that people would push her to speed up results. Nowadays, with Gail's muscle backing her, people were understanding of the time it took for science to process. Holly suspected Gail threatened people, and she was perfectly okay with that.

Thanking her for time, Nick headed back out. Holly texted Vivian to let her know the autopsy was done and got a reply back right away.

Anything special I can know and mess with Nick?

That was her kid alright, she smiled and replied.

Quid pro quo, Clarice.

Her daughter replied right away.

His name wasn ' t Gorsky. Fake ID.

Well that was interesting. A fake ID would make it hard to track down the information on the gun.

GSR indicates Teflon coated bullets.

Vivian replied with a thank you, and a reminder that she loved Holly best. She was always saying that to both of them, though. It was clear to Holly that she did love both of them. Best was a momentary passing.

Tucking the supposed Mr. Gorsky away, Holly started back for her office. As she dropped off the papers, Wanda Ury called her name. "Dr. Stewart, do you have a minute? It's about the pot shop case."

"Of course," smiled Holly, changing course for the mass. spec. room. "What've we got?"

"Fentanyl."

Holly blinked. "And marijuana?" Wanda nodded. That was rare. Fentanyl in powered form had only hit the streets about twenty years ago. Holly suddenly felt old. "Well that's fun. Is it related to ... Er ... Rainbow Happiness?"

"Rackham's Vibes," corrected Wanda.

As far as Holly knew, Gail hadn't wanted to get a court order or a warrant, fearing she'd tip off the place. They must have gotten a legit fake prescription for someone and sent them in... But. That was interesting. She hadn't known they'd found the doctor connection yet.

"Well," mused Holly. "That's good. Organized Crime has been looking for that. What's the problem?"

"It's not a match."

Shit. "At all?"

"It's not the same batch. I mean, it's the same drug, but it's not the same ..." Wanda handed over the tablet computer. "Here's this batch, on the right. The left is the batch from the Unicorn place."

Studying the images, it was clearly obvious. They were not the same, and Holly sighed. They were very similar, but not enough. "I'll call this in for you, if that's okay?"

Wanda looked relieved. "Please. I don't want to explain it to Steve Peck again, he's getting snippy."

"And no one does snippy like a Peck," smiled Holly. She sent the files to her own account and went up to call her brother in law.

"Hello, beautiful sister in law," sang Steve. "Please tell me good things."

"Define good?"

"Tell me I found the doctor?"

Holly thought about that for a moment. "How did you pull off that? I'm guessing you sent out a bunch of undercover officers to get prescriptions from a hundred doctors?"

"Close," drawled Steve. "We sent out a couple guys to the list of doctors that had Unicorn and Rackham in common."

"Oh see, that's smart."

"Thank you. Tell my sister I'm smart, will you?"

"You want me to lie?"

Steve laughed. "You've been hanging around Gail too much. I liked you much better when you were nicer."

"Well, you're smart, but you're unlucky. It's not the same Fentanyl." Her brother in law swore. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," he groaned. "Crap. How the hell is it not the same?"

Holly sighed. Steve was going to be difficult, she could just tell. His voice had the same tone as Gail at her most stubborn. Unlike with Gail, where she could babble the science to calm her, Holly went the direct route. The route that warned Steve he was being stupid. "Steven, do you know how humans are related to chimpanzees but we're not the same?"

He hesitated, perhaps sensing his doom. "Yes."

"It's related like that." The groan across the line told her Steve understood. "Now that doesn't mean he didn't change his formula," she pointed out. "Maybe if you find the third shop?"

"Yeah, it just makes it hella hard to tie it in to, y'know, Unicorn. And we need to find the last shop."

"Rainbow isn't it?"

"Weirdly no. It looks... Well that's funny, now that you mention it. Did the lab test all the pot at Unicorn?" Steve had a bone to chew.

"We did." She hesitated. "I did not personally check if the Fentanyl was all one batch though." And the idea struck her that Unicorn might have been using two doctors and two batches.

She could hear her brother in law's grin. "Would'ja? I would love you forever and you would be my favoritist sister in the whole world."

"I'm telling Gail you said that," laughed Holly, realizing her day just ran away with her. "However yes, I will do so for you." After all, she'd agreed to call him about it. By the laws of the lab, it was her responsibility.

It took much longer than she would have liked. It involved her writing up a tech for not actually doing all the work he said he did. It involved meticulously re-running labs. It ended up getting her home nearly at midnight with a pounding head, an aching back, and a slightly stomach upset to have eaten takeout instead of Gail's food.

At home, Gail was draped over the easy chair in the living room, reading. By contrast Vivian was sound asleep on the couch, her face smushed into the pillows, her tablet precariously perched by her face. "Hey," smiled Gail.

"You waited up?"

"After yelling at my brother." Gail put down her book and shoved Viv's shoulder with a foot. "See? Mom's here. Go to bed."

Sleepily, Vivian gave Holly a hug and stumbled upstairs. "Night, Mom."

Holly eyed their daughter's trail. "What the hell?"

"She wanted to wait up."

"Why?" Holly was bewildered. It was late, her kid had suffered a series of rough days. She should be asleep.

"Well." Gail stretched. "I think she's a little needy about making sure we're here."

Ah. Holly sighed. "Well shit. Now I feel guilty."

Gail stretched and got up. "Don't. She knew where you were. And I was here." As Gail stretched her arms high above her head, her tank top rode up and her baggy sweats slouched down. In a word, Gail was incredibly sexy. And all Holly wanted was eight goddamn hours of sleep. Gail seemed to know that and smiled, taking Holly's bag. "Come on. Shower, sleep."

Letting her wife take her bag, Holly followed Gail upstairs. "Why did you stay up?"

"I like seeing your pretty face," mused Gail, carrying the briefcase to their office.

That seemed like the only answer she was going to get out of Gail, so Holly went to their bedroom and stripped for her shower. Gail wasn't back by the time she got out, and Holly fell onto the bed, face first. She was getting too old to do that kind of lab work all day. "I'm too old for this shit," she told Gail as she heard the bedroom door close.

"Why didn't you ask a tech? Assuming you're talking about being bent over a workbench all day. And not in the fun way."

Holly snorted a laugh into the pillow. "I am. And because they fucked it up already."

"Oooooh," chuckled Gail. "You swore. It must be bad."

"You have no idea."

"Tell me about it?"

Grimacing, Holly shook her head. "I just want to hurt less and sleep, honey."

The bed dipped and suddenly Gail sat on Holly's upper legs. "Well. How about I help with that." Her voice was soft and warm and just a little suggestive.

"Gail," groaned Holly, and not in a good way. The last thing she could deal with right now was an amorous Gail. Not that she didn't love that or want that, but everything hurt at the moment. "I love you but I am so wiped out - oh!" The sensation of warm oil hit her back, followed by Gail's warm hands kneading it in. "Oh my god," she managed, this time groaning with relief.

The pressure from Gail's hands was finding the knots in her lower back and pushing them out and away. "You're tired, I know. But you will toss and turn all night. Did you take some pain killers?"

"Uh huh," mumbled Holly, closing her eyes as her wife massaged her. "Two."

"Good." Dear god, Gail knew her so well now. Sometimes Holly wondered if Gail knew her better than she knew herself. "Do you want to tell me about the lab?"

It would help distract her brain, which had a tendency to want to twitch her away from the massage. Holly always had a problem relaxing into a massage. "Yeah," she sighed. "So. The techs who ran the pot for drugs didn't run everything. I mean they didn't run all the samples. Nor did they do it properly."

"By properly do you mean won't hold up in court or not to your exacting standards?"

"Second one. I had to re-do all of it with Wanda."

"Ew," agreed Gail. "Did you and Dr. Cougar Hunter find anything?"

"She's going out with people closer to her own age now, Gail." Holly smiled.

"That's only because she's closer to 40 now," sassed Gail.

It had been over a decade but Gail still liked to harass Wanda about asking Holly out. And, yes, Holly let it go every time. Mostly. "Stop it."

"Sooooooorry," laughed Gail, pressing a particularly tough knot.

It popped and Holly exhaled loudly. Relief flooded her system. "God, you are amazing."

"You're welcome." Her wife was so cheeky. And really good at getting the knots out of Holly's back. Oh god.

Holly practically purred. "This is really what I needed," she noted.

"Good." The heel of Gail's hand pressed below her shoulder blade, dragging down towards her butt.

As the tightness in her back eased, Holly was able to relax her limbs. "We found two different strains of Fentanyl, common to all three shops."

Gail made a noise. "Two. Awesome. Multiple doctors."

"That's your bone to gnaw, detective," sighed Holly.

This time Gail didn't reply. She concentrated on easing out the pain and tension and basically turning Holly into jelly. Eventually, the massaged lightened and became Gail gently sweeping her hands on Holly's back and shoulders. Less of a rub and more an affirmation that Gail was there and Holly was loved.

Moments later, Gail was jostling her awake. "Holly, come on, you need to get a shirt on," cajoled Gail, helping her into her sleep shirt. "There you go." The comfortable weight on her legs was gone and the light went off. Then the bed dipped again and Gail was snuggled up alongside. "Good night. I love you." Gail's lips touched Holly's forehead.

Too tired to reply, Holly smiled and hoped the sentiment was understood.

"Martin Badondo."

Nick looked up. "The name for me in your novelization of our life?"

"No, that's Crawlins." Holding out the tablet, Vivian explained, "Badando is the real name of our Mr. Gorsky."

Her TO screwed up his face. "I'm not sure which name is worse. Batando?"

"Badondo. Two Ds." Vivian sat on the edge of Nick's desk. "Gorsky was in the army, died in the last dust up with Russia. Badando was drummed out as a recruit for conduct unbecoming, which is a fancy way to say he was in a fight with an officer and decked him. When he got back, he used Gorsky's info to get an ID and tried to live as him. His girlfriend never knew."

Taking the tablet, Nick studied the file. "Poor guy," he muttered. "How did he know Gorsky?"

Vivian grinned ear to ear. "He didn't."

Nick eyed her. He looked a little nervous. "Jesus stop looking like your mother. It's creepy enough when Gail does it. What do you know?"

She checked her nails, buffed them on her shirt, and grinned more. "I know a lot of things, Officer Collins." He scowled, clearly frustrated with her, and she leaned in a bit. "I'm a Peck. I know all about guns, I know about cars, I can pick locks, and I know a forgery when I see one."

The older officer's face changed. "What?"

Taking her tablet back, Vivian tapped and pulled up the evidence photos. "That, sir, is not Gorsky's original ID. That isn't an ID with a swapped photo. That is a fake, and out of date, ID. They changed 'em this year. The background of any driver's license made in the last 7 months should have the King's seal there."

Nick sat up. "That could be..."

"His SSN isn't Gorksky's either. It's some kid who died as a baby. I pulled up Badondo's ID from before the army, which was at another base by the way, and here. That one there is Badondo. Here's Gorsky from the same time."

They looked at the photos. The men looked nothing alike, had never met, and had only a tenuous connection. "And here I was feeling sorry for him," muttered Nick.

"Because he was in the Army?"

Nick nodded. "Well. Let's go talk to Dov and the Ds." Vivian pointed at herself, surprised. Lately all the talk with the detectives had been just Nick. "Yes, you too. You're ready." Pushing away from the desk, Nick added, "Three coffees. Me, Dov, Traci."

"Four?' She held up four fingers and poked her thumb at herself.

"Four."

Vivian had to keep herself from skipping as she went to get the coffees. Good ones too, not the swill they had in the station. On a whim, and a weird memory from Noelle teasing her in her first week about not brining coffee, she Peck'ed it up and picked one more. Soy latte, no sugar, one stevia, extra shot.

As she hustled back into the station and to Dov's office, she spotted Noelle's desk empty. "Little Peck. One of those better be for me," called out the sassier inspector. Noelle was standing in the doorway to Dov's office.

"Yes, ma'am," grinned Vivian, bounding up the stairs.

"Suck up," coughed Rich as she passed him.

Throwing out her grandfather's favorite quote, Vivian sang, "Chance favors the prepared mind!"

Noelle held Dov's door open and plucked the coffee with her name on it off the tray. "You know, I ain't going easy on you just 'cause your parents are white shirts."

"My mother never wears a white shirt. Too much of a target. And technically it's a white lab coat."

"I bet you think you're clever," smiled Noelle.

"Frequently."

She sighed and pointed to the desk. "Dov, was our little Peck this much of a pain in the ass as a rook?"

Dov smiled, "Not quite as smart mouthed, I think."

Handing out the coffees, and taking her own, Vivian smiled. "I'm a rookie, ma'am. I'm just here to listen and learn, that's all." And she took up a stance of innocence on the wall.

"Anyone believe that?" Traci smiled at Vivian. No one raised their hands. "Right. You're here because you spotted the forgery before the lab. Report just came in. Want to explain how you knew that?"

Vivian looked at Nick. "The seal was missing. It's... Um. Elaine has weird hobbies?" Her erstwhile grandmother had a copy of every single iteration of the Province ID since forever.

"And you memorized them?" Traci looked actually surprised. In all her life knowing the detective, Vivian had never seen her surprised before.

Her mothers were brilliant. Holly kept all her science information in her head but she considered Gail the genius who memorized conversations. Vivian couldn't really do either, not like they could. But she did remember pictures, the way things looked. It was probably from all the diagrams in her engineering classes. "Apparently?"

The experienced officers exchanged looks. "I didn't know Pecks did embarrassed," chuckled Dov. "It's good work, Peck."

That was good. Right? "Thank you, sir."

"Now. Shut up and listen."

Smiling, Vivian did exactly that. The older officers talked around the case. Traci had some people in on a counterfeiting ring, which this was probably related to, but she was short on undercover people. "Everyone's tied up with the pot lacing case, so I'm happy to give you guys a D to work on this, but you're going to have to supply your own UC... And I need a favor."

For a fleeting moment, Vivian had a dream that she'd get to do real undercover work. Better than the food trucks. Something real.

What she got was sitting at a desk going over ID after ID as she looked for patterns. Because she was good at patterns and diagrams. "I think I got played," she muttered to Nick, seated next to her.

"If it makes you feel better, I wanted the UC too." He flicked through the pages on the tablet.

She frowned. "Is this because of Tuesday?" Tuesday they'd seen a man blow his head off. Tuesday had weirdly been the opening shot (hah, that was a Gail joke) of this debacle.

Her TO looked up. "God. I hope not." Then he glanced at her. "You good?"

Nodding, Vivian tapped an ID and highlighted it for the Ds. "I am, apparently, really good at this," she sighed.

Nick leaned over. "Wow. Okay, so you're going to be a detective?"

"Eh, never really wanted to. I want... Okay, can you promise not to laugh?"

"May I fall subject to Gail's ingenuity again."

That would do. "I wanted to be a cop like Oliver," she said softly.

The man looked at her. "Huh. Yeah, okay. You know what, I'm thinking that's alright."

But Nick didn't seem to notice that she'd used the past tense. What Vivian wanted now was not what she'd wanted at thirteen. That was normal, though. Gail was always saying what she'd wanted as a teenager, and a young adult, and a grown adult, and a married mother, they were all vastly different.

They said nothing more about it until lunch. Which was how long it took them to fulfill Traci's favor. Then and only then were they able to move on to another part of the case. Refueling the detectives. "Okay, Nick, I really think they're doing this on purpose," she grumbled, pulling in the Sally Port with the food order.

"Dov said not," he sighed. "You know it's normal to be benched for days after a shooting."

"We didn't shoot him." Yes, it was terrible. And yes, it had fucked her up in many ways, but ... Damn it, work was easier than anything else for her right now.

"It was your first death."

Oh. It wasn't, but how were they to know? She scowled. "Nick. We're cops. Why can't they let us be cops?"

Her partner sighed. "You are Gail's kid alright." He shook his head.

"You're not worried about me," Vivian said, with a sudden realization.

"You? No. Your folks'll do that. They're ... Y'know. They're good people."

Having no reply to that, Vivian sighed and carried the boxes into the bullpen. Then she brought the last box to Noelle in her office. "Can I bribe you?"

Noelle stared at her, confused. "That's not subtle at all."

"Giving me and Nick grunt work, matching IDs. That's analyst work. That's for rookie detectives. And I know Traci's got one." She put the box down and tried to project her best Gail. "I'm a street cop. This is stupid. Let me be a cop."

Putting her pen down, Noelle opened the take out box. "I do like noodles," she mused. "Do you know why you and Nick are being kept inside?" She had a guess, but Vivian shook her head and Noelle pointed at the door.

"If it's about the Greens," she said carefully, closing the door, and then stopped. She didn't know where to go with that. "I'm fine." She wasn't. Not really. But focusing on the work was easier than anything else at the moment.

"It's not. Or at least Dov thinks it's not. He doesn't know."

Vivian arched her eyebrows. She knew Dov didn't know about her birth family in detail. Gail had promised that very few people knew. But that he didn't know anything was a little surprising. "Uh, he knows they're dead."

"Yeah, and that's all he knows. They're dead, you weren't home, you got fostered and adopted." Noelle was very firm about that.

Chewing her lip, Vivian said, "But you know." There was something in the way Noelle spoke that made it a certainty about things. She knew something.

Noelle nodded slowly. "When your moms got ready to foster you, they talked to me and Frank and Oliver about how to make sure you were comfortable. Safe."

It really felt raw and galling to have a boss who knew that. Even though Vivian knew Noelle didn't know the whole story, she knew more than other people had a right to know. "You're not why ... Are you?"

"No! I thought getting you back out there right away would be better. Shrink cleared you. Dov though... "

"He shot that kid when he was new," realized Vivian, the story jumping into her head. "But this isn't the same!"

"I know. And if you weren't someone he loves like a daughter, I doubt he'd react like this." Noelle sighed. "So. I can't put you on the ID scam case. But I can ..." She tapped on her computer. "I need someone to do some leg work. Go look for birds."

Vivian blinked. "Birds?"

"Yeah, your Uncle Peck wants to know about eagles and their habitats."

"Eagles? In Toronto?"

"Back in 2014, a pair of bald eagles started nesting in High Park. We have some bird nerds-"

"Ornithologists." When Noelle glared, Vivian smothered a smile. "Sorry. Blame Holly."

"Oh, I will," sighed Noelle, but she was smiling too. "You and Nick go talk to him. Dr. Bishop. Here's the address." She handed over a slip of paper. The UoT Ornithology department. Eagles. Uncle Steve. The connections clicked. This was the pot case. Vivian grinned ear to ear. "Thanks, Noelle. You're the best."

"I bet you say that to all the inspectors," smiled Noelle, starting to eat the noddles. "Shoo."

Vivian bopped out of the office grinning. She got to help research the case. She could help find the third, mystery, brother. Or the Eagles Cross. This could be great. It could be nothing. It was better than staring at papers all day.

Her daughter was chatty.

That rarely happened, and it was quite unexpected after the week she'd had, so Gail let it go and listened to Vivian wax on about how she and Nick had spent the afternoon looking up birds. Birds. Vivian was over the moon about birds. As the youngest member of the household mixed the ingredients for potstickers, she explained how she and Nick had gone bird watching.

"Bald Eagles, right, they like water. Lakes. Oceans. Marshes. And yeah, rivers. So we told Dr. Bishop we found eagle shit on the shoe of a river worker, and wanted to know where the likely possible locations could be."

"Okay, that's pretty smart. Who had the idea?" Her kid beamed at her. "Nicely done. Heard about the IDs too. When did you learn that?"

Vivian shrugged, not dismissively but genuinely unsure. "Second year of college, I think. Remember I was taking that insane mechanical engineering class with two labs? He wanted us all to just know those stupid shear force diagrams by week two?" Gail nodded. She'd seen Vivian's wall plastered with them for study aides. "I think getting all those in me did it."

Smiling, Gail broke an egg into a shallow bowl. "I actually meant when did you memorize the IDs."

"Oh, they're in a book at Elaine's. I was over there for your last birthday."

That had been Vivian's idea, all her own. Gail refused to feel guilty about it. "And you just read random books?"

"Well. I don't know if you noticed, but Elaine's kinda old, Mom. She fell asleep so I tucked her in bed and had to kill time somehow." She paused. "Noelle knows about that too, huh?"

"Well..." Gail paused and then laughed, recognizing the speech pattern. "Sorry. Yes, she does. She was awake when Holly picked you up." That was so long ago, if felt almost like another life.

Vivian nodded and was thoughtful in her silence for a while. "She said Dov didn't know."

"He doesn't." As soon as Gail had read the file the first time, she'd done something she hated. Something she'd sworn never to try. She'd used her name and her family to push the courts. "They've been sealed since you were six, Viv." Her daughter stiffened but started to fold the potstickers. "I told you. The only people who've seen what's in them, at Fifteen, is me and Noelle."

The hazel eyes looked up in doubt. "Steve and Traci?"

"Nope." Gail leaned on the counter and took a deep breath. "Viv. I didn't want everyone to know and look at you like they used to look at me. They know in general what happened. They don't know the details and they won't from me. And they won't from Noelle."

The eyes blinked wetly and Vivian went back to making food. "Thanks."

Gail nodded. "You ... You sound okay. You know you can tell me anything. As your mom."

Her daughter nodded again, but stayed silent for a long moment. "I'm relieved," she finally said, quietly. "I feel ... I feel better. Whole. With a w."

"Good clarification." She smiled at the younger Peck. "If you need anything, sweetheart."

"Honest, Mom. I'm .. I'm better." That didn't sound like avoidance either. Gail exhaled and nodded. "I think work helps."

Gail nodded and got two beers out. "I hear ya. But just be careful." When Vivian nodded, Gail smiled. "Anyway. Tell me about the eagles, will you? You think it's birds?"

Her daughter looked relieved. "We matched up their nesting areas to places where three rivers crossed."

It was a nice idea that Vivian though the rivers and eagles were literal. Hunting that down kept her out of trouble at least. Gail just felt that river was an analogy for brothers, and had finally gotten Zanaro to agree to be interviewed. She sent Pedro, her youngest rising star, off with John for that one. John grumbled it was because he'd not actually brought Janet, his girlfriend, over to meet the Peck/Stewart clan, and Gail had ended up trapping them at a restaurant in order to meet her.

Of course it wasn't. John was smart, good at his job, and a great teacher. And anyway, Gail liked Janet. She was a professional chef and had won an episode of Chopped Canada when she was younger. Right away she and Gail had started talking about cooking. After that, they'd had her over for a dinner that the two cooked, much to the delight of Holly, John, and Vivian.

In Janet, she saw a change in John. Maybe the things he'd learned from Rachel had put him in a place where now, years later, he was ready for more than just dating. Maybe.

She wasn't going to push him.

They were done with the first batch when Holly came home. "Can I be done with long days, Pecks?" She fell into a stool at the kitchen island.

Gail got her a beer. "Mine are up next, I'm afraid," she warned her wife, kissing her temple.

"Do I want to know?" Holly popped the cap off the beer and took a long swing.

"I sent John to New Brunswick."

Holly eyed her. "Are we back on the people part of your investigation?"

"And apparently an ornithological angle. I'm sure Vivian will be collecting bird poop for you soon enough."

"Rodney will enjoy that," said Holly decisively and Gail laughed. "Can I eat one now or is that gauche?"

Vivian pushed the plate and sauce over. "I never get between Mom and the food," she joked. "I'm making the rest into satay." As Vivian turned back to her cooking, she asked, "Gauche means left. Why is it used to ask if something's socially derpy?"

The doctor shrugged. "Don't ask me, I'm not the linguist."

Pulling a stool closer to Holly, Gail wrapped an around around her wife's waist and picked up a potsticker. "It was considered the height of awkward and social gracelessness to be left handed." The food was great.

Holly leaned into her and made a pleased noise. "Feed me, wife."

"So pushy," teased Gail, but she did dip one and fed it to Holly. "How's your back?"

"Much better," smiled Holly. "Viv this is really good. But why are you cooking?"

"Mom beat me at the range."

They'd gone to the range after shift with Noelle, having a normal night of shooting. Gail hadn't intended to make a competition of it, but Noelle asked if Vivian threw the competition last November, so they had a bit of a shoot out then and there. Gail pulled her phone out and showed the targets to Holly, who laughed.

"Honey, have you learned nothing? No one beats your mom at target competitions."

Vivian flipped her mothers off. "I can beat her on long distance," muttered the child.

It was true, too. "You need to work on your rifles," she mused, smiling at her daughter and feeding Holly another potsticker. Gail needed glasses to read now, and she was dreading the loss of any more visual acuity. Needing glasses to shoot wasn't insurmountable, but it wasn't good. She'd already talked to her eye doctor about prescription shooting glasses.

"How come you never come shooting?" Vivian added more potstickers to the plate.

"I don't like it," replied Holly, reaching over to pick up a potsticker and feed it to Gail. "I did it once, though."

Vivian eyed Gail who nodded. "Huh. You're so different. Sometimes I wonder how you guys ended up together at all."

Kissing Gail's cheek, Holly replied, "I wonder too." Gail smirked and pinched Holly's side. Holly slapped her shoulder. "Do you have to go to NB?"

"No," smiled Gail. She let go of Holly's waist to rub her shoulder. "John's just working with Pedro and interviewing."

"Lucky," yawned Holly. "Can we eat on the couch?"

It was Vivian who sassed, "Yes you may."

Holly, the grammar snob, sighed. "I deserved that." She took the plate of potstickers to the coffee table.

"Fine, but we're not watching that stupid show about the opera singer," complained Gail. They ended up watching a political drama about a UN ambassador who was embroiled in a scandal with a country who had an embargo. There was some side plot about how the aide was sleeping with another ambassador who was married, but they all ignored that.

They were all in their rooms before eleven, and one presumed their beds. Gail was certainly in the bed and curled up, ready for her wife. When Holly slipped into the bed, Gail's toes found she'd shaved, and the blonde ooooohed appreciatively. "Remember when you asked me why I shaved my legs if I was a lesbian," teased Holly.

"Remember when I didn't shave my legs for a winter?" Gail slid her bare legs along Holly's.

"How did I get you to start shaving again?" Holly grinned and turned the lights off.

"You bought me that flannel dress." It had been a shirt, but Gail had worn it as a shirt dress, which had proven the point to both of them. Shaving did not make her any more or less butch than a flannel shirt. Gail shaved, and Holly appreciated the style choice.

Holly nestled into the bed, swarming over two thirds of it. "The only flannel you own," she teased.

Smiling, Gail closed her eyes. "I have those pajama pants. Besides, you look better in flannel." A pause. "And out of flannel." Holly laughed and poked her arm. "Night. Love."

Her wife stretched and put her head by Gail's shoulder. "Love," she replied. "Sleep."

It used to be weird, falling asleep with someone. Now it was weird not doing so. Now the normal was a house with a wife on her side, breathing deeply. "Yeah," smiled Gail. "Love."

Somehow Jenny had convinced the owner of the Penny to put their scoreboard up on the wall. And someone had filled in information for all of them. All. That meant Vivian was included. As she read off the points allocated for the week, Vivian realized it was Traci's handwriting. Damn it. That was tacit approval by the Pecks that counted.

"Thirty?" That was Christian, holding out a beer.

"I think it's for the forgery. God knows we came up empty on bird watching." She'd been so sure, too. The brothers in the story, the modern brothers, were the Bird Brothers.

Her friend huh'd and looked at his score. He'd been helping surveillance while the experienced officers tried to buy fake IDs. "Ten. Well. I sat in a van with Rich for seven hours. How did you not kill him?"

"The bane of having my moms, I know I'd be caught."

"Yeah. That would suck. How's the gang thing going?"

Vivian made a face. "Fuck all. We've checked a bunch of eagle nesting ground, and Noelle said we get to do it all next week too."

They walked over to the rookie table. "So you're playing now?" Rich was such a jerk.

"I didn't fill it in," shrugged Vivian.

Jenny slid into the seat beside her. "Traci and Steve Peck did. They're nice." Sharing a nod with Vivian, Jenny added, "Which I guess is approval?"

"From the Pecks who matter. You know he's my uncle, right?"

The other rookie shook her head. "Steve's your uncle? So ... Wait..."

Turning, Vivian spotted Gail. "The blonde sitting by him is my mom. His sister." Jenny peeked around and startled. "Yes," sighed Vivian.

"Holy crap, no wonder you didn't want to play." Jenny looked apologetic.

"I doubt she actually cares," Vivian mused.

"Yeah but she's... I mean, she has a freaking OOM!"

Rich frowned. "OOM?"

"Officer of the Order of Merit," explained Christian. "Just of the police, right? Not the other one?"

"Yeah, she has to wear it when she's in her blues." Vivian had been present to that ceremony. It had been back when John and Chloe got their MOMs, and Gail had gotten bumped, much to her annoyance. "I think the RVO bugs her more." When Rich opened her mouth, she added, "Royal Victorian Order. For personal services to the King."

He stared at her. "Bullshit."

So Vivian pulled out her phone and tapped into the police article. There was a photo of Gail and Holly and herself and the King. "I was fifteen when she got it."

"That is a lot to live up to," muttered Jenny, looking at the photo. "Also you are incredibly short for fifteen."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Late bloomer." She took her phone back. "You can look up the case of you want."

The annoying man shook his head, looking actually scared for once. Twice, if Vivian counted the time he'd seen the dead guy in the pot shop. Three times. On Thursday he'd been scared about Gail as well. "She's going to kill me, isn't she? For ... For hitting on your other mom."

"Unlikely," smiled Vivian.

"Totally likely," said Christian.

"She didn't kill Ger- Duncan. And he was her rookie for a while." The fact that Duncan used to be called Gerald was a secret Vivian kept for him. He didn't need the help with his rep. Duncan was not well respected as a TO.

Over at the old guard table, Gail was leaning around Traci to point at Nick. It was different to watch it now, from all the way over at the rookie table, knowing she could go over and she'd be welcome, but she would feel out of place. It was just the first steps really away from her parents.

Gail caught her look and lifted a beer at her. There was nothing said. Nothing needed to be said. They understood each other well. They always had. As much as it pained Vivian to admit, Holly was right. Vivian had a different connection with Gail. They'd been alike from the very start, loath she'd been to admit it at six. No, back then she remembered not trusting anyone, not even the goofy blonde with a weird sense of humor. Not the smiling brunette who was all kinds of awkward around her.

That first year they'd all walked on eggshells until Holly got sick. Then ... What Vivian remembered most was seeing Gail put her first. It didn't matter how much pain Gail was in, and yes, Vivian could see it even then. No matter what, Vivian came first. Really, no one in her memory had done that before. So, spotty as she knew it to be now, Gail firmed herself up as someone who could be trusted. Relied on. If they wanted Vivian.

Funny how things changed in eighteen years.

Her mother made a face and signed 'turn around.'

Taking the hint, Vivian focused back on the conversations at hand. Rich wasn't paying attention either, though, which was interesting. She leaned towards him and asked, quietly, "Hey, Rich. You know ASL?"

He blinked at her. "ASL? Uh, no. Why?"

"Your dad."

Rich's eyes widened. "Don't-" He stopped and looked at Vivian in surprise and then guilt. "Oh." Rich looked beyond Vivian and over at the other tables.

She nodded. "So I know ASL. A little LSQ. Both."

The rakish, I'm-so-cool look faded from his face. Rich was just another guy. "Can't lip read?"

"Not well. I never needed to." Vivian shrugged. "It's cool though. Noelle was impressed."

"Not really a cop thing, though," muttered Rich.

Ah. He had that stigma. "Neither is running a marathon or being able to re-wire a radio," pointed out Vivian. "But they are. That's the stuff that makes us smart, y'know?"

Rich pointed at the old guard's table. "What can she do?"

"Linguist. Gave me all kinds of shit for flunking a French test once."

"Yeah, but that's useful!"

"Oh and lip reading wasn't?" Vivian beamed as Rich went silent. Boo yah. "She cooks too. My other mom's the sporto. Hockey."

Rich snorted a laugh. "My dad's a ballet dancer."

"That's cool. What kind? Russian? French?" A deaf ballet dancer was a wild idea, but from her fling with Skye, Vivian knew that a lot of artists were deaf.

She and Rich talked about that, ballet and the arts, for much of the night. Jenny joined in, having an appreciation for classical music. It was, perhaps, not the expected conversations folks might have at the Penny, but it was fun. It was entertaining.

The next morning, Saturday, Vivian was up at six. Gail was sitting downstairs with coffee and her iPad, looking surprised to see her. "Why are you up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," smiled Vivian, pulling on her running shoes. "I'm meeting the ETF guys at the park."

Gail screwed up her face. "Ew. Have fun."

"And you are up because..."

"Hot flashes. And your mother is snoring."

"Ew," laughed Vivian, kissing Gail's forehead. "I'll be back by lunch."

"You say that like it means I'm supposed to do something," Gail said, teasingly.

Of course, Gail would do something. Probably make a lunch for Vivian as well as herself. It was just what Gail did. She just didn't make a fuss about it.

Stretching outside, Vivian squinted at the sun. It was still hot and sticky in September, but the air had that quality that said it would change soon. The wetness was different. More earthy. What did Holly say? No, it was from Doctor Who. The smell of the earth after the first drop of rain. Petrichor.

She thought about nothing more than words and meanings as she jogged down the street and over to the park. The park near their house had been reinvented a few years back. It used to be a normal, dingy sort of park that pre-teen Vivian wasn't allowed to visit on her own. Then the neighborhood started having Farmers Markets in the spring and summer. The money from that led to an outdoor pool being built, and then an ice skating rink. Most recently they'd put in exercise sets, like adult jungle gyms. Gail called it the American Ninja Warrior phenomenon, which was having a nice resurgence.

And that was, actually, what the ETF guys liked to do. Ivan, Eric, Duane, and Sabrina all wanted to be on the show and regularly made plans to drive to Pittsburgh or Detroit or New York for try-outs. So far they'd never made it to the course, but Eric had camped out a week in the standby line. Two of them, Duane and Sabrina, were already at their favorite part of the park, playing on the monkey bars.

"Aren't you guys a little old for that?" They were only a few years older than she was, but she'd been running with them since Sue invited her along on an ETF run when she'd been 19. Gail still thought they were all insane.

"Shut up, ya rookie," laughed Sabrina. "Quad Steps to the monkey bars. Swing across to the uneven logs. From there do the tire swing to the free rope. Climb to the top, transfer to the pole, slide down, ten ten sit ups, then sprint to the gate."

Dryly, Vivian noted, "I bet you spent all night thinking that up."

Duane, who shared an apartment with Sabrina, muttered, "She did. Mapped it out and everything."

But it was, Vivian had to admit, fun to do. There was no friendly water to land on here, nor comfy pads. It was just dirt and wood chips, which Holly had dug out of Vivian's legs and arms on more than one occasion. She'd been a klutzy, filthy, sporto for years, it was true, but she had fun, and she couldn't knock that.

Vivian's chances for fun were still few and far between. She was always going to carry the ghosts of her birth parents around with her. They would always haunt her doubts and fears. At the same time, she had two amazing guardian angels in the form of her mothers. They loved her in an open way that was healing. They defended her, protected her, and let her go out on her own.

In that way, she felt like she was making progress as a human. A good person. A person who could have fun.

Chapter Text

There were simple pleasures in life. Holding Gail's hand as they walked through the park near their house was one of them. Gail's fingers were laced through her own, not too sweaty. Of course, it was October and the market Gail loved all summer was gone a month, finally replaced by the autumn market. That meant it was chilly, but also that Gail wanted to wander and find fresh vegetables and foods.

As they walked through the stalls, Holly saw a pair of teenaged boys holding hands looking shyly proud of themselves. It was so different from the look of abashed defiance she'd seen in her youth. Back then, they were daring if they held hands with someone of the same gender. Homosexuals rarely kissed them outside of parades. But the boys were just carrying on with the same levels of awkward of any teen, just trying to figure out what romance was.

One of them caught her eyes, looked down a little and grinned at her, a blush tinging his face. Holly glanced down at her own hand, the tan fingers laced with Gail's pale ones, and smiled back.

When she'd been a young girl, the idea of having a girlfriend and holding hands was a pipe dream. First of all, Holly hadn't realized she was gay, or really what that meant at all, until she'd been kissing a boy and failed to understand all the fuss. Then she'd kissed a girl. And then it made sense. Secondly, as a girl there had been no concept of marriage for lesbians. Two boys, two girls, whatever. They didn't get married. Thirdly, and most important, Holly hadn't ever seen herself as the marrying sort.

And here she was, nineteen years married to an impish, unpredictable, goofy, loving woman. Now things like marriage equality was pretty much universal. Nearly every nation had given up the fight and accepted it as just another thing.

"Hey, Gail," she said as they paused at the crosswalk. "I like spending time with you."

"Useful," mused Gail, looking entertained. "Seeing as you just spent a day with me."

"Goof. I mean all the time. I like you."

Gail smiled. "What's going on in your nerdy brain that brought that on?"

"Pretty much everyone can get married now."

Her wife tilted her head and looked up. "All the Americas. All of Europe. Australia. Most of Asia..." Gail chuckled. "Remember when Russia finally passed the law?"

That had been fairly recently. The then new Prime Minister had announced that in the interests of human rights, they were withdrawing forces from Lithuania and that it was no longer punishable to be homosexual. He was the first Prime Minister since Putin to not be a member of the United Russia party, and instead was elected from the minority party A Just Russia.

That had kicked off a tidal wave of activity internally. By the end of his tenure, Russia had begun their plans to withdraw troops from the former Soviet Bloc. Then he became the President of Russia, a position he held until his death, and performed a gay marriage.

Everyone had become quite fond of him. His assassination was horrifying and, instead of destroying the work he'd done, made it even more solid. It cemented the change in Russia, and the new law had survived a coup and an invasion of Ukraine. Again. Some things never changed, and yet everything changed all the time.

"That was a good day," agreed Holly, squeezing Gail's hand. "This is too."

Gail made a face. "Going shopping and for a walk on Sunday morning is a good day?"

"Yes," Holly said firmly. "With you."

"You are being very weirdly romantic, you goof," laughed Gail, her canines flashing in delight.

"I think I'm allowed."

"Oh yes," agreed the blonde, leaning over to kiss Holly's cheek. "Very allowed. Always allowed."

They walked a little longer in silence. "Your birthday is next month," Holly noted.

Her wife winced. "No, no, I'm not having any more."

"Big five-oh," teased Holly. Gail let go of Holly's hand to jam her fingers in her ears and chant 'la-la-la' at the top of her lungs. "Goofball," she laughed, grabbing Gail's hand and squeezing it. "I already reserved the range that night. Oliver wants to throw a party at the Penny."

Gail pouted. "I hate the parties. And next year we have to have one for being stupid married twenty years, like it was some horribly difficult feat."

"I think it's to show off how awesome we are and how easy we make it look."

That gave her wife pause. "Oh. Well that's okay. We are awesome."

Grinning, Holly kept walking down the street. "That we are."

They were quiet for another block. "Holly, really, I don't want a big party. Can't we go shooting and then have drinks at the Penny and go home and try to make another baby?"

It wasn't what Holly expected Gail to say, and it made her laugh. The part about drinks, sure, but... "You're an idiot," she laughed.

"Oh really?"

"I'm a doctor, Gail, and that's not how it works."

Gail, impossibly impish, lifted her eyebrows. "I mean if you want to buy me a new toy..." And she leered.

"Never change," giggled Holly.

"Only in good ways," Gail promised, canines showing as she smiled back. Her phone rang and Gail sighed loudly. "Peck," she announced into the phone, making a face at Holly by way of apology.

Holly grinned and took the shopping bag from Gail and watched her walk off to the side of the path, head down, listening intently. Very carefully, Holly eased her phone out of her pocket and took a photo of Gail. The serious mien on her face was rare, and Holly sent it to Elaine.

Your daughter, Super Peck.

The reply text was amusing.

That is the look of someone annoyed to be bothered on her weekend.

Yeah. It was that face too. Gail caught her eyes and made a childishly goofy face. Propping her phone against her shoulder, Gail signed that it was the gang case. Carefully, Holly signed back asking if they needed to go home. The quick reply of 'no' was appreciated and Gail hung up a moment later.

"Saving the world?"

"Smoking the world." Gail shoved her phone away and mimed smoking a joint. "The bird angle is coming up short."

Holly arched her eyebrows. "Was that my lab?" She held out her free hand.

Shaking her head, Gail took Holly's hand. "Dr. Bishop."

"Ah, the very odd ornithologist."

Gail laughed. "If you think he's weird, he must be bizarre," she joked.

"Oh and you don't?"

"Oh I think he is very weird, Ms. Coatcheck."

"That's Dr. Coatcheck," Holly said, primly. "I didn't spent five years at Jacket Medical School to be Ms. anything."

With a smile, Gail leaned over and kissed her. "Mrs. Doctor Coatcheck, my bad."

"You married me," smiled Holly.

"You asked."

"You said yes."

They both grinned. They'd bantered like that for almost twenty years now. It didn't really matter who'd asked whom. They both knew that. It didn't matter in the slightest that Holly had been listed as Vivian's father until, at nineteen, the kid had taken herself to the courthouse to get it corrected. It mattered that they were still there and still them.

"You came when I needed you," noted Gail, her voice a little quieter.

"I'll always come," promised Holly, equally quietly. "Any time. Anywhere."

Those moments in time were Holly's favorites. They could repeat the conversations, the fragments of instances in their lives, a hundred times. The meanings remained. They were the moments to make you smile.

The worst part about living at home, besides the fact that she'd accidentally walked in on her moms on the couch, again, for the fifth time since summer ended, was that she caught an earful from both parents for the scrape on her arm.

"Wow, Peck, what happened to you?" Jenny bumped into her as Vivian was rolling down the sleeves on her uniform shirt.

"I slipped in some mud," she sighed. Vivian hated the long-sleeved shirts. They felt restrictive.

Jenny took hold of Vivian's wrist and pushed the sleeve up. "And went to the ER? Nice bandage."

With a grimace, Vivian pulled her arm back. "No. My mom's a doctor. You know that."

"A dead people doctor."

"And a mother. She over-reacts sometimes." Holly had been concerned with infection and, after Vivian's shower, plunked her down for some antibiotic cream and a medical grade wrap. Gail had laughed. A lot.

"So no stitches?" Jenny smirked and elbowed Vivian as they walked into parade.

"Yes," deadpanned Vivian. "Eight stitches. And she did it in the kitchen." There was a brief pause when Jenny looked like she bought it, and Vivian shoved her shoulder. "You're an idiot, just so you know."

There was a story Uncle Steve loved to tell, when he and the other Old Guard were a couple beers in, about how Holly had stitched his back up in the kitchen of the old townhouse. Vivian knew the townhouse. They'd lived there for a short time when she'd just moved in, but then they moved to their current house. The summer she'd first heard the story, Steve explained he'd been sitting in the kitchen waiting for them to get back in the middle of the night.

Of course Gail corrected him and pointed out he'd been sitting in the floor, and he'd watched them making out for almost a minute before announcing his presence. Steve countered that his sister had been making fast work on Holly's shirt, which meant it was not his fault that lesbian porn just happened in front of him, and that ended with a sibling tussle. It was hard to remember why she'd even once been nervous around Steve, but Vivian recalled as she had been.

As they sat down at the tables, Vivian glanced over at Nick. She was afraid of him as a child too. Now that she remembered a little more about her father, the fear of Nick made less sense. Nick was nothing like her father. But the brain was a funny place.

"Who doesn't love the zoo?" Dov strolled in from the side door, holding a notebook. When no one answered, he looked up. "No one? Don't answer that, Peck," he pointed at her.

Vivian smiled. "Yes, sir." Holly hated zoos, and everyone who knew that laughed at Vivian and Dov's conversation. Any place that caged animals for show and tell was evil to her soft-hearted mother. Gail shared the sentiment, though. The only times Vivian had gone to the zoo had been with schools.

"We have a party at the zoo today. They're hosting Oktoberfest."

A surprised murmur ran through the room. "But boss, that's supposed to be at the parking lot of Ontario Place!" Duncan spoke as he was raising his hand in confusion.

"The lot flooded. Water pipe burst over the weekend and the zoo offered up their lot. So you guys get to enjoy that last bit of warmth in the out of doors! Rookies, you'll be patrolling the event. Let them be drunk, but stop the disorderly. McNally is in charge. Moore, you get to guard the parking lot while they clean it up. Serve, protect, don't drink the beer till you're out of uniform." The officers laughed and as they got up, Dov added, "Anyone who wants to volunteer to work Thanksgiving, sign up by end of the week. If I don't get enough, I'm drawing from a hat."

Vivian texted Gail, asking if she should volunteer for the holiday work, and went to get her kit. Vests and cameras were de riguer for this sort of thing. As she was strapping in, Nick came up.

"Ever been to Oktoberfest?"

"Couple times," admitted Vivian. "I went last year with some classmates."

"I haven't been in years," muttered the older man.

Right. Because Nick didn't drink at all. She'd never gotten the story on that. "Are you coming to supervise us?"

"No, I'm off to liaison with Anderson about a case you don't get to know about, rookie. Go listen to McNally and Josephs."

Vivian snapped a jaunty salute. "Yes sir, Officer Collins, sir," she grinned.

"You're way too impish, Little Peck," he sighed, but his eyes smiled at her. They were Uncle Nick eyes.

"It could be worse. I could be like Steve." As soon as she said it, Nick laughed and the noise followed her out.

Andy was waiting with Josephs, and tossed her keys. "Peck, take 1504 and Aronson. You stay by the great cats today."

She caught the keys on the air. "1504. What did I do to you, McNally?" The veteran cop laughed at her.

As she and Jenny buckled up, the other legacy cop asked, "Is 1504 the cursed one?"

"Oh yeah," nodded Vivian. "It's been shot, set on fire, hit by a car... Actually I think this is the one McNally drove when Ger- Duncan- Moore was hit in the head by an axe."

Jenny didn't miss it. "Duncan?"

"His step-father is my mom's god-father." Backing up, Vivian added, "Al Santana. Former police chief."

Jenny's head snapped around. "Dumb Ass Duncan is the chief's son!?"

"Step-son. And former chief. Uncle Al was cool. Duncan's always been thick." Her partner for the day snorted and Vivian smiled. She missed Uncle Al.

After a few blocks, Jenny remarked, "You're cooler than I thought you were at the academy."

Cool? No one called her cool. "Me?"

"Yeah, you were all quiet and ... Aloof. Like you had better things to do than to hang out with us."

Vivian shook her head. "Besides pass near the top of the class, no, not really."

"Peck," sighed Jenny. "I would've changed my name."

"I did."

Jenny eyed her. "Wait a second… You changed your name to Peck?"

"Yep!" Vivian popped the P just like Gail did.

"Huh. I don't know why but I guess I assumed you were adopted as a baby."

"Nah, I was six and a bit."

Shaking her head, Jenny made an annoyed sound. "That's insane. Did you think you were gonna get a free pass on stuff as a cop?"

Vivian sighed. "Honest to god, that was the last thing on my mind when I did it." She frowned a little, wondering how to explain it without having to explain everything. "It's just a thing. Okay?"

Her partner eyed her. "A crazy ass thing. Man, I would've taken Dr. Stewart's name— Oh! Is that what the S is for?" When Vivian nodded, Jenny sighed. "You're cool, Peck. You're a little crazy and totally weird, though."

"Tell me something I don't know," sighed Vivian. She pulled the car up at the zoo and eyed the setup for the beer-fest. "Okay, so if the party is here, why are we patrolling the inside?"

Jenny unbuckled. "Josephs told me that they got a nearly free pass to the zoo with the purchase of the beer pass, or whatever it was called. It's the off season, so I guess the zoo wants to attract people."

That made sense, realized Vivian. "Damn them for being all sensible." Locking the car, she flipped on her video. "4727, Peck. At the zoo for bratwurst and the inevitable boob shot."

The other woman laughed. "4749, Aronson. Oktoberfest at the Zoo." She settled her belt. "Why do you wear your gun that far forward?"

Vivian looked down. "I have an uncle who used to pluck 'em from behind." Oliver had spent a month teaching that trick to Vivian, and subsequently how not to be fooled by it. She paused at the gate and smiled brightly at the perplexed ticket taker. "Hi, we're your muscle."

Moments later, they were ushered in and Vivian picked up a map to study. "You need a map? I thought you were born and raised in Toronto."

"I haven't been to the zoo since I was in elementary school. Don't like caged animals." Vivian folded the map and put it in a thigh pocket. When she realized Jenny hadn't said anything, she looked over, questioningly.

"You've got layers, Peck."

Great. She was an onion. "Is that a compliment?"

"I'm just saying. I've known you, what, nine months now? You've got, like, all these secrets and layers and stuff. You're a person, and a kinda cool one."

Vivian eyed Jenny thoughtfully. "I can honestly tell you that very few people have ever, seriously, referred to me as cool."

"Then you knew some real losers," announced Jenny, firmly. "And since I, clearly, am not a loser, then you are going to buy us coffee."

It was weird, but Vivian thought she kind of liked being liked. She rolled her eyes at her partner. "Okay, fine, I'll buy our coffee."

Everyone knew Gail had some problems.

She was almost fifty, she was bitchy and sarcastic, and had a dark sense of humor. She'd struggled with self-esteem issues in her youth, putting on an anti-anything façade fairly early on in life. She didn't trust easily, though that was her parents fault, pretty much making sure she would never feel as if she could rely on anyone else.

But today, at that aforementioned nearly fifty, and for god's sake could everyone please stop planning the party, Gail was confident and steady. She'd been a cop just over half of her life, hitting the twenty-five year marker with her classmates just the year before. She'd been a detective for almost twenty years. She knew her shit and she knew it well.

She also knew when she was being bullshitted by a suspect. In this case, the suspect was a purported member of the Three Rivers gang.

In the interview room was one of her newer detectives, who had followed Gail's directions to the letter. First you asked the suspect for the story, writing down notes on the left column of the notebook (if you can't memorize it on the fly). Every time he said 'then' or 'And so...' you made a new paragraph. Then you went backwards and asked about each point in reverse order. People memorized a story in one direction, so that method had a tendency to trip up the obvious liars.

Alas, their loser wasn't lying about the events. He'd been tasked with delivering drugs. Nothing big and nothing illegal. Just take the weed from the labs, sign for it, and take it to the right dispensary. The illegal part was, on the way, he was to stop at an underpass, wait for someone to come by, open the back of the truck, and then take the drugs to their designated locations.

A little shady, one agreed.

The problem was that he claimed left, right and centre that he didn't know who the people were who messed with the drugs. And Gail didn't believe him.

"He's lying," she said to Traci.

"As the day is long." Her sister in law sipped her coffee. "Gonna go in?"

"In a bit." Gail put her ubiquitous DAD mug down. It was her fourth or fifth iteration. The first had been stolen from Oliver. That one broke when her car blew up. The replacement was a present for adopting Vivian, even though Holly had been named as the father on the forms. That cup broke when a gunman shot into the Division. The third was the one Gail bought herself, broken by Duncan, who bought... Oh right. The one Duncan bought had the stupid rose on it and Gail had let Vivian shoot that one.

That made this number five and the one her actual kid bought for Father's Day, making a joke that Holly was her dad, since she was listed as 'father' on the paperwork. They'd never changed that, even though it was free to do. They all found it too funny.

Gail smiled at the mug. Her daughter had quite a bit of interest in this case. She'd tried to dissuade Vivian, but the girl held on to her attraction. It was something Gail understood, the niggling feeling that there was something deep in the meanings and ideas. There was. There had to be.

Beside her, Traci sighed. "Steve's up a wall about this case. Every time he finds something, he just gets more and more layers."

They hadn't been this smart before. They were better at secrets and possibly more educated. The layers were deep. "So... What? You think this guy's just another layer?"

Traci shook her head. Then she nodded. "I don't know. He doesn't know anything."

"He doesn't seem to know anything," corrected Gail. "Watch my mug. I like this one." She ignored Traci's laugh as she opened the door to interrogation.

Her quasi rookie was leaning on the table. "Before that, though," he said slowly.

"God, before that was what I told you. I got up, I got the phone call, I went to the delivery." The criminal looked up at Gail, confused.

"Hello, Topher." She sat down at the table. "Too many people named Christopher in your school?"

He nodded a little. "Yeah."

"We've had a few here," Gail mused. "So. Why?"

Topher blinked a little. "Why?"

"Yeah. Why."

"I don't... Why what? Why am I here? Shit, you arrested me!"

Gail looked up at her detective. "We arrested him? Detained. Jim, go check on that, will you?" Her detective nodded and went out of the room. Gail studied the young man before her. "We ran a background on you. Top of your class at UCC."

Young Topher looked at the table. "Scholarship," he muttered.

"Yeah, that's not easy either. You're a smart guy. Why all this?" He didn't answer. Gail leaned back in her chair. How best to lower the bar, she mused. "They trust you a lot for delivering drugs. It looks like it's something for a simpleton. You know? Drive around and follow directions. But for that, you have to be someone dependable. Reliable. Smart."

Topher looked up at her with guarded eyes. "What do you know?"

She knew those eyes, for one. She'd seen them day in and day out for years, mostly in the mirror, but also in her brother. The eyes were someone who wore the burden of expectations. Tactic change. "I'm a legacy," she told him. "My folks did this, my kid does it. We all do it. This is who we are." Gail waved a hand around the room. "I didn't dream of being a ballerina or a pirate or anything."

The guarded eyes widened a little. "They didn't give you a choice," he whispered.

"We are what we are made to be, Topher." Leaning forward, Gail rested her elbows in the table. "Why?"

Her blue eyes met Topher's brown and he looked away, abashed and ashamed. "It's like you said," he muttered. "I am what I was made." He twisted his fingers together. "They're the big success, y'know? They're the ones who are better than what we were made. They figured it out. I'm just bringing up the rear."

"They?"

Topher narrowed his eyes. "Brothers and blood before drugs," he said softly.

Brothers. Three brothers. "Bobby Zanaro's dead, you know," she drawled. He wasn't. He was in WitSec. The world just thought he was dead. "Got ousted by his own gang twenty years ago."

Her perp shook his head. "He ain't that old."

What? Gail wanted to sit up straight and grab Topher's collar, physically shaking him down to explain that. She had to play it cool. She had to stay still. "Bobby ain't that old? Kid, he could be my old man."

Topher shook his head again. "Nah, nah, senior's dead. Blue ain't."

Blue? That was a name, clearly. But calling Bobby 'senior' meant one thing and one thing only. Bobby had a kid. That son of a bitch... Playing it as cool as she could, Gail asked, "Blue's back?"

"Yeah, totally on the QT." Topher tilted his head. "I want immunity."

Twenty years ago she couldn't offer that protection. She'd had to bluff and lie about it back then. Twenty years her silence in that moment of indecision, that pause where she tried to fabricate a lie, had bought her the biggest win of her career and catapulted her into success and was the stepping stone to what she was today. It had taught her a lasting lesson, one she held on to. Wait. Be patient. Don't promise anything. Just give them a place to talk, and listen.

She waited, thoughtfully. She leaned back in her seat and looked at Topher, considering things. He wasn't cracking. He needed something to push him over that edge. So as the tension built, as he started to twitch, she said one word.

"Why?"

He broke. He told her that Bobby's son, in his late twenties, was in charge. Bobby 'Blue' Zanaro Jr. He'd gone to the States with his mother back when the gang had ousted Bobby back when Gail had been in uniform. Bobby hid the kid well. Topher knew because his older brother had been in school with Blue in Michigan, and when Blue had come back, the gang welcomed him back and apologized about his father.

At least they all thought Bobby was dead.

But Bobby's kid seemed to find that living well, in his dad's old job, was the best revenge.

Topher told her that Bobby (aka Blue) was going by James Yorke, which she'd get the boys to run, but he sounded like the kind of smart kid who knew how to hide. No. Scratch that. She knew he knew how to hide. That kid had hid his takeover for the last five years. He'd taken the broken gang and re-formed it. He'd taken a shattered gang, that had split into a thousands parts, and brought it back together.

What Topher didn't know was how. Or why. He just knew what.

Technically they'd known that too, but now they had some insight into why even if Topher didn't. Revenge was a great motivator.

"Okay, Topher. If this pans out, if we can verify that Blue is legit and for real, we can deal."

Topher exhaled. "I promise, man- woman- ma'am. Legacy to legacy. I never wanted this."

Part of Gail wondered if that's what she could have been like. Scratch that. It was what she was like. She had taken down her own mother, after all. She never wanted this either. "Okay," she said carefully.

"My mom... My mom's Zanaro," Topher breathed. "Blue's my cousin."

That put a spin on it. His mother was a Zanaro. Maybe he knew. "Just one thing," she asked as she stood up. "The name. Three Rivers. Bobby's- Bobby Sr.'s old man had two brothers."

Her little witness looked confused. "Yeah?"

"Where's the name from. Three Rivers?"

Topher shook his head. "I thought it was the, y'know, rivers." He shrugged.

Gail nodded. "Right. Sit tight."

Letting herself out, Gail tasked one of her guys, her super-rookie Pedro, with getting all the details out of the now chatty Topher. Then she sent the background info to the computer nerds for a check on how the hell they'd missed Bobby Zanaro Jr. And then, only then, did she tell John that she was going to try and think through what she had.

Bobby Zanaro Sr. He'd been a lieutenant in Three Rivers. He was ousted by the young bucks, all of whom Gail had shut down and bounced to Major Crimes on her laurels. They'd known that some of the old guard for the gang had lingered, but mostly as a social club. If she believed Topher, and she had no reason not to just then, then within the last five years, Blue had come in and rebuilt the gang to the point he could take over Anton Hill's people. That was pretty fucking impressive, she had to admit.

But damn it all, that had to be bigger than just Blue. The way the gang was segmented right now meant he had to have some lieutenants. And the fact that Topher didn't know about that was interesting. Three brothers. Three pot shops. Three rivers.

Three leaders? Still?

The three major rivers of Toronto were the Don, the Humber, and the Rogue. Gail was aware her daughter had a theory that the name was tied into the Don and its tributaries. Steve's idea was that it was related to the three brothers. But Gail... Well she remembered her trips through Europe as a teenager.

One of the kinds of stories she'd heard over and over again was how such-and-such street was named for a river that dried up or was diverted. And there were thousands of towns and cities where there were three rivers joined. Of those cities, how many had lost the smaller rivers and now where only known for one or two? Some, like the one she'd seen in Los Angeles, was barely a river at all. Or what if it was stupid simple and they came from Trois-Rivieres over in Quebec?

Of course there was the other idea. What if the symbolism of the Three Rivers gangs pulling all the little guys back in wasn't so much symbolism but fact. Steve had told her time and again how a crew didn't name gangs on a whim, they did it because it had a feel. A vibe. A character. They held on to their names when the names had meanings.

But if she pushed that metaphor further, there was the idea that perhaps the river being underground had merit. Many of Toronto's rivers were like that now. They'd dried up and vanished, only to revert to underground streams.

Gail groaned and covered her face. She was getting too deep into the meaning for people who thought using ambulances for body dumps were the height of brilliance.

"That's not a good sound," remarked Holly, leaning in the doorway,

"I'm stuck," Gail sighed and rested her chin in her hands. "What brings you to my building?"

Waving a blue folder, Holly came in and closed the door. "The courier was sick, or something," she said and smiled that awkward little grin that Gail loved.

There was no way Gail wouldn't smile back at that one. With a grin she held out a hand and Holly gave her the files as well as a mostly chaste kiss. "I love it when he's sick."

"I have a meeting with your Lt. Brown. I thought we could do lunch after? You know you think better when you're fueled."

"Did you bring your lunchbox?"

Holly held up her little lunchbox. "Of course. My sexy wife filled it with leftovers from her latest attempt at Belgian food."

They'd had rabbit that weekend and, weirdly, had leftovers. "One bunny too many," mused Gail. She'd worried that Holly, the soft heart, would have issue with the dish, but it was Vivian who'd declined the fancy feast and made a sandwich instead.

"It was wild hare, and we have an infestation," Holly remarked.

Gail took the lunchbox and stashed it beside her own in her mini fridge. "Well that is entirely true. What lab work did you fake to bring over?"

"The idiot you were interrogating this morning? Had a laced doobie."

"Your age is showing, Doc. I don't think anyone besides our moms call it that anymore," teased Gail.

With a huff, Holly flipped open the results. "No one asked your opinion, Peck. The Fentanyl matches the second batch of your stuff."

That was good. Gail pulled up the earlier results. "Huh. Maybe they just switched brands. I'm going to have one of my guys run that down. What if a pharmco changed their formula by coincidence?"

"I thought you didn't believe in coincidence," muttered Holly.

"I don't. But I believe in lazy ass losers. Go chat with Brown, I'll do this, then we can eat outside?"

"Have I mentioned how sexy it is that you have an office?" Holly leaned across the desk and kissed Gail again, a little less chastely than before. "And I really like all that swag on your dress uniform."

Gail snorted. "Never call it that again." She stood up and walked around the desk to get a proper hug and kiss from her wife and escort her to the elevator. On her way back, she eyed the room of detectives. "Reyes. Go find your partner and meet me in my office. I have some work for you."

It was nice to have minions to send out to do the dirty work, sometimes.

"Beer, bratwurst, and behinds," muttered Vivian as she got into Gail's car.

"Oh, you had Oktoberfest?" Her mother laughed. "That always brings out the full moon."

"We arrested four guys who were mooning the great apes and slapping their butt cheeks!"

Gail held a straight face for a moment and then laughed. "Wow. What did the monkeys do?"

"They slapped their asses right back." Vivian grinned. "I got it on video. Dov said it was going to be on the news." She and Jenny had just stared for a moment, unable to believe what they were seeing. They let it go on longer than they should have, until the zookeeper said it was probably about to become a display of aggression and the apes would start throwing poop.

"Ooooooh," teased the blonde. "Did you get interviewed?"

Vivian flipped her mother off and leaned back. The zoo had been interesting. Jenny had pointed out all the spots she went to with her parents, and how she used to spend hours watching the meerkats. Most of the time, Vivian had gone to museums. "Hey, how long has Mom had depression?"

"A while. Why?"

"I was thinking about when I went to the zoo for school and she burst out crying." Vivian propped her feet up on the dashboard.

Gail smiled. "That's not related. She's always hated zoos, kiddo. But. Good call. Don't tell her where you were."

"Not exactly where I was going," mused Vivian.

Her mother glanced over. "Oh? Still thinking about the stuff we inherit?"

"Yeah, that."

There was a little pause. "You know, it didn't surprise me." Gail sighed a little. "I mean, she's an only child for a reason. Lily had real bad postpartum depression, and Brian... Well he's like me a little. So I was kinda waiting for it."

"That... That's really sad, Mom."

"Sad? I don't see it that way at all, Viv. See... I love your mom. Being ready for what might happen, knowing what to expect, means I can be ready to take care of her. Your mom's always there for me, every time I need her. Every time I ever called, she was there. It's the least I can do to be there for her when she needs me."

And like that, Gail had taken something simple and sad and turned it into a drop dead romantic comment that made you realize how much she cared. Maybe it wouldn't be so powerful if Gail acted like she liked people more often. Gail tolerated most people, distrusted them, and relied on very few. But that was why Gail's hugs, when you were sad or scared, were the best.

Vivian looked at her shoes for a while. "Okay. That's better."

"Glad my adoration of my wife meets your approval." They both chuckled. "We're picking up meat from the butcher. Greek chicken and lemon potatoes."

"Hummus? Oh, and that eggplant thing?"

"Melitzanosalata?" Gail nodded. "Yeah. And some pita. We can whip that up while-" Her phone rang and Gail held a finger up to Vivian. It was a work call. The rule was that Viv was allowed to listen in on these calls, but she had to be silent. "Siri. Answer phone." The phone beeped over the car speakers. "Peck, I'm driving."

"Hey, boss, it's Pedro."

"Pedro. What'd you find about Blue?"

"Little Boy Blue is legally Simon Montrose, which ain't the name our wit gave up. Mom's Eva, dad is unknown. Moved to Michigan when he was eight, which is when Bobby Z. went into WitSec."

The frown on Gail's face was telling. She didn't like this story. "How close to when?"

"A week after Bobby was picked up by... Uh... Shaw and Peck- oh." Pedro laughed awkwardly. "I'm going to skip over that."

Gail glanced at Vivian with a smirk. "Yeah, did he do college as Montrose?"

"No, he went as Anson Russ. Then he used the name Rick Murray when he moved back to Toronto-"

"Wait!" Gail slapped the steering wheel. "Pedro, the name Topher gave us, James Yorke. Did you run a full check on it?"

"Yeah but-"

"Middle name is Tiberius?"

There was a pause. "How the fuck... I mean, uh, yeah. Yeah it is." Pedro sounded mystified.

"That son of a ... Okay, look up Campbell Saunders, Campbell with a P, and Adam Torres. Get me their histories. Same age and patterns as the others. See if you can string a history of when he's swapping names and why."

"Sure thing. Tonight?"

"No. Start tomorrow, but I want this at the top of your priority list, Pedro."

"Right."

"Anything special you think I need to know right away?"

Pedro hesitated. "His mom's dead. Cancer. And Topher's mother is related to Zanaro. Turns out Bobby senior's uncles all had daughters. So he's, like, the youngest son of the youngest Zanaro who founded the gang."

"Any luck getting a bead on the girls?"

Another hesitation. "Kinda. I figured you'd want to know who was about Blue's age and still in town. But the oldest one, Bobby Sr.'s cousin, is in Barrie, teaching English, and her kids are hell to breakfast."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Pedro. Which ones are in Toronto?"

"So far I found one. Her mom is the daughter of Barry, the eldest brother of Bobby Sr... Jesus this is fucked up boss. Anyway, she's still in town, works for an accountant named Reynolds. Should I bring her in...?"

"No. Not yet. Just keep tabs on her. See if she has any gang ties. Get Steve to loan you someone to help."

"You got it, boss."

As the phone disconnected, Gail pulled into the butcher's parking lot with a shit eating grin. "You catch the names, kid?"

Vivian frowned. "James Tiberius Yorke? Adam Torres- wait a second. Are those all people who died on Degrassi?"

"Whatever it takes, apparently."

That was all the information Vivian got about the gang case. Sometimes she thought that all cases were solved quickly, like the time Gail and John solved their famous Khan killer case in a long weekend. But the reality was that most cases took weeks and months, if not years, because they had to find the information and then build up the proof slowly and carefully.

Being a cop was mostly paperwork and boring, separated by moments of sheer terror. That was what Oliver told her. He told her about how she'd miss things in life, like how he'd not seen Izzy's home runs in school. Vivian knew that. There had been times Gail had missed her school events, like the play, because she had to work. And the same was true for Holly, who missed the first soccer game Vivian started as a striker.

Sometimes a person sacrificed themselves to be a part of something bigger.

She was an idealist sometimes and a realist the rest of the time. Oliver came from a good, safe place. His parents were nice, caring, people. His kids were nice, wholesome kids. Except Izzy. She was the mild delinquent who had done drugs and made some shitty choices as a teen. But Jerry was sweet and honest and adorable.

The things about being a cop that ate at Oliver weren't the ones that would eat Vivian, and she knew it. He was eaten alive when people betrayed him. She expected it, and was still confused and surprised that her classmates had her back. That was something Dov told her would happen, but stronger than that was the story he'd told about the time none of them had Gail's back and she took a fall for them.

That was the reality Vivian expected. Cops were people and people were venal and selfish and scared. People made mistakes. And sometimes, less often than the news would have you believe, people died because of mistakes.

That's what ate at Vivian. The fear of her mistakes hurting people. The fear that if people knew the potential ticking time bomb within her, the possible insanity, that she'd lose what she wanted. And that was simple. She wanted no one to feel the way she had when she found her birth family dead.

Maybe she should have gone into social work, like Sophie.

"4727, Dispatch."

Her radio startled her. She was supposed to be patrolling by the former elephant dens. They were in some weird status after it was determined that penned elephants was cruelty. Holly would have said 'no shit!' to that. The staff mentioned they were expanding the area to allow the nearby animals to have more room. None of which was the point. "Dispatch, 4727."

"4749 needs assistance by the ice cream stand," explained Dispatch, sounding very close to laughter.

Vivian smiled. "Copy, I'm on my way." If Dispatch was laughing then it couldn't be all bad. Or even partly bad. Vivian pulled the map out of her pocket and double checked the route to the ice cream stand. When she got there, Vivian actually snorted a laugh.

Jenny was surrounded by children. They all wore the sweatshirt of a private elementary school Vivian remembered playing sports against at one point in time. And they were all clamoring. No, they were yelling at Jenny about how they were alone. And they were not listening to her at all. "One word, Peck, one word..."

It was hard not to grin. "Where's their teacher?"

"Thank you, Officer Obvious," snapped Jenny.

One of the kids eyed them. "Her name tag says Peck. Officer Friendly is a Peck too." The young boy eyed her. "Are you related?"

There was one Peck who did Officer Friendly work. "That's my cousin," confirmed Vivian. "Short guy, blonde hair, real pale?" The kid nodded. "His name's Freddie, with an ie."

The boy smiled. "How can you be cousins if you don't look alike?"

"We're distant cousins. My grandfather and his grandfather were cousins first." She glanced around. "Freddie's the shortest of all of us."

That made the boy laugh, and some of his friends stopped arguing about what they were supposed to do. "Are you all cops?"

"Almost," she nodded. "I have another cousin who's a firefighter."

A young girl chimed in. "Did you always want to be a cop?"

"Pretty much. What about you guys? Firefighters or cops?" A couple hands went up. "I'll tell you a secret. Firefighters suck at softball." The children laughed at her. "So hey, what's up with you guys being on your own?"

"Mrs. Herrick went to the bathroom like an hour ago!" The boy who'd befriended her first was chatty. "She said to wait here."

Ten kids. One teacher? "Where's her assistant?" They kids startled. "Come on, we're coppers. We're supposed to be smart," grinned Vivian. "There should be another teacher with her."

"Mr. Clemons was sick," explained a girl. "But we're the best behaving class, so Mrs. Herrick said we could go if we behaved."

"And if we don't, we don't get to go on any more excursions this year," said the boy.

"Well. Okay, Aronson, why don't you check the bathroom for the teacher, and I'll stay here."

Jenny looked astounded at Vivian. "How the... How come they listen to you?"

"Peck secret. Kids love us." Vivian, tapped her radio. "Dispatch, 4727. I got ten school kids and a possibly missing teacher." She rattled off the school information and teacher name.

"Copy that, 4727. We'll contact the school."

The kids heard that and groaned. "Sorry, kids. There are drunk idiots here. Can't let you run around without a grown up." She thumbed her radio. "Copy, Dispatch. Hold on backup, please."

The chatty boy sighed. "This sucks. We didn't get to see the snakes yet."

"Snakes, huh?" Vivian smiled. "Did you at least get ice cream?" They all shook their heads. "See, now that really sucks. I can't have any until my lunch."

