bakerstreet | (no subject)

[3, 4 and 6 are preferences. :)]

[ Yes, Iroha is wearing an eyepatch. And yes, she is holding a hook in her left hand. Be afraid. ]

Y'arrr!

[You can't scare him until you've got an egg whisk in your left hand.]

I didn't actually mean that you should dress like a pirate to blend in. I was joking. You look nice though!

[If anyone rolls a 1, I will lol]

[It was a hot, sticky day in Gotham. The kind of heat that just kind of sat there like a lazy man in front of an all-day marathon of The Shadow.]

[She paid the heat little mind, of course. That's what the slow-moving ceiling fan was for. ~~And the modern portable AC unit she snuck in the room just before the scene started.~~ Hat tipped over her eyes, the young vixen kicked up a pair of high-heels onto the desk, leaning back in the chair. Waiting for the next client. Or at least her partner to return with those doughnuts he promised her.]

[And so help him, he better have glazed, or they'll be a new murder for Gotham's not-so-finest to have to solve.]

[Her fabulous partner walks in shortly after. Despite the heat, he's wearing both a fedora and a trenchcoat because he's a detective. In one hand, he's carrying a box of doughnuts of every flavor they had. Including glazed.]

Okay, so the glaze might be a little melted but I got the doughnuts.

[At the sound of doughnuts, she kicks off from the desk, spinning once in her chair before turning to face him. Grinning.]

'bout time. What took you so long?

There was something going on downtown. Maybe mass hysteria brought on by the heat.

[He sets the box of doughnuts down, flicks open the lid, and grabs the chocolate with sprinkles]

Let me guess: somebody knock over another fire hydrant?

[Too far away. She shifts from her seat right onto the desk, letting her legs dangling over the edge as she reaches back for one of her precious glazed. The gooeyness of the melted sugar coating just made it taste that much sweeter.]

Or did the public pool run out of towels again?

[He digs through the fridge for something to drink. If you have any preferences, Zatanna, best tell him now.]

Nah, I think it has to do with brown-outs all over the city.

Coke, please.

[She crosses her legs, and looks like she's pondering something in between bites]

Think there's something more to them?

[He wordlessly digs out two Cokes, tossing one to Zatanna]

Maybe. See, they're happening all over the city but only in certain neighborhoods. Like...ones with banks and museums.

[She catches it easily enough, eyebrow raised]

Because that's not suspicious at all.

And you didn't mention that part earlier because...?

I just came in and I was hot and wanted a doughnut.

[He pops open his Coke and downs some. Aaaah.]

So many responses to that. So little time.

How many of those were PG?

At least half.

Maybe.

Impressive. I thought it would've been less than that.

[Finishes off his doughnut.]

Too bad we won't get paid for investigating the brown-outs. Not unless the police get desperate.

Eh. Not like we have anything else to do today.

We could always end up with a client. [He says this but, well, they haven't had a client in days. So it doesn't sound all that convincing.]

[She's already making her way over to the coatrack, grabbing her trench and throwing it on]

Or we could just go and find one for ourselves.

Where's that adventurous spirit I went into business with?

I think I left him back at the doughnut shop.

Where do you want to start looking?

[As she fixes her hair, she closes the gap between them]

The doughnut shop?

[Jokes aside, she lowers her gaze and absently fixes his coat lapels so that they were straight and even.]

Don't want to investigate without my partner.

I'm sure I can coax him out.

[Smiling brightly.] I'm ready to get some good ol' gumshoeing on, if you are.

[Her fingers linger beneath the flaps for a moment, smiling softly to herself before she lifts her gaze.]

Always.

Then let's get going. Mystery and adventure wait for no one, not even cool people in fedoras.

[Her hands drop, but the smile doesn't fade]

Lead the way.

[He opens the door for her in the most gentlemanly way. Oof, you can feel that heat washing over you. Being a detective in the dead of a summer heatwave is suffering.]

[Maybe the trench coats were a bad idea; Zatanna could already feel the beads of perspiration trickling down her forehead as they walked into what felt like a giant oven. The very air before them seemed to ripple.]

You know what? Maybe we should just wait for a client to come to us after all.

Turning your back on adventure already?

[But he has to admit, it's wickedly hot. Gotham you are drunk.]

I like to think of it as "Plan B"

[But, Robin, aiiiiiir condiiiitioniiiiiiiing!]

Yeah, Plan A seems a little...rash. We should regroup.

[So back in they go.]

[Not all was lost, however; Zatanna still made a point of turning on the small, black-and-white television they had sitting over in one corner. As she removed the trench and used her hat to fan herself, she flicked through the channels using the bottom dial.]

Maybe we'll get lucky and find something on one of the news channels?

[He finally takes off his hat and trench. There's only so much sweltering he can take.

He sits down on a chair near the TV.]

That'd definitely save us a lot of work.

[After a few minutes, she strikes gold. Literally; the news reporter was giving a very vague, possibly only half-accurate account of a brownout at one of the smaller bank branches. No actual money had been stolen, but inventory of all safety deposit boxes had yet to be completed.]

Bingo.

[He absorbs as much of the info he can. Not a lot to go on...his favorite kind of cases.]

Definitely sounds promising. I might even have a few sources down at that bank.

I think I might be able to brave the summer sun if we have an actual destination in mind.

Your sources actually there right now?

I think so. We'll find out when we get there.

...and I think we can leave the trenchcoats behind. The fedoras will be enough.

Works for me.

[This time, when they exit, the heat is only slightly unbearable. She makes it all the way to the car this time, claiming the passenger's seat with a faint groan.]

