2019-10-07 - Meet Cute

It's a close walk from 5 Bayside Drive across the way to the rocky beach. In fact, almost directly across from her driveway is a flat rock that Erin has claimed as her own more often than not. Despite the briskness of the air, she's there again today, getting all she can out of the fall season before it gets too cold. The breeze off the ocean is a little cool but the weather is holding out for wave watching.

With a dark blue fuzzy blanket spread over the rock, Erin is sitting on it, dressed casually in a pair of pale khaki colored pants that are somewhat loose fitting with the legs rolled up into cuffs about mid-shin level. Over it is an oversized sweater in a pale green. Seated with one leg folded in front of her and the other bent with her knee up, she rests her hands on the bent knee, fingers interlaced. Her feet are bare, her hair is left free, and she looks comfortable and content with watching the ocean.

Near that rock, though perhaps not so near that Erin would notice it at first, has been stashed a gym bag. Nothing too interesting about it. Just one of those nylon-sided things with a shoulder strap you can lug to the gym. It has a Nike logo on it. Probably picked up at some sporting goods store. But it has been stashed there by the figure approaching on the sands. Gabe is in a windbreaker and some sweatpants, having gone for a run on the beach, despite the brisk air. He seems to be running towards the rock, coming to the end of his jog if the panting and perspiration on his brow when he draws nearer is any guide.

The breeze alternately picks up and dies down, waves turning to whitecaps when it increases. When they roll back out and deposit their treasures on the water packed sand, Erin has taken to watching and now and again collects some of the prettier shells. Or shark teeth. Or if she's super lucky, sand dollars. Today hasn't been a day for great finds but she doesn't look as if she minds doing anything other than sitting there. Movement from her peripheral vision has her turning towards it and since she hadn't noticed the bag she doesn't exactly know why a man would be running towards her. It's such a random thing that she just watches for a moment before she drops her feet down to the sand in front of the rock as if she's preparing to stand. His attire doesn't really say menacing to her but then again, she's got company. That horcrux thing that boils and bubbles in there all scary like. In fact, she does get to her feet and holds up a hand all domineering-like. "STOP right there." There's not fear in her eyes, and it's more than self preservation. There's all sorts of anger, loathing and hate. With a dash of murder. Bitch looks crazy!

And, of course, Gabriel has no idea why Erin would be so upset. He's just going to get his gym bag at the end of his run! On the beach! Like he often does! He is in the zone of the runner's high, and he has earbuds in with music or a podcast or whatever it is he is listening to, so he at first can't quite figure out what Erin is going on about. But finally after a few more steps it registers as he takes out his earbuds, letting them drop down around his ears. He holds up his hands, all 'this is fine', and takes a step back.

"It's all right," he says, dealing with the woman like she's a jumper or a crazy he's had to deal with in the past. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name's Gabe. What's your name?" He projects outward CALM, trying to edge her off the ledge.

Generally, Erin is pretty mild mannered unless something seriously makes her angry. This whole overreaction of hers is out of the norm. Not that the poor man catching her at a bad time could tell. A deep breath is taken and she opens her mouth to lambaste him, but whatever that anger is, wherever it came from, she hits a solid wall of calm. Her mouth closes and Erin looks confused briefly.

Very briefly. "I.." There's a look of contriteness on her features and her cheeks pinken wth embarrassment. "I'm really sorry." There's a moment where she contemplates leaving off her name, just so he doesn't know who it was that freaked out on him. It's probably pretty apparent what she's thinking. Finally, she offers her hand and a tentative smile. "I'm sorry, Gabe. It's been a long fall. I'm Erin." Then just goes full on, "Erin Addington."

It helps at least a little bit that Gabe had his earbuds in at the initial shout to stop right there. So it mutes some of the craziness that he perceived. But he did still see a fair bit. At first, Gabriel isn't quite sure what to make of it. He looks her over, as if considering whether she might be high at the moment. It's a frequent reason. But seeing nothing obvious, he allows it to drop.

"It's all right. Between the flu going around and everything, everyone's a bit on edge." The detective gestures over at the bag near the rock, the thing that caused this dust-up in the first place. "Everything okay otherwise, Erin?" He keeps a bit of respectful distance. Just in case.