Her radio crackled. "This is 4749." Jenny was on the radio and she sounded a little freaked. That wasn't good. Was the teacher in need of medical assistance? No, it was something worse. "10-33. I have a 10-100 here."

Vivian blinked. She knew that code. That was the code Oliver used in the story about how Gail sat on a car bomb. Oh. Oh fuck. "4749, this is 4727. Copy. Dispatch, 10-78." Her voice was calm. How the hell was her voice calm? "Please update the school."

"4749, Dispatch. Copy. Switch to channel 8. 4727, two units on their way."

As much as she wanted to switch channels, Vivian did not. "Copy." She looked at the kids. "I got bad news, guys." All the kids groaned again. "Yeah, I know. My partner's in there, taking care of your teacher. We're gonna have to get you guys home."

Immediately they started throwing questions at her.

"Is she sick?"

"What's a 10-100?"

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Is she dead?"

One kid even pulled out his phone. Shit. Anyone could google that stuff.

Vivian cleared her throat. "10-100 is a special code to tell us what kind of help we need. It's faster than saying things like how we need a specific team with tools to help someone stuck in a well." The kid with the phone looked up. "Here's what's going to happen. Some of my friends, they're going to come and escort you guys away, back to your bus. They're gonna wait with you till the driver and a teacher show up to take you back to school. What I need you guys to do is check your bags, make sure you have all your stuff, and get ready."

Most of the kids did so right away. They really were well behaved. The chatty boy frowned. "Can't you stay with us?"

"I would, but that other officer is my partner," Vivian explained. "We have to stick together. That way, if she needs my help, I'm right here."

"But you weren't together before, when she found us." He was smart.

"I was here in a minute," Vivian pointed out. "If I go with you guys, I'll be too far away."

That seemed to work. To Vivian's relief, the backup was Andy and Nick and their partners. Andy took the kids, Nick took charge of clearing the area. And Vivian... Well. She didn't lie to the kids. Jenny was her partner. She flipped to channel 8 and started for the bathroom.

"Hey, Peck," Nick called at her. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to help my partner, Collins. That's my job, right?"

He studied her face and nodded. "Don't touch anything."

"No shit," she snorted and went in. "Hey, Jenny?" Vivian rounded the corner and saw Jenny standing by a terrified woman at the sink. A kid's backpack was on the edge, and the woman had one hand in it. "Hi. You're Mrs. Herrick?" The woman nodded. "Your kids are fine. We've got officers taking them back to the bus."

Mrs. Herrick exhaled loudly. "Thank god. I can't believe none of them came in here..."

Vivian smiled. "Funny story. They said you told them to stay there, and they didn't want to lose field trips for the rest of the year." The teacher laughed a little shakily.

Jenny looked appreciative. "See? It's all okay. Now, can you let me look?"

The teacher hadn't let her look yet? That wasn't good. How did they know it was a bomb? Mrs. Herrick used her free hand to open the bag up. Both Vivian and Jenny leaned over. "I thought it was one of my kids' bags. So I picked it up and checked and..."

Jenny's eyes were wide. "Yeah... No. You did the right thing. Where's your phone?"

The teacher's hand was on the pipe. "I was afraid to use it. I've seen movies where that sets it off."

"No, it would have to be a special number that calls it," promised Vivian. She thumbed her radio. "This is 4727. It's a backpack pipe bomb," Vivian reported. "Looks like a remote detonator, or time. Not pressure sensitive. Subject has her hand on the pipe."

"Copy that, 4727. ETF is five out. Don't move it."

Muttering no shit, Vivian acknowledged the direction more calmly. "Don't worry. Our ETF guys are the best." Vivian pulled her phone out and took photos, texting them to Nick. They'd all had to study bombs some in the academy. Every one of them could recognize the common types of IEDs, or at least they could when they'd graduated. Remembering them months later was a different story for most of them. Still, Vivian was pretty sure the teacher could let go and be fine, which she texted to Nick as well.

His reply was to not fucking mess with the bomb. Nick was such a pain in the ass sometimes.

"You guys do this every day?" The teacher was shaking.

Jenny laughed softly. "First time," she admitted. "And it's Peck's second time to the zoo ever."

It wasn't true, but the joke made Mrs. Herrick laugh a little. The tension bled off her shoulders. "It's Ms. Herrick," she noted. "Melanie Herrick. Mel. The kids call everyone Mrs or Mr."

"So no Mr. Herrick to call?" Jenny kept her voice light.

"No Mrs. Herrick either," sighed Mel. "Sorry. I just ... I don't want to die in the closet."

Vivian arched her eyebrows. "Well. You're not gonna die, Mel. The head of ETF? Her name's Sue Tran, and she's the biggest badass you'll ever meet. Cool as a cucumber, and her guys are the best."

The teacher swallowed. "Yeah? You work with them?"

"I go running with them all the time. They're sick fit." Vivian smiled. "Okay? You can totally trust me."

"I don't know. You don't go to the zoo." There was a pause and they all chuckled.

The first rule was to keep the victim calm. If poking fun helped, then that's what they'd do. "It's my Mom's fault. She cries at zoos," explained Vivian. "Those animal commercials? You know the ones with Sarah McLachlan music? Waterworks."

Mel sniffled. "Oh I can't watch that commercial. It's just, oh god."

"We have to change the channel or turn off the sound," sighed Vivian, dramatically.

"I can't watch it either," admitted Jenny.

They kept talking, trying to keep everyone calm, until the door opened. "Hello? It's Lt. Tran."

Thank god. "Hey, Loo." Vivian smiled. "See? Lt. Tran's a total badass."

Sue saw Vivian and nodded. "Peck... Good. You took the photos?"

"Yes, ma'am," nodded Vivian. She'd had a totally horrid crush on Sue as a young girl. Gail had found it amusing, but that was Gail for you. Now, Vivian just had a healthy respect for Sue and her work. "Looks like a standard issue backpack bomb. Remote detonator is my guess."

Nodding, Sue walked up to Mel. "Hella bad luck, huh? Okay, Peck, Aronson, you get out of here."

Mel stiffened. "What? Do they have to?"

The lieutenant looked between Mel and the rookies. "They're not trained in this." Sue gently rested a hand on Mel's shoulder. "But you're gonna go with them. Okay?" Flashing a hand sign, Sue indicated that she wanted someone to catch.

Vivian mostly understood the ETF hand signs. They needed someone to escort Mel out, which meant it was safe to let go. "Jenny, hold the door open, okay?" Vivian kept her voice low.

Her partner nodded. "We're clear, Lieutenant."

Her voice calm and steady, Sue explained. "Okay, Mrs. Herrick-"

"Mel," grimaced Mel. "Please."

"Okay, Mel. I'm Sue. You're gonna let me get a hold of the bag and then you're going to let go. Okay?" Mel nodded and Vivian carefully stepped closer. "Peck's going to take you outside as soon as that's over, and you're gonna be fine." Again, Mel nodded.

Vivian watched as Sue took a hold of the bag and nodded at her. Not Mel. Vivian. "Mel, let go slowly," coached Vivian, quietly. "Okay? Just relax your hands. There you go. And take a step back."

As Mel moved back, Vivian took hold of her upper arms. "Oh my god." Mel went wobbly and her knees started to give out.

Which was exactly why Sue wanted her to be there. "I got you," soothed Vivian, catching hold and supporting Mel. "Just lean on me. See we're walking backwards." She all but carried Mel out, past Jenny.

The other ETF agents were waiting. "All clear," said Jenny, her voice shaking.

"Get behind the zone," ordered Duane. It didn't matter than Vivian had beat him on their silly course the week before. This was a case and it was his domain. "Okay, Sabrina, all clear. Robby is a go."

As much as Vivian wanted to stay and see what they were going to do with Robby the robot, she and Jenny took Mel beyond the blast zone and to safety. They got her to the EMTs, who wrapped her in a blanket and took her vitals.

"Feel brave now, Peck?" McNally. And she wasn't happy.

"Feel like I was there for my partner, ma'am," she muttered. Glancing over, she saw Nick talking to Jenny. "Isn't that my job?"

McNally grimaced. "Running head long into danger?"

"It wasn't... Ma'am, it wasn't running into danger."

"Really? What was it? Because it looked like you went and hung out with a bomb."

Okay. It did look like that. "First rule is to keep the person calm." When McNally eyed her, confused, Vivian went on. "When you have someone on a possible explosive device, you keep 'em calm to prevent accidental discharge. I thought- I knew I could help Jenny stay calm, and that'd help Ms. Herrick."

The older officer sighed and pinched her nose. "You're going to be the death of me."

Vivian smiled sadly. "I'm not trying to, McNally."

"I know. You're trying to be a good copper." She shook her head. "Nick said you gave him details on the bomb. How'd you know that stuff?"

"School. I had to memorize all that crazy mechanical stuff. It's the same thing." Vivian shrugged.

Before McNally could reply, there was a muffled explosion. Everyone looked at the bathroom, where Sue and Sabrina were walking out of, laughing. "Damn crazy ..."

"All clear," said Sue, waving over. "McNally, bring Peck over here."

Shaking her head, McNally slapped a hand on Vivian's shoulder and steered her over. "I'll tell Dov and Gail you did the right thing, but Holly's going to read you the riot act."

Vivian winced. "I never thought I'd miss the days when Gail went mental over a soccer game." Once, and only once, had Gail lost it over a game. The defender had been half again the height of pre-teen Vivian (not that it had taken much at that age) and sent her flying with a head-on collision. Four stitches and a decade later, Gail was still coming up with ways to inflict revenge on the other girl.

"Shoulda thought of that before you put on the uniform." McNally was not comforting. "Hey, Sue."

"Hey, Andy. Hey, rookie."

Vivian smiled, feeling more shy than normal. Okay, fine, she still had a mix of an awkward childish crush and a healthy dose of hero worship for Sue. "Hi, Lieutenant." Behind the ETF boss were Viv's friends, Duane and Sabrina. They were smiling.

Holding up her phone, Sue showed a better picture of the bomb. "What do you see, Peck?"

There was an obvious answer. It was a bomb. She narrowed her eyes at the picture. They played all sorts of weird games at home, like memorizing license plates and spotting things that didn't match. Gail usually won, Steve and Elaine vied for second place, and Vivian pulled up tail end Charlie, except in one case. Photos that were side by side, and you had to spot the difference, she sucked at. Diagrams and maps and designs, she kicked everyone's ass.

It was probably because of those engineering classes.

Her brain pulled up the examples of the pipe bombs they'd been shown in class. The wiring was pretty standard. Movies aside, a bomber didn't fuck around with wiring. No sane person experimented or screwed with the plan. They did it the same way, every time, and they made sure it was the same.

"The phone's a fake," she blinked and looked up at Sue. "I couldn't see from the front, but right there..." She tapped the phone. "That's not a real wire."

Andy leaned over her shoulder, making a surprised noise. "How can you tell?"

"The lead's wrong. If you actually had that wire cross over, the risk of a spark triples and ... Um ... Well you could blow up early."

Sue was grinning ear to ear. "Your teacher wasn't in much danger. The fuse literally needed to be lit. We blew it up in the blast box. Give the lab some fun to find prints and shit."

Both Vivian and Andy made faces. Vivian guessed, "Maybe the bomber was going back?"

"Maybe the teacher is the bomber," offered Andy. They both glanced over at the scared woman. "Right. Go talk to her. She likes you."

As McNally clapped her shoulder, Vivian scowled. "You don't really think..."

"Hey, little rookie? Go do what I said. Talk to her. Ask her about how she found it."

Vivian nodded and turned to go. As she crossed the tape, Sue called out. "Hey, Little Peck? Good job."

At least she had that going for her.

Most of the time Holly felt that she was reasonable about her wife's job. Back in the beginning, when they'd been dating and she's heard Gail was shot at, she'd crumbled and broken. When Gail had nearly been blown up, she'd fractured. And of course, when Gail went undercover, she'd fallen apart and needed her wife to keep her together.

But being reasonable about their daughter in similar situations was a lot harder. Holly had thought that since she could handle Gail in peril, as long as she found out about it after the fact, the same would be true of Vivian. It so, so, wasn't.

"You went in with the bomb!?"

"Mom, it wasn't like that," Vivian repeated. "It was ... I couldn't leave Jenny in there alone. The probability of an incident goes up if you can't keep the victim calm."

"Oh and why couldn't Jenny?"

"She was my partner, Mom! It's my job to go out there!"

There was something in Vivian's tone that reminded her of Gail. Holly heard the same semi-incredulity in her daughter's voice. "I can't... Viv, I can't be reasonable about this right now," managed Holly, fighting down the anger and fear.

"No shit." Her daughter was pissed. "You know, if it was Mom, you'd be mad, but you wouldn't lose your shit."

Untrue. Totally, undeniably, untrue. The words 'go to your room' hovered on Holly's lips and yet she managed to press them together, tightly, and not say it. Vivian was 23. She was an adult. She may still be living at home with her parents, but she was not a child. As much as it hurt Holly, Vivian was a mature, responsible, fucking irritating, grown up. "I," Holly said slowly. "I am going to the office." Somehow she managed not to snap. "Do you need anything?"

Vivian looked startled. "Mom..." Maybe she could tell she'd pushed a little too far.

"No. Viv. No, I love you, but I'm walking away before I say something I don't mean." She waved a finger towards Vivian and turned, taking herself upstairs.

There was nothing said from below. Vivian was, apparently, silent and still. She loved her daughter. And it wasn't that Holly didn't know she was being a little unreasonable. These feelings she had, the tightness in her chest when Vivian had casually mentioned that she'd been on site for the bomb scare at the zoo, the rush of delayed terror as she realized her child had held a woman's hand and guided her away, that Vivian had been right there, they weren't new.

She'd felt all this before, over and over, with Gail. Gail who had been shot at, stopped a radio with her face, sat on a bomb, talked down a knife wielding kidnapper who didn't speak English, and a hundred other things... It had been twenty years. She knew Gail's job was important to her. She knew this was the life her wife would probably always have.

And now, here, Holly felt like she understood why Elaine had been so against Vivian joining the family business. The Peck family business. It wasn't just the fact that she would have to bear the weight of the name Peck, it was that Holly had to deal with her daughter in danger.

Holly sat on the couch in the office and covered her face. She'd been the one who defended Vivian's choice. When the Pecks, en masse, had protested and said Vivian could be anything she wanted, Holly had pointed out that being a cop was what she wanted.

The door creaked open. Holly looked up as a blonde head popped in. "Hey. Can I come in or are you still processing?"

"I may say stupid things," sighed Holly.

"Well, that is one of the best bennies about being married, sweetheart. I know what you mean, even when you're talking stupid." Gail came in and closed the door. "She's sorry, by the way."

"What for?"

"The bit about how if it was me, you wouldn't be so upset."

Holly watched Gail put away her backup gun and badge. The service piece was probably in the small safe in the bedroom. "She's almost right," she noted. "I'm sort of used to you in harms way."

Her wife glanced over her shoulder. "No you're not. You tolerate it. It scares the shit out of you." With a little more feeling than normal, Gail closed the gun safe and sat beside Holly. "Sue called me about it."

They settled into each other comfortably, Holly resting her head on Gail's shoulder, Gail's arm around her shoulders. "Yeah? What did Sue say?"

"Our kid is smart and calm under pressure. She also has memorized bombs better than most rooks." Gail seemingly absently brushed Holly's hair away from her ear. But the way her fingers lingered, it was clear Gail was trying to be soothing. "ETF really likes her."

There was an undertone to Gail's words. Holly hadn't worked with cops and lived with a Peck this long to not know what she meant. "Oh crap." Vivian in ETF?

"Better than sex crimes I guess," sighed Gail, her cheek resting on Holly's temple. "Why couldn't she do Mounted Patrol? She likes horses."

Holly pressed her face into the hollow of Gail's shoulder. "It's not a done deal. She wants to be like Oliver."

Her wife snorted. "That was six years ago, sweetheart." Gail's voice was soft and a little tired. "I don't like it either," she whispered.

"It's her job to go back out there and put herself in danger."

There was a brief pause and Gail laughed softly. "Yeah. Yeah it is." She kissed Holly's forehead. "Wanna eat up here and avoid the kid?"

In a way she did. In another she didn't. Holly nestled against Gail, drinking in her comfort and steadiness. "What are you making for dinner."

"Seeing as I was up early, I was planning on poisson meunière."

Holly knew that one. Fish with lemon and brown butter. "Sides?"

"Boiled new potatoes, light salad."

While Holly loved the fish, Vivian loved potatoes. "Peacemaker." Holly sat up and kissed Gail softly. It was too inviting and she took a light hold of Gail's cheeks, keeping her in place to kiss again. She felt Gail's smile against her own lips and couldn't help but smile back.

"I try," admitted Gail, kissing her one more time.

Holly went downstairs first, knowing Gail was probably going to change out of her work clothes first. Seated in the comfy chair was Vivian, watching the news. "Anything new out there?"

"Gas prices are going up. Pipeline from up north is on strike."

"Cheerful." Holly leaned on the back of the chair. "Hey, I'm sorry."

Vivian craned her neck. "You're sorry? Mom..."

"You're allowed to be sorry too, it's not mutually exclusive."

Her brown haired child smiled a little abashedly. "I'm sorry I scared you. I don't know... I don't know how not to. How does Mom?"

With a sigh, Holly ruffled Vivian's hair. "She doesn't."

"Seriously? When ... You don't- I've never seen you freak out about Mom."

She was probably thinking about times like when Gail had gone undercover. "Honey, you're my kid." Holly let her hand still on Vivian's head and then rested her cheek on the back of her hand. "We're supposed to take care of you. Protect you."

Vivian sighed. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom. I'm ... I want to carry the load with you guys."

They'd raised a thoughtful, caring child. "When you were younger, we tried to not let you see us panic." Holly's confession hung in the air. "You know how scared Gail was when I was sick. I was just as terrified when she went missing undercover."

"Yeah?" Vivian didn't move.

"Yeah. It's really hard to let you go sometimes," she told Vivian quietly.

There was a click of a camera and they both looked over to see Gail holding her phone. "Sorry, you guys look cute." Vivian flipped off her mother, to Holly's amusement. "Watch the news, my nerds. I've got dinner."

"I'm getting drinks," announced Holly. "Can we have beer?"

Gail looked appalled. "With this fish?"

"What? It's the bread dredged fish, so ... Fish and chips?"

Her wife was horrified. "Get the hell out of my kitchen! You ... You're a caveman, Holly! This is a delicate fish! It's flaky, it's tender, and it goes with a fucking white wine!" Gail threw her hands up and stomped into the kitchen. "A dry, floral, wine. Next thing, Viv'll ask for a damn Pepsi!"

Vivian giggled. "Orange juice?" Gail hissed at them both and ignored them, making a rattle in the kitchen. "We made Mom mad," she whispered.

"Mom's pretty stuck up about food," Holly whispered back. "She's kind of a princess."

The girl laughed. "Sometimes they call her the Ice Queen at work," she noted. Then she startled and reached into her pocket, pulling out her buzzing phone. "It's Mel."

Holly's eyebrows went up. "Who's Mel?"

"Mel Herrick. She's the teacher who had the bomb..." Vivian hesitated and then tapped her phone. "Peck," she said carefully, clearly trying to be firm like Gail was when she said that, but missing the mark. "Yes, no, no, hi, Mel. I gave you my card, it's fine."

Smiling at her daughter, Holly was surprised when Vivian glanced at her. Then Vivian turned away, a curious color creeping up her neck. Oh Ho Ho. Holly got up and went into the kitchen. "Hey, honey, what's the department policy on dating people you meet at work? Like suspects and victims?"

Gail blinked. "Well. Oliver met Celery because she was robbed. Dov dated a drug dealers ex, though, and nearly blew up one of Boyd's big cases." She frowned. "Why?"

"I think Vivian is being asked out by the woman she helped today."

They both turned to look at their daughter. With her short hair, nearly Gail's level of shortness, the back of Vivian's neck was visible. It was slightly red. "Oh," smirked Gail. "Get out the Sauvignon Blanc, please."

Already? "That was fast," mused Holly, but Gail already had the potatoes drained.

"I started the boil before I came upstairs."

"You're very smart." Holly kissed her and went to the fridge for the bottle they'd started already. As she poured three glasses, Vivian came over looking confused and collected the plates. "Our mini-human looks confounded," she told Gail.

The blonde smirked. "She does. Monkey, why are you so confused?"

"Uh. Well she- the teacher from the, uh, the thing-"

"The bomb scare," suggested Holly.

"Right. Her. She asked me out."

Gail looked amused. "Was she cleared?"

"Yeah." Vivian looked between her mothers. "You're both smiling at me. That's creepy. Stop."

Flipping the fish, Gail gestured to Vivian. "Plates, please. When did she want to go out? Tonight?"

Vivian shook her head. "Tomorrow." She eyed Gail a little more. "It's okay?"

"Given that I met your mom at a crime scene, I'm not one to talk." Gail sniffed the brown butter and smiled. "As long as she's not a suspect, it's fine, though you should wait for the case to be closed."

With a sigh, Vivian leaned on the counter. "It's a bomb case. Unless the lab finds a print or a match to the innards, we got nothing." There was a pause and both her cops turned to look at Holly.

"Not my specialty," she pointed out. "But I promise it's being worked on."

Vivian folded her arms on the counter and rested her head on them. "What's the use of being the daughter of the country's greatest forensic pathologist if she can't rush labs for you."

Laughing brightly, Gail plated the fish. "Can't rush polymer chain reactions, kiddo. Three wine glasses please, unless you're running off for a date."

Their daughter blushed as she fetched the glasses. Gail handed Holly a plate and carried the other two over. "Look at her, all grown up," teased Holly. The young woman was still a little shy and awkward. Watching her navigate the dating world felt like Holly was watching herself at the same ages. Nothing but bad luck and tripping over her own feet.

The plates clinked on the table and Gail sighed. Holly knew that sigh. Once in a great while Gail would muse how different Viv would be if she'd been their biological daughter. Would the mirroring of themselves be more or less obvious. How much of them would be in her. "You know, she has 1504 this week."

Holly snorted. "You know very well there no such thing as curses, Gail Peck."

"Really? I was in 1504 when we broke up," she teased, and Holly slapped her butt. "And Sam got it shot up. And Andy lost a tire."

"No such thing as a curse, Peck!" But Holly was laughing.

She was still a little upset at her daughter being in danger, and she was likely always going not be scared about it. But she trusted two things above all. Holly trusted Gail to have taught Vivian well, to make sure their child knew the reality about her job. And Holly trusted Vivian to be smart, because their girl was, above all else, a smart cookie.

If only Vivian was as smart about her heart.

The restaurant was nice, though not super fancy. That was good, since Vivian was in her motorcycle jacket. Holly had insisted she wear it, with elbow-pads and everything, any time she went riding. The problem with the restaurant being nice and not fancy was that there was no coat check, so she had to bring the helmet with her to the table.

"Hi, sorry I'm late. I had to finish a report," Vivian smiled, trying to affect the same casualness she saw in Gail when sauntering around.

"About motorcycles?" Mel gestured at the helmet.

Vivian laughed, awkwardly. "No, no, I, um... It's mine." The teacher's eyebrows rose. "Yes, I know. Stereotypes. The lesbian has a motorcycle."

Smiling brightly, Mel gestured at the chair. "Well I guess that answers if you thought this was a friend date or not."

"I have no idea," admitted Vivian. "But my mom pointed out I'm pretty dense about this."

"Your mom know you're on a date?"

"I live with my parents," she explained. If there was going to be fallout from that, let it be early on.

But all Mel asked was, "They're okay with you being a cop?"

"It's a family job. Pecks have been cops in Toronto for as long as Toronto's had cops." She shrugged and smiled up at the waiter. "I haven't even looked, sorry. May I have an iced tea?"

Mel blushed. "I should have looked too... My friend said this was a great tapas place. Do you like tapas? I really love it. I want to go to Spain one day and have real tapas."

Oh yeah. This was a date. "Drink?"

The blush on Mel's face got worse. "Uh. Coke. Coke Zero." Reminding Mel to have a drink bought her some time to figure out what to talk about. The idea was one supposed to talk with dates about things, not just let them talk. That was something Liv had complained about.

The waiter smiled at both of them. "I'll just give you a minute." He winked and vanished as quickly as he'd arrived.

Vivian glanced at the menu to buy herself more time and saw chorizo, among other things. That little bit of Gail in her heart cropped up. "Did I mention I was a vegetarian?" Vivian smiled just a little, laying a hint that she was kidding.

There was a moment of panic from Mel and then she broke out laughing. "Oh my god, you had me going for a second."

"I really like chorizo," grinned Vivian. "But I adore potatoes. And there are tons of vegetarian options here."

They chatted about food a little (success!) and made their orders. The waiter put down bread and olive oil along with their drinks. "Can I tell you a secret? I hate ordering first."

Vivian blinked. "What? Like food?" When Mel nodded, Vivian asked the obvious. "Why's that?"

"I'm always afraid I'll pick the wrong thing. Like if you ordered beer, then I would. But you did a tea and so I can't pick beer because it'll be weird."

"That was incredibly ... You overthink a lot. Do people tell you that?"

Mel sighed. "Constantly."

It was kind of cute. "I have to be at work, in uniform, pretty early. They want us on site for the opening of Oktoberfest all week. So, while I would love a beer or some vino, I'm waiting till end of shift this week."

"How does that work? I mean, you can't work Monday through Friday, can you?"

"No, we have a rotating shift. It's ... What subject do you teach? It's kinda like a word problem."

Mel grinned. "Social Studies. But I think I can follow."

"Hah. Okay, so if you're a detective, you can work just weekdays and be on call for weekends." The whole time Vivian had lived with Gail, she'd been a detective, so she'd had 'normal' hours. "Rookie uniforms, like me, work 8-12 hour shifts. We have five days on, three off. Then it's four on, two off. Three on, four off. It cycles around five weeks so sometimes we have weekends and sometimes we don't." It got messier with holidays and adjustments for night work. Vivian was sure a supercomputer was used to keep it all straight.

Looking a little enlightened, Mel asked, "When are your off days?"

That was bold. "Sunday and Monday. But if I have court, then they're not really off days."

"Will you? Have court I mean."

"Depends on if we catch... Um. Well you know. The backpack thing." That was not something to really talk about at dinner.

Mel's eyes widened. "Do you have a ..." She stopped and looked around before leaning forward. "A suspect?"

It was endearingly naive. "I can't talk about that," she pointed out, smiling. Smile. Keep smiling. People wanted a girl to smile on a date. "Social Studies, huh? How'd you get stuck at the zoo with a horde of kids alone?"

Rolling her eyes, Mel explained about how stupid Aaron was supposed to go with her and he got sick. She was sure he was just hung over, but then her backup also begged off. The name Aaron rang a bell. While one of Gail's detectives was working on the case (seriously, the name 'major' crimes had to be a joke), Vivian had glanced at the suspect list. Aaron Murphy was the name of a suspect. It was reflex, but Vivian asked what Aaron's last name was.

Murphy.

Pushing the thought away (because Gail's guys would totally have looked into it), Vivian tried to ask about other things. Like about kids. Did Mel like working with kids? But then she remembered the backpack. The backpack had been a match for one of the kids' packs. Who had the kid been? Vivian found herself asking questions that were all a little leading back to the case.

And Mel sure noticed. Because in turn she asked how long Vivian had been a cop, and if she liked it. And, at the end of the dinner, Mel gave her a kiss off. First, literally, she kissed Vivian lightly. Then she sighed.

"I've never gone out with a cop. Are they all so ... Are they all cop all the time?"

Vivian winced. "I'm afraid that's just me."

Mel nodded sagely. "You don't talk a lot about yourself," she pointed out. "And you ask questions like... A cop. You're nice, but I think you should figure out who you are besides a cop."

Yeah, that was not the end of a good date. Vivian knew better than to argue it. She couldn't. The cop brain, the one she'd spent years crafting for herself, just didn't turn off.

Shoving a hand into her pocket, Vivian nodded. "I had a nice time," she offered, feeling as if the words were rote.

It showed as Mel shook her head. "Thank you. For saving my life."

She watched Mel get into her car and drive off, resisting the urge to bash her forehead into her helmet. The number of dates that had ended with 'you don't talk a lot about yourself' was rather high. Talk about school, talk about work, talk about sports, talk about anything but herself.

Talking about herself opened her up for the inevitable questions about her parents. That lead to being asked about being adopted. On the heels of that came the ones about her birth family. So far, Lara was the only person who hadn't pressed Vivian about it right after figuring out she was adopted. And Lara was straight. And Vivian was pretty sure she didn't want to date a cop. Ever.

She rode home, thinking about how the date had gone so crappily and how to prevent that from happening again. The obvious answer was to talk about herself. What she was thinking and feeling. Those things never came naturally to her. What she needed was someone who was okay with pulling teeth to get her to talk. Or someone who was okay with getting stories in dribs and drabs.

At least it was something to talk about with her therapist, besides the stupid flashbacks she'd been having. That reminded her to file a mental note not to tell her Moms about those. Holly would fuss and worry, and Gail ... Actually Vivian wasn't sure what Gail would do. She was harder to guess about than Holly was, especially with regards to things.

The flashbacks weren't as traumatic as Gail's seemed to be, for one. They were more like memories. She was finally remembering things about the day her parents and sister died. She remembered a social worker who wanted to hold her hand. She remembered sitting in an ambulance, hugging her bag. She remembered being asked if she'd been hurt.

Now she understood what the meaning was behind that question. Had she been abused, mentally, physically, or sexually. Vivian still didn't remember being hit or touched. Quite the opposite. She didn't remember the things she had now. Thinking back on eighteen years with Gail and Holly, Vivian remembered hugs and being tucked in. She remembered Gail supporting her while she threw up, Holly hugging her while she cried, and both being affectionate and making sure she knew she was loved.

That was the galling part of her memory.

She didn't have a single memory of her birth family doing any of that.

It used to be that Vivian thought she just didn't remember because she'd been six. Now she knew better and it hurt in a different way. Now it hurt to know what she could have had and could have felt. It wasn't what she'd had and lost, it was what she'd found and what it meant for what she'd never had before. What did Gail say at their 10th anniversary? It was realizing what had been missing all the time with everyone else, and finding everything she'd never known she'd needed.

Vivian paused her bike at the garage door.

In that house were two women who wanted her to be happy. They loved her and wanted the best for her. As soon as she went inside, they'd know how her date went. And they'd still love her and support her. She sighed and pressed her fob to open the garage door.

When she opened the living room door, her mothers were mid argument. "It's not that old!" Holly was very insistent.

"It is too! We got it the year you broke your wrist." Gail's response was equally firm and serious. "So it's six years old, and that's not 'too soon' at all."

"There's no way it's... Oh."

Gail mimicked Holly's tone. "Oh."

"Oh shut up," laughed Holly. "Fine. It's not too soon, it was old, and that was a shitty time to break."

"I made do," Gail drawled. "You didn't complain."

"No," admitted Holly, a little giggly. Her voice was lighter than normal.

And just like that, Vivian knew what her parents had been up to and what broke. "Oh my god, you guys are talking about breaking your vibrator," groaned Vivian, loudly.

Her mothers fell silent and then Gail cleared her throat. "You're home early. No desert?"

Vivian put her helmet on the shelf and hung up her coat. "No, and no second date either." She glanced over and saw Holly clutching the neckline of her robe and blushing.

"I'm... I'm going to change," said Holly, a little stiffly, and she went upstairs. Holly could be a little prudish when it came to nudity around her daughter.

Gail's smirk was unmistakable, and she could care less. "Sorry," she stifled the grin and put her iPad down. "Ice cream or alcohol or sulking in your room?" There was a way Gail could say things that made it seem like either option was not just viable, but acceptable.

Sitting at the kitchen island, Vivian draped her arms over it and put her head down on the cool stone. "I think you should order two of whatever you're ordering," she mumbled. The soft 'oh dear' from Gail did not go amiss. A moment later there was the sound of the fridge and the clatter of bowls.

"Ice cream," Gail said decisively.

Sulking, Vivian didn't pick her head up. Not even when Holly came back down and gently patted the back of her head. "That bad?" Holly's voice was back to normal.

"She doesn't want to talk about it."

It was Holly who pushed this time. "Spill, Little Peck," she told her daughter. "Or no ice cream."

Vivian lifted her head just enough to eye her mother. "Why were you downstairs naked anyway?" As expected, Holly flushed. Gail, on the other hand, coughed disapprovingly. Don't change the subject. Right. "So you know how people always say I never talk? I … tried."

Both of Gail's eyebrows went up. "Tried?"

"I talked about work. Which, in my defense, she asked about first." Vivian sighed and propped her elbows on the counter, resting her chin on her fists. "And that kinda turned into me poking about the case in a weird way and … she said I need to figure out who I am."

While Holly looked thoughtful, Gail winced and pushed the bowl over. Cookie dough. Classic. "Gail?" Holly tilted her head at the blonde, using that weird mom telepathy they'd developed.

"She means Viv talked about everything but herself, and it made her think she's hiding something, and when the hell did I become the smart one about relationships, Holly?"

"You figured out how we fucked everything up and how to put it back together faster than I did," Holly noted, snatching Gail's spoon and taking a bite of ice cream. "Viv, honey…" And Holly stalled, as if not sure where to go.

Vivian scowled. "Its not that I don't want to talk about it, Mom. I mean, god I do not want to talk about it. But I can't."

The confusion on Holly's face didn't go away, but Gail made a noise of understanding. "It's hard to get the words out when you don't know..." Gail paused and looked at Holly softly. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to talk to you about Perik, Holly?"

"Oh," said Holly softly.

"It makes you feel ... raw. Like your heart is open and covered in gasoline, and you're not sure if the other person has a match or not."

That was exactly it. Vivian looked at Gail, feeling a little wide eyed. "How does she do that?" How did Gail just drop bombs like that which explained everything?

Holly leaned against Gail. "I don't know. It's a latent Peck thing," she mused. "She couldn't do it when I met her."

That gave Gail a sad look. "I didn't want to lose you again."

"Awesome," grumbled Vivian and she took a bite of her ice cream. "I'll just wait till I find a plus one and have a mental breakthrough."

"Hey." Gail was frowning. "You're not me. I'm not my parents. You will figure out how to deal with it however it works for you, okay?"

There was the problem. Vivian whispered, "What if it doesn't work?" What if this, this person who couldn't talk about her feelings, was who she was? What if she never had a plus one?

"Then it doesn't," said Gail. "But it will."

"How do you know?"

Gail smiled. "Look, you wanted to be a cop, right? How'd you know that?"

"Because..." She looks between Holly and Gail. "I don't want people to think there's no one to help them, no one who will help them. I wanted to be like Oliver, but I think ... I think Christian's that. Now? I guess because I know I can do things and I want to do them to help people. Do what they can't."

Her mother's were smiling a little. An approval smile. "And why don't you want to talk about your past?"

Vivian opened her mouth. Then she closed it. "I don't know." She didn't. "I mean… Mom, when I say I can't talk about it, I mean it literally. I can't. I tried! I tried to tell Liv a couple times and the words just … they stop. I start having a stupid panic attack." She stabbed at the ice cream, watching it start to melt. "I don't want to freak out in front of people."

After a moment, Gail suggested, "You should try to talk about your hobbies. Like that American Ninja Idiots thing you like? Talk about that."

Skeptical, Vivian poked her ice cream and started to eat it. Holly fed Gail a spoonful and noted, "That's actually not a bad idea. Tell them you're into sports. Talk about books and movies. But god, do not bring up work. That never ends well."

"It did for you two," grumbled Vivian.

"We," sighed Gail, "We are not normal."

Weirdly, knowing that made it a little easier.

Bomb cases were rarely on Gail's docket, not even if they happened at a zoo. While it was terrible, it wasn't majorly major enough. And that was fine by her. Bombs were messy, they were ugly, and they reminded her of her car. She still had the destroyed license plate. The shrapnel was pretty cool.

Still. This case ended up in her world for one simple reason. "What do you mean that he's back?"

On her couch was Sue Tran. John was leaning against the door, looking surly. "I mean based on the information the lab techs gave me, it's the same signature and the same design. And? Just like last time, it was fake. Nothing hooked up."

"I really didn't need this," grumbled Gail.

Sue looked bitter. "We don't even have a goddamned name, Gail. Just that stupid nickname."

They never had. Five years ago, Sgt. Tran had led her squad to a reported bomb left in a backpack by Centennial College. They'd found a fake bomb, not a dud, but just not wired up. Then they found another and another, until there was finally a live one back at the College. Except Sue's team was so wired and stressed out that they'd fumbled.

One of her best men paid that price.

Their lieutenant paid that price.

That was Sue's pain to bear.

"I'm sorry," sighed Gail.

Throwing her arms over the back of the couch, Sue asked, "How's the drug case going?"

Gail tossed her pen onto the table. "Oh. Shitty. Noelle thinks it's about to be a full on gang war if we don't watch out. And I still have no idea how it all comes together. But I got Three Rivers trying to take over Anton Hill's people, and no one knows who's in charge of Rivers."

Thankfully Sue winced. "Well that sounds fucking awesome."

"It's as much fun as you think."

John finally spoke up. "How about I keep an eye on it? The bombs. I'm better than anyone else we've got for it."

"Might be dead ends," noted Sue.

"I'm good at those too," he smiled. "Fact finding, data diving. It's this thing Gail's not really familiar with. Patience."

Gail flipped him off. "Plus side, he doesn't need my permission to requisition more staff."

Smiling, Sue gave a thumbs up. "Who's running your gang war?"

"Steve. No one knows gangs better." Gail pushed her chair back and propped her feet up on the table. "I just want that damn bird."

"Bird?" Sue looked at John. "She lose her mind?"

"Nah, we've got this idea that the Three Rivers guys track back to this poem from a comic book."

Gail winced as Sue gave her a droll look. "Don't say it."

"That's really dumb, Peck. What the hell?"

"Ass," she muttered to John. But then she laid out her theory. The names of the shops coincided with the poem, which was about three brothers who had to be united to find treasure. "And I totally get that it could all be a big fat coincidence, but damned if things don't line up."

Sue read the poem thoughtfully. "Except for the brothers things. You've got one leader, right? Bobby Zanaro Jr?"

"Yeah and nothing on him. Chloe's guys have been trailing him for ages. He's good."

Frowning, the ETF lieutenant tapped the paper in her hands. "Funny thing... Eagles. Where did you say these guys were based out of?"

"Thank you for pointing out the other thing I don't know," griped Gail. "They're working out by the Don River. Upper."

Sue looked thoughtful. "You know there's a little league team up there? I used to play against 'em."

It was John who joked, "Not ponytail league?"

Shaking her head, Sue went on. "We used to play this team there called the Eagles. Sponsored by ... Something named Crosse. With an E."

Gail felt her face go flat. "Sue, you're not just trying to make me feel better because I'm sitting on a bomb, right?"

The woman shook her head. "No. I'm dead serious. This ... This really stupid theory you have kinda holds water."

Sitting up, Gail tapped her computer into life and added the information from Sue. "See? That's what keeps happening. It can't possibly be. But I have three pot shops in three different neighborhoods with the right names. And I have three brothers! They're all dead, but I do."

Unbidden, a laugh burst from Sue. "Sorry."

"I like you better when you were too nervous to speak in court," snarled Gail.

"They're dead?" Sue was an inch from serious laughter.

"Come on," Gail groaned. "They've been dead for years. Bobby Zanaro's dad had two brothers. We're hunting down their kids but looks like most got whacked back when I was a uni."

Sue stopped laughing. "Oh. When they had that takeover? Isn't that..." She waved a hand around the room.

Yes. That was how Gail got the job upstairs. "Yep," she replied, popping the P.

Shaking her head, Sue handed the paper back. "Man, what goes around, comes around. Who'd've thought we'd all still be here."

"You are a pretty incestuous lot," muttered John.

"You can get out." Gail snarled at her sergeant warning.

John was so used to her now that he just smiled. "Nice to see you again, Sue. I'll get on the research for you."

Once John left, Sue grinned. "How'd a brat like you get a sergeant like him?"

"I blackmailed him," Gail replied flippantly. She typed more about the idea of a baseball sponsor into her report and realized Sue was still sitting on her couch. "What?"

"Your kid."

Gail blinked and closed her laptop lid. "Viv? I thought she did okay at the scene..."

The other woman shook her head. "Honest? She did great." Before Gail could make a flippant remark about Vivian being a Peck, Sue went on. "Your kid was actually pretty impressive. Did you read her report?"

"No. I try not to be my mother on her."

"She's smart, Gail. She gets it."

Gail frowned. "I hope so. She worked hard." She knew where was Sue going with this, and she didn't like it.

"My guys like her."

There it was. If Vivian had been a friend and not a daughter, Gail would tell Sue about the crush. But... "I'm not going to stop her, Sue. If she asks for the rotation, that's on her." The parent in her heart screamed. Let her kid, her only kid, go running into danger? Play with bombs that blew people up and storm buildings and take down shooters? Gail had seen how bad it got!

Sue, childless Sue, looked seriously at Gail. "There's not stopping and there's not helping," she said carefully. "I think she may have a knack for it."

Swallowing, Gail nodded. "Well. She's still a rook, Sue."

"I know, I know. But I gotta tell you. I see it there. She's not a weird junkie like Dov. She's got the look." Sue laced her fingers together. "She's not good with people, but she's good in a crisis."

Of all the scars that Vivian bore, the ones that made her reliable in a crisis were the only good ones. She was always the person her friends could turn to, when being beaten by bullies or high and scared. Vivian didn't freak out. She handled the situation. Even Nick said that Vivian was in control, if a bit of an automaton, when the guy blew his head off in front of her.

Maybe this was her niche after all. Maybe she wasn't going to be Oliver, like teen Vivian had dreamed. Maybe, maybe she was going to be like Sue.

"Tell you what, though," smiled Gail. "There are worse people to be like than you."

"Keep saying things like that, Peck, and I'll think you like me," retorted Sue, grinning.

"Don't get your hopes up. You broke my ribs. It'll be a long time before I forgive you for that."

But they laughed. Because people couldn't survive and exploding car and not be some kind of friends afterwards, now, could they?

Chapter Text

"Hang on, you can run up, like, a warped wall?" Lara was incredulous.

"Yeah, the 14 footer. There's one at this gym I go to, Ningymnastics." They all looked at her in a little awe, which was weird and disconcerting. "Yes, the name is stupid."

Christian shook his head. "How long have I known you and you never told me this? Dude, you could be on tv!"

"I never go to the tryouts," Vivian smiled sheepishly. "I just like playing around."

"So, like, you can do parkour?" Jenny put down another beer by Vivian. "No wonder you took that fence like a boss."

That was why they were talking about it. The day before they'd been chasing after a perp down some alleys. The criminal had taken out Duncan with a trash bin, only to have Vivian hurdle right over it and keep up. When he went over a fence, she hadn't even thought. Step left, step right, plant the feet and she all but ran up the side of the wall, used a hand to brace on the top of the fence, and vaulted right over it.

And Duncan's chest cam caught it all.

Dov had played it for her, telling her first not to do such dangerous moves and then asking how the hell she'd learned that, because Gail was not particularly familiar with the idea of exercise and he'd never known Holly to do that. By the end of the day, everyone of the old guard had seen it and wanted to know if it was luck or real. Vivian kept declining to show off until finally, that afternoon, Noelle dragged her to the gym as part of their certification.

Knowing very well that Vivian did that sort of thing for fun, Inspector Williams gave them all directions that sounded insane. Bleachers to the pommel horse, no touching the ground. Then the climbing wall to the ball pit, no touching balls. From there, use the mini trampoline to bounce to the wood wall, traverse the length with no feet, and touch the basketball hoop.

The rookies had laughed. No one could do it. Rich tried first, because that was the kind of guy he was, but whiffed the jump to the climbing wall and bruised his ass. While he sat on an ice pack, Noelle shouted 'Peck!' and sent Vivian to it.

Vivian was sure Noelle had only slummed it to run the tests to see Vivian show them up. And they all said Gail was the evil one. Hah.

It was half the course she normally played on, which meant it was fairly mundane. As soon as she cleared the jump to the climbing wall, remembering to still her lower body as she swung over, the rookies went silent. When she hung on to the inch deep wood slats (seriously, why did gyms even have them?) and traversed the long wall, they cheered.

And now they wanted to know how she'd done it. After Noelle showed them the video, Vivian showed them photos from the gym competitions she took part in.

Jenny was agog at the photos. "Why not? You could totally rock it!"

"You don't look like you're that strong." Lara squeezed Vivian's bicep. "I mean, I've seen you with your shirt off. You're not all muscle bound."

Wincing away, Vivian rubbed her arm. "Ow. And ... It's not about muscle mass. It's flexibility and strength."

Standing by them, Rich shook his head. "That was totally unfair. You're a ringer."

It was Jenny who came to Vivian's defense. "Actually, you volunteered. And you totally shoot better than she does."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Don't encourage him." She was not the shot that Gail was. In a controlled situation, like a competition shoot, she held her own. Gail was just fucking phenomenal. It was annoying.

"Hey, why were you all over the range last week?" Rich looked curious. "Trying to beat my score?"

"Nah, my mom's birthday is this week." Vivian sipped her beer as Christian oooohed. Everyone else was lost. "She has a target shoot every year. Second place wins a stupid hat and kudos for a year."

Rich frowned. "Second place?"

"Mom's never lost." Steve and Dov came very close two years prior, actually. In Gail's defense, she'd been recovering from a monster cold.

Clearing his throat, Rich asked, "Which mom?"

Vivian grinned. "Not the one you hit on." It was a delight to watch his face curl up into a mixture of fear and doubt. "Don't worry, they both thought it was funny. They take bets to which rookie hits on Holly first."

"Just Holly?" Jenny frowned. "Not that the doc isn't hot, but me? I'd go for Gail. She's like... Marilyn Monroe looks."

"She tends to scare people off," remarked Christian. "She can be real intense." He'd seen her being her most intense. When Denise threatened to not pay for university, Gail, Dov, and Oliver had driven to Timmins to have 'words' with Denise. Apparently Gail's words were a little brutal.

Jenny thought about that and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I can see that. But the doc is so easy going. What was that like, growing up?"

Smiling, Vivian admitted, "Awesome. Kinda annoying sometimes."

"Hell, that's just parents," laughed Lara. "Mine freaked out when I told them I was going to be a cop."

Conversation swung around to that for the rest of the night. Vivian, with a cop for a parent, was excused from any explanations. They all assumed her parents knew everything anyway. But it was Jenny who got awkward and unwilling when they asked about her family. And only Vivian knew why. So she stepped in and joked about how her parents would have had a heart attack if she'd been a fireman.

Because that's what friends did. Right? They covered for each other.

No matter how many times Elaine suggested it, Holly shot it down. "No party. Elaine, she doesn't want one."

"My daughter is fifty," sighed Elaine. "We should do more than dinner and shooting."

"She wants dinner and shooting. Besides, you get next spring." That had been the only trade off Holly had been able to wrangle, without having to resort to Gail's assistance at Peck Negotiations.

Elaine huffed. "Tell me you're at least taking her away somewhere."

With a smile, Holly nodded. "We're going up to the cottage."

Her mother in law rolled her eyes. "Didn't you go to Europe for her forty-fifth?"

"We did, and we're going to Greece for our twenty-fifth, so this year and next are budget friendly."

With a dissatisfied look, Elaine muttered, "Greece could still use the money."

"Stop it, or I start asking for details about you nice man who came to the ballet with us last month. Gordo?" It was fun to watch Elaine blush. "It's what she wants and it's what we both like, Elaine."

The woman sighed and stabbed her salad with a fork. "At least I don't need to keep an eye on my granddaughter. Everyone says she's doing well. How's she getting along with her class? Gail had such a hard time with that." At least Elaine had the grace to look guilty about it.

Holly waggled a hand. "She's doing better. She still hates talking about herself."

"I hated that too," admitted Elaine. "Everyone had it out for the rich, high society girl, slumming it in blue."

Admittedly, Holly had never really thought of it that way. "If only that was her problem. I think it's impacting her romantic life more than anything."

Elaine looked a little concerned. "Oh dear." She shook her head. "Things aren't getting better after the shooting?"

"No. But not worse either." Her mother-in-law also knew the story of Vivian's past, as much as the courts recorded. She'd read it before Vivian had moved in, before Holly had known all the details actually. And Elaine had helped Gail to get the records sealed.

At the time, Holly had been livid that Elaine had read them. Now she understood what it meant to be a parent. She saw the lengths she herself would go to in order to made Vivian happy and healthy and whole. It gave her a very different view on her own parents. Also having Elaine to talk to about this aspect of parenting was a relief. They could share the burden a little.

They didn't talk about Vivian or Gail for the rest of lunch though. Elaine and Holly had started carving out time to just hang out and talk shortly after Gail came back from her undercover op saving the then Prince of Wales. They had lunch at least once a month, and while they could talk about work, more often they talked about little things. A book Holly was reading, a movie Elaine liked, a sports game Holly was caught up in, and maybe some family matters.

With the arguments of Gail's birthday out of the way, and the discussion of Vivian's stumbling into adulthood shelved for now, they got to the rest of their topics. Like Elaine's boyfriend. Man friend. Gordo. Like Holly's new paper and how she was invited to give a TED talk about it.

She liked Elaine a lot. That wasn't true when they'd first met, and it hadn't been true at all for years. Now they were family. They could tease each other and push each other and they had that comfortable familiarity borne of something more than just being bound together by Holly wearing Gail's ring. They liked each other. They were friends who both adored Gail.

After lunch, Holly spent her day trying hard to wipe her docket clear. She wanted nothing hanging over her head when she dragged Gail off that weekend. When her phone rang, and it was Gail, she smiled. "Hello, Detective."

"Hi, Doc. Quick question."

Oh. It was a work call. "Tell me I'm not on speaker."

Gail laughed. "You are not."

"Then please, go ahead."

"Fentanyl. Addictive or not?"

"Technically, anything can be addictive depending on the person's chemistry and genetic makeup. Any substance or event that sends the right stimuli to the reward center of your brain has the potential to -" Gail coughed. "It's an opiate, Gail."

"Oh, an opiate. Like heroin. Huh, so you're saying taking it every day would be downright addictive." The way Gail spoke told Holly what was going on.

"Gail Peck, are you calling me from interrogation?"

"Yes, yes I am, Doc."

"You're terrible. Is he tweaking?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Holly laughed softly. "It's addictive and it escalates. So he'll need more and more as time goes on."

"That explains a lot. Thanks."

"You're welcome, dear. Please tell me this isn't going to delay our trip."

"Unlikely to be a factor," drawled Gail.

"Good, because I have plans for you, and they involve you being naked with me where no one can hear you scream my name. And you will be begging."

There was a lengthy pause. "Duly noted," Gail managed, her voice normal but taut. Hah. Got her.

Holly smiled and chirped in her best Chloe imitation, "Alright. I love you."

"Back attcha, Doc," replied Gail and she hung up.

It was always a little fun to flirt with Gail when she couldn't do anything back. Once, Holly had cheerfully talked dirty when Gail was getting information in the car with John driving, safe in the knowledge that Gail had an earpiece in. She loved it. Of course, Gail got her back from time to time.

Her next Peck call was from Steve, who wanted to know the details for the shoot. And then of all people, her daughter showed up. "Hi, Mom." The young woman was still in uniform, even though it was past sunset.

"Well hello, stranger."

Vivian grinned. "I got it." She held up a pistol case.

While Holly disliked guns, she had long since accepted her wife's necessary reliance on them and her open attraction to them. Knowing this, Holly had looked for the perfect gift for her snarky wife and struck upon the idea of a new gun. She quickly drafted her daughter to help, and Vivian suggested they get her a new backup piece, since Gail's favorite had finally passed the point of safe repair.

"Is it the same?"

"Mom, I told you. They haven't made a Colt Pocket 9 since before I was born." Vivian rolled her eyes and closed the office door. "There's a lawsuit. I made the guy get out all the pocket 9s. I thought it'd be the Sig, but the single action was really a pain in the ass. The Ruger and the Walther had nice pulls, but the new model Kahr CM9 was totally the winner."

Holly sighed. "Honey, I love you but why are you saying all those words?"

Her daughter smiled a quirky side smile, just like Holly did. "Mom will love it."

"Thank you. Can I see it?" Vivian put the case on Holly's desk and popped it open. "It's tiny," she marveled.

"It's supposed to be." Vivian reached in and picked it up, turning it so Holly could see there was no clip, and demonstrating the way it looked in someone's hand. "Mom's got smaller hands than I do, so she'll have a better grip. I got her the plus one mag-"

Holly snorted a laugh. "Sorry. Yes, I know that means it has an extra round. It's just..."

"That's why I did it." Vivian showed that the chamber was empty and then the magazine, before holding the gun out to Holly.

She didn't hold guns. She wasn't going to start now. "Pass. It looks pretty. And light." Vivian put the gun back and held out the nylon holster. "Now this is ... butch."

The rookie police officer snorted a laugh. "Seriously? Mom's not butch."

As Holly took the holster and inspected it, Vivian pulled a silver metallic pen from her pants pocket. "She really isn't, is she?" Holly took the pen and shook it. "Do you know what you're going to write?"

"Kinda. You?"

Holly nodded and carefully wrote BE SAFE and her initials. "I know it's trite."

But her daughter just smiled. "No, I like it. You guys should write in my vest..." She took the pen and holster and hesitated. DO GOOD. Holly tilted her head in confusion. "She'll get it."

And just like that, Holly got it. The most important thing to do, if you were a cop, was to do good things. Do right things. Gail had stressed that multiple times to young Vivian. And Vivian was letting her know she'd heard and understood.

"You are a good child," sighed Holly.

"You're a good mom," noted Vivian. "But Nick's waiting downstairs. We gotta finish up."

Holly sighed and reached over to adjust Vivian's tie. "Did you make him help you with this?"

"Nah, I told him I had to pick up Mom's present." She put the holster in the case and locked it up, placing the key on top. "You good with this?"

"Yes, I'm good with it. No bullets, right?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "You're such a loser, nerd Mom."

Smiling, Holly took the case and put it by her purse. "When are you off shift?"

"We gotta file paperwork and then I'm done. Maybe an hour or two."

"And your mom?"

"Last seen with a tweaker and John, trying to press him for information. Depends on if he cracks." Vivian grinned. "They sent Lara out to get mini Smarties though." That was Gail's favorite tweaker snack. Vivian's radio crackled. "Gotta bounce. See you at dinner."

Holly leaned in her doorway, watching her daughter literally bounce down the hallway. Knowing half the lab, Vivian greeted most by name or title. A memory of watching Gail saunter down the hall in uniform popped into Holly's mind. Vivian looked nothing like Gail did then. Gail always had a swagger to her, a sway that promised she was in charge and not to be taunted. Vivian still looked like the kid in the candy store.

Not having known Gail as a rookie, Holly wondered if she'd had the same bounce to her step. She'd have to ask Oliver.

"Night shift," groaned Christian as they looked at the schedule.

"It's not like it's the first time," Vivian noted, adding the schedule to her calendar on her phone. "You ready to rock and roll, Fuller?" The rookies had been pairing up on their own for a while and Vivian had to admit she really liked it.

Christian scowled. "How come you're on a different schedule?"

Unlike Christian, who started nights after two days off, Vivian had three days. "Because it's Mom's birthday in two days? Hello."

"Pecks," muttered Rich, leaning around Vivian to look at his schedule. "Bet they just pushed your name around."

"Hey, enjoy four days without all the Pecks on patrol," joked Vivian. The majority of them were coming to the party, if not the shooting. The shooting was just the old crew. Elaine had implied she'd retire at the end of this year, which Gail teased was because of how badly she'd been doing. In her eighties, Elaine's ability to shoot was actually pretty amazing.

"Peck, my office," called out Noelle as Vivian test fired her gun.

"Ooooh, Peck's in trouble!" Rich shoved her shoulder.

Ignoring her asshat classmate, Vivian headed on her mission. She rapped on Noelle's door up on the third floor. It was on the other end of the floor from Gail's office, which was currently empty. "Come here and close the door."

"Is this gonna be a spy thing, ma'am?"

Noelle rolled her eyes. "No, Vivian, this is your best friend's mom telling you something. So no gossip."

Affronted, Vivian pointed out, "Pecks don't gossip."

"I mean no telling Steve."

"Oh. Okay. What's wrong?"

Noelle took a deep breath. "I'm retiring."

Well that was a hell of a thing. "What? Now!?"

"January," sighed Noelle. Two months.

Vivian looked stunned. "Why... Why are you telling me?"

Noelle looked sadly at her. "Because I promised my daughter that I'd see you cut loose. And I don't want to fail that promise. Reviews are Thursday afternoon."

What the what? Vivian's eyes widened. "But..." Reviews were in February, before her birthday. That's what Dov said at dinner when he brought his homebrew. That was just a couple weeks ago, when he and Chloe had argued about which one of them would have a better chance against Gail at the range.

"I made Dov push 'em up. You guys are doing well. But that means..."

"Recerts. Tomorrow?"

"Today. We're announcing that at Parade."

Vivian nodded, feeling a bit of fear set in for the first time. Two things had to happen in two days before her mother turned fifty. "Thanks." She'd planned to go to the range every day for the three weeks leading up to their recertifications. Of course she went every week, with Gail to boot, but that was more casual shooting. She'd been practicing for Gail's birthday, not a recert. The shoot was totally different!

"Hey," Noelle looked at her like the woman who used to come cheer at soccer games. She was the mom Vivian had known for years. "Don't freak out, okay? Gail flubbed her first recert at the range."

That didn't help. "I know," she exhaled. "It's just... I don't want to fuck up before her birthday."

Noelle smirked and got up. "You won't, okay? You're good. You've been doing great for anyone, let alone a Peck, so don't get scared." Throwing an arm up and around Vivian's shoulders, Noelle hugged her briefly and let go. "When did you get tall?"

That helped. "You just got short," teased Vivian. She walked with Noelle to Parade, hands shoved in her pockets.

Dov was sitting at the front of the room, in a stool, leaving room at the podium for Noelle. "Rookies," he said loudly. "Come up front." They did, everyone else looking nervous. "This morning, you're all going to the range. Anyone who doesn't recertify is benched. And reviews are tomorrow."

The whole room started talking. It wasn't just because of Noelle leaving, realized Vivian. The force was short handed in general. She glanced around. The room was only two thirds what it was when Gail had been in uniform, wasn't that what Gail had complained about? Recruitment was down. When she looked back at Noelle, she caught the nod.

"Inspector Williams, in the mean time, will be supervising with me the recertification of our senior officers!" Now the room hooted. "And up for grabs is, courtesy of our esteemed third floor, is a bottle of single malt. Over $1000 dollars. Goes to, who Duncan?"

"Copper with the best time, sir."

The room broke up laughing. From the back, Gail's voice shouted, "Who had the worst time last year?" Duncan didn't answer and the room laughed. Of course Gail had come down to see the fights. "Epstein. Care for Ds versus unis?"

"Not if you're sending in a ringer."

"Not my fault I got Nash." Traci was the ringer with fights and everyone knew it. Hearing her mother flaunt that, though, was hilarious.

Dov smirked. "McNally, go take our rooks to light it up."

As Vivian followed McNally out, Gail held up a fist. Vivian blinked and then saw her mother's broad grin. She made a fist and tapped it to Gail's. It said everything. It said good luck, it said not to Peck things up, but it also said that it was alright no matter what happened. It was all alright.

"Dude, your mom just fist bumped you." Rich, of course, gave her shit. Sometimes he seemed to be able to remember that Vivian had two moms, sometimes not.

"Dude," said McNally, opening the door to the range. "Her mom has the record for competition shoots for the whole force."

Rich's face went a little white. "What?"

Competition shoots were totally different than most things they did on the range. They reflected nothing past the ability to stay calm in a controlled situation. But damn if Gail's string of wins wasn't impressive. Rich and Jenny stopped to look at the plaque on the wall, where it read "Peck, G." and an obscenely high score for over half the shoots for the last fifteen years. Gail actually had two occasions where she had a perfect score on a shoot. Once when she was in her twenties, before meeting Holly, and once when Vivian had been a teen. Most of the shoots where she was listed, Gail had a score in the top ten, if not five.

Vivian leaned in and whispered, "The years she's not listed? She didn't compete." It was a lie. Gail had her off days too. But it was more fun this way. "And yes, you hit on her wife." She patted his cheek and walked up to the desk clerk.

Seeing her, the clerk smiled. "Hey, Little Peck. All set for Friday! I got it booked clear for you guys for the hour."

"Thanks." She saw Christian patting Rich's shoulder. The idiot's discomfort and the normalcy of being on the range was settling Vivian's nerves more than anything else.

McNally marched them into the range and lined them up. Vivian closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of the range. She knew the range. She came here every week and had since she was twelve. "Okay, everyone. Load and make ready. Chamber a round." Vivian opened her eyes and took hold of her gun, loading and making ready. "This scenario is called 'shoot, don't shoot.' If your target looks like a bad guy, you shoot. If it does not, Peck?"

Vivian knew the answer and smiled as she shouted, "Do not shoot, ma'am!"

"That is right." McNally walked up and down the line. "Alright. Are you ready?"

They all shouted. "Yes, ma'am!" Vivian took her shooter's stance.

"Okay. Let's make some good decisions. The range is hot!"

The targets popped up. Vivian saw the mother with the baby and quickly lowered her gun while the shots of most of her classmates echoed around her. Do not shoot.

"And hold. Prove safe, benches down." McNally pressed a button and the targets zoomed in. "Let's see how we did." She walked down the line. "Nice. Good. Good call, Peck." McNally paused at Christian's booth. "Good cluster, Fuller. Impressive."

Vivian leaned over to look and flashed Christian a thumbs up. Only one shot outside of the body. "Nice!" she hissed at him.

But McNally wasn't done. "You did very well, rookies. Under controlled circumstances." Vivian's heart pounded. She knew this one. This was an Oliver moment. Deep breath. "You already know out there, real life, is not controlled. It's unpredictable. It's wild."

"Here it comes," muttered Vivian.

"Holster the guns." Andy was grinning. "Come on, put the guns away. Step back." As everyone stepped back, Andy pointed to the ground. "Drop and give me fifteen."

Not arguing, Vivian and, she was pleased to see, Christian dropped. Rich blustered. "What!?"

"Thirty seconds, Hanford! Gimme push-ups or you fail."

Rich swore and hit the deck. Fifteen push-ups. They were probably easier for Vivian than they'd been for noodle armed rookie Gail. "Calm down, Rich, she's just trying to mess us up," said Christian, easily pumping out his lot.

"Fuller, shut it! Everyone up, load your clips." McNally slapped the wall and the lights started flashing. It was like a disco. It was loud. Vivian was never more grateful that Oliver had made her try this a handful of times in the last five years. "Range is hot! Benches up! Come on, faster! Go!"

In the blinking, flashing, room, it was harder to see. It was harder to think. Vivian listened to Gail's voice in her head. How many times had Gail told her that using a gun had to be natural and decisive? A gunshot wasn't something you could take back. Don't fire unless you're absolutely sure. The reminders sprinted through her head in an instant.

Go.

Shoot or don't shoot? Was it the gunman or the man with a cell phone or the mother?

Decide.

And things slowed and clarified in her head. She calmed her breathing. She saw the figure on the paper and she knew.

She fired.

Six shots and the lights stopped flashing. Six shots and the targets went dark. Six shots and that was all she had to decide if she was going to pass tomorrow. But hey, no pressure.

"Prove safe, benches down." McNally's voice was softer. "Hanford, you shot the mother. Her family is going to sue."

"I thought it was the gunman," he muttered.

"It wasn't. Take a good look at her, Hanford."

Rich looked down. "Sorry."

"Aronson, Volk, not bad. Not great. I want you three back here this afternoon." The trio mumbled their understanding. "Fuller, good call. That civilian with a cell phone shit his pants, but he's going to live." Then McNally paused. "Interesting, Peck."

What did that mean? Vivian looked from McNally to her target. The man with a gun. Four shots center mass. One shot shoulder. One shot wide. All things considered, it was actually pretty good, she'd thought. "What does it mean, ma'am?" Did they fail? Did a miss count as a failure?

Taking a deep breath, McNally gestured. "It means you're still rookies. Report to Epstein for your assignments."

Three of them were stuck on desk. Two of them were not. Two of them were told to take out 1509 and go on patrol. Together.

When they were discretely away from their benched classmates, Vivian and Christian swapped high fives. "Dude," he laughed. "We rocked!"

As worried as she was about the bumped up time table, Vivian grinned. "Yeah, we did." She knew it wasn't perhaps the best thing, as a person, to be so excited about the recertification, but even Nick had talked about how he nearly choked on his. It was a tough moment. She didn't want to fail. Not this close to Gail's birthday.

Christian, who had been practicing on his own regularly, felt the pressure as much as she did. His mother had been agitating for him to drop out and come home. "Where are the keys?" When Vivian jangled them, he groaned. "No no, I do not want you to drive, Grand Tourismo Peck!"

"It's Gran Turisimo, and you snooze, you lose." She bounded down the hall. "Gotta make a call. We roll in five, Fuller!" Pulling out her phone she tapped a very specific name.

"Well good morning, Peckling."

She couldn't not smile. "Hi, Uncle Ollie."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of you disrupting my coffee?"

"First, it's nine. You're lazy." He laughed over the phone. "Second... Thank you."

Oliver sounded surprised. "You are most welcome, quietest of all my Pecks. What did I do? Just so I can do it again."

"I passed my recert on the first go." Because there was one person who told her the truth about how it was hard and why it was hard. Just one person who taught her the zen of shooting on the worst day. And it wasn't a Peck. Pecks, even Gail, believed you thrived in adversity.

"Already? But Gail's shoot 'em out is in two days. Isn't it early?"

"A lot, yeah. And Friday they go to the cottage."

"Ooh la la," laughed Oliver. "Planning on throwing another party?"

The one time… She groaned at him. "I have night shift next week, so mostly planning on sleeping."

"You are as wise as you are taciturn, my dear. And I will see you on Thursday for the drinking and the revelry."

Because the most anyone could talk Gail into for her own birthday, so close to Christmas, were drinks and a cake at the Black Penny. If they were lucky, and they still didn't know if they were, there would be karaoke. "Oliver, I love you. Please don't sing Natural Woman. Again. Ever."

"First of all, my Petulant Peck loves my voice. Secondly, I learned a new one from Jerry."

"Oh god. I don't think I want to know." She laughed. "I have to go. Only Christian and I passed, so we get to patrol."

"Lucky you... Don't pull a McNally."

"Why? What did she do?"

"Prison transport with Swarek."

Vivian snorted. "Did they lose the prisoner?" When Oliver didn't answer, she guffawed. "I'll remind her of this later," she promised, grinning ear to ear.

"That's my Peck's daughter. Go. Protect, serve, be safe. I'm proud of you, kid."

"Thanks, Ollie." Vivian hung up and smiled at the phone. She knew she didn't have to tell her parents, but she wanted to. Just... She wanted to after she was cut loose. That would be the right thing. Besides. It wasn't like Gail didn't already know. Someone was probably telling her right now.

Her phone pinged again. Gail ignored it again. John begged again, "Gail, will you please answer that?"

"It's just updates from the fights downstairs," she dismissed and read the report again. "I really don't like this, John."

"I really want you to turn off the phone." He pushed it towards her and Gail ignored the phone. "Fine. What's the memo?"

"Gun sales are up." She handed him the tablet. "Way up. Swarek's report matches this one." Gail watched John's face still and drift into bitchy-resting-face as he read. "You won't like my theory."

He glanced at her. "Yeah, I don't." John flicked the report up and down on the screen, checking things. "Shit," he muttered. "Is this why they bumped up the recerts?"

"Afraid so. That and Noelle's retiring in January." Gail leaned back and propped her feet up. "Recruitment's down, gang violence is up. It's a grand old time."

John smiled slightly. "And you're in charge of Guns & Gangs."

"And you're my sergeant."

They shared a grin and Gail's phone rang. "Please pick the phone up!"

Gail flipped him off as she answered her phone. "Peck. Better be good, McNally."

"Your kid cheated."

"It's not cheating, it's called being prepared." Gail felt her mouth split into a mammoth grin. Her kid passed.

"Well. She had one miss and one shoulder, but she nailed it. Second highest score in her class."

"Christian?"

Andy was silent for a moment. "How do you do that?"

"I'm awesome," smiled Gail. "And I've seen him at the range every time I went there for three weeks." She gave him advice while she was there, since he looked so damn earnest. Besides, Gail knew Vivian was hitting up Oliver for help.

"Well fine. He earned it. I sent them off together so Nick could type up his review."

"Tell Nicholas that you spell it e-x-c-e-l-" Andy's laughter cut her off before she could finish spelling excellent. "You got anything else?"

"Nope. Just three grumpy desk-bound idiots."

Gail hung up and tossed the phone down. "There. You happy?"

"What was her score?"

"She passed, I could care less about the rest, John." However, Gail did give the score and showed him the target, both of which Andy had texted her. He complimented the grouping and her mind drifted back to the case at hand. They'd shelved the mystery bomber, lack of evidence was crippling to a case, and John was primarily back on the pot shop shit.

The name that stood out right now was Dr. Veronica Van Lowe. They'd traced back not the pot nor the Fentanyl to her, but rejected prescriptions. Almost two thirds of the prescriptions at the pot shops had been turned down by her offices. From there, the eventual users were spread out across dozens of doctors.

Gail grimaced and propped her feet up on her desk. Was there a relation to them? Was it just dumb luck? Were people getting above their pay grade... "John," she said slowly. "The pot shops we busted for Fentanyl. Are they all on that edge of the Rivers/Hill border?"

There was the sound of tapping, and John grunted. "They are. And? The clean ones are well inside Rivers' territory."

"So the laced shit is Hill and the pure is Rivers."

"Do you think we scared them off? Catching their weed trick?"

"No. I think we may be why things are escalating." She took her feet off the table and let them thud to the ground. "We tipped the Hill's hands. We showed their cards to Three Rivers and now Rivers is getting themselves armed."

John looked worried. "And they're tipping their own hand, showing they're weird with three sectors-" He stopped. "Put the map up.

Tapping the keys, Gail put the area map up on her glass wall. "Gang border is the dashed line. Hill shops are red, Rivers in blue."

Her sergeant uncapped a dry-erase pen. "If we use the three main shops and split the areas based on the rivers, we get this."

Gail looked at the lines. "Or this..." She got up and erased his lines, drawing ones not around the rivers, but around something else. One went around where Dr. Van Lowe's offices were. One went around where Bobby Zanaro used to frequent.

"Those aren't even."

"Zanaro takes over Zanaro," explained Gail, putting a Z in the largest sector. "Dr. Van Lowe... She'd be here." Gail marked that with a V. "Leaving our mystery guest ..."

