How The Light Gets In: Chapter Twenty-Six

I don't own Rookie Blue

Please enjoy.

we are for each other;then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis—e.

There was a body in the creek when Gail arrived, donut in one hand and coffee in the other. Not so much a body anymore. A skeleton really, but completely with everything a body needed – minus flesh, of course – and more. Clothes. Watch. Wallet. Pill bottle.

"Alright, hit me," Gail said. "What's the deal – hey, watch it, Nash!"

"You told me to hit you."

"Yeah, metaphorically. With knowledge. What's wrong with you? I am holding a donut."

Traci laughed, shook her head. "Sorry to threaten the donut. But you should finish that. It smells pretty bad down there."

"Well I'm not waiting up here. It's my first homicide."

"Not a homicide. Yet. It's just a body in a ravine. And I'm not telling you to stay up here forever. Just until you finish you…donut." She trailed off as Gail shoved the last of the treat into her mouth. She grimaced. "That's disgusting."

"You're disgusting." Except the words, of course, came out more as muffled hmmph and mmphs and a small spray of crumbs. Gail caught a crumb on her hand, wiped her face sheepishly. "No, sorry, you're right. I'm disgusting." She sipped her coffee. Took a moment to breathe and look down into the ravine, crawling already as it was with two beat cops – ugh, rookies – and forensics. "I didn't really sleep last night."

"Oh?"

"Mm." Gail downed the last of her coffee and grimaced at the taste. "Nash," she said. "Don't buy coffee that's advertised on the same poster as a pair of shoes, okay?"

Traci just laughed, knowing that they had moved on and past Gail explaining why she hadn't slept. She nodded. "Okay, Gail. You ready?"

"Absolutely. Let's do this."

They slip and slide their way down into the ravine and Gail only has a few minutes to look around before she notices a woman slipping past one of the rookies. She made a note of the rookie's face – they were officially in the running for a world record reprimand – before marching over to the woman.

"Hey. Hey, you're not allowed down there."

"Thanks," she called over her shoulder at Gail. "Appreciate it."

Gail frowned. "No. I said you're not allowed down there."

There was something oddly familiar about the woman, the set of her shoulders, her hair, her voice like something Gail remembers and feels right in the heart of her. And then she turns and its, god, it's Holly.

"Me?"

You.

She doesn't react, she couldn't. Not yet.

So she made a small gesture, a nod, a shrug, an of course lift of her eyebrows and Holly – Dr Stewart now, Gail presumed – laugh smiled.

"Oh, no. I am. I need to get some samples."

Does she recognise Gail?

"Who are you?" Gail asked. She would have taken it back immediately, it felt like such a betrayal because of course she knew who she was. But Holly, she didn't bat an eyelash. Just smiled.

"The forensic pathologist."

"Oh. Well you should've told me that."

"Sorry. I thought it was obvious."

"Only to nerds," Gail said and she clamped her mouth shut. That sounded oddly familiar. Oddly familiar as in incredibly familiar. Holly gave no sign that she recognised them. Gail looked over Holly's shoulder to where Traci was standing because that felt, and sounded, an awful lot like teasing and an awful lot like exactly what she had said to Holly that first time. It was too much. She licked her lips and frowned thoughtfully. "Can you come back later?"

"You're not up on your medical jurisprudence."

Holly stepped forward, a little. If only Gail could read her mind – racing as it was, trying to settle itself in what was happening. Because Gail was in front of her and she didn't recognise Holly. Or was pretending not to recognise her. And that was fine, but Holly wasn't going to be shouldered out of doing her job – though, if anyone were capable of doing that, it would be Gail.

She was getting in her head.

She was thinking and wondering and trying in vain to figure out if Gail recognised her and the medical babble, that came out without her giving it much thought at all. She had memorised every detail years ago, performed it over and over, so it was muscle memory that kept her words tumbling from her lips as she looked at Gail. Really looked at her.

It felt so much like she was treating herself.

How long had it been? Eight years? Ten?

A long time, at any rate, and Gail was suddenly right in front of her and she was looking at Holly's lips and frowning.

She had changed, Holly realised. Changed enough that Holly couldn't tell what was going on in that head of hers and she felt a pang when she recalled how they had been and what they had been to each other and how utterly comfortable it had been to sit with Gail and know her like she had, and be known in return.

