tampered | Log: Completed

Abby isn't sure what Gren looks like. She had forgotten that part when she'd talked to him about lunch. But she isn't really worried about that. He's sure to be here. At least, she's convinced herself of that.

Looking around, she sees someone with his face turned to the sun. Well, that could be him. Or it could be someone else. Only way to find out is to ask.

She walks over with smile and tilts her head to the side. "You're Gren right? Because if you aren't I'll go ahead and leave you alone. But I'm supposed to meet him here."

"Hmm." Shielding his eyes from the light, he looks up at her. "Gren. Let's see. I think I've heard that name somewhere before." From this vantage point she looks tall and when he stands, he sees he's right about that. He's still taller, though; that's something he's used to. "You must be Abby."

Today, he can touch; he extends his hand to her. "I'm Gren, and I have to ask you if you're in the habit of being a lifeline to strangers. Because I really needed that last night."

Life, he knows, is too short and precious to waste time. Even if the whole concept of alive doesn't really apply to him here, he's not sold on being dead despite what Julia told him and despite what he remembers from the moments before he got to the City for the first time. Anyway, what does it matter? He's here and breathing and walking around and sentient, as far as he can tell, and the big philosophical questions on the nature of life and death and life after death will have to wait till another day. Right now he has to figure out what he's going to do with a woman -- a stranger at that -- for the duration of lunch.

It's not exactly how he normally spends his time.

She takes his hand hand and gives it a good shake. "A lifeline to strangers? Well, someone else did mention that to me before but no."

She smiles in an oblivious manner. Truthfully, she's smarter and more observant that she appears but she's just happy to have been a help last night. "I guess it's a good thing I accidentally hacked you then." Without a break in between she immediately continued. "Does the cafe work for you? They have good food there. Jack took me to the place when I first arrived here. Usually I have lunch at the hub but I do go there sometimes."

Having lunch with people isn't something she normally gets to do very often in her world. On a normal day she's down in her lab and away from people. Except for Gibbs and the others coming to visit her. All of this free time is strange.

"The cafe's perfect." He was there once with Faye. That was before he had the job at Lux; he watched her drink coffee and tap her fingernails on the table's surface. As they move off in that direction -- she has a good, firm handshake -- he allows himself just one moment of feeling so out of practice at this.

But just one. And then all those years spent working in bars and making small talk pile back in with a vengeance: he can keep up a conversation with anybody about almost anything. The whole getting-to-know-you dance isn't something he's spent much time on the past three years, but he remembers how it goes well enough.

"So two quick questions. First, have you been here long? And second, what do you do here?" It's pretty obvious she's better at hacking into the system than he is. If she's really good at it, he might have a few more technical questions for her.

Not yet, though. First things first.

"Let's see..." Her face switches to a determined thinking one. How long had she been here? Last month was when she arrived. And that was before the mirror thing since she'd helped Jack with that.

"About a month and a half." A nod of confirmation then she continues to the next question. "And I'm a Forensic Specialist."

One of the best too. She usually doesn't bring that up right away though. Even if it is a true fact.

She looks ahead of them as she explains. "For the police force here anyways. At home I focus on military crimes with NCIS. I'm not military though. Just civilian."

Isn't that all sorts of ironic. It's a good thing there's no bounty on his head here, and in any conversation with her he'll just omit the small detail of having been in military prison because... it was for a crime he didn't commit. Doesn't everyone make that claim? Just about everyone he met -- what a pleasant way of putting it -- in prison claimed they were innocent.

"We've been here about the same amount of time." That's a little bit of a neat coincidence. "So is there a lot of work for a forensics expert around here?" He actually has no idea: he's been pretty happily oblivious about the inner workings of the city so far and he really doesn't mind staying that way. Back on Callisto, where he was wanted by the ISSP, he had to keep careful track of that kind of stuff. Blue Crow was a haven for bounties, but it could have changed at any minute. And if the economics of the planet were already bad, it would have gotten so much worse if everyone featured on Big Shot suddenly had to scatter for other parts of the solar system.

Of course, it's all a little irrelevant now.

"There is for me. I work in the forensics department." She looks around and smiles at the people that walk by them. She hasn't got a clue who they are but she is a people person. And her smile grows when she gets a smile back or a wave. The City is great for its variety of people. That's one of the things she has come to love about it. True the curses weren't great but they really weren't so bad in the end.

She pauses for a moment. "I'm not the one who makes arrests though. I just analyze evidence brought to me. Fragments...DNA...fingerprints...things like that. Sometimes blood splatters too. Depends on what I need to help solve."

Her stops in front of the cafe and looks around. "Inside or outside?"

"I'm a big fan of the sunshine." There's no apology whatsoever in his shrug; he leads her to a likely unoccupied table where they can both take advantage of a little sun and a little shade.

When they're outside, he can keep an eye on the streets. There's nothing like having a person follow you to make you a little jumpy, but multiply it by two and it just becomes such a weird turn of events. He's not even sure if the second one is really true or not... but he knows Vicious is -- or was -- keeping tabs on him. He's not sure why unless maybe it's some twisted retribution for losing his man. That would make sense.

But Vicious doesn't make sense and never has, and he's also not here now. He hands Abby a menu, takes his own, but doesn't even glance at it yet. "I don't want to make too many assumptions, but it seems like this place has an old comfortable feel to it for you." It's in her casual demeanor, in the friendly way she smiles and waves to people. He's sociable, but he's not that outgoing. "Did you just find yourself here one day?"

It wouldn't be entirely surprising. Not everyone here is dead like him and Julia. Lin. Vicious. Luke. Who's he missing?

She nods as she looks over the menu. Maybe a sandwich. That would be good. A cold one though. Not a hot one. "I walked out of the elevator at NCIS to find myself here. Jack came and got me to bring me back to the hub where the others live. The hub is really just three apartments with the walls torn down between them to make it one big place."

Looking up she is still smiling. "I just felt like smiling to the people. At home, I'm usually in my lab so I don't get to see a lot of others. Unless I'm dating. Then on my days off I see more." She shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world to think about.

She looks down at the menu again at picks something. And water here. This place didn't serve Caf-Pow!. Though, maybe she could suggest it sometime. Reki liked it for one.

"I don't really know any of those people. But it was nice to see them."

He knows how that goes: whenever he works, it's nice to look out and see people and it doesn't matter if he knows them or if they're perfect strangers: they all deserve every consideration.

"I might have seen some of them at the club where I work, but a lot of people come and go there." It's a lucky thing he wasn't scheduled to work last night, although his arrangement with Ishiah had a big curses accounted for rider tacked onto it: he's known his boss to be affected by curses too and he's glad it's random and impersonal. Still, he hopes it never, ever happens to him again.

After Abby makes her selection he orders himself a sandwich and a cup of tea. Iced, because they're in the sun and there was no such beast as iced tea on Callisto and so it will be a luxury. And it's also time to get one or two things out in the open. "I'm glad you're here with me today, because I was a little crazy last night. I should have told you when we agreed to this that I don't... consider it a date or anything; women aren't my style. But I really want to treat you to lunch this afternoon. It's the least I can do repay your kindness."

She blinks several times then laughs and she shakes her head. "I didn't think this was a date at all! And really, you don't have to repay me. I like talking with you. Even if this only the second time we've talked."

She leans forward, curiosity written all over her face. Club where he works. That's what he'd said.

"Which club do you work at? And what do you do there?" He seems to be a calm person. And it doesn't bother her at all that women aren't his style. He definitely isn't the first person she's met who's like that. It does make her curious about something else though. And she decides to go ahead and ask about that too. "Is there a guy you have your eye on?"

Abby's laughter is so refreshing that it's contagious; it feels good to smile again, especially after yesterday.

"No, no, I don't have my eye on anybody." Really, men aren't his style either, but that's all self-imposed anyway and it's his own business alone. "I work at Lux, do you know it? The club with the striped awning in front? I'm a musician: tenor sax. I'm in Blue's house band there, and I play solo jazz sets on Saturday nights."

And no matter what, he's chivalrous enough -- and still man enough -- to pay for lunch.

"Tenor sax." She thinks for a moment then her eyes widen. She's seen him before and didn't know it! "You're in Blue's band? I've seen you preform then! Once. Because Blue said he'd like it if I came and listened to him."

Her smile stays in place as she nods. "I haven't been there on Saturday's though. I will this Saturday to see you play. You are going to, right? I mean, it would be kinda bad to go and not see you there."