John was already banging on his keyboard. "I'm running a full check on our doctor right now. Extended, see if her parents have relatives that we can tie into Zanaro and anyone else."

Nodding, Gail bounced back to her computer to store the updated map. "Look for someone boring. Lawyer. HR rep. Investment broker. Actuary."

"Why those?"

"Zanaro knows gangs. The doctor knows drugs. Someone's got to be helping them with the money. Blood is thicker, right?" He grunted. That was John for an agreement. Holly would make a comment about how the phrase didn't mean that at all. "And that actually explains Prancing Unicorn now that I think about it. Rivers didn't know he was lacing, so we got two types of added fentanyl because the gang did one and the owner did the other."

"Neither did Hill. That's what what's his face, that hipster idiot? That's why he was there trying to hit 'em up."

"He's also an idiot," countered Gail. "I don't think he knew one way or the other."

John grunted again. "No, I don't like that. Why would the name brands of the territories, your theory not mine, be the ones to fold over?"

"They're the edges. Also we have a dozen little shops that match the names." She tapped a key and the map on her wall lit up with all the small shops. "Bugs me I can't find a damn eagle."

Tossing his tablet onto the couch, John groaned. "Maybe it's a metaphor. You keep saying they're smart."

"No one plots all things years in advance like this." She waved her hands at the screen.

"You would." John looked dead serious.

But they had no answers that day. The background checks hit roadblocks with the CMA laws around Dr. Van Lowe, so warrants were scribbled up in a hurry. And pushed back. And re-written. And pushed back. Which was when Gail gave up, took herself to the range to shoot, and then went home.

Vivian and Holly were already cooking dinner. Mostly Vivian. Holly was technically stirring something, but she was more talking on her phone. "Mom, that's not what I said at all... No. No. I'm not apologizing that I have a busy job. You're retired, you come out for Christmas if it's that big a deal."

Oh wonderful. Holly and Lily were fighting. Slipping upstairs, Gail locked away her gun, badge, and laptop, and shed her jacket and shoes, before coming back down. Her wife was still arguing, but she'd wandered into the living room. "Hi," whispered Gail.

"Hi," mouthed Holly. "No, Mom, Gail just got home... Yes... We don't know." Holly made a face at Gail. A fight but she wasn't too angry. "Mom, hang on." She covered the mouthpiece. "No kiss?"

Gail rolled her eyes and kissed Holly softly. "Be nice to your mother," she whispered. Then she took Holly's hand off her phone. "Lily, be nice to your daughter."

Her wife's eyes were laughing as she went back to her conversation. "I'm just saying, we may have to book a last second flight, if we can do it. And I don't think Vivian wants to crash on the guest cottage couch again."

They were the negotiations about Christmas vacation. "Do you?" Gail leaned over to see what Vivian was cooking.

"It would be really bratty of me to stay home," sighed the rookie. "But then I think it would be favoritism to not work the holiday. Especially-" Vivian stopped abruptly.

Ah. "Noelle told you?" When Vivian looked relieved, Gail smiled. "It's weird. No lie."

Vivian checked the sear on her meat and poured in the sauce (aka what Holly had been stirring). "They're pushing us faster," she told her mother. "How bad is enlistment this year?"

Gail stuck her pinky in the sauce and tasted it. "Oh, that's good. Put in some molasses." Her daughter glowered. "It's bad, kiddo. They're holding off on the next class, and combining it with a couple other cities."

Looking like she'd bitten into a lemon, Vivian got the molasses and spooned in some. "That's really scary."

"Yeah, it is." It might be scarier for her than Vivian, mused Gail. She knew what the kid was getting into. "You know they won't cut you guys loose if you're not capable, right?"

Her daughter stirred the food. "I don't know, Mom. If Oliver was in charge... Maybe."

"You don't trust Noelle?"

"It's Dov I'm worried about."

Gail snorted. "Well, worry about this. Until they replace Noelle, I'm the ranking inspector at Fifteen."

The younger Peck froze. "Wait, what?" A look of actual horror washed across her face. "You'd be our inspector? Why not... Why not Steve? Or Traci?"

"I am going to hold it against you that you want your aunt and uncle instead of me," huffed Gail, feeling a little miffed.

Vivian deflated. "Mom, come on, you already steer three divisions. You do this, lesbian-bed-death will be real and I don't think Parent Trapping you up to the cottage will help."

Okay. The kid had a point. And it was adorable she was worried about her parents sex life. "I'll appoint someone else to be in charge if that happens," decided Gail then and there. "Not Steve, though. I'll be surprised if he makes it through next year." Then again, Steve would be a great interim inspector for the division. Give him a bump in salary before leaving.

Her daughter looked a little sad. "I'll miss him." She turned off the burner. "Mom! Dinner!" They both heard Holly tell Lily she had to go and she loved her.

Holly was louder when she came back into the kitchen. "Viv, if you want to work Christmas, I will not hold it against you."

That was not a good sign. Gail thought back to her last few conversations with Lily and realized the issue. "She's bored to death now that she retired, and has switched to meddling?"

Her wife nodded, morosely, getting out glasses. "What do we drink with this?"

"Something red and with tannins," suggested Gail. "I got it." She walked over to their small wine collection. "Maybe we should get my Mom to give Lily some ideas?" Elaine was still doing fundraising work for child advocacy, medical research, and queer youths. She'd probably keep doing that until she died, at this rate.

"That's not a terrible idea." Holly put the glasses down and brought Vivian the dishes. "Sorry I bailed on you, honey."

But their child didn't seem to mind. "Luckily my moms aren't into meddling at this point," she teased. "I don't know if I should work Christmas or not."

The plates were brought to the table and they took their normal seats. "Maybe Dov can pick names out of a hat?" Holly looked thoughtful as she spoke.

"Yeah, but then there's the whole volunteer thing. I mean, am I a brown-noser for volunteering or am I taking advantage of my name if I don't?" Vivian picked up her fork, clearly thinking more deeply about it than Gail had at the same age. Then she asked, "Why not Dov for inspector?"

Holly snorted. "Because that would make McNally your sergeant." They all paused. McNally had her faults, as Gail loved to point out, but she had grown up a lot. The idealistic moron had faded away.

"Actually..." Gail started. "Dov's been talking about going to IA or the super's staff." She hadn't told Holly, mostly because it hadn't really mattered. "He doesn't want to be an division inspector. Says it'll give him grey hairs."

"Hasn't given you any," smiled Holly, reaching over to fluff Gail's short hair. It was blonde. Again.

"She dyes it. You can't possible know what color..." Vivian trailed off and looked a little off color. "Ugh, I need brain bleach."

Gail laughed. "You need to get laid, kiddo." Her daughter flipped her off. "Is that why you want to stay home over Christmas?"

Deadpan, Vivian replied, "Yes. I plan on having an orgy." She took a bite of her food and shook her head.

They didn't come to any sort of agreement of anything that night, but it was alright. As Gail stretched out in bed and watched Holly change, she remarked. "Its weird how much Viv is and isn't like us."

Holly paused, pulling her shirt on. "Nick said the same thing."

"Hey, this bedroom is a Nicholas free zone," snarled Gail. But Holly knew her too well after twenty years and just smiled. "I mean, she thinks about the implications of things way more than I did as a rookie. Like, she was freaked to hell about failing the recertification."

"She passed?" Holly looked like that was news and slid into bed.

There was a moment of shuffling around as they got into more comfortable spots. "She didn't tell you either, huh? Andy told me."

Leaning in, Holly kissed her slowly. "If this bedroom is a Nick free zone, then this bed is an Andy free zone."

"Bleck!" Gail gagged and flopped onto her back. "She thinks a lot. That's totally you."

Holly lay down, resting her head against Gail's shoulder. Reflexively, Gail wrapped her arm around her wife. "She came that way," Holly said quietly. "But we raised a really good kid."

Gail smiled. "We did." Closing her eyes, she felt Holly's hand on her stomach. It was comfortable, having Holly up in her personal space. It always had been. There was a wonderful softness about Holly that made her so wonderful to share space with. The curves and the gentleness... It wasn't restrictive or oppressive.

From the very start of their friendship, Holly had broken Gail's normal reactions. She was the harbinger of change in Gail's life, and Gail didn't mind a bit. "Hey, Holly," she said quietly. The brunette hummed softly, still awake. "I love you."

The muffled shaking on her shoulder told Gail that Holly was laughing a little. "I love you, too," she replied. The hand on Gail's stomach moved, fingers tracing the satiny fabric. "Even if you're fifty and you don't have grey hairs."

Now it was Gail who laughed. She caught Holly's roaming hand and kissed her knuckles. "Pure luck. Dad was grey at my age. Steve's grey. Mom..."

"Elaine's a bottle." Holly wriggled her fingers free and caressed Gail's face. "I do. Love you." Gail smiled and leaned into the hand. Moving, Holly propped herself up and kissed the side of Gail's face. Then her jaw. "I really do."

Gail smiled as the kisses moved to her lips and then back to the side of her neck. There was an unexpected implication in the kisses. "What are you doing?" Her voice felt lighter than normal.

At first Holly didn't reply. She ghosted her lips over the shell of Gail's ear, slid her hand up to trace Gail's ribs, and started to shift her weight. "The other day I was teasing my wife," she explained, her voice quiet. "Telling her what I'm going to do to her on her birthday."

"I heard that," Gail replied, tilting her head and letting Holly have more access to her neck. It felt nice. It felt beyond nice. God, Holly was really good at making her feel things. She smiled and ran her hand up Holly's back to toy with her hair.

"Well," explained Holly, straddling Gail's waist. "My plan was to get her fired up and wanton that she'd want to ditch early and I could have my way with her." Holly leaned in and kissed the other side of Gail's neck.

Yeah, that was really, really, nice. Deliciously nice. "What happened to your plan?"

"Backfired." Holly tugged at Gail's nightie. "I keep thinking about her. The way she smells. The way her skin feels. The way it looks in the dark."

At least Holly didn't say the way she glowed in the dark. Gail laughed softly. "I heard your wife doesn't like her birthday," she pointed out, running her hands up Holly's sides.

Holly sat up, smiling. "She hates when people make a fuss over her." Her dark eyes roamed over Gail's body, hands a moment behind.

That made her feel sexy. "Do you remember when you made me dinner? When I got promoted the first time?" Holly paused and nodded. "The way you looked at me when I came downstairs..." She trailed off and looked at Holly's face.

Even without her glasses on, Holly was focused on Gail just then. Her lips were turned into that smile that wasn't the careless, quirk to the side, but the one that was soft and private. The smile that was for Gail. The smile that said she loved her and her alone. It was a rare smile from Holly, one with dimples and scrunched eyes. The first time Gail had seen it, she was drunk and shorn in Holly's bathtub.

She'd called Holly the coolest chick ever and there, in a flash, was the smile with teeth, followed by this smile. This one where she thought Gail was beautiful. That smile made Gail rethink her night and how it would end. The smile made her reconsider what she was and what she wanted to be.

Reaching back, Holly wound her hair around itself, getting it out of the way. They didn't have to say another word. They knew how the night was going to end. Gail smiled back, feeling full of wonder and awe. She had this. She had this woman who wanted her for who she was, who never asked her to stop being her, who made her better.

Who loved her.

Whom she loved.

Gail smiled back and said nothing because she couldn't think of anything to say, and because she trusted Holly would know and understand what she meant with the look. Because she knew what Holly meant with that look.

But, as Holly tugged Gail's silky nightgown up, as Gail lifted her shoulders to help slip it off, and as Holly leaned down to kiss the newly available skin, she spoke. She breathed out a word. "Yes."

And Holly, Holly repeated it, her breath washing over Gail's chest. "Yes."

As she took the shotgun seat without a complaint, Nick asked, "Late night?"

He was not the first person that day to remark on the dark circles under her eyes. "Noisy roommates." She sucked down half of her coffee, hoping it would help.

Nick, unlike anyone else who might hear that, took sympathy. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket, aviators, and handed them over. "How the hell did Dov put up with it," he muttered.

Sliding the glasses on, Vivian pointed out, "Mom only slept there once, and she swears it was just sleeping."

"I was thinking Chris, but..." He smiled. "Sorry. Gail's ... Yeah."

"Why do I keep forgetting you guys went out?"

"Selective memory?"

She smiled at him. "Maybe." Looking out the window, Vivian caught her reflection. Aviators. "Hey, you'll know. All the pictures of Mom as a rookie, she has these aviator glasses. But then, after she started dating Mom- Holly- she doesn't. Where'd they go?"

Nick snorted. "You're wearing them." What the what? Vivian turned and stared at her TO. "Gail gave them back to me after she started dating Holly. Said she forgave me for Andy and she didn't need them anymore."

The sunglasses were Nick's. "She stole them?"

"No... I ..." He paused and looked worried.

There were few reasons he'd be that skittish about the topic, given everything else they'd talked about over the last six months. "Collins, I know about the engagement," she said dryly. "The whole thing. Including how you split because Elaine terrorized you."

Nick looked relieved. "I left them. On accident."

"Sounds like Mom," she decided and looked back on the city. They rode in silence for a while, and then she asked, "Collins..."

"Oh god... Now what?"

Vivian punched his shoulder. "Does the city feel funny?"

Rubbing his shoulder, Nick looked around at the stoplight. "Empty. I mean, it's November, but ... It's lifeless"

Lifeless. That was a great description. Vivian scowled at the city around them. "School's in session. There should be that vibe, right?"

"You're not wrong, Peck," he agreed.

They drove in silence, trying to figure out the reason the city felt so strange, when the radio squawked at them. "1504. Report of shots fired at Rodgers Private Elementary."

"Copy that," replied Vivian. "Five out." She eyed Nick. "No backup?"

"Must not be a serious report," Nick said and shrugged. The car slowed as they reached the small school. It was dark and seemingly empty. "Is it a holiday I don't know about?"

"No." She pulled her phone out to check. "Oh. Apparently its founders day for the place." Showing him the webpage, her skin crawled. Nick seemed to share the feeling and parked the cruiser.

He got out. "Dispatch, 9957 and 4727 on foot at Rodgers Private Elementary."

The now familiar voice of dispatch Tassie replied. "9957, Dispatch. Copy."

Vivian flipped her camera on and muttered her badge and location. "Do you see something?"

"I do not," replied Nick. Which meant he felt something wrong in the air. They both put a hand by their guns, feeling the tension. "Gate's not locked." He pushed it open.

Together they walked around the schoolyard, checking the doors and exteriors. Just as Vivian was considering saying they'd made it all up in their heads, the gym door burst open and a man plowed into her, sending her flying to the cement.

The sunglasses managed to stay on her face. Five years of parkour practice kicked in. Vivian rolled, popped back onto feet, and took off after the man. She was faster than Nick, sprinting dead out while she heard her TO call in that she was in pursuit.

"Damn it, stop! Police!" She shouted at him, but the man kept running. His bad luck to be set against the holder of the fastest time on the obstacle course for their class at the academy. Vivian was gaining on him.

He skidded as he rounded a corner, hand touching the ground. "Run," he shouted. "Coppers!"

Well hell. Vivian slapped her radio. "Collins! He's got friends!"

"Copy! Peck, wait for me."

It was a bit late. She rounded the corner and saw the last thing she wanted to see. Men with guns.

When she told Gail about it later, she admitted she had absolutely no idea how she'd done it. Gail told her to not, under any circumstances, tell Holly that. But in that moment, five guys in the colors of Anton Hill's gang with guns in their hands, gave her the ability to launch herself backwards and behind a corner.

She scraped her elbow as she landed, awkwardly as fuck, grateful for the winter jackets they wore. Now the glasses flew off her face and shattered on the cement. "4727. 10-33! Five armed!" Vivian had to let go of her radio, shoes scrambling for purchase, fingers clawing the cement, as she threw herself out of the line of site. Some small part of her brain heard the gate smash (the back gate, not the one they'd come in through) and cars race off.

"Peck!" Nick, God bless the man, was running full tilt. "Where'd they get you?!"

"What?!" Vivian stared at Nick as he grabbed her upper arms. "Get me? What? I fell!"

Nick's eyes were wide. Wild. Panicked. "The blood..."

They both turned to look at the blood. It wasn't on her. She was near it, but not in it. Thank god. Holly never would have let her hear the end of that. "I'm okay, Nick, I'm okay." Vivian let him help her to her feet though. "I think I broke your sunglasses."

Looking down, Nick saw the lenses. "They had a good run," he muttered. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay..." She rubbed her elbow. "Are they gone?"

"Looks like we came at the end of a hit," he decided. They carefully navigated their way to the scene, following the blood trail to a dead man. "I'll call it in, you stay here."

Vivian nodded, letting the cool air help calm her racing heart. She needed to tell the ETF twits thank you. Half listening to Nick call in the situation, she studied the scene. Bullet holes were nowhere to be found. There was blood in a trail, though, which they'd founded ended in a man shot once in the knee and once in the head. Twice in the head, she corrected. Double tap, execution style. Awesome.

There was a rustle from the side. The bushes. They backed a wall, though, so there was nowhere to go.

Vivian pivoted, gun out. "Collins," she said in a low voice.

In a heartbeat, Nick was beside her, gun drawn. "Police," he said firmly. "Come out with your hands up."

There was a second rustle. Then a small head popped up. Jesus Christ. Vivian put her gun away first. "Whoa, whoa, you're okay," she said, holding her hands up to show they were empty.

The child was filthy. Gender undetermined, it was under ten based on size. "I didn't do it," said the child in a tremulous voice.

Vivian couldn't help the smile. "We believe you." The child's eyes were locked on Nick, though, wide and doubtful. Glancing back, Vivian saw Nick still had his gun out. "He's just making sure no one else is going to come shoot at us," she said, trying to pitch her tone to get Nick to step back.

He hesitated but finally did. "I'm going to secure the scene," he said. "You got this, Peck?"

For Christ's sake, it was a kid. "Yes, sir," she replied. As Nick left, the child barely moved. "What's your name?" The child shook it's head. Right. "My name's Vivian."

"That's an old lady name."

"Not real popular, I know," she smiled. The kid sat down, dropping out of sight. "Hey, hey, kid, look, you know you're safe with us."

"Not."

Vivian moved towards the shrubbery. "Not?"

"No. Not."

God, kids were annoying sometimes. "Well. Can't help 'not' can I?" The kid shook it's head and hunkered down. Yeah. It was going to be like this. "So. How about I tell you about yesterday?" She caught a pair of blue eyes looking confused. "Yesterday I had a big test. Big test."

"You have tests?"

"Sure do. I'm a new cop. I have tests all the time. Driving tests, obstacle course, paper tests. All sorts of things. Sucks." The kid smiled a little. "Me and my best friend, we were the only ones who passed this test, first time out."

"Was it hard?"

"Sure was. All our tests are hard."

"I hate school."

"Me too. I flunked a class once, on purpose, and got in so much trouble." There was a soft scuff behind her and Vivian glanced at Nick. Impatient. "So. Do you have an old person's name?"

The child's head shook. Then nodded. Then shook again. "Skip," came the whispered name. Still could be gender androgynous, realized Vivian. Awesome.

"Skip's cool. Skip can be a boy or a girl name. Vivian's kind of only for girls." She jerked her thumb at Nick. "His name's Nick. Could go either way."

"Girls aren't named Nick," sneered the child. The boy. Definitely a boy.

"Nikki is a girl's name," she corrected. The boy scowled. "Look, Skip. A whole mess of cops are going to show up here. Cops and scientists. They're going to want to look at everything. I think you'd feel better if you came back with us, me and Nick, to the station to talk about all this. Okay?"

He hesitated. "What if I don't want to talk?"

"I can't make you," admitted Vivian. "But. If you do talk to us, we can help."

Slowly Skip stood up. His clothes were relatively clean, it had only been his face that was filthy. Vivian didn't see any blood on the kid. That was good. "Okay," he said, and stepped out from the bushes.

Nick reached over and Skip flinched. The police officers shared a look. "Okay," mused Nick. "Skip, you don't have any ... You don't have any blood on you, do you?" The small head shook. No. "Okay then. You, my man, get to ride in the back of the cruiser."

Fixing Nick with a droll look too old for his years, Skip walked with them to the patrol car, just as backup and the lab showed up. They let him climb in and Vivian stood by the door, rather then just locking him in like a criminal. Nick left them there while he talked to the other officers and then came back. "Okay, Peck. Let's roll. I'll call Inspector Peck when we get there."

Vivian arched her eyebrows. "Seriously?"

Skip frowned. "Another Peck?"

"There are a million," sighed Vivian but she knew he was planning for Gail to show up. "It's her day off, Nicholas," she warned him.

"Yeah, I know." They got in the front of the car and buckled up.

The ride to the station was more silent and tense than Vivian would have liked. She understood the goal was probably to get Gail in to talk with the kid, since Gail was notably great with kids. And Nick... For someone who'd killed people, who'd seen death, he was pretty dismissive and impatient with Skip.

For someone who'd been in the system, he didn't feel sympathetic. Nick probably never dealt with his shit. Had Vivian? It was hard to tell from inside. Nick had been older, though. Almost a teenager. That had made the difference in their ability to empathize with Skip, but neither had really sorted through their crap.

Once, when she was eight or so, around the time Chris died, she'd mentioned that to Gail. Her mother pointed out that some people dealt with their pain and some people didn't. Nick had been running from his for years and probably still was.

Instead of taking Skip to interrogation, Vivian gestured for him to sit at her desk while Nick talked on the phone. "He's weird," announced Skip.

"He is," Vivian agreed. "Hungry? Thirsty? We can order pizza." Skip's eyes lit up and Vivian grinned. "Right. There's a killer pizza they make down the road. Trust me here, kid, we want plain cheese." Vivian dialed in the order.

Lara was more than happy to pick up the pizza in exchange for a slice, leaving Vivian alone with Skip. Apparently getting a hold of Gail was proving harder than Nick had hoped.

Propping her feet up on the desk, Vivian asked, "So I'm right about the pizza, yeah?"

"S'good," agreed the kid. "Better than the stuff Antony gets me." His face closed up suddenly. Pain.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "About Antony. That was him, right?" Skip nodded. "Was he your brother?"

Skip shook his head. "Last ... The last home we were in, he was my big brother."

Oh. Vivian knew that feeling. But that meant Antony was younger than he looked. Or maybe he was from a while ago. "He wasn't in the home anymore?"

"No. He ran away." Skip munched the pizza.

"Did you?" The boy shook his head. "Do you know who shot him?" The boy nodded. "We do too," she said quietly.

"Are they gonna try to kill me?"

"Depends what you saw," she admitted. There was no point in lying to a kid who'd just seen someone die. "You want to tell me?"

Shaking his head, Skip took another piece of pizza. "I didn't see anything."

Okay. Vivian sighed and looked up. "Well. How about why were you there?'

"Why were you there," countered the boy.

She smiled. "Someone reported shots fired," Vivian said softly. "We came to see if we could help."

"That's stupid." Skip was derisive. "They coulda shot you too."

"I know. I saw them, with their guns. Chased one guy and ran right into them."

The boy's eyes went wide. "Were you scared?" She nodded. "But... Why?"

Vivian tilted her head. "Because of you and Antony," she told him. "Because what if there was someone like you, and you needed help. Because people like Antony shouldn't die. That's my job."

Skip's face clearly said she had a crazy as fuck job. "You saw them? The ... Hills?"

She nodded at him. "I did." She held up her elbow for him to inspect. "See? Got that through my jacket. I jumped so fast, I coulda won the Olympics." The boy smiled at that.

"You wouldn't wanna save Antony. He was doing bad things."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Drug running. That's how come he had to run away. They found out."

They could look for a teenager named Antony in the same home as a younger boy named Skip. The cross reference would probably take minutes. "For the Hill guys?"

Skip nodded and then shook his head. "For them and Spikes."

"Spikes? Who does Spikes work for?"

"Three Rivers."

There was a cough behind them. Vivian looked up and saw her mother. No. She saw Detective Inspector Peck. "Honestly, Nicholas. Looks like your rookie has it under control." But Gail walked around the railing and came up beside her. "Hello, Skip."

Skip eyed Gail and said to Vivian, "She looks okay."

"She is," promised Vivian. "Skip, this is ... This is Gail. She's one of the best detectives."

Pursing her lips, Gail smiled. "Thank you," she said to Vivian. "So. Skip." Gail sat on the desk and picked up a piece of the pizza. "Did the Hill gang know about your brother double dipping?"

When Skip looked confused, Vivian explained, "She means did they know he was working for both of them."

"He didn't think Hill did. Spikes knew and told him to keep in quiet."

Tilting her head, Gail asked, "Spikes I don't know. Who's he?"

"Her. That's not her real name. I'm not supposed to know her real name, but Antony told me." He shredded his napkin. "Veronica."

Gail's eyes widened for a moment. "Veronica." She put the pizza down and pulled out her phone. "This her?"

Skip blinked and nodded. "Yeah! How'd you do that?"

"Because I, Skip, am totally awesome." Gail beamed. "Peck, I'm going have to steal this one. But you did good."

"Thank you, ma'am," she smiled at her mother.

Wrinkling her nose, Gail gestured. "Epstein needs you rooks in his office." She moved her hands, signing that she was sorry but she'd have to miss it.

Vivian signed back an okay. "Yes, ma'am," she nodded. "Skip, you can tell her everything, okay? I promise." Giving her mother a nod, Vivian fixed her tie and walked around to Dov's office where Gerald was keeping watch.

"You're late, Peck." Gerald didn't sound like he was joking.

"Sorry, sir. I was handing a case over to OC." She glanced to where Dov and Noelle were talking and then the long bench where the other rookies sat and looked nervous.

Dov caught sight of her "Peck! Sit down."

Noelle walked out of the office, smiling at all the rookies. "Aronson. You're first." And she vanished up the stairs.

With a smile, Vivian squeezed in between Rich and Lara, assuming alphabetical order like everything else. "Jenny, go," hissed Lara. As they watched their classmate step into Dov's office, Lara asked. "Why were you late? He made us wait for you!"

Down below, Gail was talking quietly with Skip, who was smiling at her. "See the kid? We found him. Witness to a gang shooting." They were all a little impressed. Christian though asked what happened to her arm. "Oh, I wiped out."

"Queen of the gym wiped out?" Rich's smiled a near sneer.

"That's really unattractive," Lara told him.

Duncan coughed. "Guys? Shut up."

They fell silent and waited. Gail had told her what to expect. Andy had as well. Oliver had promised she'd be fine. Holly had told her about the oral exams doctors had to take, since they had a lot of talking, and how it confirmed her desire to not be a people doctor. Thinking about that, her awkward doctor mom, made her feel better.

Jenny came back out with a look of shell shock. "Um, Christian. It's you." She fought the smile on her face but flashed a thumbs up to Lara.

Not too long after, Christian came out, the grin damn well plastered on. "Rich." Vivian held a hand up and Christian slapped it with the hardest of high fives. Was there a doubt? None of them had reason to doubt.

When Rich came out, looking serious, he said "Volk."

Lara blinked. "P comes before-"

"He said Volk," Rich said firmly. His face was grim and set. No. Serious. As if everything had come to roost at last. This was all real for him now. Rich gave Vivian a curious look as he walked down to the Parade room.

"Waiting ain't so bad," said Gerald. Duncan. Fuck it, Gerald.

She knew he'd been held back. Twice. "Do you regret it? The thing with McNally?"

Blinking at her, the man nodded. "I do. I was tryin' too hard and I fucked it up. I wasn't ready." Tilting his head at her, Gerald asked, "You think you are?"

Vivian sighed. "Maybe?"

The door opened and Lara walked out, smothering a smile. "Peck."

Time to go. Vivian walked into Dov's office. She remembered when it had been Oliver's. "Sir."

"Sit," he said with a blank expression. Unreadable. "You know, you're the only one with parents still in blue."

She nodded. Jenny's father had retired, such as it was, and the rest of the Terzakis clan was all uncles and cousins. Chris was dead. But she, unlike the rest, saw the job every day in Gail. "Yes, sir," she said quietly.

"I have this." Dov held up the report. "It says a lot about you. Mostly from Nick. Andy too, though. Duncan... It's impossible to find a TO who doesn't know you. Who hasn't known you most of your life."

Again, Vivian nodded. "Yes, sir."

"That's the problem, you know. We all know you. We've known you forever and we watched you grow up. This... This is growing up too." Dov sighed and dropped the papers. "Why did you take Peck?"

She blinked. "Because... A lot of reasons." None of the reasons were ones she wanted to tell Dov though. "Because it mattered."

"You didn't expect the easy road?"

Oh, that. "No, no sir," she sighed a little. "It wasn't that." The easy road would have been to be Vivian Peck Stewart. But she didn't really want to explain all of her reasons to Dov, who didn't know everything. "It's complicated. But it's not that. Never was ... I see the job, sir. I know the price we pay because of what we do. I... I know about the divorce rate and I know why. I know we die." She cleared her throat. "I wanted this. Want this."

Dov sighed and leaned back. "You know that the uniform doesn't make you a Peck."

"No, no it doesn't. But I do." When Dov's eyes widened, she added, "I'm a Peck. It's like ... Waking up and figuring out that was who you always were, you just didn't have a name for it. I do. I'm a Peck. And I'm in uniform. I'm- I want to be what the Pecks should be. In blue."

He looked thoughtful. "You know why you went last, right?" Vivian shook her head. "Because you wouldn't panic, waiting out there. You are calm under pressure."

Vivian snorted a laugh. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. Cool in a crisis. You do the right thing and you think about it later. Which is ... That's what I worry about with you, Peck."

Biting her lower lip, Vivian said, "I can't not think about it."

"There's thinking and there's dwelling. Don't dwell. It only gets harder from here on out." He smiled at her. "You know you passed, right? I mean, Duncan passed, and most of you are better coppers than he still is."

Relief flooded her system. "I passed?"

And Dov laughed. "You know, half the time I see Gail in there. Or Holly. Which is weird. But then I see you. You had a messy year, kid."

Vivian sighed. "I didn't expect anything else."

"You're going to be a Peck in a different way," he told her, and stood up, extending a hand.

Scrambling to her feet, Vivian took the hand. "Thank you... Thank you, sir."

"Good. Go get to Parade and then we have to let your mom kick our asses."

It was a blur, walking to the Parade room. Vivian wasn't sure if she was smiling or not, but realized it had to be 'not' since Lara asked. "So?"

"Oh! Yes," she nodded. "Everyone?" Everyone had passed.

"It's official," smiled Christian. "We're all part of the family now."

McNally shouted at them as Dov and Noelle walked in. "Rookies! Line 'em up"

Their sergeant, her Uncle Dov, handed out scissors to the TOs, as Noelle took a long look at them. "So. I know you kids think you know everything. You don't. And that's okay. This is not a graduation, this is your next step. This is recognition of the work you've put in. The worth we've seen in you. And this is the start of the rest of your career." Noelle's eyes stopped on Vivian for a moment. "Today you are no longer probationary officers. You're still rookies, don't forget that for a minute. But." She waved a hand. "Epstein?"

Nodding, Dov picked up the thread. "You have proven yourselves to be loyal," Dov's eyes landed on Christian. "Dedicated." He looked at Jenny. "Resourceful." That was Lara. "Capable," he said to Rich. And then Dov looked at Vivian. "Courageous." Her eyes widened at him and she fought the smile. "So. It is with great pleasure that I cut you loose today." Dov stepped out of the way. "And in the tradition of Fifteen Division, TOs. Ready? Coppers, cut those ties."

There were hoots as Andy, Duncan, and the rest of the TOs stepped up to cut ties. "So." Nick held up his scissors. "You ready for this?"

"All my life, sir," she smiled.

Nick smiled back and cut her tie, handing it to her. "Keep that," he said softly. "You did good today, Viv. I'm really proud of you."

In so many ways, she was a child of all of them. Nick and Andy, no children and never married, treated her like their niece. So did Dov and Chloe. So did Traci, Steve, Oliver, and even Gerald. She'd grown up under their wings. They'd guarded and guided her every step of the way. And now they were letting her fly.

"That means a lot, Nick," she said softly, gripping the end of her tie. Vivian hesitated and looked at the others. They were hugging and cheering. Christian was hugging Gerald for crying out loud! She stepped in and hugged him. "Thanks, Uncle Nick," Vivian whispered, and moved back.

Nick's eyes were wide. He wasn't able to even try to hug her back. "Well. Congratulations," he managed.

Luckily, Steve cut in, throwing an arm around Nick's shoulders. "My niece," Steve sang out. "How's it feel, baby Peck?"

"Feels real," Vivian smiled.

The clear voice of Dov rang through the room. "Ladies and gentlemen. I give you the new and improved rookies of Fifteen."

She found her wife on the phone in the hallway. "Well, I'm asking now," sighed Gail. "You know you owe me this much." Gail's head was down, concentrating entirely on the phone. "It's not... It's not for me, it's for Viv," she insisted.

Holly tapped her watch, sending Gail a heartbeat. The blonde's eyes popped up and landed on Holly, immediately followed by a smile. The conversation on the phone ended quickly after that. "Everything okay?"

"Yep," smiled Gail, taking a hold of Holly's waist. "You missed mommy/daughter time."

"You missed our kid being cut loose."

Gail squinted. "She knows why. See aforementioned mommy/daughter time. We worked a case of a gang shooting and a kid witness."

She'd known Gail too long. "Did you bully Anne into helping?"

"Oh, no. She came right away when I called. That was the judge." Gail eyed Holly. "Why do you have a gun?"

And Gail knew her too well. "Damn it, Peck. It's in a box, wrapped, in a bag! How do you know?"

Grinning, Gail picked the bag out of Holly's hand. "You hate holding guns. Even in bags, wrapped in a box, sweetheart. It shows." Gail's eyes went wide. "It's light... Did you get me a new pocket pistol?"

"Nope, nope, not telling." Holly crossed her arms and scowled.

"You have zero poker face," teased Gail. "You know you don't have to come to the range."

Holly's smile was the lopsided one she'd been embarrassed about as a kid. Goofy Holly Stewart with her sideways smile and the glasses and the knock knees. "I know. But you like it. And I love seeing you so happy." She leaned in and kissed Gail again.

"That's alright then." Gail's phone rang and she sighed. "I swear if this isn't a warrant..."

"Go." Holly shoved Gail gently. Stealing one last kiss, Gail took the call and fell back into work mode.

Holly took the bag back and went down to see the celebration. She spotted her troublesome daughter smiling at something Christian was saying. Holly lifted a hand and Vivian clapped Christian's shoulder before coming over.

The girl held up her severed tie. "Did you see?"

"I missed it. Not that there was a doubt in my mind, honey, but I thought this was next month or later."

"Yeah, they rushed us a little," Vivian sighed. "Do you have an extra tag or a box?"

Holly blinked. "For ... What?"

Blushing, Vivian gestured at the tie end clipped to her collar. "I want to give it to Mom."

"She'll love it," smiled Holly. "I'll find you something. Are you ready to go?"

Vivian looked back at the group. "I will be in a minute. I need to .. Do a thing first."

Holly watched Vivian head back over to the group and then disappear into a room. Her kid had made the next step. "I wonder if it's harder because she's here," mused Noelle, coming up beside her. "Maybe it would have been easier for us all if we'd stuck her with Swarek or Anderson."

With a loud sigh, Holly shook her head. "You know, I have no idea. How's Olivia doing?"

"Good, good. Sophie's moved back in, though. Just when I thought I was getting an empty nest." Noelle smiled. "At least I have more free time."

So it was true. "When?"

"January. Your Pecks didn't say?"

Pecks. Plural. Her Pecks. Which meant Vivian had known before Gail mentioned it. "No, but you know how they get about people's private lives."

Noelle rolled her eyes. "True. Gossip is not their style."

"Anathema to their very souls," smiled Holly. "Except Steve. Does that have anything to do with why you cut these guys loose early? It's usually a whole year."

Instead of a bluster about how they were ready, Noelle looked sad. "Enrollment is at an all time low. There aren't enough to have a class until summer, if we're lucky. We need them to be ready faster."

Which did not necessarily mean they were ready now. "Thank you for making me feel better." Holly knew she sounded insincere and bitter. But. That was her daughter being needed to be ready faster. Too fast.

"Hey," sighed Noelle. "You know I wouldn't let it happen if I didn't think they could do it. We're not talking about Duncan here."

They both looked over at Duncan, dancing and making the rookies laugh. "Gail says he's really good with junkies. Like... Disturbingly good."

Noelle nodded. "It's weird. He never told anyone why, but he is." She turned to study Holly's face. "She's ready for what's next, Holly. You know that."

Nodding back, Holly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know. It... It scares me more than knowing Gail's out there. Gail... She knows what to do, Noelle. This ... Do they always look so young and vulnerable?"

The other woman nodded. "They do. They really do. Gullible, naive, hopeful, trusting... Even Gail did back then. But they have this faith. And we have to have it in them." Noelle turned around, leaning her back against the railing. "Just wait'll we make her be a hooker."

Holly snorted a laugh out her nose.

Okay. That did help. A little.

Vivian held the severed end of her tie and studied it for a moment. She was still a rookie. That wasn't a question. And this validation felt less than it might because she knew things the others didn't. But the revelry of the others around her was, a little, infectious.

"Hey, why so serious?" Rich threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Richard. You have two seconds before I break your arm."

He snatched it back like he been burned. "Damn, Peck. Cutting loose is supposed to be a fun day! We're going to the Penny to party!"

Vivian shoved the tie in her pocket. "I'll meet you guys there. I just have a couple things to do first." Rich opened his mouth. "Dude, Rich. I promise."

He started to object and Lara cut in. "You're going to check on that kid?"

"Yeah, I am. And then I've got a thing, but I swear, I'll be at the Penny."

"Shoo," grinned Lara. "I'll keep dumb and dumber here outta your hair."

"Thanks." As Vivian headed down the hall, she heard Lara explain to Rich that he was both dumb and dumber. She found young Skip, sitting on a chair, holding a bag. Social Services was with him. Anne was with him.

The social worker, her social worker, was her mothers' age. Somewhere between the two, Anne had grey hair and laugh lines and Vivian had always liked her. They'd all gone to her wedding. She wasn't a constant friend like Dov or Lisa, but she was always welcome when she showed up. "Vivian- Officer Peck." Anne smile, her eyes lighting up.

"Hey, Anne," she replied, trying to set the tone. "You've got Skip?"

"Hmm. Gail called in a favor," Anne admitted. They both looked at Skip, hugging the bag close. And Anne frowned at Vivian. "Is something wrong?"

Vivian scratched the back of her head. "No. No, just... Do you mind? I just... before he goes." She waved her other hand. "Skip. Do you mind? I wanted to talk. Before Anne takes you off."

The boy shrugged and Anne stood up. "I can't think of anyone better. I'm going to go get some coffee and say hello to Sgt. Epstein."

As Anne left, Vivian sat down and leaned back with a loud sigh. She struggled to find the words to start with.

"My least favorite part was this," Vivian finally said. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Skip's confused look. "The bag, the chair, the waiting. And then, you know, Anne's okay, but she was never there, in that seat. She's always been in this one." Vivian sucked on her lower lip. "This is the first time I've been in this seat."

Skip was skeptical. "You're a baby cop."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Not so much now. They cut me loose."

"Is that why your tie is messed up?"

She smiled. "It is. The tie is a symbol of what changed." She looked at Skip. "A lot about me has changed. But I still remember... I remember that seat." Vivian pointed at Skip. "I hated that seat. Holding everything in a bag, wondering if you were going to a temporary place or a permanent one. Wondering if it would suck. If they were mean or scary or ..." She trailed off.

The boy's eyes were wide. "How long?"

"Not that long. Half a year." She stretched her legs out. "I was really lucky. They put me in a home without any other kids. It wasn't supposed to be permanent. Except then it was. And Anne, that lady who's helping you today? She did that."

Skip hugged his bag. "She said I'm gonna have to leave Toronto."

He'd seen the murder. It was probably safer. "Are you scared?" He nodded. "I was too. I'm scared a lot. But today, when they cut me loose, they said I was courageous."

"How can you be scared and brave?"

"I'm brave because I'm scared," she said quietly. "I don't let the being scared stop me from doing the right things and being the best person I can." Exhaling loudly, she added, "It's hard. But I keep doing it."

Skip frowned. "I can't be that brave."

"Not alone," she said. "But. What if I was with you?"

He looked up. "You can't come with me." He knew.

And he was right. Vivian pulled the tie end out of her pocket. "This tie, this reminded me that every time I got scared, there were other coppers out there to help me. People who watched out for me." She pulled the clip-on end off her shirt. "This end... This I'm giving to my Mom."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah. You met her," smiled Vivian. "Gail adopted me when I was a little older than you. And today's her birthday. So ... I want her to know how much I love her, and how much she means to me."

Skip looked skeptical. "I don't have a Gail."

She held out the tail end of her tie to Skip. "No. But every time you get scared, you can look at this and remember that there are people who are there for you."

The boy took the tie. "Do you have a dad? Won't he want the other half?"

Vivian blinked. A dad? Sometimes kids were so heteronormative. "Don't worry, they'll understand when I tell 'em why I gave you that." Now was not the time to get into semantics or how Vivian had two mommies. It didn't matter to him anyway.

They sat in silence for a little while, until Anne came back. "Vivian..."

She knew. It was time for Skip to go. "Be brave out there," she told him, standing up. "Even when you're scared."

He nodded and Vivian got up, leaving him and hoping... trusting it would work out for him.

She hated to admit it, but it was a fun birthday party.

Since she was ten, Gail had done her best to avoid her own birthday parties, going so far as to not actually tell people the date. Of course every police officer knew, and of course her wife and kid knew. But they all also knew she didn't want to have a 'thing' done for her.

Except she kind of did now, and it was probably Holly's fault. She hated the being happy and the fake attention. But … fakers and liars had slowly worked their way out of her life, and the people who were left were good people.

Holly, who blessedly did not attempt to sing karaoke, was laughing at the scoreboard the rookies had pinned up to the wall in the Penny. A sheepish Vivian was pointing out her own name and scores while an earnest Christian all but jumped up and down to gesture at things. The other kids were cheerful. She couldn't blame Dov for cutting them loose today, and she didn't really mind that it ran into her birthday party. They were all happy and wanted to sing and laugh and it took a little pressure off Gail to be happy just for her own sake.

"Whatcha holding, Garbage Pail?" Her brother sat down with a glass of Jim Bean for her.

Looking at her hand, Gail smiled. "A tie." She held it up for him and Steve's eyes widened. Vivian had put a quick tag on it, saying 'Happy Birthday' and presenting it to Gail as they left the range.

Taking the tie, Steve turned it over in his hands. "I am officially old," he sighed. "How is your kid a cop?"

"I have a lot of sympathy for our parents now," admitted Gail, taking the tie back and smiling. "Nick cut it off. Which I missed because I was helping my idiot brother with that other case." Steve winced a little, but Gail went on. "It's going to be a problem, you know."

He nodded. "Oh I know." Steve swirled his drink and sipped it. "They're going to shoot it out at this rate. The gun trade's hitting a high note."

She knew. She'd read the report too. Gail sighed. "They're good kids, Steve."

"They're idiots, Gail. They have no idea how bad things are. They could die." Steve paused. "How are you not insane? Vivian's one of them. She might..."

It was strange, but Gail wasn't worried about that. Maybe it was having faced her own death on the job that did it. Maybe it was just a comfort of knowing her daughter wasn't just a good cop in her eyes. Everyone saw it.

"She might," agreed Gail at length, watching Vivian squirm out from under Christian's arm and shove him in the chest. "But I have to let go of the bicycle sooner or later."

Steve shook his head. "I couldn't do it. I can't... How do you not be our parents for this?"

"I wanted to put a tracker on her bike, but Holly wouldn't let me."

Her brother laughed. "You know what I mean."

She did. She knew he wore his fears closely. The terror of being a man who was too distant from his children. The pain of a man who hit his kid, or let them be hit. Steve was petrified of being Bill, or worse, Harold.

Maybe it was the fear that made Gail strive to do better. She knew how evil she could be, and every day she tried to be the person worthy of her wife and kid instead. She could be petty, venal, mean, or cruel. And yes, Gail was bitchy, sarcastic, cold, and mean spirited. She was the person who danced at other people's petty failures.

And she was the person who held her wife when she cried.

And she was the person who taught her daughter how to shoot.

And she was the person who let them laugh at her when they played sports.

"I wanted more, Steve," she said quietly. "I wanted this. With Holly and you, idiot. I wanted to feel like there's more. So ... I made more."

The older man looked at her thoughtfully. "I saw you in an incubator. How come you got so much older than me?" Steve kissed her forehead and left the table.

Moments later, someone hugged her from behind. "Dov. I will break your arm if you don't let go of me in two seconds."

The arms flew off. "Geeze, and here I thought I'd get a hug from you for passing your kid."

She snorted. "She did that on her own, and you know it, Last-place-Stein."

Dov looked wounded. "I think Andy cheated."

"McNally was bound to win one year," laughed Gail. By three points, McNally had finally, after twenty years, won the shoot-off. Nick rolled in fourth.

"She better watch out," smiled Chloe. "That kid of yours has a steady hand."

"Does better in a crisis," Dov noted. "When are you headed out?"

Gail glanced over at where Holly was, helping Traci hustle the rookies at pool. "Tomorrow morning. If I hadn't had to work today, we'd be gone already." She didn't mind really. Nick was right to call her, but for the wrong reasons. He'd called because it was a traumatized kid, and Gail was great with them. He hadn't know Vivian was great with messed up kids too. Mind, neither had Gail, but she wasn't shocked.

It turned out the kid was witness to the gang killing of a runner used by Dr. Veronica Van Lowe, aka Spikes. The doctor to the Three Rivers gang.

The granddaughter of Tomás Zanaro, Bobby Zanaro's uncle. One of three brothers.

It was so stupid it was brilliant. She'd been using kids like Antony to run drugs, bringing her samples to see which shops had been tampered with. Not that Skip actually knew all that, but the information he provided went a long way to explain it. Van Lowe was a head of the gang. Bobby Jr. was a head of the gang. Find that third one and they could sort it out.

But they didn't talk about that just yet.

The rookies were soundly loosing to Traci and Holly at pool. The older women had a nice stack of bills up to their name too, much to Gail's amusement. Deigning to slum, Gail demonstrated her talent at darts, causing Vivian to joke that if it was a weapon, Gail could do it. For her revenge, Gail asked if Vivian wanted her friends to know about her hidden talent. To her surprise, they all knew about the parkour thing.

There was no singing, not that anyone asked. The cupcakes for her birthday, brought by Oliver, were shared with the rookies. Someone still snapped a photo of how Oliver spelled out "Fifty!" with them. They kept the excitement up, after all, which was nice, and Oliver ... Well he was Oliver. He loved everyone and was loved by them in turn.

And Oliver told the rookies stories. Like how Andy arrested an undercover Swarek on her first day. Like how Traci caught a serial rapist and beat him with a bike lock. Or how Nick jumped off a pier to catch a child predator. Dov once stepped on a bomb. Steve had lost a witness and tumbled on to a smuggling ring when they found him. Chloe had busted an international car theft ring. Gail, worried about what her story would be, reminded Oliver about the time they busted a grow-op.

Not to be left out, Holly told them about the first case she worked with Fifteen. A decade old body left in the woods. A case, Traci pointed out, that turned out to be a murder by a cop. That stunned most of them, though not Vivian who just looked at her mothers with a half-smile.

"Dude, why are you grinning, Peck? That's a horrible story!" Rich, the annoying bro, looked horrified.

"Because that was when my Moms met," she shrugged.

Gail threw a napkin at her daughter. "You had to, huh?" Vivian grinned and threw the napkin back.

But Lara, the one Vivian called too perceptive, grinned too. "You know, I didn't really think you two were related until just now. But I get it, that's where your weird humor comes from."

Laughing, Holly dropped her arms around Gail's neck from behind. "Oh you have no idea. It's insanity."

"Nah, I'm serious," said Lara. "Viv's all acting like she's chill but Inspector Peck is like this whole other level of bad ass cool and indifferent."

"Insouciant," offered Holly, sounding very amused.

"Mom, that actually means indifferent." Vivian rolled her eyes.

Gail grinned and glanced over at Rich, who was trying very hard not to look nervous. She looked at Vivian, flicking her eyes to Rich, silently asking if Rich knew. When her daughter nodded, Gail grinned even more. "Richard. I understand you met my wife?"

The boy went pale enough to qualify as a Peck. "Um. Yeah- yes ma'am."

She just smiled more at him and said nothing. The boy shifted and then clammed up. Sometimes it was fun to talk to them. Sometimes it was fun to just let them stew. Rich was clearly making himself terrified enough, so Gail let it ride.

The other girl in Vivian's class, Jenny, looked thoughtful. "Wait, did everyone of you guys meet your ... Er ... Did you all meet at work?"

Oliver looked at them all. "They did. They did." He gestured with his beer. "Except mmmmmmm." Oliver stopped and pointed at Nick. "No. You did. Ah, ah. I did too. Celery, my wife, was a case. Someone accused her of being a witch and poisoning her."

Jenny's eyes went wide. "But she's not, right?"

With a laugh, Vivian replied. "Celery's totally a witch. But she didn't poison anyone."

It was nice to have the rookies as real family now, and not just Vivian. Rich put up with Duncan giving him hell for hitting on Holly, while Christian and Traci teased Jenny about her different boy a night. It went on like normal. Like they'd always been a part of Fifteen.

Vivian drove them home, having played designated driver as part of her birthday present. And then, in the morning, they left their daughter sleeping and went to the Peck cottage. November or not, winter nor not, it was their respite from the city and the crazy.

The city could deal with crazy without them for a few days. Especially now that these rookies were cut loose.

Chapter Text

The coffee bistro was cozy, which was a welcome respite from the outside world. Cold. Cold. Cold. Vivian let the heat seep in for a moment, looking around for someone who fit the bill of her blind date. At a side table was a blonde woman about her age, nervously chewing her thumbnail. Bingo.

Vivian shucked her coat. "Hi, Gwen?"

The woman looked up, her face a mixture of relief and surprise. "Yes? Oh! You must be Vivian." Getting to her feet, she held out a hand. "It's nice, nice to meet you. I didn't know what you liked. To drink I mean. So I just... Um. I didn't order anything. For you. Or me. I think they're annoyed."

Rambling. Interesting. "Mostly coffee," Vivian replied. "I'll get some. Do you...?"

"Oh! Pumpkin spice?"

It wasn't a Starbucks, but pretty much every coffee shop had a version of that now. "Sure. Be right back." Vivian left her coat on the chair and went to get the coffees.

The barista eyed her as she came up and made the order. "We had a bet her date wasn't coming."

Smiling a little, Vivian pulled out her wallet. "I was stuck at work."

"She's really nervous. First date?"

"Blind date," admitted Vivian, taking the mugs. "Thanks."

"Good luck," laughed the barista.

That was never heartening. Vivian stuck the polite smile on her face as she handed Gwen the coffee. "Here you go. Pumpkin spice."

To her surprise, Gwen frowned. "You were pretty chatty with the barista."

Vivian blinked and looked back. The barista was chatting up the next customer. "Ooookay," Vivian exhaled. "She's engaged."

"How... How do you know that?" Gwen looked surprised.

"She has a ring on, with a rock. And she was holding her hand like she wanted everyone to notice it."

Gwen stared at her. "I thought Kate was kidding..."

Kate, Lisa's erstwhile companion who still hated being called a girlfriend even though she and Lisa had lived together forever, was Gwen's boss and had set them up. At some point her aunts colluded and decided to help get their virtual niece laid. It was nice and well intentioned, though sometimes it was a bit weird. Like Gwen? Way too high strung. But she was a baby lawyer. Maybe it was to be expected. "Kidding?"

"You are a cop."

Vivian smiled. "I am. I have a badge and everything."

Tilting her head, Gwen smiled. "Do they let you bring things home?"

Warning bells went off in Vivian's head. "Some things," she said carefully and sipped the coffee.

"Do you bring them with you?"

Vivian arched both eyebrows. When she'd had registered for the academy, Gail had made a passing remark about watching out for Badge Bunnies and Holly had turned red. It wasn't like Vivian didn't know that there were hordes of people who found the badge at total turn on, and honestly she wasn't opposed to the idea. If she looked good in uniform, good for her. That Holly found Gail attractive in her uniform was also good.

Some things related to the uniform just were not appealing. And Vivian had a feeling that they were about to be going that way. "Like…?"

Gwen leaned in and said, in a quieter voice. "Handcuffs?"

Yeah. She was going to kill Kate. "Ooookay," she sighed.

"I'm just saying, my apartment's not far from here—"

"No," cut in Vivian wearily. "This date just is not going well."

Gwen looked actually surprised. "We just got here."

Taking another swing of her coffee, Vivian put it down. "We did. But I'm going to finish this festive drink and then I'm going home. Alone."

Shaking her head, Gwen pointed out, "See, I should have known not to take a date with someone blue collar."

"I'm gonna go now," decided Vivian and got up. "Thanks for the coffee."

Bewildered, the baby lawyer said, "But… you paid."

When she got home, Holly was still up watching a game on the West Coast. "Shoot me, Mom," grumbled Vivian and she fell onto the couch, dangling her feet over the arm.

Holly smirked. "Oh dear. That bad?"

"She wanted to play with my handcuffs." There was a stifled snort from her mother. "You're not helping."

"I'm sorry, honey," managed Holly, but Vivian could hear the smile in her voice.

Vivian pulled a pillow over her face. "She also called me blue collar." There was a shift of the feel of the room. Vivian peeked over and saw her mother scowling. "Uh, it's fine, Mom. That's when I walked out."

Grimacing, Holly pulled her phone out and tapped into it. "I'm going to kill Lisa, don't mind me."

"Lisa- oh." The memory hit. Lisa called Gail blue collar. Now it was a joke. Then ... "Mom, it wasn't like that at all."

"It's not okay, Vivian. You have a degree in-"

"Mom!" Vivian had to raise her voice to get Holly to stop typing, and it startled her mother. "Gwen was an idiot. Kate and Lisa didn't set me up on purpose. Not for that. She's just ... Shallow and boring and she babbled in a way that wasn't attractive."

Holly sat still for a while and then put her phone down. "I feel like I need to run to protect you all the time," she muttered.

Hugging the pillow, Vivian tilted her head to regard her mother. "You're a good Mom, Mom."

"Yeah?" She sighed loudly. "Do you remember when you first called us Moms?"

Vivian blinked. "No." She remembered calling them Miss Holly and Miss Gail. She remembered shouting that Holly wasn't her mom. She remembered blaming things on Gail. But she didn't remember when she switched from Misses to names to Moms.

"You just said it one day, before we went to see my parents for Christmas the first time? Weeks after the adoption and you didn't say it, which was fine. We really didn't care. And ... and then you just said Moms. You went upstairs to go to bed and I remember you came back and asked for 'Mom' to read you a story."

That sounded like her. Vivian looked at the smile on Holly's face, a soft smile that reminded her how much she was wanted and loved. "You do really cool voices," admitted Vivian.

Holly laughed. It was a heartwarming laugh that filled Vivian with relief and protection. It was like her smiles and hugs. She just made people feel good. And Holly was phenomenal in a crisis, when anyone had a meltdown she was there and held them. "I learned them from my dad," Holly smiled.

"Grandpa's really good at them too," Vivian agreed.

"He is. But. When you called me Mom? That was the first day my mom knew she'd raised me right."

Blinking, Vivian tried to sort that out. Grandma Lily didn't know she was a good mom, that she'd raised a good kid, until Holly was in her forties? "Well. You have twenty years to go, I guess," she finally said.

Holly's rich laugh prefaced the pillow that hit the side of Vivian's head. Vivian couldn't help but laugh too. At length, Holly sighed. "You sure you're going to be okay, home alone on Christmas?"

"Yep. Elaine and I are making lunch at Traci and Steve's, and then I'm working night so I'll open presents there after shift and sleep."

Shaking her head, Holly picked up the pillow. "Our first Christmas without you. I don't like it."

Vivian looked at her mother thoughtfully. "Mom, honest. I'll be fine. And it's good. For me."

"If you say so." Holly looked like she didn't buy it. Neither was Vivian, but it felt important in some odd way. "Tell you what, help me fix my draft picks will you? I need to kick Lily's ass."

The best thing about winter was knowing she didn't have to go out and patrol in it. Also the lack of night shifts helped keep her sleep patterns normal. Even if she was awake way too early right now. She could feel her wife awake in the bed and pressed her face a little closer.

"I don't miss my uniform," Gail mumbled into Holly's ribs, slinging her arm across her wife's waist.

Her wife laughed softly and put her tablet down with a soft clack. "Good morning."

Gail snuggled close and looked up. "What time is it?"

"Early. Go back to sleep."

Closing her eyes again, Gail sighed. "Too hot?"

"No, just woke up," admitted Holly. But she turned off her light and settled back in bed. That wasn't good. That meant Holly had either had a weird dream or she was feeling bad and didn't want to say anything.

Winter had been harder for Holly with each passing year. When they'd first figured out she was suffering from depression, the doctor had warned Gail that winter would be a bad season. The lack of sunlight might have a direct impact on Holly's moods. Might turned into 'did' pretty quickly. Now every time the daylight hours got shorter, Gail spent a little more time keeping an eye on her wife's emotional temperature.

"Hey," yawned Gail, propping herself up on one arm.

Holly sighed and patted Gail's arm. "I'm fine. Just can't sleep right."

"Mind racing?" There was a long pause before Holly nodded. Gail exhaled and reached up to caress Holly's face. That wasn't new either, though it wasn't seasonal. The medical term was 'racing thoughts' which just meant what it sounded like. Holly's thoughts were racing. There was no cure for Holly's brain running off with itself. Sometimes she just couldn't quiet things and, thus, couldn't sleep.

"Go to sleep," Holly said, a little morosely. She hated keeping Gail up.

Gail nodded and brushed the back of her fingers down the side of Holly's neck. They'd tried meditation. They'd tried medication. They'd tried exercise. None of it had really worked. "Want to do some midnight yoga?"

There was a short moment before Holly started laughing. "Yoga?"

"We haven't tried that yet," said Gail with a smile. "It can't hurt, can it?"

Holly laughed again and reached up to tug at Gail's nightgown. "Stop, just lie down."

Smiling, Gail put her head down on Holly's chest. "We could play video games."

"Gail," groaned Holly, but her voice was still amused. "Sleep."

Reaching up, Gail's fingers found Holly's face and she caressed her wife's cheek and chin. "Sleeping is considerably less fun alone," she noted.

"Yes, but I'm right here."

"Wrong resonance." Her wife laughed softly, so Gail went on. "You don't breathe right and your heartbeat is different."

Holly laughed again. "Oh really?" She shifted slightly and Gail smiled.

There was, of course, another option to zero out Holly's brain and knock her out. It didn't always work. Sometimes it ended with Holly in a paint-the-house mood. Still. It was worth a try. Gail ran her hand down the side of Holly's neck again, fingers trailing a soft touch. "Yeah," she said softly. "Really."

As she caressed Holly's neckline, her wife let go of her shirt. Excellent. Gail propped herself up and kissed the skin above Holly's shirt collar. "You are very persuasive," Holly sighed.

"Persistent." Gail smiled.

Holly laughed softly and nudged Gail up, taking her shirt off. "Better than yoga," she teased.

"You know, it's funny how much you hate yoga and love sports," replied Gail, moving to sit on Holly's hips, straddling her.

"It's not a sport." Holly's grumbling died off as Gail slowly eased her nightgown off. "Which, technically, this isn't either. I mean, I'm certainly not competing with you for who wins. A mutual, mutual win, maybe, but, um," Holly paused and bit her lower lip as her eyes roamed over Gail's naked form. "I'm definitely winning at something in life to deserve this."

There were actually many ways to stop a Stewart in full babble mode. Lily could do it to Brian by raising an eyebrow, a trick that didn't exactly work on Holly though it did on Vivian. According to Olivia, the kissing thing worked though, which was highly amusing. Gail stored that tidbit away to arm any future girlfriend Vivian brought home.

But, in theory, nudity would work on all of them. Gail had mentioned that to Lily one night when they were comparing notes on how similar Holly was to her father. Her mother-in-law had laughed and confessed that she'd done that to Brian on no few occasions. Not that Gail particularly wanted to think about her father-in-law or her daughter looking at naked people right then.

She smiled down at Holly. No, she wanted to look at one naked person, and one alone. "The objective here is to get the mind to calm down." Gail stretched her arms up over her head.

Holly's eyes widened a little, darkening as her pupils took over. "Uh, racing thoughts are ... Thoughts are gonna race when you're naked there. You're really, really, beautiful, Gail." Holly reached out with her hands, rubbing her palms on Gail's bare thighs. Her eyes bounced from Gail's face to the breasts and down to her own hands on Gail's thighs.

Teasing, Gail asked, "How can you even see anything without your glasses?" She reached down and covered Holly's hands with her own, bringing them up to her chest.

Her wife sucked in a breath. "Don't need to, um, don't need to see that to know... God." Holly caught her lower lip between her teeth again. "What was I saying?"

There really was something flattering about her reactions. To know how much Holly wanted her in that moment. To know that, after over twenty years together, Holly was still attracted to her in all the ways she'd been in the first place. They'd had a connection. From that first moment they'd met, there was something then undefinable.

She knew now. She knew that Holly was the answer to so many questions in Gail's life. The solution to the questions everyone else seemed to know. Who she was. What she was. How she was. So much was found there in the brown eyes and the smile to the side and the laughter.

Gail leaned forward, her hands on either side of Holly's head, and kissed her. "I know," she smiled.

And it did work.

Wrangling Holly back into her shirt afterwards, Gail smiled and watched her wife curl up sleepily. "Thank you," mumbled Holly, her hand limply resting on Gail's arm.

"Any time," Gail grinned and rolled over, scooting into the little spoon spot, dragging Holly's arm over her waist.

Within moments, Holly was snoring softly. Gail felt the tendrils of sleep reaching for her and smiled. She wondered if their doctor would congratulate her for finding a new and entertaining way to calm Holly's thoughts, or would she be told off for using sex as an avoidance tactic. Hard to say.

"I still think you should try yoga, though," she told the sleeping Holly. And then Gail yawned and closed her eyes, letting herself fall asleep in her wife's arms, listening to her snore. Feeling her steady, calm, heartbeat.

Resonance. It really was a thing.

Hands on her knees, Vivian hunched over and sucked in air trying to catch her breath. "I hate basketball," she wheezed.

"You okay?" Christian sounded worried, which Vivian didn't think was fair, considering how she was struggling to inhale after his elbow connected sharply with her rib cage.

She flipped him off and straightened. "Fuck, that hurt."

Christian winced. "Sorry."

"You're an asshole," Vivian told him, lifting her shirt to see if it looked like it felt. It was still red.

Leaning in, Christian pointed out, "For someone who rock climbs and jumps around like you do, you're a bit of a wimp."

She backhanded him in his chest. "Ass. Rocks don't decide to leap out and slam you in your ribs." Vivian took a deep breath. Okay. "What's the score?"

"Eight to three, me." They were playing to ten.

Vivian nodded and took the ball, bouncing it a couple times and wincing with every movement. "Foul. My ball."

Of course Christian, who was far better at basketball, won. He always won. The closest Vivian had gotten in basketball was two points behind. She'd kicked his ass at the batting cages, and was better at soccer and anything rock climbing related. They were still arguing about the elbows (plural) to the ribs as they went to Parade, though.

"I'm just saying, it was totally fair."

"Seriously, C? If that's how they teach you sportsmanship in school, then boys' athletics needs a revamp."

"Well that's true," snorted Lara. "You're lucky you're not as pale as your mom."

That was also true. Gail purpled like mad. "No kidding." She sat down with a wince. That hurt. And he'd nailed her there twice.

"Okay, folks," said Dov as he walked in. "This is the last week of school before vacation. There's ice on the road, so I want everyone to do road checks. Help unstick cars. Get involved with the community. You know the drill. Peck, saw that. You're on front desk. Everyone else, assignments are on the board. Protect, serve, keep warm." He rapped the podium and walked back out.

"Well that was brief," laughed Lara. "Have fun in desk, Peck."

"I will have fun keeping nice and warm while you freeze your nipples off."

Lara looked horrified as she read the board. "I'm with Moore?"

"Could be worse. Could be Rich." Vivian patted her shoulder and went to the front desk, settling in. She didn't mind being on desk duty. It was dull, but it was a change from being out in the cold. That had been her last two weeks. Long patrols in the snow. Welfare checks. Traffic stops.

A dull day, on a day when her ribs wanted her to fuck off, was welcome. She knew she'd be fine in a couple days, max, but still. The only downside was that she knew her family would find out shortly. The text from Holly was the one she expected.

What ' d you hurt? And when?

Yep. Because she hadn't been hurt when she left the house.

C elbowed me playing basketball because he ' s a big fat cheater.

Her mother replied with a laughing emoji. Nothing to worry about, nothing to be worried about.

As the wind picked up outside, Vivian decided she was very happy to be stuck inside for a couple days. She also figured out that she was dead wrong by the end of the first day. When no one came in, because of the weather, she spent her hours attempting to coordinate with dispatch for welfare checks, or sitting and watching nothing.

It was mid-nothing on day two that Jenny came in and put down a coffee. "Okay, how the hell do you do this gig and not want to murder people?"

"I'll let you know when I'm not arrested," sighed Vivian. "Is that for me?"

"It is. And it's an apology. I have to take over for you."

Vivian arched her eyebrows and looked Jenny up and down. "Nice boot." The other officer was wearing a removable cast. Vivian quickly got up and ceded her seat.

"Don't try ice skating," muttered Jenny.

"I used to play hockey," Vivian grinned.

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you are such a stereotype! Sports, short hair, motorcycle."

The quip came naturally. "Fleece and backpacks too!"

"All you need is a girlfriend, Peck," joked Jenny.

"You just had to go there." Vivian shook her head. The disastrous date with Gwen had included Aunt Lisa telling Kate off about picking bitches for her favorite niece. She adored her auntie Bitch Tits a lot, for many reasons, but Lisa's unflagging support of her life choices was a big reason. It was like she was still trying to make up for the fight Gail and Holly once had. "Who'm I with?"

"Christian." Jenny sighed. "I can't believe they asked me to come back to work with my foot like this."

Vivian shrugged. "We're short staffed. Still." Jenny grumbled acknowledgment and Vivian went back to the locker room to get out her vest. She took a moment to look at the inside. She hadn't yet asked her moms to write on it, but Vivian had written messages to them. The day after she was cut loose, Nick had told her to. It was her vest, not a shared one, and she had to make sure it was hers.

Vivian had chosen not to tell him that Gail's vest still had her message on it, though she noticed Andy had not written something on his. Different ways about things, apparently. Her message was simple: Everything good I learned from Moms.

Neither of her moms had seen that yet. It probably wasn't what Nick had meant, since his just had a love letter to Andy, but it felt right to Vivian. Isn't that what mattered? As she headed back out, Dov was waiting for her. "I'm really sorry to send you out," he sighed.

"Nah, I'll be fine as long as I don't try a lay up."

Dov smiled. "I meant because it's cold."

Making a face, Vivian tugged on her winter hat. "It is cold. But better than how hot summer got. I didn't think I'd ever get the smell of sweat out of my uniform."

"Gail had a weird trick for that."

"Oh god, no. Please. Holly got all scientific on her about it," groaned Vivian.

Pausing, Dov looked thoughtful. Vivian swore she could see the wheels turning in his head. "Ouch," he finally said. "Well. Be safe."

"Excellent advice, sir," she smirked, and went to the garage.

Christian was seated on the hood of 1509. Not Vivian's favorite car, but not the worst. She, like Gail, was convinced that 1504 was cursed. "Hey, Viv. You sure you're okay?"

"Better than Jenny's ankle. How bad is it?"

"Well. She rolled it on our first stop," he smirked. "I'm driving."

Waving a hand to 'whatever' that away, Vivian got in the passenger seat. "Anything interesting?"

Her friend smirked. "We were getting coffee."

Vivian smirked back. "Oh. We are so going to give her shit for that." She and Christian fist bumped. "So how boring is it out there?"

"BAF," sighed Christian. Boring as fuck. "No one wants to do crime. It's too cold."

"Did you ever hear what Oliver said? The boring days are the ones where we know we did our job right."

Christian laughed softly. "Well then we're doing it right."

It was officially too cold, Holly decided. Either it was getting colder and global warming was a lie, or she was getting older and less able to deal with the weather. She did not plan on voicing this thought to her wife, who no doubt would make a joke about getting old. The point was, after all, that it was cold.

"Welcome back, boss," smiled Ruth, her new receptionist/assistant. "You look freezing."

"I should have driven," Holly lamented. She'd walked down the street to her meeting, thinking that getting outside would do her good.

"I'll make you some fresh tea."

Holly exhaled loudly. "You are totally welcome to keep sucking up like that."

Her old front desk person, Katie, had married and moved to Manitoba to be with family. Ruth had been there for half a year, and Holly was thrilled with how she was working out. And not just because of the tea. Holly hung up her coat and stood in front of the heat vent, letting it warm her up.

In no time at all, Ruth came back with fresh tea. "Here you go. Nothing happened while you were out, except an Amber Alert. Rodney pushed it to the front of the queue."

Nodding, Holly sat on her couch. "Good. Do they think it's an abduction?"

"Seven year old went missing from school." Ruth shrugged and pulled up the information on a tablet.

The evidence for them to process was scant. At recess, the kids went outside to have a snowball fight. When it was over, the teachers noticed little Gabe Rodriguez was missing. Rodney had sent a crew over to try and find trace, but in the snow, after a bunch of kids had a fight, the odds were slim. The report was from Andy, which was good. She knew about kids and kidnappings more personally that most.

Holly wondered how Christian felt about that. When Vivian's past had come back to haunt her, it had messed her kid up a little. Christian didn't really have the same kind of support that Vivian did. Hell, he barely had a parent. His father had gone to jail a second time for domestic assault when Christian was eight, and Gail, Dov, and Oliver had made sure he was never going to see the boy again.

That was something heavy to carry. Holly couldn't imagine the weight kids like Christian and Vivian had to bear. Once Gail had mentioned that Chris had been forced to grow up too soon. It was months and months after his death. They'd been sitting outside watching Vivian playing on her new jungle gym. In retrospect, Holly should have seen the fascination with things like parkour.

Sitting side by side, Gail told her about how Chris had wanted to rescue a puppy, and that was the day she learned about his mother. Tina Diaz was crazy, with a bunch of rules. She was always punishing Chris. Once, when he was ten, he spilled a box of spaghetti, and Tina apparently made him stand on a chair for three hours. Her husband, Chris' stepfather, Ryan Miller, had called social services and been kicked out.

Ryan and Tina had both come to Chris's funeral.

It had all left so much pain in Chris, which even Gail had noticed. Her demented upbringing aside, Gail knew that there was some love. The fact that her mother had come back for her, that Elaine had fought for her in the end, gave Gail a sense of comfort and relief.