Right. Crazy. Erin drops her hand and the tentative nature of the smile turns more to self-deprecation. Turning slightly at the gesture, she does take notice of the bag. The very thing she'd missed when she came out here. "Yours, I imagine?" Erin sits back on the rock and closes her eyes. "I'm sure you haven't, but have you ever made such a fool of yourself you wish the ground would just open up and let you disappear?" It's more a rhetorical question but she asks it anyway. "Everything is okay otherwise. I'm not going to freak out or anything." Again. Crossing her arms under her chest, she regards him a moment with undisguised curiosity. "Do you run here on the beach often? I ask, because I just moved in nearby recently."

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders. "When the weather allows," he says about the frequency of his runs. "I try to mix it up. Cardio. Weights. I belong to Kelly's Gym because the little workout room they have at the station smells like machismo and stale coffee." So a cop? Probably. "But yeah, that's mine." He gestures at the bag, going to get it and drop his earbuds inside. "And don't worry about it. I've seen it all. And probably done a lot of it, too. You don't even crack the top ten of shit I've seen. Or top twenty." He gestures at the rock. "Spot for a second?"

"Oh I don't know, I don't think there's any wrong weather here. Especially the thunder storms when they're out there over the ocean, before they come rolling in. It's really something to see, I recommend it sometime." There's a tilt of her head at the mention of Kelly's Gym, but the real realization is the whole cop part. "Ah.." Just leaving it at that, for that part of it for a moment. "I work at Kelly's. I've been training there on the bags. It's the best gym in town. Joey's a good guy." The gesture towards the rock has her scooting over. It's plenty big. "Of course. It's the least I could offer." A wry look is given over as she finally gets to his occupation. "You're a police officer?" Sizing him up some. "Not a beat cop, but you work within the department?"

"Yeah. I'm a detective. A homicide detective. No, it usually doesn't get me many dates." Gabriel manages to at least be self-depricating about it. "Or the people really interested are usually morbid creeps. So it's all sorts of beneficial for my personal life." He goes to take a seat on the rock near her, keeping a pleasant personal space for her. "But yeah. It's a great gym. What do you do there? I'll need to say hi next times our paths cross."

"Have you lived in town long? I don't remember you growing up here or anything. I'm sure I would remember." And probably not freaked out for him approaching her. Erin tries for a reassuring smile. "I could see the disadvantages of it, being a detective here, especially homicide. There are far too many cases for one. I imagine your away time would be detrimental to any sort of personal life." Sort of taking that to mean he was currently single. "I feel your pain. I don't think I've been on an actual date since, I honestly cannot remember when." When he sits down, Erin makes sure he has plenty of room for himself too, more sitting there with her bare toes buried in the sand. "I'm a receptionist of sorts, I suppose. I do memberships for those seeking one, I keep coffee made, got t-shirts made, wash the towels. Also, I'm attending nursing school when I'm not working, so there's that also."

"Me? No. Well. Not as long as some people. A couple of years. People would call me an 'Outsider' rather than a 'Townie,' I would guess," laughs Gabe as he tries to figure out his place in the small-town dichotomy that is Gray Harbor. "But it's not like I just unpacked my U-Haul, you know? I'm over on Oak. Got a house over there."

There is a sort of wan smile when Erin mentions the workload and the toll it takes. "Yeah. Something like that. Way more bodies per capita than most other towns of its size, let me tell you. But I like the work. It's not fun. But it's fulfilling. Speaking for the dead, I guess you'd say. But it does make nights hard." A beat. "If you wanted to get back into practice. You know. Just to remember what it's like." Is that a Line? It might be a Line.

"I'm a lifer. Born here, raised here, lived here forever. It's not so bad though. I used to think so, wanted to get out, but it's grown on me. The people are nice." Erin knows where Oak is, but she motions towards the house across from the beach, 5 Bayview Drive. It's got a great view of the ocean and there's a sports car parked in front of it, a Maserati. "I just recently moved in over there. I was living in an apartment before then."

The mention of the bodies lately brings with it a more solemn expression. "The dead need someone to speak for them. I'm glad they have you batting for them. Do you do forensics or anything? I think that would be interesting, but a lot to learn." It takes a moment for Erin to realize what he was talking about, getting back into practice. At the Gym? Then it all comes together and she laughs softly. "Is that a question or? Because if it is, I won't say no. If it isn't, then I get to look a little more foolish today."

