2019-11-26 - The Complication

The Hughes House is a relatively modest house on the outskirts of town - in an area that used to only have a smattering of single family homes. Lots have been subdivided in recent years and things have gotten denser, though it's still not even close to crowded. It's surrounded in tall, moss-draped trees with plenty of needles underfoot. The house itself is unremarkable - a three-bedroom baby blue house with a white trim and door. The outbuilding is newer, and it borders on a small stream. Behind the house is a thick wood, with only a few walking trails that are only kept cut by a few of the locals who use it.

It's just gotten dark, and Gideon is bedding down the animals in his small makeshift wildlife rescue in the outbuilding. He takes in the creatures that aren't house pets until they can be moved to a proper wildlife rescue - or creatures with minor injuries that only need a little TLC. He emerges from the outbuilding with a woolen hat pulled over his ear, a khaki jacket, jeans, plaid beneath the jacket and Blundstones. So - the perfect picture of a PNW resident. He crosses back towards the house, carrying a bucket, a small flashlight attached to his keychain illuminating the way ahead.

To say nothing went as planned this afternoon is understating the situation by about 5-10 possible years in confinement. What the hell was he thinking? Joey doesn't even fucking know. What is known is where to find GIdeon's house and even he can't tell anyone why he remembers it or why it sticks out like a fucking GPS shining in the back of his consciousness.

In his arms, wrapped in his jacket, there's a very tired puppy holding on and in the driver's seat is a tall, blonde haired woman willing to put up with a LOT of his bullshit, driving, and pulling right up into the drive. Arriving the door pops open and the man in the bloody t-shirt with injuries and blood i his hair ((not necessarily his) starts marching on a warpath right toward Gideon's side door into his damn house. Reason may be taking a back seat here. Is he going to even knock?!

As much as she is trying to hold it together, Nicole is trembling quite visibly. When they pull into the drive Joey directed her to, she gets out of the car and is making her way towards the passenger side to open it for him, but is far too slow. The man, carrying the injured pup is out and already heading straight for the house. She is dressed in worn black boots, faded black jeans that are nearing a deep charcoal gray, black leather jacket, and an infinity skull scarf in black and white tucked in the opening at her neck and chest. Beneath the jacket, she wears a plaid shirt in grayscale tones. Rushing after Joey, she tries to get him to perhaps listen to reason, probably futilely. "Joey? Joey... can we go to the... Shit." The side door is opened and Joey looks like he's just gonna walk right in. Under her breath, she murmurs, "please be a friend of yours Joey.... or an associate... something... shit..." She stops and looks up and down the street, then locks the doors to the car by remote and follows after the boxer.

There's not a lot of home especially close by, so the car rolling up the road draws Gideon's attention immediately. He's making his way back from the outbuilding when he sees people running towards his house. He lifts his flashlight to shine at them and calls out, "Hey!" while moving up quickly. Maybe not the smartest thing to go charging towards possible home invaders armed with nothing but a bucket, but here he is. He does pick up a fallen rake and charges towards his door with rake in one hand, bucket in the other, keys with flashlight gripped in his fist.

Joey somehow is holding onto reason here for a man that looks like he beat up a props department. The man turns ready to go toe to toe with person number three today. Something, though, and perhaps that something is Nicole's words bring him to pause on the porch. The look in his eyes is war and the words thunder, but his damn temper is held at bay. "You the vet?" He gets enough of a read on the guy surrounded by lost critters on the lot when his next words fueled by anger and fear somehow come out way too steady, "Then Fix. This. Dog." It's an all out threat, but a request for help. Life's full of conundrums. He stands still so teh man can tell them where to go, but something about Joey's demeanor is making it clear he intends on going somewhere. He might not have gotten this far in the damn plan.

"Please..." Nicole adds after Joey's threat. "Please... if you can please help this pup. He's hurt bad. Real bad." She adds. "We found him... Sorry if we're interrupting anything, it's kind of an emergency." She is a bit frantic, but trying to smooth over the situation if she can. She has an angry, desperate man in front of her carrying a dog, and man thinking they are burglars coming at them with a rake. "Can you please help?"