Onward, ho?

[And he climbs into the passenger seat. Don't worry, officer, I have a license?

Unfortunately, there's no air conditioning in film noir land, so he opens his window. Only moderately helpful, really. He starts up the car and grins at Zatanna.]

Onward and...forward.

[The engine roars to life, and the licensed(?) driver hits the gas. The resultant air that blows through the open windows is a vast improvement. Her eyes close, and she reaches for her hat as the breeze sweeps her hair back]

Much better.

[Don't worry, he's a good driver.]

Nothing like the wind in your hair. Almost makes me want to grab a Coke and go to the beach. Too bad we have crimes to solve.

Reward for a job well done?

Sounds like a plan.

[He pulls up to a small bank. Crime tape surrounds it and there are cops everywhere.]

Wow, I really hope one of my contacts is here today.

Leave it to me.

[Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, she confidently steps out of the car and right over to the front entrance. The two cops on guard duty catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of their eye. Recognition apparently sets in, because one of them even smirks.]

At ease, boys.

[A few brief moments of hushed conversation, and the cops each step aside.]

[She turns back to her partner looking about as smug as smug could get.]

All set. We're in.

[Uh...

He gets out of the car, obviously confused. He walks up next to her and whispers]

Magic or good old-fashioned charm?

[She's about to answer, when there's a wolf-whistle from somewhere behind her.]

[...which promptly earns a roll of the eyes and shout of 'Not even in your dreams', before she turns back with the most innocent of smiles.]

The second one.

[For good measure, he give the guy a BAT-GLARE, learned from the master himself. That's no way to treat a lady, dude.]

Am I supposed to do the jealous partner thing and punch him or...?

Depends. Are you jealous?

Nah. I know you like me better because I'm not a jerk. Therefore, no competition and therefore no jealousy.

I'm almost disappointed.

[Winking, she turns and heads inside]

Sorry, I'll work on being more of a jerk in the future.

[He looks around. Okay, nothing particularly noticeable from a casual glance. But, of course, even the pervy cops outside would've found something if the thieves had been that obvious.]

Hey, I said 'almost'.

See anything out of place?

No, nothing so far. If there was any obvious evidence, our oh-so-charming police officer friends probably took it away by now.

Weird.

Aren't they supposed to preserve the crime scene until all parties have thoroughly investigated.

Theoretically. Honestly, unless the commissioner is here, the quality of work can drop a lot.

Or there's some kind of cover-up. But jumping to conclusions won't help, even if it's kind of fun.

But I like fun.

Especially fun that would fit. In the event of a brownout, who're usually the first to be alerted? Aside from the people actually at the scene.

I see where this is going. We can't really talk to them without arousing suspicions and...possibly other things. [He makes a face.] So we should look around, talk to witnesses. Odds are, somebody saw something.

Right.

Think there's actually a witness report? That would certainly help us in our search.

Maybe. But if we're going on the theory that the cops might be involved, even if it's only one of them, the witness report might not be reliable.

So, what you're telling me, is that we can't really trust anyone or anything at the crime scene.

Now this was worth getting cooked alive.

[He grins] It's like it was made for us.

Let's start with the safe deposit box room.

One problem. We're only legally allowed to search anything in our direct line of sight. Anything locked up is off-limits.

[And picking the locks would also be illegal. Way to take the fun out of it, laws]

Then let's see what we can legally see.

After you.

[The safe was open, thanks to the ongoing investigation. A few cops were busy checking some of the higher boxes at that particular moment.]

[Zatanna parks herself against the wall just inside]

Now all I need is some popcorn.

[He scoots on in next to her.]

And dramatic music.

[He spots something glinting from a safe deposit box. He leans forward slightly.]

It looks like there's a piece of hair stuck in that safe deposit box. And not for safekeeping, I bet.

[She takes a good look herself, then leans in to whisper:]

Black. Really black. Either a wig, or dye.

[Whispers back:]

Either is possible. But why wear a wig? Wouldn't wearing a hat be easier, especially with this heat?

Two reasons: either somebody who was suffering severe hair loss, or a woman who's just really, borderline masochistically vain.

So, our suspect so far is has unnaturally black hair and may or may not be masochistically vain.

Do you see anything else in here? I think they're bound to notice us soon.

[She bites her lip and returns her focus to the room. Scanning up an down the walls.]

...box 2396. It's clean.

[He grins.]

Good work. Let's get out of here.

And let's find out who owns that box.

This is where you take over. You're the intel guy.

Gimme a sec.

[He walks nonchalantly over to the main desk. He can't out-and-out dig through the files, but he can perhaps accidentally bump a closed file off the desk and look at its contents on the ground.

...2396... The mayor?

He caaaaarefully replaces the file and walks back over to Zatanna.]

It belongs to the mayor. This just gets more and more suspicious.

[As always, she is forever impressed by his complete lack of discretion and sheer luck at not getting caught.]

No kidding.

The question is: is he a part of this, or is he just another victim?

[He's very impressive in that regard, yes. Hey, if he can't break the law, he doesn't really know what to do when it comes to info-gathering.]

Good question. Maybe it's blackmail? Either on him or on someone else.

That would explain why the city's not-so-finest would be working to cover up a crime scene.

Now it's starting to come together. This is why these are my favorite kinds of cases.

Mine too.

Great minds think alike.

Good, because we're going to need both our minds to solve this one.

I'm certainly not going anywhere.

[He grins]

Let's see...I wonder if there's any chance we could talk to the bank manager and find out what was in that box. If he even knows.

