Welcome to Gaia! ::

As chance would have it, it was the less familiar of the two new residents who opened the door. Looking like a living thinkpiece on the word 'dishevelment,' Julian blinked at him with the kind of begrudgingly-present expression Jeremiah had likely seen on scores of unruly teenagers, if not more familiar faces like Zac or Wil. That inaccessible expression, of course, was a bulkhead against the usual tidal wave of social anxiety that came whenever he encountered an unfamiliar person, who almost invariably was also an attractive person -- and this was, most frustratingly, especially the case in Ashdown.

"Um," he started flatly. "Hello. Who are you here for?"

The handshake was brief and very awkward, but it felt like an eternity up until the point at which it became awkward. At this point, Leila had come around from another room to see the two at either side of the doorway, and before acknowledging Jeremiah she'd put her hand on Julian's shoulder and told him, at a low tone: "Calm down, Fitzpatrick, he's married."

She took it upon herself to wave Jeremiah into the house and find him a chair while Julian attempted to gather his bearings outside.

"So, Jer," she said, eyeing his glinting smile with interest. "Did you really just call us lovebirds? I haven't heard that one since... since our wedding. What happened, did you win -- wait, s**t. There's something you need to..." Leila squinted, like the sun was in her eyes. "...unplug. Washing machine? Or something in that room."

"After the..." Leila gritted her teeth while searching for words. Ballroom blitz? No, that was too frivolous. Murder party? Apt, but also silly. "Sacrificial ball? You're feeling better? Uh, sure." She could barely imagine what could possibly put him in a better mood after watching his husband play a crucial role in a girl's throat getting sliced open in front of them all. After a couple seconds of entertaining the possibilities, she decided it was definitely none of her business.

Julian was back around to answer Jeremiah himself. "Yes. I'm Julian," he clarified, as in all the handshaking he'd failed to actually mention his name, and christ that was bad. he totally noticed that.

"Right... that means you're the cop."

He didn't really like the police as an institution. Did Jeremiah notice that too? Even though he hadn't actually said it aloud. It could have come across in the way he'd said 'cop' instead of 'detective.' Why didn't he just use the word detective?

Julian continued to struggle at holding some semblance of a conversation with the tragically married older man. He was starting to blush, and considering the detective was turning out to be one of those Nothing Gets Past This Guy sort of guys, it was almost a guarantee he would notice that too. "I'm guessing you were just at her shop earlier," he decided to guess while the topic stayed on Eve. It was the least embarrassing way to point out that Jeremiah smelled pleasantly like he'd been rolling around in bombay chai his entire life. "But I can still put on some tea." It would give everyone something to do with their hands, except Leila. It was also an easy escape so he could cool off for a moment.

He squinted at the gifts as Leila led Jeremiah to the living room so he could set them all down on the coffee table and have a seat.

"Is that a jello mold?"

Leila gave another baffled look at the detective and, looking up at him after setting down one of the gifts, repeated, "A cuppa. Really." He usually wasn't that unabashedly British. There had barely even been a visible uptick in his demeanor when he'd finally gone off and gotten married to that bookstore owner. Once again, she couldn't possibly fathom (without her mind wandering into the forbidden lemon orchard) what could be putting him in such a -- dare she even think it? Dare you even read it? -- playful mood.

It was a hell of a performatively rhetorical question, but Julian managed to play his part and shrug in reply. He also decided not to bring up the fact he liked jello. That brief and accidental exchange of banter had turned that fact into a dark and shameful secret, leaving him to keep his distance and steal furtive glances at it while getting to work on the tea.

"Okay, you know what?" Leila decided as she carefully plucked up the box and settled into the couch. "I'm not gonna keep questioning whatever's gotten into you if it means presents."

"Well, I don't need to ask the occasion." As she worked to untie the ribbon, Leila made a wide gesture towards the house. "Kind of obvious. We were gonna have a party, but I think most of us want a break from those." Herself included. Large gatherings in Ashdown almost seemed to catalyze horrifying events, and she didn't want to encourage one to take place in her own home. She'd settled on making a life event out of it on Facebook and letting friends handle the news as they'd pleased.

Her even-paced unwrapping of the first gift gave Jeremiah a chance to get a better look around the room. Along with the usual bookshelf and selection of pet-friendly plants, there was, oddly enough, a cat bed (odd because Leila had a profound cat allergy). There was also the faint sound of finches fussing about in another room.

The jello mold was very wobbly and very yellow, except for two individual cherries that had been dropped inside to emulate the round rosy cheeks of a Pikachu. He'd given them a mold of Pikachu's head. Or at least it was some off-brand rendering of the pokemon. The eyes were in completely the wrong style, and it looked kind of creepy.

"Yeah, I keep telling Julian they can be set up in here, but he's not taking the hint," Leila replied as she worked to free the gift that looked like a framed picture from its wrapping. "But I'm sure he'd be happy to introduce you if--oh. Oh my god."

It was indeed a framed illustration.

Of a Vargas pinup girl.

What the ********, Jeremiah??