2019-11-07 - Meeting Monica

Gabriel makes his way from the Backyard, dusting off his hands, from inspecting Corey's garden with him. Corey is ... wherever Corey is right now, and Gabe moves over to the kitchen to toss out his empty bottle of soda into the recycling, whistling to himself as he does and checking his phone, of course.

It would seem Monica's returned from wherever she's scampered off. She's obviously in different clothes, and her hair is a touch darker, though still pulled back. Fresh out of the shower? Probably. She's now dressed in an oversized hoodie feature UCSB hoodie... and, seemingly, no pants? Probably shorts, but it's just long, long legs tucked under, as she sits on the couch in the living room, with an iPad on her lap. She's flicking through pictures, it seems. Her gaze is quite focused, but she does notice the man returning. Eyes flick up. "Oh, hey," she says, with a smile. Then back to pictures.

"Hola, Moncia." Gabriel switches to Spanish because it is just the two of them here. "Insta?" he asks, nodding down at her tablet, curiously. "Feel like we got off on the wrong foot earlier. Or you were eyeing me up weird. We cool?" He arches a brow at her, as if checking to make sure.

"Que pasa?" she asks, without looking up. "Uh-... Oh, no. Not, uh, insta. I mean, maybe... no, this is homework," she says, making a face. Then she turns to show him the tablet. It's a shot of some of the cliffs and the ocean. She then blinks a few times, and stares for a long, awkward moment. "Oh! ... Uh. N-n... No?" she asks. And already there's a hint of pink creeping into cheeks. "I mean, like, we cool! Just, like, didn't-... know Sparrow had... Uh. A boyfriend."

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders as makes his way closer, perching himself on the edge of the couch. "I mean, an older homicide detective that she's sleeping with. We're close, but it's not exclusive, I can say that much." He looks down at the cliffs and the ocean, nodding. "Impressive. You snap those?" And then back to Sparrow. "But sorry. Didn't mean to be all in the middle of your living room making out with her when you walked in."

"Wh-... what?" Monica says, as she continues to stare. Okay, now she's probably more confused than embarrassed. She blinks a few times, before she shakes her head. "No, I-... Oh! Yes! These. Yes. This is-... like... I'm in school for photography. Or, like, an art degree, you know? But photography focus. That's-... I get pictures taken of me and I take pictures," she finally concludes, with a smile. "And, no. It's cool. I just-... I thought she was dating a different guy. So, was, like, you know. Like, who the fuck is this dude?"

"Yeah. She is dating another guy. AJ. It's. I don't know. It is what it is." Gabriel seems a little bit confused by the whole thing himself, truth be told. "But you might be seeing me around, is all. I mean, what? You don't have boys banging down your door?"

"Yeeeah. Okay, so, you know about that? You're cool with that? I totally do not understand it," she admits, with a little laugh. Then a breath in, and her eyes go wide. "Phil says I'm intimidating. Cause, like, gorgeous. And Corey says I'm annoying as fuck. So, I figure, like... guys think they have no chance cause I'm so hot? Then when they finally try, they find out I'm obnoxious and lacking in personality?" Monica gives a little giggle. "Not, like, award winning combo, sabes?"

Gabriel allows, at least, that much. "Well, I can see the hot part. Not so much the annoying part, but I'm sure you can get under my skin soon enough." He seems amused, more than anything. "And anyway. I'm not sure I get it, either. But I'm having fun and trying not to let it worry me."

"Yeah! Like... have fun. That's what life's about, right?" Monica asks. Then she laughs. "I don't date. I mean, like... mostly by choice. But-..." she flaps a hand, dismissing the thought. "And you can get my IG. Stare at pictures of me in almost no clothes! Totally what it's all about, right?" Another laugh. "So, uh-... cop...?"

"Well, obviously," laughs Gabriel when Monica speaks of being barely dressed on her Insta account. "Yeah. Detective. Homicide. So a kind of cop." But not a uniform, let's not be silly now. Not a cop cop. "Catch the bad guys that kill people."

"I mean, that's obviously, like, super hot. But obviously you know that, because you're fucking sexy redheads," Monica says, with a grin. "But, like-... also? It's pretty messed up that there's a need for homicide cops in small town Washington, isn't it? I just read about another body being discovered, like, what, three days ago?"

"Yeah. I mean ..." Gabriel's voice trails off, not really sure how to explain Gray Harbor's body count. "The town has always had more than its fair share of murders. I can't really explain it. But we don't have full shifts of homicide. Mostly just me and my partner and the rest of the detectives pick up cases as they happen. Yet ..." It is a good point. Anyway. "You think it's hot? Most think it's creepy."

"I think the cop part is hot..." Monica muses. "And, like... yeah! It's hot. I mean it's kind of creepy, but creepy's kind of hot? Right?" she asks, brows lifting. "Plus, I could totally be like 'Oh, my boyfriend is a homicide detective'... I mean, like, you know. If-..." And she waves a hand again. "My dad would probably flip, though. He's pretty anti-cop."

"Well, the good thing about being a homicide cop is everyone's against homicide. No one's like, 'You know what's wrong with this country? The War on Murder.' People can pretty much agree that is bad." Gabriel shrugs his shoulders as he gets up from the edge of the couch and fetches himself some water from the kitchen.

She gives a soft little laugh, smiling brightly, and she nods. "Mostly, yeah. Except when homicide cops frame people and shit," she points out. A pause, then a soft little sigh. "Dad's a public defender. Over in Yakima? Lots and lots of immigrants rights stuff and-..." And Monica just shakes her head. "He's got issues. But you're mostly right! And you're not the kind of cop that frames people for muder... right?"

Gabriel furrows his brow, but then shakes his head. "No. Of course not. I put down my cases fair and square. Honestly, there's a lot of racist shit in the South. But most of the bad stuff is when detectives get honed in on one person and don't consider all the evidence." Gabe on Homicide Detectiving. "And yeah, public defenders are assholes who let shitheads get away with murder. Literally. But get he's just doing his job." He digs out a business card and hands it over to Monica as he swigs from the water. "In case you ever need my number. I can't fix tickets. Don't ask."

Monica finally unfurls herself, to put her feet on the floor and lean forward, to take the card. "Nice," she says, to herself, before leaning back to inspect. "I don't have a car. Lyft or run or bicycle... so, no worries about the tickets! And pots legal, so, I'm a pretty upright citizen and shit." Beat. "Okay maybe some trespassing? But I've yet to meet the person who finds-..." She gestures to herself. "On their property with a camera and calls the cops..." She flicks the card, then shoves it into the pocket of her hoodie.

"Yeah. I hear you. Anyway. Good to meet you, Monica." Gabriel raises a hand and goes to head for the door. "I'm sure I'll see you around, yeah?"

Monica's standing up as well, and she nods. "Definitely! Unless, like, Philrow dumps your ass..." Beat. "Then you can come see me." She laughs, waves, and then heads up the stairs.