bakerstreet | A Story in Six Words

[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.]

[Still holding her mug of tea, Louise reaches atop the nearby filing cabinet and picks up a folder labelled '2006', blithely tossing it on top of Jim's papers with a little smirk.]

Witnesses? None. Just forensic evidence.

[She gives him a dry, deadpan expression-]

We're Scotland Yard. We do the cases that are the most impossible.

[He quietly flips through the files, skimming through the written documents and photographs provided. He looks up.]

Track down the family members from these files, see if they've noticing anything strange or been contacted by anyone. Sometimes they come back to unfinished business. We'll start there and then weed through witnesses at the pub.

[Louise and Jim spent the better part of the next eight hours poring through files and going through the boroughs of London, speaking with the victims' families, gleaning only a few new, potentially lucrative details than what they already had. Still, it was a productive day, and by the time they'd reached the pub a little after 5:30, they were both exhausted. Louise, for her part, gave up after the first three witnesses, and just ordered a pint and retreated to a dark corner where she sprawled out on one of the chairs, thoroughly knackered.

...And, they still had the London Eye to grace yet that evening. A few strands of Louise's hair had come loose from that morning's chignon, but she didn't care as she sipped on her lager, crossing her legs.]

[Jim is quickly realizing that after this day, he totally hadn't caught up to this sleep schedule. Sadly, his tenacity has been fueling him, pushing Louise further to search just one more item on their continuously growing list. Harvey Bullock has often fondly called him a slave driver when he got in these 'modes', and it wasn't too far from the truth.

Sliding into a chair next to her, he loosened his tie and top button to his shirt. She was exhausted, and he recognized that quickly, though his gaze was still focused upon the room, scanning it as if a suspect will jump out at him.

Finally taking a sip of the pint he had in hand, he nodded to her.]

You've done good work today. I've appreciated the help.

[She snorted as she set the glass upon the small wooden table. Her own top buttons had been undone as well, in an effort to take a load off.]

'Good work', eh? [A tiny smirk, followed by a small huff of a laugh.]

...You're more tenacious than even the Superintendent.

[Her eyes slid over to watch him as he surveyed the bar scene like a red-tailed hawk, noting that he seemed much more appealing loosened up like he was at the moment, even if his expression was anything but.]

Come down from the ledge, dear Mr Gordon, we've still a tourist attraction to hit after you knock back that lager.

[She drawled the words out in a soft alto, the vaguest hint of a chuckle behind them. For someone often pegged as inflexible herself, Louise found her temporary partner amusing to no end.]

[He laughs at that, the whites of his teeth showing and his shoulders visibly relax and loosen. Taking another drink from the glass, he finally sits back with an arm thrown over the back of the chair in a more relaxed posture.]

I think I'm so used to people breathing down my neck, that I need to find more answers quickly. London is more tight-lipped than Gotham.

[He taps his fingers against the glass to the beat of the song playing in the background.]

I hadn't forgotten going on the London Eye.

Blame it on our famous English propriety. That, and our collective stiff upper lip.

[She huffed out a breath, smiling at him more readily now. Were his stay going to have to be extended, Louise felt she could get used to this side of him.]

Relaxation is an art form. [She chortled into her glass, taking a long pull from her beer-] Believe it or not, prior to your appearance here? I was considered the uptight one. So, believe me, I'm well pleased you're here to steal that mantle away from me.

I don't believe that. [A pause.] Not entirely. You've offered to show me around and convinced me I need to have fun while I'm here. I've taken the bait.

[He makes it a point to look her in the eye and offer a smile.]

[His effort is not lost on her, and she returns his gaze, holding it for just a bit, the tiny smile growing a bit larger.]

You don't? Ha...tell that to my DCI. Or, for that matter, my Detective Inspector Lestrade. They'd give you likely a different perspective.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject