bakerstreet | A Story in Six Words

We should follow the leads.

[He says this with insistence, but really she was right. His stubbornness didn't want to believe it, but maybe for once he'll take a step back.]

What do you recommend? I don't know where anything is.

[Gotham was a big city, but it had nothing compared to London. He could only imagine what a pain in the ass it was to police this place.]

We should, but I'd be willing to bet your brain power is on low, and frankly, I'm exhausted as well.

[She glances over to him, noting the dogged determination in his eyes.]

Look: we can discuss it over food, then, yeah? Come on.

[She tugs at his sleeve, jerking her head towards the door.]

We'll just pop over to the branch local, ok? They do a good Cornish pasty in there.

[There's still a moment of hesitation, but then he finally nods.]

Anywhere with coffee.

[Which was a terrible choice and he knew it, but there was some tracking he was hoping to do before he went to bed.

Following her back to the squad car, he takes over the passenger side and has his eyes glued to the outside, determined to pick up on all the details.]

[She clicks him with a sideways glance as they drive.]

Anyone ever tell you you resemble a hawk, coiled tightly and about to pounce?

They perch or soar until they swoop--

[There's a pause followed by a sigh and the rubbing of his face.]

Sorry, point taken. [He grows quiet for a moment, still looking outside.] And what do they say about you?

Ha. Here? I'm called the 'Ice Queen'. Impenetrable. Impervious to bullshit. Extreme attention to detail. An exquisite command of sarcasm. The, erm..'exquisite' part embellished by myself.

[They pull up to said pub, and as Louise parks the car, she flashes Jim a quirked eyebrow.]

Ready?

Not entirely bad characteristics in a police force.

[He was one to talk. He wasn't much better, to be honest. He annoyed probably close to 90% of GCPD, and often managed to get his way in one way or another. Those means aren't entirely honest, either. He'd made some deals that'll probably bite him in the ass later. Even here, they might.

He slides up to the bar once they've entered and ordered a draft beer and some food.]

Thanks for showing me around while I'm on loan.

[He really shouldn't be all work and no play, given he's never been to London! But unfortunately he wasn't always very good at turning work mode off, as was the problem in the relationship department.]

Ha. You'd actually be the first person to agree with that assessment. Most of us just sit round and lament our lack of social graces.

[She chuckles as the server returns with their food--a Cornish pasty for her, stuffed with portobello, swede, potato, and onion, perfect to go with her Fuller's ESB pint of ale. She starts to tuck into her meal, pushing bits of the pasty from her knife onto her fork. As she swallows, she blots her mouth with a napkin and speaks.]

You're welcome, absolutely. But-- [And here, she chuckles dryly-] there's far more to this city than a lousy local.

Unfortunately, I'm on a time limit. This is really going out of the GCPD's way to be doing this.

[But the suspect had so many warrants and was needed for an arrest. It appeared that maybe his criminal streak wasn't over overseas either. Jim might've stabbed into his own pasty maybe a little too strongly, scraping the plate underneath.]

I was only given 2 weeks max to shut this guy down.

[Louise chewed thoughtfully, brows furrowing slightly as she considered him, her voice dropping half an octave as it grew equally quiet.]

You almost act like you'd rather be anywhere else than here.

[A beat.]

For what it's worth, none of our cases generally are open-and-shut. If they seem to be? Then there's something awry. If the branches can't handle it? Then the 'Yard's called in. Simple as.

[Jim shakes his head.]

Not trying to be a downer, but the crime rate in Gotham has severely expanded the last few years. The between various bickering mob families and the criminally insane, we can barely keep up.

I've made a few enemies myself that I'm not proud of.

[She shoots him a mockingly-coquettish grin--]

You? Made enemies? There must be some grave mistake.

[The look and twinkle in her eyes gives her away.]

[That earned a smirk as a response.]

You sound like my partner at GCPD.

I've made enemies out of people that I really shouldn't have, and it looks like I'm paying the price now for it.

I do, do I? [Her voice lilts in its cadence as she lifts an eyebrow at him.]

What's she like? [Mildly kidding, but she was curious.]

Harvey Bullock is his name. A bit brash and brutally honest. [A pause.] Sarcastic to a fault.