"Why are you saying all these words?" Gail asked her and Holly recognised them. But whether they meant that Gail knew who she was or just that Gail said the same thing to everyone who babbled to the degree Holly did, she wasn't sure.

Maybe she had been the one to change.

"Detective Peck," Traci interjected when she saw that the two of them had been standing in silence for a moment. "The kids have stopped hyperventilating long enough for us to ask some questions. Do you want to?" she gestured to where they were standing.

Gail hesitated for a moment. "Yes. Of course. After that, I think I'm going to go to the morgue with the body. See what the cause of death is. We don't really have any leads yet and I want to be right on top of that when we do."

"Right." She swallowed a smile – Gail saw it anyway, they had known each other for far too long for Gail not to notice – and nodded to Holly. "Hi."

"Hello."

"So – morgue then?"

"Yep."

"Alright then, Detective Peck. I'll stay here. Make sure the scene is worked through properly."

"Sounds good."

Traci gave Gail one last grin – superior, Gail thought with narrowed eyes, sneaky, bothersome – when Holly slipped out to take over the work on the body.

"What are you doing over there?"

They had been quiet – silent – for almost an hour and Gail was getting uncomfortable. She had flicked through a number of Holly's scientific magazines but eventually she couldn't stand it.

Holly just smiled.

She had missed Gail. It was only occurring to her exactly how much now that she was sitting with her and Gail's quiet voice crept out and stole her attention. There had been those first few months of missing Gail – Holly had thrown herself into anything and everything in an effort to get past that, past Gail, because that had been the best option – but she had forgotten or those months had dulled in her memory over time. It didn't seem so bad, the knowledge that she had cried herself to sleep for so long just felt like typical teenage heightened emotions. But it hadn't been. It was easier to think that way, it was. Because thinking that she had left behind something more important wasn't something that she was willing to do.

Not yet.

So when Gail spoke, she smiled and let herself feel just how much she had missed her.

"Putting together a puzzle."

She wondered if vague answers still infuriated Gail. Probably. She was a cop now. No. Holly smiled again. Detective.

"How very vague of you."

She could put a tick in the yes column for that then.

"What can you tell about the person?"

"Ah." Holly put back a bone with a faint click. "He's a teenager, probably late teens early twenties at the oldest. Not archaeological. Bones are still greasy. And a bit smelly, you find?"

"Oh I thought that was just you," Gail shot back. "Do we have a name?"

"Let me check." Holly stopped, stripped off her gloves, and moved to her computer. She had sent off for records – the metal bone in his arm would give her one, serial numbers were very useful on occasion – and she brushed past Gail with a soft "excuse me". Clicked through her emails before nodding. "Yes, here we go." She ignored the way she could just barely feel Gail behind her, reading over her shoulder. "Devon Thomas."

"Devon." Gail leaned in a little closer, eyes intent on the screen. "Are you sure?"

Holly pointed to the screen and let Gail figure it out for herself, only adding a "yes, I'm sure".

"Shit okay." She fumbled with her phone and stalked out of the morgue, talking quickly into the phone. Gail returned for a moment to mouth a 'thank you' before she was gone.

She was back later that evening, before Holly left. Once she knew it was Devon – Devon, who she had hoped had escaped the life he had when she never heard of him again – it was easy enough to track down his gang and his parents and she was heavy-hearted but grimly pleased when she was able to snip the cuffs harshly onto Devon's fathers wrists, tightening them when he complained.

Traci just nodded when Gail said she had to check up on some of the paperwork with the forensic department.

"I've got this," she said. "Don't worry."

"I'll come back," Gail promised.

"No, no, Leo's dad has him tonight so I'm staying back. Steve is picking me up in an hour which leaves," she tapped the pile of papers, "plenty of time for me to do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Traci laughed. "Go. You can get it next time if it's such a big deal."

"Let's not be hasty," Gail skirted around that promise. "Call me if you need me."

"Will do. Now go on – talk to her already!"

"I don't know what you mean." But Gail was out the door a moment later and in her car. It was strange. She drove with purpose and excitement the entire way to the morgue. And then. It was like she stopped. Parked in the almost empty lot, she let out a harsh breath and clutched tightly to the steering wheel.