Gideon's shoulder slump when Joey gets to 'dog.' There is a sense that this isn't the first time someone has shown up at his door with an injured animal. He drops the rake and the bucket, then flicks off the flashlight and jams the keys into his pocket. "Kitchen table." He nods to them both and walks into the house. It's pretty homey inside, with a lot of pieces of furniture that look like they've been handed down through the generations. It also has a...bachelor feel, in that a lot of things are mismatched and haphazard, and arranged for comfort over style.

He clears off a salt and pepper shaker from the kitchen table in the dining area just off the kitchen and motions to that. "What happened?" He turns for a small cabinet and doubles back to the kitchen to retrieve his kit. The good thing about tending to animals on site is that he's well-prepared.

There's the sound of skittering feet and a soft bark as a fluffy white dog followed by a tiny weiner dog who hangs back. "Hey..." he lets out a sharp whistle. "Back, back, lay down." The two dogs whine a bit. The little one lays down. The big one stands, but doesn't venture forward.

What happens over the next several minutes is a bit of a blur. It's a lot of get this and move that. Joey, still covered in what looks like a bad time, and not from the dog takes a step back. His coat is taken back and there's a feather that falls from it and brushes across the floor and, the goose feather, about 7" long brushes past Gideon's foot and towards the side door. Joey pays it no damn mind.

For all Gideon is focused on the task at hand the puppy, though scared responds to him like Dr. Doolittle. There's a look, tired, trusting and the puppy just chills right on out. Joey looks down, hands shaking and puts his hand behind him. Okay the gun is there and the safety is... on. we're on. Holy crap what did today turn into? A bloody hand fishes out his phone and he kicks off a text as Nicole helps the doc.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joey : You there? Something might have gotten a bit out of hand.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joey : I need help.

Nicole is NOT a medic. She can issue a band aid or flush eyes out when she needs but that's about the extent of her know-how. She does try to help though, doing whatever Gideon asks of her. Though she is focused on the pup, she does glance towards Joey fairly often. Seems she's nearly as worried about him as she is the canine. "What happened....." Well, that's a loaded question, isn't it? She looks to Joey again, then back to Gideon. "We were jut walking down the street and... we heard this dog, muffled like, yelping. We found it trapped beneath, like... a crate thing." Crate? Shelves? She's trying to be as truthful as she can without telling the truth. "It was heavy and he was pinned there, looked like he'd been there for.. I dunno, days. So, we uh... brought him here."

It's clear within a few minutes that they're in the right place. Gideon moves around the injured animal, assessing damage and pausing a moment to use his ability to make sure the dog doesn't squirm at the wrong moment or panic. Whatever he used on the dog seems to have been used on his own two canine charges. Either that, or they're just well-trained. The vet is very focused, businesslike and in-control, as he works to do what he can for the animal. "Next time, you'd be better off calling the emergency number. Then someone could have met you at the clinic and I or someone else would be working with an operating room." He doesn't mean to sound chiding, but the bulk of his focus is on the poor creature in his charge.

(TXT to Joey) Ruiz : (a few minutes later) Kelly? What's going on?

Joey looks up to Gideon and asks trying to keep his shit together not wanting to leave the dog, but also not wanting to look like he's wearing his latest crime either. "You can help em though right? Fix em? Look we don't know about emergency numbers, Just," His brow furrows, His phone buzzes and he looks at it slightly pained. An apologetic look to Nicole. "I'm... gonna clean up if it's cool. Sorry for like... breakin into your house." His head is just spinning to the point he just willfully apologized. Wonder of wonders. A thumb, still with dried blood in the cuticles swipes a text back. He sniffs and wipes his eye with the back of his wrist taking a deep breath. Looking around the actual situation is finally setting in and he adds, "I can pay you." Because its what he knows. "Shit I'll be right back." He turns and takes a step back out, slowly to the back porch and sits. He swallows, and folds his hands over his phone resting his forehead to them to get his bearings. Oh the adrenaline crash.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joey : we might have a situation. Can I call?

"Yeah, I..." Nicole shrugs. She has no words for Gideon why they came here instead of calling someone or going to an emergency vet clinic. She doesn't have pets, she doesn't even know where a vet clinic is." I just. No. No next time. Do you need to operate? Can you do that here? Can you save him?" The pup is malnourished, probably dehydrated, tired, bleeding, was pinned so maybe broken bones, she doesn't even know. "He seemed practically..." She doesn't say it, just looks up as Joey says he's going to clean up. Frowning as he walks out the door. She uses her forearm to rub at her forehead and sighs faintly. "What can I do?" she asks to Gideon.

"I need..." Gideon stops, examines the dog, then looks up at Nicole. "I need to focus. I'm not sure if there's much I can do for him, but I can at least make him comfortable." Then his tone goes more gentle, slipping into the voice and posture when dealing with patients. "Just...go make sure your friend is all right, and stay close. I'll call if I need anything."

"Sure... just." Nicole bites her lip and glances towards the door Joey left through then back. "There is no just making him comfortable. You have to save him. Have to." She nods, seeming adamant, though not as threatening as Joey sounded earlier. Turning, she starts heading towards the door, stooping to pick up that feather that fell from Joey's pocket and places it on whatever surface is nearby.

Walking out, she finds Joey with his phone and starts towards him.

Joey sits on the porch trying not to feel sick and looks around and eyes a spigot on the side of the house. Maybe it's not winterized yet. He takes the hankerchief in his back pocket out to try to rub at his face. Shit he's got to look like he's been in a bus accident. He sighs, "Sloppy, Kelly. Fucking sloppy." Doesn't matter because if that little dog can be okay? Hell. worth it. Maybe this is what his life is supposed to add up to. He sighs looking at his phone and calls Ruiz's number. He swallows and wanders in a slow pace in the yard. Looking to Nicole the words he doesn't say are I'm sorry because he's not. He's not a liar. He does tell her "I din't mean for you to get dragged into this shit."

With a sigh he days into the phone, "Pickuppickuppickup..."

Nicole stands there for a moment, lip between teeth, looking at Joey. When he speaks to her, she just shakes her head. She doesn't have words just yet. It may even be difficult to tell how she is feeling or what she is thinking in the moment. Exhaling, she goes to Joey, taking that handkerchief out of Joey's hand, wetting it from the spigot and wringing it out again before dabbing at some of the dried blood on Joey's face. Let him stare at his phone and wait, for now, she'll just clean up what she can.

Three rings, and halfway through the fourth before he picks up. Then a pause, and what sounds like voices in the background. A door slamming shut, which muffles the chatter. The police captain's voice comes over the line a moment later: "Kelly. I'm working. What's going on?"

Joey stands there antsy as shit, pacing like a caged animal drifting to a stop when Nicole tries to take the kerchief and wipe the blood from his face. The ringing sound stops on his phone and he answers. He tries to go for casual but there's something uncertain in his words. He tries to keep that from coming through in his voice but he's only good to lie by omission.

He takes a deep breath. Hand lifts to pause Nicole's hand and gives the palm a smooch letting her do what she will. Cryptically he responds into the phone, "Yeah... me too. I didn't plan on it. Situation uhhhh...kinda got way out of hand. I... I dunno why I'm callin. I just-" He shouldn't be doing this and yet he looks up. "I duno. Maybe I wanted you to hear it from me." It doesn't make a lot of sense. It's the bet he's got.

The line's quiet for a few seconds, followed by what sounds like a rap on the door, and more voices in the background. The captain's: I said I'll be out in five, and then a sigh. "Look, cut to the fucking chase. I don't have time for this shit. What did you do?" Because he assumes, and it's a reasonable assumption, that Joey's done something he shouldn't have.

Joey is reliable for having his shit together. he still does, he's just working for it. Shit, he did not plan the call this far. Calloused hand rubs his face weathering the reality of everything. The house is going to get found though now that he's thinking about it it could get torched. That's not off the table and in true disjointed fashion answers unhelpfully, "Had to convince some assholes to leave this dog alone." There's a pause. "They didn't listen." He lets Ruiz draw any and all conclusions on his own. He can't confess. He won't lie to the man either. "They left the state." The state of being present tense anyways. Hell he didn't know why he was telling him other than there's a mess that will eventually, not immediately, get called in likely. If this was the hell he was going on out maybe it's a need to have some integrity.

Silence on the other end of the line. Then a heavy-sounding sigh, and the soft, indistinct creak of a chair. "We shouldn't be having this conversation over the phone. Where are you right now?"

Joey doesn't answer for a moment. There's a murmur, "Doc's place. Animal rehab place on the street off Old Perch Rd. I don't remember what the fuck it's called." He looks on the front as he idly mills about there in the yard. He looks to Nicole and holds a finger of hold on a moment.

"Old Perch Road. Fine. I'll be there soon. Don't fucking move." Then the call's abruptly cut off. Soon could mean anything, but gauging by the distance from the precinct to where they are, it shouldn't be more than twenty minutes or so. Assuming he isn't delayed, of course.

When Joey takes Nicole's hand and gives it a smooch, Ruiz finally answering one of Joey's calls, she simply nods and lowers the handkerchief. She places a gentle smooch to his shoulder and walks back to the spigot to wash the kerchief off a bit and give Joey some space. Perhaps she needs some of her own as well. Now that the adrenaline rush is ebbing, her brain has too much time to analyze, think, overthink. Squatting by the spigot, she drapes the handkerchief over her knee after wringing it out and rinses her hands, lifting them after to press against her face, cooling the emotions that are starting to make her cheeks feel hot and tears threaten to spill from her eyes. She's not a cryer. Not usually. She is often an almost-cryer though, and this is one of those moments. There are a lot of unknowns for her still. She fears the worst, and the way Joey is acting, she might be right, but she doesn't know exactly what happened in that house. She doesn't know what will happen next. She does realize that as someone who saw the beginning of the fight, that guy getting slammed with a paint can, she's a witness. And she realizes that as the person who drove the dog and Joey away, she's an accomplice.

Lowering her hands, she looks over towards Joey, still crouched as she is. He lifts his hand, his finger telling her it will be a moment. Nodding, she rises up, walking back a bit towards where some of the animals are kept, where all she can see is them and the woods beyond. Her fingers loop onto the fence and she just stands there for a time, thinking, and praying that Gideon is able to help that dog. She might be a bit worried about what could happen if not.

Joey hangs up the phone and waits for the fuzz to show. He genuinely has no idea if de la Vega is coming alone or with a goon squad. There's a lot in his immediate future he's not thought through in his compulsions. He looks to the house and the side door. That urge to run into the house to press a gun to the doctor's head is not only irrational but it will absolutely make the matter worse and slow everything down. It's entirely illogical, and that there's this impulse ain't good for business.

He takes a deep breath and watches Nicole leaning on the fence, trying to find some balance in here. Lifting his hands, he pauses and then closes one over the other holding his phone. He stands fast. Somewhere wheels are eating pavement heading their way. In a few minutes many lives might change forever. He had no right to bring her into this, nor any right to keep her out either.

Hands fom fists and press to his forehead gatherin his thoughts. His phone slides into his pocket checking it again. He pauses and instead of walking to Nicole pulls the pistol out of the back of his belt and walks back over to his car to toss it under the driver's seat first. Last thing he needs right now is to be armed on approach. The door closes and boots take him back over to lean on the fence. "How you holdin up?" His eyes lift from her to the road keeping an ear out. He asks, "You still have my keys?" He waits for the confirmation and he quietly encourages, "Hang onto em."