Jazz is actually not her preferred style of music but she didn't mind it. Besides, she had friends...because she already considered Gren one too...who played it. So why not go listen some times?

"Unless there's a really bad curse." It's the only thing he can think of that could keep him from being there... and he'd probably tough his way through a curse just to play. With a smile, he nods to her: she doesn't strike him -- by way of her dress -- as a jazz fan, but he's been surprised by people before and tries not to take anyone for granted based on appearance. No, he's been on the receiving end of enough of that himself; he tries not to pre-judge but he's no saint and fails as often as he succeeds.

The line of thought's interrupted by the arrival of their food and he's suddenly pretty hungry. Faye's not as bad a cook as he feared -- it's hard to ruin pasta -- but he barely remembers eating last night. That curse was terrible. The iced tea looks like a million woolongs to him and he squeezes lemon into it and takes a sip, savors it. "I was born and grew up on Mars, and this was one of my favorite drinks. The past few years -- the place I've been living -- it was impossible to get. It's really nice to have it again. But yeah, to get back to music, I'll be there. I don't think there's a whole lot that could keep me away."

Short of being killed all over again, that is.

"You grew up on Mars?" No one in her timeline did. At least they didn't yet. They were planning on it. And things were in the works. Still, no one is at the present time. So, it's something new for her that he did. They served iced tea there too. This is the first time she's met someone from the future.

She takes a sip of her water wishing it was her favorite soda. That tastes much better. And it had the caffeine she wants. However, she does need to sleep tonight since she hasn't slept the past two nights. She didn't need a third night added to that. Tony would be upset with her if that happened. Jack, Ianto, and Tosh too. Well, lots of people here would be upset with here. Maybe Christian as well. She didn't know him well enough yet to know.

"What's it like there?"

People seem to like to ask him that, about Mars. They did on Callisto too; he gives her the standard answer, but tailored to right now. "Mars is just like here, but with an artificial atmosphere and no clock." It really is: there's nothing inherently special about the place itself. "And two moons in the sky, and red dirt. But it was settled by people from Earth, so as far as I know, they tried to make it as familiar as possible." Some of the towns and cities are named after local landmarks and some are named after famous Earth residents, and others have completely ridiculous names. "And that style spread to all the other colonized planets and moons. There are pockets of Earth-based civilizations everywhere. Before I got here I was living on Callisto -- one of Jupiter's moons -- and that's pretty different from Mars."

They say Mars is for the rich. He's always felt privileged that his family had money when he lived there and he really doesn't think it turned him into a spoiled brat. At any rate, he was able to survive on Callisto on next to nothing, so he must have learned a few things about getting along in life.

He helps himself to a bite of sandwich, thinking it's much better to be sitting here eating than it is to be sitting here watching someone else eat. Pride: it wouldn't allow him to let Faye buy him anything that night. It's a stubborn and curious thing, pride. He was newly dead, new to being here, hungry, and so grateful to see a familiar face.

She helps herself to her sandwich as she listens. Just like here hm...only no clock. Not that she ever really noticed it anyways. Apparently being around people did that along with music. Since she always seemed to have both the clock was the last thing on her mind.

"Have you always done music?" This is her next question after he's finished telling her about Mars. And saying that was living on Callisto. What she really wants to hear is him telling her about something he seems to love so much. Like Tony and his movies. Besides, it helps her to get to know him better. He's already really interesting too. She'd have to keep talking with him in the future.

Continuing to eat, she watches him. He's really very nice. And easy to get along with. She's always liked that about people. Though, not everyone has both traits.

Her interest is so sweet and touching; it's not the kind of attention he's used to. Swallowing back a bite of food, he nods. "I started out on piano when I was three or four -- not very well, of course -- but a friend of my mom's showed up with a saxophone when I was eight and that was the end of the piano for me. I mean, I still play it or would if I had one here, but..."

Seeing that sax was like finding unexpected true love.

"Of course, I was terrible with it at first. But I got better. Started out on alto and graduated to tenor about five years later. It takes a different kind of lung capacity and..." He stops himself, shakes his head. "It's pretty much the great love of my life, music. I could talk about it for days."