She could leave.

It would be so easy.

Instead, she made her way down to the morgue and, when that was empty, to Dr Holly Stewart's office. Gail waited in the doorway for Holly to see her, taking her time to look at the bookshelves, mostly empty, the boxes spilled books out onto the floor in neat piles, the desk a contrary disaster of paperwork. She smiled. Holly's bedroom had been much the same – the bookshelves had been full then, though, to the bursting. But sometimes she would take it upon herself to clean the shelves and rearrange the books and there they would be – twelve books high, less if some of the volumes were thick, and spines all aligned – waiting to return to their place in the shelves. She lost track of how many times she had seen Holly handling a book. They all blurred together now, but she could still remember the way her hand would smooth over the front as she turned it to check the spine – at Duke's, at her home, whenever. Her thumb skimming over the top corner of the pages as she flicked through them. She'd made an exact science of it.

Never lost its thrill, though.

"Oh hello," a teasing voice broke into her reminiscence. "Back again."

"Back again," Gail confirmed.

Holly made a little sound. Pleased, knowing perhaps. Her eyes were light and bright when Gail chanced a look. "Something tells me you like it here."

Gail blinked. It was a short while, filled with a little careful smile neither an agreement nor disagreement of that, before she replied to that. "I do," she said, closely followed by, "I thought it was Dukes."

Holly closed the folder she held. She lowered it to her desk and stepped around, but when Gail looked away, she stopped and sat on the edge of her desk instead of approaching her like she had hoped to.

"What do you mean?"

"The feeling. That feeling." Gail's brows pulled together in a frown. She looked a little uncomfortable. A little lost, a little unsure. "You know the one I mean? You feel…calm. And happy. And peaceful and like you can stay there forever." She shrugged. "I thought it was Dukes. I went there a lot after-" she stopped. Lips pulled tight like she wasn't sure if it was time, yet, if she should say it.

"After I left," Holly supplied.

It was an admission. That they knew the other, that they remembered the other. Gail nodded.

"I still worked there. But on my days off too, I would go to the kids section and just sit there."

"Gail,"

"Let me finish?" Gail requested. Holly nodded. She looked cautious, a little shy, and like her guard could come up at any moment. That simple fact meant that it took a little extra, a little special effort for Holly to suck in a breath and her words. Holly had expected a guard. She knew things had changed between them, but the way that Gail could raise and lower that guard when before it had been…it had been a part of her, home grown, and Holly remembered the effort it had taken on both their parts to make it something optional. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem."

They shared quick smiles. Holly folded her hands in her lap and waited. Gail scratched at her wrist for a moment.

"It's here too," she said eventually.

"It's here?"

"Yeah. The feeling. It's here as well."

"In…the morgue."

"Yes. No." Gail glared at her. "With you." Holly lifted her eyebrows. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"I know, it's lame of me."

"Not what I was going to say."

"Sure it wasn't." Gail scratched at her wrist again. "I think it was always you," she said, glancing away.

Holly licked her lips. They were chapped, she thought, and dry from the air conditioner as well as her nervous habit of biting them as she wrote her final reports. She nodded. "I missed you too," she said, and Gail's shoulders slumped a little. With relief? Holly thought so.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Not everything has changed."

"I still hate people," Gail said, more or less happily. She did seem cheered by the idea as she dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Holly's desk.

"Liar. You're a big softie."

"Am not. And I wasn't back then," she said. "I just never hated you."

Holly rolled her eyes. A thought occurred to her then. "Do you now?" She let out a relieved breath when Gail shook her head no. "Well. That's something."

Gail nodded. That was something. That was a big something.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked quickly.

"I'm still settling in, actually. Paperwork. Different paperwork. Maybe some more work involving paper. Why?"

"There's this place I know," Gail said so awkwardly that Holly had to smile into the palm of her hand as she pretended to cough. The narrowed eyes that earned her told Holly that Gail was a detective for a reason and knew exactly what Holly had done. "There's this place," she forged on, "that serves drinks. Some crappy food. We should catch up."

"I'd like that."

"Great."

"Tonight?"

"I'm free after eight."

"How's eight thirty?"