The sound of the car door opening registers in Nicole's mind, breaking through her thoughts as she leans there. Turning her head to glance back, dark eyes watch Joey for a moment until he moves to close the door again. His lean beside hers has her tilting over, resting her head against his shoulder briefly. Meeting his gaze at the question, she thinks for a beat or two. Just how is she holding up? "I'm holding," is the answer that seems the most honest, and she says it with a soft voice. As he scans for the car, she studies his features, the blood she wasn't able to get all off yet, any bruising or cuts he may or may not have, the shape of his jawline, that stubble that casts it into shadows. Her gaze drifts along the line of his cheekbone slowly, as if imagining her fingertip tracing it gently. His words snap her out of that study of him and she nods, patting her jacket pocket. "I will," she says, then glances towards the house before looking up at him again. "Joey..." What is she supposed to say with the cop coming, alone, she hopes. "I'm here..." A reminder instead of asking how he is. Just that, a reminder, followed by her turning to kiss his shoulder. The air is heavy, the anxiety of not-knowing palpable. But she is here. Those words were simple, letting him know he is not alone, but said in a way that conveyed too that she is choosing to be here. He'd likely have to fight to try to keep her out now.

Twelve minutes later, the growl of eight cylinders' worth of police cruiser can be heard coming up the street. Small mercy: it's a single cruiser; no lights, no sirens. Spoken into his radio, "10-23 standby, stopping in for a wellness check at Old Perch, over."

The Charger swings in against the curb, until it's nose to nose with Joey's car, and the engine's left running while the cop enters something on the laptop mounted to his vehicle's centre console. That done, he checks his gun and climbs out. He's in uniform today, black on black with the GHPD logo and a set of captain's pins on his collar, rather than the off-the-rack suit he often sports while doing desk duty. His gaze slides over the other car as he approaches it, every inch of him cautious. Then he stops by the driver's side window, raps on it twice and waits.

Joey turns to see the charger pull up and takes a deep breath turning and resting his forehead to Nicole's for a moment, "I'm gonna get you out of this okay?" Deep breaths. Turning away from where they lean by the fence, his hand, bruised a bit, swollen slightly at the knuckles gives her shoulders a squeeze and then turns away.

He eyes up the cop, his frenemy, and tries to bury feral instincts that fight to surface. He has something to protect and he can't let that go, and he really doesn't know how else to fucking be. Still he called a favor and the man answered. This is not the time for skullduggery. "Hey." Boots crunch gravel and bottle green eyes flick to the house, and back to Ruiz. He looks like hell and didn't really clean up all that much. He swallows and asks with a gravelly rasp, "You, um, you go t time to talk man?"

Nicole closes her eyes as Joey rests his forehead to hers. She seems about to protest his words before he turns away and heads towards Ruiz. She lets out a sigh, leaning her rear against a fence post and watching the two men from there, her arms crossing over her chest. Every muscle in her body seems tense still, like she's made of a coiled spring about to jump out of her own skin. Too antsy to sit still any longer, she decides to head back towards the house, walking toward that side door to check on the Vet and the pup.

Ruiz turns at the sound of voices behind him, and squints a little at the pair. Then after a brief, parting glance over the vehicle, he pushes his hands into his jacket pockets, and ambles on over to where they're standing. The jacket has GRAY HARBOR POLICE emblazoned across the back, though he takes a moment to pop his radio's earpiece out and switch the thing off before he pulls up to the house. "I've got time," he replies, gaze on Joey. Then the blonde lurking nearby. He seems to recognise her, but doesn't address her for the time being. Instead, it's Kelly he continues to speak to. "You want to tell me again what's going on?"

Joey flashes fingers, palms out and hands open in front of his chest in silent indication that he's got nothing in his hands, but Christ almighty if his hands weren't enough when applied right. A slow walk meets him halfway. He hesitates looking Ruiz over and quietly, calmly, clarifies, "Anything I tell you ain't her fault okay?" Yeah it's one of those talks. "We were going through the neighborhood and we heard a noise. I mighta had to break into a house and we might have had to ...rescue a dog, alright?" Taking a deep breath his eyes close for a pause. As Nicole makes to check on the side door the "perfectly ordinary goose feather" (accept no substitutes) wafts out the door and does a bit of a dance on end. it catches the breeze and hits Ruiz in the pant leg, holds there, and takes off with the wind. Joey finally murmurs the rest, "I might kinda tried to break into this house to get them help." Which doesn't explain why he's looks like he got spat up by a street fight.

