Author's Note: My second installment of the FicTacToe challenge… this was really challenging to write but I hope you guys like it. Includes all of the episodes leading up to 1.08 Honor Roll.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

Lust.

She was the exact opposite of what he thought he wanted.

Instead of a warm brunette, she was a blonde. Icy blonde.

Instead of warm tan skin, she had pale skin. Icy pale.

Instead of warm brown eyes, she had blue eyes. Icy blue.

As Dov had put it… Denise was a good girl from the country and Gail Peck was a bitch from the city.

He had been in love with Denise, or so that's what he thought.

It was different with Gail. He wasn't in love, he was… in lust. Or so that's what he thought.

Their first time together definitely hadn't been about love.

"Do you want to get a drink?" He asked her after she had come to find him in the locker room. "Are you free?"

"Whoa… a drink?" She asked, her eyes wide, "We just solved a homicide in one day, all by ourselves and you're asking me for one drink?"

"Or… or two," he'd stuttered.

"Two, wow, I got you up to two drinks Diaz. Do you have a curfew or something," she mocked, "because we caught a murderer."

"We did," he said, catching her excitement, "We caught a murderer."

"And you don't need a note from your mom to go out," she told him, moving to go around him. Somehow he got in her path and before he could stop himself, before he gave himself a chance to think about it, he dipped his head down to kiss her.

It was Gail that deepened the kiss, that brought her hands up to the back of his head to pull him closer to her. She felt his hands gripping her back and she traced a finger down the front of his chest before hooking it through his belt loop, pulling his hips against hers, angling herself against him. When she heard him moan at the contact she grinned and stood on her tiptoes to whisper huskily into his ear, "Let's get out of here."

Love was the last thing on his mind as he followed her through the station. His eyes were mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips and when she'd broken stride briefly to turn around and wink at him, her red lips in a full pout, he thought he felt himself literally go weak at the knees.

She rolled her eyes at him when he held the door open for her, "That's sweet Diaz," she said, sliding into the car. "But you don't have to try so hard." He gulped and nodded, closing her door.

They hadn't made it very far from the station before she pointed out an empty lot and grinned, "Live a little." She licked her lips and he felt his already weak resolve to make it special crumble, felt himself giving in to the desire that was coursing through his body. Chris yanked the car into the lot about the time he felt her small hands on the skin just above the waistband of his pants, tugging his shirt up. He parked and shrugged the shirt off before reaching for her, holding her face between his hands. With one last measured breath he pulled her towards him, fusing his lips to hers and dragging her over the console of the car.

She grinned into the kiss and without breaking contact, pushed his seat back into a reclining position, straddling his hips. Breathing heavily she broke away, smiling wickedly down at him as she unbuttoned her shirt, watching as his hungry eyes followed the path of skin she revealed. When she got to the last button he hands covered hers, pushing them away. He finished unbuttoning it and trailed his fingers back up her stomach, over the soft skin above her bra. "You're beautiful," he heard himself croak out before slipping her shirt off of her shoulders, leaning up to press soft kisses across her collarbone.

When she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, Chris couldn't remember a time when he had wanted anything more, when his body had felt more on fire than it did at that moment. His hands tightened on her hips as she pulled her bra away and Gail watched as he struggled to maintain eye contact with her, as if allowing his eyes to dip down to her breasts would offend her. "Stop thinking, Chris," she said, reaching down to guide his hands up over her, "Just feel."

So he did.

Every time since the first he felt like he was cracking her façade, bit by bit. Chipping away the ice, so to speak. She opened up to him in a way he didn't think she opened up to anyone else. He saw of side of her that she reserved only for him; the way she smiled at him before reaching up to kiss him, the softness that entered her eyes when he whispered that she was beautiful. He began to think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't just lust that brought them together after all.

That was until he watched her brother lead her out of the bar, after he'd failed to convince her to stay.

Chris Diaz was a good Catholic boy. He had been taught about lust and the other seven deadly sins around the same time he learned that fire was hot and ice was cold. He knew about heaven and hell, about the pit of fire that burned eternally for those who committed the deadly sins. He knew he'd be spared that fate, because he'd gone to confession to ask forgiveness for lusting after Gail Peck.

What he didn't know until later, until her cold blue eyes met his one last time before leaving the bar, was that sometimes, ice burned just as badly as fire.