Yep. She's right. He's a music lover. A passionate one. That isn't something many can claim. But Blue is like that too. It's like they breath in the music and survive on it. It reminds her so much of her own job. She really just can't picture doing anything else.

"I don't mind you going on about it like that. I like listening to you talk about the sax and music. Because you so obviously love it even before telling me you do." She takes a drink of water. "That's really nice. It's like the stories you here about great musicians who can describe music in a way no one else can. I like that."

She smiles at him and takes another bite. The sandwich is pretty good. It's something new compared to what she usually gets.

He's no great musician and he knows it, but he appreciates the sentiment: Abby's sweet. It would have been so easy to make assumptions about her based on looks alone; he's glad he met her over the network first or they wouldn't be spending this time together. There's a little bit of companionable silence while they both enjoy their meals -- he hasn't done a lot of dining out here because eating alone is eating alone whether one's in his own apartment or at a restaurant -- and when he's done, he pats each corner of his lips with the napkin. "And look, I'm such a career musician that I stole the spotlight. We were talking about forensics and I have to admit I don't know a whole lot about that. How did you get involved with that?"

It doesn't seem like much of a girl sort of occupation, but he really has no idea. Just because women have tended to show him more kindness than men for a large part of his life doesn't mean he really knows very much about them at all.

"It always seemed interesting. So, I went Louisiana State University to triple major in sociology, criminology and psychology. Then I went on to Georgia State University to major in criminology and forensics. Later, NCIS hired me. I guess I just really like the field. No. That's not quite right. I love the field." She stops for a moment trying to keep her words straight. She didn't want to confuse him or anything. Not about this. "Forensics is different from other lines of work. You have to understand how things happened to solve the crime. It's a series of puzzles before you. Who does the fingerprint belong to? Who was the murder? That kind of thing."

Another pause as she drinks more of her water. "You have to be one of the best to be hired by the military as a civilian. And I am. There are only a few people in the world who can commit a crime and leave absolutely no forensic evidence behind. I'm one of them. Of course, I would never actually commit a crime where that was necessary but I can do it."

The further she gets into it, the more her hands get involved. Like she's trying to have him picture everything and is trying to show him.

There's no one he's reminded of more when she weaves her story than an artist friend of his mother's, a sculptor. She couldn't talk without her hands and he knows that's common to so many artists, but he never really moved beyond that stereotype in his time at home to include other professionals in it, really.

It's fascinating.

"You love what you do as much as I love what I do. That's a pretty neat coincidence." He nods a refill on his iced tea. "I saw a show once on a forensic sculptor who literally rebuilt faces so the ISSP -- that's what we call the police force where I'm from -- would have a visual on the victims. It was really pretty amazing."

He wouldn't have the patience for it -- he isn't the one who loves poring over puzzles for endless hours -- but he can see how intriguing it could be to the right person.

"So if I ever need to commit the perfect crime, I know who to come to for help." But he laughs -- of course he's just joking; his criminal days are over if they were even there to begin with -- and digs in his pocket for the right number and color of coins to cover their bill when it comes up. He won't be taking no for an answer on that one.

She perks up at his comment. It's true. Her work is like a religion to her and she makes sure not to make mistakes on it. Not when it means so much. Careless things like that can be left to others.

"A forensic sculptor huh? I usually use a computer. I even updated the latest program out so I can have better pictures. Once, I hypnotized someone in order to get an image from a memory he had. But I have made sculptures of things before."

Her eyes suddenly blink as if she finally caught up with what else he'd said. Then she laughs since she can see he's joking. She hopes he's joking. He had better be joking. No...she decides then and there that it's definitely a joke.

"You know, committing the perfect crime is almost impossible. There are so many variables to look out for. Like splatters of anything can tell you what happened or what kind of a weapon was used."

"I was teasing," he adds hastily. "I don't want to commit any crimes." Well, that might not be entirely true: there's still the little matter of retribution against the guy who killed him, but at the moment he doesn't really want to do anything about that. He and Vicious seem to be at some sort of uneasy impasse, and he's already acted rashly more than once and doesn't need to do it again. "The sculptor on the show had a computer too, but she said she preferred to feel her way through. With assistance, of course, but she did the bulk of the work by hand."