Chris had died without really feeling that.

Christian was living without it either. The man he thought of as his father was dead before he'd done more than made a good impression on the boy. Though at least Christian had friends like Vivian. And he had people like herself who were there when he needed them.

Pulling herself out of the cloud of memory, Holly read over the case notes. Gabe Rodriguez was the youngest of four, three sisters and him, and their father was divorced. According to the notes, none of them had seen the mother in years. There was already a BOLO out on the mother, just in case.

There was no reason Holly could reason for the mother to kidnap her own son, but then again, you couldn't apply reason to parents. Parents did the most unreasonable things out of love. The older she got, the longer she was a parent, the more what Elaine did made sense. The older she got, the more the things she'd thought of as crazy and selfish were actually selfless. Still crazy, though. Like how Gail barely slept when Vivian had gone out to Montréal for a long weekend, or how the cop had panicked every time there was a potential sleepover or camp out.

Holly trusted their kid to test her limits and ask for help when she needed it. Gail did too, but she also expected the bullheadedness of a child and young adult out of her. Because they'd raised a child who came to them as a miniature adult into a thinking person. A good person. A person who could be reckless and a bit of a thrill seeker.

Maybe Vivian liked doing the athletic dangerous things because of her self-imposed limitation. That had been Holly's theory for years, that it was the safest outlet Vivian could find. And now her kid was a cop, out there protecting other kids from being her. Because that was the kind of person she was. That was the person they'd raised her to be.

"Ruth, if they call in needing a pathologist, I'll take it."

Children were hard on everyone. It didn't seem fair to fob it off on other people. It had taken Holly years to be comfortable doing the autopsy of a child. After they adopted Vivian, it had started to get easier for much the same reason as why she did this job in the first place. Holly could make the lives of the parents easier, give them closure and peace. And that was what she, as a mother, would want.

At least she knew the area from her somewhat covert scouting. Vivian sighed and carefully walked out on the snowbank.

"If you fall, Viv, I'm gonna tease you forever."

Vivian looked back at Christian. "I won't fall," she told him. "Someone's been here."

"You can't know that, Peck." Christian was sounding dismissive. He always called her Peck when he was annoyed by her. "You're not Bear Grylls." She paused at the top of the snowbank and looked around. "You know, this is miles from his school."

She glanced back. "Wait in the car, if you want," she bit off at him. Vivian rubbed her hands together and took a deep breath. She could feel the slight twinge from where C had elbowed her. Holly had given it a good look and informed her she'd just had a winner of a bruise.

Down the hill below her, Christian grumbled.

Vivian stared at the snow. She had a working theory. It really wasn't much of a theory. In fact, it was a really simple theory. Christian had been kidnapped as a toddler by his biological father, whom he'd known as his soccer coach. Kids went off with people they trusted. Kids weren't stupid. They were just naive. So who would be able to convince a kid to go with them someplace? To ditch school.

They'd ruled out the father, they were hunting down the mother, the school was being cleared. So what was left? She'd floated the idea off Dov when they'd headed out for patrol that morning. Why not check the things the kid did outside of school.

Of course, the baseball field was under an absurd amount of snow for this time of year. "Stupid global warming," she grumbled.

"Shouldn't it be, I dunno, warmer?" Christian went on. "Besides, we stopped that years ago. Woo, science, right?"

Vivian sighed. "Actually global warming caused higher than predicted evaporation, increasing at a rate that's a little more logarithmic than exponential. But ... after all the years of unchecked behavior, the increased evaporation caused the drought in California and Texas, which were resolved by catastrophic downpours and El Niño type weather patterns." She paused and looked down at her confused partner.

"What the hell?"

She shook her head and dumbed it down. "More evaporation puts more water in the air which makes more rain and more snow."

Christian snorted. "You are such a nerd."

"You've met my mom," smiled Vivian, climbing down her snowbank.

"And yet you're not in science."

"Too depressing." She shook snow off her pant leg. The real answer was more complex and fraught with drama. Even though she knew Christian would understand, especially since it was similar to his own.

As she walked back to their cruiser, Christian asked, "Why aren't you in science?"

"I told you, it's depressing. Dead people all day." She shook her head,

"There's other science. You used to be into Mythbusters kinda stuff."

Admittedly she'd known Christian for fifteen years or so, but it was easy to forget people knew that about her. "That was Leo's fault," she said and smiled. "He loved programming that crap for me."

Her cousin Leo was into playing with computers. It was his job now, of course, but he loved it deeply. When she'd been a pre-teen, he'd helped her build a balloon that was launched into the edge of space. Any time she needed computer help, he'd been there. And now he was getting ready to move to Texas in the summer and start a new business doing something she didn't understand at all.

"I remember when you told me about the time Sue took you to the bomb range," he remarked, getting into the car.

"Oh that. Yeah, blowing things up is still cool," Vivian laughed. She blew on her hands. "C... Can I ask a question?"

"Sure." He started the car and cranked up the heat.

Absently, Vivian turned it back down, remembering the words of the service guys, not to run it too hard. "Why did you go with Gene?"

Her partner froze, reaching to turn the heat back up. "What?"

"Gene. Mackenzie. The, uh, the man-"

"I know who he is," said Christian acidly, putting the car into gear. "Why the hell are you asking about him?"

Vivian leaned back, weighing her options. Would it be worse to say it outright or not? "Because I only know a couple people who were kidnapped. And Traci and Gail aren't the same."

The other officer stared down the road. "Why would you say his name?" Christian's knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"C..." She swallowed. "Why does a kid go with a grownup? They go with people they trust."

He glanced at her. "And what, you think I remember what it was like to be two and kidnapped? I have some deep insight into why kids run off with strange adults?"

Damn it, he always took things to the worst end. "No," she grimaced. "I'm ... I'm telling you my thoughts. If the mom didn't take him, and the teachers didn't, maybe a coach. A trusted adult. And I can guess all I want, but you're the one who would actually know."

The other cop fumed silently as he drove. "You suck with people, V."

"Don't call me that," she frowned.

"You can't just say that and expect me to think in my right mind." He waved a hand by the side of his head. "God. You're an idiot."

"Sorry." She leaned back against the seat and looked out the window as they drove slowly.

Finally Christian spoke, "You're buying lunch."

She smiled but didn't turn to look. "Fine. But not burgers."

They ended up at a burger joint anyway, for lack of anything else in the area that was open. While Christian ordered, holding the tomatoes for Vivian, she walked around from store to store flashing the photo of the missing kid. Her last stop was a drug store.

"Officer! You look like you've had a day." The man grinned broadly.

It was always easier to be friendly to people in uniform. The fears Vivian had of them knowing her went away, because they just wanted to see there was a person behind the badge. Nothing more. "Been a weird week. Actually... Are you the pharmacist?"

"And owner. I'm one of the last mom and pop shops out here," he sighed.

She pulled the photo out. "We're looking for this boy. He went missing from school."

Putting on a pair of reading glasses that looked like Gail's, the man frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't know him."

"He might have come in a sports outfit? He plays baseball at the park."

"Wrong season... Oh the Eagles? I sponsor them!" He reached around and tapped the photos on the wall. "My son played. 2020. That was a good year. They came in third in the city. You play?" He looked her up and down. "You look athletic."

Vivian smiled. "Soccer. And hockey. My mom's a hockey fanatic," she shrugged and winced. Damn it.

The owner shook his head. "And hurt. What's that from? This case?"

"Oh, no, I caught an elbow playing one-on-one with my friend. He's a tank."

With an audible tsk, the owner walked around back and collected a bottle and a tube. "These. Rub this on, it'll help now. The pills are just naproxen."

"Those I've got," she admitted and pulled the pill bottle out from her jacket. Holly had pressed the bottle on her the minute she got home. Fishing out her wallet, she paid for the rub, though. Holly had a lot for muscle aches, her normal ailment from sports. Gail rarely got banged up anymore, and when she did it was all ice and heating pads anyway. The Salonpas hadn't helped much at all, though maybe this would.

"Good. Rub that in, it'll help." He hesitated. "Can I see the photo again?"

"Sure." Vivian handed it over and watch him match it up to the wall. He was comparing the school photo to the ones from the team. The Eagles. Huh. Vivian took her phone out and made a note to check if the coach was cleared. But something else stuck in her head, nibbling the edges of a memory.

"No, I'm sorry, I wish I knew this year's team better," sighed the owner at length, handing the photo back.

"It's alright, sir. I really appreciate you looking. If you remember anything, would you please call?" She handed over the black and white photo with the number printed up.

Nodding, he stuck the photo to the register. "Of course. I just think, if it was my boy, I'd be a lunatic."

The father really had been, mused Vivian. "My parents would too," she agreed. Holly would probably be sitting on Gail, making her wait, while Gail ranted that she wasn't just any other parent. It was probably for the best that Vivian had waited until adulthood to start stressing her moms out. Vivian looked around the store as she got ready to leave. "It's a cool building."

"Thank you. My great-grandfather worked here too." The man smiled. "Of course, it was a church then."

Church. Eagles. Vivian fought to keep her voice calm and even. "Oh? It doesn't look like one."

"It was a secret Catholic Church. Started in the 1700s around the Quebec Act," he shrugged. "It's a historical landmark now."

Spider sense tingling! Vivian widened her eyes. "Really? I didn't know there were any still left in Toronto!" She tried to smile like Chloe always told her made people smile back.

It worked. The owner grinned. "You're interested? Oh, wait, I know!" Reaching under the till, he pulled out a pamphlet. "Here. The history. I wrote it up when I was converting it. I had to, since I was changing it from a church, you see. We needed to prove it would keep its landmark status." The owner babbled on a little and Vivian skimmed the pamphlet.

This building was built by Richard Reynolds in the late 1800s, after the original was burnt down multiple times during the Orange Order's rise to influence. The church's founders had run away from persecution in Quebec but hadn't found Toronto to be the bastion of safety they'd hoped for. The last priest, Nathan Zanaro, had closed up following a gang shooting during Sunday Mass, back when Gail had been a rookie with a tie.

Zanaro.

Holy fuck.

"This," said Vivian slowly, "This is amazing. Can I keep this?"

"Sure," beamed the owner. "There's a website too."

She flipped the pamphlet over and grinned at the URL there. "Awesome. You've made my day, sir."

Daughter or not, Gail did not step in when the detective running the kidnapping laid into Vivian until it got personal. "You're not working a gang case! I don't care who your mommy is, but you're looking for a lost kid! Wasting time like this is why kids end up dead."

Gail sighed. She could see the rare anger coloring Vivian's neck. "Chloe," she muttered to the woman beside her.

"Yeah, I'm on it," nodded the head of UC ops. "Hey, Archer? She's got it. Give it a rest." Chloe smiled her sweet, innocent, grin and put a hand on Vivian's shoulder.

The man scowled. "She thinks she can get away with it because of that name." He stabbed a finger at Vivian, not touching her, but still emphasizing the name tag.

Vivian's posture changed. That had happened a few times in Gail's experience, but Vivian did have her triggers. Men still tended to bother her and when they got in her face like that, it upped Vivian's ire. Badly.

And Gail had to stand back and do nothing. Because this was Viv's life, and her career and her future. She had to figure out how she was going to work with people like Archer.

"I didn't," snapped Vivian. "Sir." Well at least she remembered that. "I was asking around and I found one of the baseball sponsors."

"And got distracted by a case that isn't any of your damn business! Find the kid! That's your job, rookie!" Archer stabbed with his finger again, this time thudding it on Vivian's vest. "You're not a detective, and you won't be one if you keep this shit up. Do you understand?" When Vivian nodded, he added, "Just because you're a damn Peck, don't think you can get away with things. Okay? You're nothing but a rookie."

Gail expected her kid to lash out. Instead, Vivian did what Gail still tended to do. She sucked it back in. Even from this far away, Gail could see the anger making her daughter practically vibrate. She just swallowed everything and bit out, "Yes, sir."

It was Chloe who snapped. "Hey! Archer!" Grabbing the detective's hand, Chloe pulled it away. "Take a walk." He opened his mouth and Chloe lowered her voice. "That's an order."

There was a moment of tension and Archer turned and stalked off. Vivian was still shaking with suppressed... Well. Anger probably. "Thank you, ma'am," Viv muttered, barely audible from the gallery.

"He has a point," Chloe said more gently. "Go wash your face, get back out there and find the kid. That's what we need you to do, Peck." Somehow the way Chloe said the name made it sound like less of an insult.

Nodding, Vivian walked off towards the locker room. Gail sighed and leaned on the railing. "Thanks, Chloe," she said as soon as the detective rejoined her.

"Does he hate Pecks or something?"

"Not last I heard." Gail shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything, though. You know that."

Chloe scowled. The tiny thing had heard people swear Gail only had rank because she was a Peck. It had been one of the few times Gail had seen Chloe rip into someone at the Penny. "Archer's an ass. Why is he in charge of this case?"

"Missing Persons isn't usually my purview unless it's something big," shrugged Gail. "Besides, he's bucking for a promotion. If this ends badly, it's his last real shot."

"Not a good reason for him to act like an ass to an over eager rook."

Gail smiled. "God, that kid," she laughed under her breath. "Her brain is a strange place."

The tiny detective laughed back. "Puh-lease. Pot? Kettle." Then she asked, "What did she find?"

"A lead on the Rivers stuff. She found a drug store that was a church, and they sponsor a little league team called the Eagles."

Chloe's eyes went wide. "Holy crow."

"I know, right? If she'd actually been assigned to work on it, she'd be golden." Gail shook her head. Her staffers were running the information now. "Do you have anyone over in the Don River area? Upper?"

The red-haired woman looked thoughtful. "A couple CIs. What do you need?"

"I need someone to see how deep it goes. And I have a new player. The Reynolds family."

Nodding, Chloe straightened up. "I'll see what I can get you."

Gail nodded back. She wanted to ask if Dov was going to take the promotion to Inspector and move to the big building, but it was hard to voice that. Things were starting to change and move on. They weren't kids anymore, after all, and having children they'd know as toddlers be the rookies was ... Well it was horrifying.

Guilt and fear. Every single day Gail worried she'd not prepared Vivian enough for the job. She worried she hadn't given her daughter the tools to deal with these things. There was built in pain still in that child. Darkness. Things Gail was used to shouldering on her own.

Cases with kids always made Gail doubt her parenting skills more. There were some cases, back when Vivian had been small, that Gail wanted nothing more than to spend her night on the couch with Holly on one side and Vivian on the other, holding her family close. Then there were the days like today that gave Gail a knife-in-the-gut stab of agony. She knew, she felt in her bones, that this case was not going to end well.

"This is why I don't work in children's crimes," Gail muttered as she got back to her office.

"Hear here," replied John, standing at her computer whiteboard.

"Why are you in my office?"

He shook a pamphlet. "Your child seems to have inherited your mother's luck. Did you see this?"

"No, I was busy watching her get reamed out by Archer. I got the overview. Church. Eagles."

"You should read this."

Gail took the pamphlet and started to read. "Are you fucking joking?"

John looked over his shoulder. "I know, right?" He grinned. "It's like someone filled in Mad Libs for us."

Smiling, Gail sat at her desk and fired up her computer. "I bet half the rookies from the last four years don't know what Mad Libs are, John."

He scowled. "Fuck you, boss." He circled more places on the map. "Lawson and Co. Used to be and Sons, but the current owner is a woman. Jacqueline. Used to be construction. Turned into money stuff after the crash."

"Seems backwards," muttered Gail, putting that in. "You're giving them the third territory?"

"I am." He tapped it. "Because Jackie Reynolds' grandmother was Gloria Zanaro."

Gail threw her hands up and laughed. "How the hell did we miss that?"

"Came at it the wrong way. We were trying to find the lost kids. I started assuming one of the married ins had to be a Z and boom." He grinned ear to ear. "Why was Archer yelling at her? Kid has a knack for finding shit."

Looking up from the computer, Gail sighed. "She's supposed to be finding that missing kid, John."

Her sergeant nodded, cringing a little. "Bad feel," he agreed. "This is not a happy ending."

That was part of why Gail liked him so. He wasn't afraid to speak from his gut. "Yeah," she agreed.

It was a really bad feel.

Unlike her peers, Vivian was familiar with death in a different way. She'd seen it, smelled it, felt it in her bones. She'd cried over graves, glared over others, and held her mother's hand when Holly had to identify the body of her aunt who died suddenly up in Barrie. She'd been to funerals and unveilings and she knew the weird pressure a dead body put on the soul.

She'd never felt it over a child before and she hoped it would be a very long time before she did again.

"Is he…" Lara hadn't come any closer from the trail.

"Yeah." Vivian pulled her glove off and touched her radio. "Dispatch, 4727, we found Gabe Rodriguez. 10-45."

Her radio crackled. "4247, confirm 10-45."

"Dispatch, confirmed." She relayed their location and sat back on her heels. "I'm sorry, kid," she said to the body.

The crunch of a footstep in snow alerted her to Lara finally braving the situation. "Is it easier? Saying 10-45?"

Vivian looked up. "Easier than saying he's dead? I don't know." She slowly stood up, wincing as her rib protested. Three days and it still hurt. The muscle rub was helping. "The odds are against finding anyone at all, the longer it takes."

Shuddering, Lara hunched in her jacket as if that was why she felt cold. "I'm not going into juvenile crimes."

"Skip Missing Persons too," suggested Vivian. The cold was weirdly helping her calm down. Her entire body felt too hot, just seeing the dead boy. She'd been upset since being (rightly) called out for getting distracted by the case she wasn't even working on.

At home last night, Gail had said she understood both sides, but Vivian was not and would not be assigned to the case. It wasn't fair to ask her mom to mediate the issue, and Vivian knew it. The problem was one of her own creation, and Gail was simply letting her work it out. Which was beyond fair. If she'd asked, Gail and Holly would both offer advice and help.

The fix was really simple. Do her job, don't get distracted. It wasn't Vivian's fault she'd walked into that, though. She'd been trying to do the right thing, flash the photo around. Okay maybe she'd suggested they try the little league area because it was the Don River and she had a bug up her ass about it.

Stupid Archer. She didn't want to be a detective either. That was kind of why she hadn't stuck with the science stuff Holly loved. Solving puzzles like that with people was just not interesting. She liked patrol. It was fun and different and she got to see things in a new way. She got to be there to help people on their worst days and try to make them better.

Except today. Today she was going to be the person who had to deliver the worst news.

Lara cleared her throat. "Do we have to tell the parents?"

"Not first. Det. Archer will do that. But they may want to talk to us."

Hunching more into her jacket, Lara shook her head. "I'm never having kids."

"There are worse things." Vivian shoved her hands in her pockets to warm them up. Like leaving the kids abandoned. At least now, as an adult, she understood why people died. The memory and understanding of why her parents were dead had taken years to come to terms with.

Actually she was pretty sure she hadn't yet. Not totally.

What she did understand was that being left behind was hard. There was an emptiness to things, a hollowness that never really filled. Not even with Holly and Gail did it heal itself, not for her. She loved her moms and they loved her, but she would probably always feel a hole in her heart from before, just like Gail still felt one from her own father. But, as Gail had told her once, when the scars stuck around, it was best to put them to good use.

Vivian was still contemplating that when their backup showed up. She told Duncan how they'd found the body and then repeated the story for Archer. They'd followed the leads from where someone had reported seeing the boy while an adult bought clothes. They'd checked various yards of abandoned houses in the area. They'd knocked on the doors of occupied houses.

Finally they found him when a ten year old boy asked if his friend wanted to see a dead body, and his friend flagged down their car. The boys were with Andy and their parents, quiet and a little scared. Vivian couldn't blame them at all. The parents were a little more shell shocked than the kids. It wasn't real yet for them.

It became real when Holly showed up. "Dude, your mom..." Lara elbowed her.

Her mother, Dr. Holly Stewart, was bundled in a warm, puffy, jacket. It was the one Gail had bought for her last year when Holly had complained she was too old to be cold. The hat was one of Gail's old patrol watch caps. Sorrel snow boots, tied up snug, crunched the snow as Holly walked to the crime scene tape. After conferring with the techs, Holly turned to the two rookies. "Which one of you examined the body?"

Raising her hand, Vivian walked closer and Lara followed. "Checked his pulse on his neck, ma'am."

Once Lara had asked if it was weird calling her mothers 'ma'am' all the time. The truth was that it was not. Her moms, in uniform and at work, were her superiors. There was no question they got the titles they deserved. In fact, it was a relief to call them that.

"Don't worry, you didn't pull a Gerald," offered Holly, the smile faint and distant. "Rigor set in a while ago. Did you see any other footprints?"

They both shook their heads. "We checked all the way back to the tree line," explained Lara.

"Last snow was... This morning," mused Holly, looking at the child. "He's not covered." With a sigh, Holly turned back to the rookies. "Did you give your statements?" They nodded silently. "Good. Meet us back at the lab."

It wasn't until they were at their cruiser that Lara dared ask. "Is she going to make us watch the autopsy?"

Make was the wrong word. It wasn't punishment. It was a lesson. It was a hurdle they had to pass. "She's going to do the autopsy." Vivian sat down and buckled in. "You know why."

"Doesn't mean I like it."

"No one likes it." But this was something they had to get used to.

Lara sighed as Vivian pulled out and started down the road. "Do you think it ever gets easier?"

"Not kids, no." This was the kind of case where Holly would be quiet when she got home. When Vivian had been younger, and not quite understood what was going on, Holly would come home and sit and watch Vivian. The worse days she'd look like she wanted to hug Vivian every ten minutes, and usually would be holding herself back from that because Holly knew Vivian wasn't a hugger. The worst of all, though, were the days that Holly could barely stand to look at her.

As she'd gotten older, Vivian came to see those days for what they were. The bad ones were when a child died. The worse were abuse or neglect, like what she had survived, and as a teen Vivian would hug Holly close on those days. The worst though... That thank god had never happened to her, not at her birth parents hands nor in foster homes, but it wasn't uncommon enough.

Lara broke into her thoughts. "Who's Gerald?"

Holding back a laugh, Vivian shook her head. "Someone who thought a guy was dead when he wasn't." It was a kindness to protect Duncan's identity. He'd grown up a lot, after all. It also wasn't funny at all that day. Today was not a day for laughter, even if the morbidity of it all did make her find the absurdity in life.

As Gail often liked to point out, she came that way. The dark humor and the inappropriate laughter was something Vivian had always had. For the first time, though, this autopsy knocked it out of her. Now she really understood why her parents had those days they were just wiped clean of emotion. They had to shut down so much of themselves just to deal with the horror of what they'd seen.

She beat her parents home that night and went to her bedroom, propping her feet on the headboard. It was a retreat. But she needed the quiet and the peace just then. She needed a break to deal with what seemed to be the accidental death of a kidnapped child.

Allergic reaction. Death. Severe anaphylaxis. What a hell of a way to go. They were still waiting on the labs to find out exactly what had killed the boy, but Holly showed them what the signs were for the allergy. There were lesions and discolorations in the boy's throat, indicating it had been ingested. Probably the kidnapper gave him something mundane, like a pb&j sandwich.

The floorboard outside her room creaked. Gail never managed to avoid that one. "Hey, kid," said Gail. "Your mom's on her way home."

"She okay?"

"Eh. She asked how you were."

Vivian leaned her head back to look at Gail. "I love you, Mom."

Blinking, Gail walked in and sat on the bed. "Okay?"

"You and Mom. I just feel really lucky."

Gail made an aha noise and leaned on Vivian's legs. "I feel that way too," she admitted.

Vivian sighed. "It won't get easier, will it?"

"It will," mused Gail. "Weirdly, it got easier when we had you. Holly says it's because we found out what we could lose and it makes it more ... Understanding. We get how important it is, and we'd want that with you."

"I'm not having kids any time soon," muttered Vivian.

"Not with the kinda dates you're going on, kiddo," Gail agreed. She patted Vivian's leg. "You need some time to process or you want to come downstairs and fine something to shut up the voices in your head with?"

"You mean cooking or video games, huh?"

"Shooting range? If you really want to play softball, I can do that."

For a moment, Vivian thought about taking her up on it. And then she thought about her other mother. "Cooking. Mom will want to stay home." Vivian got up and pushed her hair back. "Think Mom would cut my hair?"

"No," smile Gail. "That was a one time thing."

"Probably best. You had the stupidest bangs."

Gail looked affronted but laughed as she followed Vivian out into the hallway.

"I just feel bad going out to a concert in the middle of a case," sighed Holly, threading an earring through her ear.

"It's always the middle of a case." Gail was looking at her face in the mirror over her sink, fixing her eye makeup. "It's not my case. And it's not yours anymore." Holly frowned and put in her other earring. "Stop frowning, Holly, you'll get a wrinkle." Reaching over, Gail ran her thumb over the crease between Holly's eyebrows.

She leaned into Gail and let her wife put a necklace around her. "I wish I'd found something useful."

"Besides cause of death?" Gail kissed her neck. "You helped more than anyone else." Hands wrapped around her waist. "I need to relax. I'd like to listen to beautiful music with my beautiful wife in a beautiful place."

It sounded nice. And a night listening to music with Gail usually relaxed her too. "You're right." She covered Gail's hands with her own. "You're right," repeated Holly. She patted the hands and Gail let go. "You are right."

"Come on, plus one. We need a date night. The kid is working tonight. Which means ..." Gail trailed off and put in her earrings and fixed her lipstick.

Holly rolled her eyes but put in her contacts and admired Gail as she swung a winter wrap around her shoulders. "Can we skip to that part?"

The groan from the doorway to their bedroom reminded Holly that Vivian had not left for the night shift yet. "You are so annoying, Moms." Her daughter was in jeans and a sweater, holding her jacket.

"You want to borrow my car?" Holly started down the stairs. "I worry about you driving that bike in winter."

"I'm fine, Mom," promised Vivian. "Go have fun with Mom and look at pretty things."

"Listen to pretty things," corrected Gail, ruffling Vivian's hair. "Go make the world safer, Officer Peck." Vivian's face lit up as she went to the kitchen for some coffee.

Holly smiled and pulled on her coat. "You always know what to say to make her smile," she told Gail quietly.

Her wife glanced at their daughter. "It's easy at this point. God help me if she asks us to help her with her dates."

"Easy now, Peck." Holly shook her head and opened the garage door. "Be safe, Viv."

"It's just night patrol, Mom. In winter. Mom, tell her how boring winter is."

Gail just smiled. "Watch your ribs, sweetheart." Hustling into the car, Gail rubbed her arms. "Why didn't we insulate the garage?"

"You could put on a jacket," teased Holly as Gail started her car.

"It's warm in the car. It's warm at the concert. I'm paying for valet parking. When will I be cold?"

"Waiting on the car," she smiled at her wife. "I'm the one with pants. And a coat."

"And you will happily wrap that wool coat around me to cuddle me and keep me warm."

Damn it, Gail was right about that, too.

It did take until halfway through the first part of the concert for the worrying about cases and children on patrol to stop. At that point, the music and company eased the doubts out of Holly's mind. She'd never been one for classical music before Gail, preferring the loud, thumping, pounding rock that got your blood moving and heart racing.

After twenty-one years with Gail, nineteen as her wife, Holly had come to appreciate the wash of calm that came from a concert like this. The artistry of the entire affair, from the work put in to looking beautiful down to the quiet moment when a solo violinist drew out a long, pure, note from a piece of wood and bone and metal, was soul restoring. It reminded her that, among all the pain and loss, there was wonder and perfection in more than the tiny bubble of life created for oneself.

Hope.

Peace.

Wonderment.

All the things Holly had carried with her as a child, the curious nature that drove her to poke at dead bodies, came from those moments and feelings. The music played and the feelings came back, dancing around her, reminding her of who she was and what she was. No fear. No doubt. Just Holly.

She squeezed Gail's knee and leaned in to her shoulder, smiling. Gail smiled back and signed slowly, asking if Holly felt better. Bobbing her hand to sign a yes, Holly snuggled closer and Gail's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

At intermission, Holly sipped a glass of white wine and watched Gail talk to a young girl at her first grownup concert. The child was struggling to understand everything about the music and why the adults were so fascinated. And Gail explained the meaning and the story. The explanation got animated as Gail gestured about the drums and the woodwinds, her hands swooping around.

"Your friend is very excited about the music," said a young woman, not too much older than Vivian.

"My wife," corrected Holly. "She loves this stuff. She can make anyone interested."

The woman blushed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed... My daughter," she gestured at the child was was eagerly asking Gail a question. "Everyone says I should have taken her to Peter and the Wolf. They explain it to them."

Holly shook her head. "Oh that's so boring, though. Kids understand complicated stories. They follow along the basic simplicity, and as they get older they start to see the layers behind it all. The music grows with them."

"You're making me feel like a genius parent," laughed the woman.

"Don't worry, we all feel like we're guessing," Holly said conspiratorially. "Our daughter is almost 24 and we still feel like we have no idea what we're doing."

"Twenty-four? Is she here?"

"No, she's at work. And a little annoyed at her schedule. She loves this stuff too."

"How old was she when you started bringing her?"

"Eight, but we played a lot of it at home beforehand." Gail wanted to bring Vivian earlier, but with everything else that had happened, they waited until she was a little more mature. None of that was a stranger's business.

The lights flickered and the girl pointed at them, asking something of Gail. Gail nodded and gestured over to Holly. They both walked over, the girl excitedly telling her mother about how there was a cool story in the music and did she know? The mother took her hand. "Say thank you, sweetie." And then to prove the point, she smiled at Holly. "Thank you."

The girl bobbled her head. "Thank you! That was cool!"

Gail smirked at Holly. "Kids think I'm cool."

"You're 50 going on 10," teased Holly, kissing Gail's cheek. "Thank you for this."

"The music? Always." Gail threaded her fingers through Holly's and gently tugged her towards their seats.

"The music. The break. The house. The kid. The marriage. The haircut."

That last one made Gail erupt in a brief moment of laughter. "You just gave me a haircut you think is sexy on women."

Holly beamed. "I did. I do. And you do look incredibly divine." The hair was swept into gentle curls that had taken Gail an hour to set properly. Her makeup was subtle and yet striking. The dress hugged every curve. Even now, at 50, Gail's body refused to succumb to her appalling dietary habits. Gail claimed it was the yoga.

"You're one to talk," smiled Gail. "I've never met anyone who makes pants look that inspiring."

Smiling, Holly leaned against Gail's shoulder and looked down at the musicians. She didn't have to reply to Gail's comment. Even in the noise of the audience before the performance, even in the cacophony of the music, and even in those moments of silence in between, Holly knew that she was happy to be there with Gail. And she knew Gail was happy to be there with her.

It was not their first time on the night shift by far, but it still wasn't something Vivian was fond of. The night shift felt weird. Maybe it was because she'd finally gotten a finger on the pulse of the city in daylight, but it was a different beast at night. The rhythm was off.

"You're lost in thought," remarked Lara, sitting in the passenger seat of their cruiser.

"I don't like the night shift." Vivian frowned and slowed at the light.

Her partner nodded. "It feels different, right? Like... When you were a kid, and things were scarier at night?"

Vivian gripped the wheel and sighed. It was normal for kids to be afraid of the dark? She had been for years, but so had Gail. "Yeah," she muttered.

"I had a nightlight until I was sixteen." Lara shook her head. "I know, it's totally childish, right?"

Glancing over, Vivian smiled a little. "I was ten. I get it." There. That was okay to talk about.

"Whoa!" Lara laughed. "Did Peck just tell me something personal? Alert the news! Hashtag princesspeck!"

Vivian slapped Lara's arm and grinned. "Shut up." She checked the traffic before turning. "You're such a bitch. Why do I tell you anything?"

"Better than thinking about this kid…" Lara slouched in the seat. "I can't sleep. I mean, what kind of cold-hearted son of a bitch does that?"

Tiling her head, Vivian wondered what to say. She hadn't slept any differently than usual. But. She wondered what Gabe's sisters felt right now. Did they miss their baby brother? Did they wonder why him and not them? That was one of the questions she'd never get answered.

And that told her what to say to Lara. "At the end of the day, we can give them some answers. Maybe not all of them, maybe not everything, but ... If they can have some closure, it's the best we can do."

Her partner didn't say anything after that, not for a long time. Lara was quiet and looked out the window. Finally, as they pulled up to an all night coffee shop, she sighed. "Okay. Closure. We can do that. We have a dead kid and no trace."

"Nothing out of the ordinary," corrected Vivian. Holly had been very precise about that. "The problem with the trace is that it was all from places he normally went. His brothers had the same kind of stuff, school and home."

"Which means," Lara looked enlightened. "Whoever took him was someone he knew and someone he was around often!"

Vivian nodded. That's what she'd heard the Ds saying. "Except they checked out all the neighbors, the mom, and even the sports team coaches."

"Yeah, why did they get all up in your face about that one?"

Making a face, Vivian admitted, "It's the other case. The one with the drugs and the gangs? I can't get it out of my head."

Lara seemed to understand. "You think it's related?"

"No, just... You know, streams that cross and all that." She popped her door. "Come on, I need some java juice to keep going." Locking the car, they headed inside. Even the brief jaunt outside was bracing.

The seedy late night/early morning crowd grew even more silent and insular as two cops walked in. Vivian had to admit there was a little thrill of power when you could do that to a room. She knew her mother reveled in it. She knew Dov was a bit addicted to it. Hell, even Andy the idealist McNally enjoyed it. That was some of what went into a cop. You had to be a little messed up to want this gig.

Lara ordered their coffees while Vivian looked around. Even for a mostly hipster coffee shop, the clientele at this hour was the sort of person most people's parents told them to stay away from. Not her parents. Gail had taught her to identify the people based on subtle or not so subtle cues: a biker, a probably homeless guy, a drug dealer... A familiar gang-member-slash-dealer.

"Hey, Jordan," smiled Vivian, sitting down at the table. "Long time no see. Keeping out of trouble?"

Jordan Lewis was her mother's CI. Technically Vivian only knew her because the woman had been picked up for dealing once when she'd been visiting the station. Back then, at thirteen, she'd been attached to Gail's hip and not allowed to wander about. When Jordan had been tossed in lockup and Gail had to go collect her, Vivian got her first look at the cells and the skel her mother relied on.

Looking at Vivian for a long moment, Jordan's eyes landed on the name tag and she laughed. "Damn. Didn't expect that. Probably shoulda."

"Eh, it surprised my Mom too." Vivian grinned.

Jordan frowned. "Yeah, you know you don't look like her."

"Not the first time I've heard that." Vivian shrugged.

That got her a familiar look, but not the one of sympathy and 'you poor thing.' It was the look that someone else who'd been in the system shared with a fellow survivor. "How long?"

"Half a year. Drop in the bucket."

"Yeah, but you have the look." Jordan sighed. "You're like me. You've seen it. Lived it." Vivian shrugged again, not able to deny it. "She plucked you off the street and raised you like her own... Huh. Maybe I should have kept her card."

But that hadn't been Jordan's path. "Well. We're not really in charge of anything, are we?"

Jordan quietly nodded. "No. We're not. We're what they made us. But. You look like you worked out."

"Power trippin' cop? Sure, take back control somehow," she snorted.

"Used to run a gang, same idea."

They shared a look of understanding. In a way, Vivian suspected she would understand Jordan better than Gail did. And in that moment, she wondered what her life might have been like... What if Jordan had called Gail, relied on her like a big sister? And if Gail had adopted Sophie and Vivian? What strange family might that have made?

Instead of voicing any of that, she just glanced around and remarked, "Hell of a late night."

"I'm waiting for someone."

Vivian paused. "Am I blowing it for you?"

"Nah, just a friend. Works third shift."

"Which is a bitch of a shift," grimaced the cop.

The CI smirked. "You piss off folks?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "They don't assign us night work for that."

"Oh, that's a yes."

"Eh, detective on the case is a dick. He's mad I got chased the wrong rabbit."

Jordan nodded. "Yeah, I know that one. Your old lady had that before too. What're you supposed to chase?"

Hesitating a moment, Vivian pulled the worn photo of the dead boy out of her jacket pocket. "Missing kid ended up dead."

The criminal's face changed. "You can't find the ransomer?"

Vivian blinked. The what? Ransom? "Uh. I'm not a D. They don't tell me that shit."

But of course Jordan knew. She caught it. "You didn't know... They would have told you. I mean, you handle those differently. Right?"

"Uh. I assume. I haven't been on one yet. This is my first year."

Jordan looked thoughtful. "You're going to owe me one. Pen." Handing over the pen Holly had given her for graduation. She watched Jordan write down a name. "He's the guy to haul in. Works for a crew I wouldn't touch. Rumor was they were running a ransom scam that went tits up."

Taking the napkin, Vivian read it and frowned. "He died before they could send the ransom note."

"That's all over the under," nodded Jordan.

They shared a look. "This plays out, I do owe you." Jordan smirked and dismissed Vivian with a flick of her eyes.

Lara, bless her soul, had done nothing to interrupt their tête-à-tête. When Vivian walked over and took her coffee, the other officer only arched her eyebrows. It waited until they were back in the car and Vivian handed her the paper. "Who's Nathan Sterling?"

"A dangerous, dangerous man. Look him up, will you?"

The other woman frowned and tapped into the computer. "Suspected accomplice for kidnapping. Ransom... Shit. He lives in the same area the kid did. Do you think he's the guy?"

"Maybe. That woman in there is one of the Department CIs. She's my mom's spy for gangs." Vivian frowned. No. Wait. "Kid gangs. Has Sterling ever been processed?"

"Only like a hundred times. Why?"

"Identifying marks. Look for a cigarette burn on the inside of a wrist." Jordan had a burn scar. It wasn't an accident and it was in a specific location.

"Okay, now you're creeping me out."

Vivian grinned a feral smile, baring her teeth. "He's 38 to 40 years old. Known associates, Curtis Pane." Vivian put the car into gear. "We've got a lead."

Marveling, Lara buckled up. "I can't tell if you're good luck or bad luck, Peck."

Neither could Vivian, but ransom and kidnapping and a lead? That would get her back in the good books for the detectives.

Generally Gail didn't plan to go into work after a night out with Holly. She was rarely in the right frame of mind to do serious policing following good music. Even less so when she'd been wrapped in the amorous arms of her wife. Holly and mornings. They were worth waking up for. As it turned out, Holly was just as horny when she woke up early as she was if she was still awake at 3am. It had been a very good early morning. Or late night. Take your pick.

But the phone call from her squad around four AM had caught her interest, more so when the name 'Curtis Pane' was dropped. Untangling herself from the sleepy brunette, Gail called Steve and picked him up on the way in to the station.

"Nice hickey."

"Bite me, butt face," she snarled at her brother.

"No need, Holly did it for me." But he handed over a cup of coffee and settled into the car. "Did your kid really find a lead?"

Gail sucked down half in one go. "I know, right? She's got Mom's luck."

Her brother sighted dramatically. "Someone had to." They'd both had to fight tooth and nail for every opportunity. Of course everyone assumed their lives were handed to them, even now, because Peck. "Is she getting shit about that?"

"Not like we did," mused Gail. "Universe had to start giving her something good back."

"She got you guys."

Gail glanced at Steve and smiled. There was that. The kid had lived through enough ups and downs, but she had come through pretty well. "True." She pulled up at the station.

Inside, a sleepy Chloe had brought in a familiar face from ThirtyFour. "Jesus, Pecks," snarled Frankie Anderson. "Someone owes me a million for tapping my CIs all night."

"The universe can do without the best sex ever for one day, Anderson," grinned Gail, feeling feral.

"Didn't stop you. Nice hickey."

"Try being married. Ball and chain is worth it." But the time for friendly bantering was done. They had a job. "Your guys got eyes on Nathan Sterling?"

"Not for a couple days," yawned Chloe. "But ho boy, we got details."

"Round up in my office," Gail said. "Who's the night sarge right now?" They all looked over at, of all people, Andy McNally. Still not a sergeant technically. Yet. "Right... McNally! My office. Bring coffee."

Andy frowned. "I'm not your minion!"

Turning to the stairs, Gail replied, "Are too!"

They all did reconvene in Gail's office, Andy included. The woman finally wanted her stripes and, unlike Dov who had busted her ass for it, or Traci who had natural luck, Andy was a mixed bag of success and shit. A case like this might give her the kick she needed to get that promotion, and Andy knew it.

"Nathan Sterling. Mid or late forties, depending who you ask. Accomplice for kidnapping kids of rival gang members." Frankie tapped the photo projected on Gail's wall. "Never managed to make anything stick on him, though. Last four years, he's taken over that dirty work. Grabbing kids from the system, turning them into runners. Best we can do is charge him as a kidnapper, but you know those kids."

Gail nodded, propping her feet up on the desk. "They'll die by their gangs. Frankie, who died and why are you here? Sterling's guns and gangs, or vice. What would he kidnap Gabe for? The kid doesn't have anything to do with drugs."

From the couch, Chloe chimed in, "Mom does." Everyone turned to look at her. "You are gonna love this," she said to Steve. "She used to be a runner for Spikes."

Steve stood up from the desk. "Spikes. Are you shitting me?" He stared at Frankie. "Do you have any idea who the hell Spikes is?"

The acerbic detective snorted. "What do I look like, a rookie? Her name lit up the checks."

"Checks?" Gail arched her eyebrows. "Why were you checking on her?"

"I wasn't. I was running prints on the dick of a dead guy." Frankie shook her head. "My life is so damn glamorous. I saw Price had her name all over this shit, so I called her. She's the boss after all."

Chloe beamed. "You love me, Frankie."

Barring her teeth at Chloe, Frankie snarled. Technically Chloe wasn't Frankie's boss but was the undercover supervisor for the same three divisions Gail monitored. When Blackstone had retired, Chloe took over that role. Anything undercover went through her. Gail had never regretted recommending her for the job. But Frankie- sorry, Detective Sgt. Anderson, Homicide, was part of Gail's unofficial cadre of minors who didn't actually work for her but were willing to come at the drop of a hat.

There were quite a lot of people who were willing to follow Gail's lead, actually. It was strange how things worked out. This was the universe her parents had tried to make her create in their own insane way. Gail's version was way better.

"You two stop flirting," Gail warned Price and Anderson, smirking. "Spikes. So Rodriguez's mom was a drug runner. And that's why she left the kids?"

"That's my theory," agreed Chloe. "Hooking and drugs."

Frankie lifted her coffee cup. "Dead guy was a rich John. Heart attack in his car after a sexual encounter. DNA swabs matched."

"Seedy," muttered Steve.

Chloe grinned. "Isn't it? Frankie has her CIs looking out for her right now. I've got mine looking for Sterling, but Steve..."

The man nodded. "I'll get mine out on him too. Send uniforms looking for her, though. Sterling's got to be looking for her for ... Whatever?"

"Theft," drawled Frankie. Everyone winced. "Yeah, I know, brilliance there. Steal from your dealer. Who've you got in Vice, Peck?"

Steve frowned. "No one... Oh. Sorry."

Gail rolled her eyes. Ten years and Steve still had trouble with the fact that the default Peck in their world was her. "Luck's in vice. Swarek. Not that he listens to me, but ..." She looked at Andy cautiously.

"Anton Hill," mused McNally. "He'll do anything if you let him back on this one." At Frankie's questioning look, Andy added, "It's his white whale."

The homicide detective snorted. "I'm impressed Basset Hound Swarek's read that."

"Apparently he reads when he's undercover," shrugged Andy. "Read. Whatever. You better have someone else ask him, though."

"Yeah, Frankie, you take that one. Pull in anyone you trust."

Chloe pursed her lips. "Wes?"

"He's reliable," shrugged Gail. "Okay. Marching orders. I want Anna Sophia Maria Rodriguez and I want Nathan Sterling. Alive. I'll talk to the lab, get exactly what killed him besides 'peanut butter,' and Andy you brief Dov for the morning shift. Only the reliable ones on this, so please keep Gerald out of it."

There was general laughter. Gerald wasn't a bad cop, but he was rarely inventive in the right ways.

The morning, Vivian's end of shift, had come with a surprise. Gail was parked in the lot. At six. Gail was never at the station early. And sure as hell not on a night she'd been out late (and up late, be honest) with Holly.

But her mother's presence explained the change in orders last night. Instead of a normal patrol, she and Lara had been sent to look specifically for dealers and hookers. Always fun. But they were looking for folks who plied the hard stuff, like crystal meth, because they were looking for a junkie who stole from her dealer.

Anna Sophia Maria Rodriguez.

And if they didn't find her, they were to help look for Nathan Sterling. But the odds were he was in TwentySeven's territory. So it was hookers for the rest of the night. Which was a sentence Vivian never thought she'd say before. At least they hadn't had to go undercover as hookers themselves. Yet. Gail seemed to feel everyone would do it at least once in their careers.

Undercover work struck Vivian as something hard and uncomfortable. She'd not really looked forward to it in the Academy as a child, and not at all after Gail had gone to ground when she was twelve. Half her life ago. Huh. Did Gail feel like it was a long time away or a short time? Probably both. Her mothers still smiled at her like she was the seven year old who hated bathing. When she'd gotten home, Holly was still there but heading out, complaining about a case. Vivian had gotten a kiss to the forehead and a reminder to shower. Eight hours of sleep and her mothers were still not home when she came back to the station.

"Earth to Peck. You in there?"

Vivian yawned. "I don't like night shifts." She'd been lying on the bench in front of her locker for a while, trying to convince her brain it was a normal hour to be up and about.

With a grunt, Lara sat in the empty space above Vivian's head. "No shit. My mom is the worst roommate. How are yours?"

"Not so bad. I mean, Gail's a cop, so she knows how annoying it is to not get any sleep."

"And Holly's a doctor, so she had ER crap, huh?"

To be honest, Vivian had never thought about that. "Probably. Way before my time." Vivian got up and tucked her uniform shirt in.

Lara looked thoughtful as she changed into her uniform. "Is that weird? My folks are only like 25 years old than I am. Yours are…"

"Gail's 50. Watch it," smiled Vivian. Gail was 25ish years older, but yes, Holly was over 30 years older. "I don't know. They've always been grownups to me. I think it's pretty normal, though. Lots of people our age have parents who are in their 50s and 60s. Look at Inspector Williams. Her younger daughter's my age."

Snorting, Lara kicked her locker closed. A fast change artist. "It's still weird. Your parents still working, where you're working? Man. Why didn't you go to another division?"

Good question. "Find me a Division without a Peck and we'll charge 'em a flat of donuts a week until they fix it," she drawled.

"Okay, you know you suck, Peck!" But Lara elbowed her friendlily as they left the locker rooms.

She tried not to wince, but her ribs were still sore. It wouldn't have been a problem if Christian had only elbowed her once. He's nailed her four times, twice hard, and his elbows were damn pointy. The asshole. "Please," she told Lara. "I'm the luckiest bitch in this joint, and you know it."

Lara scowled. "How are you so lucky?"

"I inherited it from my grandmother. The most arrests in her rookie year, in Fifteen's history." They dry fired their guns and went to the Parade room.

Andy was already standing up front, reading from her phone. When Vivian walked in, she pointed. "Peck. You know the Don Triad area?"

"Uh. Yes." She glanced at Lara, confused.

"Good. You're lead. Take Volk. Fox and Davis, report to Peck about locations to search."

Vivian blinked. "To search for ... Uh, Rodriguez?"

"Sterling." Andy gestured at a table. "Okay, folks, here's the deal. Nathan Sterling is after Anna Rodriguez for stealing drugs. He killed her son, accidental, which she doesn't know yet but probably suspects. You need to find him before he finds her and kills her. Peck knows the area. Any questions, you ping her first."

Fox, who was far older than Vivian, raised a hand. "Sorry, but why aren't we using dispatch for this?"

"Because I said so," sighed Andy. She put her phone down. "Rodriguez is into drugs and is hooking to make the money. Head out to the seedy underbelly. Serve, protect, watch each other's backs."

Vivian scratched the back of her head as she headed back out, Lara at her heels. "Hookers and drugs. Remind me why I thought this life was glamorous," she sighed.

"Cause you're an idealist, like your mom," growled a familiar, if grouchy, voice.

Turning, Vivian grinned. "Hey, Sgt. Anderson. Long time." She knew Frankie mostly from the LGBT crap Gail had to do, but the detective was well known in homicide for her closure rates. And maybe, just maybe, Vivian had a crush on Frankie once, back when she'd been fourteen. She'd also had a crush on Lt. Tran. Why did her parents have to know a bunch of hot women?

"Long enough I didn't know you'd been cut loose. Congrats. Who you riding with?"

Pointing at Lara, Vivian introduced. "Lara Volk, this is Sgt. Frankie Anderson, Homicide at ThirtyFour."

Frankie looked Lara up and down. "She good?" Vivian nodded. "You know what I mean, Peck."

If Lara had been a Peck, she'd have been sat down at told the rules just then. Frankie was asking if Vivian trusted Lara with a secret. "She's good, Frankie," said Vivian quietly.

Studying them both, Frankie nodded. "Right, both of you come with me for a minute. Office."

Andy was waiting for them. "You're going to tell them?"

"Peck could find out anyway. Volk's need to know." Frankie sat down and started with a question. "Why aren't we using dispatch?"

The two rookies exchanged a look. Fox had asked that and Andy blew it off. This was a good question. "Dispatch is compromised?" That was Lara's guess.

But Vivian knew you didn't ask. "Dispatch has public channels anyone with a radio and a brain can listen in on, and since its cross division, we have to use some of them."

At Frankie's nod, Lara scowled. "Why not use private channels?"

Vivian shook her head. "We'd be alerting them to the fact we're on to them."

"Who's them," asked Lara, confused. And then. "Oh. Sterling! He's using us to find Rodriguez?!"

Frankie grinned. "They're smart, see?" She pointed at Lara. "Tell me why I'm here."

The other officer blinked and looked at Vivian, lost. Vivian mouthed 'work it out' and tried to look encouraging. She was pretty sure she knew. "Why is Sgt. Anderson, from Homicide, here?" Lara swallowed. "Um. Well Rodriguez can't be dead or you wouldn't have us looking for her, Ma'am," she said to Andy. "Hookers and drugs and... Dead John?"

Even Andy looked impressed. "Well hell," muttered McNally. "How'd you get that?"

"We've been looking at druggies and streetwalkers for two days. So obviously Rodriguez already nicked Sterling's drugs, which suggests she's not selling but using. She's probably feeding her habit with money she made on the street."

"You better apply for that detective spot in the next year or two, Volk," McNally scowled. "You get that too, Peck?"

Vivian nodded. "Yes, ma'am. And putting me up front makes it look like its nothing but some Peck conspiracy to push me ahead, which keeps the others from looking too deep into motive... That way no one pulls a Gerald and trips us all up."

That made Andy smile. Frankie rolled her eyes. "I can't believe he's still here. Yes, Rodriguez's prints came up on a dead John. Heart attack driving home after sex. Here is her last known. Send the others to these locations," she added, texting Vivian. "Got it?"

Reading the addresses, Vivian frowned until she pulled up a map. "Oh, you're bracketing her with public police presence... Wow. That looks hella random, ma'am."

The detective smirked. "Took me all fucking day to lay this out right. Price and Peck are bitches about this shit." She paused. "Not Gail, Steve."

Vivian smiled. "I won't - we won't fuck this up, ma'am."

After giving out locations to look for Rodriguez, Vivian buckled in and drove to the spot Frankie had given her for them. Lara was quiet, mostly making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. "This is big, Peck," she said softly.

"Yep," agreed Vivian.

"Is that... Does being a Peck give you an all access pass like that?"

Vivian hesitated. You weren't supposed to talk about it. But she could say some things "No. Not the way you're thinking." She drummed her fingers on the wheel and frowned. "It's not a free pass. It's a ... Double edged sword."

Thankfully, Lara was smart. "You had to earn it?"

"Yeah, yeah I did. And I had to pay for it." She exhaled. "Look. Almost my whole life, since I was ten, I knew this was what I wanted to be. I worked my ass off for this."

"I should be pissed," noted Lara. "You get a lot more things handed to you. But they expect a hell of a lot more. And you have a lot more to lose, don't you?"

"Everything." She stopped at a four-way stop. "Okay. Look. Anderson said she was last seen over by the bridge, right? She won't be back there two nights in row, not if she knows Sterling is after her."

"Which she has to know," agreed Lara. "She stole the drugs. Someone would have to be a moron to think they won't come after her."

Vivian snorted. "Well she stole 'em in the first place. She's no Rhodes scholar."

Her partner smiled. "Truth. Okay. Where would you go if you were hiding from evil bosses?"

"Afghanistan," sighed Vivian. The long arm of the law would always find her, though. "But. Assuming I can't leave the country-"

"No," Lara interrupted. "Three kids. She doesn't want to leave the country. She doesn't want to leave them. So she's gonna stick around haunts she knows. Places she trusts." Lara tapped on the computer. "Okay. So here's all her arrest points. Here's here known locations. She's not very..." The officer trailed off.

Vivian understood. "She's predictable. Is there any order? Does she hit 'em in a pattern?"

Her partner studied the list. "No. But... She hasn't hit up this area in a few years."

Right. Vivian turned the car to the location Lara had indicated. "Thank god she's not a seasoned professional, right?"

Lara concentrated on the road. "Yeah, that's what worries me. Sterling is a professional."

That was a good thing to worry about, realized Vivian. "You think he's thinking this?"

"Yeah. See.. I can't think like a coked out hooker. But I can think like an idiot mad enough to do anything to find someone." Lara was so damn serious, it was shocking. There was something about her tone that implied a story.

Everyone was entitled to their secrets. Following the idea of where Sterling might be was a better idea than guessing where someone scared might hide. "Think like a kidnapper and drug dealer who's trying to think like a druggie... Who was double dipping moron with two gangs, on of whom is engaged in a city takeover of the trade." She drummed her thumbs on the wheel. "I'd want to stay out of Three Rivers' territory. Show up, a known dealer, and they'll knock me off. But I want this crazy bitch bad, so I'll play on the fringes. And I figure if she scrumped from me, she's got to have pissed them off too. Which means... Her fucking apartment?"

Lara grinned. "And they say you can't go home again."

Vivian turned the car. "Jesus, that's so stupid."

"I know. But a brain trust wouldn't steal from her own dealers in the first place." Lara shook her head. "That's the most I have ever heard you say in one go, Vivian!"

This felt like one of those moments Holly always said would happen, when someone was offering to get you out of a tree, or hang out with you. Oh. Oh that's what Gail's tree thing meant! This was a friendship offering. Okay, it was time to get out there. "Viv," she sighed absently. "My friends call me Viv."

"Not Vivi?"

"Never twice," she smiled awkwardly. "Hey... Coming up on the apartment. You got a clear view?"

"I do... Bathroom light is on."

Killing the engine and the lights, Vivian coasted to a stop at the end of the block. They eased the doors open and stepped out into the biting cold of the night. "Back door is ajar," noted Vivian. She pulled her hat snug on her head and looked around the area. It was dead.

Down at the other end of the block, a crappy car pulled up, engine off. Same as they'd done. "Non descript," muttered Lara. "You don't think he followed us."

Vivian shook her head. "No way, I would have noticed." Elaine and Gail would give her hell for years if that had happened. "He's just thinking like we are."

They hung back and watched as only Sterling got out of the car. "No backup. He's confident."

"Calling it in," muttered Vivian. She texted Andy and Frankie, saying they had eyes on Sterling. Right away, Andy redirected a unit, Fox and Latimer, to act as backup. They waited, watching Sterling case the joint but not try to get in. "He's listening, isn't he?"

Lara nodded. "Give my arm for a damn parabolic listening."

That would be nice. "We don't know if Rodriguez is in there."

"She's in there. Probably shooting up or coming down from a high. She's scared, so she needed to relive the pressure."

That was a knowing voice, realized Vivian. Lara lived with a single mother and grandmother. Everyone had secrets. Her phone vibrated. "Fox is in position. Okay. Now we just herd Sterling over to them without spooking Rodriguez-"

Lara cursed. "She's coming out the window." And Lara took off running.

With a follow up curse, Vivian took off after her. Damn it. Their footsteps caused Sterling to stop at the door and turn. Slapping her radio, Vivian huffed, "4727! Sterling's on the move and Rodriguez is headed out the window. Fox, Latimer, pick up Rodriguez. We're on Sterling."

Her radio crackled. "Peck! Backup is on the way!" That was McNally. "Can you get him?"

Vivian watched Sterling vault a fence and grinned. "Yes, ma'am." Then to Lara. "He's headed down the alley. Go right, I'll send him your way."

"Right!" Lara skidded off.

It wasn't until Vivian had gathered herself up for the jump that she realized the horrible flaw in her plan. As she jumped, catching the lip of the fence, Vivian felt her ribs pull. This was going to hurt. A lot. Gritting her teeth, she used momentum and hauled herself up and over, landing hard. "Crap," she winced. She wasn't going to be able to catch Sterling. Plan B. "Freeze! Police!"

Sterling's head snapped around, gun in his hand, as he saw her, he raised it and skidded to a stop. It was weird. Vivian wasn't scared. Her world narrowed in to this moment. There was a man with a gun. Vivian was a cop. She had a job. Vivian drew her gun, bringing it up and centering on his body. "I said freeze, Sterling," she shouted.

He was concentrating on her. "You won't shoot me!"

"You have a gun, Sterling! Put it down, kick it away, keep your hands up, or I will shoot." Later on, days later, Vivian would have to process if she would have shot. At the time, at this moment, she knew one thing. She had a partner.

Lara flew out of the alley and tackled Sterling like a linebacker. He hit the ground hard, the gun skittering down the alley. "She said put the gun down," growled Lara, clearly angry, as she forced his face down and cuffed.

Fox brought Rodriguez in safely. Lara took the collar for Sterling. Frankie swore at them all, loudly, and complained about how she'd be up another damn 24 hours. But they'd done a good job.

They ended up at the only place in the area open at three AM. Lakeview Restaurant. Which did not have the view of a lake. But it did have an Irish milkshake, which Andy told them to try. As soon as Vivian took a sip, she burst out laughing and ended up telling Lara the story of Kevin Ford, because the only way to explain why Andy knew this place was to explain about that.

"They stopped a robbery here?"

"Yep, Dov and Andy did." She took a bite of her burger and sighed happily. "God that's good."

Lara looked around. "Fifteen has such a history. That's wild."

"Yeah?" Vivian leaned back. "It's us now too."

The look on Lara's face changed to one of fear. "How can we... God, do you always feel this incredible pressure not to fuck up? I mean, what if they find out how screwed up we are?"

Vivian twirled a french fry between her fingers. Her moms were two of the most accomplished women in law enforcement. Married almost twenty years. Her grandmother had been a Superintendent. Her aunt and uncle were Inspectors. So was her not-known asshat grandfather. "They know we're messed up, Lara," sighed Vivian slowly. "They know we screw up and make mistakes. God, Andy's first rookie, Gerald, nearly got her killed."

"Seriously? What happened to him?"

"Eventually he got better. I mean, Mom nearly ripped his ass a new one when he declared a guy dead who was alive. But he learned. Became a TO even," she smiled. The legend of Gerald, without naming his name, could be useful. Gail always said that Duncan wasn't Gerald anymore, after all.

Smiling back, Lara looked relieved. And then she did that weird thing people did that Vivian never understood. She told something deep. "My mom, my real mom, died when I was ten. OD'd." Vivian blinked and opened her mouth. "I live with my step-mom, her husband, and my dad's mom. Dad died of cancer when I was eighteen."

Vivian nodded slowly. "So you took this a little... Closer to home?"

Her friend and partner nodded back. "I don't mean to but... My mom blew me off, dumped me on my dad. I see Rodriguez and her kid died because she was an idiot."

Yeah. Vivian got that. "It's not you. Like... That kid last month? He's not me. The things that happened to us, we just have to stop it. We protect people like us."

"You make it sound easy."

Shaking her head, Vivian sucked her milkshake. "No. No, it's hard as hell. But we keep trying."

Lara tilted her head. "Yeah. We do." She reached over with her shake and Vivian tapped her own to it. "You know, even though you're hard to know, Peck, you're a good person."

Slowly, Vivian swirled her shake, dipping a fry in and munching it. "Everyone has secrets, Lara. It's allowed."

"Yeah," smiled Lara. "Everyone does... How much shit did you go through to get that smart, Viv?"

"Lots." Lots and lots. "But you, you're going to be a D. You're smart too."

"Think your mom would teach me tricks?"

Vivian laughed. "No, but I know a couple Ds who would be awesome mentors."

So this was making friends. It was kind of nice.

Chapter Text

There were many things Holly never tired of. She never tired of watching the sunset on the lake by the cabin. She never tired of waking up beside her beautiful wife. She never tired watch her daughter laugh. And especially she never tired of spending a day, elbow deep in the guts of a dead body, determining cause of death, identity, and life.

Today it was bones. Greasy, dead maybe six years, bones of an adult male, middle aged. The wear on his bones indicated he'd been severely overweight, if not obese, most of his life, causing a slight curve to his lower extremities and spinal compression. The latter probably didn't help his scoliosis.

Pitting in the nasal cavities suggested chronic drug use. Interesting. That rarely went hand in hand with excessive weight. Diabetes? Maybe. That was a complicated situation and difficult to tell from bones alone. She sighed and checked the bones.

"Is the femur intact?"

Holly paused and tilted her head. "The first time you watched me work in the lab, did you stare at my ass the whole time?"

"Not the whole time," admitted Gail. "That's the dead guy from the pool removal, right?"

"Indeed." Holly straightened and popped her lower back. "I think you're right about getting tables that elevate."

Gail smiled and picked up the tablet on the counter. "Why a hotel renovates in winter, I'll never know."

"Why my wife is here and not her own office, where she has a case she has been hung up on for the last seven months, I'll never know." Holly picked up the femur and turned it around in her hands. "This case has nothing to do with your department. Your friend Frankie pulled it in."

"I tolerate Anderson," grumbled Gail. "And I can't look at Steve's case anymore, it's giving me a headache."

Holly glanced at her wife. Gail was frustrated about a lot of things at the moment. The last had been the offer to run Fifteen as the Inspector. "Did you turn them down?"

Gail nodded and sat down on a stool, kicking it to spin around. "Maybe I should take the other offer. The big building."

Glancing over again, Holly snorted. "You mean like Boyko and Frank did? You'd be bored, honey. There are no entertaining losers breaking the law in fun ways. Just meetings all day."

Her wife let the spinning stool slowly cease to rotate. "Do you mind that I'll spend my life in Major Crimes?"

"No," said Holly with a smile, putting the femur on the tray.

"Well that was fast." Gail sighed, leaned back, and looked at the ceiling.

Holly shook her head. "My hands are covered in ick, honey, I can't hug you. You have a brilliant mind, no patience for fools, and no capacity for boredom. This is the perfect job for you. High pressure cases, a wide variety of of crimes, everything from inventive criminals, to terrorists, to morons with drugs, to that guy who poisoned the beer at the hockey games."

There was a laugh from her wife. "Okay. The beer was cool."

The beer had been poisoned by tampering with the filters on the beer distributors that the sellers wore when walking up and down the stands. Their poisoner had dipped them into 'sanitization' fluid which was actually not at all. Brilliant. And when Holly's team had taken apart every single piece of the device, Gail's had methodically followed the victims. The most ill were the people in the nosebleed seats, at the back of the rows. The highest concentration of poison was on the nozzle. After that, Gail said it had been easy.

"It was. And it's exactly who and what you are, honey. You are incredibly weird and diverse and eclectic and brilliant. So no, I don't mind if you stay in this for the rest of your life. I think you will be happy and, by extension, so will I."

Gail fell silent. Taking that as a sign, Holly bent her head to her work, bringing the bone over to her smaller table and carefully sawing it open. Marrow. Excellent. She extracted a small amount and labeled it. Then she took slivers of the bones and did the same. Holly fell into the zen of her work, forgetting everything except the bones and the work at hand.

The first time Gail had been in the lab, she'd said she could live there. The quiet, the lack of pressure, the time spent being studious and working slowly and precisely, spoke to the fractured cop. It was a respite from a world of pressure and pain and Pecks. Sometimes Gail liked to sit there and think while Holly worked. She liked to escape. Holly, who rarely tolerated anyone hanging around like that, enjoyed having Gail's presence. Not that she'd tell her wife that, it would just give Gail ideas.

Without a word, Gail waited until Holly had washed up and sent her samples to the labs. She picked up Holly's coat and held it out for her, kissed her cheek, and shrugged into her own winter jacket. Holly closed the door and watched the blonde, hands shoved deep into jacket pockets, head tilted in thought.

She knew better than to interrupt. The thinking process of her wife was not something to cut into. Gail was probably actually thinking about the case that was, ostensibly, Steve's. They walked to Holly's car, Gail getting in and staring blankly out the window.

As she buckled up, Holly cleared her throat. "Honey, where's your car?"

"Home. Relay brought me over." Gail smiled. "Wednesday."

Holly smiled. "You're insane, you know that. Right?"

"Hey, every Wednesday, since the kid's been seven, we go to the batting cages." Gail closed her eyes. "Drive us to the cages, wifey. I'm going to try and solve my case."

"Far be it from me to spare the criminal underbelly," smiled Holly, and she took the long way to the cages, letting Gail have more time to dwell. She pulled up at the parking and spotted their daughter leaning against her motorcycle, talking on her phone. "Oh my god," Holly laugh-snorted.

Gail looked over, startled, and laughed. "Wow. That is the absolute butchest thing I have seen in years."

Vivian had her head slightly down, a thick, black and red riding jacket on, jeans, and boots. The boots matched the ones Gail loved to wear, though they were buckled. The jacket looked like the one Holly wore in college, though all good riding jackets looked similar. The helmet was dangling off a handlebar and Vivian was toying with her scarf.

"I wonder who she's on the phone with," mused Holly as she unbuckled.

"The nurse Rachel set her up with. Beth." Gail was grinning ear to ear. "This is going to be date three."

"Oh, wow. Getting serious, huh?"

"She likes her. Said Beth was funny and smart." Gail tossed her coat into the car. "We should wait till they have sex before we start pressing her to bring Beth over for dinner." Holly swatted Gail's arm and took her hand, walking over to the door and their daughter.

The young cop looked up and smiled at her moms. "Okay, tomorrow's good. I'll meet you there before my shift? Great. Yeah, I can't wait. Have a good night." Vivian hung up. "Not a word, Mom."

Gail snorted. "I didn't say anything!" And yet they all knew she meant Gail with that comment.

"You don't have to," laughed Holly. "You didn't have to wait out here, Viv."

"It's cool," Vivian shrugged.

Holly smiled. "Why aren't you meeting Beth tonight?"

"She's on nights. I'm back on days, so I don't feel so blah. Seriously, I hate night shift." Vivian shook her head. "We're having breakfast tomorrow."

"Fine. I won't say anything." Gail smiled at Holly and kissed her cheek. "Let's go hit shit."

It didn't escape Holly's notice that Gail was watching their kid differently that night. There was a trace of worry coloring the blonde's face, a shadow of doubt. Holly waited until they were in the car to ask. "What's going on?"

Gail chewed her lower lip. "Three Rivers has been buying up guns."

Sometimes Holly thought 'guns and gangs' was just a joke of a name, slapping two alliterative terms together. And then these moments happened. "You're sending the rookies out to ...?"

"Keep watch. They're going to be posted at the least likely warehouses. But." Gail sighed. "When they had me do that as a rookie, Chris got stabbed."

Holly knew that story. Chris had told her. And she knew Gail worried about their kid. "Well. She wants this, Gail. You can't stop her."

"I know," muttered Gail. "I don't like it."

Before she put the car into gear, Holly leaned over the console and touched Gail's face. "Hey." Her wife turned and smiled tiredly. "You're a great cop, honey," whispered Holly, and she kissed her softly. "You're going to keep the kids as safe as you can, tell them what they need to know, and protect all of them. And. You're going to let them do their jobs."

Nodding, Gail returned the kiss. "Thanks."

"Good. Stop stressing." Holly settled back in her seat and shifted into reverse as Gail snorted. "That is really unattractive, the snorting."

"You love me," laughed Gail.

She did, Holly smiled. She did indeed.

As Vivian walked into the locker room, she saw Jenny and Lara being conspiratorial. That was never good. Viv put her bag down and immediately the other women sat down on either side.

"What's her name?" Jenny grinned ear to ear.

"Who?" Vivian blinked and hung up her jacket.

"The cutie who kissed you at the coffee shop?"

Ah crap. "Beth, she's a nurse." Vivian put her bag in her locker, tossing her watch in and changing it for the one she wore on patrol. Gail's 10 year watch was utilitarian and basic, engraved with her name and dates. The twenty year watch was a showpiece and ugly as hell. Holly had laughed about it. But this one, this watch was right for a patrol officer. Vivian ran her thumb over it, in absent memory.

Jenny, on the other hand, was fixed on her subject. "Beth the nurse. Is there a second date?"

Technically it would be the fourth. "Probably. She got paged and said she'd call me later. How the hell did you know anyway?"

The woman smiled and held up her coffee cup. "Dripz is my favorite coffee shop. Did she call you yet?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Jesus, it's been an hour. She's still at work. Like we're supposed to be."

"You should text her," Lara decided, and picked up Vivian's phone. "What's your passcode?"

"Fuck no," snarled Vivian, snatching her phone back.

Laughing, Jenny pulled on her belt. "Come on, Peck. She kissed you."

Vivian felt a flush color her neck. That was true. "Why are you obsessing on my date? Don't you have your own to moon over?"

"Aha! I knew it was a date!" Lara grinned.

Rolling her eyes, Vivian started to change into her uniform. "It was a date, yes. I do go on dates."

"You never tell us about them," pointed out Jenny. "I tell you all about mine."

"In excruciating detail," muttered Lara. "But you helped me pick out my dress last week for my date, Viv."

"So?" Vivian blinked at the two women.

Lara groaned. "You know, for someone raised by two women, you fail at girl talk, Peck."

She had to smile. "Moms don't girl talk." Gail certainly never did unless she was being evil and sarcastic. Holly might, but she hated it and called it banal.

"You barely talk," sighed Jenny, dramatically. "How'd you meet her?"

Narrowing her eyes, Vivian asked, "Are you sure this is normal?" Both Jenny and Lara nodded. "Okay... My aunt set us up. Beth's a nurse at St. Pats, and Aunt Rachel works there."

"You let your family set you up?"

"Anyone except my grandmother," nodded Vivian. "Elaine's really bad at it." And in fact she had suggested maybe she should start finding young ladies for Vivian, which had spurred Vivian into action.

Lara buckled on her belt. "Hell, if Beth doesn't work out, I'll find you some girls who like cops."

Making a face, Jenny shook her head. "Oh please no. No badge bunnies. The guys are bad enough. I can't imagine how the girls are."

"About the same," confirmed Vivian. "Went out with one a couple months ago. Yuck."

"How many dates have you and Beth been on?" Lara buckled her duty belt on.

