bsumone | ❝ Nobody knows where you’re going ❞

"Oh no. The horror."

He patted the spot next to him on the couch. "Well until it's time to sleep we can share. There's plenty of room for that."

Especially when they were only going to talk and watch the TV.

He grinned and skipped over to flop on the couch. As much as he wanted to snuggle right up against Gabriel, he didn't. He made sure there was a respectable distance between them. Once the pizza arrives, he'd scoot over more so they could put the box between them.

"You stayin' in tonight, too?"

"Yes. There's nothing else I can do other than stare at files and try to have an idea come to me. I'm better off taking a break as well."

Sometimes inspiration could hit if he just stopped working for a moment. Maybe that would happen this time. He had no idea but it was worth trying at the very lease. He smiled as he relaxed back into the couch. "Can't always keep staring at something if your eyes are tired."

A single brow lifts and Dal's expression is mothering. "Might help if ya turn the lights on." Oh, he knew Gabriel's been keeping the room dim for his benefit, but he really needn't.

"I could see well enough. It's just hours of reading the same thing I've already read hundreds of times before." Such things would tire anyone's eyes out in the end. Especially if they felt like they were reaching a dead end because of it.

"That's fine, then," he said, as if he could actually stop Gabriel from reading in the dark. Or reading too much. Dal didn't know what that was like, but he has spent too much time pouring over his sketch pad in the past, so he got the idea of eye strain.

His expression softened, going thoughtful as he just... stared at Gabriel. It wasn't gazing or anything, it was flat-out staring.

"How old are you?"

"Me?" That was an unexpected question so he ended up asking as if there was another person in the room it could possibly be. When he recovered, he laughed softly at his own silly question. "I'm thirty-two."

"I've been wonderin'," he said as if to explain the sudden question. He didn't know what kind of training an FBI agent went through, but he figured he had to be at least 30 since he talked about working his way up. The difference didn't bother Dal in the least. And if it didn't bother Gabriel, all the better.

"Did you always wanna be a cop?"

"I did. I wanted to be someone who would have the influence to do good. And after I saw so many in law enforcement use their position to abuse their power I knew I wanted to be someone who didn't."

To give people some kind of hope that there was still good in the world. There was already so much pain and strife that it was the least he could do. After all, he'd seen the worst of life himself and knew how bad it could be.

If only he knew he’s achieved that in Dal’s eyes. And the local cops here? Dal knew a couple of them, uh, professionally. They weren’t his happiest relationships, to say the least.

“That prolly why the cops here don’t like ya. You’re actually tryin’ help.”

"They wouldn't like me to begin with just because they feel I'm invading their territory." It was ridiculous really. But, that was how it always went. Anytime the FBI had to step in for any reason it suddenly meant that the NYPD was pissed off for the entire investigation. Making things difficult when they didn't have to just to try and get some of the credit when that shouldn't be the focus.

"But, it's not my job to care if they like me. It's my job to put an end to the crimes of this killer so that's what I'll do."

"You're pretty close, huh?" Gabriel was so dedicated. Not for any fame or glory he may get, but to legitimately protect people who were complete strangers to him. Maybe if the local cops were less interested in their optics, they could actually do some real work, some real good. But they'd rather turn a blinded eye to someone out there murdering hookers. No humans involved, as they say.

Maybe Dal was just hopeful that things could go back to normal. Well, maybe not so normal for him. If things could actually work out with him and Gabriel... He'd welcome a different kind of life with this man.

"Very. I know I'm only a step away from ending all of this. I just need the permission to move forward." Which was the worst part about this job. Waiting on the paperwork and the permission to proceed. Especially when he had to work with departments that weren't part of the bureau. That was always the worst. "As soon as I have that I can press on. Unless some major comes up and then I'd be able to rush ahead faster. But I truly hope that doesn't happen."

He opened his mouth to say something when his phone buzzed again. Of course, it took him a moment to parse what the text said, but whatever it was made him frown. He shot back a quick reply, then actually shut the phone off. Dal definitely didn't want to deal with turning down dates intermittently throughout the night. He didn't even want to think about work or johns or sex or any of that tonight.

Turning his attention back to Gabriel, he offered an apologetic smile and a sigh. "You prolly don't wanna sit here and talk about work. 'm not really sure what to talk about, though. People don't usually spend time with me for my thrillin' conversation."

