YES to all of that.

I'm on this. Might be a few days, because I can already tell it's gonna be longer than 4300.

.

It was no secret, Harvey Bullock loved women.

Skinny women, tall women, big fat women, women with habits and addictions, women who kept six cats in their run-down apartments, pretty rich women looking for a thrill and to piss off daddy. Women who worked in offices and factories, women who got paid to do it. He loved ‘em all, every last pair of tits and perfect cunt, every last giggle and slap and insult, their soft hair and skin and the way they looked against him.

What could he say? He was an old sap. Couldn’t resist their charms.

But there was no woman like Fish Mooney. No, Mooney was a fucking diamond in the shit-pit rough of Gotham.

The first time he met her he was a rookie, wet behind the ears at thirty-five, fresh off the idea that he could make it in Gotham without cracking a few skulls. Dix was already in the hospital and off the streets. He had a new partner, some old fuck who needed a young partner to do the dirty work for him, and Harvey was already cynical enough to go with the flow.

“You’re on your own with this one,” Essen told him, handing him a file and a scrawled address. “I heard Mooney likes ‘em young and handsome.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow, taking the file.

Essen sighed. “You’re as good as it’s going to get.”

“Mooney, eh? Fish Mooney. Why have I never heard of this guy before?” Harvey tried to keep away from the mafia families but it was Gotham, there was only so much distance he could keep. “He with Maroni?”

“She’s with Falcone,” Essen said, stalking back into her office. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Mooney owned the night club downtown, the one Harvey never had enough guts, cash, or connections to frequent. It was all too high-end anyways—but damn, the women were nice, all decked out in furs and silky dresses, their hair curled like film stars. “Excuse me, beautiful,” Harvey asked a woman lounging in the lobby of the club, “where can I find your madam?”

The woman snorted. “This isn’t a whorehouse, pig. But if you’re looking for my mama, she’s right over there.” The woman lazily gestured to the back of the club in front of the small stage.

From the first moment Harvey saw Fish Mooney, he knew he was fucking gone, out the window, balls in a vice for this woman sitting in front of the stage. But he couldn’t let her know that yet.

“Miss Mooney,” Harvey said, clearing his voice as he wove between tables and chairs. “Harvey Bullock, GCPD. Can I have a word?” Before he could get within five feet, two men in suits—her fucking pet-boys, of course—stood in his way.

Mooney turned in her chair, elegant as a swan, and glanced at Harvey. She almost turned back before doing a subtle double-take, glossed lips curling into a vicious smile.

Harvey felt his cock swell just at that look, at the way her eyes glittered beneath the red fringe of her bangs, the way the light almost glanced off the jewel-cut of her cheekbones. He could see himself at her mercy, tied to the posts of her bed, crammed beneath the heel of her designer shoes. He wanted his blood on her lips.

“It’s okay, Butch,” Mooney said, voice like smoke and honey. “Let this handsome devil on over.” She stood, the singer on the stage pausing, and placed a hand on her hip. Blue silk dress with a collar that was…peacock feathers? Sapphires on her ears.

I’m so fucked, Harvey thought, and stepped towards Fish Mooney.

The first time Eliot kisses Parker - well, actually, she kissed him. She'd jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, and kissed his cheek - or tried to, actually hitting his ear in a drum-bursting, "Mwaaah! My Eliott!" If it had been anyone else, he would've dropped her on her ass, but...Parker, so he just grimaced and whined, and she laughed, and told him he was her charger, she was a knight, and carry her to yon tower so she can rescue the fair man (Hardison, being both tower and man, though anything but fair). Hitching her higher on his back, Eliot hauled her over to Hardison, but he refused to whinney, no matter how much Parker pled.

The first time she really kissed him, Hardison was sleeping on the couch, unable to stay awake despite the whole, Star Trek marathon including "TOS" and "Next Gen", whatever the hell that meant. Parker was sitting next to him, inbetween him and Eliot, and she suddenly turned to Eliot and said, "Hardison and I made an agreement," and without any further information, planted a kiss right on Eliot's mouth. Despite flailing, he couldn't get away - particularly with Parker straddling his thighs.

When he finally managed to pry her off of him, Eliot hissed, "Hardison's right there!"

Parker gave him the most bland look he'd ever seen. "Uh, huh." Leanng sideways, she slapped Hardison's thigh. "Hardison. Alec. I kissed Eliot."

"Kiss'm once for me, baby," Hardison said sleepily and Parker grinned and stooped in like a hawk.

Eliot managed to get a hand between their faces. "I'm not comfortable with this!" he growled.

"Hardison, explain to Eliot." Parker wasn't moving off of his lap, and even folded her arms.

"Baby girl likes you," Hardison yawned. "I like you." He opened one eye. "Even if you are, you know, more masculine than anyone I know. S'okay, Eliot."

"See?"

Eliot grabbed Parker by the waist, ignoring her squawk of surprise, picking her up and setting her back on the couch (not without a struggle. Wiry little thing). "No," he said. "No, no, no." He shook a finger at both of them. "No." Spinning on his heel, he stomped out of the room, Parker sending a pout after him.

"Don't worry, darlin'," Hardison said, looping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her up against him. "Anybody fightin' that hard is gonna come around, sooner or later. Until then, just steal his shirts and wear'm to bed." He smiled. "Besides, you can convince anyone of anything. Even a stubborn little thing like Eliot." Kissing her cheek, Hardison nuzzled her ear. "In the mean time, we can give him something else to think about."

"What, are you filming us having sex and posting it to his computer?"

Hardison blinked. "You have the best ideas, sweetheart, truly. Let's get undressed and get that started."

It was Marketing's idea to make a calendar with pictures of the on-air personalities to give out at live appearances. The on-air personalities were, understandably, thrilled with this. Unfortunately, each personality wanted specific months.

"We have got to get July," Frasier said.

"July? Why not Christmas?" Roz asked. "I already have a cute Christmas outfit picked out."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I admit to being terrified at what you might pick out for a Christmas outfit."

"Other people would probably like it." Curling her lip at his reaction, Roz said, "All right, explain why you want July."

"If we can acquire July's page, then we're perfectly positioned within the calendar. The absolute middle, where viewers must flip past to see any of the rest of the year." Frasier folded his arms, triumphant.

"But if we're in December, then we're the last thing anyone sees of the year!"

"And I'm sure you'd like to show off your thigh high Santa boots."

Roz gave him a look. "Do you want to know what I'd wear for July?"

"If you tell me a patriotic bikini, I'd believe all the rumors I've ever heard about you." Frasier smiled blandly at her glare.

X X X

"So, this is the KACL calendar," Niles said, flipping through the pages. "I see you made June." He raised his eyebrows at Frasier.

Frasier all but pouted in return. "Gil managed to acquire July. And the entire staff are included in Christmas."

"So I see." Niles set the calendar down. "Well. Better luck next year."

Scowling, Frasier gestured at the pages. "Do you know who's picture is the favorite? The most popular?"

"I'm afraid not," Niles said, but obligingly went back to turning the pages. "Oh. Yes, yes I do." He held up the month of February, with Father Mike holding a kitten. "It's this one, isn't it?"

Frasier nodded jerkily. "Yes. Yes, and it's because of that damned kitten! That should've been mine and Roz's spot."

"I thought you wanted July." Niles smirked.

"Oh, shut up."