She was not going to get out of this. "That was the third," sighed Vivian.

"Sleep with her?" Jenny was grinning.

"Okay, no. Hell no. No way, no how are we talking about that." Vivian slammed her locker closed.

Jenny nodded at Lara. "That's a no. She wouldn't be that grumpy if she got laid."

Agreeing, Lara clapped her locker closed. "Truth. Three dates and no sex. Is that normal for two girls?"

"Not me," mused Jenny, studying Vivian. "She's shy. No. She's secretive."

"Okay, Jenny, shut up," scowled Vivian. "Seriously. Knock it off."

Her tone seemed to work and they headed out to Parade. No more digging. They filed into the room and Noelle was sitting at the front. "Okay, kids. Settle down. We've got some news." Dov looked nervous for the first time in a long time. "Welcome back for the new year, everyone. Today is the first day I have you all back, so I want you to know we're going to be making some changes. First. End of the month, Inspector Williams is retiring."

The room fell dead silent. Vivian glanced over at the old guard, where Andy was nervous too. She ran over the chain of command in her head. Gail was the ranking officer after Noelle. It went Noelle, Gail, Steve, Traci, Dov and Chloe (though Chloe had no political aspirations so Vivian didn't ever count her), and then Andy. So, since Gail had too much on her hands as is, it was probably Steve. So why was Dov looking so nervous? Steve liked him.

"Our interim Inspector will be Steven Peck, whom you know from, ah, Guns and Gangs," continued Dov. "Then in spring ... That is when I'll be transferring full time to the Staff Superintendent's team."

Lara and Jenny both elbowed her. "What the hell?" That was Jenny, hissing in her ear.

"Didn't know," Vivian hissed back. "Seriously." Of course, as soon as she said it, a dozen small conversations dropped into place. Dov had been worried about a transfer. His transfer. "McNally's taking over as sarge," she realized, a little horrified.

Well. McNally could do it, she mused, but still. That was weird. She never thought of Andy as being in charge of anything. "Sgt. McNally," Dov noted, looking over at the rookies. "Effective now. Say goodbye to your favorite TO kids." They all broke into applause on cue. "Collins is now lead TO, so complain to him if you don't like your assignments."

That caused general laughter. Andy took the podium. "Okay, folks. Epstein and I will be trading things off for a while. And yes, Duncan, I've got a white shirt. Today, you get to have some experience working with our soon-to-be Division Inspector. Peck?"

Steve smiled and gestured over his shoulder, activating the screen. "Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

Behind her, Vivian heard Duncan ask what Italy had to do with anything. She shook her head, as did Andy. "Or in this case, two gangs," Andy explained, tapping the wall and highlighting a face that was weirdly familiar. "Bobby Zanaro. Son of one of the lieutenants of Three Rivers."

"A gang," Steve pointed out. "A gang we took down a quarter century ago. Bobby Jr. goes by the nickname Blue. He's taken back over the gang, restoring them to their former gun running, drug dealing, glory." Steve gestured and Vivian saw he had a clicker in his hand. A woman's face came up on screen. "Dr. Veronica Van Lowe, aka Spikes. She's their resource for the laced marijuana you kids helped us bust last year. Finally, this is Jackie Reynolds, aka Red."

The names all settled in Vivian's head. They'd taken the names from the comic book? How stupid. Chloe, who'd been quietly perched to the side, spoke up. "Red is an accountant who used to work for the Hill gang before she broke off to run, with Hill's permission, about a quarter of the old Rivers territory." Chloe slid off her stool and tapped the screen, a section of the territory going red. "Now it's a third."

Steve tapped Blue and Spikes in turn, lighting up the rest of the area in blue and yellow. "We're splitting you guys up, working with TwentySeven and ThirtyFour. Detectives Swarek and Anderson will be point there, respectively."

"Assignments are on the board," explained Andy. "Serve. Protect." Andy paused and then glanced at the old guard for a moment, before turning to the rookies with a grin. "And don't screw up." She rapped the podium.

They were the old guard, the four of them. Dov and Andy in their white shirts, Gail and Traci in their suits (or as much of one as Gail wore). "Does it feel real?" Traci fixed Andy's collar.

"I feel lazy," admitted Andy, eying her shirt.

"Took ya long enough," agreed Gail, her boots propped up on the coffee table in Dov's office. "Twenty five years to get here."

Dov shoved Gail's feet off the table. "Hey, she's been on more teams than any of us." He grinned. "UC three times. Once for a whole damn year, and she took down the human smuggling ring. Then ... It was drugs for a couple years, that year and a half on vice?"

"Juvenile," Traci chimed in. "K9-"

"Yeah, though that was a total, total failure." Gail grinned. The dog had totally been in charge of Andy that whole time. "Fine, she's done a lot of shit. She's still the last one of us to make sergeant."

Reaching over, Traci held her palm up in Gail's face. "Ignore the Inspector. She's just bragging because she made inspector first. Which is because she totally snipes all the high profile cases, like saving the damn King."

Gail shoved Traci's hand away. "He'd been the prince. And Chloe made sergeant before her! She didn't even get cut loose till-" Traci's hand covered her mouth.

But Andy was laughing. This was the relationship they all had. They gave each other hell, they teased and mocked and harassed. And they were, in the end, friends. Which was still weird to Gail. "I can't believe you turned the job down, Gail," admitted Andy, pulling Traci's hand off her face.

"What? In the Big Building? Please, I'd rather be left for dead in a trunk again." Gail shook her head, ignoring the pained expressions her friends wore from being reminded of Perik. "I really like what I do." And Holly had been right the night before. Too many meetings, too many people, too much non-cop work. She'd be bored.

Dov sat on the coffee table. "Can't spy on your kid from there."

Gail snorted. "You're just jealous my kid's so damn awesome."

"She's a Peck," teased Traci Peck. "We can spy from anywhere." She and Gail high-fived. "It's seriously creepy, Viv being a cop, you know. I feel old."

"I'm younger than my folks were when we started." Gail had done the math a few times. Her parents had been Noelle's age now.

The group took a moment to digest that. Finally Dov said, "I really hope Chris doesn't want to be a cop. It's weird enough seeing Christian every day."

They all agreed to that. "It's not that weird," shrugged Gail. "I mean… I wish she'd stuck with engineering, but the kid wanted this. I'm kind of jealous of her sometimes."

Andy, the other legacy cop, nodded. "You know that's why I never really looked at being a D. I didn't want people to see my dad."

"Oh, no," Gail shook her head. "I could totally be a kick as Superintendent. Don't wanna be. Dov can have that fun."

The man snorted. "I'm going to be the Super's sergeant, Gail."

"And in four years, max, we'll all be talking about how Superintendent Epstein stepped on a booby trap," she quipped.

Laughing, Traci added, "Cracked his back on a horse."

"Failed his recert," teased Andy.

"Out shot all of you at distance," Dov sassed right back.

Andy laughed more. "God, I wonder which one of this class will be the first D."

As one, Traci and Gail replied, "Volk."

Dov jerked his head towards them. "Not like they've thought about it. Christian's going to be the TO, though. He's got the look."

"He's the Oliver. Mostly," agreed Andy.

"No one's Oliver but Oliver," Gail pointed out. "Inspector Shaw. That was funny as hell. Remember how weird he looked in a suit that first week?" That had been the same week Sam had transferred out and Oliver's first appointment was putting Traci as the Homicide Squad lead.

"I wonder who will be our new inspector," mused Traci.

Both Dov and Andy looked surprised. "Steve's not…" Dov looked between the Pecks. "Wow. I thought it was interim because they hadn't finalized things. He's really retiring?"

"Summertime," confirmed Gail. "He's taking a job with our uncle. Sitting on his ass playing in-house security boss." She sighed. Eli had made a great offer that Steve snatched up. She didn't blame him, but she would miss him.

Traci looked happy about it. "He's excited. I think after almost forty years, it's a relief."

That caused a different kind of pause. "Shit, we're old," muttered Andy, stunned. "Do you think we'll all make fifty?"

Dov shook his head. "I don't... You know, this is weird, but I think we'll all tap out before that... Except Gail."

She blinked. "What? Why me?"

"Because you ..." He paused. "I used to think you were just another Peck, a suck up who was just going to bide time until you could be a lazy white shirt." Dov smiled at her as Gail flipped him off. "But I was the white shirt. And you ... You just took this weird left turn and suddenly you're in charge of all this."

Gail shook her head. "I like what I do. And I'm good at it," she added, frowning at them. Everyone was grinning at her. "What?"

"It's like marriage and motherhood defanged her," said Andy in a stage whisper.

"Don't get cocky just because you finally won a shoot, Girl Guide," snarled Gail. "I'm the ice queen of Fifteen and don't you forget it. You all work for me."

"You were saying," laughed Traci. "Come on, we have some crime to solve and those gun shipments aren't going to unstable themselves."

She was right, too. The amount of guns being sold to the two gangs had risen astronomically. Steve had been worried about it and was sure it meant there would be deaths soon. Having read his report, Gail was inclined to believe him. Gangs that didn't normally lean towards guns suddenly arming up was a concern.

"Where are we sending the rookies?" Andy pulled up the report on her laptop. All the fun projection toys were in Gail's office or Parade. Not even Traci had as cool a set up as Gail did. There were perks that came with her job.

"Two warehouses where we just want to monitor," explained Traci. "Half are over watching the Hills, half watching Rivers. Rotate 'em back and forth."

"Meanwhile," picked up Gail. "Fox, Blanchard, and Connor will take care of the real tricky places. Moore's on regular patrol around the bars they frequent."

Dov sighed. "They went fast from spiking each other's drugs to shooting."

Gail shrugged. "They haven't started shooting yet."

"They will." Dov was certain and so was Gail, frankly. "Three cousins, the grandkids of the Zanaros. That's insane."

"Gangs never make sense," Andy commented. "Did they really kill Anton Hill?"

"Dr. Van Lowe was his doctor." Gail stood up. "Pretty sure." They couldn't know for sure, not without another autopsy, and the Hills were never going to agree to that. "Anton Hill. The motive was funny, you know. His gang took over the power vacuum after Bobby Zanaro was gone." She looked out the windows and over the desks where people were hustling around. People including her daughter, who was in her vest and jacket, pointing at something. Sons and daughters. Parents. That was a thought. "He's still in WitSec," she noted absently.

The others stared at her. "What?" Traci broke the silence first. "Zanaro's in WitSec?"

"Yeah, Ollie and I arrested him... Jesus, I wasn't even dating Holly yet. Anyway, we picked him up and he went into protection. I think he's in Alberta." Gail looked over her shoulder and blinked at her friends. "What? I was just thinking maybe I should try to get the Mounties to talk him into coming here and he could talk down his kid."

Traci looked thoughtful. "That could be interesting. But he may want to team up."

"Yeah, considering he was ousted because of a ploy from the Hills." Gail sighed. "I hate motives like this. Complicated, stupid, revenge plots. Lacing drugs, stealing territory, murder, set ups, buy outs... Honestly, if they could manage to just kill themselves and not hurt any bystanders, I'd be happy to let them shoot it out."

Dov shook his head. "Just when I think she's changed, the Ice Queen comes back and reminds me she doesn't care about the little people." He smiled at her. She smiled back. They were old jokes, old jibes between friends.

But if they could manage to kill themselves and hurt no one else, Gail would be happy indeed.

"Is it weird to ask about your job?" Beth tilted her head as they walked to the gastro pub. The restaurant had been Traci's recommendation when Vivian gave in and asked for date advice. Her aunt was always good with that.

"Uh, provided you're not about to tell me you're into handcuffs, no. I don't think so."

Beth screwed up her face. "Oh god. Someone did?"

"I left without finishing my coffee," Vivian admitted. "Hi. Reservation for Peck." The hostess checked her computer and nodded, gesturing for them to follow.

"Reservations. Smart."

Vivian felt her face heat up. "My … my other aunt said it's really popular on week nights."

Beth grinned at her. "Rachel said you used your resources. I was trying to figure out what that meant."

"Oh, she meant I build a rocket out of junk." Vivian laughed as they followed the hostess to their table.

"A real rocket?"

"Real enough my Mom had to sit me down and explain what the law was about launching homemade rockets." Mostly that had to do with where the rocket might land. It was, for the most part, legal and fine to have done. Holly had been delighted and signed her up for a science club. And Rachel... Well the first rocket had landed on her car, shattering the back window, so she'd been significantly less delighted.

The hostess looked concerned. "Do you... Uh, do you want to make a drink order now?"

"Ice tea, please." Vivian grinned. Poor hostess.

"Same." Beth waited till the hostess left. "She's totally going to tell the waiter we were talking about rockets."

"I should trump that with a bomb story," Vivian said, conspiratorially.

Beth smiled and leaned in. "I had a lizard in a guy's leg once."

It took a moment for the words to arrange themselves properly. "Wait. In the leg?"

"Yeah! This guy had an alligator lizard on his leg, freaked out, and tried to stab it." Beth's eyes lit up and Vivian couldn't help but smile at the story. "And I guess lizards like holes, so it jumped in and got turned around. Every time we tried to pull it out, it bit at us."

The idea was so bizarre, Vivian laughed. "How did you get it out?"

"We called animal control and the woman just let it bite her finger so she could pull it out."

The waiter chose that moment to come by with the drinks. "I'll just give you a minute," he smiled, rushing away the moment the drinks were on the table.

They shared a look and broke out laughing. The rest of their dinner conversation went that way. They both shared a bit of a love for the bizarre and weird. Totally true stories of cops and nurses. As they walked back out into the cold January evening, Beth asked about her current work.

"It's boring. I'm on surveillance, which sounds cool but it means I sit for hours in a car and watch a building no one goes to, in order to make sure no one actually goes there."

"Can't tell me details, huh?" And Beth slipped her arm through Vivian's.

"Uh, no," replied Vivian. She was startled, but not unpleasantly. Beth was warm and funny and smart and soft.

The nurse smiled. "I can only get long sentences out of you if you're talking about work."

Vivian tried not to wince. "I'm not really that interesting."

"A sixteenth generation cop, gay, with two gay moms. Do you have any siblings?"

That was, weirdly, the first time anyone had asked her that. And Vivian didn't really know the answer. Yes. And, at the same time, no. "No," she finally said. But it felt strange. Wrong. Quickly, Vivian deflected. "You?"

"Three brothers. They're all older." Beth sighed. "You're lucky. They're such a pain in the ass." And Beth cheerfully told her about her brothers, how they used to pick on her and tease her. She'd been mad about dolphins as a girl, wanting to be a oceanographer, but her brothers had teased her by squeaking behind her at every opportunity.

It was a struggle to follow the story though. Vivian's brain was stuck on her sort-of lie. A sibling was a strange, nearly ephemeral concept to her, even now. She knew cousins, she had a lot of those thanks to Holly. But a sibling was a strange idea. She'd had one, she didn't now, and Vivian Peck certainly had none. Did saying no devalue the impact her sister had borne? Did it make her less real? Did it erase her?

Kicking herself, Vivian smiled. "That sounds like something my mom, Gail, would do."

"The squeaking?"

"She's a bit of an ass," admitted Vivian, smiling. "And a child."

They had reached the parking lot. "So." Beth let go of Vivian's arm and looked up at her. "I had a really nice time."

"So did I." Vivian scratched the back of her head. Third date. They'd kissed. She leaned forward a little. "I'm still on days."

Beth nodded and smiled at her. "I'm not, but." She bit her lower lip. "I have tonight off. Maybe... I could come over?"

"Ah, I have roommates." Vivian made a face. "Don't know if that's how you want to meet them."

The nurse looked confused for a second. "Oh. No, you know walking in and saying 'Hi, I want to bang your daughter' probably doesn't go over well."

"They wouldn't mind," said Vivian. "My Moms I mean." Beth gave her a dubious look and Vivian sighed. Yeah. That tended to kill things off.

"I would mind," said Beth decisively. "And while I also have a roommate, she's on shift tonight." Beth arched her eyebrows. "You could park your bike in her spot."

A slow grin spread across Vivian's face, warming her up. "I'd like that."

Beth grinned back and reached up, her fingers warm on Vivian's winter chilled cheek, drawing her down the few inches to kiss. "Tell me you have an extra helmet," she said softly.

"I do," Vivian replied, equally softly.

It was a slightly distracting ride to Beth's place, with the nurse's arms snug around her waist, but the parking was underground and dry, apartment was empty of roommates, and the evening was definitely promising. Beth gave her the two-cent tour before leading her down the hall to a small bedroom. It was a small apartment, not that it mattered.

Vivian had the foresight to tell her mothers not to wait up before she'd left for the date. That prompted Gail to teasingly remind her to use protection. Holly rolled her eyes and promised to sit on Gail if she panicked. Given Gail's reaction a few months ago when she'd thought Vivian hadn't come home, it felt wise to warn them. Certainly it didn't bother Vivian that her mothers knew she was hoping to get lucky.

Not that she thought about her mothers much at all for the next while. Beth was pleasantly distracting, in all the good ways. Shorter than Vivian (though at 6'1", who wasn't?), rounder, and softer, Vivian found Beth to be positively delectable.

Beth also fell asleep after, a smile on her face.

Oh, how Vivian envied that. She closed her eyes and tried to relax in Beth's bed, but her body tensed every time sleep tried to wrap it's tendrils around her. Reluctantly, at one, Vivian slid out of the bed and into her clothes. Beth didn't even stir. Leaving a note on the night stand ('Had to leave for early shift. Didn't want to wake you. I'll call you.' - that wasn't needy, right? Or pushy? It was hard to tell sometimes.), Vivian let herself out and went home.

Holly put nicknacks in a box and sighed. Would it feel weird when she retired? Noelle wasn't that much older than she was, all things considered. They had daughters the same age. But here was Noelle, retiring. And Frank would be retired by the end of the year too. They were done.

"Thank you for doing this," said Noelle as she put her things in another box. "Everyone else is useless."

"Gail never helps anyone move," remarked Holly. "She barely helped herself move in with me, or us move in to the house. I think she only helped with the house because Vivian shamed her." The then six year old had frowned deeply and asked Gail if she was hurt.

"Gail is Gail," Noelle said, laughing. "Once she found her groove, she just marched to the beat of her own drummer."

Holly smiled. That was very true. Gail was her own person and liked it that way. And Holly was rather fond of the person whom Gail had become. Funny, smart, goofy, acerbic. Wonderful. A little prone to ignoring their diets, but Gail still had the metabolism of a teenaged boy. "I wish I'd know awkward rookie Gail," said Holly, wistfully.

"Suck up Peck? Nah, she was too bratty, even for you."

"I'd believe it." Holly had heard stories. "She's still pretty bratty and impetuous."

"Very toned down," Noelle said firmly. "Gail used to try so hard to be what she thought she was supposed to be."

That Gail was the one Holly had met. Struggling and failing and miserable and angry and then, all of the sudden, hers. "It worked out in the end."

"It usually does. I don't think any of us saw ourselves where we are, though."

Holly smiled. "I did. I bet Viv does too."

The older woman sighed and glanced out her door. "Your daughter makes me feel old."

"She's excellent at that, isn't she?" Holly grinned. "Liv makes me feel old. She's so energetic." Holly paused. "How's she doing in San Diego?"

"She's loving it. Sends me pictures all winter of the beach." Noelle rolled her eyes. "I'm taking a vacation down there in March."

The idea of spending winter at the beach was interesting. Holly hated the effect the seasons had on her, but she loved the winter. "Think you'll stay in Toronto?"

Noelle looked thoughtful. "Sophie's moving back. My sister is here. Probably. But Frank's family is south and there's that too. We're both going to be retired by end of the month."

And that was an even odder thought. "I think I'd get bored," said Holly, finally. "I mean... I like my job."

"So do I, but I'm tired of it." Noelle put the last of her desk items in the box. "Can you check that drawer?" As Holly did, she asked a simple question. "Don't you get tired?"

"Yes. But that's when I write an article or go speak somewhere." Holly pulled out a stack of files. "Forget something?"

Noelle winced. "My unsolved cases." She took half the stack and flipped through. "They're all dupes, but some of these I should return."

"Are you allowed to keep them?"

Waggling her hand, Noelle made it clear that it was a 'no but yes' kind of answer. "I can be. If Gail or some of the other Inspectors signs off."

That was easily done. "Gail would." To this day, Gail still felt like she owed Noelle and Frank for adopting Sophie. The girl had taken the last name of 'Best' in her early teens. Noelle had mentioned she might after retiring, but everyone at work had known her as Williams, and so she'd kept her maiden name.

"Yeah, she would. Can you put those in the box?"

"Sure." As she put the files in the box, Holly lingered over the last. It had Wanda's name on it and was not a duplicate. They labeled those differently. "Noelle, is this supposed to go back to the lab?"

Noelle looked over, surprised. "Oh that's the DNA results of a gang killing. The courier was supposed to take that."

Holly grinned. "I'll take it back then."

The older woman shook her head. "One day you'll tell me why you and Gail think making jokes about couriers is so damn funny."

Smiling, Holly shook her head. "I can't believe this is it. Your last week." She looked around the office.

"It has to be my last week some time." But Noelle looked a little sad as she closed the last box.

Later, as she walked though the lab, Holly flipped open the report to see where it should go. It was by accident that she actually looked at the results on the page. Two contributors. Both female. One with a familiar result. Weird. Why would that be familiar?

Once, a long time ago, she'd sarcastically asked Gail how good she was at identifying short tandem repeats by hand. As it happened, Holly was very good at it. She'd been doing it more than half her life, after all. Even so, after the millions of lab results, after the billions of tests run, she had no business remembering one specific result. That was Gail's knack.

And yet she knew that weird phenotype. It wasn't rare so much as uncommon, though Holly knew not to tell Gail that semantic as that would just get her wife riled up. Except it was uncommon and Holly had seen it. Recently.

Detouring, Holly went up to her office and pulled up the cases she'd worked on in the last year. Nothing. Holly closed her eyes and tried to visualize the blood. It wasn't a autopsy or a case she'd caught in the last year. She'd been showing it to Swarek. Why? He was related to Gail's case about the Rivers and Hill gangs.

White whale. That's what Andy had said. Anton Hill was Sam's white whale. Hill was dead, which was why his gang was up for grabs and why the Rivers groups were hounding them, playing all sorts of ... It was wrong to say 'tricks' but that's what they were doing. They were playing tricks on each other. Evil, death tricks. But tricks.

Holly tapped the keys and pulled up Anton Hills' file. Heart attack. Probably induced but that wasn't her case and now they would have to exhume. Holly scrolled down and stared at the blood work. Phenotype. She snatched the the report and stared at them in turn. "Fifty percent familial match," she muttered.

The case was for blood found at the site of the Rivers Gang's distribution point. Holly's hand shook as she pulled up the information she had on Bobby Zanaro. This was the longest shot ever. But it was a familiar match. Cousins. Maybe a nephew. Or a niece.

Did they have... She tabbed through every person related to the case before feeling like a moron. Holly picked up her phone and tapped Gail's number.

"Hey, Dr. Hotstuff," said Gail a little saucily.

"Gail, I'm sending you some DNA results. Can you expedite the scan? I need to know who this is."

Gail paused before answering. "You know technically I can't if it's not my case, Holly."

"I think I found Anton Hill's kid. And they're related to the blood you found at the distro point."

The silence this time was poignant. "Holly. Are you serious?"

Holly smiled and hit send on the data. "The blood is also related to Bobby Zanaro, distantly."

Gail sucked in her breath. "You are the world's greatest forensic scientist in the universe, Holly Stewart. How the hell... You know what, tell me tonight. I've got the mail. If I need to, I'll get the fucking Mounties to expedite the shit out of this."

Of course, expedited in reality meant maybe she'd be lucky and get an answer by the morning. If only this was TV, Holly sighed, and filed the report with her own collection related to the Rivers case. Holly had always kept her own copies of weird cases. The stupid head bashed in case was still there.

She let her fingers run over the stack of unsolved cases. One day, when it was her turn to retire, she would have to let these go. But not today.

The thought had stuck with Vivian all day. Actually it had been there since the night before when Beth asked about her family, but her whole shift she'd thought intermittently about it. The rest of the time, Rich teased her for being so tired, and Vivian smiled, remembering the way she'd spent the night.

But still. After shift she skipped drinks with the gang to go home and hunt down her old photos. Vivian scoured the bookshelves in the living room and then her bedroom, but couldn't find the right one. So she went to the source.

"Mom, where'd you put the photo albums?"

Gail blinked and looked up from her laptop. "On the shelf downstairs."

"No, not ours… Uh. Where are the…" Vivian stopped and frowned. "The Green's."

Her mother looked at her for a moment. Gail was thoughtful and curious. "They're in the attic. Southeast corner. All of the… Everything we brought back is there. The albums are in the box labeled pictures, but I think they're mixed in with the framed ones."

Nodding, Vivian felt a little relieved that Gail didn't ask why. "Thanks."

With a return nod, Gail added, "Let me know if you can't find what you're looking for." And with that, the detective went back to her work.

Growing up with that much trust had always felt a little daunting. Like she knew her parents had a copy of the police report in the safe in their office. And Vivian knew that any time she asked, she'd be allowed to see it. They just … They trusted her. They believed in her as a person.

She headed to the attic and walked past the detritus of her childhood. Holly had kept all her sports uniforms (the ones with her name on them at least). Most of her clothes had gone to good will or the random grab bag of clothes the cops kept on hand for people. There were boxes, though, labeled with her name and her age.

Vivian smiled and opened the box from when she was eight and found the second grade section. She flipped through to find the class photo of her, Matty, and Olivia all hamming it up. There was an 'about me' story written in her childish scrawl, that said she was Vivian Green and she had two moms. There wasn't a lot of artwork in the early boxes. As she got older, she started to draw more, though that turned into technical diagrams.

It probably still drove Holly nuts that she was a cop even though she loved the mechanical engineering stuff too. Once Vivian caught wind of her mothers arguing about it. Holly had wanted to push Vivian into sticking with science and Gail said they should let her be who she was. Gail's point, which Vivian had not expected, was that her family forced her to be a cop, and while it worked out, she always wondered if she could have been anything else. Of course, Holly argued that maybe people really did need a bit of a push to see they could be more than just a cop.

That was when Vivian stopped eavesdropping and went out for a run. That kind of an argument was going to be messy and they were going to say the angry, mean, things they didn't really mean at all. But, having seen Aunt BitchTits make a snide blue collar remark at Gail, Vivian knew what came after 'just a cop.' It wasn't worth being around for.

By they time she'd gotten home that afternoon long ago, her mothers had been still grumbly but not arguing anymore.

Since she'd enrolled in the Police Academy, there had been no fights or arguments from anyone. Her job was expected and allowed and supported. Even by Holly. The fact that she had actually gotten a degree in mechanical engineering went a long way to peace in the house. And Vivian did love it. But she didn't want to spend her day behind a computer. That was what it boiled down to. She had to be active to feel like she was being useful.

Vivian made her way through the attic, past the memories of her childhood with Gail and Holly, and delved into the deeper part. There were five boxes. They'd taken three from her grandparents' house. The other two were what social services had collected from her parents' house. Those were the two boxes she was after.

Someone (probably Holly) had carefully stored everything in special kind of box, the sort that wouldn't cause paper to degrade or lose it's ink. Vivian didn't have a single memory of them. She couldn't remember the contents. She wasn't sure she'd ever known them. But she knew that the photos she wanted had to be there.

Running her hand over the top of the box, Vivian careful lifted it off and put it down, sitting cross-legged in front of the box. Atop everything was a piece of paper, folded, with the word 'Inventory' scrawled across it, in Gail's hand.

Of course.

She unfolded the paper and saw an inventory, as precise as the kind she was made to do when it was her turn to work in the evidence room. Vivian smiled and shook her head. Her mothers made a team. Holly would worry about contamination, Gail would worry about it being catalogued properly.

The paper listed a photo album as 'Childhood photos: 3(?) - 6' and another as 'Family: pre-birth - 3(?)' and then a list of framed photos. She hesitated and scanned the list of frames until she saw Kimmy's name.

Kimberly Anne Green.

Because contrary to what she'd told Beth, she did have a sister. Once.

Vivian swallowed and pulled the frame out of it's place to look at. It was a posed photo of Kimmy as a baby. Safe. She smiled and traced her fingers over the fat cheeks and brown curls. Curious, she looked on the list to see if there was one of her, but nothing was listed. Odd. And there were no group family photos of them all, not like this. Maybe this was her maternal grandparents' doing. She'd never known them, but they had known Kimmy.

Putting the frame back, she re-read the list for other photos of her sister. Someone had organized them into a packet, it turned out. Vivian pulled that out and smirked. Gail had written 'Misc. Photos of Kimberly' and nothing more in her distinctive 'work' handwriting (Gail had appalling handwriting). When she opened the packet, the photos were organized by date, mostly. Some were in the wrong order, but as Vivian careful fixed that, she was struck by something.

The only reason she knew they were out of order was because she remembered. The photo of tiny, grumpy, Vivian and not much bigger Kimmy wearing toques was from early spring, not fall, and it was when they'd gone to some small fair. Not in the city. It was just outside. The drive had been nauseating and long. Bumpy, because her father had driven erratically. Vivian had gotten car sick and complained. Her father had smacked the steering wheel and shouted at her.

Vivian sighed and flipped past that photo. She kept flipping, looking for something else. Something happier. Something... There. It was her sister at eight, almost nine, the end of the summer before she died, sitting on the back stairs with an ice cream cone. It was messy, all over her shirt, but Kimmy was laughing. She was on that edge of childhood, that moment where she was starting to look like herself. The roundness was just starting to fade away. Not chubby, and small just like Vivian had been at that age.

It was strange. Vivian was older than her sister. But Kimmy would have been twenty-nine now, had she lived. She would have been the age of Gail when she joined Major Crimes. She would have graduated college, maybe started a family, maybe moved away. Maybe Kimmy would have run away. Maybe they both would have.

Instead, Kimmy was nine. Forever. She was always the nine year old who shared her bedroom, who would creep into Vivian's bed to sleep with her when Viv had been little. She'd been the big sister who covered her little sister's ears when their parents had fought.

Vivian sighed and put the other photos back, keeping that one, happy, picture out. She carefully boxed everything back up, placing the inventory note on the top, and closed it, sliding the box back into place. Standing back up, Vivian looked around the attic and spotted a box labeled with the name 'William Peck.'

If anyone understood the ability to love and hate at the same time, it was Gail. Because she'd said, many times, she still loved the parts of her father that had been kind and caring. But Gail hated the man who'd cut her out, and Steve, and was unable to see past his name to love his own children. While Vivian was curious to know what was in that box, what memories Bill saved, it felt like an invasion of privacy to look.

True, her parents knew the secrets of her own past. They probably knew more than she did. But they had a right to look. Bill Peck, all the Pecks, they were her family and maybe she had a right to look, and maybe she had a sense of wonder to know, but more than that, she felt like she had a responsibility not to look without letting her mother know.

Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

As she came back downstairs, the office door was closed and Vivian could just make out the sound of Gail talking about a case. She couldn't ask Gail about a frame, so Vivian went to her room and scrounged about for an empty frame. Finding none, she brought the photo downstairs for a size reference and looked to see if Holly was there.

Her doctor mother was listening to music and dancing a little as she put dishes away. Vivian covered her mouth and smiled as Holly sang along to a disturbingly perky pop song. Off key. Badly. "Oh my god, Mom," she said, laughing.

"Jesus!" Holly startled and dropped a plate, which bounced and skittered across the floor. "The hell! Do you get sneaky creeper lessons at the academy?" Holly pressed a hand to her chest.

Vivian laughed more and picked up the plate. "You are so oblivious when you're concentrating."

"Screw you." But Holly was smiling and blushing. "Thank you," she added, taking the plate and washing it by hand. "What's that?" Holly pointed at Vivian's other hand.

She looked at the photo. "Do we have a frame this size?" It wasn't an answer, she knew that.

Holly looked thoughtful. "Probably in the attic. Did you ask Gail?"

"The office is closed."

Holly made an 'ah' sound. "Sometimes I wonder how we raised such a considerate kid." She tossed her towel onto the counter. "Regular photo. Regular photo. I really can't remember."

Nodding, Vivian realized she'd have to wait. "I'll put it in a book for now. I don't want it to get bent."

That caught Holly's attention. "Huh." Her mother walked over to the bookshelf and picked up a framed photo of herself, Lisa, and Rachel back in college. "Here." She popped the back and took out her photo.

Vivian hesitated. "I ... Um I want it put it in my room, Mom."

"That's fine. I think it's alright if three drunk girls in Florida goes into a scrapbook." Holly looked at it. "Most of college should go in a scrapbook. That was a million years ago." Holly looked fondly at the photo.

Taking the frame, Vivian slipped her photo in and stared at it. "Is this about the charity calendar you did, Miss May?"

Her mother's eyes bugged out. "How the..."

Vivian grinned, impishly. "It's in the office, Mom. I was going to run into it one day. Maybe innocently when I'm looking for your college yearbook? Or that degree you asked me to hang for you? You know the one you had in the green box?" Holly's face paled and then flushed. "After spending a minute trying to figure out why you had porn in there, I saw your name on the back."

Covering her face, Holly groaned. "This must be how Gail felt when you found the vibrator."

She patted her mother's shoulder. "Thanks for the frame."

Truth told, Vivian felt a little bad distracting her mother like that to throw her off the trail of what the photo was, but at the same time she wanted just this moment of privacy. Eventually her mothers would notice the frame on her desk. Vivian put it beside the one of her mothers and her at graduation.

She lay down on her bed and looked at the photos. Besides the framed ones, she had her digital frame that rotated through photos of her family and friends. There was even one of Matty and Tim Gunn. But that night she looked at the old print photo of Kimmy and her ice cream.

That night she thought about being a little sister and being an only child.

It had been a very long time since Gail had seen the photos that were spread on the bed. "Wow. Holly, I'm totally gay." She reached to pick up her favorite from the shoot, a picture of Holly, in the lab coat and her matching bra and pantie set, laughing as she held up a broken high heeled shoe.

There was something about the photo that she loved more than the affected sultriness. It was a moment of Holly, who laughed in awkward moments, and her raw beauty. Gail sighed softly. The laughter and the smile. That's why she loved it. Of course she reveled in Holly's body, but the smile. That make her heart sing.

"I cannot believe that's your favorite," said Holly, putting another stack of photos on the bed.

"I can see you naked whenever I want." Gail collected the soft-core porn photos. "But that smile? That laugh? I can hear it when I see this photo." She smiled. "Why are all your college photos out?"

"Your daughter wanted a frame, so I gave her the one from Florida."

Gail frowned. A frame. And she'd been asking about photos of the Greens earlier. Well if Vivian hadn't told Holly, Gail would keep that secret for now. "So you decided it was time to put drunk college Holly away?"

Her wife blushed. "Well. It was a long time ago."

Putting down the photos, Gail took Holly's hands and tugged her into a hug. "I think you're more beautiful than slutty drunk Holly."

That made Holly laugh, and she pressed her face into Gail's shoulder. "Slutty drunk Holly would have been all over you, you know."

Humming, Gail swayed a little, holding Holly close. "Stupid goth Gail would have been too scared and regretted it all her days." She nearly had avoided Holly after their coat room kiss. That had set so many weird thoughts in motion, including embarrassing dreams, that Gail's world had never been the same. And she didn't want it any other way.

Holly sighed and squeezed Gail tightly. "I feel old."

"You are. So am I." She stroked Holly's hair.

"Your idea of sympathy is pretty piss poor," remarked Holly, dryly.

Gail smiled. "It's better than the alternative." Her wife grunted an agreement. "Want cool science news?"

"Pluto's a planet again?" Holly sounded sad and wistful.

Laughing, Gail let go so she could kiss Holly's nose. "God, I love you, you great big nerd."

Holly wrinkled her nose up. "Damn. I hate that it's not a planet."

"I know, baby." Gail kissed her again. Holly had been despondent the night they'd confirmed the fact that Pluto was a planetoid.

They'd only been friends then, in that strange time after the chemical burn and before Holly's date at the Penny. She'd come over to watch a movie only to find a sobbing Holly at the door. Gail had never done well with crying girls, but there was something about Holly that prompted her to steer the doctor inside and let her wail about how it was really never going to be a planet again.

It was hilarious and tragic at the same time.

It may have been the exact moment she'd fallen in love.

"Okay," said Holly with a deep sigh. "What science coolness do you have?"

"We ID'd the blood sample."

Holly startled and leaned back. "Anton Hill's kid?"

"His daughter. Jackie Reynolds."

Holly's eyes widened. "The granddaughter?" With a smile, Gail nodded. "But... Her cousin might have killed her father..." Again, Gail nodded. "Give me your theory, Peck, I've got to hear this one!"

Letting go, Gail sat on the edge of their bed. "One. Bobby Blue has been trying to rebuild the gang in his father's name. Two. Blue got his cousins Spikes and Red in on it, knowing they too had fathers and grandfathers who were ousted back when the young guns tried to take over, back when I was a Uni." She held up three fingers. "Three. Blue arranged for the Fentanyl laced pot as a way for Spikes to slowly ramp up Anton Hill's chance of a heart attack. Four. Blue had no idea Red was Hill's daughter. Five. Red had been playing them all along, trying to take over for Anton Hill."

Her wife exhaled loudly. "Fentanyl could do that. In high doses, it induces heart attacks."

"See, I listen to you." Gail grinned and Holly gently shoved her head. "Where was I?"

"Australia," said Holly, flatly.

"Six! Guess who's been in charge of the money to get the guns?"

Holly's eyes were bright. "Red. Was she getting guns for both gangs?"

"Even better. She was using the money from the Rivers gang to fund Hill's. They've been pretty low key ever since Swarek started putting heat on 'em." Once Sam had moved to TwentySeven, they'd let him pressure Hill as much as he wanted. Jarvis and Oliver had always been a little more circumspect, but Gail had to admit that Sam had forced them to shut down a lot of their activities.

In a way, their current predicament, a headless chicken, was Sam's fault.

"How the hell did no one catch her?"

"It took a forensic accountant," Gail said smugly. That had been her idea. "We couldn't find anything on the Rivers, but once I had Red pegged as a double dealer, ba-boom, Hill's folks light up like goddamn Christmas. Holly Stewart, your wife is a bad ass."

And Holly giggled. "You're irreplaceable, unredeemable, and unique, Gail." She looped her arms around Gail's neck and shoulders to draw her into a kiss.

There was a knock on their doorframe. Vivian's voice, amused, cut in. "Hey, keep sucking face. I'm heading out."

Gail sighed against Holly's lips. "Have fun with Beth," she told her daughter.

"Have fun with Mom," said Vivian right back, sassy as ever, and she thudded down the stairs.

Gail closed her eyes and leaned against Holly, listening to Vivian's boots on the hardwood. Then the door to the garage. Then the garage door. Then the engine... The garage again. "She was so quiet," said Gail softly.

"She was tiny." Holly shared the same, soft, tone. "Scared. Did not like you having a gun." The arms around her shoulders tightened. "And then she grew up."

"I was mostly thinking she didn't start thudding down the stairs until we moved here."

Holly laughed softly and turned her head to kiss Gail again. "She really likes making noise," said the doctor. "I wonder ..." Holly trailed off and frowned.

Yeah. Had Viv's birth parents made her be quiet? Always they had fear and thoughts about a time they'd never know the truth of. "She's had a weird year."

"And now she has a girlfriend. Kind of." Holly kissed her again and let go. "Did you know she'd seen this calendar?" Picking up her charity calendar, Holly shook it.

Gail blinked. "I did not. How did ... Oh it was in the box, wasn't it?"

Her wife nodded and tossed the calendar into a new box on the bed. "These are going in my closet."

"Oh please!" Gail laughed. "Just put them in the office and label 'em as your college years. She won't snoop." She hopped onto the bed and scooped up the photos from the calendar shoot. "Okay. I have a suggestion. Collage of college."

Holly squinted. "Get all the great pics of me and BitchTits and make a giant photo with them to remember my wayward youth?"

"Something like that." She lay back on the bed and flipped through the other photos. "Damn. You know, if I'd seen this porn growing up, I'd have flipped for women way sooner."

Laughing, Holly collected her other photos and put them in the box. "Gail, they're not even soft-core porn. They're pin-ups."

"I'll have you know, I'm a police officer. I had to study porn."

And Holly laughed more. "You studied porn?"

Gail looked up. "Of course I did. How else do you think we know it when we see it?"

Holly stood there looking thoughtful. "Okay, I'll give you that one. So you studied porn and, to your experienced and practiced eye, is that porn?"

She looked at the photos again. "Well. A lot of it depends on intent. Did you intend for it to be titillating, Dr. Stewart? Was your goal to arouse?"

"Is that a legal definition?"

"If they were an accident, or a happy circumstance, they're just photos. But." Gail sighed and flipped to another photo. In this one, Holly was leaning forward with her glasses low on her nose, her cleavage peeking over the microscope, the lab coat pushed up over one hip, showing off lace panties that Holly rarely wore, even back when they'd been dating. It certainly aroused her. "This looks like porn. Intent, result."

The bed dipped and Holly sat on Gail's upper legs. "Result, huh?" Gail looked over the top of the photos at her wife. "But was it my desired result?"

"You want to try and argue the intention here wasn't to turn people on?"

Holly smiled. "Technically it was to make money."

"Uh huh. For money." Gail smirked and flipped to yet another photo. "May I present evidence for my case? Exhibit B." She flashed the photo of Holly adjusting her breasts. "An outtake, she claims."

"I wasn't compensated monetarily for my time," said Holly, and she pushed the photo down with one finger. "Are you going to look at those all night?"

"Well they're really hot, Holly. I mean, you're sexy as hell."

"I could offer an alternative." As Gail looked up to ask what that might be, the words fell out of her brain. Holly was unbuttoning her shirt. Slowly.

Her mouth went dry. Other parts went decidedly not dry. "Hello," said Gail. She looked at the reveal of Holly's bra (more practical and utilitarian than her picture) and compared it to the photo. Okay. Fine. She compared the breasts themselves.

Holly smiled and shrugged her shirt off. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Gail smiled back and put the photos on her nightstand. Reality was so much better than the photos. It wasn't just because she could touch Holly either. She loved how amazing young Holly looked. The perkiness, the shapeliness of her in her twenties and thirties (and forties) was different from the fifties and soon to be sixties. But God. Holly was totally her thing.

Reaching up, Gail tugged Holly by her waist, pulling her down. The result of Holly with her shirt off was better than photos of Holly with her shirt off. Her skin was so much more alive and vibrant than you could capture in a photo. And the fact that detective, crime solving, Gail Peck turned Holly on was one of the best benefits of that gold badge.

A few hours later, Holly was sound asleep and Gail was wired. Not wanting to wake up her wife, Gail curled up with her laptop on the office couch and went over the case notes. She wrote up an idea for Chloe to get her CIs to make Red nervous, and Steve to get his to make the Hills suspect. There were a lot of other smaller cases going on as well. Not all needed her supervision, but she was still expected to know the details on all of them.

The sound of the garage door startled her out of the deep dive into a case about a bribe. A few moments later, a much quieter Vivian came up the stairs. There was a creak of a door and then a shoeless daughter came into the office. "Hey, Mom. Everything okay?"

Gail smiled. "You are a very strange and wonderful child, Viv."

Her daughter screwed up her face. "Mom's dead asleep and you're up working."

And Vivian knew that could mean a few things, one of which being Gail had a nightmare. And if it was that, Vivian often knew, and always would stay up with her. Because that was the kind of child they'd raised. "Nah, I'm just a little wired." Gail closed her laptop. "How was the date?"

Vivian shrugged. "I thought it was going okay." She leaned in the doorway, reminding Gail of her brother and how he would frame a door. Or maybe that was how she looked, and Vivian was mimicking her.

"Okay doesn't sound great."

"I don't think it is. She gave me a look when I left."

Gail glanced at the wall clock. It was two. Then she studied her daughter. "Not spending the night, huh?" Morose, Vivian shook her head. Whatever was going on up in her kid's brain, the girl didn't want to talk about it yet. So Gail smiled and made the offer she'd always made to her child, from the time she'd been six and silent. "Well. If you can't sleep, we can play some Mario Kart."

A slow smile crossed Vivian's face. Relief. It was a familiar moment for them both, clearly. "I call Bowser," she said, turning to go back downstairs.

Some things didn't always need to change.

Ugh.

That was not a great way to start her shift. She'd only had a few hours of sleep anyway, having played Mario Kart with her mother for an hour after getting home. Then she got up and went running with her other mother. Probably not the best choices.

"What's wrong?" Lara glanced over as Vivian tapped on her phone.

"I just got dumped."

The other cop startled. "In a text? Are you sure?"

Vivian nodded. "Pretty sure 'I think we should see other people' is code for 'I'm not that into you.'" She had replied, just asking if Beth wanted to talk about it. The next reply of 'Not really' was fast enough that Vivian was certain she was, once again, single. Ugh was the only possible reaction.

"Seriously? She said that?"

"Yep," said Vivian, and she popped the P loudly like Gail did and like Holly still hated. "Fuck it, I'm ignoring my phone today." Vivian turned the sound off and shoved it in her thigh pocket.

Lara shook her head. "Jesus. I thought maybe dating women would be easier since, you know, you're both women."

Vivian looked out the window of the car. "I don't have a comparison. I went on one date with a boy when I was twelve." Absently, she wondered how he was.

"How'd that work out?"

With a shrug, Vivian pointed out the obvious. "Lesbian."

Her partner laughed. "Fair enough. I guess people are people."

"You sure you're a cop?" Vivian grinned as Lara laughed again. She liked working with Lara. Of all the rookies, she felt like Lara could be a really good friend. Of course she adored Christian, but they were friends of long circumstance and coincidence. In a weird way, they had too much in common.

She did have another good friend. Matty. It was impossible to save someone from a beating and not be his friend forever. But Matty was in New York City, studying at Parson's School for a Design, and dating an opera singer. His dream was to be a costume designer for the opera. His boyfriend, whom Vivian had met over video chat a few times, was totally smitten with Matty, and kept agitating that they should come visit. They talked a lot, but …

It wasn't the same, having one best friend in New York and happily dating, and the other in San Diego. Also happily dating and really not her best friend at all anymore. Apparently Olivia's mother didn't even know, which was all the more galling. Vivian had tried hinting that Olivia was seeing someone and Noelle had just looked confused. A secret boyfriend whom Olivia was serious about, and yet not someone she wanted to tell her parents about.

"People are confusing," she said to Lara.

The other cop nodded. "Sure as hell they are." They rode in silence for a few blocks. "What's it like having parents who are married forever?"

Vivian blinked. "Is that really weird?"

"Yeah. Jenny's parents divorced when she was a kid. Rich's were never married. Christian said his weren't. My mom is my step-mom."

"You do know I was adopted, right?"

"Yeah, and your moms have been married for like a million years."

Okay. That was true. "Twenty." She leaned back and studied the road. "They'll be twenty years this spring."

Lara looked surprised. "No shit? That's amazing."

"I guess it is." Vivian pointed at the light. "Take the next left. There's construction."

"Huzzah for another day sitting and watching an empty building all day." Lara took the turn and then the next and then they parked across the street from the empty warehouse.

"Huzzah," said Vivian. She picked up the car radio. "Dispatch, 1513. On site at warehouse on Kent. Nothing to report." Dropping the radio, she slouched in the seat. "We can't even keep the heat on."

The both hunched into their coats and sighed. "This is so boring. Why did I think being a cop would be cool?"

Vivian grinned. "You watched TV." She blew on her hands and pulled her gloves on. "Mindless procedure is the hallmark of our career."

Lara sighed. "We're on surveillance."

Holding up a finger, Vivian pointed out the obvious. "Of an empty building that isn't even a real target. It's just a satellite location, which means it doesn't matter."

The other cop scowled. "You're ruining my dreams that this will be the real meet point. I mean, Three Rivers owns the building, right?"

"They own a bunch of buildings. We're rookies. We're here to put the pressure on while ETF and the Ds and the experienced cops kick in the real doors in a couple days."

"You sound jealous," said Lara, knowingly.

In truth, Vivian was. She really liked the work that ETF and Sue Tran did. "Gotta walk before we can run, Volk."

"Avoiding the subject."

"Yeah? You taking the courses to be a D now that we're cut loose?"

Lara smirked at Vivian. "You are way too sharp."

"I can smell it on you. Cheap suits. Take out food."

"Oh! And what about you?"

Vivian smiled. "You tell me."

That quieted the other woman for a while. "I think you're a secret adrenaline junkie. And you're going to run into buildings because they make more sense than people. Especially girls who dump you by text."

The first new frame in the bedroom was hilarious and perfect. It was one of the trite frames that held multiple pictures, and Gail had filled it with some of Holly's favorite photos from college. It was a college collage. Just like she'd joked she was going to do. It was beautiful and a wonderful reminder of what she'd been.

But Gail had also put up a collection of photos of herself. Backpacking in Europe, a glamour shot from something or another, and a few goofing around with her friends from Fifteen. It was less college style than Holly's, but Gail hadn't come out of her shell until she was a little older.

Holly ran her fingers over the pictures, hanging now above their dressers, and smiled. Sometimes people asked if Gail was romantic and did things like surprise her with flowers or a special cooked meal. Sometimes Gail did. She loved cooking. But that wasn't romantic to Holly at all. No, romantic wasn't going up to the cabin for a long weekend of enjoying each other and quiet, either.

Romantic was Gail taking an hour or two out of her hectic day, planning a massive gang related op, to make something special for Holly. Romantic was Gail doing this when she was distracted and still thought about Holly.

"You are such a cheese puff, Gail." Holly shook her head, smiling, and turned to strip the sheets off the bed. The towels went into her pile as well, and then she went for the guest room. It was used often enough to justify keeping it as a bedroom. But that meant they had to wash the unused linens once in a while. Holly tossed those sheets and towels into the pile in the hallway and then went into Vivian's room.

They used to always do laundry on Saturdays, but with Vivian's schedule it was getting harder to dedicate a day to clean as a family. Vivian's room showed that more than any other place in the house. The bed was unmade, the desk a mess of whatever she was working on for fun, and her bathroom ... Well.

Holly sighed and folded the quilt, a present from Lily, putting it in the window seat, before stripping the bed, collecting the towels, and tossing all of that into the hallway. She wasn't about to clean her daughter's room. The last thing she wanted was to find her kid's porn or worse. But she was going to leave a note. She looked for a pen and paper and found, instead, a familiar photo frame with an unfamiliar photo of a girl.

It was Vivian, except not Vivian. The face was different. Wider. Softer cheekbones. Curlier hair. Darker skin. Where Vivian had a mere suggestion of First People in her genetics, this girl had a clear certainty. But she looked incredibly like Vivian at about eight years old. The girl was sitting on a step Holly didn't recognized, eating an ice cream cone, smiling. Happy.

The realization that it was Kimberly, Vivian's sister, in the photo hit hard.

Holly had to sit down.

When did that happen? When had this photo appeared? Of course. This was why Vivian had wanted the frame the other day. "Honey," she said softly and picked up the photo.

Vivian had slogged through a pretty tough year. Had she remembered more and not told them? Holly could only remember a few times that Vivian had asked about her old photos or asked to look at them. She'd always seemed so firmly dedicated to shoving her old life away. But here it was on display.

Wiping her eyes, Holly put the frame back. There was nothing she could say about this. She couldn't tell Vivian she'd seen the photo. She didn't know if she should tell Gail. They tried to respect Vivian's privacy like she was anyone else and not someone they worried about and wanted to make life better for.

Something was going on with their daughter. Something was changing, for better or for worse. Beyond just growing up and becoming independent, Vivian was looking at the world different and thinking differently. Slowly, she was stepping away from them and carving out life the way she wanted to live it. Things were going to be different in the end, and Holly just couldn't tell where it would end.

She couldn't answer that right now. All Holly could do was start a load of laundry for her two hard working cops, knowing they'd do the same for her when her cases consumed her.

That's what family did. The little things.

"Dispatch, 1513 on location. Trinidad warehouse. Nothing to report." Rich grumbled as he put the radio back on the hook. "We're not going to be involved in the takedown at all."

Wearily, Vivian repeated the same thing she'd told everyone. "We're rookies, Rich. We're not supposed to be involved in shit like that."

"We haven't even gotten to do undercover work for real!"

That was true. "You really want to prove you can do UC by dressing up like a rent boy?" Rich startled and stared at Vivian. "What? You didn't know that's first? Since no one knows us, we'll get sent out to places and try and catch people. It's a first-run, make sure we can do well outside our comfort zone." She yawned and stretched in the car. After that came being dropped off in the middle of nowhere and making it back with their wits and as much illegal crap as possible. Gail still hated that she hadn't been able to do that.

"Shit. Prostitutes?"

Vivian smiled. "You thought there was something glamorous in UC? After this shit for a week?" She gestured at the boring warehouse in front of them. "We're watching an empty warehouse."

Rich scowled and sulked in his seat like a child. "It doesn't make sense."

"Which part? Hookers or empty buildings?"

Gesturing with both hands at the building, Rich said, "This! Anyone could do it! We're highly trained police officers."

Vivian couldn't stifle her laugh. "No we're not. We're rookies, Rich! We're the 'anyone' of Fifteen. We're the monkeys who do the shitty scut work."

He folded his arms and scowled. "It sucks. I don't like it. They put me in charge of this shit."

That was true. Andy had put Rich in charge of the patrol. His job was to determine when they went on a drive around, when they checked various things, and so on. It wasn't a real 'in charge' deal, they all knew that, but it made him feel better. "You got an idea?"

He didn't answer. Right. Vivian leaned forward and watched the building. Nothing was going on. Nothing was ever going on. Eventually Rich's watch beeped. "Drive around. Go that way," he said and pointed to his right.

"Sure." She started the car and made a slow patrol before returning to their spot. Secluded. A good vantage point. They spent the next three hours in silence. They made the same patrol three times. That was when they both saw something odd.

"Is that 1504?" Rich leaned forward as he asked.

Vivian was staring right at it. "Yeah... It has the dent where C spun out." That had been last week, and was why he was stuck on desk duty. "I can pull in there, it's got enough room for both."

Nodding, Rich sighed. "Fuck, are we at the wrong building?"

"Dispatch would've said," she said, though she was uncertain. Dispatch should have already told them at least that there was someone else around.

Both Lara and Jenny in 1504 were equally confused. "No one said you'd be here too. That's really weird." Jenny reached for the radio in her car.

"Hang on," said Rich. "What if this is a test? McNally's new as the Staff, right? She could be feeling us out. See how we follow directions. How we think independently. Do we make the right decisions?" He pivoted and looked at Vivian. "They do shit like that, right?"

She hesitated. Gail would. Gail would give her enough rope. She always had been the kind of parent who let Vivian find her strengths, make mistakes, learn from them. Everyone was looking at the legacy Peck. "Yes," Vivian said slowly. "They do. Sometimes."

Rich looked excited and that made Jenny and Lara grin. "So this? This is our test. It's gotta be!"

Vivian frowned. "I ... I don't know, Rich."

"Hey, hey, they put me in charge of buildings, right?" When she nodded, he went on. "They didn't do that before."

That was also true. "Okay. Okay, just for a second let's say you're right, Hanford. What do they want us to do? Watch and not trip over our own feet?"

"Watch and be invisible and not trip over our feet." Rich looked around and then darted into their cruiser, pulling up a map. "Okay, I got an idea. Peck, c'mere." He showed her the map and explained his idea for how to patrol without crossing paths or looking too obvious. It was, Vivian had to admit, not stupid. Every second sweep, they'd meet back up here and talk. Keep it off the radios.

And that was how they did it.

They did two sweeps, met up, took turns for lunch, and then two more. They had two more sweeps before shift was over. Two more before freedom. Two more before she just fucking asked Gail if Andy was playing some stupid game.

Which was when they saw someone pull up to the building.

Vivian continued her drive by, casual as if nothing was odd at all. "Don't look," she told Rich. "Look in your side mirror."

Without moving her head, she let her eyes flick left and then up. She could see him clearly in her mirror. Bobby Blue Zanaro Jr. "Is that..."

"Yep. I'm going to lose him when I turn. Can you see him?"

"He went in the building."

Crap. "Okay. We'll be able to see him from our spot. If he goes before then, though, we might miss it."

"Gotta chance it, Peck."

"I'm just saying. I don't like the odds." But she kept the car going as normal, around the block, down, turn, slow for the stop. Check the street... Steal a glance at the parking lot. He was still there. The next turn took the car out of sight for five minutes. Five long minutes. Rich's plan didn't have full coverage of the lot. It was better than one car alone. But.

She pulled into their shared surveillance spot, trusting Jenny was smart enough to do the same.

"Gone." Rich got out of the car as soon as they stopped. "He was still inside when we lost sight. I had maybe ten, thirty more seconds than you did."

Vivian got out of the car and leaned on it. "Four minutes, thirty seconds unaccounted for."

"You sound like a D."

She glanced at him. "I listen." She turned her full attention to the where the car was. The ground was damp from the recent weird thaw they'd had. Much of the snow had melted away. You could hear gravel underfoot. What would that mean? Vivian was still thinking about it when 1504 pulled in.

Rich pounced. "Did you see when he left?"

"Yeah," said Lara, getting out. "When did he go in?" Vivian told her the time. "Okay. He was in for three minutes and maybe twenty seconds? What the hell can you do in three minutes?"

You could do a lot. Rob a bank. Jack a car. Kill someone. Vivian frowned.

Rich, on the other hand, grinned. "Let's find out."

She stated at him. "Are you insane? We call this shit in!"

"Hey. I'm in charge, right?" Rich puffed up his chest and Vivian gagged. But he was. "That was that Blue guy, alone. He went in, he did something, he left. We should check it out."

Vivian hesitated and then frowned more. "We should call it in. We're supposed to be watching, not haring off."

"Do you always do what you're told?"

She frowned more but locked the cruiser and put her keys safely in her pocket. "Fine. But this goes ass end up, you're in charge," she told Rich.

"That's my girl!" He clapped her shoulder. "Volk, Aronson. You guys go around the side. Peck and I will take the door Blue went through."

This felt like a phenomenally bad idea. She checked her gun and pulled out her flashlight. They quietly walked to the door and Rich tried it. Locked. He backed up, as if to kick, and Vivian stayed his hand. "Honestly, you might as well set up a bat signal, idiot."

"You have a better idea?"

Tucking her flashlight under her arm, Vivian pulled out her keys. She picked the bumper that looked closest and slid it in. Calmly she wiggled it and then tapped with the butt of her flashlight. Another wiggle, another tap and then the lock clicked. Smiling, she turned the key and opened the door. "Technology, Hanford."

Rich looked impressed. "That was seriously cool."

"You should see what I can do with an RC car." She tucked the keys away and let Rich go in first. The room was empty but they both drew their guns and carefully swept the area. "Clear." Except for the wood and metal crates. Which didn't make sense. It was supposed to be an empty warehouse.

"Clear," confirmed Rich. The other door opened and they swiveled, but it was Lara and Jenny.

"Door was locked," said Jenny, holding up her picks. "Clear over here too." They all holstered their guns. "I thought this was supposed to be unused."

Rich walked around the boxes. "This is weird." He reached for a box and then hesitated. "What if it's a bomb?"

Vivian tilted her head and squatted by the box. Bomb in a wood box, set to go off when the lid was opened. "He wasn't here long enough to set that up. Takes a couple hours to get it right. And quick and dirty would show signs on the lid." She carefully studied the lid of two boxes. "The metal ones are possible. But those are the size of ammo cases." Feeling the confidence that came with knowledge and experience, Vivian carefully took the lid off.

They all stared. "Holy fuck."

"Mother of god," whispered Lara. "Those are not legal."

Racks and racks of semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons. Vivian looked at the ammo boxes. "Crap on a cracker," she said. They opened another crate and found the same. Slightly different but the same. Jesus. "Uh, this we should call in."

"Ya think?" Rich reached for his radio when they all heard a car pull up on the gravel.

"Shit." Jenny pulled the lid back in place. "Can we make the door?"

"Unlikely," said Vivian, running the calculation in her head. "They'd see us getting outside. Did you lock the door?"

Jenny nodded. "Yeah, you?"

"Yeah." Vivian looked around, fighting to stay calm. Hide. They had to hide.

Lara was moving to the back. "Boiler room," she said, her voice a low hiss. They scrambled and squeezed in behind the body of a broken ... something. Vivian didn't recognize it. "If it's like last time, it'll be a minute, maybe two."

"Unless he came back 'cause he saw something the first time," Jenny said. She sounded scared. "Jesus. Did we just stumble on to a gang war?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," whispered Rich. "I can't hear them."

They all fell silent, trying to breathe as quietly as possible.

"What the hell is all this?" A man was shouting. "Jackie, this is our shipment. This is our gear. What the hell is it doing in a fucking Hill house?" Ours. That made him Blue? Probably.

"You don't know a god damned thing, Bobby." A woman. Angry. "I told you. I'm playing the numbers. That's why you tapped me. I know numbers." That meant she was Jackie 'Red' Reynolds for sure.

A third voice, a woman, cut in. "I told you the guns were a bad idea. We shoulda kept to the drugs."

"Because you know drugs!" Jackie again. "God, Veronica, you are such a tool. Thinking you're all awesome and special 'cause you're a fucking doctor! Jesus, what the fuck kind of nickname is Spikes anyway?"

That sounded like a long standing argument. And it escalated. Craning her neck, Vivian tried to get a good view of them. "Shit," she hissed, watching the guns come out.

Blue had his aimed at Red. "Why did you do it, Jackie? Huh? Ten years I've been planning this shit. Why did you pick them? We're blood."

Jackie's gun was aimed at Blue, as were everyone's from the Hill group. "So are they."

Veronica had no gun. She was staring at Jackie's face intently. "Anton..."

The gun on Jackie's hand wavered. It swung to Veronica and then back again. "Yes."

"Wanna explain that one, Spikes?" Blue shifted his stance. Centering. He was going to kill his cousin.

"You know the answer, Bobby," Veronica said softly. "You looked Anton Hill right in the eyes."

His head snapped to Veronica and then Jackie. Then he stared hard. "You didn't want us to kill him. You let us."

"No. I couldn't stop you, there's a difference, Bobby." She shifted her grip. "He knew, you know. He knew who killed him."

"You told him." Veronica wasn't shocked. She was sad. "Jackie. Why didn't you tell me? I would have..." She trailed off.

"You wouldn't. You couldn't." Jackie shook her head. "Same reason I didn't." Both women looked at Bobby.

Rich tugged her arm and mouthed 'can you hear them?' Vivian nodded and mouthed 'blackmail' back at him. As she turned back, Vivian saw Veronica walk over and stand beside Jackie.

"Bobby, I'm sorry," said Veronica, regretfully. "I never wanted to be a killer." She looked at Jackie. "Blood is thicker than water, Bobby."

"Well. That's just you then, Ronnie." And Bobby Blue's hand twitched and he shot his cousin, Veronica 'Spikes' Van Lowe, in the knee.

All hell broke loose. Both sides screamed at each other. Vivian swore and hunched as small as she could get, hating every inch of her six-one height just then. Behind her, Jenny spoke. "I'm calling this in."

"Wait," said Rich. "I'm in charge!"

Jenny snapped, "Well you're not doing your damn job, Rich!" She thumbed her radio. "4749, 10-33, shots fired. I repeat shots fired."

Vivian closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. They had a whole damn police force at their backs. All they had to do was wait. So what could they do now? They weren't taking fire yet, which meant the gangs were still shooting at each other and not them. Which meant… "Don't shoot back," she said quietly to the others.

"Are you actually insane?" Rich's face was pale.

"Yeah, I also don't want them to realize we're here." Vivian glanced around. "You get that, right? They're not shooting at us."

Jenny hissed. "You're saying we just watch them shoot the hell out of each other and do nothing? We're cops. We're supposed to stop that!"

"Jenny, there are at least twenty of them and four of us. They have automatic weapons. We have 23s. You called it in. Wait for orders." She turned and looked through a small space, trying to get a better view. "Because if they see us, we're dead."

There were perks to being the boss. There were perks to the future. Gail had her computer setup to alert her if anything triggered her complicated set of rules of whatever she was monitoring at the time, leaving her free to think while trusting the computer to ping her when needed.

Today, setup day, was a day she expected to be quiet. The empty warehouses were all being publicly and visibly monitored, flushing out any gang members. Increasing the watch on more places, the pressure on the Rivers was amped up. They'd all be driven to the Upper Don river, their currently HQ, and like a pincer the cops would descend and take them apart.

It was Steve's plan and it was a great one. He'd taken the news that Jackie 'Red' was double dealing surprisingly well. Better than Gail had in a lot of ways. Immediately Steve switched up his plans and got Chloe's UC ops start to shift the priority within a day. They dropped the whole 'cousins revenge' angle, even though they knew that Anton Hill had been the one who suggested the 'young guns' of Three Rivers oust all their older members. Instead they started to feel information, dropping hints that they knew Red was working with the Hills. They suggested to Blue and Spikes' crews that, maybe someone was a spy. Hadn't there been leaked information?

The plan was working perfectly so far. The Rivers Clan tightened up and Blue and Spikes were having 'secret meetings' all the time. Red was starting to notice, and in turn the Hill Gang was tightening ranks.

And the joke was on all of them because the cops had the gun warehouse in their sights.

Neither gang kept the guns at their main locations. Neither were known as gun gangs, as it were, so they had them in warehouses that Red had been in charge of. And Red had been shuffling the weapons back and forth to the point that probably only she really knew what was where. It looked like the Hills had more guns but the Rivers had more bullets.

It was really mind boggling, the levels and layers everyone was up to. Gail had to keep projecting the breakdown onto her wall to keep it straight, which John found hilarious. She was known for being able to keep the tangled motives and plans of criminals clear in her mind, and here Gail was a little swamped. Maybe it was old age. Maybe she was slowing down. Gail didn't think so.

No. She knew what she as doing and how to do it well. She had the plan to gate crash the Rivers/Hill little meeting tomorrow. The meeting where she expected everyone to break out into full blown warfare. And while Sue Tran's ETF nut jobs busted in on the meeting of heavily armed gangs, Fifteen would be picking up the Rivers gun warehouse and TwentySeven (led by Swarek) would grab the one for the Hills.

Of course it wasn't perfect, but, all of it was planned and crafted well. Gail had the utmost confidence in the plan. And none of it was supposed to be happening today. Tomorrow they were going to collect the idiots, go directly to Go, collect $200, and be fucking heroes for the city who never knew it was in danger all along. It was a plan that made her love her job.

So why was her computer pinging her all of the sudden? Why was Upper Don lighting up like a Christmas tree? Why was a kid's voice shouting at Dispatch about…

Gail stared at the radio app on her computer. That was Aronson's voice. Aronson was in Vivian's rookie class, the amusing and kinda slutty one who was also a legacy cop, but didn't tell anyone because her dad had done time for corruption. Jenny Aronson. She'd changed her full name at ten. Or had it changed. Gail remembered her entire jacket in one go.

"What the hell?" She surged to her feet and kicked her door open. "John! Where the hell are the rookies?"

Her sergeant and work husband looked startled. "They're at the warehouse on the Lower Don. What—" John stopped and tapped at his keyboard. "What the hell!? Where the — That's not right!"

"Some one screwed up big time, John. Those kids are at the hotspot! Shots fired. We've got to go now. Get Steve on the line. Go!" Gail turned back without waiting to see if John was in motion — he was, she knew it. She grabbed her gear, suiting up as fast as she could. The rote and rhythm of kitting up calmed her a little. It let her push the panic that her kid was there out of her head.

But then she picked up her vest and she stopped. Gail ran her hand over the front of her vest. This was her new vest, the new liner. They had all gotten new vests that year. When Vivian had gotten hers, her very own with her name stitched on it, she'd brought it to Gail's office and asked her to write something.

It was an idea Gail had gotten from Nick. He'd learned it from the military, writing weird messages. Like she'd seen his once, back when it said "Whatever happens, it was worth it" written down. He'd written that about Andy. The day he wrote that, she dumped him for Sam. And yet he lived with her now in the end. It was, he told Gail recently, all worth it. Everything.

In many ways, Gail had to agree that everything had been worth it. But for her daughter, who had written "Everything good I learned from my Moms" in her's, Gail knew what she had to say. It was four words. Four words that were incredibly Peck, but appropriate none the less. "Know who you are." That was it. Holly hadn't told Gail what she'd written, but Vivian showed her. "Think." That was very Holly.

This new vest of Gail's, though. She'd only worn it a few times, and she'd yet to have her family write in it. The drive to carry a piece of Holly's words around with her all the time seemed less important. Holly was indelibly a part of her now. Everything she was today was touched by Holly, and she didn't feel like a talisman was necessary.

Which meant Gail hadn't written anything either. And right now, for some reason, that felt horribly dangerous. Gail pulled the vest back off and rattled through her drawers. She knew she still had that pen in there somewhere from when Vivian had come in and, when she found it, she shook it hard. The ball rattled in the ink cartridge.

Then she wrote.

Plus Ones Forever.

As the ink dried, Gail texted Holly, letting her know she was going out to handle an incident, and she loved her. Her wife knew what that meant. It had been almost twenty-five years. Holly knew that Gail would only text if she had to go do something possibly dangerous, and it was never to scare her, but always to keep Holly aware.

It was a habit Vivian had picked up on and, before she went off on patrol, always texted her mothers to let them know she loved them. Sometimes Vivian's note was a little sillier (like "You guys were loud last night.") or she'd just use an emoji or two. But that message, that note that she was thinking of them never failed to be sent. Gail wondered when that would change. When would Vivian had someone else she found it more important to text instead of them? Would she?

That thought had to be shelved. Gail had bigger fish to fry, like making sure the rookies were safe and not exactly where she didn't want them to be.

Her phone beeped before she could turn off the sound. It was Holly.

Be safe, honey. I love you.

Gail smiled and shoved the silenced phone into her pocket.

Be safe.

She sure as hell hoped so.

Chapter Text

The gunshots ricocheted off the metal they were hiding behind and then stopped.

Okay.

It was terrifying. Vivian hunkered down and tried to think about something Gail might say in this moment. Something cutting, probably, or sarcastic. Mean. Gail would deflect her fear with bitchiness. That was something Vivian never mastered. "I have never in my life wished to be short," she muttered, mostly to herself.

Beside her, Lara hissed. "Shut up."

"I think they know we're here now, Lara," snapped Vivian. Oh look. There was her inner Gail.

"You're the one who said if they figured that out, we were dead," Lara replied.

Yeah. She had. Vivian sighed and made herself as small as she could and still look over at the gangs. It was a three way now, the gangs shooting at each other and, any time they moved, them. "If they decide to gang up on us, we still might be."

Rich, his face ashen, stared at his gun. "What do we do? We're not supposed to be here!"