He's a very tactile person himself; lots of musicians are. He gestures to the plates on the table. "Last night, I couldn't have imagined I'd feel so normal today. I'm really not a big fan of the curses, but that was the worst I've been hit. I think I really need to learn how to make things more unhackable. I never had to bother before this place."

This lunch really has been an unexpected pleasure. "But then if I had, I wouldn't have met you. And that would have been really sad."

She just smiles at him and nods in agreement. It's true after all. And that's something she's really very happy about. It meant getting to meet a new person. Though, maybe she wouldn't tell Tony about this new friend of hers. She has a funny feeling that he's keeping a watch on her other friends that she'd told him about.

"See? It wasn't all so bad. Well, it was but it came out okay in the end. That's saying something." She is still talking with her hands. The excitement hasn't really left her and she's just tired enough to not really notice it. "But I'm glad you don't want to commit any crimes. Really. You know, you're too nice of a person for that."

Her eyes catch sight of her hands and she looks at them like she's baffled as to how they got up there. But she doesn't put them down. Instead she just shrugs and starts talking again. "You know something else, Gren? I like you. Not in the whole having feelings for you or anything like that. I mean, you're not into women...which I don't mind at all by the way...but I just thought you should know. People like knowing when others like them after all."

Abby's just... adorable. Maybe she thinks he's a little bit nicer than he really is, but that's okay: he'd rather be mistaken for one of the good guys. Nine (well, maybe eight) out of ten times, that's the side he's on anyway.

He knows he's not perfect. He also knows he likes women just fine, but if it keeps people a little at bay to tell them women aren't his style, he'll keep doing it. There's one woman in this city he's extremely close to on a platonic level, and another he'd like to know better. That tally is two more than he's had the past three years when neither of them were around, and it feels like more than enough. He's not looking for a lot more friends and he's certainly not looking for love.

No, he has his music if he wants pure love.

Still, Abby's refreshing honesty makes him smile. "Thanks, Abby. I like you a lot. You're... a deceptively passionate woman and that's really attractive." He doesn't mean it in any sort of sexual way; he just likes the way she is. She seems very at home with herself. "So we should do this again sometime. Or at least come by the club and hang out for a while."

Women are just easier for him now. He hasn't met that many men here, but a lot of the ones he has met have made him pretty suspicious. He's not just some pretty face for them to... seduce.

She takes Gren's words exactly how he means them. But, it's a pity women aren't his style because he knows just the right words to make one really happy. Then again, he could find one someday. One really never knew with this kind of thing.

"Thank you. And yes. We really should this again. But I'll make sure to come to the club on Saturday. That way I can hear you play. I'm looking forward to it. Just need to make sure I tell someone. People seem to worry about me here more than they did at home. Or I could just be noticing it more now."

She seems sad for a moment as memories of the Director come to her. Really, she's noticing things like this more since her breakdown. That she has friends who really care about her. She's always known they did but...Why did a death make you appreciate things more? The sadness vanishes as she covers it up with a smile since she's really just fine.

"I'll make sure to get a good seat when I get there. I wouldn't want someone to block me or anything like that."

Wow. He hasn't met someone this cute in a long time. It isn't that his revelation was made too soon -- right now, he's so far from even wanting to think about that kind of thing -- but it does make him wonder if some day, he'll be ready to leave a little leeway. If and when that happens, it sure won't be any time soon.

As he stands and sets the money down on the table, he's still smiling. "I'll reserve a table for you. You want to sit up front?" Sure, there are perks that go along with working at the place. Personally, he can't see why anyone would really pay to get in to hear him play. It's not a question of low self-esteem -- he knows he's good -- but he would literally play on request, on the street corner, for nothing. "I'll just warn you: if you sit too close, you might get sick of me really fast."

That makes him laugh, though, and he moves to the other side of the table to help pull out Abby's chair. Women might not be his style, but politeness is and almost always has been.

Well, she isn't really used to such politeness but she definitely likes it. It's something new. And he's offering to get a table for her up front too. That would make things easier for her.

"Really? Thank you, Gren! But I won't get sick of you. At least, I don't think I will. Maybe I'll become a fan of yours." She stands and is grinning now. He has a nice laugh. A nice smile too.

She ignores the money on the table. Even she knows when she won't win a fight if one gets started. Besides, she can always try to pay the next time. Or try to anyways. She's stubborn but sometimes there is just no winning things like that. No matter what.