"Oh. No. It's a question. It's a question whether you'd be willing to go on a date with me. And because you said you won't say no, I am taking it as a yes, before I embarrass myself even more with this clumsy attempt at asking someone out." Gabe sort of stumbles his way through it all, but lands right around where he wants to be. With a commitment. "And see? This is why we need practice. We're rusty." He laughs.

But then back to the job. "I mean, I know enough forensics to tell the techs what I need and to know how to understand the results. But I like the forensics people do the forensics. I don't look through the microscopes or anything." Gabe's eyes then flick over towards the house she gestures at, and he lets out a low whistle. "Those are ... nice. Shit. Is that a Maserati?" He's seen pictures.

"I would be a fool to say no and I have been there enough times today. So, I would very much like to go on a date with you." Erin agrees again, more officially this time, laughing when he does about them being rusty. She gently bumps her shoulder to his as she looks over at him. "I think this is the part where we set a day and a time." Definitely rusty.

The description of his job and the forensics part holds her interest. "I considered going that way with my career. I'm still considering it. There's a college specifically for forensic science and I'm really considering it. I'd do independent though. I'm pretty sure I don't have what it takes to be a police officer. Though it sounds like you really enjoy your work." Glancing over towards the house when he whistles, Erin tries to see it new, through his eyes and she smiles a little. "It is. I love the car. Tell ya what, we can take it if you want, when we go out. But you can drive if you like?"

Gabe bumps Erin's shoulder back playfully and then reaches over for his gym bag, making a show of saying, "Just reaching for my phone! Promise!" He then grabs up the iPhone from his bag and goes to scroll through it, checking his calendar. "How does -- Saturday night work for you? I am not sure a detective can take you any place worthy of an Addington, but I can help you find some actual authentic Mexican with margaritas that are actually good and not just pumped full of sugar and as big as your head." He's easing himself into this. He sort of remembers how it goes. "At 7?"

Then, at the offer, "I'd kill for that, chica, but I don't have the insurance for it on my sedan, so it's at your risk." He laughs. "I do like the work. It's necessary work. People shouldn't have to see dead bodies. But someone has to. And if I can do it, and if I can hold people responsible for what they do?" He shakes his head. "That's satisfying. And either way, nursing or forensics? Both really worthy jobs. Helping people."

There's light laughter at the bump back, but what really amuses her is that reassurance when he reaches for his bag. "Somehow I think that's going to take me a long time to live down." There's a smile with the words, laughing at herself along with him. "The only thing other than work that I have planned is a funeral in a few days, but Saturday night would be perfect. One thing, let's not fall into the whole social standing aspect of anything. You're not just a detective any more than I'm just an Addington. We can just spend the evening being Gabe and Erin. And Mexican food is my favorite. I think we'll get along just fine. And I don't mind risking the car with you driving it. Working in the department, I can guess you're probably a great driver."

Interested in his work, Erin falls silent to listen, watching him as he talks about it. "It does sound like you like your work. I'd like to just sit and listen to you talk about it anytime. It's so refreshing talking to someone open about their own lives. So many around here hold so many secrets."

"Oh, jeez," says Gabe when Erin says she has a funeral to go to. "I'm sorry for your loss." It is what one says in these circumstances, but he says it with genuine sympathy. Despite the number of times he must have to say it on a daily or weekly basis. "But yeah. Gabe and Erin. I like it." a smile crinkles at the edges of his lips.

"As for the work? God. You know cops. We can tell war stories all night. Still, though. I'd love to hear your stories. You must have a couple, between the family and nursing and roidheads at the gym. Detective work is basically listening, after all."

"Oh no, it's.. I can't explain it without all that sounding crazy again, but it's not really that sort of funeral. It's been a long time coming." Wishing she could explain more, Erin just shrugs a little helplessly. "Thank you though, your sentiments are appreciated very much." Responding to his smile, she returns one of her own and there's warmth in it.

"How old were you when you decided you wanted to be a police officer? Did you do any military time or anything before hand?" The smile still hasn't dimmed any, "I guess there's a few things, but around here almost everything is more a tragedy than a triumph. And I like listening, so you're welcome to talk about anything you like."

"Ah. Someone that's been sick for a while?" Because, obviously, it couldn't be some crazy Glimmer stuff, could it? Nooooo. "Well, sometimes it can be a blessing." And Gabe leaves it there before he sticks his foot in his mouth.