Once the others vacated his kitchen, Gideon set to work doing what he could for the poor animal. It's fortunate that he has the supplies to care for animals, considering his mini wildlife rehabilitation outbuilding on his property. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had what he needed. Even with proper supplies, there are a few dicey moments when he could have used a vet tech's skilled hands. But he makes do with what he has.
He's actually emerging as Nicole is entering. He stops, hands clean but shirt dappled with blood. "She's going to make it," he says. "She's in rough shape and we need to get her to the clinic to run tests and get her hydrated again. But I don't want to move her just yet."
Then he purses his lips. "What...happened? Should I be calling the police?"
Little does he know that the police are already here. Or at least police, in the singular.

Nicole looks to Ruiz, giving him a nod when his gaze lands on her, then continues on towards the house. She's reaching for the doorknob when Gideon opens it, coming out, and that feather wooshing out from the wind made by door and man, swirling there before catching on that breeze that takes it to Ruiz's pant leg. Stopping in her tracks, she looks at the blood on Gideon's shirt before her gaze lifts to his eyes. She has no idea what Joey is saying over there. Too scared to ask how the pup was, she just stares at him with hope.

Then the words come out. The pup is going to make it. The rest registers in her brain somewhere, but those are the words she focuses on. They are also the words that break through all her tension and composure, at least for a moment. Feeling a release of some of the fear, she almost starts to sob, the sound erupting from her as she crouches down before Gideon. Elbows resting on her knees, she covers her face with her hands, silencing that sob before it runs away from her. Still, her shoulders shake a bit as she works to regain her emotional balance. What happened? Should he call the police? She can't even answer those questions right now. Not that she would be sure how... "Oh God... thank you... thank you... "

Well, Gideon's going to be aware pretty soon, because as he opens up the door, the captain of the goddamned GHPD is standing there. His eyes flick briefly to a goose feather that clings to him briefly before it's brushed off. Then he steps to the side as the door swings open, and catches it in one hand to give the occupant and the interior of his house a once-over. His radio crackles, and is ignored. "Everything all right in there, sir? Are you hurt?" He's perfectly aware that Joey's gotten into a fight of some sort. And he isn't going to address it right now.

And then Nicole starts crying, and there's a little twinge in his jaw. She too is given a quick scan for signs of injury, but he doesn't try to approach or touch her.

Joey doesn't answer and instead hangs out exactly where he stops. The boxer's jaw stays claimed tight and lets GIdeon answer; attention swiveling that way and honing in on him. There is, for that very moment the bit of relief he's needed for a while. "Thank fuckin christ." The deep breath is uneven but fills that sigh. Okay, mischief managed. Now for damage mitigation. "Thanks and... sorry."

Gideon avoids as much of Nicole's eye contact as he can muster without being obvious about it. When she starts to cry, tension ticks up along his shoulders and his jaw. This is where he'd usually pass people over to the compassionate folks who work the front desk. He can console distraught pet owners - up to a point. He opens his mouth to say something else, but closes it when he sees Ruiz standing there. "I see you already have." Called the cops, that is.

He steps forward and lifts a hand. "I'm fine. It's the dog's blood. She's resting." Then he looks to Joey. "She needs to be moved to the clinic as soon as I'm sure the sedative has had time to take effect. She needs an IV and blood tests to make sure everything's okay."

It was the rush of relief that the dog was going to be okay that made Nicole momentarily emotional. In reality, only a few tears managed to escape, despite that sobbing shaking of her shoulders and the sound that emerged at the first moment of relief. Covering her face (no one is going to see her ugly cry) and taking a number of slow deep breaths help bring her back down. The dog is going to be okay, but there is still a lot to be addressed, a lot to be managed. Now she has to find out what sort of destruction will have to be repaired in the aftermath.

Rising up from the crouch, she stands, letting one hand fall to her side, the other waving in the air. "I'm okay.. sorry. Just. I am glad the dog is okay." Her voice is quiet. Nodding to Gideon she says, "I'll make sure she gets there as soon as you say I can move her. Thank you, again." And then she looks to Joey then right at Ruiz. The silent question drifts through her thoughts. Now what?