He likes to remind me that I'm not good at having fun outside of work.

[Jim takes a drink from his beer, as if totally ignoring that the assessment was totally true.]

[She snorts lightly, canting her head to one side, an ironic smile tugging at the corners of her lips.]

You speak like there is an end limit to sarcasm.

[She polishes off the last of her supper, and, blotting her mouth with the napkin, set it aside, and, picking up her glass to take a sip, eyes silently train themselves on him.]

But--[she sets her glass down-] there's one thing that separates me from your dear Mr Bullock: I've got no better a social life than you do. Glass houses, and all that.

[He nods to that, completely agreeing as he finishes his food and watches the crowd, as if he was scanning the room for a possible suspect. He wasn't sure why he couldn't stop the suspicion, just recognizes that he needed to make sure to find something to do that didn't involve work.]

Alright, what do you suggest? I'm sure there's a landmark or something you recommend for tourists to view. I should make it at least to one thing.

[It was almost forced, but after he found sleep and started his day off hopefully better tomorrow, he'll find something in the evening or later this week to explore.]

[She nods once, folding both hands atop the table.]

A landmark. Something for tourists to view...

[A beat-]

What if you could see all of it at once?

[Care to see the London Eye, Jim?

...That is, after you and Louise are done with tomorrow's work.]

[He doesn't catch what exactly she's talking about initially, then it hits him.]

The London Eye?

[Thanks to Edward Nygma, Jim was growing better and better at solving riddles, whether he liked it or not. It also depended upon his patience of the subject matter as well. ]

That can be done.

[He says this as if it's another task on his list.]

[Louise flags the server down for the check, and plunks the 'Yard credit card down before Jim can get his in, a lopsided grin on her face.]

You're sure you can fit it into your more-inflexible-than-mine to-do list?

[She teases, a vaguely playful expression in her eyes, but it'd do them both a little bit to let loose for once.]

I can't come all the way to London and not have done any sight-seeing or something 'fun' before I return to Gotham. Some might call it sacrilegious.

[He offers a small smile, tired, but certainly a smile nevertheless. Perhaps he'll pick something up for Harvey, given he put up quite the fuss about not coming on this trip.]

Let's aim for Friday. [Which was just a day away.] I should have more things squared away by then. [Or at least that was his intention.]

You sound like it's a chore.

[There is a dry laugh from the auburn-haired detective, and she smiles at her handsome, temporary 'co-pilot'.]

Friday, it is, then. [A beat, adding-] And I promise it won't taken more than an hour.

[When Jim made it back home, he pulled off his shoes and collapsed into bed, not even bothering changing. He didn't even remember shutting his eyes by the time the alarm went off, waking him up at 6 in the morning. Shower, shave, coffee, and navigating his way to London PD, he was looking far better, at least more awake than the previous day.]

What do we got? Any more leads come in during the night?

[He sips at his coffee, looking over the notes displayed on the collaboration boards posted.]

[Louise, for all intents and purposes, did very nearly the same as Jim upon returning home from the pub, except she did remove her makeup and shake her hair out of its holder before putting on her nightclothes. But, fall asleep she did, and hard. The alarm ringing in the a.m. jostled her from a sound sleep; however, much like Gordon, a shower and a cup of coffee and a Tube ride made the redhead feel considerably more human.

Striding into CID, Louise is a picture of perfect professionalism, clad in a dark grey pencil skirt, a crisp, white button down, black heels, and her hair swept back into a simple chignon. Making herself a builder's tea from the small break room off to the side, she emerges, leaning against the doorway, the steam from the mug rising up in slow curls.]

Mm, yes. Someone the branch in White City first thought was just some random punter who's been tossed out the pub on his arse discovered, upon running his profile through our system, that he'd been held as a person of interest in a similar murder back in '06, but was released on insufficient evidence.,

Do we have his profile and information from the murder in 2006?

[Jim's game face is on as he sips at his coffee before putting down the mug and look through the papers/files/photos closer. There was a correlation, that was eerily similar to the context of the case Jim was working on from back in Gotham. So it appeared this was an international crime, perhaps?]

Any witnesses?

[It was growing to look like today was an interview-type day, go ask questions and try to get some answers. He frowned, knowing he hated this part, but this is where things start coming together.]

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