"What time do you go on?"

"Saturdays? I usually get started by nine. Sometimes a little earlier, sometimes a little later. But around then."

If things were always this easy, life would be a whole lot simpler. They're not, but he'll take them where he can get them. "Bring friends, too." Just so that's perfectly clear. "And I'll look for you. Now do you want me to walk you back to the fountain or anywhere else from here?"

"You're such a gentleman, Gren. Not a lot of guys are like that. I like that about you." She glances inside the cafe at the clock. She still has time before she needs to meet Christian. In fact, he's probably still wandering around with his look-alike.

"Let's walk back to the fountain. Then I can wait for Christian there. Oh, and I'll try to bring my roommates with me. Maybe I can get Tony to come. I guess I should ask him. But I think I can at least get Christian and possibly Ianto to go."

"Perfect." So few things in life really are, but it's a good word to use every once in a while.

Also perfect is the fact that this whole time, there hasn't been any visible sign of Vicious, and that's a relief. As they walk, he offers Abby his arm and doesn't mean anything by it. These days, he's not a very touchy-feely guy -- he won't hug just anybody, for instance -- although he used to be a lot less cautious. In a way, this is a test for him: has that curse from yesterday really worn off?

At the very least, he's being... chivalrous. And she does have him pegged as a gentleman and whether or not that's true, it makes him smile. Abby's good company.

She takes his offered arm with a laugh. "You know, not a lot of guys are like this. Most just let a girl or a woman...or whatever she wants to be called handle things on her own. I mean, I can take care of myself all of that but this is definitely different."

A smile flashes at him. "It's fun." She isn't used to describing something so simplistically but it works. This is just that. Fun.

Then she studies him for a couple moments. "You should smile more, Gren. You have a really nice smile. It's kind of, I don't know...gentle. Not quite but the word works."

Now he's going to get shy, and he hasn't been shy since he was sixteen or seventeen or so. He knows he's pretty -- just ask anyone back on Pluto (no thanks, really) -- but he's only used to being reminded of it in oblique and less flattering ways. Being stalked or stared at, maybe, or reminded he's... what was Greed's word? adorable? but he doesn't feel remotely adorable. No: he feels...

...dead.

Usually.

"Look, we could be our own little mutual admiration society here. But you'd better stop before my ego gets overinflated." Of course, that makes him smile even more; he pats her hand as they get closer to the fountain.

And he realizes then he's all right: that curse doesn't seem to have had the lasting damage he feared yesterday. It could be that it'll sneak back up on him when he least expects it, but at least now -- here, in public, with people -- he's okay.

"All right. I'll try to remember to smile more. But don't expect it Saturday: it's a little hard to smile and still coax the sweet notes out of a saxophone."

"Right. No smiling while you're playing the sax." She gives him a nod of confirmation like it's a serious thing. Well, maybe it is. Somewhat. "And I don't know about a mutual admiration society. The name sounds fun though."

She notices the fountain and frowns at it. She is enjoying this and the fountain means it's basically done. There is Saturday though. And talking to him more often. She intends to make sure she does more of that. "I know! You could smile before and after pieces!"

This time she looks up at him with a bright look. To her the idea is brilliant. And then people will get to see him smile. She could even show the others that she is thinking of bringing what it looks like. "Then you don't have to worry about smiling while playing."

Now he laughs out loud as he takes a step back from her. "You make it sound like I never smile. I do. You'll see." Meeting under that curse was far from an ideal circumstance, but it hasn't really hindered anything. He wouldn't have even met her if it wasn't for the stupid curse and his even more stupid ineptitude at keeping private network things private.

"And thanks for taking the time to have lunch with me. I'll see you at the club on Saturday night."

He's still amused as he starts to move away. And he makes it all of about five paces away before he turns and looks back and gives her a little wave.

And then he is on his way: he's working tonight and has to get ready. But he's already feeling so much better than he did twenty-four hours ago... and looking forward to Saturday.

"You're welcome, Gren! See you then." She waves at him when he turns. He's not the only one looking forward to Saturday and she's already deciding how to convince people to come with her.

And she goes over to sit on the edge of the fountain to wait for Christian...

[ooc: The End~ *squeals from loving the thread~*]

Log: Completed

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