Joey is given a hard look by the cop, but he's still short on words for the pugilist. Most of de la Vega's attention is on Gideon at the moment, and Nicole to a slightly lesser degree. When the man confirms that the blood's not his, Ruiz nods slightly. Hand still on the door, dark eyes flicking over the interior of the house like he's trying to pick out whether there might be something more here than meets the eye. Finally, "You need some help getting the animal moved?" And to Joey, "Anyone else hurt as a result of your altruism, Kelly?" His radio crackles again, and the volume's turned down.

Joey kept one promise in his life and that's not to lie. Even when he went down for Felix for 3-5 he kept his mouth shut. His word's really all he has. That and a wicked left cross. When Ruiz asks him quietly if anyone else got hurt in his altruism? Well he doesn't lie about that either and the cold read off the boxer confirms as much. "No one that didn't cause the problem." The man is like trying to read though liquid lead but a few things stand out and there is that thing. That something maybe Joey's trying to tell him that he wanted him to know. He holds the Captain's gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment, keeping his voice from carrying, "I'm getting it taken care of. I dunno I just... felt you should hear it from me first if it comes up."

Gideon's words carry and Joey pauses, hand lifting to his face, thumb rubbing the bridge of his nose and he's the favor, "Can we just... keep Nicole out of any of it? Ain't her fault. I'm trying to make things right here." Right. It's a very broad definition of the word. Looking to GIdeon again he murmurs in gravel tone for the cop to hear, "I'll make it up to this guy. " Louder he says back to them, "That's... that's great news. Thank you." Two words he uses seldom, but means. While the stress doesn't fade the tension drops from his shoulders. "Can you help us get her moved?"

"It's best if I transport her to the clinic. I have a key. I can get her comfortable and call the emergency staff." Gideon motions to a mid-2000s station wagon parked in his drive. "I'll need someone to come by in the morning to fill out paperwork. And..." the vet nods to Ruiz, "Happy to give my statement. Such as it is." A smile flickers, flits away. The vet looks down and away. "You're...lucky I run a small animal refuge," He nods towards a small outbuilding, "... or I wouldn't have had what I needed to help her. There is an on-call number to call, that will reach one of us. For future reference."

If he registers that there might be more going on here than an injured dog they came upon, he's not letting on.

Looking over to where Ruiz and Joey are talking before she turns her attention to Gideon again, Nicole nods as she listens to him. "I can swing by, in the morning, that is. For the paperwork. Um, what kind of paperwork is it? I can pay, too... for your time, your supplies." He offers to give his statement to Ruiz if necessary and she nods, stepping back and slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The jangling of keys can be heard as her fingers nervously play with them. Suddenly, she pulls her phone out and starts texting.

(TXT to Lacey) Nicole: Hey, can you open tomorrow? I know I've been asking to switch a lot, just... something's come up. And before you ask, no, this time it is not a party.
(TXT to Nicole) Lacey: Ugh. yeah. sure. Any applicants for a new hairdresser? Would be nice if it weren't just me and you.
(TXT to Lacey) Nicole: Yeah... I am working on it. I know. Thank you so much. I owe you like, a mega bonus this year. <3 talk soon.

Before Lacey responds with anything else, Nicole slips the phone in her pocket and turns her attention back on Joey and Ruiz.

The veterinarian is eyed up and down a little longer, like Ruiz is maybe trying to suss out whether he's got a metaphorical gun to his head right now. Seeming satisfied that he doesn't, he glances at his watch and drifts a step back. "I'll let you get to it, then. Hope things work out with the dog." That much, he seems sincere about; there's a flicker of something in the brutish looking cop, and then it's gone. "Kelly." A sharp glance to the younger man. "We'll talk soon." There's a weight to those words. It's not a suggestion. Then he switches his radio back on, and turns to speak into it as he prowls off for his car. "Unit one three seven, 10-8.." The rest of it isn't audible.