He's gotta know. Or at least have a vague idea. Safety policies.

Any chance he's one of your "contacts"

No.

But the assistant manager is.

Worth a shot.

Where's the assistant manager's office?

Over here. [He leads her down a small side-hallway. There are two doors, one for the manager and the other for the assistant manager. P. J. Williams.

...except...do you hear arguing?

Dick stops himself from knocking on the door and listens more closely.]

He's arguing with someone...I think it's about the safe deposit box.

[She presses her ear against the door]

It's the mayor!

[He strains to hear what they're saying. It doesn't help that they can only hear half of the conversation. But it's clear that the assistant manager had failed the mayor in some way. Why only him and not the manager?

He give Zatanna a questioning look. "This is super weird."]

["Way weird" She raised en eyebrow in return.]

[Quietly backing away, she motions with her head for him to follow her back to the car.]

I have a feeling you're not the only one using him as a "source"

Apparently not. But why does the mayor have the assistant manager at a small bank like this in his pocket?

I haven't the slightest.

[He opens the door and flops in the driver's seat, looking thoughtful.]

Me neither. I guess we'll have to find out.

How? It's not like we can ask the mayor directly.

We do the boring thing: research. We need to see if the mayor or the assistant manager were involved with any shady dealings. And we need to know what was in that deposit box.

Town records?

[He nods] Ready for a trip downtown?

I wouldn't mind if you sped a little. The air feels nice.

[Dramatic gasp!] Me? Break laws? Zatanna, I would never.

[And then he grins.] Buckle up and let's see how fast we can go. I say we get there in two minutes, tops.

[She does fasten her buckle, but shows no signs of fear or tenseness.]

I'll time you.

[Another, more mischievous grin.]

Here we go!

[And he floors it.]

[There is no time for words. Only laughter.]

[Two teenagers going 60 and weaving through traffic while laughing their heads off? Just another day in Gotham.

He does an interesting parallel parking job (i.e. he slides into a parking spot) in front of City Hall.]

[She's fanning herself from more than just the heat now]

Nice.

Remind us to do this again sometime.

Thanks.

I will. Maybe next time it'll be a wild car chase.

That would be sweet.

[Getting out, she heads for the main entrance.]

Throw in a couple of explosions and some cool music, and it'll be our finest moment yet.

[Following along.]

The records should be kept in the basement. They're always in the basement.

[Jokingly:] Because keeping it anywhere convenient and well-lit would encourage people to look at them.

I just hope nobody's gone and done a little "cleaning" when it comes to the files.

Like you said. People never actually come down here.

Mostly because we'd have no idea where to start--I didn't think it was possible to fit this many filing cabinets in a single room.

[He walks around, trying to find a sort of filing system.]

It would be so much easier if we knew what kind of dirt we were trying to dig up.

Nobody ever said this was going to be easy, partner.

[She picks a random file and starts flipping through it]

Well, think mayor and scandals. Anything popping up in the latest tabloids?

[He walks along the rows of file cabinets. Scandal...]

Now that you mention it, I remember reading an article in this lesser-known tabloid a few days ago. It was about his daughter...

The one where she was caught with a suspended license?

Yeah. But why cover that up? Unless there's something else going on with the mayor's daughter.

But that wouldn't have anything to do with the security vault.

At worst, we'd find evidence of him paying off the press or something. And even then...I mean, we already know about it.

[He leans against one of the file cabinets.]

Do you know why her license was suspended?

No. I only skimmed the article while you were reading it.

[Thinkiiiiing...]

It was drugs! She got caught driving "under the influence." Multiple narcotics, if I remember right.

Again, fascinating, but where's the connection?

I'm still not sure. But anytime drugs and a huge cover-up are involved, there's gotta be something big involved.

What do you know about Gotham's drug cartels?

Not much. I'm still relatively new to the city, remember?

Oh, right. [He sits on one of the lower filing cabinets and thinks.]

One of my sources said that the cops were closing in on one cartel and then suddenly backed off. The West Side gang, I think.

I've heard the name in passing, but that's about it.

How much do we know about this particular gang?

Not much. There's a suspicious lack of information about them.

That seems to be the theme of the day, doesn't it?

Yep. But we won't let a little thing like that stop us, right?

Never.

There's gotta be some low-level street man we can talk to.

Trips down shady back alleys? Sounds exciting.

But first...do they store campaign finances in the public records office? Maybe the cartel has the mayor in its pocket.

Depends. There's two ways to finance the campaign. If it's a SuperPac, we're out of luck; they aren't required to reveal any of their donors.

These guys seem to smart to donate directly. We might be out of luck. Just in case... [He walks down a row of filing cabinets, flips through a few files.]

You're right. Nothing suspicious in the official files.

Told you.

So...back alleyway it is. Yay.

How could I doubt the brilliant Zatanna?

Don't worry, I have our "gear" in the car.

[A Batarang to the face usually loosens lips, okay.]

[And this is why she keeps you around]

Better grab it first, then. Because I'm seriously doubting these guys will give us time enough to jump out of the car before they start running.

I'm already regretting saying this, but...we'd probably do better on foot.

Yeah, the car will attract way too much attention. On foot it is. Maybe if we run fast enough, we can make our own cooling breeze.

[He's kidding.]

[This face]

[This face.]

[This face]

Shall we?

[Because being beautiful people making faces doesn't solve crimes, unfortunately.]

[No, but it is fun]

Right.

Grab your stuff, and we'll head out. If we're lucky, we can at least keep to the shady parts. No pun intended.

I'm not sure that pun was unintended.