"Sounds like a plan. Text me the directions," she told her.

"Number – ah." Gail accepted the card Holly handed to her. "Dr Holly Stewart," she read. She smiled a little. "It sounds good. Worth it?"

"Every second."

Gail softened, just a little. Stood and slipped the card into her pocket. "I'll see you later."

"Yes," Holly agreed. "You will."

"God," Dov said, clapping Gail on the shoulder and squeezing. "Could you be more painfully on edge?"

"I'm not sure," she said sweetly. "But I know who could be in more pain." She glanced at the hand on her shoulder and he removed it quickly.

"Point taken."

"Please go away. "

"Fine. But only because all your glaring is turning my beer sour."

"You actually bought a really crappy beer, Dov."

"Whatever."

He wandered away and they were down to three. Chris bent over a file and a beer, Chloe smiled brightly at Gail.

"What do you want?" she snapped at her friend.

"Nothing."

"Nothing doesn't make you smile like that. Dov proposing made you smile like that. Getting off rookie made you smile like that. Kissing a girl on your twenty-first made you smile like that. It's creepy."

"Okay, well, first of all I was kissing you of course I was smiling-"

"Ew don't mention that ever again."

"Don't be ashamed. It was a beautiful, drunken moment between friends." Chloe patted her hand. "And I'm smiling because I'm happy for you, Gail."

"Nothing has happened."

"Yet," she said, still patting her hand. Gail grimaced and pulled away, lifting her beer to her mouth. "Yet," Chloe murmured again, winking, and she sidled off to join Dov at darts.

"Why are we friends with her?" Gail asked Chris.

"Hmm?"

"Speaking of, why am I friends with you?"

"Because I'm cute."

"Don't overestimate your cuteness."

"I don't. I'm incredibly cute," Chris mumbled. "I'm sorry," he said, looking up from the file for the first time that night. "I'm just really busy."

"I know."

"I'm also leaving."

"What?"

"See you later."

And then he was gone. Gail frowned after him, confused until she saw a hand pull out the stool next to her and Holly sit in the recently vacated seat.

"So."

"So."

Gail lifted a hand, getting the quick attention of the bartender.

"You all became cops."

"Yep."

"Interesting." Holly smiled at the bartender, ordered her drink. "Is that Chris?" She pointed to his back, recognising the broad shoulders and the dark hair. Gail nodded. "Is he reading at the bar?"

"Yeah. He's studying. There's this new program he wants to get into. Kinda like Special Victims," she explained. "He wants to look after kids." Holly nodded. She remembered his story, remembered how gentle he had been with Lucy. Other than Gail, she remembered thinking that he had been the one most suited to looking after kids.

She wondered if Gail had any.

"And you're a detective," Holly said with a curl to her lips. It was a safer direction. "Impressive."

"Thank you."

Holly bit her lip, leant in. "Is it too late to buy you a drink? To celebrate your promotion?"

"Yes." She smiled when Holly's face fell. "But do it anyway." She lifted her hand again, gestured for a refill. "What about you? Moving back here, doesn't that deserve a celebration?"

"I suppose it does."

"And who do I have to thank?" Gail asked. She'd had enough drinks to be brave. Or careless. "Your wife? Girlfriend?"

"My boss." Holly threw back the last of her drink. "She needed someone here. I offered." She read the sour look correctly - vague answer, question remained unanswered - and laughed. "No girlfriend, no wife, no attachment," she said. "What about you?"

"No one."

It was layered, that answer. Holly knew there would be stories behind it – break ups and make ups and history that she wanted to know. But it was just suggestive enough that it prompted another

"I have a great whiskey at home," she confessed. "Want to share it with me?"

Gail finished her drink. Placed it down purposefully. "This is fast," she said.

"It's just a drink," Holly countered and they both grinned over at the wall of bottles because please. As if. They both knew it wasn't. "Okay yes," she said with a nod. "It's fast. We aren't the same people anymore."

"Things have happened." Gail pointed out.

Holly wanted to hear about every one of them.

"I'm okay with it if you are."

Gail pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Dr Holly Stewart." She tasted the title and the name – fondness and tequila mixed - "welcome home."

The kiss they shared when they reached Holly's door? That was home too.

Happy reading, Readers :)