❝ ISN'T IT TRAGIC? ❞
In which Gemma Moretti, a hard-working bounty hunter, clashes with Los Angeles' most hot-blooded defense attorney.
[LUCIFER PRE-SEASON 1]
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GEMMA HATED BEING CALLED A CREATURE OF HABIT, but when it came to her job, she had a very specific pattern she followed each case, mostly due to the fact that it usually worked well in her favor. Sometimes she sought a challenge, but this time, she wasn't going to start freestyling – of course, she wanted to do her job efficiently, but she also needed to impress Charlotte, and for that, she was going to go about the case the way she usually did. She was playing it safe and praying that it would work out for her.
The first step was going to the man's – Peter Montague's – workplace, and that was indeed how Gemma found herself at one of those accounting firms she had sworn she would never end up in. It was all very proper and suit-and-tie, and she hated the idea of that more than anything – even if today she was blending in rather well with the pantsuit Santiago had made fun of. Nonetheless, she carried a swagger that the graying men around her didn't, and her stride down the hall towards Peter Montague's office turned many heads.
Much to her disappointment, the office was empty, and Gemma had to kiss her dream of ending the case right here and right now, a bitter goodbye. Sighing and lifting her hands to her hips, she looked around, just in time to see a tall, blue-suited man making his way over to her.
"Looking for Peter?" the guy queried knowingly, and with a relieved sigh, Gemma nodded. "Yeah, so are we. He hasn't been to work in days", he added, forcing a scoff out of Gemma as she rolled her eyes. Of course, this wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped for.
"Where does he usually spend his time? Any favorite bars, something like that? Or even better, do you have his home address?" Gemma questioned, narrowing his eyes at the bearded man in front of her. She had done this enough times to know where to start, and surely, one of her usual leads would pay off.
"Yeah, uh, there's a sports bar around the corner. We've had a few drinks after work there. And his address... you got a number I could text you with the info?" he explained, more helpful than people usually were, and surprised by the kindness, Gemma nodded and grabbed her notepad from her pocket before scribbling down her digits.
"Thanks for the help", she flashed half a smile at the man before turning on her heel and heading back out, her next destination being the sports bar he had mentioned. It wouldn't be the first nor the last time she found a perp drinking their troubles away, and a part of her was almost hoping he'd put up a fight – give her a reason to knock him around the way he knocked his wife around. Allegedly, of course.
Sadly, Montague was nowhere to be seen, only other drunk patrons yelling at the TV in a way that had Gemma grimacing, suddenly glad to get out of the bar as quickly as possible. Just like that, her final option was the man's house, the one he shared with his unfortunate wife. The uncertainty of what she would find had Gemma gnawing on the nail of her thumb while her other hand sat on the steering wheel of her old piece of a junk of a Toyota, but she tried to prepare for anything and everything. Sometimes defending herself in a physical sense was just part of the job description – as much was obvious from the bruise on her right eye.