[Leaving the records room.]

Whatever helps you sleep at night, partner.

[Before they're even outside, she's rolling up her sleeves and loosening the tie around her neck. Enough to offer at least some relief while still looking as professional as possible. Her hair, damp with sweat, is pulled back into a low ponytail.]

I'd say we've got at least an eight block walk ahead of us.

[He's not much better off. His sleeves are already rolled up and he loosens his tie more, undoing the top button. Geez, Gotham.]

At least you'll have great company. And we're not in a rush.

[He walks over to the car, gets their awesome supplies out, and is ready to go!]

There is that.

[And as they start walking, just for laughs, she pretends to make small talk:]

So how's your day going so far?

Well, let's see, I had a gourmet breakfast with a fascinating lady this morning and now I'm out on a brisk stroll in this fine weather. And how is your day?

Pretty much the same. Verbatim.

[/teasing]

Oh? And who was this "fascinating lady"?

Somebody you know.

Really? Do tell.

Well...I'll give you a hint: excellent driver, great sense of humor...and not bad on the eyes, either.

That almost sounds like a female version of me.

What a coincidence!

Isn't it? I hope she was as entertaining as I am.

Almost.

Almost? Alas, what would you do without me being completely entertaining?

Clearly, my life would have this empty void I would long to fill with the joy of laughter.

Then I suppose I'll just have to stick around.

Works for me.

[They were approaching one of the darker streets now, evident but the noticeable increase in boarded windows and street trash.]

Don't look now, but I think we're getting close.

[He steps over a broken beer bottle.] This place gives a whole new meaning to "seedy."

[He turns down a nearby alley, keeping to the shadows.]

If I see anything, I'll be sure to scream.

Me too.

[There's a totally not-shady group of three young men standing at the end of the alley, talking in raised voices about money owed to the West Siders.]

I think this is where we say "bingo."

Now the question is, who do we have approach first? Me or you?

Either of us will throw them off. If I approach, they might be aggressive. If you approach, they might be aggressive or hit on you. Or both.

I could deal with the latter. And maybe I could distract them long enough to give you a one-up?

I don't need long. I'll position myself above [He gestures at the fire escape overhead.]. If you could lure them closer over here, I can come down on them from above.

I can do that.

[She cracks her knuckles]

Time to put those acting classes I never took to some good use. Wish me luck.

[Whoooosh and he's vanished, but not before saying:] I think they're the ones who are gonna need luck.

[She has to hide the smirk as she approaches, trying to look as naive and bewildered as possible.]

E-excuse me? I was wondering if you gentleman could help me?

[It worked; the paused their argument long enough to see who dared interupt. At the sight of Zatanna's smile, however, the angry glares melted away into smirks.]

Well, hello, there. Little lost, are we now?

That's right. I was looking for the Cinema. Tell me, am I heading in the right direction?

Oh, you're in luck. We know exactly where to bring you.

[She has their full attention now. Which would have been frightening if she hadn't caught a glimpse of Robin coming up from behind.]

[He jumps down silently and leg-sweeps the closest guy. The other turns around and both go to draw their weapons. But before they even get their guns out of their holsters, Robin's disarmed them both with two swift kicks. He knocks them against the wall and has them all cornered

He grins at Zatanna] Nice job.

I'd like to thank the Academy.

[Joking aside, she steps up to help Robin in restraining them. Voice as sugary-sweet as during her act, she asks them as a collective:]

Like I was saying. I could really use your help, boys. My friend here's got a few questions for you, and I'd just love for you to answer.

[Robin turns on "vigilante mode" and leans in toward the guys. One chuckles a little ("What're you gonna do, little boy?") and Robin simply smiles back.

And pulls out a grapple. And strings the laughing guy to it. And shoots it into the air so that the guy is danging a good twenty feet off the ground.]

That. That's what I'm gonna do, big boy.

[Zee lingers back, still holding the one guy in a particularly painful stronghold. Smirking with approval.]

I do so love watching you work sometimes.

Right back at you. Nice hold.

[He turns to the last remaining guy who is finally realizing that he done messed with the wrong kids.]

Now. I want to know more about the West Side gang. Because, between you and me, your friends are getting off easy and I get a little...testy when I get impatient.

[The man's face turned red from the rush of blood to his head. A few mumbled words came out, but nothing coherent.]

I think he's ready to talk.

[He would make a joke about how he was more ready to pop but he must be serious. For once.]

Speak up. I want to know about the West Side gang. Base of operations, bosses, generals, the whole deal.

I don't know all that! Man, I'm just a street dealer!

Then tell us what you do know.

[She was starting to get impatient]

And hurry up. My friend's getting impatient.

O-okay, okay! I get my supplies from a guy on 45th street. Darren. Don't know his last name. That's all I know, I swear!

Right, because I'm going to believe you when you swear on something. I know you know more. Spill.

I don't know nothin' else! [Robin chucks a Batarang dangerously close to the guy's face.]

What about other customers? Any standouts? Say, girls who don't look like they belonged?

[For emphasis, Robin gives the guy a "you'd better answer this or I'll throw another Batarang" face.]

Uh, there was this one girl. Blonde, looks rich. 'scept she's not lookin' so rich anymore.

[They shared a glance. Jackpot.]

Tell us more about the girl.

Ain't much else to tell! She went the same way they all went. Got more desperate. Skinnier. Used to be a looker, 'till she finally let it get to her. Same ol' same ol'.

Where does she hang out?

Man, I don't know. I'm guessin' 46th street. Probably waiting for me.