There was that too. Technically Rich was supposed to be in charge of their little group. Clearly that wasn't working. "Jenny, check where they think we are?" It was starting to be a little long for backup to show up.

Jenny nodded and raised a hand to her radio. "Uh, Dispatch, this is 4749. Can you confirm where we're supposed to be?"

The somewhat familiar voice of Tassie, one of the dispatch coordinators, replied with an address. The address where they were. And then Tassie muttered, "Oh. Shit. That's the wrong location."

Jenny snapped, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Well that explains a lot." She thumbed her radio, "Dispatch, 4727. It's still a damn 10-33. We're taking fire now."

"How the hell are you calm?" Rich stared at her.

"I'm not," admitted Vivian. "I have no idea what the hell we're supposed to do. But screaming and crying and wailing isn't going to help." Like Gail often said, being calm in a crisis meant for a really fun break down later on. She did not enjoy the idea of that, given how soul sucking the shooting had been earlier.

"4727 and 4749, switch to alternate channel."

"Copy," replied Vivian, wondering who's voice that was. It sounded like Andy but it was hard to tell just then.

Lara asked, "What's the alternate?"

"Nine," said Vivian, confidently. She switched over and kept her voice low. "4727, Peck. We could really use you guys right now."

"I want a SitRep." That was John. Thank god.

Jenny hesitated. "I got it." When Vivian nodded, she replied. "This is 4749. We all ended up at the wrong building—"

"I got that from Dispatch, kid. What's your status?"

Jenny looked terrified. "Well. Taking fire off and on."

"Are both gangs there?"

"Yes, sir."

"Copy. Sit tight. Anyone hurt?"

"None of us, but Dr. Van Lowe got shot in the knee."

When Jenny paused, Vivian added, "By Bobby."

The pause from John felt like the one before he laughed at something malicious. There was a reason he kept up with Gail all these years. "Can you give me a visual?"

When no one else moved, Vivian swallowed her fear. Look up. She crouched and leaned her head around. "Simmons, I see ten from Hill and about the same from Rivers. The three ringleaders are having a standoff."

"Can you hear them, Peck?"

"Not right now. They were arguing about how Jackie's dad was Anton Hill, and the doctor, Veronica, was sorry and ... I think they're siding against Bobby."

"And they stopped shooting?"

"Yeah. They spotted us. Kind of." The gangs didn't actually know they were cops, which was to their advantage right now.

"Kind of?" John sounded skeptical.

"They're arguing over whose gang we're from," she explained.

"But you can't hear them now?"

"No they're too quiet— Wait, hang on." She grabbed Rich. "Read!"

"What?" He almost dropped his gun.

Jesus, Fear made people stupid. "Read their damn lips, Rich."

He stared at her, aghast. "You want me to stick my head out there?"

They all heard someone shout. "Who the hell is over there?"

Crap. Vivian tabbed her radio. "Yeah, yeah we can hear 'em again. They still think we're each other's spies."

"Any way out?"

"One door and they'll see us."

"Okay. Sit tight. Don't try and negotiate. We're coming up silent."

"Copy." Vivian exhaled and rested her head against the metal.

Rich was staring at her. "How are you calm?"

She was about to say she had no idea, but the thing was, Vivian did have an idea. Because logic had been simmering in her head for months. If she'd seen her father die, then she'd been the one who called 911. Vivian shook her head. Telling them she'd seen worse wasn't going to go over well. "They're coming."

"So are they," say Lara darkly.

Now they were in trouble. Vivian got to her knees and looked. Shoot or surrender? They knew backup was, really now, on the way.

"Who the hell is there?" Bobby stepped forward.

Rich apparently remembered he was in charge. "Police!" He rose partly, gun drawn and raised. "We have the building surrounded. Give up."

Oh fucking awesome. Now he could do something.

Cringing, Vivian drew her gun. Lara and Jenny were a heartbeat behind. Four rookies with 23s against … well it looked like fifteen gang members with semi-automatic weapons. What could possibly go wrong?

Holly knew better. She knew not to listen to the police radio. She knew not to look out at what Fifteen was doing. In twenty five years, in thirty years, she knew not to look. It would give her nightmares to be aware of everything the cops were doing every day. Yes, it was sticking her head in the sand, but that was how she made it through the day knowing people shot at the woman she loved.

It extended logically to her daughter. It was just better not knowing sometimes.

Still, when she stared at the request from Guns & Gangs at Fifteen, Holly's knee jerk reaction was to wonder about her wife and kid. "Benton, run that by me again." It was only from years of practice that she kept her voice still.

"The date got moved up to today. I know it's a rush but can you have some ballistics experts on hand? We're gonna have a lot to do."

The bust was moved up a day. Everyone knew Gail hated changes in schedule. That meant something was up. Holly looked up from her desk and over at where Fifteen sat in the distance. "Just ballistics?"

"Uh…" The tone told her everything she needed to know.

"Right. Three Divisions worth of evidence. Guns. Drugs."

"Possibly bodies."

And now Holly felt cold. "Possibly bodies. Thank you for the heads up." She hung up and covered her face. That was not good. She hadn't lived with cops for years not to know what the tone meant.

"Hey... Everything okay?" Rodney showed up and sounded worried.

"Has it occurred to you that we're too cavalier about these things?" Holly took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Like death? Sometimes." He came in, closing the door, and sat on Holly's couch. "I heard you were on the line with the Ds. Everything okay?"

Holly sighed. "I need you to stay late and cover the case."

There was a pause before Rodney spoke. "You know I was totally in support when you said we had a schedule and we'd stick to it, even if that meant we caught cases we hated when it was our turn..."

Sliding her glasses back on, Holly nodded. "I did. This happens to be Gail's case."

"Oh. That is ... Yeah." He paused and frowned. "Wait, is this the warehouse case?"

Holly blinked. "Yes. Why... How did you know that?" She hadn't mentioned it, and the case had been kept on the quiet even from her own assistant medical examiner.

"Uh, it's all over." Rodney got up and walked around to her side of the desk. "Can I?" She nodded and scooted back, watching Rodney pull up the details on police dispatch. "I know I'm not supposed to watch it, but you remember how we were talking about optimizing our roll outs and boosting efficiency?"

"Of course." Holly smiled a little. She'd given Rodney free reign on organizing his plan to streamline the lab's field deployments, to experiment and test. So far he'd improved their response time by almost half an hour on average. "Besides the obvious, how's that working out?"

"Not bad." He stopped and waggled a hand. "The problem is too much information. I started by trying to do something I know is stupid. I was trying to build a predictive model based on who was dispatched where."

Holly smirked. "That's never going to work."

"I know. Can't predict crime without the right data. It was all fake in Person of Interest. But. While I was doing that, I found out you could figure out what places the other cops thought needed attention. Based on the rookies."

The rookies? Holly didn't have to think about it at all. The idea bloomed in her head, fully formed, right away. "They don't send the kids out to the hotspots."

"Right. So I watched how Sgt. Epstein organized people. McNally's a little different, but it's the same idea."

"Which... Warehouses?"

"Oh, right, because this." Rodney pulled up a page and showed deployments for the rookies for the last month. "Three weeks they've been watching nothing but empty buildings."

He was smart. Holly smiled tiredly. "Can't fool you. Yes, they're working on that gang case, the one with the drugs? I gather its escalating."

Rodney started to smile and then looked worried. "Oh god, you're right. We are way too cavalier about this shit." He walked away to the window.

With a shrug, Holly scooted back to study his little app. "It's the nature of the beast, as my wife would say. Speaking of wives, did yours help you with this?"

"A little, yeah." His wife was a computer programmer. "Nothing secret. I didn't violate the NDA."

She shook her head. "I was thinking we should hire her, but the overhead for a project like this is weirdly insane." Holly skimmed the output from that day.

The pieces slid into place without asking her permission. The phone in her pocket suddenly grew heavy. The scientist in her brain, which Gail would say was most of her, sorted and filed the evidence. The rookies had been at the outlier locations. They'd rotated the groups, give them all the experience of a boring surveillance gig. Fifteen and TwentySeven and ThirtyFour. But today was different. Today was all the rookies at a separate location except Fifteen. Fifteen's rookies were all at one location.

Holly tapped the keys and felt cold. 4727. She was on location. And that was the same location they'd just deployed ETF. And ... Yes. That was where Gail was headed too.

"Whoa, boss. You okay there, Holly?"

"No." She shook her head. "Not at all. Rodney, the kids are there."

"There... Where?" He stared at her and then came around to look. "Why are they all at the same location..."

"I think someone screwed up," she said softly and pulled her phone out. Who could she call? Gail was going to be on site. Steve would be. Vivian would be. All of them would turn their phones to true silence if needed, and if not, she didn't want to distract them. There was a number. She tapped it.

"Hey doc!"

"Duncan, what the hell is going on?" No preamble, no warm up. She was just going to ask him.

He hesitated. "Man, Doc, you know I can't talk about this sorta thing."

"Duncan. My daughter has kindly not informed her entire class about your nickname, or your history." Holly could hear him swallowing. "Why are all the rookies at one warehouse and why is ETF on the way?"

There was a strange sound on the phone. "Uh. Hold on."

A different voice picked up the line. "Holly, stop making Duncan piss himself." The voice was calm, comforting, and familiar. Holly closed her eyes and listened to Nick. "It looks like there was a logistical issue with dispatch. They were deployed to the wrong location. We're going to get everyone back, right and tight."

"Nicholas." Holly breathed through her nose. "I'm not asking as Gail's wife. I'm asking as Vivian's mother and I'm asking as someone who drove you home more than once and tucked you into your own bed."

Her friend sighed. "Holly, that's playing dirty."

"I don't really care. I want to know how dangerous this is. Please." In general, Holly knew the power of her 'please' with their friends.

"Relatively... High." He wasn't lying. "I thought you never wanted the details."

She exhaled and looked over at Rodney who was a little horrified. "Apparently things change. Please keep me updated?"

"I will. I promise."

Hanging up, Holly wanted to text Gail or Vivian. She wanted to tell them to stop all this, to be safe. "Vivian's there? In the middle?" When Holly nodded, Rodney winced. "I don't know how you do it," said Rodney. "How do you not go insane?"

Holly shook her head. "The first thing... The very first thing I learned about being in love with Gail is that she will always go back out there. I can't really be surprised Vivian takes after that... The selflessness." She sighed. For both, it came from their abandonment issues. They couldn't be themselves and let someone else hurt if they could stop it.

It was what she loved about Gail. It was what drew her in so completely. And she loved seeing it in their daughter. To see the person they'd raised care so much about people.

But she really should have kept her head in the sand and not looked.

At least everyone had stopped shooting. Vivian exhaled.

"Cops? Who the hell tipped the cops off?" That was Bobby Blue. Vivian was starting to memorize his nasal tone. Also the other men spoke in a more nervous, unconfident voice.

"Don't look at me," said a woman. Jackie. That sounded like Jackie. Vivian craned her neck to look without giving herself away. "Sounds like a damn kid. Did some baby cop on his own find us?"

The calmer voice was the doctor, and by the way, who was calm after being shot? "There are two cop cars out there." She was holding her phone, her leg bandaged already. "Damn. Look." She held up the phone to Jackie.

"Shit, that was smart of them. Rerun the tapes for the last couple hours?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Veronica. "How about you give me a goddamned minute first? You shot me, you asshole."

Oh. Shit. "They have a camera," whispered Vivian. "They can see our cruisers." Jenny nodded and pressed her radio, quietly relaying that to the officers on the way. It was Lara who pulled her own cellphone out and pulled up the wifi network. Of course. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"They must have found the guns right before we came back," said Bobby slowly.

"Found?" Jackie sounded angry, but was injecting Veronica with ... something. They were incredibly calm people.

"Well I sure as hell put the lid back on." Fuck. That was her fault, realized Vivian. Bobby waved his gun in their direction. "Two cars. That's four cops total. We can take 'em. You." He pointed at one of the minions. "Go see if the cars are empty."

"And ... What?" The minion was either stupid or smart.

"And if they are, jack 'em and hide 'em. If they aren't, make 'em."

But there was a hesitation. An uncomfortable tension. "They have radios," said Veronica. "Hold on." She did something on her phone. "They're not on the normal frequencies. Smart. If we block them all, we won't be able to call out either."

"Can you snipe it?" Jackie seemed like she expected this of her cousin. Great. They were technologically smart too.

As the cousins argued about how to block their radios, Vivian turned to Lara. "Can we block their wifi?"

"They'll still have wireless data," said Lara, her voice low.

"Knock the cameras out." Beyond making it harder for the idiots to access anything, the cameras being out would make it safer for the rest of the officers coming to rescue them.

Lara frowned. "You want me to crash their wifi? How do you think we do that?"

"We could google 'how to crash wifi'?" That was Rich. And it wasn't a bad idea.

"Yeah, even if we do, I have no idea how to do any of that!"

But Vivian did. Or at least she thought she did. It was in her engineering classes. They'd played around with the idea of blowing up wifi and, one evening, she'd experimented at home. Gail was pissed for days. There were a lot of ways. She could overrun the bandwidth and slow it down. She could simulate a Denial of Service attack. She could use Bluetooth...

Vivian pulled her own phone out and stared at it. Packet spam. She thumbed open her shell script app and checked. Please please have luck. Please. Vivian was raised by an atheist and an agnostic. Gail didn't believe in any God. Holly was an agnostic, accepting the possibility of a higher power, but wanting science to prove it. And Vivian? She didn't know. She couldn't prove God, and that bothered her, but not having an ounce of faith in anything ephemeral meant she could only have faith in humanity. And if anything had betrayed her, it was humans.

Right then, sitting behind a broken boiler, Vivian would pray to anything or anyone listening just to be sure she hadn't deleted the script she'd written for the class.

"Yes!" She kept her voice a low hiss and tapped the commands. It was illegal as hell. It was stupid and reckless and it was possible a two year old script wouldn't work right at all. She pressed the run command. "If you guys believe in God, start praying," Vivian said softly.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

"What the hell? The network is down."

Yes! Vivian grinned ear to ear. Technology for the win!

"What did you do?" Lara's eyes were wide.

"Crashed the network. Jenny, tell 'em the video's down."

Rich stared at her. "You know how to do that?"

"I majored in engineering." Vivian shoved her phone away. "It's not perfect. If my phone dies, it'll stop." And using Bluetooth gave her a couple hours at best. That should be enough time though. She hoped. If they were still in there after another couple hours without any backup, they had a lot of problems.

The cousins were still arguing.

Finally Bobby shouted. "Enough! This is stupid. Go check the cars."

There was a clatter of the door opening and then they all heard what was, to Vivian, the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. Sirens. The gangs started to swear and Rich spoke up. "Killing us would be a bad idea right now," he shouted at them.

Lara gaped. "Rich!"

But Vivian nodded. Right. That was a great idea. "Go on," she said softly.

Rich poked his head up. "Look, Bobby. Jackie. Veronica. Here's the thing. We know." He glanced at Vivian and mouthed 'help.' Help. He wanted information, and the shit head didn't know ASL or anything helpful. Well. Okay. Slowly she mouthed that they knew about the drugs. "We know about the drugs. And the guns. And Jackie."

"Shit," said Bobby. "We shoulda killed them. See this is the problem. I get it, coz. I do. You hate the killing. Well. They killed my old man, they killed our grandfather. And yeah, Jackie, we killed your old man. I'm sorry. I really am. But we have to stand together."

Jackie sighed. "Bobby. You can't just keep running around shooting people. You've got to have a plan."

"I do. And I got an even better one. What if... What if I forgive Anton for offing granddad?"

"Uh, Anton's dead," said Veronica slowly, hauling herself to sit on a gun crate.

But Jackie seemed to follow. "And I forgive you for killing Anton?"

Veronica spoke up. "Who was dying anyway." She winced. "You shot me, you fucker."

"Please, it's a through and through." Bobby hesitated. "You stabbed me last year." He patted his stomach.

Smiling, Jackie shook her head. "We kiss, we make up, we join forces?"

"You run Hill. I run Rivers. Spikes keeps us both in check."

The three cousins stared at each other. "Works for me. What about the cops?"

It was enough to that Vivian wanted to bash her head in. Lara groaned and said, "Seriously? They had to be the only reasonable fucking gang members on the damn planet?" They all gripped their guns a little tighter.

And Vivian prayed to whatever the hell was up there that someone on their side was smart enough to do what had to be done.

"Catch me up, John," said Gail as she walked over to her sergeant.

"Four rooks, hiding but they've been spotted. They're behind cover." John had his vest on and an radio earbud in his hand. "Here, we're getting updates from Aronson."

Gail took the earbud and wiggled it in. "Anyone hurt?"

"No, sounds like the earlier shooting was to scare them. Rookies are fine." He pointed at the building. "They poked their heads out, the gangs, right as we came up. Apparently their camera is out."

They had a camera? Gail stared at the building, studying it and trying to spot the camera. "Why is the camera out?"

John smirked. "Apparently Peck blew up their wifi with some kind of packet burst?"

Pausing her look for the camera, Gail blinked. Then she grinned. Nicely done. That was her kid alright. She smothered the smile and nodded. "And where are we now?"

"Hanford's actually doing a decent job of talking them down. Or he was until the gangs decided to stop fighting each other and team up."

"I thought orders were to not engage?"

"Sure, and that worked until they got shot at, boss. Can't blame 'em." John shrugged. "Who do you want to negotiate?"

Gail hesitated. "How far out is ETF?"

"About ten minutes. Give or take. I told Tran about the wifi business and she wanted to adjust her troops."

Fair enough. Sue would know best. "Steve," she said decisively. "This is his baby." As John turned to make it happen, Gail finally found the camera. It was in the sign. "Hey, do we have the paintball gun?"

Much like the beanbag gun, non-lethal weapons had been all the rage for the last decade. Gail was very much a fan of anything that took people down without a high risk of loss of life. Weasel words. She didn't want to kill people, or be the one to make the call that they died. More than once Gail had been forced to make the call and give a sniper a go signal. Those decisions haunted her still and always would. They felt like failures.

"Yeah, it's in my cruiser," said Dov. He too was a fan of non-lethal methods.

"Give it to Nick. I want to take out the camera even if they get wifi back."

A few moments later, Nick showed up with the paintball rifle. "Where?"

"Look at the sign." She pointed. "The fourth screw from the left, top row, doesn't match the placement of the others."

Nick leaned against the cruiser and steadied his little paintball rifle. "Yeah. Yeah, I see it. Okay." He slowed his breathing. Gail envied his ability with shots like this. It was both too far and too rifle oriented for her. She could see it, but her ability to hit the target precisely like that was limited at best given the distance. If it was a handgun, she'd ask Dov to shoot. A rifle? You asked Nick.

Three soft pops from the gun went off and there was a faint tinkle from afar. "I think you broke it," said Dov, amused.

"Happens." Nick straightened. "Definitely a camera, though."

"John, tell the kids we think we knocked out the camera on us, but we don't know if there are more." Her sergeant nodded and dropped his head to talk to the rookies. Gail was confidant John would make sure Vivian kept whatever blocking she had going on until ETF showed up. Pushing her hands through her hair, Gail studied the building. "Dov, tell me you know why the rooks are here?"

"Dispatch fucked up. I had them yank Tassie off the line."

Gail nodded. "I want to say good but Jesus, what a fuck up."

Her friend, ex-roommate, and soon to be ex-sergeant, nodded. "I don't know how the hell you're calm, to be honest." Dov jerked his chin at the building.

That was a good question. She certainly had been anything but calm when Vivian saw a guy blow his head off. And she'd been really a basket case one night when she thought Vivian hadn't come home. But today... "She's a cop, Dov."

It wasn't like Vivian was going to be stupid and reckless. Certainly Vivian was the kid who was calm and collected in a crisis. Gail trusted her daughter, in skills and sense. She was terrified her kid might get hurt, but at the same time she knew this was Vivian's choice. Scared and confident. This was what Elaine must have meant when she said she was always worried when Gail or Steve went on a dangerous case, but at the same time she was certain they would be fine because she knew her children and their abilities.

So did Gail.

Her brother walked up, pulling a warmer jacket on over his vest. Steve's thinning, grey hair waved in the winter breeze. "John caught me up. What's my limit?"

"Try to keep it under a million," Gail said flippantly.

Steve smiled and hefted his bullhorn. "Somehow they don't strike me as the money people."

"That's why you're my guy, Steve. Me and you."

"You and me." He nodded at her.

They bumped fists and Gail stepped back behind the cruiser. She thumbed her radio. "I want eyes on Steve. Any target lights him up and I want him down and safe."

Glancing back at her, Steve smirked. "I knew you loved me." And then the goofy, genial mask Steve nearly always wore faded away. He was all business. "Hello folks. Bobby Z. Jackie. Veronica. Or if you'd like, Blue, Red, and Spikes. This is the Toronto Police. You're in a bit of a pickle. See. You have four of our folks in there, but we have you surrounded."

Gail's earbud came to life. "Someone's headed up to the catwalk... Looks like Jackie." The voice was Jenny Aronson. So the kids were still able to watch. Good.

A window on the upper level opened. "We have phones, asshole."

Smirking, Gail nodded at Steve. "Whom would you like me to call?" He was so polite it was hilarious. If only they knew that was Steve's tone for idiots.

Jackie shouted down a number and then leaned forward. "You fucking paint balled the camera? Ugh." The window closed.

Gail rubbed her face to hide the smile. "Mom would be so proud of your grammar, Steve."

"Blame your wife." He tossed the megaphone to Dov. "AV, you guys recording my phone?"

The tech gave Steve a thumbs up. "Put your earbuds on channel 87, ma'am," the tech said to Gail.

"John, stay on with the kids." When John nodded, Gail gave Steve a go sign.

He dialed. "Hello-"

"Listen, assholes, I'm gonna say this once. Go away."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Hello, Bobby. You know I can't do that."

In the background of the phone, Gail could just make out a woman telling Bobby it was worth a shot. "Hang on..." The phone took on an echo quality. "You're on speaker. What deal you got for me that you won't kill us as soon as we walk out?"

"Kill you? Why would we do that? Have you seen the hassle that happens if we shoot a civilian?" Steve shook his head. "Look, I'll make this easy. Put down your guns, kneel in a circle, and we'll arrest you. There's not much else going for you. I mean, let's face it Bobby, you are literally surrounded."

"We're also well armed," said a cool, female voice. "And you can't shoot us."

"Don't want to and can't are very different," Steve said earnestly. "That would be my last choice, folks, but if that's the only way to end this, then that's what'll happen."

There was a very tense pause on the phone. "What if we let them go? They go and then you let us go and we all walk away."

Steve shook his head. "Can't do that either, Bobby. You know it."

"So you want us to give up and rot in jail? Because death is pretty much how this ends. That's what happened to my old man."

Gail blinked and pulled out her phone. Her Mountie contact might be able to help her out here. Texting the case number, she explained that they were working with the son of the main protection and were trying to peacefully end a standoff. The Mountie replied right away and promised to contact Bobby Zanaro Sr and see if he was willing to help.

Meanwhile, Steve kept going. He knew Bobby Z. was alive and Gail wondered if that was coloring his approach. "That all depends on what you give us, Bobby. The drugs are one thing. The guns though, that's new. I'd love to get some info on that."

The phone cut out for a moment. They'd hit mute. Steve waited patiently. Then Jackie's voice cut in. "No."

Steve glanced at Gail and signed that at least now they knew who'd gotten the guns. "You've got to give me something, folks."

"There's no way we're getting out of here safe and sound," said Jackie, angrily. "Why would we?"

Looking thoughtful, Steve asked something obvious, but odd. "How about your men? They come out, with our cops, and we'll nickel them for accessory. Serve three. Out in two for good behavior. Minimum security." Obviously he was banking on them actually caring about family.

The mute type silence went on again. "Half."

"S'cuse me?"

"Half. Two cops. The chatty guy and one other stays. Hostages."

Her brother turned, arching an eyebrow. Half. Not great. "Hostages is a pretty big step," said Steve, cautioning them.

"If I call 'em collateral, is it different?" Bobby's tone was derisive.

Steve smiled a little. "It sets a better expectation."

"Fine. Whatever makes you feel better. But we want 'em unarmed."

Gail wanted to say no, but the fact was two cops held hostage by three crazy cousins was a hell of a lot of a better situation. "Do it," she said softly to Steve, signing as she spoke.

"The other cops get their guns," Steve said firmly.

The deal was accepted. The door opened not even ten minutes later and a handful of gang members walked out. Frankly Gail was surprised they gave in that fast. "Swarek, take 'em," she said to the man. As TwentySeven's units rounded up the gang, the door opened again and another group walked out, followed by two uniforms.

It was Aronson and Volk. Of course. Gail's heart thudded in her chest. Was this how Elaine had felt? No, no, her mother had never stood and watched her like this. Superintendent Peck had not worn a vest and waited while her children were at the hands of some insane people. She'd sat behind the desk and trusted them to do their damn jobs.

And that? That helped. Gail took a long, slow, breath. "Dov," she said quietly. "They're yours."

Her friend, one of her oldest and truest friends, nodded slowly. "I'll find out." He walked over to the rookies, still his rookies, and sat them down by the EMTs for a once over.

Her other friend, her partner of over fifteen years, came up beside her. "She's really a Peck," John said thinly.

"My kind of Peck." Gail gripped her belt. "You know. The one thing I've missed, not being a uni, is the duty belt."

John glanced at his waist. "God. Yes. That always felt so solid and safe. Like a shield."

And Vivian still had hers. There was that at least. "She knows we're here," Gail said for her own sanity's sake.

Which worked just fine until there was a gunshot.

It was really easy to hate people. Vivian pressed both hands to Rich's leg, wishing she had a cloth or a shirt... What had Gail said? She'd used Chris' own shirt when he'd been stabbed. Vivian didn't really want to rip Rich's shirt off. He needed to keep it on, in case of shock. And it was already cold in the room.

There was that weird thing about stress and overstimulation that calmed her down. Vivian had no idea why it worked that way, but whenever there was a crisis, or too much was going on, her brain was able to compartmentalize everything. Her therapist said it wasn't the best thing in the world, but it wasn't the worst either.

Right now, her brain knew the following: Gail was in charge outside. Steve was on the phone, or had been until the shot rang out and Bobby hung up. ETF was there, or nearly there. Rich was shot in the thigh and bleeding not too horribly.

"Hey," she said to Veronica. "You're the doctor. If my partner bleeds out, you guys are in a whole mess of trouble."

Jackie pointed her gun at Vivian. "Shut the hell up."

Well. That was new. Vivian swallowed. The bile in her throat receded as the adrenaline rushed through her. Looking at the gun, she was no longer afraid of it. She knew Jackie wouldn't shoot her. She could just tell. Vivian was certain in a way she'd never felt before. "You want him to die? Seriously?" She turned to Veronica. "Primum non nocere."

The least criminal of the trio looked worried. "Screw it," she said to Bobby. "I'm not letting a kid die."

Bobby looked at Jackie. "Stop waving that around, idiot. That running off half cocked is how we got in this trouble in the first place." He grabbed Jackie's gun. "Jesus, you're so fucking meticulous about money and so impulsive about this... That's why we gotta be a team, Red."

And Jackie looked dejected. "Shut up. You already shot Ronnie."

It was the family kind of arguments Vivian saw with her own parents. Gail and Steve were just like that. For all the three idiots were dumb as a bag of hair, they stuck together. "You two use your brains to get us out of this," ordered Veronica. "They can trace the drugs, but they want the guns. We could give up that, and Jackie can show them how she hid the money trail."

Vivian knew Gail had pulled in a forensic accountant already, so that was a dead end. Not that she was telling them that. "Thank you," she said quietly to Veronica. That was what Steve had told her. Make a connection with the criminals and they'd treat you like humans.

"I'm not doing it for you," replied Veronica, bitterly. "I don't want Jackie to do time for murder."

"After your cousin shot you." She squeezed Rich's hand, encouraging him to lie down.

Veronica shrugged. "You don't have family?" She held out the first aid kit.

A gamble. "Not like that." Vivian took the kit. "In my family, shooting each other is kinda how you get promoted."

That got Veronica's attention. "Promoted?" She was laying out the tools needed. Scissors. Gauze. Padding. "You skip a gang for cops?"

"No, I'm a Peck. We've been cops since Toronto has had 'em." Three faces stared at her. At her jacket. "At least one Peck killed another to get his job. My mom got her mom fired."

"Your mom is a Peck?"

"Yeah. Pecks keep their name when they marry. Can we actually stop my idiot partner from dying? I will never live it down if he dies."

Bobby snorted a laugh. "What and being held hostage is okay?"

Pointing at Rich, who was wisely silent, Vivian stated the obvious. "He's my partner." The less obvious of course was she was still blocking the WiFi from her phone. "We're supposed to stay with our partner."

"Yeah? You always do what you're told?" Veronica cut Rich's pants.

"Well. Last time I didn't, I ended up held as collateral while the guy who asked me that was bleeding on the floor." She took gauze from Veronica and held it in place. "I think I'll stick to the status quo."

Grunting, Veronica wrapped the bandage around Rich's leg. "Easier said than done. Help me up, cop."

She wasn't in a position to argue, but she did take her jacket off and cover Rich with it. His eyes were wide open and she mouthed 'keep calm and listen' to him. Rich shivered in reply. "Where... Um, where do you want to go?"

"Over to my computer. Crap you're tall." Veronica leaned on Vivian and shook her head. "Nope, no good. Jackie, bring me the laptop. Cop, you seem okay with blood. Change my bandage."

The less they paid attention to her as more than a minion, the more they'd talk around her. She sighed a little and undid the bandage, re wrapping a clean one in place. Then she sat by Rich's head, putting the arms of her coat under his head. "Hang in there, Richie," she said softly.

He gripped her hand. "How bad is my leg?" Rich was shaking, probably from shock.

"You'll be fine," said Vivian, promising something she couldn't know was true. It was something she sincerely doubted. She felt eyes on her and looked up at Veronica.

The doctor narrowed her eyes. "Your dad's a doctor."

Vivian reflexively shook her head. "No... Well. Yes, technically." That was still funny, though they had finally gotten the new paperwork drawn up and Holly was no longer listed at her father. "Not a people doctor. Lab doctor. No patients."

Veronica nodded. "Smart man." She tapped on her keys. "Jackie, someone's microbursting the wifi. I'm not getting it back."

"Which means what?" Jackie sat down next to her cousin.

"Means I'm stuck using my cell to contact anyone, which you can bet your ass they'll start blocking any second now." They both looked at Vivian, expectantly.

She hesitated. "Yes," said Vivian carefully. "It's SOP to cut off your contact. They've probably been tapping all calls. The block only happens if we think you're escalating."

All three women looked at the pale and sweaty Rich.

"Fucking Bobby." Veronica shoved the laptop aside. "Bobby, we gotta figure this out."

The man sat on the other side of Veronica. "They keep texting. He wants to know who was shot."

Vivian blinked. "You may want to answer that." They all looked at her. "Unless you like the idea of them busting on in here."

Grunting, Veronica shoved Bobby off the crate. "Help me prop my leg up. I'll call the guy back. What's his name?"

"Steve. I didn't get the last name." Bobby handed the phone over and helped with her leg. "How come you're in better shape than the kid?"

"You got me in the calf, not the knee. Through and through. You nailed the kid in the meaty part of the thigh. Didn't Nick a vein at least."

"Plus you're probably high on painkillers already," said Jackie. Veronica just shrugged. Well wasn't that interesting. "You sure you're up for this?"

Nodding, Veronica tapped the last number. "Hello, Mr. Steve. You're on speaker."

Her uncle's voice came across the line. "Hello. Is this Veronica or Jackie?"

"Veronica. How long do I have before you cut off my phone?"

"Well. The trigger happy techs want to do it now, but I'd rather not. Then we can't have our little chats." Steve waited and then spoke again. "Protocol, we hear gunshots, we have a green light to go in. But my boss wants to keep things calm. How about ... Who did you shoot?"

Veronica looked at Bobby. "We give to get." She tapped the screen. "The annoying boy model. In the thigh. He'll live." She tapped again. "Okay. What do we want? Cause we're not getting a chopper."

"Lighter sentence," said Jackie. "Maybe this whole gang thing was a bad idea. I was making more as an accountant."

"I was having fun," Veronica admitted.

Bobby sighed and wiped his face. "I just wanted ... Fuck. I don't know anymore. I wanted all those assholes who killed our granddads, our dads, our uncles... " They all fell silent.

On the phone, Steve spoke up again, asking if they were okay. Veronica sighed. "Hey, Steve. You been a cop for a long time?"

"Yes, yes I have. Thirty-five years."

Veronica looked surprised. "That's a hell of a long time."

"My old man had fifty. Died in uniform." He waited and went on, chatting. "I'm from a long line of cops. As long as Toronto's had 'em, we've been 'em." Vivian went cold. Shit. He was going to do the Peck story! And yet he stopped. "Kinda like you guys. We are what our parents make us. But... Me and my sister, we broke the mold."

Snorting, Veronica winced. "What can you promise us?"

Steve hesitated. "That depends on what you give us. Right now, you're cooperating. So I can get you down for drugs, guns, and the deaths. We can talk it down with the Crowne's office."

"That's not an assurance, Steve." Veronica looked up at the ceiling. "I'm hanging up. I'll call back." She pressed a button. "We, my cousins, are fucked."

"Maybe I should just kill the kids?" Bobby gestured at Vivian and Rich. "I mean, we're going to rot or we can go out fast."

"End the way that makes a legend?" Jackie shrugged.

Veronica nodded. "The detox woulda been a bitch anyway." Bobby cocked his gun and aimed at Rich. "Hit him in the head. It'll be fast."

And Vivian had to speak up. "This is a really bad idea guys." The gun aimed at her calmed her. A gun wasn't something to be afraid of. The man behind the gun, he was just a person holding a tool. She could handle people now. That was the best gift she'd gotten from her mothers.

They all stared at her. "What do you know?" Veronica looked interested.

"You don't get it, which is weird." She turned and looked Blue in the eyes. "Death is final. Death changes things forever. If you do it, see it, face it, it changes you. You will never be anything but this. A killer. You will all be known as the ones who killed and died. Is that how you want to be remembered?"

Bobby's hand wavered. He repeated Veronica's question. "What do you know?"

"About Three Rivers? A lot. You were never about killing until those yahoos who punted your dad took over." Vivian glanced at Veronica. "You knew that, right? About the nurse who was helping them do body dumps out of old ambulances? That's how they got caught."

The doctor stared at her. "How the hell did you know that?"

"You already know," said Vivian calmly. "You know that Steve, on the phone? He's been a cop forever, just like me. So when I tell you he was the cop who was stabbed by the nurse, and his sister is the one who took them down..." She trailed off.

Veronica nodded. "And they're running the show out there. Son of a bitch. You're the worst hostage ever."

"I'm not a hostage if you let us go. Put the guns down. Sit there. Let me let them in. Then it all stops. No one dies."

Bobby shook his head. "So what. So we die. The end."

She had expected that. A man giving up. "Death is really final, Bobby," Vivian said softly. "I've seen people blow their heads off. I've seen people murdered, Bobby. And I've picked up the pieces of the people they leave behind. Like you. Jackie. Veronica. I know how this ends. Don't do it."

There were no dead bodies. That was the only good thing. Had there been one, Holly would have been tapped herself to come over. Still, as she sent out her ballistics and evidence retrieval experts, Holly kept staring at her phone. Ring.

It wouldn't, though. It couldn't. Gail wouldn't call until it was all well and truly over. Vivian too. Holly had dared to use the 'find my friends' app and verified that Gail and Vivian were at the same location. Then she'd turned on the news and watched, which was not a good idea. The news reporters weren't allowed in or even close, but she could make out most of the cops she knew. Dov had a walk, Gail had a stance even when she had a hat covering that hair.

"Jesus, Holly..." The tired voice of her sister in law surprised her.

"I know, I know." She rubbed her face. "Don't watch."

Traci closed the door and sat next to Holly on the couch. "Everyone's fine. So far." She took one of Holly's hands.

"Vivian's in there," Holly said flatly.

"What?" Traci stared at the television.

Holly sighed. "See... I know my wife. That's her in the baseball cap over by the EMTs. And there's Steve in that God awful purple shirt. Is he colorblind?"

"No..."

"Huh. I've always wondered... Anyway. There's Dov and Nick and Andy. And I see the rookies over there. Volk and Aronson. And there's Christian. Which means Vivian and Abercrombie are ... They're in there."

Traci squeezed her hand. "Okay, Holly, look at me." She reached over for the remote and turned the TV off. "They kept Hanford, and Viv's his partner. So she stayed. She's fine, though."

"She's in a warehouse with the same crazed assholes who stabbed Steve," Holly said bitterly.

Her friend and sister-in-law sighed. "You can't watch this stuff, Hol."

Holly nodded, not crying. She couldn't cry. She was sad, but not like that. She was more angry. "You know, Trace, I thought I could handle it. I thought because Gail did this, because I was used to it, I'd be fine."

"Holly..."

"I'm mad at myself, you know? For being so supporting and ... And taking Viv's side in all this. She wanted to be this so bad, Traci." And that was something Holly understood. She'd been nearly Vivian's age when she stepped up against her parents' wishes and changed her direction in med school. Holly had sold her motorcycle, started the process of getting a loan, looked up every scholarship, and then, only then, had her mother broken down.

When a person wanted something like that, like she wanted to be a pathologist and like Vivian wanted to be a cop, nothing stood in the way.

"I don't think I'd be half as calm as you if it was Leo," admitted Traci. "How the hell do you do it?"

"I don't know." Holly sighed and took off her glasses, pressing the heels of her hands into her eye-sockets.

Her friend got up and brought a mug of tea over. "You have the MOM mug," said Traci, amusedly.

"You're trying to distract me," Holly complained.

"I know. I'm really bad at it. Or you're just really hard to distract." Traci put the mug down. "I've seen how Gail does it. No offense, we're not that close."

Holly cracked a smile and closed her eyes. "Thank you. That helps." She took a deep breath. "It just makes me a little crazy."

Traci sat beside Holly and touched her back. She didn't say anything though. She sat next to Holly and was quiet and supportive. When Holly picked the remote back up and turned the news back on, Traci didn't speak up.

The talking news head was being escorted, by Andy, away from the area. "ETF has arrived on scene and Sgt. McNally has asked us to leave the scene for our own safety. Sergeant, do you have a statement for us?"

Andy looked a little surprised on the screen. "No, no comment. Please keep back here across the street. Officer Fox...?" The man nodded and took a stance at the line, looking grim faced.

And Holly laughed a little. "Poor Andy. Is that why she never went for sergeant before?"

Traci smiled. "You should have seen Gail the first time she was supposed to give a speech for her mother. I thought she was going to puke."

"Vivian has all her TV appearances recorded." Holly sighed softly. "The one at the dance party for the LGBT centre was my favorite." Gail had worn a handful of glow necklaces and introduced a young woman named Katie to the media, who had lived in the same group home with Sophie many years ago. Much like Sophie, Katie had ended up in social work. Where Sophie was a child advocate lawyer, Katie ran a shelter for LGBT youths.

Of course Gail had gone, in her dress uniform and all her glory, to the gala opening. And that meant, when the news showed up, Gail was tasked with talking to the reporters about the event. At home with the flu, Vivian had been wrapped up in a blanket, watching the news, and had shouted that Holly had to record things, because Mom was on TV.

Holly had actually thought Vivian was hallucinating, knowing how much Gail hated public speaking. But there was Gail, glow necklaces and all, telling them how she'd known the women in charge since they were children and how very proud and honored she was to be invited. And when the reporter asked Gail if she minded being around so many openly gay kids, Gail had flashed that smile with her canines bared and said she and her wife were used to seeing gay every day.

"That was a good one," agreed Traci.

"I think I should have known Vivian was into computers and electronics then." Holly thoughtfully watched the news focus on the ETF agents. "She figured out how to download the recordings of Gail off the DVR."

"She also blew out the wifi at the your house with that toy of hers." Traci pointed at the TV. "She did it there too."

Holly blinked a little. "At that warehouse?"

Traci nodded. "Yeah. She shut down their wifi, so they couldn't get to the camera and see backup coming. Pretty damn smart, your kid." With a smile, Traci added, "Gail would've never thought of that."

"Oh, she would have. And complained and made someone else do it." But Holly felt a smile tug at her lips. Her nerdy, into math, kid had done that.

So many people, even Holly sometimes, looked at Vivian as the Peck she'd desperately wanted to be at eighteen. It wasn't anything their daughter had asked or talked about with them. She had just announced to Holly that she wanted to change her name and to be a cop. But she wanted to be both Gail and Holly. Vivian Stewart Peck.

Really, Holly didn't care. She absolutely didn't give a shit that Vivian wanted to be a Peck. Really. Holly understood her daughter's somewhat manic craving to reinvent herself as something that could withstand a tsunami of shit, a life where the unthinkable happened, and a life where Vivian would be able to walk away. That name was, unarguably, Peck.

Sometimes Holly wished she'd taken the name herself. There was something comforting about the Pecks. "Traci... Why did you change your name?"

Her friend looked surprised. "To Peck?"

"I know Steve didn't ask you." After the proposal, impromptu as it turned out, Steve had come to their house to ask Gail to be his best man. He had been on cloud nine and bouncing. All the wedding details were planned at by Gail, surprising Holly with how much talent Gail had in the arena. The Pecks likened it to tactical work. But one thing had come up early. Steve had no interest in Traci changing her name.

Traci smiled. "A few reasons. Those two needed backup for being Pecks who didn't suck. And Peck is a pretty powerful name."

"You'd already made your name, though."

"As a detective, sure." Traci shrugged. "I wanted the cheaters path, a little. People don't give you as much crap when you're not a pale, pale, Peck. They figure you had to earn the name and shut the hell up."

Well that was interesting. "You wanted to be a Peck for the power?"

Traci nodded. "Afraid so." She paused. "Why?"

Quickly Holly shook her head. "Oh no. No. I get that. I was just ... I was trying to distract myself and I was thinking..." Her eyes drifted to the television and Traci made a noise of understanding.

"Why did Vivian change her name?"

"She's never really explained it." Holly nibbled the skin on the edge of her finger. She had her theories, but Holly had let Vivian find silent comfort in her name. Understanding came after acceptance.

"I don't think I would have been alright if Leo wanted to."

"Leo ... Leo doesn't have bad memories about being a Nash."

Traci winced. "I forget ... It feels like she's always been a part of the family."

Smiling, Holly put her hand in her lap. "Thank you."

"I'm serious, you know." A warm hand rested on her knee. "We're a family. And coworkers, but we take care of each other."

It was clear Traci had come not for any reason other than she and Holly were family. That was the thing about marrying into Gail's life. While the blonde would loudly argue she didn't have friends, the number of people who were there for them was uncountable.

Maybe Gail knew that, maybe she didn't. Holly certainly appreciated the people Gail had brought into her life.

The window shattered inward.

It was what Vivian had been hoping would happen for the last few minutes. The cousins that made up the stupidest gang in the history of ever had been arguing about shooting it out or selling it out. The odds of everyone walking out alive went down with every second, and Vivian knew it. She had to wait, though. She knew ETF was out there by now, and she knew their procedures.

The second the window shattered, Vivian reacted. Danger. Threat. Move. She heard the canister clatter and spin on the cement floor. Smoke grenade. Time to run. There was a small chance, a slim one that the cousins would shoot her. But Vivian had to bank on the fact they were going to care about the ETF team about to storm in from the front and side doors.

"Sorry about this, Rich." Squatting, Vivian heaved Rich into a fireman's carry.

He grunted louder than she did. "Fuck... Don't care." He was tense and Vivian felt the blood from his leg on her arm as she turned for the side door.

That meant running through the smoke. "Hold your breath," she told Rich and ran. There was no way she wasn't going to get a lung full. Rich was heavy and it was totally unlike the wall dead-lifts she did at the gym. Fifty pounds and a hundred pounds, lifting the walls on sliders was easy compared to hauling a person whom she didn't want to hurt across the room.

Gunshots rang out. Well now that was terrifying. Vivian hoped Rich couldn't hear her heart thudding as she made it past the smoke. "Why aren't you going to the door." Rich was wheezing.

"Because-" The door was kicked in and ETF was right there. "It's me, Peck! Don't shoot!"

The familiar brown eyes of her friend Duane met hers. "It's Peck. 4727 secure. 4765 needs the bus. You got this?"

"As long as no one's going to shoot me in the back." Vivian coughed. Duane gave her a thumbs up and ushered her out the door. Right away, Ivan was there and steered her to the EMTs, where a woman near her mother's age was waiting. The name on the tag said M. Maclean. Of course it was Mac.

As much as she wanted to look over at what the others were doing, especially since she heard more gun shots, Vivian found herself wracked with coughs as soon as she put Rich on a gurney.

"Jesus, Peck, that hurts," he swore. And coughed. "You had to run right into the damn smoke."

"You're welcome." Vivian bent over, hands on her knees, trying to get a full breath.

The older EMT touched her arm. "Hey, come sit down, kid." Nodding, Vivian sat and coughed again. "Put a mask on him, will you Barrows? And stop the bleeding on his leg?" Turning to Vivian, Maclean smiled. It was nice having someone she knew. "Okay, where were you hit?"

Vivian shook her head. "Not me. Rich's blood." Now that the adrenaline was washing out of her system, she felt cold.

"Hey, Barrows, gimme her coat." Maclean caught it on the fly. "Here, shock's a fun one. You get this back on."

The shivering kicked in. "I remember." Vivian pulled it over her shoulders and huddled a little.

"I'm gonna check your heart and BP, okay? And get you some oxygen." The mask went on first, which was a welcome relief. Her brain felt less fuzzy. As Maclean checked her out, the EMT shook her head and marveled. "You are incredibly calm. Is that a Peck trait?"

Vivian smiled dryly. "Good in a crisis," she said. The sound of gunfire stopped. Vivian looked up and over at the police heading in. Her mother and Steve were following the ETF troop in. Swarek was with Chloe, going around the corner, and she was pretty sure she saw Christian there too.

Maclean looked over as well. "You know she's okay, right? It's not like when your mom tore her leg on the ice."

When Vivian snorted, the other EMT (Barrows) asked, "You know her?"

With a nod, Mackenzie Maclean gestured at Gail. "This is Gail Peck's kid. I've known her for years. First time I met her, she was freaked her mom was going to die."

Around her mask, Vivian sassed. "Did your parents hate you, Mac Mac?" Then to the other EMT, she added. "I was like twelve and my mom was bleeding all over the place."

"Oh yeah, she's Gail's." The other EMT rolled his eyes.

Maclean laughed. "Need a blanket? Or do you feel okay?"

Vivian pulled the mask off. "I'm okay. I think."

The EMT nodded and helped her into the jacket properly. "Put a watch cap on." Maclean pulled one out of her rig and yanked it over Vivian's head. "And keep the mask on."

"Right." Closing her eyes, Vivian sucked in the oxygen. God that felt good.

"You're going to need to go to the ER and get checked out," said Maclean. Vivian gave her a thumbs up. "You are the most compliant cop I've ever met. Especially for a Peck."

"Her mother is a doctor, Mac, you know that. She'd never hear the end of it." Sue Tran had taken off her body armor already. She was smudged and sweaty. "Can I talk to her?"

"Sure. Just keep sucking that O in, kid." Maclean clapped a hand on Vivian's shoulder and went in the back to check on a Rich, who was complaining that he needed more painkillers.

Sue sat on the bumper next to Vivian. "Well that was a hell of a day." Vivian snorted and signed a yes sign. "You blocked the wifi?" She nodded. "And fireman carried your partner out." Sue exhaled loudly. "Fucking badass."

Taking a deep breath, Vivian took the mask off. "Except for getting talked into going in the warehouse instead of checking dispatch, and leaving the lid off the guns." As she put the mask back on, Sue was smirking. "What?"

"Not all of us are made for patrol stuff. Some of us think and plot and scheme." She pointed over at Gail, who was walking with Steve. They had Bobby Zanaro Jr. cuffed to a gurney between them and were looking sad and smug, the way only the Peck siblings could. "That one never stops thinking and unraveling plots. And she's the kind of person you want to stick with because she'll get you out of anything." Vivian smiled a little. "She was a good patrol officer. She's an fucking amazing detective."

She smiled. "Yeah," said Vivian around her mask. After all, Gail had gotten them out.

"You. You're a good cop, Vivian. A good patrol officer. But you don't think like a patrol officer. You like puzzles on a deadline. Crisis brings out the best in you." Sue tilted her head. "Follow?"

Vivian blinked. She looked at Sue and then over to where Gail was ordering Swarek around. As a younger girl, she'd wanted to be Oliver. She'd wanted to be the guy who was trusted and relied on in a crisis. But what if she wasn't that cop? What if Sue was right? What if Lara's jokes about being an adrenaline junkie weren't a joke? What if the cop she was going to be wasn't a beat cop or a detective? "Yeah," she replied. "Follow."

Sue smiled. "Good. Good."

"Who died?" When Sue startled, Vivian gestured. "I'm guessing Jackie Reynolds, but..."

The lieutenant shook her head. "Yeah. She ran right into things. Shot your friend Sabrina in the vest."

Vivian winced. "Well. She okay?"

"She is. And so are you. And so is that guy. Okay?" Sue looked at her until she nodded back. "Okay. Mac shut your partner up enough, so you get a nice ride to the hospital. I'm going to keep your old lady busy, but she'll come by."

Nodding, Vivian watched Sue head over to the other officers. Maclean reappeared. "Okay, Peck. Time to get you checked out." Nodding again, Vivian let Mac help her into the back of the ambulance. "You don't mind riding with Officer Whiney Boy here?"

Vivian smiled and took her mask off. "He's a good cop. Brave."

"Yeah?" Mac eyed him. "Well. I'll take your word at it." She rapped on the wall. "Okay, Barrows. Let's go."

And Vivian closed her eyes, leaning against the side of the ambulance as they drove to the hospital. Hell of a long day.

Everyone sang like a damn canary, which Gail felt was the first time anything had gone really right on the whole damn case. Of course, they'd also shot Bobby (in the shoulder), and he had earlier shot Veronica, and Jackie had died in the firefight. Holly did the preliminary autopsy, but suicide by cop was pretty clear cut. That meant Gail's first stop was the hospital for confessions from the survivors and then, finally, she could hunt down the rookies.

They were all hanging out in the waiting room, still in uniforms that were dirty and, in the case of Vivian, a bit bloody and probably sticky. It reminded Gail of the time she'd sat in those chairs, waiting to hear if Sam and Chloe were going to live. Absently she touched her hair. That night, that day, had changed her life irrevocably. That was the day she knew without a doubt that she was in love with Holly. And chopped off all her hair.

The rookies did not yet seem to be at that manic stage of things. Vivian was slouched as deep as possible in a chair beside Christian, who was hovering. Lara and Jenny were on Vivian's side, talking quietly. They all looked fucking beat and tired.

Gail cleared her throat. "Well. You guys look like a mess."

All four looked up and startled. Only Vivian smiled, and she almost absently signed. The doves were singing.

Lara stood up. "Detective! Um... Andy- I mean Sgt. McNally told us to stay here until Rich ..."

"He's still in surgery." Vivian signed that Rich was probably going to be fine.

It was news Gail already had and she nodded. "Good. When he gets out, you can tell him that both gangs are in custody. Biggest damn bust ever." Two of the four looked delighted. Christian did not. He looked guilty and sullen. Gail looked at her daughter again and arched an eyebrow, but Vivian just looked tired and a little sad.

"We're not in trouble," asked Jenny. "I mean, we were at the wrong warehouse."

"Not you. No. Dispatch is getting a hell of a lecture though. They're damn lucky no one died."

Vivian looked pained. "One of them did."

Yeah. That was her kid. The only person who would miss Jackie 'Red' Reynolds, aka Jackie Hill, was probably her cousin Veronica. The Hill gang collapsed in moments after her death, scattering to the wind. "None of you did." Her daughter nodded at that. "Okay, Volk, come here. We're gonna go over this, one at a time, now."

Gail sat down with the rookies, one at a time, to go over the notes. But they all shared the same explanation of what had happened. Even her daughter, who was last. Christian had been with Gail and her team the whole time, there was no need to ask him what had happened.

As the only person who'd been in the warehouse the entire time, Vivian's story included the horrifying moment of Rich being shot. "I guess I should be glad that Bobby was such a good shot."

Tilting her head, Gail asked, "Where was he aiming?"

"I thought his chest," said Vivian thoughtfully. "And then when Rich grabbed his leg, I realized he'd hit his thigh." She jerked her hand. "He just flicked his wrist." Vivian shrugged and went on, detailing what had happened with remarkable accuracy. It was impossible for Gail not to smile at her. "What?"

"Remember the car accident?"

Vivian blinked. "The... Up at the cottage?" Gail nodded and Vivian blinked again, the words sinking in and having meaning for her. "Yeah?" The girl sounded hopeful.

"Yeah. You can do it too." Her daughter looked surprised and abashed. "Listen, tell me the truth, will you? Are you guys really okay?"

Her daughter— no, the cop in front of her looked back at the three other uniformed officers. "Yeah. I think we are."

Gail nodded. "Smoke tasted like shit, huh?"

Vivian made a face. "Nasty shit. They checked my lungs out though. I'm totally fine." She paused and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Battery is bone dry. Can you call Mom?"

"She knows. She was watching the news with Traci." Before anything else, before getting in her car or even questioning a single person, Gail called her wife to explain what had happened. Of course, Vivian hadn't been able to and winced. "Don't worry. I told her you fried your phone." Gail tossed over an emergency charger. "Fuel up. As soon as Rich is out of surgery, you guys should head home."

As she plugged in her phone, Vivian bit her lip. "Actually... I'm kinda wired. We all are. We were going to change and hit the Penny."

Gail tilted her head and then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I remember that. Call if you want a ride."

The younger Peck nodded and then, as they both stood up, hugged Gail. Those moments were rare, when Vivian instigated a hug. They always had been. They probably always would be. Vivian didn't say anything. Not a thank you or an explanation. She just hugged and accepted Gail's in return for the moment. Then they let go and Gail nodded. It was moments like this that made Holly think Vivian was more Gail's daughter than hers. It was because they didn't need to talk, that Gail and Vivian could express their feelings in silence, that they seemed closer.

But it wasn't really true. When Vivian needed to talk, it was always to Holly. When she needed to unload her feelings and understand things, that was for Holly's ears. Gail was needed for other things. The same things Holly needed her for, in many ways. Both Holly and Vivian needed Gail be the rock. They needed someone who would survive the darkness and be there for them to fall apart on.

And Gail needed them for the exact same reason. They were, all of them, strong and capable in different ways.

She watched her daughter sit back down, taking a cup of coffee from Jenny who was being earnest. Gail was strong in the dark and the unknown. Vivian was strong in the storm. Holly was strong when it all fell down.

Pulling out her phone, Gail tapped and called her wife. Holly answered right away. She always was there when Gail needed her. "Hey. You okay?"

"I am. I love you."

Holly exhaled, saying so many things in that sound. "You sure you're okay?"

"Our kid is going to unwind with a few drinks tonight. And she's probably going to need you later."

"Ah." Holly sounded understanding. "Rodney's going to do the full autopsy on Ms. Reynolds tomorrow. I was going home."

"Want me to come home first?"

"Hm. No, you'd just have to leave to finish. Once you're home, I'd really like to have you for 24 uninterrupted hours."

Gail smiled. "They all pled guilty. Lawyers think we'll have my part done, except the trial, tonight. And Viv is benched for at least the rest of the week. So."

Holly made an amused noise. "We'll see. If the kid needs moms, we may stay."

"I was thinking she could come to the cottage too," said Gail, drawling her words. "You know the place isn't just so we can have hot and heavy sex."

Her wife laughed. "Touché. Try to get home tonight?"

"I will. My very intelligent wife taught me that the whole point of having minions was to make them work all night and come in and snatch up all the credit."

Holly laughed again. "Also documentation. Which is why you'll be done fast. You've written everything up, haven't you?"

"Chance favors the prepared mind," joked Gail, throwing one of Brian's quotes back at her. "But really... I love you, Holly. I'll see you soon."

"I love you too, honey."

The phone clicked off and Gail smiled. She was damn lucky to have her family and she knew it. Looking at what had happened to the Zanaro clan, she wondered if that was what the Pecks were headed for before she upended their apple cart. Were they self-destructive and suicidal? Most definitely.

They sure as hell weren't now.

Two beers in and Vivian finally felt like she wasn't twitchy anymore. It wasn't enough to get her drunk. Just enough to make her calm. Because Jesus tap dancing Christ had the day been weird.

"So." Lara sat down and poured Vivian a full glass. "Jenny can't figure out how to score today."

Blinking, Vivian looked over towards the stupid board. "We all kinda sucked," said Vivian.

"Sucky heroes. They wouldn't let us in on the raid."

Jenny scowled as she sat down again. "I don't know. Maybe we just net a zero for the day."

Christian sat beside Vivian and nearly put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know why. You guys did great."

"For captives," said Lara. "Oh and we're why they had to kick the raid up a couple days..."

Actually. Vivian cleared her throat. "If you think about it, Bobby found the guns so their timetable was going to be upended anyway." They all looked at her. "What?"

"So we screwed everything up and saved everything?" Lara looked skeptical.

"Pretty much. Let the old guard sort out your scores. I'd just give us all the net zero."

Jenny snorted. "You don't even like the scores in the first place."

That was true. "I don't," agreed Vivian. "I don't put a value like that on what we do."

Both Christian and Jenny, her fellow legacies, had the grace to look abashed. "Why are we cops?" Lara looked thoughtful as she asked.

"Because." Vivian sighed. "Some of us are on a power trip. Some of us are idealists. Some of us are a little crazy. And some of us are broken and trying make the world less shitty."

Her friends stared at her. Lara hesitated and started to ask, "Which-"

"Doesn't matter," said Christian, cutting her off.

Jenny nodded. "He's right..." She got up and walked over to the board, unpinning it and rolling it up. When she sat back down, she held it out to Vivian. "Keep or chuck?"

"Don't ask me, my mom's a minimalist." Vivian sipped her beer.

"Chuck." Jenny bent it in half a few times until it was a broken lump. "We should try to be better cops, not screw around with scores." She sighed. "Don't know how we'll sort out drinks."

Lara smiled. "I do. I bought the last round. Viv got the first. Christian had the second. Next is yours. And Rich can buy for a week when he gets back."

"I'll drink to that." Vivian tapped her glass to Lara.

Jenny did the same. "So wait, are we allowed to call you Viv now?"

They joked about things like that most of the evening. The old guard came by to check on them, buy drinks which Vivian put on her tab for later, and there was even a little of karaoke. Vivian finally was feeling less jittery and more relaxed. As they got closer to a time when it would be smart to go home, Christian sat next to her at the then empty table.

"Hey." He gestured at her glass. "Need another?"

"No. Thanks. I was thinking about going home and sleeping for 36 hours."

Christian nodded. "No kidding. That must have been scary as hell."

On the tip of her tongue was the pithy remark that she'd had worse days. Vivian just nodded, though. "It was. Glad Rich is okay, though." They'd stayed until he'd come out of surgery and woken up, which was surprisingly fast. Rich had been cranky as hell, but he was going to be just fine.

"Never thought you'd say that," said C with a grin. "Abercrombie asshole."

"Yes, but he's our Abercrombie asshole." Vivian grinned back. "If you'd been there, I bet we never would have gone in, in the first place."

Christian smiled. "Maybe. I just... When I heard the gun shots. I worried."

She blinked. "What?" He looked actually scared. "Worried about what?"

"About you. You know you're my best friend, right V?"

Vivian stared at Christian. She was pretty crap at friends. "Thanks, Christian. But I'm okay."

The man nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. I just... I had this fear. Y'know? That you'd die before I told you."

Grinning, Vivian put her glass down. She was sure she was missing something. "Told me? C, you're my friend, you can tell me whatever."

Pale and nervous, Christian nodded again. And then he leaned in and kissed her.

What the absolute fuck?

Vivian shoved him away and knocked her glass over as she got to her feet. "What the hell is wrong with you?" With the back of her hand, she wiped her mouth. The amount of wrongness that had just happened couldn't be measured.

"I needed- I had to, Viv!"

She gaped. "You are ... You're an idiot, Christian!" She shoved him in the chest, hard, as he moved closer again. "God. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I love you!"

The Penny had quieted in the moment and everyone was staring at them. Great. And worse, it started the stupidest argument Vivian had ever been a part of. Jenny seemed to think Christian's declaration was romantic, while Lara was pissed he just kissed her. And the other non-rookies, but still the new guard, they seemed to be fairly divided on the matter.

As Christian reached for her arm, Vivian snapped. "Don't you dare," she said, her voice a snarl. "Don't you fucking dare touch me, Christian. You're my friend, but I swear I will forget that in a heartbeat."

"God, stop being a Peck, Vivian."

Now. It was possible Christian was just trying to make a joke, to defuse the situation. It didn't work. Vivian bristled. All year long she'd been finding out exactly why Elaine had been against her being a Peck, how sharp that stupid sword was, and how people looked at her because she had chosen to be one. It was the last straw. Here was someone who should have understood, but was throwing it at her. And when he caught hold of her right wrist, Vivian turned.

Her left hand came up in a snapping jab, the kind Holly had taught her to help train Christian just a few months ago. The fist nailed Christian in the nose hard, square on. Blood spurted out and he staggered back. Her hand started to sting immediately. "Screw you," said Vivian, snarling.

Lara moved towards Vivian. "Woah, hey, Viv. You-"

"I'm going the hell home." Vivian grabbed her jacket. "Don't call," she shouted at Christian, who was holding his nose. Ignoring the shouts of Jenny, who was calling out her name, and Lara, who was trying to find out if Vivian was okay, she stormed out of the Penny. Not a single person had the balls to stop her in what Holly would no doubt call 'full Peck mode.'

She'd cooled off by the time she walked back to her bike. The anger at Christian was gone, replaced by annoyance at him and everyone else. Even if she had been interested in him that way, grabbing someone and kissing them was not cool. So what if she broke his stupid nose? Why the hell would Jenny take his side?

Why were there even sides to this? Ugh. She kicked at the slush on the side of the road and walked into the Division parking lot. Her helmet was in her top box, safe from the weather, and her bike had its cover on. Cover. Helmet. Then home. Maybe her moms wouldn't mind if she wanted to get blitzed. Drunk sounded nice right now. Drunk and safe and sound. She yanked the cover off and winced. "Fuck."

Her left hand was swollen already. Never hit them in the face like that. That was what Gail had said, and then told her about the time she'd punched Nick. It had sounded funny at the time, and now it felt prophetic. Crap her hand hurt. Using the clutch was going to be a bitch. The cover wasn't too wet, so she folded it up and popped the top box to put it in place of her helmet.

Just picking up the helmet hurt. Ugh. This was going to suck. Vivian tried to start the bike and shift into gear and her heart sunk. "Shit. Shit. Shit." She turned the bike off and wanted to bash her head into the wall. Not only had she punched her best friend in the city, she'd fucked up her hand.

It was enough to make her want to cry. Instead, she pulled her phone out and tapped a number. "Mom. Can you pick me up at the station?" Vivian knew her voice was quavering. It probably wasn't making her mom feel better.

To her credit, the only thing Holly asked was if Vivian wanted to leave her bike at the station or not. Vivian hesitated and Holly said she'd be right there. Thankfully, no one came by and Holly did show up remarkably fast. In a taxi. "Give me your keys."

"Thanks," mumbled Vivian, handing over a helmet as well.

Riding back on a bike meant they couldn't talk, which was just fine by Vivian. The moment they walked into the house though, Holly hugged her. Then her mother slapped her shoulder and hugged her again. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," said Vivian, and instead of trying to squirm away, she hugged Holly tightly. "I'm okay, Mom. I really am."

"You called me to drive you home and you're not drunk. You had a hell of a day. And you were almost crying on the phone, Vivian. I love you, you're not okay." She held Vivian at arm's length, studying her face seriously. "You look like Gail."

Vivian wasn't sure what that meant. "Okay?"

"You look a little tired. And a little sad. And a little relieved." Holly tilted her head. "And like you want to get drunk and I should probably hide the scissors."

That was all true, too. Except for the scissors part. "Right now I'm just tired, Mom. And sore." She held up her left hand.

Holly frowned and plunked Vivian on a stool, sitting across from her. "What happened to your hand?" She took a hold of it and gently probed the damage. "Who did you hit? Gail said you had your lungs cleared at the hospital."

Vivian stared at her hand as that went on. It was already dark and swollen. "Oh. Yeah, they're fine. I bruised the hell out of my hand on Christian's face."

Her mother scowled more. "You punched one of your best friends?"

"Yeah..." She exhaled. "Can you be secret keeper Mom who's my friend?"

Still inspecting Vivian's hand, Holly was gently bending fingers back, watching as Vivian winced. "Do you want me to twirl my hair and chew gum?"

It made Vivian laugh. Neither of her mothers were girly in that way. "He kissed me."

The hand poking stopped and Holly stared. "What? And you cold cocked him?" Vivian nodded, a little morosely. "What ... The hell?" Holly got up and got an icepack out. "Why the hell did he kiss you?"

"He was worried about me. So at the Penny, y'know, we were unwinding. I didn't want to come home all wired. And he kissed me." She shook her head. "I really don't understand boys."

"God, do not try me either," said Holly. "What a tremendous asshole move there. What did he think, life was a movie?"

"He is not the guy I'm gonna fall in love with," said Vivian firmly.

Her mother smiled. "You couldn't use the clutch could you?"

Vivian shook her head and let Holly wrap the icepack to her hand. "No, and I wanted to cry."

"You have tomorrow off, so at least there's that." Holly kissed her forehead and went to make her something to eat.

Since she'd been with Rich when he'd been shot, Vivian had longer than a day off. "I have a week," she said. "Off. Andy said it wasn't negotiable. Which is probably as big a word as she knows."

Holly snorted. "Don't be a Peck," she said, admonishingly. "Nothing's broken, but you're going to feel like shit tomorrow."

"Makes me glad I hit him with the left." Vivian test clenched her fist a couple times.

"Leave it alone," Holly scolded. "Next time aim for something softer. The gut."

Vivian grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

Holly rolled her eyes. "You're coming to the cottage with us tomorrow, then. As an apology for not coming home right away."

"Sorry. I wanted... I don't know. It was just nice to be normal for a bit." She'd wanted to be teased and congratulated and have her back pounded. Vivian wanted to get told off by Nick and Andy, then cheered by them for being a cop. She wanted... She wanted to be normal for just a little while. "Of course, then C kissed me, and I hit him, and now everyone probably thinks I'm a bitch and a Peck for turning him down."

Her mother sighed. "Or maybe just a raging lesbian. Honestly people are such idiots."

Vivian smiled. "You're pretty cool, Mom. You know that, right?"

"Not to sound all Gail, but I had figured that out." Holly smiled back. "Well I guess that answers that, though."

"What? The is Viv gay question?" Holly nodded at her and Vivian made a face. "It was gross. It just felt all ... It felt wrong and weird and awkward. And not like the time I kissed that girl and she slapped me."

Holly laughed softly. "That was interesting. Carol, right?" That had happened at the Penny. Vivian, at twenty-two, had been flirting with Carol all night and thought Carol was flirting back. There had been knee touching, lip looking, and Carol had leaned in to her. "I think you should avoid kissing at the Penny, Viv."

"I should just be a nun." Vivian sighed and put her head on the table. "Can I drink?"

"Bourbon or ice cream?"

"¿Por que no los dos?"

When Gail came home, they were on their second bowl and Vizzini was arguing with Inigo about the best way to defeat the Man in Black. "Vivian, why is your bag still here?"

"Uh... Oh, because forensics has my gun and my badge is in my pocket." She pulled it and held it up. With a thanks, Gail took the badge and headed upstairs. "Rule one. Always safe your gun."

Holly shook her head. "Why do you guys lock up your badges? I never asked..."

"So people don't steal our badges and pretend to be us." Vivian yawned. "Didn't Mom tell you about the time someone stole her spare uniform?"

"There are a billion Pecks in Toronto," said Gail, grumpily. "They had to pick me. I'm still shocked no one yelled at me about it. I have a headache. Who has the bourbon?" Vivian handed the bottle over with her right hand. "Uh, junior. What happened?"

"She banged it up at the Penny," said Holly. "Sit with me, Gail."

Never one to argue about those things, Gail poured a glass and settled in next to Holly. "Fine, don't tell me. Where are we?" She looked at the television thoughtfully just in time to see Inigo swear on the soul of his father.

As one, all three recited the next line as Westly spoke: "Throw me the rope."

Sometimes all you needed was a night with your family.

The sun warmed the bedroom and Holly stirred. She loved the way the light came in through the cottage windows. Smiling happily, she rolled over and found the bed devoid of her wife. That wasn't as happy making. "Gail?" Holly sat up and found her glasses, sliding them on and letting the world come back into shape and form.

No one was in the bedroom or the bathroom. Holly sighed and lay back down, listening to the sounds of the house. Animals on snow. The creak of wood. The crackle of a fire. She inhaled and smelled something sweet. Ah. Gail was up and baking. Maybe she should go back to sleep.

They'd been up fairly late, the three of them. Vivian, giving in to parental pressure, rode with them in the car and actually drove much of the way. She'd inherited her mother's distaste of Holly's winter driving. But they enjoyed the drive, singing along with music older than their daughter, stopping at the store for supplies, and then settling in to the cottage with a fire and some good whiskey.

The singing went on for a little while longer, mostly from Vivian and Gail who actually could carry a tune. They talked about sports and the opera and things they all loved (like Doctor Who). By two, Vivian went to bed, claiming she needed to catch up on sleep. Gail and Holly had stayed on the couch a little longer, watching the fire and enjoying just being together in a quiet moment.

When the fire burnt down to embers, they went upstairs to the master suite and, under the warm quilt that Holly's grandmother had made years ago, reacquainted themselves with each other. It was cold, even with the heat on, and any time they weren't actually under the covers it was worth squealing over. Though that was mostly Gail.

The cold didn't bother Holly. She was too busy reveling in the sensation of Gail's smooth skin against her own. She got lost in the taste of her wife, the smell and sound of the woman she'd been married to for nearly twenty years. And in moments like that, in moments where she was consumed by the weight and power of her feelings where there was only the outward expression of physicality... Well you could've dropped a bomb and Holly might not have noticed.

She smiled, thinking about how Gail had played her body like a virtuoso played a violin. And damn Gail for introducing her to the beauty of classical music. But damned if she wasn't right. Damned if she wasn't good. Gail was a natural lesbian. She may have only slept with one woman, Holly, but she'd sorted out things in rapid order. Holly grinned at the various memories of things Gail had been found to be skilled at.

A rap at the door caught her attention back to the now. "Mom?"

"I'm awake," said Holly, yawning and putting dirty thoughts to the side.

"Ah, but are you decent?" The door cracked open and Holly saw a coffee mug held up.