Gabriel knew what had happened before Dal looked back at him. Cellphones hadn't really been a thing back in Mexico but landlines had. And he'd always known that look on his mother's face. She didn't want to turn down money but she also wanted to spend time with him. He smiled at Dal in understanding then shook his head.

"It's alright, Dal. Honestly I'm glad I get to talk with you. I've been enjoying getting to know you and you get to know me too."

Ah, that made his chest feel tight and warm at the same time. Barely anyone's bothered to try getting to know him in the last eight years. Admittedly, he hasn't made much of an effort, either. Johns were... well, johns. Trying to get to know them on some personal level wasn't an option. Memorizing a little about their tastes? That was fine. The others on his block? Well, they'd talk, but all of them were reticent to get too close to someone who could be seen as a competitor.

Dal leaned on the arm of the couch, curiosity filling his eyes as he gazed at Gabriel. If he had to guess, he'd say Gabriel was a reader, definitely family-oriented. He could imagine him in house with a nice little lawn and a fence. Maybe even in a garden with his mom. Gabriel could probably cook, too.

All these ideas floated through Dal's mind, bringing a fond smile to his lips.

"Whaddya do when you're not workin'?"

"Let's see..."

The TV was still going on in the background but he wasn't paying it any mind at this point. It was just noise. Instead, he thought about his hobbies a bit. Things he liked to do when he was just relaxing. When he wasn't buried deep in a case.

"I like to read. Usually fantasy books actually. Something so out of my reality I can escape for awhile. I also like to go for runs right when it's sunrise or sunset and all the colors are up in the sky. Sometimes I take my mother to museums to show her things or I go find somewhere in the city I've never been before and just walk around."

Gabriel had a feeling that he wasn't really that exciting a person in reality outside his job but he truly didn't mind that. "I'm a big fan of the classic jigsaw puzzle," he said with a bit of a grin.

That all sounded pretty wonderful to Dal. He wasn't looking for excitement. Some might think his life was exciting; he thought it was anything but. His big dream was to have a little house with a little yard and enough money to pay someone to mow that little lawn for him. A modest closet with more than four outfits and one pair of shoes.

He melted a little over the arm of the couch, picturing Gabriel sitting at the kitchen table with puzzle pieces strewn all over it,

"That sounds really nice," he sighed.

He laughed softly at that. Not many people he knew would say that sounded nice. Most liked to tease him for how boring he was. But honestly that was all he wanted. He wanted to be boring since he got far too much excitement and stress from his job. A stress he wanted, of course, but a stress all the same.

"A shame I don't have a puzzle here. I could show you how good I am at them," he declared with another little laugh. "How about you? What do you like to do for fun when you have the chance?"

He knew those chances were slim given the life Dal had to lead. But that didn't mean they couldn't exist at all.

"You can show me eventually," he encouraged. He hoped. Gabriel still had to catch the killer and then they'd have to wait for the court case to conclude. It could be a while, but Dal didn't mind waiting. If Gabriel was willing to wait for someone like him... At least they could still get to know each other between now and then.

His lashes hooded his eyes and a little color came to his cheeks. "I like to draw."

"Oh? What do you like to draw?" The makings of a potential artist here. That could be a job for Dal to look into one day if he really wanted to stop what he was doing. Food for thought for another time when this case wasn't hanging over their heads.

"People, mostly." He has a whole notebook full of them, from people he sees on the block, the other sex workers, johns (who would hate to know he's that good at remembering faces) to the kind older lady who sneaks him leftovers and the people who work in the restaurant below him. Gabriel may even be in there. More than once.

"I got interested in it when I was still little." And now it's his escape from his life.

"If you ever feel comfortable with it I would love to look at your drawings."

But, he knew sometimes that could be a very private thing for people so he wouldn't pry. Just let him know that the interest was there but that it would be on his terms. That was the right way to go about it really. "What draws you to wanting to draw people?"

That was a more complicated question than Gabriel may have realized when he posed it. Dal's expression was thoughtful. Not because he had to actually think about the answer, but more that had to find the right English words for it.

"I'm a ghost," he began. That, he firmly believed. No ID, no friends, no one who would ever miss him if he just stopped showing up on his corner or never came back to his room. "I dunno a lot about the people I see, but I want 'em to be remembered."

Gabriel observed him for a time as he thought about that answer. It made sense with the life that Dal was living now. It made sense with why he felt the way he did. Yet there was something sad about it. Something not very true anymore either.

"You're not a ghost anymore, Dal. That I promise."

Because he mattered to him. Even after this case.

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