[Shares a look with Zee. Ready to hunt down a wayward daughter?]

[Nod]

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

[She lets her thug go, brushing off her hands as she proceeds to ignore his groans of pain as he hits the ground. Turns to her partner.]

Shall we?

We shall.

[He tosses a Batarang and cuts the other guy down.]

[They walk off together.]

I've never been to that part of town before.

Yeah, it's not exactly a tourist hotspot. Just stick close; we don't want to get separated.

[She salutes]

Aye, aye, captain. I'm following your lead.

[And he leads the way to 46th street. The area just gets shadier and shadier until anyone who wasn't a badass superhero might get a little anxious.

At first, nobody's there. But then, they can just barely make out a thin figure in a hoodie nearby.]

Ready?

[Badass superheroine or not, even Zatanna was starting to feel a little anxious]

You sure that's her?

Not really. I can't get a good look at her from over here. But...she does kinda stick out. She seems nervous.

Gentle approach?

Yeah, but stay on your guard just in case.

Gotcha.

[She falls silent as they approach, lingering back and waiting for Robin to give her the signal. He was always better at the gentle approach than she was, especially when it came to females.]

[He nods and crosses the street. At first, the hooded figure seems startled, defensive. But Dick keeps smiling and his skills start to work. The girl starts opening up, gesturing a little. As she talks, she seems to get more distressed until you can hear sobbing even across the street.

It takes a few minutes, but she calms down enough to be able to talk.

Dick gestures Zatanna over.]

[She approaches the two of them cautiously, not wanting to scare the poor girl any further. Her words are awkward, but gentle.]

Hey. We just want to help, alright?

Y-you can't tell my dad! Please! He can't--

We won't tell anybody. I swear. Just gonna ask you a few questions, that's all. And if you don't want to answer them, just tell us.

[The girl hiccuped a few times, wiping at her eyes, before nodding]

[Gently:] Does your dad have any kind of association with the West Side gang?

[The girl seems startled, almost scared.] T-they...they financed his re-election campaign. He didn't know, not at first. But then he found out and they threatened to blackmail him. M-make him look dirty. [She hiccups again.]

['But he IS dirty' was what Zatanna wanted to say. She had to bite her tongue; comments like that probably wouldn't help things.]

How long ago did the blackmailing start?

[He shares a look with Zatanna. Daddy dearest seems to be hiding his shady dealings from his daughter.]

About six months ago. [She sniffles] I don't know what they want, or what they have as p-proof that he's "dirty." Daddy wouldn't do this! I swear!

[Gently:] We know. We're just trying to help. His safety deposit box was broken into. Any idea why?

No. He never even let me see what was in it. I had my own box for my jewelry and trust fund papers.

Which box was that?

I'd...rather not say, if you don't mind.

[She was retreating again. Zatanna eased off.]

I don't. It's probably not important anyway.

Is there anything else you can think of? A name. A face. Anything that might explain the sudden break-in?

[She thinks.] There...there was a man, last week. He called the house, said his name was Leo and that he wanted to talk to my dad. But Daddy wasn't home so I told him I'd take a message and he said "he knows why I'm calling.

I'm sorry, that's all I know.

[So now they had a name. For starting off with nothing, it was a pretty good lead.]

Thanks. You've helped us more than you realize.

[She motions with her head for Robin to follow her back the way they came.]

[Dick smiles] Thanks. And don't worry, it'll be okay.

[He walks along with Zatanna] Well, productive morning so far.

Stop me if this sounds familiar to you:

Dirty mayor, being blackmailed by a gang that allegedly contributed a hefty sum to his reelection campaign, has his safety deposit box broken into just days after some creepy guy named Leo calls and leaves an ominous message. A box which he wouldn't even let his own daughter have access to.

So, we need two things: we need to find Leo and find out what was in that safety deposit box. Those are the missing pieces.

[She glances up at one of the town clocks]

I'm not sure how much headway we're going to get on food in that department.

Maybe we should head back to the office and come up with our next plan?

Good plan. Wanna grab something to eat on the way back? We...kinda have a long walk to get back to the car.

[And it's just getting hotter as the sun gets higher in the sky.]

Great. I'm starving!

[Walking along, do de do. Don't want to get food in the shady part of town, uhhh.]

Any preferences?

[Yeah, no. Wait until they find a nicer neighborhood.]

I could go for a nice bowl of pasta.

Sounds good to me. I just want to get out of this heat.

Same.

If we have room after, maybe we can stop by the ice cream parlor?

Are you kidding? There's always room for ice cream.

[She lightly bumps into him at that, smiling. All things considered, she was enjoying herself. A lot. It was the most excitement either of them had gotten in a long while, and certainly the least frustrating. Clues were slowly falling into place, and though the majority of their evidence was second-hand gossip and speculation, it fit.]

[Eventually, they came to a small Italian eatery. The concrete steps led below the ground to a dimly lit, but otherwise pleasant cafe. With fans blowing everywhere.]

After you.

[He bows dramatically.] Thank you, my lady.

[He descends into the cafe and requests a table for two. The server gives them a knowing look and finds a nice table in the back, where it's cool and private.]

[Zatanna ignores the look because being out of the sun and under the gentle breeze of those fans was absolutely wonderful; she sunk blissfully into her seat with an expression of pure satisfaction.]

[Dick does likewise.] Great idea, Zatanna. [He doesn't even bother looking at the menu yet.]

I'm full of those.

[The serve comes over with a warm smile and overly-thickened accent to ask what they'd like to drink.]

Water. Lots of it. And don't skimp on the ice.