"Vivian. In this moment I have never loved you more." Holly grinned and sat back up. "I'm also not the nudist in the family."

Vivian laughed as she poked her head in. "Yeah, that's still funny. I mean, you're a doctor. Naked people are just naked people."

"Speaking of my wife, where is she?"

"Cooking." Vivian bumped the door open and came in holding two coffee mugs.

"How's the hand?"

Vivian looked at it as put the MOM mug down on the nightstand. "Okay. I can probably ride my bike without wanting to cry now." She sat in the comfy chair with her own KID one. The newest mug in the collection had been a present from Oliver.

Newest. It was over fifteen years old. "Why are you up?"

"Mom woke me up."

But Vivian was dressed in winter running clothes and thick wool socks. "Liar. Where'd you go running?"

"Just around the lake a bit." Vivian sipped her coffee. A small, five or seven kilometer run, depending on her route.

Holly inhaled the scent of the coffee. "Even I take a break up here, kiddo."

Her daughter shrugged. "I wasn't up all night having sex." She smirked at Holly and looked very much like Gail in that moment.

"It wasn't all night." Holly smiled. "You know, you could bring a girlfriend up here, if you wanted."

"That would involve keeping one for more than a couple weeks, Mom," said Vivian with a sigh. She tucked her long legs up, hugging them with one arm. "Beth dumped me. By text."

Holly tilted her head and studied her daughter's face. Even if Vivian had grown up to look like her own person, which was inevitable, Holly still saw herself etched in the smile and the way Vivian laughed. The eyes, though, they were all Gail in the way they studied everything. Right now they were looking out the window, a little lost in thought.

"You know... I don't know what the right reply is here, honey," said Holly at length. Vivian startled and looked at her. "I want to tell you I really don't care if you never find anyone or date, but I do."

"Do want me to find someone or ...?"

"Well. Not to be all Gail, but sex is pretty awesome, and I think you share that opinion." Her daughter laughed. "Right. Thought so. I just ... I want you to be safe and healthy and happy."

Vivian's expression softened. "Mom. I am." She paused. "Okay, most of the time. I am happy."

It was always so hard to see on the outside. Just as hard on the inside, Holly had learned. "You look like you need a hug."

From the doorway, Gail spoke up. "I wouldn't. She smells like nasty sweat. Have you noticed that all the special running gear reeks more?"

"Thanks, Mom." Vivian laughed.

"Any time, kiddo. Bagels are done." Gail sat next to Holly and leaned in to kiss her. "Morning." Her voice was soft and almost tender.

Holly couldn't help but smile. "Morning." Gail smiled back and brushed hair away from Holly's face.

"Okay, if you guys are going to be all sappy and look at each other like that, I'm going to shower."

Kissing Holly again, Gail turned. "Look at each other like what?"

"Like you haven't seen each other in months. It's really annoying." Getting up, Vivian kissed Gail's cheek and then Holly's before heading back out. "But... Never stop," she said as she reached the door. "I mean it."

Holly smiled. "I know, Viv." She kept a hand on Gail's thigh. While she still worried a little about what her daughter would become, where she'd be in another year or two, what kind of woman and police officer she would be, it wasn't something to be answered today. "Go shower. And figure out what you want for your birthday, huh? Twenty-four's a big one."

It was Gail who winced. "Oh no. No no, my child is not almost quarter century!"

"Give up, Mom. You're fifty." Vivian sang as she headed down the stairs. "Gaaaaaail Peck is fifty, she's ooooold."

The singing went on and Holly smothered a laugh as Gail looked horrified. "She's your daughter."

"This is your fault, you know," said Gail, complaining half heartedly. "You wanted to get married so we could adopt."

"Pretty sure that's not how I presented it." Holly finished her coffee.

Taking the empty mug out of Holly's hand, Gail grumbled. "Pretty sure it was." She leaned in and kissed the side of Holly's neck, sending shivers down Holly's spine. "Now that we're alone, you wanna work on child number two?"

Holly burst out laughing and shoved Gail away. "You are insane, Gail." She got out of bed and heard her wife groan and flop onto the mattress. "I want to shower, brush my teeth, eat some breakfast, and then be absolutely, utterly, totally, lazy."

"I just want to be naked." Gail was whining.

"Showers involve nudity, Peck."

There was a pause and, as Holly went into the bathroom, she heard the bedroom door shut. Holly smiled and got out of her sloppy sweats and into the shower. There was all the time they needed to figure things out.

Chapter Text

Springtime was Holly's favorite season. It was the glorious time in the end of April, between Vivian's birthday and Holly's, a scant 6 weeks before her wedding anniversary, where there was absolutely nothing familial hanging over them. Spring meant she'd take half days twice a week and garden. Lily had emailed a layout for the year, with a list of what to grow and why, and Holly actually enjoyed the work of gardening.

The sun was shining, the breeze was a little chilly, and yet Holly was humming as happy as she'd been in months. Happier. The seasons changed and she knew her mood did too. More sun outside meant her body felt lighter. She slept better. She was less touchy. She smiled more. Holly sighed and looked up at the sky and her house, smiling.

She loved her house. While Holly had adored the townhouse she'd bought, and while she and Gail had made it their home, the roominess of the house they had now was so welcoming. It was the right size for them, and likely still would be after Vivian moved out. If she moved out. And if not, well, that would still be okay.

Lately Vivian had been making mentions that she was thinking about moving out. They were the same sorts of subtle remarks Viv made back when she wanted to change her name. Holly stretched and thought about that. Their kid wasn't direct like Gail, she was more of a sneaky thinker who dropped random hints before a big one.

Hadn't that been how it went with the name? It started after Matty had gotten beat up. Vivian had made a passing comment about how it was good to have Peck backup, and she was glad Gail let her help. "Sneaky girl," muttered Holly and she knelt back by her project.

The flowers were going to make the yard beautiful. They were bright colors. Gail always wanted to plant food but they didn't have the time to do that. Maybe when she retired she could grow vegetables. Up at the cottage. Gail would never want to retire up there, though. She liked it as an escape from the city. The one place the Pecks never ruined for her.

Holly smiled. She liked the cottage too. Gail hadn't explained how big it was, practically a house, when she had first told Holly about it. A small cottage by the lake. Right. It was almost the size of their house, on the lake, with a dock and boat shed and miles of quiet land to roam when they wanted. And the Pecks had owned the land for generations.

Sitting on her haunches, Holly studied the layout of the flowers and frowned. Something was wrong.

"The red ones go on the left."

Startling, Holly fell to the side, catching herself with one arm. "Jesus fuck, Gail, don't do that!" Holly's heart was thudding like mad and she had no idea how she'd not jumped out of her skin. Scowling, she looked over her shoulder and saw her impish wife sucking on a smoothie.

"Sorry." Gail held out a smoothie. "Green machine?"

Damn it, Gail knew her well. "Help me up, you asshole."

Gail put the drinks down on the deck and she gently tugged Holly to her feet. "Hey, sweetheart." The smile on Gail's face was irresistible and Holly sighed and kissed her. "They do go on the left, though. Your mom sent me the layout and the list. I've got the fertilizer."

She looped her arms around Gail's neck. "Thank you. You're still an asshole."

"True." Gail smiled and rested her hands on Holly's waist. She inhaled and smiled more. "It's going to be very colorful this year."

"Well. Mom's coming out next month."

Gail made a face. "Happy anniversary. Can't we run away and hide?"

Their mothers had planned the party. Gail wasn't really keen on it. "Twenty years. Not a chance. We have a party. We have a nice hotel room. Work on kid number two."

Smothering a laugh, Gail kissed her. "There's this hot doctor who told me that isn't how it works."

"Doesn't mean we can't try." Holly let her voice linger teasingly. "Want to help me plant flowers?"

"Only if that's a euphemism." Leering, Gail kissed her once more and let go. "I'm going to finish up a report and then cook dinner. I sent our minion out to get ingredients. Grilled apricots, burrata, the rest of the ham from last weekend, sliced real thin. Something light. If the arugula looks good, that can go with it. Oh and bread."

Holly watched Gail saunter back inside and smiled after her. Impish, puckish, silly. Gail Peck could be annoying and frustrating. But she always made sure Holly knew she was adored. "Love you too, honey," called out Holly, picking up her smoothie.

"I know! Your bag of shit is in the garage."

Shaking her head, Holly sipped the smoothie before moving the red flowers to the other side. Gail was right, that looked better. The fertilizer came last, pouring it on the way Lily had taught her years ago, and Holly finished as the sun was dipping downward and her daughter came outside to start the grill.

"Looking nice, Mom. I like this year's layout."

"Thanks, kiddo. How was your shift?"

Vivian shrugged. "C swapped with Lara again. I can't believe Andy is just letting that go. I mean, Jesus, it's been months."

Holly sat on the wood chair and exhaled, feeling every second of her age. "Honey, you broke his nose."

"Yeah, well." Vivian grumbled under her breath. She'd eventually told Gail what had happened. The blonde had sighed and said that he was lucky all Viv broke was his nose, but she'd been inclined to let Vivian work through it on her own. Which meant it had been three and a half months since Vivian had spoken more than a few words with her former closest friend in Toronto.

As a 'replacement' friend, Lara had been filling the void. If Viv wasn't off doing something ninja like with her ETF friends, she was hanging out with Lara and, by extension, Jenny. The girls had become friends, and that was nice, Holly thought. Jenny had actually come over to the house, on her own, to apologize about taking Christian's side in the Penny. No explanation, just an apology.

They didn't like coming over to the house, Vivian's new friends. Apparently Gail was intimidating and so was Holly. That was funny, to Holly at least, but it meant Vivian was out a lot more. And in many ways, that was also good. She was finally coming out of her shell.

"Yeah, well," replied Holly, smiling. "Where is your mother?"

"Cursing at someone in her office."

That was never good. Holly tapped her watch and drew a frown face, sending it to Gail. In return, she got a smiling pile of poop. Everyone's favorite. Then, however, she got an 'On my way!' Good. "She's almost done. I need a beer. You?"

"Eh, sure," said Vivian with a heavy shrug.

Holly levered herself up, stretched, and then hugged her daughter. "Hey. Stop being the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, honey."

The girl leaned into the hug for a moment. "Sorry. I only came in super deep and thoughtful. Maybe Vivian 2.0 will be more fun."

"You're plenty fun," said Holly firmly. "You're just really serious all the time and I love you, but you should come down from your tree once in a while."

Vivian made a face. "Run wild? Sleep around? Get a tattoo?"

Holly laughed. "I would love to see Gail's head explode if you had a tattoo. She still thinks mine are weird."

Pausing, Vivian turned to eye Holly suspiciously. "You have a tattoo? Scratch that, you have multiple tattoos? How do I not know this?"

"Gail's the nudist." Holly shrugged. Her tattoos were the result of Lisa's horrible influence. They were also small and in places that were covered even by her most daring swimsuits and, unlike Gail, the only time the hot tub was enjoyed naked was if they were at the cottage alone. At least the content of the tattoos were tame.

Rather than talk about nudity, though, Holly got the beer as Gail arrived with the food to be grilled. She watched her two Pecks banter and harass each other, like they did, about cooking. Gail wanted to sauté the arugula in a pan on the grill, Vivian disagreed, and yet they ended up doing it Gail's way.

Her not so covert watching was interrupted when Vivian spoke up. "Mom's totally checking you out again."

"I have a fantastic ass," agreed Gail, smirking. "She used to check my ass out when I was in uniform."

"Ew. Mom's a badge bunny?"

Holly grinned. "Don't worry, I find your mother as attractive in her uniform as out."

Before Vivian could voice her views, Gail spoke. "And you've seen the calendar. Holly in that lab coat is ..." She sighed loudly. "Kid, your mom is hot. Sexy librarian is totally my thing."

Smiling fondly, Holly mouthed 'I love you' to Gail. Vivian signed something faster than Holly could read and Gail smacked her shoulder, laughing. "Not at the table," Holly said, admonishingly.

Her Pecks were a never ending supply of amusement at least.

"Hey I saw your ex," said Lara as Vivian parked her bike.

"Which one? I seem to have a collection of them." Vivian tossed the cover on her bike.

"The nurse. Beth. Some chick was dumping her at Dripz."

It was wrong, but Vivian smiled. "Please tell me she threw coffee in her face."

Lara looped her arm through Vivian's in the friendly way. "No, but she called her a cheating bitch."

"That helps." Vivian wriggled, getting herself free. "Don't hug me."

"See, you need to get over that. Cuddle."

"Pecks aren't cuddly," said Chloe, bounding up behind them and hugging them both. Because she was Chloe and that's what she did.

"This isn't how I communicate, Sergeant," complained Vivian.

Hugging her again, Chloe let go. "I need to borrow your bestie, Peck."

"Have fun." She waved at Lara who mouthed 'save me' as Chloe dragged her off. Vivian grinned, thankful that whatever Chloe's scheme de jour was, it didn't involve her. Oh she liked Chloe just fine. The woman was warm and kind and endlessly patient when it came to coaching Vivian through her brief foray into acting back in high school (amusing note: neither Gail nor Holly had any stage experience at all). But Chloe was a lot to take in. Even now, at nearly fifty, she was exuberant and bubbly.

Still grinning and thinking about what she'd avoided, Vivian turned to the lockers and caught Christian's eye. He scowled and looked both annoyed and guilty at the same time. Then he rushed into the mens' locker room. Ugh. Men.

It was the same at Parade. Rich looked oddly apologetic when he sat down on the end of the table. He'd taken her side for what he said was an obvious reason. Vivian saved his life. That was an exaggeration, but she let it go. She didn't think there were sides to be taken, either. C had been an idiot. She popped him one. All he had to do was apologize and she would and then it would be done. Weren't boys supposed to be simple?

Rich pulled out his log book. "Hey, where's Volk?"

"Snagged by Price for more surveillance." They had all done a stint lately. It most consisted of them running coffee and being asked weird questions. Vivian was pretty sure they were all being checked out for the inevitable detective rotation. It would probably be autumn before the slot opened up.

"Glad it's someone else's turn." Rich shook his head. He and Chloe didn't get along.

McNally walked in, ending casual conversation. "Okay, boys and girls. It's springtime. That means what, Fuller?"

"Uh. Spring break?"

Andy smiled. "Yes. Which means anyone who can't be out on the beaches is going to be drinking it up here. Plus this week is Friday the thirteenth and a full moon, so watch yourselves."

While Rich scoffed, Vivian sighed. He eyed her. "Come on, that's a joke, right?" Vivian shook her head and Rich looked worried.

"Assignments are on the board. Serve, protect, enjoy the sunshine." Andy rapped the podium and dismissed them, walking over to the side to talk to Traci about something.

Vivian flipped her log book closed and stood up, checking her assignment (patrol with Christian). The conservatory was open again, though, so at least that was on her patrol route for the day.

She turned to look for Christian only to have Jenny pop up in front of her. "Guess who's swapping?"

"Again? He's such a child." Vivian shook her head. "McNally okay with it?"

Jenny nodded. "She said you guys have to work it out on your own."

"I'd be happy to, if he'd talk to me."

"I don't think punching his face is talking." Jenny mimed a punch and grinned. When Vivian flipped her off, she just laughed. "Come on, grumpy Peck. You can drive."

That helped a little. "Alright. I'll buy coffee."

At least it was warm enough to just wear a long shirt and the vest. The jacket had a tendency to be both too hot and too cold. They could not, of course, ride around with the windows down. Yet. Soon it would be warm enough. Then it would be too hot.

They drove up and down the patrol area, keeping the peace. While it was spring, it was quiet. "This feels like it's going to be another boring day." Jenny grumbled and looked around.

"Oliver said if the day is boring, we did our jobs right."

"I liked Oliver," said Jenny. "How do you know him so well?"

"He was Mom's TO, and then partner sometimes, and Sergeant, and then Inspector." Vivian smiled. "He's basically my uncle. His oldest two kids used to babysit me, and I babysat his youngest."

Jenny was quiet for a long moment. "Holy crap. Hashtag shocked."

"You and Lara need to stop that shit."

"You aren't even on Facebook, are you?" Jenny was teasing.

Of course, Vivian was, but she barely used it anymore. After Matty had been bullied, she kept the hell off it and so did he. "Social media. Great way for people to learn about you."

Jenny waggled a finger. "This is why you're single."

"I didn't ask your opinion on my love life."

"Or lack thereof." Jenny smiled. "Sorry, not my business. But what is, is you are really good at picking out dresses."

Vivian glanced over. "Is that code for 'Vivian please come over tonight and help me pick out a dress for my internet date?' Because you could just ask."

"You do not speak girl," said Jenny. "I mean, really, are you sure you're a lesbian?"

"Being a girl does not give me a great insight on them." Vivian sighed. "Fine, but I want beer."

"Beer and a story after. And yes, I met her on a dating website, which you should try."

"Was it cops-only dot com?" When Jenny blushed, Vivian laughed. "That's the one John- Sgt. Simmons used to find his girlfriend."

Jenny was surprised. "How long has Silver Fox Simmons worked for your mom?"

"With, twenty-one years. He was her first partner as a D." Like Oliver, John was an uncle. Seeing him terrified of Elaine had made him more likable, Vivian remembered that.

"You were really screwed, weren't you? There's nowhere they don't know you."

"At least they like me," said Vivian, smiling.

"You're cryptic, quiet, keep to yourself, and barely say anything about yourself. Doesn't that drive them crazy? I mean, God, the surveillance with Price?"

Vivian grinned. "We have history."

It wasn't like Vivian minded that she was permanently tied to everyone at Fifteen. There was something protective about having them there, forever. It meant she would always have a place.

Their radio crackled. "Officers needed at Allan Gardens."

"We're right there," noted Vivian, turning the car.

Jenny picked up the radio. "Dispatch, 1508. We're less than five out."

"1508, copy. Report is a homeless man sleeping under the ... Some flowers. I can't read that. Sorry."

Laughing, Jenny responded. "Copy, Dispatch. Flowers it is." As she hung up, Jenny smirked. "I kind of miss Tassie. Remember how she used to pronounce things?"

"She nearly got us killed, Jenny. There was no way she was keeping that job."

"I heard she was working at St. Pats now."

Vivian shuddered and she parked the car. "God I hope not." They got out and turned on their body-cameras. As they walked to the conservatory, Vivian lingered by the plaque mounted on a wall. Special thanks to Dr. Lily Stewart. Every time Lily was in town, they came here to look at the various new plants.

"Hi," smiled Jenny at the security guard. "You rang?"

The guard and a docent explained someone was sleeping in the Palm House, and proceeded to give them directions. "In the Palm House? In this weather?" Vivian made a face. "That place is muggy in winter."

"You don't know the zoo but you know the plant house?"

"My grandmother's a botanist. She worked here sometimes, before she moved to Vancouver."

"Is ... Is like everyone a doctor? On that side of the family I mean."

Vivian nodded. "Yep. Up to here with Dr. Stewarts." She held a hand above her head and Jenny laughed.

They went into the Palm House and Vivian led them to the spot where she could just make out a dirty jacket. Jenny did too. "Hi, sir," said the other officer. She glanced at Vivian and squatted, reaching over.

The man surged, scaring Jenny into landing on her ass. And then he laughed. "You fell! Hah hah hah! She fell!"

Vivian smirked. "Cute." She held out a hand for Jenny. "You know you can't sleep here, sir."

"Bah," grumbled the man, sitting back under the plants. "I like it here. Better than the street."

"Really?" Vivian looked around while Jenny dusted herself off. "It's humid, it's kinda rank. I mean, have you smelled the flowers over there? The ones that smell like dead bodies?" She shuddered.

"Smells better than the piss in the alleys," countered the man.

"You have a point." Vivian grinned. "But. We gotta kick you outta here. You know that."

He crossed his arms. "I'm just gonna come back. Spend days here. It's safe. No fucking college dicks screwing with you."

And he had another point. Jenny sighed. "I'm not saying you're wrong."

"But you're gonna haul me out? Arrest me."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Come on, man. Name a place. We'll take you wherever you want to go. Any shelter. Train station. Whatever."

"I hate trains. Shelters are full."

Aha. "I got that," she said to Jenny and took a few steps away to radio that in. While Jenny continued to chat with the man, Vivian called dispatch to find her a spot in a shelter nearby.

It was harder than she liked, finding a place for the man to sleep for the night. In a way, it would be both easier and harder if he was a veteran. But the system was just overloaded. It was terrible. The longer she talked, the more the homeless man laughed. "She can't find a place," he cackled and pointed at her. "Dumb Dyke."

Vivian pointedly ignored it.

"Peck..." Jenny sounded worried.

"I'm on hold with a place up the road."

"No, not that. Do you smell that?"

Vivian blinked and looked at Jenny, confused. Smell? She shook her head. "Just plants." Vivian inhaled deeply.

So did the homeless man. "Not again! Those shits!" He surged to his feet and reached into the plants behind him, pulling out a smoking cart. No. A burning cart. There were flames.

"Holy shit! Uh, call me back, please!" Vivian hung up on the secretary at the shelter and shoved her phone into a pocket, slapping her radio with her free hand and calling in the fire.

Jenny grabbed the homeless man to pull him away. "For Christ's sake, it's just stuff, let it go!"

"It's all my stuff!"

Of course he cared. Of course Jenny didn't understand. She hadn't spent six months living with all her belongings in a pair of bags. And then another three wondering if the women she was living with were really temporary. How long did she get to be at the nice house with nice ladies who were silly. No. Most people didn't understand when 'just stuff' was all you had.

Where were the fire extinguishers? Vivian turned and remembered Lily telling her that they used sprinklers. Of course. They had to. The plants were rare. And there had been a fire a million years ago, back when photos were sepia by default and not some shitty filter. That was when they rebuilt and put in fire suppression methods. Vivian looked up. The sprinkler was out of reach. By the time the fire was high enough, they'd be screwed.

Faucets. There had been one where they walked in, but Vivian remembered... Watering. She ran for the door to the utility closet. No time to ask for a key. She put her whole weight into the kick, splintering the door easily. Well it wasn't meant to be super secure.

Vivian grabbed the hose, making sure it was hooked into a spigot, turned it on and dashed back, uncoiling it as she ran. As soon as the water caught up with her, she covered the nozzle with her thumb to aim at the cart full of stuff. Hopefully the man didn't have any paper or electronics in there...

By the time the fire department came, the smoke was dying out and the homeless man was thanking them for saving his stuff. Very little had been lost, and Jenny was tying to make sure he could keep it.

"Hey, officer?" The fireman, a burly guy, looked worried. "Can you come here?"

Vivian glanced at Jenny and walked over. "Sure. What's up?"

The fireman pushed back the curtain of palm fronds and showed a well dressed young man, preppy and clean cut, and very dead. "That... Is a problem."

"Yeah," sighed Vivian, reaching for her radio.

She never thought she'd miss Tassie in dispatch, but right now she sure did.

"It's probably good Noelle retired," said Traci as she handed the report over to Gail. "She was pathologically terrified of fire."

Gail arched her eyebrows. "Fire? No wonder she never came to the cabin. Why are you working this case anyway?"

"Last homicide." Traci shrugged and looked out of Gail's windows. "You sure?"

Smiling, Gail flipped the report open. "I'm sure. Oliver's been giving me shit about not doing this for years anyway."

Traci looked suspicious. "Steve was never going to go. It didn't matter."

"That too." Gail frowned. "Why aren't these on the network? Can that be your last job as homicide lead? Finish the modernization?"

Her friend smiled. "Unlikely. I've been making all my rookies for the last ten years do input. We're nowhere near done with the backlog."

"Still the fastest way to learn the system." Gail skimmed the report, her eyes stopping on a name. "Peck and Aronson hauled the homeless guy out?"

"Yeah. Someone set his stuff on fire. I'm waiting on the video feeds, but it feels like some prank gone wrong."

Gail flipped through the pictures. "College kids? School's almost over. Can't be a rush."

"Graduation pranks?"

"Okay, there is that." Gail paused and frowned as she saw graffiti. "Who the hell... If you find out who did that, I'll give you a raise."

Traci laughed. "I thought that came with the promotion."

Smiling, Gail leaned back. "Inspector Traci Nash, head of Guns and Gangs."

"You really think Zettel can do the job?"

"Not as good as you, but ... You've been using him as your sergeant for five years, Traci. Gotta cut him loose and let him run the show. Besides, it's not like we're making Duncan head of anything."

They both laughed. "Okay, fair point." Traci sighed. "Zettel, head of homicide. Do you think this is how Ollie felt when you got promoted?" Of course Oliver had been their inspector when Gail had been put in charge of OC.

"Probably." Gail didn't really feel afraid though. She'd seen people come and go now for twenty five years. No. Forty years. She'd been ten when her uncle, Bill's brother, had died. That had been the first time she'd been to an End of Watch call, and the first time she'd seen someone take over a position. It had been her mother, not her father, who took over the position of head of homicide.

Elaine hadn't been ready at all. Now, with retrospect and all her experience, she remembered the look in her mother's eyes, and Gail knew it was fear. The mighty Elaine Peck had been scared to take over homicide. Gail had been scared to take over Organized Crime. Traci was scared to take over as head of Guns and Gangs. Hell, even Holly had been scared to take over of Chief Medical Examiner.

"You ... You look so calm about all this, Gail. I remember when we were scared to death rooks."

"Oh I'm still scared to death, Trace. Every day I think someone's going to realize I have no clue what the hell in doing." She smiled. "Until then, though, I keep doing the best job I can."

Traci smiled. "That's good advice. When did you get so smart?"

"Around the time my kid stopped being a teenager."

They both laughed. "Oh god, yes, teen years are the worst," agreed Traci. "Leo took the job in Texas."

Gail blinked, surprised. "Wow. He's leaving?"

"Yeah. Three months."

"Crap. We'll have to find someone to rent the place... You don't think Sophie will want it?"

"She said not." Traci shrugged.

For their college years, Sophie, Winnie, and Leo had made a Three's Company home out of the loft that had once been Bill Peck's. But then Sophie went to grad school at Stanford and Winnie took the oil job up north. Leo had technically been living there, alone, for a few years, but even he was barely home. The odd computer job he had sent him all over the world and, apparently now, to Texas. While Sophie had moved back, she was living and working with her friend Kate from her foster days.

"Good for him," said Gail decisively. "I haven't a clue what he does, but good for him."

Laughing, Traci gestured at the folder on Gail's desk. "Well, I'm waiting on your wife to ID a half charred preppy boy. Maybe I can send Rich undercover."

"Chloe called dibs. She's planning a sting." Gail couldn't help but smile a little maliciously.

"Ooooh, who gets to be the boy toy?"

"Probably Rich. He's got the look. I think Christian could pull it off if he tried. Dirty him up a bit."

"I want photos of your kid as a hooker."

Gail snorted. "As much as I think she'd be good at it, unlikely. She's too ..."

"Butch?"

"That. Which sucks. She'd be better than McNally."

"Anyone was better than Andy at that," agreed Traci, smirking. "God she was so terrible at undercover. Then ..."

When Traci paused, Gail nodded. "Then she spent six months with Nick... Wasn't that fun times?" Six months when Andy fell in love with Nick, who was supposed to be dating Gail, who had abandoned Gail when she needed him. Not that she'd been capable of asking him, to be honest. "Jesus I was a hot mess then."

"You'd had a shit year," Traci said softly.

"Couple of 'em. What the hell good came out of that?"

"Me." Traci smiled at her. "We got to be friends."

Gail laughed. "Wow, and people say I'm the vain narcissist."

"Well you are. I'm a realist." Traci grinned. "And an optimist."

"An optimist wouldn't be freaking out about taking over Guns and Gangs, Traci." Her sister-in-law flipped her off. "Fine! Fine. How's your last homicide going?"

"Thank you. Back logged. What's going on in the ME's office today? Rodney said no autopsy till tomorrow if I'm lucky."

Gail hesitated. Well. Traci was about to be her right-hand-man. "There was an archeological find this morning. A mass grave, looks like from the early 1900s, so Holly thinks it's from the Influenza outbreak. Which wouldn't be a big deal except we found it because of a relatively fresh body. So they have to run trace on everyone and check if any other bodies are modern."

Admittedly it was incredibly cool, or so Gail thought. Holly had been very excited about it at lunch, launching into full on babble mode. But the longer Holly's day got, and the more work she realized would have to be done now, the grumpier Holly became. She'd been trying to get a grant for the lab and this could make or break her.

"Oh wow." Traci was appreciatively shocked. "I'll make sure no one gives her guys shit."

"Appreciated. I don't know when I'll see my wife next."

"Meanwhile my husband will have a nine to five job and no extra hours."

Now Gail flipped off Traci, smirking. "No offense, I'll keep my wife."

"I would too," laughed Traci. "Well. If I'm going to be out an autopsy for a while, I'll send the rookies to pound the street. Flash a photo. At least we have an ID."

"Contact the family yet?"

Traci nodded. "They're not local so they won't be here to positive ID him till tomorrow."

Gail nodded. "Take the rookies and make 'em pound the street. Elaine would tell you that's why they're there."

That meant Gail was the first home at the end of the day. She made homemade Chinese food; pepper steak and brown rice. It was food she knew would re-heat well. As it cooked, she read over Traci's case notes. The dead body was weird. He was dressed wrong for the season and he wasn't in a make-out place. Too close to the nasty smelling plants.

When a bushed Vivian got home, Gail asked her about the location and she too admitted it struck her as odd. The only person who liked the smell of those plants was Holly, who loved corpse flowers. Why the Stewart family had been surprised that Holly was a pathologist, Gail would never know.

But Vivian had also spent more of her day getting the somewhat asshole homeless man they'd found to a shelter, and making sure he had clothes. Then Vivian made a passing comment about how living out of a bag wasn't comfortable before she went upstairs. Sometimes Gail forgot that her kid had spent half a year as a foster kid. Sometimes she forgot Vivian had barely unpacked at their townhouse for months.

That Vivian, the quiet little girl who called her Miss Gail and who barely smiled, felt like another person. It was like rookie Gail. No. Goth Gail. She was a bitch and a half. But then again, it was like how she didn't feel the same after Perik. Nothing had ever really felt the same after that, mused Gail as she boxed up lunches. That one moment, that one second where the door hit her face, and the world was totally different.

The same feeling had struck her the first time she'd hugged Vivian. Really hugged her. Like the world had shifted and there was an new order of things. She no longer was afraid of the world for her own sake. There was someone she had to protect and treasure at the risk of everything.

And then there was the moment in interrogation when she kissed Holly. That too was a moment where everything changed. It had been building for weeks, almost months, where Gail had felt a craving to be with the one person who made her feel ... She'd said that to Holly once, early in their friendship, and innocently Holly had asked "Feel what?" When Gail had shaken her head, Holly had just smiled and went on with the conversation.

Did Holly look back on that moment, that sentence, and realize what had been said? Or did she just take it on faith now, after almost twenty years of marriage, that it was what it was?

Gail tapped her watch, sending a heartbeat to Holly.

There were so many ways to say "I love you" without having to say the words that, even now, were a struggle to voice in public. In private was another matter. Alone, in Holly's arms where it was safe, it was easy. Even in their home it should have been easy. But it wasn't. They were words Gail honestly didn't remember hearing growing up. She couldn't recall her parents saying it to each other, let alone her.

So was it a surprise that Gail often faltered when trying to say, to show Holly that she loved her? The watch and it's stupid heartbeat, making a photo set of their youth, cooking dinner, getting the car cleaned, buying the wine she loved, changing the sheets, wearing her favorite nightie. Love. Sometimes that was easier.

Her watch pinged her back.

I ' m running late. Obviously. Science moves at its own pace. I love you too.

Gail smiled at the message and sent back a note that she understood, and dinner was in the fridge for when Holly got home.

It was hours before Holly got home, exhausted and grumpy. Gail was actually in bed reading when her wife dragged herself upstairs. She watched the doctor all but stumble through a shower and into her sleepwear and, finally, into bed. Holly mumbled a comment that was half a curse at work and half an endearment for Gail, and she was asleep in moments.

It was adorable.

Gail pulled the sheets up and over Holly's shoulder, putting her book down and curling up around the brunette. Her arm fit perfectly over Holly's waist, her body matched the curves right, making their position incredibly comfortable. The smell of Holly, the warm, oddly citrusy scent that wafted off her, was soothing.

Closing her eyes, Gail nestled in and relaxed.

When she woke up, the sun was peeking into their bedroom and Holly was toying with her hair. "Hey," whispered Gail.

"Hey." Holly kissed her shoulder. "Good morning." Warm and soft, Holly was pressed up against her back, her fingers moving from Gail's hair to her arm and then her side.

Enjoying the sensation, Gail closed her eyes and smiled. "Feels nice."

Holly didn't reply. She kept caressing Gail's side and arm, fingers gently traipsing along the fabric until she found Gail's collar and tugged it down to kiss the bare skin. It was early morning and Holly was amorous. This was not unusual. This had never been unusual.

Well. No. The first time Gail had woken up to the adventurous and roaming hands of Holly in the morning, it was surprising. Morning wood was a phenomenon she'd been familiar with and had taken advantage of on some occasions with boys. It was entirely unexpected from a lesbian. So from that end, yes, finding herself at the delightful mercy of Holly at four in the morning was unusual back then. It wasn't anymore.

Of course, it was still very much delightful, just as much then as it was now. When Holly sighed and slipped a hand under the hem of Gail's nightgown, it was very much as welcome as it had been those years ago. Holly knew her so well and especially how to make her burn, long and slow. It took a little longer to rev up their engines these days, but God, Holly was good at that.

In very little time at all, Gail was reduced to very small words. She tangled her hands in the sheets and Holly's hair, holding her wife close as she shuddered and gasped. "Morning," whispered Holly, stroking Gail's hair as she came back down to earth.

Gail exhaled a long breath. "You said that already."

"Seemed familiar." Holly's lips were soft on the curve of Gail's jaw. "Were you awake when I got home, or was I dreaming?"

"Awake." Gail shifted to her side and smiled. "Morning." She reached up to brush Holly's hair out of her face. "You were bushed."

"Mm. Archeological cases take a long time." Holly's brown eyes drifted closed as Gail began to return the attention that had been paid to her. "Remind me to call my mom later," asked Holly. Promising to do so, Gail eased one hand under the elastic of Holly's shorts. "Much later, oh, that feels so nice, Gail." The hands that had been exploring her moments ago were now gripping Gail's back and nightgown tightly.

And Holly cursed softly, the good way, as her back arched and her body tensed. And then it let go and Holly laughed her delight softly, like she often did. Smiling and laughing as Gail kissed her. "I love you too," said Gail, gently pulling her hand out and snuggling up along Holly's side.

Holly laughed again. "I needed that," she said, eyes closed and the goofy smile stuck on her face. "God, I needed that."

Yawning, Gail checked the clock. They had another hour at least. "Sleep, morning person. One more hour."

"One more hour," agreed Holly, snuggling close.

Sometimes the break in a case was when you expected to see one thing and yet you found another. Holly was used to that, frankly.

"Hello," she muttered as she studied the neck of the dead preppy boy on her table.

"Is that a good hello or a bad one?" Traci Peck (née Nash) walked in with the smell of coffee.

"Good. He didn't die in the fire." Holly pushed her glasses back up her nose with the back of her wrist. "I mean, fire is not on my list of preferred ways to die. The smoke and the burns? Nope. I'm for something quick or at least while drugged out of my mind." Holly tilted her head to focus on the discoloration. "Of course, being choked is not high on the list either. No signs of a struggle... I wonder if he was drugged. Well, we'll have tox reports soon enough. I put that in for you last night before I went home."

Track said nothing. To the point that Holly looked up, confused. Her sister-in-law was holding up her phone and had it aimed at Holly. "Thank you," said Traci, grinning.

"I'm not even going to ask." Holly shook her head. The Pecks all had a penchant for recording her talking.

"Probably wise. Is there a painless way to go?"

"Not so far as we're sure. It's not like you can ask people as they die to rate their pain."

The detective sighed. "So. Choked?"

"Yes, by a wide cloth. Maybe a scarf." Holly looked again and then pressed the floor pedal to raise the table.

Traci made a noise. "Woah! When did you get that?"

Grinning, Holly tapped it again. "Last month. It's my favorite new toy."

"Do all the tables do that?"

"Just this one. For now. It's not in the budget to update them all." But everyone liked this one. Holly loved it. Since she'd installed it, she hadn't needed to see her chiropractor or schedule a massage after every autopsy. "There wasn't anything that matched this bruising pattern in the evidence. But I heard there was a homeless man?"

Coming over for a closer look, Traci explained, "There was. But there was no trace evidence ... I hope. You have all his stuff, and young Peck got him a place to sleep. She's convinced he's just a victim of the latest economic downturn. But he's a bit of an asshole. Apparently he was making some homophobic rants, and she just ignored them."

Holly shook her head. "Gail had words about that, I'm sure. I didn't get home until late."

"Yeah, I meant to ask how the archeological find went." The brunette held up the coffee. "Gail implied you'd be home late."

How she loved her Peck. Holly smiled. "An understatement." Pulling off her gloves, she took the coffee and sighed happily. "The night shift didn't find anything that matched ... Did you interrogate your homeless man?"

Reading from her phone, Traci nodded. "We did. Wentworth Grey. Former CEO of an investment firm based out of the city. When the market crashed the last time, he lost everything. Apparently he put his eggs in one basket. He sold what he had left to send his kid to college and then walked off, living homeless and doing odd jobs. Claims he's happier now, except for the random college student who screws with him."

They both looked at the dead body.

"It's possible it's a retaliation killing." Holly frowned. "I don't think so. This looks... Less."

Traci shrugged. "You see more of these. I defer to your judgement. And, since we have no tox report yet, is there any reason for me to be here?"

"Besides the excellent coffee? No. Though thank you."

"Thank your kid. She caught me on my way over. Very un-Pecklike."

Holly smiled. While most people might see that as non-standard Peck behavior, it was how both her peculiar Pecks expressed a range of emotions. After Traci left, Holly texted her daughter a thanks.

The autopsy was inconclusive. No secret hard drives or mini SD cards hidden in the body. There was no special information to be gleaned from his bones or the trace evidence found on him. When the tox report came back, Holly made a face, surprising the computer tech who'd just finished with her computer. Upgrades. Always upgrades.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?"

"No. Nothing like a healthy dose of horse tranquilizers to knock a person out."

The tech looked a little horrified. "Horse tranquilizers?"

"Welcome to my world." Holly sighed. "Thanks. Looks like everything's working. I'll let you know if I have a problem with the monitor."

Taking his cue for what it was, the tech left and closed the door. Holly read through the results carefully and called Traci. "Anything good for me, Doc?"

Holly tapped her keyboard. "I'm sending you the tox results. Horse tranquilizers. The good stuff. Hard to get in large doses, but you don't need much to take out a person."

"Would a vet tech be able to snag it?"

"Probably, but they don't have it at any places in the city."

"I'll run a search," said Traci with a sigh. "Parents will be here this afternoon."

Holly winded. "Let me know when you have a time. I'll clear my schedule."

"Thanks, Holly. You're my favorite."

Laughing, Holly hung up and bent to the part of her job she liked the least. Paperwork was such a bore. But she had reviews and evaluations and budgets and proposals and a million other non-science things to do. It was her curse. She wanted the job, after all. Maybe Gail was the smart one, staying at her spot and refusing the promotions.

It was hours later when a niggling thought wriggled its way to the forefront. She put aside the budget review and pulled up the information on her dead body from the influenza mass grave. They'd classified it as 'modern' but that really was just in comparison. The other bodies were around a hundred and this was maybe thirty at most.

They'd X-rayed the body, looking for breaks, and Holly clicked through the images to find the skull. And she stared. She knew that pattern. She'd seen it before, many times, on an series of unsolved cases. The blow was behind and from the side, crushing the back of the skull in. The weapon was round, but not a bat or a lead pipe. Holly had experimented with the CSIs on a hundred weapons and items, trying to find it.

But ... Where was the car? There was always a car. Or ... She frowned. The current case, the one she had with Traci, had a man tanked on horse tranquilizers. The mass grave was near the stables the police used for training. "No way..." Holly grabbed her phone. "Rodney, did you make any headway on the bones that didn't match?"

That had been a big problem, and something they'd tasked the newbies with. Match the bones to make bodies. It was time consuming and hard and Rodney was in charge of that.

"Hello to you too, boss. Yeah, we have a collection of them. Why?"

"Look for a horse or a bicycle maybe. Probably about as old as the modern body we found."

"Uh... Will a motorized bicycle do?"

Holly almost dropped her phone. "Please don't be kidding me, Rodney."

"Never! Well, not about work. Your wife is fair game."

"Rodney!"

"What? What? One of the interns found a busted ass ancient scooter. Didn't I update... No. Hang on. Lemme update the case files with the map. The CSIs are insanely nit-picky. They mapped out everything."

"Is this your way of telling me the scoot was by the modern guy?"

Rodney hesitated. "I hate when you do that mind reading thing."

Holly fist pumped. "Check out the skull fractures."

The sound of typing prefaced Rodney's curse. "Are you shitting me? This guy!?"

Before Holly could answer, her phone buzzed. "Shit. I have a viewing... Match it up, treat it like one of those and see if you can pinpoint a date. I think we have victim zero."

Vivian was used to Gail getting a little crazy when it came to convoluted cases. Generally Holly was more methodical and quiet. At that moment, there were case notes strewn across the living room floor when Vivian got home. "Do I want to know?"

"Not related to your case," said Holly, sitting on the back of the couch and staring down at her papers.

"Oh. Good. You looked ... Distracted at the ID." Vivian had been grabbed by Traci to come with the family on the identification of the young man she and Jenny had found dead. Dale Taft.

Holly looked up, stricken. "Shit."

"Nah, I don't think anyone but me or Traci noticed, Mom. We know you." She peered down at the papers and caught the name 'Peck, V.' on one. Craning her neck, Vivian read the date. "Your head basher?"

Making a noise of agreement, Holly nodded and pointed at the top left. "1986. Bicycle. Different weapon, but it matches the ones from the rest of the 80s and 90s." Her finger gestured to the row at the top. "Second row, 2000s. We're on to cars now. It's not until row three, 2010, that it looks like what I'm used to. Since then, 2020 and 2030, we get four deaths a year, max, usually only one."

Vivian's mind boggled. "Hold the phone. Mom, you're saying this is ... Jesus this is older than me? There's no way, that guy's be-"

"More than one perp," Holly noted. "The purple tabs indicate a blow delivered by someone between five-ten and six-one, depending on swing. The green are from someone about five-six. Orange ... Orange is for when I can't tell. The victim was in a position that implied they were sitting or lying down." Her mother started to point at each folder, describing the differences between the blows and the strange similarities.

It was interesting to listen to Holly dissect the damage done to the skull. When Gail talked about cases, she talked about motives and behavior. Holly, on the other hand, delved into the minutia of the fractures and the depth of the damage. Her theory, developed over the years of reading and re-reading the notes, was of a group of people who performed similar, if not the same, crimes over the course of forty years.

No, it was fascinating.

Even when she watched her mother at autopsies, or the few times she'd been allowed to hang out in the labs as a teenager, she saw the teacher in Holly. Vivian was used to seeing someone explain things so she might understand the how and why. The alleles meant this. The commonalities meant that. The eye-color meant yes, it was probably that the man Andy McNally called her father was, in fact, not her biological father, but Gail had asked them to shut up about that and spare Andy for a change.

This time, Holly was talking about possibilities and parameters and probabilities. Holly explained how you could see the blow had distinct similarities across the years, at different growth periods, meaning it was the same person. People. You could track each person. And Holly had done just that. She'd labeled each folder with a letter indicating one of five people.

"But," said Holly at length. "My genius fails me. Because I don't have enough trace evidence to connect the people. The items, the blunt objects, I'm making some headway. I have to budget for the fake heads though." Holly sighed. "I wish I lived on TV, where they just always had the budget for things."

"I don't," said Vivian. "TV cops get shot at a lot more."

Pursing her lips, Holly appeared to fight a smile. "You have a point."

"I learned from the best." Vivian grinned. "Chicken and pasta? You can keep nerding out and try to find a weapon signature."

"Thank you." Holly looked sheepish, but was already flipping open a folder to compare photos.

She was still at it when Gail got home. Holly didn't even look up. "Mon singe, what is your mother doing?"

"Solving a forty year mystery. Check my sauce?"

Gail shook her head but tasted the sauce. "Oh this is nice. Which pasta are you using?"

"Rigatoni."

"Penne." Gail swapped the boxes for her. "Gotta be penne with that sauce, kid. How long has the good doctor been like that?"

Vivian grinned. "Since before I got home. She took a break to explain it to me. Did you know how smart Mom is?"

Her blonder mother laughed. "Sweetheart, your mother is the smartest woman I know." Gail poured the pasta into the water. "She's brilliant. You should try reading her articles."

Screwing up her face, Vivian turned the meat in the pan. "Mom, I actually like math and I think her articles are confusing and kinda boring."

"You're a heathen. How did I raise a shy, prudish, heathen?" Hanging her head, the detective stirred the pasta.

"I'm not a heathen. I just ... I'm not interested." She wasn't going be a detective like Gail was. And she wasn't not in love with Holly, not like Gail was, so there was no draw to read and admire Holly's work. Truth told, she had read some of Holly's articles. They had been over her head when she'd been younger, and now that she could understand them, they weren't interesting.

Gail sampled a piece of pasta. "Have you thought about trying any of the rotations? With Traci going up, they should have a spot on the D's soon."

"Lara's applying," said Vivian quietly.

"Two people can apply."

"I don't want it." Vivian glanced over, eyeing her mother for disappointment.

There was none. "Good. Don't be something because you think you have to be." Gail smiled and lifted the pasta colander out of the water. "You could do horses."

Vivian snorted. "I could be a motorcycle cop."

Her mother laughed. "K-9."

"I'd be better at it than Andy."

"Anyone would be better at that than Andy." Gail scoffed and dished out the pasta onto the deep plates. "Hey, Lunchbox, can you come up for air?"

The very distracted reply was mumbled. "Does it come with food and a database of impressions from various blunt objects?"

Gail rolled her eyes as she looked at Vivian, clearly beseeching her daughter with a 'see what I put up with?' expression. "Yes to the first, no to the second. Didn't the LA crime lab come up with that?"

And that got Holly's attention. "They did! Brilliant!" She pulled her phone out and tapped into it. "No I'm not calling them."

"Good, because we have rules about work at the table." Gail winked and poured the sauce on as Vivian handled the chicken. "That's a nice sear, kid."

"I learned from the best, Mom."

While Holly did tidy up her folders and join them for dinner, she was distracted to the point that Gail teasingly had to remind her to eat. Once prodded, Holly ate quickly and then apologetically excused herself and vanished into the office. "Oh my nerd." Gail's soft laughter made it sound like this wasn't abnormal.

Vivian frowned. "How come that's only new to me?"

"Holly ... Holly was of the opinion that delving into her cases in front of you would possibly trigger flashbacks. And since she's more visual than I am, she has to spread all that crap out and that could be more traumatic."

That was true. Most of Gail's obsessive work was done just by staring at the computer and reading. "So all those times she locked herself in your office? She was doing that?"

"Mostly. She concentrates differently and talks to herself a lot." Gail took Holly's plate and dumped the leftovers onto her own, digging in. "She probably still has the door open, though. I mean, you're pretty grown up now."

"Still living at home," noted Vivian, despondently.

Gail was quiet for a moment. "Do you want to move out?" The truth was Vivian wasn't sure. She honestly didn't know if she was embarrassed to still live with her parents, relieved to have their support, or frustrated at how everyone else viewed it. "I didn't move out until I was older than you. Of course, my parents didn't make me lunch."

That made Vivian laugh. "How the hell do you guys make time for all of it?"

"The things you care about, you figure out how to do it. We wanted a bigger family."

Vivian shook her head. "I do not want kids right now."

"I didn't either at your age," Gail noted. "But. Well, if things change, be open to them."

"Are you going to give me some drivel about how kids will enrich my life?"

Gail laughed. "No. But. If you fall for a women and she happens to have kids, or want them, keep an open mind." Gesturing at the stairs with her fork, Gail added, "Holly didn't want kids. And I didn't want to ever get married."

She'd heard some of that before. "How did you talk her into kids?"

"I didn't. I just ... I decided that a life with her was worth a life without kids. The only time back then that I felt alive, or really felt anything at all, was with her." Gail sighed. "I was pretty messed up, kid."

There were a lot of differences in how Gail was screwed up and how Vivian was. They came broken in very different ways. Not broken. Holly would get on their cases if she or Gail said that again. "I'm glad she changed her mind."

Gail leaned over and kicked Vivian under the table. "You are such a little brat. All smug."

"What?! I am glad!" Vivian rubbed her shin. "You're a horrible person, Mom. You know that, right?"

"So I am often told." Gail grinned and got up. "I'm going to read upstairs. Unless you want to play a game."

"I cooked, you do the dishes." Vivian got up. "And I have to be at work early. Traci wants us to knock on doors and try to find people who knew our vic."

Gail grinned. "I don't envy you the grunt work or the polyester."

Stretched out on her bed later, Vivian watched her fan make lazy circles. She liked her room. It looked out on the side yard, the relatively thin strip between houses. There were no windows on that side of the house across the fence, oddly enough. The neighbor's were an older couple with grandchildren closer to Chris and Jerry's age than her own. They were nice, though.

Vivian had rearranged her room a few times. The desk lived by the window, the bed on the side of it, bracketed by two night stands. Gail had never been a fan of kids beds. As a child, Vivian had a full sized bed. In college, she'd gotten a queen sized which just fit in the small room. It was nice to have a roomy bed, even if it was eternally occupied by her alone.

Maybe it would be best to stop dwelling. She'd been dwelling and brooding for most of her life. It hadn't really gotten her very far. What had Gail said? Live a little. Get out. Do things. Enjoy being young and free and embrace what she had in life.

Okay then. She should try that.

The fire was related. Gail frowned at the report. "Look, Shay, I would never tell you how to do your job," she said to her cousin. "But... You guys are sure?"

Across the phone, the fireman snorted. Firewoman. Firefighter. Whatever. "Sure as anything, Gail. And the autopsy backs me. The kid is a homicide, that's all you. But the fire is the same accelerant as the last one."

"Awesome. I needed a fucking firebug." Gail groaned and put her head on her desk. "Not enough data?"

"To ... What? My hose monkeys put fires out more than try and sort out why they happen."

"Which is why, Captain Peck, I'm asking you. Arson specialist."

Her cousin, a natural blonde, snorted again. "Maybe. Three fires seem related. Get your head off your desk and read the second file."

"Why? You're just going to tell me that the pattern is the same, but with three data points, you can't give me a lock down on areas."

"The old tenements."

Gail did pick her head up. "The what now?"

"The ones the city is tearing down. Gail, I made you a damn map."

She tapped her computer and pulled up the second file. "That's sketchy as hell.."

"Yeah, well it's what I got. The brand of accelerant is plain old gas. Low grade as fuck. Which they sell there. Add in the trace your wife's lab found on the hobo's crap, the stuff that didn't match, and it's the top pick."

"He's not a hobo, he's homeless." Gail frowned. "You've got four places listed here, including the bridge where drugs is trying to clean shit up."

"It's low on my list."

"We're sending the rookies undercover there soon."

Shay was silent for a moment. "Awwww is baby Viv gonna be a hooker?"

Gail snickered. "She may." The jury was out, given Vivian's height and general appearance. She'd be a hard sell.

"Here's hoping she's got a little more confidence undercover." For all Vivian was mature and responsible, she lacked personal self-assuredness in herself as more than a cop just then. "You've gotta really sell that."

"I know. But Holly keeps saying I have to let her fail at stuff, too."

"See, this is why I never married and had a kid."

"And here I thought it was because Patty was still married to that asshole when you guys got together."

Shay snorted. "Shut up. Unlike you, when this Peck says she's never getting married, she's sticking by it. Mrs. Twenty Years."

"I said no weddings. Didn't have that, as much as it pisses off Mom."

"Fair enough. We're coming, y'know. Patty will be back in town by your anniversary."

"Oh good. I like her more than you." They both laughed. "You know, Patty Peck would be a shitty name."

"Patterson's her last name, you shit." Sparrow Patterson went by her last name for what everyone agreed were obvious reasons.

"Yeah and your name is Shayne but you go by Shay. Tell me, was your pickup line about how your first names weren't gay enough?"

"I'm hanging up, Detective. Let me know if you need me to pronounce the big words on the report."

"I'll just ask my wife," Gail said blithely. The line clicked off and she laughed. Harassing Shay had become a lot more fun since Gail had sorted out she was into women. Other people might have stopped giving their cousin shit, finding out what they had in common, but Gail cheerfully used it as more ammunition for her amusement.

Playtime being over, Gail read the report in earnest and sent a copy to Traci. After all, this was her murder, and she needed to know the fire was unrelated. The fire would be John's case, though. It seemed to be neither guns nor gangs, and while it was an arson and they had a group just for that, it was serial and that meant it was Major Crimes.

A copy went to John as well. He was good with long, cold, cases. It probably stemmed from his time in Missing Persons. Absently, Gail sent him Holly's work on the head-basher case as well.

That was the downside to her job. She didn't get to solve the cases all the time. She oversaw them and directed them, but Gail had to trust in the general brilliance of her people. They were, all of them, pretty damn smart. That didn't stop Gail from rooting through everyone's files and checking the status on various cases.

Just as she finished checking the last file, her phone rang. "Hello, Mother," sighed Gail as she answered.

"Hello, sweetheart. The Penny is still booked, so I've got four hotels."

Gail winced. "Mom, come on. We could just have it at the house."

"We did your fifteenth at the house. You deserve a little pomp and celebration."

"I hate both of those, Mom. I'm really not into shared experiences."

Elaine ignored her protests. "The Four Seasons, the Ritz, the Archer, the Fairmount York-"

"Not the Archer." Gail snapped and she felt the tense silence on the line. "I don't care. Just pick the hotel we're staying at. Then I can get drunk."

If Elaine noticed or recognized why Gail snapped, she said nothing about it. "Fairmount. They have a lovely tea service, which I will schedule for you, along with a spa treatment."

"I'll try not to miss it."

"Again."

Gail tried to chuckle, but knew it felt flat. "I'm sorry. Hotels just... Something about Holly in hotels really turns me on."

"Oh I know." Elaine laughed tensely too. "I felt the same way with you father back in the day."

Forcing levity, Gail smiled thinly. "Is that why you and dad always spent anniversaries out?"

"Mostly. Your brother is less enlightened."

True. Steve did often complain about their parents and sex. Though Gail suddenly remembered when that stopped and her parents just didn't seem to have sex anymore. Around the time of her failed wedding. When Elaine gave Gail five years to sort her shit out. Was that when they fell out of love? Huh. "Viv's like Steve."

"Your daughter sets up roadblocks for herself that are entirely unnecessary." Elaine sighed. "She's too broody by half, Gail."

"I know, Mom. I'd hoped she'd grow out of it." Vivian had a marked tendency to dwell and brood. She spent too much time in her own heard, worried about her heart's ability to love.

"It's the opposite of you. You ran into things head first, sure your bite would protect you." Elaine made a noise. "Well. That's something I can distract myself with."

Gail snorted. "Please don't make my daughter your project. You have terrible taste in blind dates."

Her mother laughed on the phone. "Oh, sweetheart. You know why I picked those men for you."

Smiling, Gail did. "Yeah, okay, fine."

"Yeah, okay, fine." Elaine mimicked her tone. "You have been married twenty years, Gail. An accomplishment. And I adore your wife and your daughter, so I would like to throw the party you robbed me of by eloping-"

"Oh for god's sake, Mom! We were hardly talking back then!"

"And I'm a mother. I need a happy wedding related party. It's like heroin."

The laugh crept out and Gail grinned. "Okay. I give. Throw me a party. What am I wearing?"

"Slinky dress. Something tight that makes your wife forget to close her mouth."

"You're aware I can do that to her in just a t-shirt, Mom."

"A dress, Gail."

"Holly's going to wear pants."

"Gail!"

"Dress! I know, I know. The black one, off the shoulders, above the knee. Heels. Bright red lipstick, and yes, I'm getting my hair cut and dyed the week before."

Elaine sighed. "Platinum? Must you? You have such lovely hair."

"Holly likes it best. Kinda drives her wild."

Her mother laughed. "Well I won't get in the way of that, sweetheart. I'll call Lily and work out the details."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. Thank you for letting me fuss, dear." When Gail made a general comment of 'any time,' her mother surprised her. "I'm serious, Gail. Thank you... I love you."

This time, the moment of silence was less tense. "I love you too, Mom," Gail replied quietly. They hung up and Gail eyed her phone. She could count the number of times Elaine had said that to her on her fingers and toes.

She was still looking at her phone when John rapped on the door and poked his head in. "Hey, anything I need to know before I go see this awesome explanation the Doc has about the head basher?"

Gail blinked up at John. "Uh. Oh, she spent most of last night coming up with some grand unification theory about it."

"So she's wired on caffeine?"

"No, I actually convinced her to sleep." Gail smiled. "She's just in full on nerd mode. She may babble."

John sighed dramatically. "I'll take my chances." He pulled his head back and then stopped. "You okay?"

"Me? Yeah, just thinking." But her former partner just did that small frown thing. "What?" Gail growled at him.

"You look like it's one of those 'negative memory days' is all."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Get out of here, you asshole!"

Skittering off, and laughing, John closed the door. In many ways, he filled the void created by Oliver's departure. Gail sighed. And now Steve. July. He was going to retire shortly after his birthday. While Gail had joked that it was so he could get one last round of presents from the force, she knew it was for him to fill out that last year to qualify for a slightly better retirement package.

And Gail... Gail was not expected to retire. Everyone said she was never going to leave the force. And really, Gail got that. Besides Holly, it was the only place she felt like she belonged. Both had been a hard road, difficult to come to terms with herself. Difficult to accept she'd never be what she'd been told to be growing up. But she did like who she was now.

Gail rubbed the side of her neck and then her forehead. But her mother had to mention the damned Archer hotel. At least the Fairmount looked nothing like it. Gail had avoided fancy modern hotels like that ever since Perik.

Maybe her new self could chase the old away for a night.

"Hear me out."

John arched his eyebrows. "You sound like my boss."

"Well we've been together over two decades, John," Holly said, a little snidely. "But listen for a second."

Holding his hands up, John smiled. "Please. Science me."

Holly huffed and gestured to her wall. Where Gail had a fancy projection system, Holly's budget went to tools and not toys. Not that Gail's system was a toy. It had helped solve a lot of complex crimes, but it wasn't really something Holly needed. So she had a massive whiteboard.

"I've broken the attacks into four groups, based on injury patterns. Basically it's per weapon. Within each group, we have unique individuals identified as using what I believe is the same weapon. This accounts for the discrepancies in height, depth, and angles." She tapped the boxes within her columns. "And the lines connect individuals across groups."

"Same person, different weapons... I like how you laid this out. So ... Person A used two weapons, B did three, and you're all the way down to G. I'm creeped out, by the way. Seven different people? Jesus."

Holly smiled. "I'm pretty sure A and C are dead or retired. Nothing since the nineties."

"Whoopee, five. This is... How did we not see the pattern before?"

"We were looking too close at cars. Once I opened up to bicycles and Vespas, it gelled." She sighed. "Still don't have a good lock on the weapons. I'm pretty sure the first was an old tire iron, the really old ones. Except it's really short."

John tilted his head. "Car crank maybe?" He mimed turning a crank. "We're talking 1900s and the flu, right?"

Holly was surprised. "That's possible. I've never been a car person."

"When we were checking out the Rose family, I ended up looking at all their collection."

"And the BMW guys liked you better." That had been a sore spot for Gail for years. After all, her car was the one that had been blown up.

John grinned. "Give you a bone to gnaw on, eh?"

Holly blinked. "Bones. Well now that's a possibility. It would have to be a femur, though." She mimed swinging it a couple times. "Could work. And it would explain why we never could find the weapons."

"You're serious?"

"Quite. But... I'm thinking one is a horse femur."

"Okay, you better unpack that one," grumbled the man.

Holly grabbed a marker and drew two bones on the board. "This is a human femur. This is a horse. Obviously the equine is larger, but I'm thinking the top of the bone. See the shape? That would work. It fits the shapes on at least three of the weapons. And the irregularity would account for the inconsistencies."

"You can just ... You can see that in your head, just by thinking about it?" John sounded impressed.

"Generally," admitted Holly. "I see ..." She waved her hand by her head. "Science I can see."

The detective grinned. "Fucking amazing. Okay. So we have a group of crazy, horse leg wielding, head cracking, nutjobs?"

Holly nodded. "It's possible that they sawed the leg in half, making two weapons. Smaller and easier to hide."

"You have four. Maybe expand the search to horses?"

"Or try and use the 3D scanners to make a model. Maybe it's degraded over time. I mean, it's bone." Holly closed her eyes and visualized how the bone might wear down. You could cure it and strengthen it, but it would still become brittle over time. How long could it last? What might you add to bone to make it last with strength? Would that leave trace on the heads and the wounds?

She almost didn't notice John was talking. "Hey, I don't mind the zone out, science lady. But. How about I expand the search and you look for whatever you were spinning up in your head? And... Maybe you have an arson specialist I can pester?"

"Wanda." She almost laughed at John's expression. Everyone except Gail had been hit on by Wanda. Discretion was not the woman's watchword, though she did take no for an answer... And she was justifiably nervous around Gail still. "Come on, she's great at it. And she'll be fresh eyes."

A grumbling John accepted this information and headed out. Holly had already tasked Wanda with the arson, and she had no more open cases on her own docket, which meant she could play with this case. Horse bones. Preserving bones. A long forgotten course in taxidermy came to mind, and Holly pulled up the new texts and read through most of it before lunch.

She was still mired in the technical details, trying to figure out what common trace to look for while still having the computer compare and contrast evidence from dozens of cases, by the time she went home. Two days of being sucked into science had gotten her rather far, but she knew she'd need to unstick herself soon. Maybe Vivian would want to go for a run in the morning, or even when she got home.

But it was Gail's car in the garage, not Vivian's motorcycle, when Holly arrived home that night. And it was Gail who had out the yoga mat in the spacious living room. For a moment, Holly just watched her wife slowly contort herself into just her hands, her legs straightened out to the side. It was impressive, and it made Holly happy that she'd given in to Gail's mid-life-crisis to knock the wall out between the living room and the great room.

Her delight was short lived as she realized the only reason Gail would be doing yoga to the point that she didn't notice Holly was that Gail was having a bad day. Quietly, Holly put her bag on the stairs and went to the kitchen. There was no cooking or baking going on. That was interesting. Holly had gotten pretty good at gauging Gail's moods based on what she cooked. Yoga and no food meant she was trying to quiet thoughts in the back of her head that were beyond unpleasant. It was either fear or anger.

Food needed to be bright and fresh, Holly decided, and she dug out tempeh and vegetables. Before she started the rice, she texted Vivian to let her know that Gail was having a bad day. Her daughter replied quickly, saying she was out with Jenny and Lara, and they're were going to get dinner.

It was nice that Vivian was trying to get out more. The girl spent way too much time inside her head, brooding. But that was not something Holly could fix for her daughter. For her wife, on the other hand, Holly could do something about. Not that Gail's problems were simpler or less complex, but Gail was able to and willing to talk to Holly about them which made them more solvable.

"I'm not a puzzle," said Gail.

Holly turned to look. Gail was in downward facing dog. "You are not," she agreed. "Want to talk about it?"

Grunting, Gail shifted to balancing on one hand and foot. "Party's at the Fairmount. Apparently there were only four hotels suitable to my mother."

Mother. Not mom. "What were the other three?"

"Ritz-Carlton, Four Seasons, Archer."

One of those didn't line up right in her head. "Didn't we stay at the Fairmount before?"

"Yeah, for Vanessa's wedding. Eli's younger daughter."

Holly smiled. "Right! And Elaine put us up at the Ritz for our tenth. And ... You know, I suddenly feel over privileged."

"I knew you married me for my money." But Gail sounded flat as she spoke. She wasn't really into the joking.

Sometimes Holly wished she had Gail's knack for reading people, between the lines. It was a Peck skill she knew Gail hated, to the point that she didn't consciously use it on people outside of interrogation. Still, after fifteen years as a detective, some things were second nature to her. Holly didn't read people well. She never had and never would.

She did read Gail well. After two decades, it was second nature to pick up the cues.

Gail still couldn't ride in taxis. She was prone to stress 'panic' attacks if she threw off her schedule too much. Especially her sleep schedule. Gail needed more sleep than she ever got. The flashes of anger had faded away over time. It had been years since the last one, and that had been after Elaine's heart attack. The Peck matriarch hadn't told anyone about it, so the call from one of Holly's friends had terrified them all.

Pursing her lips, Holly asked, "What happened at the Archer?"

Her wife was quiet for a while. Then she stood up straight, hands high over her head. "That's where I went undercover."

Oh. Oh. "Did Elaine know?"

"Maybe. Probably." With a half sneer, Gail added, "She forgot if she ever knew."

And Elaine Peck knew everything about her children and she never forgot anything. "I see." Holly stirred the vegetables. "Do you want to put rice in bowls?"

"Yeah." Gail did a final Sun Salutation and then resumed her petulant slouch. She wiped off her yoga mat and propped it up to dry. Finally she got out bowls. "Table?"

"If you like." Holly sampled a bit of tempeh and sighed happily. "Damn, I'm good at this dish."

With a soft puff of laughter, Gail put the rice bowls down and went to set the table. "You're insane, Holly. You know that, right?"

Holly smiled. She'd made Gail laugh a little. It wouldn't be too bad.

When a morning started with both of her mothers wanting to go running, Vivian had an indication that it had been a bad night. Holly's text not withstanding, it wasn't very abnormal for Gail to have a bad day at work. Still, neither mother said anything about it, so Vivian changed her run to a shorter route that they'd all enjoy. That also meant breakfast with her moms, which was always good, and then Gail absently asked if Vivian wanted a ride.

She took the hint.

"Is it going to be weird," asked Vivian as she got in the car. "Having Traci work for you?"

"Technically Homicide works for me." Gail smiled a little though. The smile had been rare since the night before. "It'll be interesting."

"Interesting like having me on patrol?"

"Interesting like when I get to work cases with Holly. But she needs to solve that burnt kid first." The blonde gave Vivian a meaningful look.

Ah and that was patrol's job. "I pounded pavement all day yesterday. His roommate thought he'd gone to Prince Edward Island."

Gail made a face. "That is not a hotspot for spring break."

"His girlfriend lives there, or so he said." Vivian grinned.

Her mother frowned. "A Canadian lied about having a girlfriend in Canada?"

Vivian beamed. "Right? So me and Jenny are waiting on the warrant to get his GPS data to track where he went. Traci said she should have it by today." That did not seem to surprise or concern Gail. At first, Vivian had found it strange to not get the warrant for everything (they'd had the phone calls) but apparently a data warrant meant different things, since it could give you email access and that was complicated.

"I don't envy you that. Following some guy's footsteps all day? In cotton poly?"

"You miss the joy of having your clothes picked out for you every day."

Gail flipped her off. "Make detective and I'm gonna make you go shopping with Elaine."

"Empty threat. Elaine's great at clothes shopping. Better than you."

"Hey!" Gail laughed. "I love shopping."

"For you, sure. Ask Mom. Shopping for anyone else with you? Nightmare." Reaching over, Gail slugged her shoulder. They were still laughing when they got to the station. Vivian texted Holly to let her know Gail was in a better mood and changed into her uniform before getting into the drudgery of the day.

Since Traci had the warrant, they had a map, complete with timestamps. She displayed the map up on the wall for everyone at parade. "So our Mr. Dale Taft. Lied to his parents about his plans, said he was going to Cancun. Told his roommate he was going to meet his girl on Prince Edward Island. The name for the girl is fake, but the roommate said Dale was always calling and texting. We got a number from his phone, goes to a burner."

Jenny held up her hand. "Drugs?"

But Christian had another take. "My fake cyber girlfriend."

Vivian decided she liked Christian's idea the best, but it wasn't her call. "Did he leave the city much?"

"Nope. Home and school and home." Traci handed over maps. "Aronson and Peck, you get his morning. Hanford and Fuller, you get his afternoon. Volk, you get to help find his phone based on the information from his evening."

Lara looked worried. "Help?"

"Sgt. McNally has called in some old friends from K-9."

Stifling a laugh, Vivian bent her head down and read the map. As she did, Rich spoke up. "How do we know where he was if we don't have his phone? And how do we not have the phone?"

Traci tutted. "Phone wasn't on him when he was found, and it's turned off. But all his historical data, including the stuff from his watch, told us his day. Wonderful tracking devices, your phones. Unless you put them in secure mode. Which he did as of two months ago."

Vivian glanced up and smiled sheepishly. She'd once accidentally driven Gail sick with worry because messing with privacy settings and a jail broken app not only blocked her phone from being tracked but it had also fried the memory, resulting in a dead phone and no way to answer a call from Holly. "So noted, ma'am," was all Vivian said, however.

The detective smirked. "We have the last location on the phone. We've already searched. Now it's time to sniff it out. You know what to do."

Andy, who had been silent up until now, grinned back. "Serve. Protect. Find some evidence."

And so Vivian and Jenny were walking from Dale's shitty apartment to his coffee shop. "Who the hell doesn't make their own coffee in the morning?" Vivian tugged at her coat. She was too hot in it and too cold out of it. Stupid spring.

"You don't go out to coffee shops?"

"Sure, but not every day."

Jenny eyed her. "You think this is every day?"

Vivian nodded. "Roommate said every day Dale went to get coffee at the same time. Except weekends, when he went earlier."

"Well... Maybe his secret lover is there?" Jenny leered at Vivian, making her laugh. "I wonder if there really is a girl. Or a guy. But why would they use a burner phone?"

That was a good question. "Lots of reasons. Controlling parents or, worse, a spouse." Vivian frowned a little. Her birth mother had never had a cell phone, that she could recall at least. "You can buy them with cash only. I'm sure they already tracked the number to a phone and then to the seller."

Her partner looked surprised. "Do you always think about that stuff?"

"At work, sure. It's a date killer, though."

Jenny laughed. "Really? You do shit like that on dates?"

"I try not to!" Vivian sighed and went into the coffee shop, Jenny laughing behind her.

They showed the photo of Dale to the barista, who didn't know him, and asked about the regulars. Apparently the shop was popular and they had a lot of turnover with clientele. The manager was sure they had regulars, but the small size of the shop did not lean to having people hang out a lot.

The coffee was pretty phenomenal though, Vivian had to agree. They sipped their coffee as they followed Dale's path. He'd gone to his part time job to get his check. They had nothing bad to say about Dale. A good worker, competent and generally nice. He'd shown up hungover once or twice, but he was in college.

After that, he spent an hour outside a business.