As for him, he laughs. "Well, I've played cops and robbers since I was a boy, of course. Like all kids do. But I did some time in the Army, went to Iraq. Took my G.I. bill and got my criminal-justice degree from University of California in San Francisco. Then took a patrol job here. Worked my way up." And ta-da. Murder police. "But what about you? What's an Addington doing working in a gym? You must have some cushy corporate gig that you could get or, I don't know, a yacht you can crew on." He may have a skewed view on how wealth works.

"Very sick, for a very long while." And who knows? Maybe Gabe will draw duty for it. "I think you're very right. Sometime it can be a blessing. Everything comes at a cost though. I just hope once all is said and done, things can return to normal around here again." Normal is subjective of course.

"Cops and robbers sounds fun. Were you ever the robber or always the cop?" With a smile, she listens, though she does appear concerned at the mention of Iraq. "It sounds as if everything you've done has led up to you doing exactly what you're doing. It's nice when things work out the way they were meant to." When he comes back round to the 'Addington' thing she shrugs lightly. "It was a misunderstanding that got me the job in the Gym. Joey offered something to a friend of his, I thought he was talking to me and accepted and he's too good a man to take anything back like that. So I started the next day. I really enjoy it. I had gone there for some pointers on self defense and ended up more than I bargained for. No regrets though. My grandmother isn't happy about it, to say the least, but I've got to see it through."

"Well. It's about drive. It's about self-starting. Murder policing. No one is going to yell you into cracking a case. Not the Captain. Not the Chief. You've got to want to get up and want to do it. To go knock on doors, chase the leads, look at the file one more time. If you don't want to it, then you'll never be any good at it. Wash out. Transfer to Vice or Property Crimes or something. Murders are different." Or so Gabe thinks. Then he realizes he's been preaching, holding forth on the Great Brotherhood of Murder Detectives and Its Creed, and shuts up. "Sorry. I can get kinda religious about this stuff at times. But if you believe, like I do, that every life's got inherent dignity and worth? Then it means every murder matters. It's what gets me going."

Crap. "I did it again."

"Well, hey. Any work is good work if you do it well. Good for you." The detective's head nods at the car and the house across the way. "Not crimping your lifestyle none, at least."

"There are a lot of good people working at the department. I respect you all for what you do and I understand it can't be so easy pushing yourself to search for leads when it seems like there's none to be found. I admire your tenacity and the pride you take, but more so the heart you seem to put in it judging by the passion you hold when you talk about it. I always heard once you're working at something you love, you'll never actually work a day in your life." Erin smiles quietly when he says he did it again. "It's fun to listen to you."

With a glance back to her house and the car, she sort of looks a little sheepish. "That? Perks of the Addington name."

"Oh, that's bullshit. I work plenty. It's a lot of crap. But the look when you get the confession or snap on the cuffs or hear the jury say 'Guilty'? It makes up for it." Gabe's eyes have a certain far-away look to them, as he reflects on it. "Anyhow. You've got me all sentimental. I'm supposed to be a cynical asshole."

Gabe then looks down at his phone and realizes the time. "Shit. I need to get into the office. I've got an interview." He reaches down to his bag and pulls out a business card with his cell number on it. "This is my number. Text me so I have yours. And -- I'll look forward to Saturday?" He pauses on that, as if hoping the date didn't vanish in the interim. And then he seems uncertain how to bid her goodbye, wavering between a kiss on the cheek or maybe or -- he settles for another bump to the shoulder. That works. Smooth, Gabe.

"Yeah that's all I meant. That you get a lot out of it. I didn't mean to insinuate you didn't put in a hard days work." Catching that far away look makes her curious and Erin asks, "Do your parents live back in California?" Another smile curves her lips and she reassures, "I kind of like sentimental. Though I don't mind cynical either. I think both are probably required for your job."

And all good things must come to an end. "Good luck on the interview." Assuming it was an interrogation or something. Accepting the card, she reaches into her pocket and adds him as a contact before sending him a text so he'd have her number. "Definitely Saturday. I'm looking forward to it very much." Leaning in, she bumps her shoulder to his in return. "It was nice meeting you, Gabe. Text me anytime."

(TXT to Gabriel) Erin: Here's my number, can't wait to see you again.
(TXT to Erin) Gabriel: I can't wait, either. 😉 Glad I almost ran into you.