[It was tempting to also ask for a glass of wine, but she knew they wouldn't serve her one.]

[Dick's a bit tired so all he says is:] Ditto.

[Once the waitress walks away, he talks a bit more animatedly] I feel kind of bad for the mayor's daughter.

[Her eyes close as she fans herself with her hat. Still paying full attention, despite outward appearance.]

In some areas, yeah. The secrecy and mess her dad's gotten her into.

But some of those decisions that got her into trouble were her own.

[He leans back.]

Yeah. Still can't help but feel kind of bad for her. Maybe there's even more going on than we know about.

You're as ambitious as ever.

How 'bout we focus on the stuff we do know is going on first, hmm?

Yeah, I know. Man, I didn't expect it to get this complicated.

No kidding. Politics? Corruption? Gang involvement? All out of a simple brownout bank robbery.

My head sort of hurts just thinking about it.

We really know how to pick cases.

Are you sure it's not from dehydration?

It's possible. Or maybe it's both.

[She leans her elbows lightly on the table and starts to massage her forehead]

If you weren't feeling well, you should've said something. [He looks concerned.]

I'll be fine. It's not too bad.

[Though she'll still massaging them, even after the waiter returns with their drinks.]

[Yeah, look how much he believes you right now, Zatanna. He'll be keeping a close eye on you.]

If you're sure.

I'm sure.

[She's just going to ignore that look and take a sip of her glass]

Maybe if we take our minds off the case for a little bit, it'll help. Give us time to recharge.

[He drinks some water.]

So how do you know about this place?

Found it one afternoon while on patrol.

It's clean, quiet, and the food's not half bad either.

All the qualities of a decent restaurant. So, what do you recommend?

Well, personally, I like the Alfredo. But I'm guess you'd want something with actual meat in it, am I right?

Because I'm a guy? That sounds an awful lot like stereotyping.

Hey, if I'm wrong, I'm wrong.

Can't really help you in that department, anyway.

Now I want to order the alfredo just to overthrow your stereotype.

So order it.

We'll match.

Maybe I will. And then that waitress will stare at us again.

I don't mind.

Me neither. But what's with the staring in the first place? It's like she's never seen two detectives having lunch before.

[Casually sips at her water, as she replies:]

Because she thinks we're a couple.

Now where would she get an idea like that?

Beats me.

[He just smiles in turn. When the waitress with a staring problem comes back, he pointedly orders the alfredo.]

I'll have the same.

[Continues to ignore the smirking. Because she really doesn't mind. At all.]

[Good thing she likes the smirking because it's here to stay.

And the waitress just kinda looks back and forth between them. WTF did she interrupt?]

[The heck if they really know themselves. They're too busy having a smirkoff.]

[The waitress looks at both of them like they're nuts before she scurries off.

This, of course, causes Robin to laugh.]

[And, naturally, him laughing causes her to giggle.]

[She holds up her glass in a playful toast]

[Clinks his glass against hers]

Well played.

Denial is boring.

People are going to assume no matter what. Might as well have a little fun, hmm?

Well, I am a fan of fun. What do you have in mind?

Depends. What are you up for?

How about some chalant banter that makes everyone around us feel awkward?

That just happens to be my favorite kind of banter.

[The busboy arrives to deliver their complimentary breadsticks. Zatanna makes a point of getting up, repositioning her seat so that she's adjacent to him, rather than all the way across the table. Leaning in, she whispers in his ear.]

How's this?

[Whispers back:] Perfect.

[He totally chalantly puts his arm around her shoulders.]

[The busboy--barely older than they were--looks expectantly unsure. He keeps glancing back and forth between the two, his mouth opening several times before he just turns and walks away.]

Huh. He looked nervous for some reason.

[Smirking mischievously, she reaches out with one arm to grab a breadstick. Nibbling while still leaning against him.]

I always say you can judge how good a restaurant is by the quality of their bread.

I couldn't possibly know why.

[He just smiles at her.] And how is it?

[She breaks off a piece at the bottom, holding it out for him to try.]

You tell me.

[And try it he does.]

Not bad.

[There's a bottle of olive oil on the table. Zatanna uses her bread plate to pour some for dipping, adding a bit of black pepper before going to town.]

[The look on her face? Pure heaven.]

[And he may or may not think that that's kinda cute.

Eating some bread himself.]

This was exactly what I needed.

Are you feeling better?

[NO HE HASN'T FORGOTTEN.]

Mostly.

Headache's still there, but it's more like a very faint, dull ache now.

[He gives her a little side-hug (because his arm is still around her shoulders, I guess?)]

Good. Maybe all you needed was some food.

[And probably not moving until at least their meal comes. Not with the way that one elderly couple keeps glancing over at them. All in the name of fun, right?]

Bread and water. The meal of champions.

[Oh, yeah, and it's only in the name of fun. Of course.]

And alfredo.

We haven't gotten that part yet.

[As if on cue, the server returns with their meal. Taking a moment to notice the seat chance, she places each of their dishes on the table with a practiced skill.]

Is there anything else I can get you?

[He grins up at the waitress.] Oh, not right now. We're still deciding on dessert. [He says this with a total verbal wink and nudge. Just to make the waitress uncomfortable.]

[Adds to the waitresses' discomfort]

But you promised me something sweet!

Oh, don't worry, I'll think of something.

Can't wait.

[She giggles as the waitresses immediately spins on her heels and speed-walks away]

...we did say we were going for ice cream before, didn't we?

Oh, that's right. Silly me.

[Smirks. Ah, man, that waitress's reaction.]