"Well this doesn't make sense," muttered Jenny, looking at the real estate firm. They'd checked and double checked the location. The GPS firmly stated he was outside the building.

"It's not a normal place to hang out."

Jenny looked up. "We could ask to see the security tapes?"

"Go for it. I'm going to check around here and see if I can figure out why he'd hang out."

As Jenny went inside, Vivian checked the map. There was room for error with these. Maybe he'd been at one of the other stores. Hopefully Jenny would get some leads on that based on the camera, but in the mean time it was up for Vivian to get the right lay of the land. A donut shop, a magazine stand, a shoe store, and a real estate firm. Across the street was a ubiquitous Starbucks, a tall office building with a wide variety of stores, a book store, and an untenanted storefront.

Vivian pursed her lips and checked the information she had from the phone. "What I wouldn't give to have his ... Oh." Vivian touched her radio. No. Her phone. She dialed the number.

"You better have a good reason," said Traci by way of greeting.

"Detective. Do we know it Taft used any of those social media things like Travlr?"

Traci was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. Questable. You think his check in points would show more information?"

"The geo point isn't really clear, and I know he had no tracking on from Apple but ... Is his profile public?"

"It is. Sending you the details now. You know, kid. For someone who hates social media as much as you and Gail do, you know a lot."

Vivian grinned. "Know thy enemy is a Peck commandment."

Traci laughed. "Fair enough. And good idea, Peck. If you have any more ideas, call me."

"Thank you, ma'am. Will do."

Checking her text messages, Vivian saw the link to Dale's profile. To think people were still wondering why she avoided social media... Pulling up Dale's profile, she saw check-ins at the coffee shop and, surprise, right here. The real estate agency.

"What the actual fuck?" Vivian frowned and tapped on the agency, reading its reviews. There was an incredible amount of check-ins, mostly by teenagers and college students. Why would they be going to a real estate office? Then she read the reviews.

"Free wifi? The kids were all going there for the free wifi?" Gail paused with her coffee halfway to her mouth.

Traci and Vivian were grinning. The detective Peck spoke for them both. "I didn't even need a warrant for the access logs. They were so mad, they just let us check things."

The uniformed Peck carried it on. "Turns out a lot of kids had been siphoning the fast Internet off them for months. They did their business on a VPN, so that was secure, but everything else was open wifi. And Dale and his mystery 'girlfriend' were stealing the kids' identities." Vivian made air quotes around 'girlfriend.'

Gail blinked. "You found the girlfriend!"

"Secretary at the real estate firm." Traci grinned. "Also not a girlfriend."

Vivian cut in. "Well she is a girlfriend. Just not his."

Traci nodded at Vivian. "Her boyfriend thought the same thing the rest of us did. Except with the added benefit of cheating."

"Whoops. Boyfriend did it?"

"Confessed as soon as the rookies opened the door." Traci patted Vivian's shoulder. "Just held his hands out."

Gail snorted. "Criminals are idiots. Was he a vet tech?" As soon as Vivian looked offended, Gail laughed. "She's upset I'm psychic."

Shaking her head, Traci tossed the folder onto Gail's desk. "She's not psychic, little Peck. She's experienced."

"Oh," said Vivian knowingly. "She's old."

"Out!" Gail pointed at her door. "I have a meeting at five. I'll pick you up at the Penny?" Vivian saluted and grinned as she followed Traci out.

Her kid was a hoot. Gail smiled and picked up the folder, skimming the last notes. The horse tranquilizer was from the boyfriend's work. The fire was unrelated. That part bothered her. She walked around her desk to her computer and opened Shay's report. For as much crap as she gave her cousin (three years younger than Gail, making her still the oldest Peck in service to their city as soon as Steve did retire), Gail knew Shay would have made a brilliant detective.

The report brought up a handful of small cases through the city. Only a few major ones, and even then they felt like an accident. But to Gail, who had faced multiple serial killers and gangs and all kinds of losers, it felt like the beginning of escalation. It felt like the start of something.

Since she had Traci's digital report already, Gail gave Shay access to it and sent her the case number. The digitization of cases made communication so much easier. Even working with other countries was so much faster now. Gail had a special ID and a two factor code that she could use to log into the FBI and CIA. Not that she ever wanted to. The CIA gave her the creeps.

Her cousin pinged her back right away, saying just one word 'fuck.' Yeah, Shay had become Gail's favorite Peck cousin in the last decade. They'd have to dig deeper but, for now, it was enough to have the fireman keeping tabs on the case. Since they would see it first, Gail made sure to give Shay as much information as she could without having to justify it to the commish. He was annoying, a real red tape asshole.

Gail threw the map up on her wall and put the fire points as markers for an overlay in red. Then she put, in blue, the locations that Shay suspected would be next. In purple was the dead Dale Taft.

"Mr. Taft. Why were you on fire?"

Actually, why was that location on fire? That made less sense. Assuming that Taft was in the wrong place at the wrong time, which the boyfriend implied, why was the fire there? Gail rubbed her lower lip. They'd found a small incendiary device in the homeless man's belongings. The arson team, which fell under or with ETF (depending on your point of view) was still working on that.

Complex cases with unknown motives were always tiring. She sighed and added Sue to new case notes as well. It wasn't enough data to come to a meaningful conclusion yet. Lacing her hands behind her head, Gail leaned back as far as her chair would go and stared at the data, hoping it would magically come to some beautiful conclusion.

Of course it didn't. By the time she went to her late afternoon meeting with the big wigs about her upcoming reorg, she was no further along than she'd been that afternoon. To her surprise, as she went to her car with the intent of picking up Vivian from the Penny, the patrol officer was sitting on the bumper reading from her iPad.

"Aren't I picking you up?"

"Eh, C was there, picking up chicks. I didn't want to screw his game."

Gail shook her head. "You're nice. You must have gotten that from Holly."

"Sure as hell wasn't you," agreed Vivian, smiling. They piled into the car and Vivian tossed her bag in the back. "How did your muckitymuck meeting go?"

"Eh." Gail paused and grinned, realizing she and Vivian made the same sound of disgruntlement. "The post Peck shuffle is interesting. Bumping Traci makes Frankie the ranking Homicide D for my sectors." Technically Swarek should be top, but he'd been tagged in an SIU case for a violent incident with a perp on his watch, which kicked him down a pay grade. Not to mention he was Swarek and less trusted after his divorce from Andy.

Vivian made a face. "Frankie needs a girlfriend. I can't believe she hit on you and Mom!"

"I hit on your mother."

"You married my mother. Frankie just wants to get laid."

Glancing over, Gail smirked. "Is she threatening to set you up again?" Vivian flipped her off. Everyone was trying to help Vivian with her love life. As one of Vivian's virtual (certainly her least virtuous) aunts, Frankie could be a little more heavy handed than the rest. "You know Lisa and Frankie went out for a while."

Vivian grinned. "Yeah, BT told me. Too much bitch factor, though."

"Truth. So why does Frankie need a girl, Monkey?"

"Because she'll drive all your Ds insane, pick fights with Chloe who I swear she has a crush on, and swagger all over like Jagger unless she gets laid regularly."

Gail made a noise and sighed. The kid was right. "Who would have thought the running of departments would depend on Anderson's sex life?"

Her daughter laughed. "Maybe you should introduce her to Wanda?"

"Ew. And they don't get along. Wanda said Franks was too egotistical."

"She is." Vivian smiled. "Luck?"

"Jen? No way, she's in the same department and division. Breakups like that are messy enough."

Now Vivian made a noise. "Fine. Be smart."

Gail grinned. "Impossible to be any other way, kiddo." She pulled up to the house. "Okay. Get Frankie Anderson a girl before promoting her. That gives me ... Until August."

"Why is Steve waiting?"

"The retirement package is better if he makes it to August is all."

Vivian snorted. "It's not like we're hurting for money, Mom."

"Today, no. But never think that will last forever, Viv."

Her daughter's face was thoughtful as she got out of the car. "Is the future always so uncertain?"

"Pretty much." Gail slung an arm around Vivian's shoulder. "But that's why you keep family around." Vivian sighed and leaned in for a brief moment. "Come on. Let's get Holly to help us find a girl for Frankie."

Chapter Text

Pounding out mile after mile on the road was way more relaxing than yoga. In that way, Vivian knew she was more like Holly, because Gail actually liked yoga. Gail liked hot box yoga, and the sauna one, and she did it almost every week in a class. She did it all the time at home. Many times, Vivian and Holly had returned from a run to find Gail actually freaking meditating as part of it.

But the feeling of the world zipping by really was relaxing. Far far more relaxing. Vivian's mind was always in a whirl, always thinking about something or someone or her past or her future. The only times she'd ever shut up her brain was on a good, long run. Sadly her mothers were no longer up for the kind of run Vivian needed. Luckily her friends were.

Mostly.

Beside her, Lara was panting as they eased up and stopped for water.

"Damn, Viv, you do marathons?"

"I was on track in school."

It was weird to get along with her rookie class now. She'd never been a cool kid, not even in school, and she had worried that her tenuous grasp of popularity with everyone at Fifteen would wash away when Rich told everyone she was someone important's kid.

That had never happened. Instead, they all gave Rich shit for 'outing' Vivian and moved on. Sure, some of the other divisions treated Viv as an entitled legacy who had her career handed to her, but when they did, Fifteen stood up and told them they had no idea what they were talking about.

With the exceptions of the divisions who were used to Pecks (which was to say, Fifteen, TwentySeven, and ThirtyFour, i.e. the ones Gail had purview over), the general perception of Pecks was that they were still going to be the ones granted favors and picked over others. Which was hardly true, but whatever. And while Vivian had neither Christian nor Olivia to talk to about it, Jenny and Lara and, yeah even Rich, were proving to be pretty awesome people. Not Rich though. There were limits, and he was no Christian. And Lara wasn't Olivia.

That stupid boy. She was so pissed at both of them. Liv for deciding she was into boys and C for thinking that kissing her was a good idea. As soon as Christian wasn't talking to her, she'd feared that wouldn't have anyone in her class. The reality was, again, wildly different.

Everyone thought Christian was an idiot. Besides the fact that Vivian was a big ol' lesbian (thanks, Rich, for shouting that out at the Penny), kissing someone like that was a dick move. Everyone, every last stinking officer in three divisions who had happened to be at the Penny that disastrous night all told Christian to shut up, suck it up, and apologize when his nose stopped bleeding.

For the first time, Vivian found herself protected by a cadre of friends her own age. It wasn't just the support of Matty and Olivia (stupid Liv), it was Jenny and Lara and even Rich, but also everyone in their class across the force and most people she'd worked with. They had her back.

Okay, so maybe Rich made a 'Team Peck' joke about things, but he didn't mean it like it had been said in the old days. He meant he was on Team Peck, took Vivian's side, and told Christian he was a moron.

And maybe it was in part because of her sergeant. Andy was more than willing to defend Vivian. Andy knew how little support Viv got from the Pecks, how unlikely it was for Gail to actually use nepotism, and how hard it was to be a Peck. After all, Andy came up the ranks with Gail.

Vivian had friends. Even idiots like Rich. And it was a strange feeling, a strange world, and she liked it.

"I hate you, Peck." Lara's complaint interrupted her thoughts.

"I get that a lot," said Vivian and she smiled. Sipping her water, she watched people running by. There were a lot of firemen running around, including a batch from station 451 with a rather cute woman in the mix. "You wanted to do the Toronto 5k," she pointed out.

Her friend sighed. "I am an idiot." Vivian grinned and watched a group run by. "You are not looking at those yummy boys, are you?"

Rolling her eyes, Vivian slapped Lara's shoulder. "I'm not looking at anyone. I'm going to be celibate."

"Ew, that sounds horrible," laughed Lara. They started jogging again, a slower pace. "Do you think you're gay because your Moms are?"

"Do you think you're straight because your parents are straight?"

Lara blinked and glanced at Vivian, surprised. "Shit. What if I am? How can you tell?"

"Hell if I know," sighed Vivian, letting her eyes follow the really fit woman with the firefighters, quite a bit shorter than she was, run by.

"Good," said Lara, firmly. "You've barely looked at anyone in months."

She startled and stumbled. "What?"

And Lara explained, "Since what's her name dumped you by text. But almost before... When the guy ... Died. In front of you."

Vivian had to think for a moment. "You mean the guy who blew his head off? Yeah. That was a great day," she grumbled. "Beth dumped me by text. And I went out with her after that." And Mel, who barely counted.

"That was when you stopped not trying to fit in."

"Really?" Vivian blinked and couldn't figure out what Lara meant.

"Well. Not like you were doing a hot job of it before. I mean, you're not real normal. You like to pretend you're boring so people don't ask about you."

Vivian eyed her friend. "You're going to be a good detective," she sighed.

Lara smiled. "I know. But right now, I'm the good friend."

Friend. Friends talked to each other. "Hey, I had that date after the zoo."

"Yeah, with that teacher. And ...?"

And it had flopped. "She was nice."

"And she totally didn't call you back."

"She texted," muttered Vivian.

Lara nodded as if that was the answer she expected. "And yes, there was that cute nurse you made out with. I remember that." Vivian smirked. She'd gotten caught kissing her at a coffee shop. "Who also dumped you by text. Have you ever had a serious relationship?"

"A couple. Sort of." Vivian frowned. The last two 'serious' ones were ones she knew wouldn't last. "I had a serious girlfriend for a while. At the end of high school. We broke up when she went to Montréal." Vivian sighed. And Liv also pretty much dumped her by text. They'd talked after, but it really was the same.

"Hold the phone... You mean you and Noelle's kid?"

Vivian nodded. "Yeah, senior year thing. I'd had a crush on her for a while."

"But you're friends now."

Shaking her head, Vivian explained, "Fite Nite. She drove me home, right? And she stopped in to say hi to my Moms, only they were asleep. So we hung out for a while and then she kissed me."

Lara frowned. "Okay, why does that sound like a bad thing?"

"Because she bolted, wouldn't talk to me for almost two months. I couldn't figure it out. Night before the guy shot himself, she called me to tell me she's really sorry, it was a mistake, and she's seeing someone. A guy."

And Lara had the grace to wince. "Oh crap. A guy?"

"Yep," she said, popping the P loudly.

"I'm sorry," muttered Lara. She sounded sincere.

The stupid thing was that she wasn't really pissed at Liv. They'd never successfully navigated the waters as a couple for many reasons, not the least of which was Vivian's inability to sleep well if away from home. It was just... A guy hurt a hell of a lot more than a girl. "Stewart Curse," sighed Vivian. "Nine tenths of Mom's ex-girlfriends are straight now."

Lara snorted. "That has to hurt more."

"I guess." She really didn't know. Part of Vivian had always worried that she'd fallen for Liv because she was there and safe and trustworthy. But then Liv had this big secret she hadn't told Vivian for months until boom, she had a guy she was serious about. And she'd nearly cheated on the guy with Viv. That was the essence of their romance. Always she and Olivia were on different wavelengths. Their timing had only been right for that belief period in their senior year.

"Were you in love?"

Vivian hesitated. "I don't think so." Love. She knew what love was. She saw it every day. It was love, the way Gail smiled at Holly in the morning, the way her eyes lit up with delight. And it was love when Holly teased Gail about sports, the way she sighed on the couch. "God, I need to move out."

Laughing, Lara asked, "Are they sappy at home?"

"Not really. They're just... In love. I've walked in on them making out so many times, it's gross."

They finished their lap and Lara fell on the ground, panting. "I think I'm out of shape."

Vivian smirked and watched the same, fit, girl run by. "You're good enough to pass the fitness test."

"You're a good friend," announced Lara. "Even if you're ogling that girl."

While Lara caught her breath, Vivian stretched. She didn't worry much about not fitting in, not anymore. Viv saw the world in a different way than they did for myriad reasons. She knew death, she knew loss, and she knew pain. It made her more of a private person and that came at the cost of close friendships. Even Liv had complained, multiple times, that she was too self-contained. So had other girls.

Leaning over to touch her toes, she heard a strange voice. "Your friend should stretch."

Vivian looked up. It was the fit girl. Up close, she had a ponytail of dark brown hair that kept her hair off her neck. Her skin was tan and warm. The eyes, though, they caught Vivian's attention. They were brown like Holly's, but warmer and brighter without being softer. Someone would have to work hard to have eyes that were as gentle as Holly's. The runner had eyes that reminded Vivian of rich, tilled earth. It made her remember vacations with Grandma Lily.

Oh.

Awesome. Celibate clearly was not about to happen, as her hormones cheerfully announced their presence, and informed Vivian that the girl was hot.

She felt horribly awkward. The other girl tilted her head, expectantly. Right! Words! "She's lucky she made it four miles," said Vivian, trying to be calm and quite sure it was a fail.

"I ran four miles!? I hate you!"

The runner laughed. "You look like you could go more."

"I could," she smiled back. Was the woman hitting on her? Vivian often misread signals, but she was pretty sure the other girl was flirting. And she was definitely sure she was fumbling the whole 'a cute girl is talking to me' moment. "Do you always offer stretching advice to strangers?"

"Just the cute ones. I haven't seen you here before."

Cute? The girl was hitting on her! Thank god her face was already red from running. "Not my usual route. You?"

She smiled back. "Sometimes. Running with the guys." As she gestured at the guys, one of them shouted for 'McGann' to come on. "Speaking of. Maybe I'll see you around again."

"Sure, maybe, McGann, station 451," smiled Vivian. When the woman startled, Vivian pointed at the guys. "The shirts are a giveaway." McGann laughed as she jogged over to her friends.

"Celibate my ass." Lara smirked.

"Shut up."

"That was the most adorable meet-cute ever."

"Shut up!"

She did think about McGann, the cute firefighter, a few times after that. It was the eyes that got her attention and kept them. Brown. Rich. Vivian found herself wondering if they were contacts, they'd been so alive. And the smile too. The hair needed a trim, because it had been shaggy, but the shoulders and the legs were well fit and tanned and ... Fuck. Crushing on random girls never went well.

Lara teased her as they went to parade, shoving her shoulder and taking the seat between Viv and the others. "You should have gotten her number."

"Yeah, maybe." The problem, the part she couldn't share with Lara, was that this McGann woman, no matter how hot she was, was a firefighter. And that meant her family's prejudice would be in full swing.

"Okay, people," announced Andy as she strolled in. "Good news and bad news. Bad news, we're clearing out the old tenements. Good news, we have you guys. Greenhorns, you're going to be supervising the move out."

Vivian bent her head, taking notes, while Rich spoke up, "By ourselves?"

"You don't think you're ready, Hanford?"

She glanced over just in time to see Rich pale. "No! No ma'am! I mean yes ma'am!"

Andy looked ever so frustrated. "Look, we all know we're short since Noelle retired," she said quietly. "We're going to be for a while. I need you guys to step it up, be the cops I know you are." Andy glanced over at the other uniforms. "Moore. You mind babysitting?"

"No problem, Boss," said Duncan, cheerfully.

And Vivian knew how safe the move was in that moment. Andy would never put Gerald in charge otherwise. Her exhale and relaxing did not go unnoticed by Lara, who poked her. "Later," muttered Viv.

"Okay. Assignments are on the board. Go out there, keep 'em moving, keep yourselves safe." Andy rapped the podium with her knuckles. "Peck, come here for a minute."

That was different. "Yes, ma'am." She glanced at the board and saw she was partnered with Christian for the ride. Awesome. He was probably just going to swap out with someone again. "Something wrong, ma'am?"

Andy glanced at the back of the room. "Your Moms' anniversary is this month."

Oh that! "Don't worry, Elaine and Lily are in charge. Fancy swanky thing, black tie, sexy dresses. Didn't you get the invite?" Vivian had been drafted to help address all the cards, and had cheated by using her computer.

She held up the card. "I don't know what to get them. If it was Gail, that's easy. The new Death Domain is out and I know she doesn't have it. Or tequila."

Vivian smirked. "Donate to charity, ma'am, it can't go wrong. Holly loves animals, Gail likes kids. If you pick something for foster kids, they'll love it."

"What are you getting them?"

She hesitated. "I'm going to move out, I think." Her sergeant blinked, surprised, but let her go.

Lara was waiting. "What was that?"

"Nothing work." Vivian shoved her hands in her pockets. "Who are you riding with?"

"Rich," sighed Lara. "Wanna swap?"

Vivian shook her head. "I'd rather cope with C than Officer Douchebag. Provided he doesn't swap again."

Laughing, Lara nodded. "No kidding. Jenny's an upgrade."

"I thought you liked her."

"She's fun," agreed Lara. "But on the days you feel like talking, you're a hell of a lot more interesting." Down the hall, Rich shouted that he was driving. "I gotta go. Tell me what's up with Moore later?"

Promising to do so, Vivian caught Christian's eye and jerked her chin. Lara thought she was interesting? Was that good? Was it good that Christian wasn't swapping shifts or partners? Christian tossed her the keys as they got to the car and Vivian tilted her head. Sometimes, sometimes C was a good guy, the friend you wanted and needed. Most of the time. He hadn't been lately. Four months he had been avoiding her. Now he wasn't. It was weird.

One of the good things about him was that he was still okay with her being quiet. And in turn, he was quiet. It was like old times. They worked peacefully together through the day, making sure everyone was out of the apartments, giving them rides as needed, and by the middle of the day, they were bushed and hungry.

"Want to grab something on the way back?" She leaned on the roof of the car, door open, looking around. They had to go back at lunch anyway, possibly be redeployed, and then there were more people to move after. A full day of awesome police work.

"I was wrong."

His words came out of nowhere.

"Wrong?"

"I was wrong. I do love you, but like Dov loves Gail, y'know? You're my best friend and I was worried and so relieved you were okay but I was just so, so wrong. I shouldn't have ever tried to kiss you."

Shit. Vivian slapped at her camera and stared at Christian, hissing "Turn it off you idiot!" He hesitated, then his eyes went wide as he fumbled off his camera. "Jesus, you are the thickest person I've ever met!"

"Sorry, sorry," grimaced Christian. "I just... I feel like an ass. And everyone thought you were some evil bitch, turning me down, when I was way out of line and I don't even like you like that!" He groaned. "Viv, you're my friend, I was wrong, I am so, so sorry."

Vivian covered her face with both hands. "Okay. Fine. Buy me lunch."

"What? That's it?"

"No, but that's where we start."

The light from the alarm woke Holly before the sound. It always did. Light was the best way to wake up for her, though there was nothing in the world that could do that for Gail. Just as the alarm sounded, Holly tapped it off and reached over to gently nudge her wife. Who did not move.

Smiling, Holly ran her fingers across the back of Gail's neck and was rewarded with the blonde stirring. Holly never tired of watching Gail slowly come to awareness. Gail was so sweet and young looking in the morning. Innocent. "Honey, wake up," she said softly.

"No." Gail grumbled and hunkered under the sheet.

Holly smiled and kissed the side of Gail's neck. "Yes." She pressed herself closer and felt Gail move. "It's morning. You have to save the world."

"I should've taken a job that got summers off." Gail sighed and shifted around, lying on her back and looking up at Holly sleepily.

"You'd be bored." Holly kissed her cheek and eased out of bed. "Also it's spring. You'd be giving final exam reviews and prepping."

Gail groaned and pulled Holly's pillow over her face. "Can I call in sick?"

There was a knock from outside. "Moms, I'm going for a run. You guys wanna come?"

"I hate you," shouted Gail. But Holly was already pulling on her running tights. "I hate both of you!"

Holly laughed. "Five minutes, Viv."

"Right." The traditional thudding of their daughter's feet on the stairs echoed through the house.

"Why can't we get sweaty in a more fun way?" Gail whinged but let herself be pulled up.

"I think you mean a more naked way."

"Potato. Tomato."

They did all get up and dressed and go for a run, though. Gail grumbled the whole time, informing them they were jocks and idiots.

Unlike Gail, Vivian was in a good mood and told her mothers how Christian apologized and they seemed to be doing better. There was a different lightness to her steps. If Holly didn't know better, she'd think that Vivian had some sort of a girlfriend. Maybe it was just that Christian had apologized. Having a good friend, the only one who shared some of her history, meant a lot more than Vivian liked to let on.

After their mommy/daughter run, Vivian did not go for her normal secondary. Both Holly and Vivian were done with their showers first, which let them decide on a healthier breakfast than Gail was inclined to. And it let Holly play mom.

"So why are you in such a good mood?"

Vivian looked up from her phone. "Why what?"

"You, my mercurial Peck, are smiling and in a good mood. Which is rare and I'd like to see it more."

Her daughter blinked a few times. "I'm just ... I had a couple nice days, that's all, Mom."

Holly tsked softly. "Well. Alright. But if I can help it happen, I want to. That's what moms do, honey."

Smiling, awkwardly, Vivian looked back at her phone. "It's ... Well. I think I have friends, is all. Which I'm really bad at, which is not a secret. But... Y'know, we hang out and do stuff. Like Jenny dragged us dancing, and Lara wants me to help her train for the department 5k." No, she wasn't awkward. She was bashful.

So this was what her daughter was like when she actually tried to connect with people. It had taken her less time than Gail, according to the stories Holly had heard. Unlike Gail, Vivian really wanted friends. The things young Gail had craved were acceptance and love. Vivian wanted the same, but in different ways. Gail needed a home. Vivian had one. They both struggled finding themselves.

That wasn't morning chat, though. That was the sort of thing they all talked about, enjoying a beer or some whiskey, sitting out on the porch. Sometimes, up at the cabin, where it seemed talking about complicated things were easier, they'd watch the stars and voice their fears. Not necessarily as mothers and daughter, but as adults who trusted each other.

No, today, breakfast, was for other conversations.

"Are you going to run in the department 5k?" Holly asked the simple question instead.

"Yeah, that's the plan. I was tossing around the idea of the marathon. You did the city one before, didn't you?"

Gail answered for her. "Five times. Five times she ran it, and she made me do it once."

Smiling, Holly leaned on the kitchen island. "I merely made you an offer you were unwilling to refuse." When Vivian made a face, Holly grinned. "Not that. She turned down that offer when I tried the second time."

"No sex is good enough to make me run a fucking marathon again, Stewart. Bad enough you two assholes make me jog in the morning."

As Gail passed by her to get coffee, Holly remarked, "Your heart and I thank you for coming with."

"Low blow." Gail frowned. Her mother had suffered a heart attack a few years prior, and it set all the Pecks on edge. "Is this half caff?"

"Sorry, Mom. I like having you around too." Vivian shrugged.

Gail scowled. "My blood pressure and cholesterol are just fine, thank you very much. You're taking away my fun."

"You want the donuts, you gotta run," said Holly. She caught Gail's shirt and tugged her closer. "I want a kiss."

"You already denied me my naked exercise." But she leaned in to kiss Holly softly. "I love you, though."

"I know you do." Holly smiled.

"If you two are doing that, I'm outta here." Vivian rinsed her coffee cup out before putting it in the dishwasher. "Love you, Moms."

Holly leaned against Gail as they watched their daughter head out. She spoke softly, "Thank you." Making an inquisitive noise, Gail sipped her coffee. "Saying yes, staying with me, making me grow."

Her wife chuckled. "You know that's not usually something attributed to me."

"Well. The rest of the world is stupid."

"Losers," corrected Gail. "Idiots."

Holly smiled. "That's why I love you, Gail Peck. You see the world uniquely."

"That I've heard before. Come on, how about you drive me to work, and then we can do something tonight?"

"Tomorrow's batting cages. You and the kid should go shooting."

Gail pouted. "You don't want wifey time?"

Holly narrowed her eyes. "Did you solve a case last night?"

"Ugh, please don't remind me. I still have that fucking arson bullshit case. Trace has that gun smuggling case left over from the Hill gang. Chloe's got a pimp problem. Frankie has to get used to running the Ds and she's struggling. I hate people management." Gail put her head down on the counter. "I want to be demoted and just solve crime."

Gently fluffing Gail's hair, Holly smiled. "You're very good at it." Gail groaned. "Anyway, I have some work tonight. I need to finish my paper."

Gail sighed and looked up. "I married a workaholic."

With a smile, Holly kissed her forehead and put their empty cups into the washer. "You love my devotion and dedication to my profession. It's some of my most attractive qualities."

"This is true." Gail smiled softly. "The brains are a turn on."

Still grinning, Holly changed the subject. "Detective Peck, have you noticed that our daughter has been looking at apartments?"

Grunting, Gail straightened up. "I did. I did."

"And?"

"What? I think if she wants to move out, it's okay." Gail sighed and checked her holster. "Leo's moved out."

Holly sighed. "So you want to spoon feed her?"

"I think. I think if she asks, we should offer it. She'll feel safe, it's far enough that we have to call before we go over, and she can grow. Because..." Gail paused and smiled softly at Holly, almost tenderly. "Because you taught me to let go when people need to fly."

Smiling back, Holly walked to the garage door. "I did, huh?"

"You did. See? I told you I always listened to you."

"As long as you're not using your powers for evil," Holly said, teasingly. When Gail pinched her butt, she yelped.

"Nope, just my hands!"

"How many days is this supposed to take?"

"As long as it takes." Vivian hunched in her jacket. The cold snap of the end of April had sent her running for her coat that morning, much to her annoyance. Vivian greatly preferred to wear short sleeves.

Rich sighed. "Helping people move sucks. They throw out memories."

Surprised, Vivian looked at her partner for the day. "You sound like my Mom." Gail hated people moving. She'd barely disturbed herself to move to their house. And now Vivian was thinking, seriously, about leaving it.

"She's right. I mean, look." Rich gestured at the heap of trash piled up. It had everything from kitchen appliances to what appeared to be a cheap prosthetic arm. "This is where we're actually asking people to leave things they can't take with them. And they do! Then, then we're watching them scrabble over each other's remains. Like rats."

Vivian huffed and looked at the pile of discarded objects. "I can't argue that. It's downright depressing."

"Which is why I want to know how many days I'm stuck on this hellish duty."

And that too made sense. "At a guess, till the end of the week."

Rich groaned. "Fuck my life. This is morbid."

"You should try for the detective rotation," suggested Vivian, watching another family carry boxes out.

"No, I don't want to do D work." Rich looked at the family. "Homicide is way too depressing. Maybe ETF."

Vivian snorted. "You better hit the gym, buddy. That's the most physical job out there." She frowned as she glanced up a floor. "Hey, who checked out 214?"

Following her look, Rich studied the second-floor unit. "Aronson and I did yesterday, why?"

"I don't think anything's changed since yesterday. Come on." She headed for the stairs.

Rich trailed behind. "Why is this all open to the elements? Isn't that stupid for Canada?"

"That's why they have to tear it down. The structural integrity was weakened by having so much exposed. Caused the materials to degrade faster which is a safety issue. The early plans to prevent or slow down the collapse mostly worked, but we've had a couple cold winters. Expansion and contraction being what it is ..." She stopped when Rich tapped her arm. "What?"

"I have never heard you say that much at once."

Vivian sighed. "So I hear." She rapped on the door to 214. "Police. Anyone home?" Silence. She knocked louder. "See anything in the window?"

"Nope." Rich rested a hand by his gun casually. "Kick?"

"You're always so noisy." Vivian tried the doorknob. It was open. "See?" She eased it open. "Hello. We're not here to arrest anyone. This is just a welfare check."

The place was filled with crap, but empty of people. "Jesus, people live like this?"

There was a distinct hoarder vibe to the place. Except… "I have a bad feeling," Vivian said in a low voice. She recognized something. It was the smell. Under the fetid, rancid smell of human filth (but not waste thank god) was an acrid tang.

"Clear the scene," Rich said, his voice equally quiet. When Vivian looked back, she saw he had his gun out. Nodding, Vivian drew her gun and let Rich lead. The man stepped into the living room and around the boxes on the floor. "What's on that wall?"

"Kitchen." She eased her steps to the room and looked in. "Empty."

"Bathroom and bedroom here... Bath's open, empty."

The bedroom door was closed. Rich wiped his palm on his pants and reached for the knob. "Is there any resistance?"

He turned the knob slowly. "No." Rich took a breath and pushed the door in. The greatest fear she had was that there would be a click or a thud and a bomb would go off. As a teen, Sue had told Vivian about how she met Dov, after he'd stepped on a pressure trigger. The story had been riveting to her at the time. Now it felt like a cautionary tale.

But there was no click. There was no thud. There was nothing but a rush of stench of unwashed clothes. Sweat. Worse. "Ugh, I hate organics," she muttered. One of the games she'd played with Holly was 'identify the smell.' This was worse.

"Smells like the guy's lockers."

"Seriously? You are gross."

"Whatever. It's empty. You think they just left all their shit?"

Vivian holstered her gun. "Maybe. If this is how it smells, then I would."

Rich smirked. "Hey, my place smells great."

"Still a lesbian, Rich." She looked around. "Okay. Find out who knows them?"

"I'll call it in."

Three hours later, they were no wiser as to who lived in the unit. Even the landlord just said they paid cash. "This is why the economy sucks," muttered Vivian. "And now we have to pull an extra half shift, loading their crap into the van."

Rich shrugged. "Normally I'm the one bitching about this, Peck. You got a hot date?"

She scoffed. "Helping total strangers move is not my idea of fun either."

They weren't actually doing the work. Lab interns were boxing things up, labeling them, and scanning them for drugs or other dangerous material. And the cops were there to make sure no one came back.

"Just be glad there's no backdoor," said Rich, leaning against the wall.

"You'd miss me, huh?" Vivian grinned. "Are you happy to be back?"

"Oh man, you have no idea. The desk duty was so fucking boring." Rich had been back at work five weeks after being shot, but Andy had kept him chained to a desk the whole time until February. It didn't help that he couldn't pass the fitness test easily.

After his second failure, Vivian had taken pity on him and offered to help him with the rehab. Because there were tricks to running the course. And now, weirdly enough, Rich was an okay guy. For someone who had hit on her mother. "Yeah, but now we have to do it too."

Rich laughed and reached over to shove her shoulder. "Bitch."

She shoved him back. "Ass." A kid laughed at them. When they turned, the girl covered her mouth and looked worried. "Hey," said Vivian, as casually as she could. "Don't tell our bosses we said that, okay?"

The girl's eyes lit up. "You're not allowed to swear?"

"Our boss is her aunt," Rich said, conspiratorially.

Vivian snorted. "Like that's done me any good. I still get assigned with you. I don't think my aunt likes me very much."

Their banter made the girl grin. "Is that how come you're watching Gary's place?"

A name. "Gary? No, we're watching because no one was here and they left all their stuff."

Nodding, the girl looked at the forensic team inside. "He ran 'way. How come they're wearing funny clothes?"

The best thing Vivian could say about Rich was he was great with kids. "Did you ever smell that place?" Rich pinched his nose and the girl grinned. Only Vivian knew he was the youngest of three, with two much older sisters. She'd actually met his sisters at the hospital, coming to visit Rich after his surgery. The sisters teased him that Vivian had carried him out until, at Rich's pleading, Vivian picked one of them up into a fireman carry.

"They don't want to get Gary's stuff on their clothes?" The girl was sharp.

"Actually," said Vivian. "They don't want to get their stuff on Gary's. See, we want to get him his stuff back, but no one knows where he is, so we have to use science to find him."

A hit. The girl's eyes widened. "Like trace evidence? That's so cool!"

Vivian smiled. "I know, right? I just wish it was faster."

Catching on, Rich nodded. "Totally. It's not like TV."

The girl sighed. "That sucks."

"Yep," agreed Rich. "So we gotta stand here, all night, until the place is cleared out."

Nodding, the girl turned to walk down the hall. "I should pack too." But she hesitated.

So Vivian asked the obvious question. "Where are you guys moving to?"

"We got a 'partment!" She bounced a little. "I get my own room and everything!" She babbled for a bit, telling them about the new place, which was not in the best part of town, but definitely an upgrade.

As she talked on and on, a door down the hall opened. "Anna! There you are! Mom's getting worried. Come on!" The taller girl wasn't much older than Anna, maybe a couple years. And yet it was enough to have a little cop fear. "Jesus! Stop talkin' to the five-oh!"

Vivian coughed a laugh. "Sorry, I just haven't heard that for a while."

"Better than po-po," Rich noted, keeping the casual vibe they'd been working with Anna.

"They're lookin' after Gary, that's all," said Anna, whinging.

Her sister scowled. "Mom told us not to hang out with Gary!"

"He's nice." But Anna dragged her feet over to her sister. "They're nice too. They're funny."

The sister looked doubtful. "They're cops," she muttered.

"They're people too."

The sisters vanished behind their door though. "Well, that went well," said Rich softly.

"Give it time. Kids like this, they trust differently." Trust when you didn't have a basis for it was hard. Any time Vivian really wanted to understand why she self-destructed in relationships, she could dial back and point to her childhood. There was no trust in the memories of her parents. None in the memory of the system, except for Anne and Gail and Holly...

Rich nodded and leaned against the wall again. An hour passed by and the boxes in the room slowly became fewer and fewer. "So ... I'm not stupid, you know."

"You're not Einstein either."

"I mean." Rich stopped and looked at her. "You're adopted. It's not rocket surgery."

Biting her tongue on the joke about how she'd performed surgery on a rocket once (with Holly), Vivian sighed. "Yes. That's not a secret, Hanford."

He nodded again. "You were... I mean..." He stalled again.

Vivian sighed. "I was not an infant, if that's what you're asking. I was six." She shifted uncomfortably. "I don't like talking about it." Seeming to understand, Rich said nothing. It did make things tense though. She could tell him something like how they were dead, or how it had been messy. Maybe she could tell him that her parents were assholes who broke her ability to really trust in strangers, and that was why she understood the two girls they'd just seen.

As it turned out, she didn't have to.

"I'll follow your lead on them," said Rich quietly. "You get them."

The Gail in her nature made Vivian want to joke that Rich was only saying that because he'd screwed up the warehouse watch a few months ago. The Holly in her nature made her reply more kindly. Or at least not unkindly. "When they take out the trash, we'll see them."

It took another hour, but they did win out. Anna came back out hauling a bag of trash. Vivian flicked her eyes at Rich and he nodded. "Hey, need a hand?"

Anna looked at him, then her door, and then she smiled shyly. "Thanks. It's hard to do both."

Rich grinned and opened the chute for the trash. "You guys mostly packed up?"

Nodding, Anna pushed the trashbag into the chute, which was eye level for her, and stood on her tiptoes to watch it fall down. "On TV, the CSIs solve things faster if they can narrow down the places to search. Is that real, or is that TV?"

"Real," said Rich, seriously. "The parts about how they figure out where someone might have been, based on the trace elements on their things? Totally real. Our head of forensics is awesome, too. She's made the lab the best in the country, and even better than a lot of labs in the US."

Anna stared up at him. "She?"

Awesome. Vivian grinned and let Rich keep talking. "She," he nodded. "She's my partner's mom."

You couldn't miss the hero worship in Anna's eyes. "Your mom's a CSI?"

"My mom's the CSI's boss. It's true." She turned to the intern passing by. "Isn't it?"

The tech intern, thank god, had been following along. "It's true. Dr. Stewart's why most of us work here."

Anna watched the intern walk away. "How come you're a Peck? And a cop? Is your dad a cop?"

This was not the time to get into the semantics of her parents. "Mom kept her name when they got married because she was already pretty famous in her field." Vivian paused, "And all Pecks are cops."

The girl made a soft 'oh' sound. She studied Vivian's face thoughtfully. "Gary used to give me Smarties."

Smarties? What was it Gail had said about the candies? They were good for low blood sugar after a terrible moment, like a post-adrenal rush. That was Holly, not Gail. Well. It was both. Gail knew they worked and Holly told her exactly why. And Gail loved to give them to tweakers. Meth heads. "Did Gary have a cold a lot?"

Anna's eyes widened. "How'd you know?"

Rich eyed her too. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Because my mom's the best damn forensic pathologist on the planet."

It was late in the day when a call from the lab came. Not Holly's lab. That would have been too nice. This was the other lab, the trace lab Holly had once worked in and now ruled over with a gentle hand and a wry smile. They loved her. Everyone loved Holly, and Gail couldn't blame them. The fringe benefit was that because Holly was married to Gail, they would often rush jobs for her. There was only one problem right now.

"Peck," she said into the phone. "I don't have any active cases with you guys."

"I know, Inspector. But you asked to be alerted if anything regarding the Summerland Arsons showed up."

Gail sat up straight. "You have my attention, Wayne."

The head of the trace lab was Wayne Davies. He was positively an infant, barely 30, but he was incredibly good at the work. Holly had bragged about snagging him from the LAPD. Privately, Gail wondered why anyone would give up the weather for Toronto, but to each his own. Wayne was a hockey fan.

"It's weird. You know how the old tenements are being torn down?"

"I do."

"Right. A couple of the units were abandoned which I guess is normal. One of the units had a ton of stuff left in it, and since the cops on the scene- Oh, Peck and Hanford. They couldn't find who the unit belonged to, cash only, that kinda thing."

"I can get the details on the why later, Wayne. Give me the what." She paused. "Please."

He cleared his throat. "Right. So Peck said we should check for meth or heroin in the place, based on neighbor testimony. Which we found. But we also found the same accelerants as we did in the coffee shop fire."

Gail blinked a few times. "Seriously? With meth?" The coffee shop had been the last big fire. A Starbucks that had once been a small coffee house, the place had burnt down the first day of spring break.

"Just traces of it. On the bags that held the meth."

Well now wasn't that interesting. "You think he's a middle man?"

Wayne snorted. "I just find the what, ma'am. You figure out the why."

The tenements had been on Shay's long list for locations. "What about the fire in the shopping cart?"

"Harder to tell. There wasn't enough accelerant trace left, but I'd tentatively say they're related. I'll know more when I finish running everything."

There was something in Wayne's tone that was foreboding. "How many days?"

"Guy was a hoarder."

Gail winced. "Don't work 'round the clock, Wayne. Science runs at its own pace."

The man on the phone exhaled. "Thank you. I'll try to get something for you by week end."

"I'll take preliminary if it's enough to get a warrant to search everyone there." They had enough to run a background check, but anything intrusive would need just cause. Things had gotten a lot stricter in recent years.

"Don't worry, we won't screw that up." Wayne's predecessor had, after all.

Thanking him, Gail hung up and eyed her watch. It was getting late. She tapped her watch to find Holly's location and saw her wife was at home. Crap. It was Wednesday. Gail winced and texted Holly, letting her know she was just finishing up.

There was no reply, not even by the time Gail went downstairs and found her daughter just leaving the locker room. "Hey, you're still here." Vivian looked surprised.

"Yeah, some idiot named Peck found meth."

Her daughter smiled. "Some idiot named Peck told me that Smarties are the favorite treat for meth heads."

Gail grinned. "Good job."

They walked to the parking lot together. "Are we going to the batting cages tonight or is it too late?"

Eying her watch again, Gail frowned. "Your mom's phone says she's home, but she hasn't replied to my text."

"Maybe she's working on that head whacker cases still?"

It had been Holly's quiet obsession for almost a quarter of a century, which was sort of stunning when Gail thought about it. Daunting. "Or she fell asleep."

Vivian chuckled. "She wouldn't forget her phone at home. I'll meet you there? I'm beat after a shift and a half."

"Works for me." Gail lingered, watching her daughter ride off on the motorcycle. Slowly, slowly, Vivian was inching out of her shell and settling into who she was going to be. She hung out with people, did things with others, and made friends. While Vivian was still guarded a lot of the time, she seemed to have figured out how to be friends with people.

At the house, Gail somehow managed to beat Vivian home. Her phone held the answer when Vivian texted with what she was picking up from the vegetarian place. Good kid. If Holly was working or asleep, she'd need wrangling and it was late and everyone was probably tired.

"I am going to miss that girl when she moves out," Gail said to herself.

When she opened the door from the garage, she almost laughed. Holly was curled up on the couch, dressed for the batting cages, sound asleep. Snoring. Gail took a photo and then went to put away her gun and badge before trying to wake her wife.

Sitting on the couch, she gently brushed Holly's hair back. "Hey, sweetheart. Wake up."

"Too tired," mumbled Holly.

"I know. Viv's picking up dinner." Gail rubbed Holly's shoulder. "You need to eat something."

One warm brown eye opened to look up at Gail. Holly's glasses were a little askew. "Time?"

"Almost nine." Leaning in, Gail kissed Holly's forehead. "Come on, we're not going out tonight."

Holly yawned and stretched. "Did you go shooting?"

How well her wife knew her. "At lunch. Juice or tea?" Gail got up and headed to the kitchen.

"Juice please."

They had the table set by the time Vivian got home, and dinner was a quiet affair. Knowing how long Vivian had been on her feet, and having been there herself a few times, Gail understood why her daughter was so wiped out. Holly's exhaustion, on the other hand, was a little odd. Was it just overwork?

When they got in bed, Holly didn't even want to read. She just curled up right away. "Hey, you feeling okay, Holly?"

There was a long, low, sigh, from Holly before her reply. "No."

Gail frowned. When Holly was in a funk, it could be tricky to get her to talk. She flicked her light off and lay on her side, looking at the back of Holly's head. "Stuck on a case?"

"No... I mean I don't feel okay, Gail."

It took a minute to realize what she'd said. Holly felt sick. "Oh. Did you take anything?"

Holly nodded. "I don't have a fever."

"That's good, I guess." Gail reached over and soothingly rubbed between Holly's shoulders. "We should have a quiet weekend. Get some sleep."

"That sounds nice," agreed Holly. "I'm just ... everything's sore and heavy."

Probably not in her head then. Depression was a nut puncher sometimes, making it hard to tell what was in Holly's head and what was real. Thankfully her doctor wife tended to be very properly descriptive and used different words to describe different ailments.

"Sounds like you're coming down with something," agreed Gail.

"Sucks. I have cool cases." Holly whined in a pitch Gail recognized. Her wife was going to be sick the next day.

She was wrong. Shortly before midnight, Gail woke up overheated. At first she thought it was a hot flash, but then she realized she was only hot on one side. "Aw, hell." Holly was sweating and looked miserable. At least she knew where Holly kept the right meds.

Cajoling Holly into taking them was fairly easy, but actual morning proved Gail's fears were close to the mark. A fever, body aches, and Holly was down for the count. At least she just wanted to sleep, so Gail left her home alone to rest, calling Rodney so he could cover for her.

"Man, Mom really gets nailed when she's sick," remarked Vivian as she kitted up to drive to work.

"She doesn't take being sick very well." Gail could muscle through a cold or even a low grade fever. The few times Vivian had been sick, it was either just annoying or down for the count, like that stomach bug. But Holly... Holly's body rebelled and refused to do anything at all.

"Soup tonight?"

"Yeah. You still on the housing cleanout?"

"Probably for the rest of the week," sighed Vivian. "People have been picking fights and stealing."

"Well, you know what I say."

Her daughter smirked. "Yeah. People suck. See you at work, Mom."

Gail smiled and tossed her shoulder bag into the passenger seat. People did suck. But Holly wasn't people, and neither was her daughter.

Swearing, Christian rubbed his shin. "I can't believe that little shit kicked me! Why did you let him go?"

"Because his mom will punish him better than we ever could. And it's Thursday. If nothing else happens, we'll be done today." Vivian pulled her phone out and checked the messages. At lunch, Holly had texted to say she felt better but Vivian still worried a little about her mother.

"You are distracted as fuck today."

Vivian looked up. "Mom has a fever. So." She shrugged.

Christian looked a little concerned. "Holly? That sucks."

"Yeah, Mom said she'd be fine home alone, but y'know." Looking back down, Vivian texted Holly asking how she really was.

Stop asking. Go save the city.

She smiled. Holly was feeling better.

Some kid kicked C in the shin.

The laughing cat emoji reply made her smile more. Thankfully this wasn't going to be one of Holly's more drawn out recoveries. While her doctorate endowed mother was tractable while sick, Gail had a habit of fussing over her to the point of annoyance. The last time she'd seen her mother's fight, Holly had been irate at Gail's hovering and Gail was pissed that Holly hadn't told them she had the flu.

Parents. What could she do?

"Are you happy living at home?" Christian's question seemed to come out of nowhere. "I mean, your moms are cool but it's got to be a cramp in things."

Things? She eyed him. "You mean dating? Eh, it wouldn't be if..." Vivian paused. Well. It was C. She was supposed to be telling more people. That's what her therapist said. Christian was safe, now that he wasn't being stupid. "I can't sleep at someone else's."

Her friend looked confused for a moment. "Sex or sleep?"

"Sleep."

Christian frowned. "So. Every time you go to a girl's ... What? You go home?" When she nodded he winced. "Well shit. No wonder- oh! Oh man is that why Liv dumped you?"

With a sigh she nodded. "Part of it, yeah."

And her friend looked sympathetic. "Shit. You... God, how'd you survive the academy? Or is it like just someone else's house? Wild. That's worse than me being in my twenties and still needing a nightlight."

It was surprising. Christian wasn't going to ask. He wasn't going to try and get into why she was fucked up. She shrugged and looked over the cars being loaded up. "It sucks, but it could be worse."

"Sure, but it still sucks."

Vivian studied Christian's face for a moment. He was sorry, but not in that annoying, overbearing way people got when you tried to talk around things like that. No, Christian, the boy with a kidnapper for a father and a nut job for a mother didn't have to wonder why and look at her like she was broken. He saw her the way he felt. Someone who had made it through.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a screaming family, putting their last things in a battered car. "Think they'll feel like we do in a decade?" She jerked her chin over.

Christian shook his head. "Maybe fifteen. If they make it."

"No guarantee."

"Maybe if a Peck shows up." Christian shifted his weight.

"We can be pretty awesome," agreed Vivian.

Her friend nodded. "Think I shoulda taken Diaz?"

Vivian startled. She'd never thought about that before, to be honest. "Pragmatically no. Your mother would have lost her mind, and you'd get the shit I get."

"Ugh. Good point." They watched more people leave. "This is fucking depressing."

"Makes me think I should move out, though."

After a moment, C asked, "Can you?"

That was a fair question. Vivian nodded. "I think so." She watched another family shove their belongings into a car. A shitty station wagon. And she knew the family. The little girl and her sister both noticed her. Anna smiled, shyly, while her sister scowled. "I'll be right back," she told her partner and walked over.

The parents froze. "Is something wrong, officer?"

"No, not at all." Vivian tried for an easygoing smile. "I wanted to thank your daughter, Anna."

The mother stared at her youngest in confusion. "Thank?"

"I told her 'bout Gary."

Groaning, the mother reprimanded Anna. "I told you to stay away from him. He's a ..." She stopped and eyed Vivian.

"Yes, ma'am, he was. We're still looking for him. If you know anything, we'd appreciate it." Pulling a card from her pocket, she held it out. The mother hesitated but took it. "Do you guys need anything? Any help?"

The mother shook her head. "No. No. Thank you." The parents were cautious as they got into the car.

Vivian waved, getting return waves from the kids in the back, and smiled. "I hate that they don't trust us."

"Can you blame them?" Christian waved as well.

Cops had earned a bad reputation in a lot of places. Flipping desks with students in them. Shooting unarmed citizens. Illegal arrests. Deaths in custody. The list went on and on for crimes her fellow officers committed in the name of justice. Or power.

"Mom... Gail said a lot of cops are on a power trip."

"I can see that." He sighed. "How do you know them?"

"That little kid was our informant yesterday." Vivian looked up at the second floor. "Hey... Your vision is 20-15, right?" When Christian muttered a yes, she pointed up at the railing. "That tape is undone." Vivian wasn't quite sure.

She didn't have eagle eyes, something she'd learned the hard way on the shooting range. After struggling to shoot accurately with both eyes open, Gail and Elaine had taught her how to focus and memorize the target better. Then they taught her how to do it faster. Adrenaline helped her focus, which wasn't true for everyone, but there was no reason for that to kick in just then. Still. She was pretty sure the tape had been loosened.

Christian frowned and squinted. "It wasn't before?"

Crap. "Dispatch, 4727. Going to check out the meth dealer's place. Possible trespassing."

"4727, copy."

The voice was startlingly new. "Man," said Christian. "I really got used to hearing Tassie."

"Pardon me for not missing her. Come on." They jogged up the stairs and Vivian rested her hand by her gun. The tape was dangling. She checked the seal on the door. "Damn it... Dispatch, seal is breached."

"Copy that, 4727."

"Entering premise. 4711 backup."

Vivian eased the door open and regretted it a second later when someone barreled into her, knocking her flat to the ground.

"Freeze," shouted Christian, his voice hitting a weird note. Scared. C was scared.

And Vivian was on her back, trying to inhale, with some jackass jumping over her and running down the hall. "Chase," she wheezed at her partner, rolling onto her front and pushing herself up.

"But-"

"Go!" And C ran after the kid.

It took Vivian a few moments to gather herself. "Dispatch, 4727. 4711 is in pursuit of unsub trespasser."

"Copy," replied Dispatch. "Description?"

She hadn't even seen him! How was she supposed to describe him? How did she know he was a him? Vivian closed her eyes. This was what Gail had been trying to carefully prep her for. "Five ten." He had been shorter than she was. Young. "He was wearing an army type jacket, olive drab. Smells ... something herbal and unwashed teenaged boy."

There was a laugh over the line. "Knocked you down, huh?"

"Charged me right when I opened the damn door," Vivian grumbled. "I'm fine. C took off after him down the hall." She looked down the hall and could neither see nor hear them. Vivian frowned and leaned over the railing. Where were they?

Her radio crackled. "Dispatch, 4711. Got the little asshole."

Vivian smiled. Thank god for C. "4711, Dispatch. Lock him in your car. 4727, stay on location. Detective Peck will call with instructions."

They both confirmed they'd heard the orders. Vivian was not surprised her phone rang right away. "Peck."

A pause. "Okay that is plain weird." Of course it was Traci Peck (née Nash).

And she was right. "Just a little."

Traci huffed and asked, "You searched the apartment yesterday?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Go over it and see if anything's been touched."

"Copy that, ma'am." Vivian rubbed the back of her head. No bruise.

"Good." There was another pause. Then her aunt Traci asked, "You okay? Dispatch said you took a hit."

"Knocked the wind out of me."

"Yeah? You're not being your mom, right?"

Vivian smiled. "No, I'm not. I'm really fine. Please tell me she doesn't know."

"Probably not. She's busy with an arson."

"I'd rather have this." Vivian closed her eyes for a moment. "I remember most of what we had the lab haul out of here. Can you maybe send me the manifest?"

Traci laughed down the line. "Pushy rookie."

"That wasn't a no, ma'am."

Her aunt made a thoughtful sound. "Sent. Don't fuck it up."

Vivian read the manifest as she walked into the mostly empty apartment. The lab guys had taken almost everything. The almost was that any of the large furniture that didn't have any traces of drugs were left in place to be picked up later Whatever that idiot was after, it was either still in here or he was just looking.

Think.

What would someone come looking for after the cops had been there? It couldn't be obvious. Obvious drugs and money would be found, eventually, unless they were hidden well. So remember. What had the room looked like? She stood in the middle and closed her eyes. Smelly couch. Table. Kitchen table. A chair, leather? No fake leather. Not that it mattered. She had the layout.

Eyes open. The table was left alone. The couch and fake-leather chairs had the cushions tossed aside. Nothing was cut open. Something was missing but not intentionally hidden. It was like one of Elaine's demented games. Think like a criminal. But that didn't seem right. Think like a thief? No. Think like... Think like a Peck.

A Peck would break in for information, not items.

"Fuller... Did you get a name on that moron?"

"Copy, says it's Max."

"Ask him if he's Gary's brother."

"Uh. Detective said not to talk to him."

"Fuller."

There was silence on their radio for a moment. "He didn't answer but he looks like I slapped him."

Bingo. Vivian texted Traci, telling her of the familial relationship. A sibling wasn't much, but it was something.

"Drugs and arson supplies." Gail tossed her shoulder bag onto the couch in the office.

Her wife looked up, actually dressed in sweats and a comfy shirt. "A volatile mix," mused Holly. Her hair was tied up in a sloppy bun. "I was reading the report."

"You are feeling magically better."

"I am." Holly closed her laptop. "And you are frustrated."

"I don't like when my cases intersect like this. It usually means someone's going to be very, very stupid." And when people were stupid, people died.

Holly was smiling up at her, though, as Gail started to put away her gun and badge. "Not going to brag about your daughter?"

Gail glanced over her shoulder. "Well the fact that I'm proud of her goes without saying." She huffed. "Yes, I told her." All the things Gail had struggled with, growing up Peck, stemmed from never hearing that her parents gave a shit. Self-esteem, self-worth, Peckspecktations. They all went back to being told, directly or not, that her mind and her skills and her talents were not good enough because they didn't match the Peck Mould.

Joke was on them.

The Peck who achieved the most, the Peck who legitimately earned every single prize and accolade, the last Peck standing, was Gail.

And now her daughter.

So every day, Gail tried to make sure Vivian knew how proud Gail was that she was smart. That Gail noticed her success. And that Gail was there to help her survive her failures.

"Good," said Holly, rather simply, smiling. "You're not going to ask how I know?"

"Either you read it in the case notes or Traci called you. If it's Traci, I don't have to tell you how she got creamed by the perp." When Holly rolled her eyes, Gail smirked. "Traci. Right. She's fine."

Holly stood up and held her hands out towards Gail. She didn't need to ask; Gail just knew Holly wanted a hug. Of course Gail stepped in and pulled her close. Her wife made a deep, happy, noise and leaned into Gail's chest. "I know she's fine. She's tough. Took out that girl in hockey."

Tiny Vivian, undersized at twelve, had slammed a fourteen year old into the wall at one of her first hockey games. Gail had panicked when she saw the hit, and again in the next inning- no, period. They called it a period in hockey. Anyway, the next period the older girl came for retaliation. And Vivian, calm as anything, ducked and flipped the girl over her back. Holly and Lisa cheered so loudly, they both were hoarse the next day. After that, Gail had to ask Oliver and her therapist for advice on not freaking out at sports games.

"I think he surprised her with a bum rush." Gail gently rubbed the small of Holly's back. "Going back to work tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I was catching up on my email." Holly was quiet, though.

"How about I make dinner now? You can eat and get some more sleep?"

"Will you read upstairs?"

Generally, neither of them were 'needy' in the way Gail had hated with boys (and apparently a lot of girls were like that too). The first time Holly had been sick around her, she'd just really wanted Gail there. Not to talk to, but to be present. Likely she wanted that now. Gail thought over her work. Everything could wait and she could just think about her cases without needing to use her laptop. "You bet," she said to Holly, kissing her forehead.

They ended up finishing dinner just as Vivian came home, looking grumpy and tired. The rookie cop had apparently spent her afternoon with the arson squad, and had nothing nice to say about the case. It was as long winded as Vivian ever got.

"It's not that I mind," she told them as she heaped a plate full of leftovers. "It was cool to find a hidden stash of arson crap. But who the hell sells arson supplies for drug money and keeps a supply of both in his own damn house?"

"I told you," Gail laughed. "Criminals are morons."

Vivian looked a little disenchanted. "I didn't think they were that stupid."

Holly, who had been quiet through Vivian's rant, smiled. "They always are."

"Truth." Looking at her wife, Gail asked, "Want to hit the sack?"

"Moms, it's eight." But then Vivian looked at Holly. "Oh."

The dark haired doctor smiled. "I'm feeling better, but I have no energy."

"You don't have to listen to me rant, Mom. Now I feel guilty."

"I like hearing you talk about things that excite you."

Surprised, their daughter looked at both of them. "Excited?"

"Yeah," nodded Holly. "You're excited about the arson."

While Vivian looked confused, Gail grinned. "She kind of is. What do you think about arson investigation? We should have some spots opening soon."

Making a face, Vivian took a bite of her food. "Stop being Elaine. I can be just a beat cop forever, if I want to."

"You won't be 'just' anything," said Gail, chastising. But it was an old banter now. Gail didn't really care what Vivian was, as long as she was happy. "So long as you're not a serial killer or a fireman."

"I'll work on that." Vivian grinned.

Holly sounded wistful as she spoke. "I wish you'd stayed in science more. You were very good at it. I know you're a Peck, but I like seeing me in there."

Quickly, Gail caught Vivian's eye and shook her head. The younger Peck nodded and sighed. "Mom, go to bed. I'll clean up."

Without much cajoling, Gail wrangled Holly upstairs and into bed. When sick, or overly worn out, Holly's filter to not speak her mind tended to fade. And Holly still felt that Vivian was, in many ways, Gail's daughter first and hers second. So the next things for Holly to voice out-loud would be that she was sad about Vivian taking so much after Gail. And that might sound like Holly was disappointed in her daughter.

They all knew that wasn't the case, but Gail felt it was better to cut that off at the pass.

As a sleepy Holly watched Gail change for bed, she spoke thoughtfully. "You know. She can do ETF."

"Oh?" Gail frowned and sat on the bed.

"Yeah. The EDU stuff. Cop plus science."

Gail blinked. Explosive Dispersal Unit. Well. If you put it that way. Gail sighed and shook her head. "She will be what she will be, Holly."

"You think she likes it."

"ETF? Yeah, I do. I think she likes the physical stuff, and she was really good with bombs." Freaky good. And the Internet thing. She liked applied technology. Gail leaned over to kiss Holly's forehead. "No rush."

Holly mumbled something and closed her eyes. Gail settled in to read, and was not quite surprised when Holly spoke again. "You were never just a beat cop. You were a thief."

"Thief?" Gail smirked down at the sleepy pathologist. "How's that?"

"Stole my breath. Heart. Muffins." Holly yawned. "Stars."

The last one confused her. "Stars?"

"Yeah." But Holly didn't explain it, slipping into sleep at last.

Gail watched her wife's face relax, loosing the tension of awake, settling into the softness and innocence of sleep. Reaching over, Gail brushed a lock of greying hair away from Holly's face. She still looked like the Holly that had upturned Gail's life twenty some years before. The smile that had changed everything.

"Sleep," she said softly. "I love you."

She knew Holly wouldn't reply, but it didn't matter. They knew.

"How does everything happen in the middle of the week and Friday is quiet?" Lara stretched her arms up over her head and yawned.

Vivian smiled as she toweled her hair dry. "Just lucky, I guess."

"Luck. Hah. You had the luck. Drugs and arson!"

"And knocked over by a petty thief looking for the list of his brother's deals." Their idiot, Max, hadn't had any useful information, other than his brother was buying drugs with high end arson supplies, and he wanted in on the business since Gary was in the wind. Vivian hadn't known much of anything about arson, save the basics they thought in the academy, so it had been interesting.

Strangely, the lab had gone all over the trace. As far as Vivian could figure, spying on her mothers and Aunt Traci, the accelerant used in a few fires recently matched the fuel sold by a nearby gas station. That implied that Gary was sourcing a firebrand. And Gary and his list were in the wind.

Of course it also ended with Vivian working a desk Friday. Boring. Paperwork was a bore. Still, you had to do it, so she remembered the stories of Uncle Ollie nagging Gail to do hers and knuckled down.

"Earth to Peck. Come in, Peck."

Vivian startled and looked up at Lara. "Sorry. What?"

"Dancing. We need a change from the Penny. Come with us."

Jenny added, helpfully, "No smelly boys."

Smiling, Vivian pulled on her jeans. "You know what... Yeah." When both Lara and Jenny startled, she snarled. "What?"

Lara turned and held a hand out. "Pay up. Fifty bucks. I told you she'd come."

"How the hell... Did you set me up?" But Jenny handed over two twenties and then started rooting for the last ten.

Scowling, Vivian tugged her shirt on. "I don't know if I want to go, now that you bitches are betting on me."

Throwing her arms around Vivian, Lara squeezed. "No! You have to go!" Vivian groaned and leaned into her locker, but Lara didn't let go. "Please come with us!"

The sound of a camera clicked and a familiar voice laughed. "That is history," said McNally. "Peck, go with them before I make it an order."

From the depths of her locker, Vivian growled. "You can't order me on my days off, ma'am."

"Fine, don't make me tell your mother."

Vivian groaned. "I hate you." But she gave up. "Lara, let go, I'm coming."

"Can I ride your motorcycle?"

"If I say yes, will you let go of me?"

Jenny laughed. "What if she gets a girl tonight?"

Vivian snorted. "With my luck? I'll run into an ex who hates me. Of all the shit luck I could inherit from my moms, I really wanted the one where I just sleep with coworkers."

"Be careful what you wish for," warned Andy, leaving them be. "Go have fun, children."

After Andy left, Lara let go asked, "How long have you known the sergeant?"

"Since I was six. She used to give Gail grief for swearing in front of me." Vivian sighed and looked at the mirror hanging in her locker. "I don't know why I care about my hair. The helmet fucks it up."

"I thought you used the helmet as an excuse not to give a shit about your hair." Jenny teased and kicked her locker closed. "Come on. Dance. Have a drink. Hit on a cute girl."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Fine. Fine. Whatever."

She didn't expect to have fun at the club. She'd never been a fun kind of party girl. That was more Gail's thing. Like Holly, Vivian preferred quieter dates and nights in, while the daytime was for adventure and fun. Vivian couldn't remember the last time a day hike with a date had gone well. Still. She had agreed to go and it was fun to dance a little.

Both her friends started to try and point out girls for her, though, which was weird. And she did dance with a couple somewhat cute girls, but they were all a little vapid. Nothing was worse than dull.

"Okay, Viv, so what kind of girl?" Jenny plopped herself at the bar beside Vivian as they got drinks.

"I don't know. I don't have a type, really..."

"Well you like smart girls."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "I like girls who can hold a fucking conversation."

"You mean girls who don't think Mussolini is a vegetable," corrected Jenny. The bartender came up and asked for their order. "Vodka sour, two tequilas."

"This is my last shot. I gotta drive home."

"Your moms give you hell for driving drunk?"

"Doesn't everyone's?"

"Okay, fair point." Jenny took the vodka and one tequila, leaving the other for Vivian. "Come on, one more drink." They knocked back the tequila shots, leaving them on the counter, and brought the vodka over to Lara. She was practically on a boy's lap, and shooed them away quickly, after telling them that his friend was single.

His quite predictably male friend. His friend who, of course, was into a hot cop like Jenny, and leered at her.

Jenny at least looked apologetic. "Vivian, do you mind if..."

"No, no, have fun with Thad."

"Chad," said the man.

"Whatever." Vivian shrugged and moved a bit away, only to be startled by hearing her own name.

"So, Vivian, huh?"

Vivian jumped and looked down a little at a face she knew. It was the brown-eyed firefighter. What the actual fuck? McGann, station 451. "McGann. Uh, okay this actually is a surprise."

The woman smiled. "Jamie." She held a hand out and Vivian shook it by reflex. "So you and your friends aren't here stalking me?"

Friends. Vivian glanced over to the table and spotted Lara, watching. Where had her boy gone? Not that it mattered. "Well, my friend might be trying to set me up."

Jamie followed the look. "Oh the jogging partner."

"We're coworkers." Pausing, Vivian figured she ought to say it. After all, cops and firefighters weren't notably friendly. She took a breath to explain they were cops, when someone shouted.

"Hey! McGann, gotta roll!" A tall man with tattoos was shouting from the door.

"Kinda busy, Jesuś."

"No, we gotta go!"

Jamie sighed. "Shitty timing. I'm on shift tomorrow."

"Oh. That, uh, yeah, I'm not sure what that means for a firefighter."

"Means five days at the station. But-" Jamie was cut off by the tall man shouting her name again. "I'm going to kill him," she growled.

"Come on! Cappy called!"

Jamie yanked her phone out of her pocket and swore. "I'm sorry. It's my captain... I've got to run."

Before Vivian could formulate a sentence, Jamie was running out the door. "Well. That went great," she said to herself.

"I've seen worse," Lara said. "But never in person. You're bad at that."

"Screw you. Where's that dude?"

"Oh, he was boring. Hot, but boring." Lara held out a bottle of water. "Wait! That was totally the girl from running!"

"Yes." Vivian sighed. "And I did not get her number."

Lara shook her head. "Maybe you should talk to Rich about how to pick up chicks."

"I would sooner eat my own vomit." But Vivian let Lara drag her to the dance floor again.

At home, a few hours later, her mothers were up. The light in their bedroom was on and their door open. "Hey, I'm not on till the afternoon," announced Vivian, poking her head in. "You weren't waiting up for me, were you?"

Holly looked up from her huge novel. The latest George R.R. Martin one. "You're a grownup, honey," she pointed out, smiling.

"That wasn't a no," smirked Vivian.

Gail had on her reading glasses and studiously kept her eyes down. "She's not a grownup. She's a seven year old who hates showers," she muttered, not looking up from her iPad. "Where were you?"

"Dancing. Met up with some firefighters," Vivian said absently, leaning in the doorway. So they were waiting up a little for her. The word 'firefighters' made Gail look up.

When Gail started to say something, Holly slapped her arm. "Stop it, Peck," she laughed. "Good for you, making new friends outside of work."

"I bet there was a cute girl involved." That time, Holly hit her with the pillow. Laughing, Gail dropped her iPad, pulled Holly's arm and kissed her. "Good night, Monkey. Close the door."

Vivian rolled her eyes and closed the door, retreating to her room.

Her bedroom hadn't changed much in 17 years. She still had the dinosaur border and the same bed and desk in the same places since she'd gotten them. Gail had thought that a kids bed was silly, getting her a full sized one right away. She'd only gotten the queen sized bed when she, Matty, and Olivia had broken the frame of the old one, playing some stupid game in the house. In fact, almost all the furniture was the original, though the mattress was new. The bookcase still had the stickers from when she and Liv were twelve and thought that was cool.

She didn't want them anymore.

Not because she was mad at Liv still (which she was, for many reasons, but mostly for cheating on her own boyfriend). It just felt like an old life she didn't want any more. She wanted something a little new that wasn't too new. Something different. Maybe a move would be it. Maybe a change would push her forward. It was time to move out.

Vivian picked up the photos still on her desk, taken from their various albums to soon find new homes in the multi-photo frames Gail bought for her. Her graduation from the police academy, a photo of her sister, a photo of meeting the King of England, a photo of her mothers. There was a photo of her friends, Liv and Matty, at their high school graduation. Tall (finally) Vivian with her arms around their shoulders. There was the photo of Gail and Holly at the cottage, snuggled on the couch, looking peaceful. There was her first winter at this house.

There were her memories.

And in between all of that, she kept thinking about the firefighter, McGann and her smile. Oh yeah, she was crushing hard on the woman. Vivian closed her eyes and smiled, thinking about the implications of last night, wondering if Jamie would have asked her out or accepted if she'd asked. Wondering what the future was going to be.

Holly spotted it at breakfast on Monday.

Vivian was lingering over her coffee, zoning out about something."You have a crush on someone," she informed Vivian, amused. The girl had avoided her parents all weekend, going out to play ninja warrior with her friends, and something else she wasn't talking about.

"Oh my god, I need to move out, Mom," groaned Viv, covering her face.

"You can if you want to," said Holly carefully. She wanted to encourage her daughter to grow. She just wasn't always sure how to do it.