bakerstreet | A Story in Six Words

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.

We'll see if my perspective changes as the week goes on. I'll make sure to address anything in my notes pertaining your behavior.

[theres and chuckle as he finishes his pint.]

Let's see this London Eye of yours.

[She shoots him a mockingly murderous glare before picking up her messenger bag doubling as a briefcase, and standing up.]

All right.

[....Moments later, they emerged from the Tube station at Waterloo and walked down the road a short distance until the Waterloo Millenium Pier and the Eye came into view. Once they'd reached the queue, Louise whips out her wallet for a few twenty-pound notes, flashing him a little smile as she tucks the notes into her blazer pocket.]

My treat.

You really don't---[He catches her look and he threw his hands up before him jokingly (YES THAT IS RARE, BELIEVE IT).

Once inside and it started moving, he moves from the bench to standing at the window, looking across the river and the view across from it. Jim is silent for once, taking it all in.]

What all can you point out from here?

[Louise observes him, and his silence, for several minutes before speaking, noticing his very much more relaxed state. It suited him, she thought. She pointed to her right--] Of course, right there is the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben....down a bit to the left back there...The Tower Bridge and that oddly shaped skyscraper we like to call the Gherkin. It looks like a giant pickle. Behind it? The Shard. Going up in it? You're out 50 quid.

[She shoots him a cheeky grin as the large wheel powers downwards.]

[He had a great appreciation for the architecture. There was just so much history behind it all, nothing like Gotham or anywhere in the U.S., really. The closest one would get to royal families were the mob bosses running the underground businesses in Gotham. Most of it went on with a turn of a blind eye, though everyone knew it.

He listens attentively to her explanation of the different buildings, making sure to take everything in, creating a mental map if he had to.]

And your favorite place outside of work?

[Everyone had that 'special spot', even he had to admit to having one.]

[The wheel slows to a stop and the doors open as Louise throws Jim a wry, self-deprecating expression as they step out and back onto pavement.]

Believe it or not, the answer to that question isn't as esoteric, or, for that matter, as profound as you'd perhaps like to think.

[She sighs a beat, and continues.]

The Spread Eagle, down Croydon. Near my flat. Quiet, riff-raff kept to a minimum, just good, working class clientele. No chavvy yobs on the dole.

'Spread Eagle'?

[Jim wasn't sure of the colloquialism of her last sentence, but he was more focused on the amusing pub name. Followed by a shrug.]

Sure, let's go.

[She regards Jim gamely, shaking her head.]

You've got to be joking. Of all the places, you want to have a look at my local. You're really one of a kind, most offi---

[The sound of gunshots cuts her off at the pass, one of them whizzing straight past her temple. Louise whips around, terror in her eyes as the tourists scatter and more shots are fired.]

JIM!!!!!!! MY VEST----I've not got my vest on! [It had been a leisure trip. Why would she have needed it? They weren't in the field. The fear in her eyes is raw and palpable, and she hurriedly moves to take her gun out of its holster inside her blazer.]

Stay down!

[He was separated from her, not wearing a vest either. They were off duty and turned everything in. How would they think to wear such gear? Though there was one thing Jim had, and that was his gun. After the entire ordeal of applying to being able to carry it, he certainly didn't go far without it upon him.

He's crouched down behind a post box, of all things, and searching where the shots were fired. He isn't quick to return it, afraid of shooting people in the crowd. He peeks up, and sees some people running down an alley.]

Over there!

[Louise crouches down on the other side of a stone ledge, catching her breath for a few moments.]

FUCK.

[She pops a fuller magazine into her weapon, tossing the spent one in her bag. Counting to three, she squeezes her eyes shut and sprints, low to the ground, over to where Jim is.

...But it was not to be. As she darted out, a bullet from on high catches her squarely in the shoulder and she falls to the ground. Clutching her arm, she tries to get back up, but falters.]

[Wait. That wasn't coming from the people in the alley, it had to be someone from above! Jim quickly aims his gun upwards, estimating where they might be, and shoots a couple times before dashing out to loop an arm around Louise's waist and bringing around a building corner, hopefully away from the scene.]

Are you alright!?

[He's glancing at her only from the side, afraid to stand in front of her and become too much of a target. His gaze flickers between her and looking out and trying to see where they might be.]

[She lets herself be dragged, very much against her style, but they were in imminent danger, so, honestly, who was counting? They sit in the empty alley, Louise's aqua eyes aflurry as she looks round them for shelter. A dingy, metal door is slightly ajar down the way, and she huffs out a groan.]

I'm fine. [She points, gesturing towards the doorway-]

In there. NOW.

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