That's what I thought.

[She finally gets up, now that actual food is here, and scoots her chair a little further away so they would have room to eat. Grabbing her fork and a large spoon, she begins twirling some of the pasta before taking a large bite.]

[He digs into his food and...apparently was rather hungry. He's not quite shoveling his food down at Wally speed (not that he could if he wanted to) but he clears a good half of his plate before he talks again]

Good stuff. How's yours?

Fresh. The sauce and the pasta.

We'll have to order out here again. Because I don't think they'll let us back in the restaurant.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

[Grins] I think the elderly couple over there would disagree.

Oh, please. We haven't actually done anything. Not really.

Everyone here's just too prudish. [Which is what makes the game so much fun.]

What's with that anyway? How could be there be this high a concentration of prudes in one restaurant at one time?

It's not just the restaurant, you know. It's the 1940s in general.

I think we were born in the wrong era. That would explain all the staring. And people mistaking you for my secretary.

[She rolls her eyes]

Don't even get me started on that one. Does it look like I'm wearing a skirt to you?

No. But I'm a detective, remember? And some people are just closed-minded.

Ugh.

Like I'd want to spend my whole day sitting at a desk and answering phones.

It wouldn't suit you. [Is that a hint of fondness? Maybe.]

Besides, who knows what trouble you'd get into if you didn't have me around?

The kind that's not nearly as fun as the trouble we get into together.

Exactly.

Look at what I'd be missing out on.

Creeping out waitresses and elderly couples while enjoying a dish of amazing alfredo?

With the most fun partner this side of the Red Car line.

I try.

[Smiles. Taking one last bite, she puts her fork down. Roughly 3/4 of her plate is empty.]

Mmm...so good. I'm stuffed!

[He's polished off his plate.]

No room for ice cream, then?

Lies and slander.

There's always room for ice cream.

See? This is why we work so well together.

Ready to pay the check and get out of here? Or should we make them stare judgmentally at us some more?

Eh, even the judging gets old after a while.

Andiamo~

Oui, ma chérie.

[Yes, he's aware that's French.]

[She just smiles back at him for a moment. The look she's giving him...well...let's just say the line was blurred as to how much of it was part of the "game"]

[The moment is interrupted when the waiter returns, however, looking all to ready to give them their check.]

[That always seems to happen, though neither of them really get around to admitting it. Denial? Prudence? Confusion? Hard to say.]

[Robin takes the check BECAUSE HE CAN and pays. And leaves a huge tip, just to weird the waitress out more.]

Alright, ready to go back into the lovely sweltering streets of Gotham?

[Either that, or they're just waiting to see who says something first.]

No.

But let's go anyway. Before I change my mind.

[Ah, a psychological game of chicken. We'll see how long that lasts.

He leads the way out of the restaurant. The heat is even more pronounced after having been in the cool restaurant for so long.]

Ugh. I was hoping it'd be cooler by now.

No such luck. We're in for another hot, sticky night tonight.

I'd say we should pick up more fans while we're out, but I bet they're sold out.

Ugh. And the one at my apartment is busted, too.

You can take one out of the office, if you want. Not like we'll be using it.

Maybe I'll just sleep in the office. Better neighborhood. I could actually leave the windows open.

That's one problem solved. Now we just have this little case to solve. No problem, right?

None at all.

Now then, where were we? Political corruption, frightened daughter, bank robbery, gang involvement, blackmail, major coverups...did I forget anything?

Severe lack of information.

We need to find this guy Leo, right?

Do you think we'd stand a chance if we confronted the mayor? Or would we be spending the night in a very poorly-ventilated jail cell?

Depends on how we approach him. But I'm not really willing to risk losing that lovely spring sofa in the lounge tonight.

We find Leo first. If that turns out to be a dead end, we can try talking to the Mayor. But only as a last resort.

You're right. If we have to approach him, we need to be able to corner him.

Let's see. Any ideas on how to find this Leo?

Not a one. We don't even know if that's his real name, honestly.

Let's head back to the office, then. I'll make a few calls.

Right.

[They pass by the ice cream shop, and she pauses. Smiling, she doesn't even say anything. Just motions to the sign]

[And of course he just silently follows her in. It's always the best time for ice cream.]

[She gets strawberry, of course. In one of those large waffle cones. Just one scoop--she was still pretty full from that delicious meal, but like she said, there was always room for ice cream.]

[And he gets rocky road. Just one scoop too, since he's pretty full. And there might be running involved later on.]

[Because of the heat, she does pause long enough to lean against the building, in the shade. But once the majority of her ice cream is eaten, she starts to head for the car.]

Definitely the best case I've ever been on.

If ice cream makes a case good, we should get it more often.

[He's finished off his cone too and sliiiides in the driver's seat. Better hold on to your hat, Zee.]

[Oh, she's holding. The last of her cone is swallowed in single gulp, before she slides comfortably in her seat. Ready.]

[He grins, starts the car and punches it. They end up back at the office in no time, without so much as a speeding ticket.]

[Because no cop could catch them]

[Zatanna, meanwhile, is lightly fanning herself.]

I love it when you do that.

[Well yeah.]

Why do you think I do it?

[Gets out of the car and walks into the office. He immediately turns on every fan.]

[She follows, taking a seat on the couch, chin in hands.]

So who exactly do you call to inquire about a possibly psudo-named mob guy?

I know a guy who knows a guy.

[Mysterious smile. He picks up the phone and dials.]

Of course you do.

[She sits quietly in her little spot, watching the master at work.]

[He just smiles again and starts talking to a guy on the other end. He starts rattling on in Italian, inquiring about Leo. The conversation lasts a few minutes and it sounds like he has to snap at the guy on the other end a few times to pry information out of him. But he hangs up the phone triumphantly.]

The guy's name is Leopold Reynolds. He's a mid-level gangster for the West Side gang. Mostly in charge of "cleaning up messes." He has a rap sheet a mile long, but it was mostly petty crimes until recently. You wanna guess what his most recent charge has been?

[She raises an eyebrow in amusement.]

Ricattare un ufficiale.

Ho sentito.

Nice accent. But, no. Kidnapping.

Huh. That's what I get for only listening to half the conversation.

Who'd he kidnap?

Catherine McCalister, the daughter of a prominent businessman who just so happens to be suspected of dirty business dealings.

This pattern is starting to turn into a map.

[Is he excited? Maybe.]

[She's waiting for him to start giggling with glee.]

Isn't she the same age as the Mayor's daughter? They look pretty similar, too.

[Give it a few minutes. He just might.]

You got it.

Interesting.

Think that could have anything to do with why the poor girl looked more frightened than normal?

Like it was some sort of warning aimed specifically at her, the mayor, and anyone else who tries to cross the gang? I'd say it'd shake up anyone.

More than just that.

If there a chance she knows this girl...the one who was kidnapped...not to mention could easily be mistaken for her...[Trails off, wanting to see if he makes the connection]

So you're thinking that he just screwed up?

It'd be one heck of a coincidence otherwise.

The question is: which end did he screw up on?

That's the question.

Why don't we ask dear old Leopold ourselves?

You know where to find him?

Oh, you're good.

I try.

Our next destination is a nice, swanky penthouse uptown. A refreshing change of pace, wouldn't you say?

I could kiss you.

[She's already up and heading for the door]

Since when do street guys live in penthouses?

[Doesn't respond to the first part because there's no response that won't be awkward, heh.]

Since he-- drumroll please-- started dating the second-in-charge's daughter. It's actually her penthouse.

Which means we need to gear up and be really, really careful.

[Especially since it was one of those things that had sort of just come out; if she stopped and thought about what'd she said, she probably wouldn't be looking so calm right then.]

Suddenly, it all makes sense.

When are we ever not careful?

...don't answer that. Just tell me if I should get the pistols out of the closet for this one.

[He thinks]

...No guns. We don't want this to turn nasty. Just make sure to have a spell or two ready.

Always.

[It was getting late in the day, and while the humidity was still thick, the sun wasn't nearly as strong in beating down on them. Small favors, really.]

[She rehearsed a few spells in her mind on the way over, ready to immobilize or disarm at a moment's notice. People often wondered why Robin had taken her on as a partner when she lacked experience. Anyone who crossed her soon found out.]

[Well, people also wondered why a thirteen-year-old would be a detective. But once he dug up some dirt on them or solved a huge case, they ate their words. Part of him likes being underestimated, actually. It makes their shocked faces even funnier.

He takes the elevator to the tenth floor. He walks along and stops at room 1003. Gestures at Zatanna. "Let's listen in and see if anything's going on inside."]

[She gives a silent nod, putting her ear against the door.]

[After a moment, whispers:] I don't hear anything.

[He nods.] Stay on guard.

[He stands up straighter and suddenly speaks in a voice that sounds gravely and rough. Completely unlike his own.] Leo, open up! It's Gio.

[He was already setting up for the next gig. It was nothing major. Take down a few top gang leaders, make it look like the other side did it. No biggie.]

Did you get me a few stragglers? We need to dump those bodies at the scene, once we take out these guys. Make sure those gang colors are bright and noticeable.

Yeah, they're all packed up and ready to go. Wonder why our employer wants to start a gang war anyway.

>Be a hard-boiled noir detective

The scene opens to a quiet, modestly organized office. The name on the glass pane reads "Kanaya Maryam, Private Investigator". The owner of the office, one Kanaya Maryam, Private Investigator, sits behind a desk covered in files and folders and pictures, all showing an attempt at organization, but apparently having proven too great a task even for this hard-boiled sleuth.

The detective herself exudes a sense of class and sophistication, with the unlit cigarette between her lips, the bottle of unopened scotch on her desk, and the unloaded revolver safely strapped away on its holster near her file cabinet. Yes, truly a picture of your classic detective story protagonist. She pores over the folders of a case in front of her, one regarding the Midnight Crew's latest crime. She finds a lot of these cases, but it's mostly just meddling on her part, and she hasn't earned many friends on the force by sticking her glowing nose into such things.

>Begin inner monologue

You begin an inner monologue, using as deep and serious a mental tone as you can muster. You muse about the crime of this city, how it never sleeps and how it's caused you to lose sleep as a result. Luckily, you also muse, you've managed to hide the fact well enough with the proper makeup. You adjust your fedora and your hair, making sure both remain perfect, then glance up at the door. Days like this, you think to yourself, there always seems to be trouble around the corner, just waiting to walk right in the door.

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Jensen Ackles || Supernatural AU || Slash Pref

Photo Finish ✶ My Little Pony: FiM ✶ ota

Eleventh Doctor | Doctor Who

3, because there has to be a pirate planet somewhere seriously

There's a planet of hats, so why the hell not?

Dick Grayson | Young Justice

6 <== I DO WHAT I WANT

WE'RE RP REBELS.

WITH FEDORAS

AND TRENCHCOATS

AND SUNGLASSES?

B) Of course. Can't make puns without them.

B) YEEEEEEAH-!

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