doomed_copper | GCPD Goes Undercover.

Gordon was late to picking her up as he was getting the last touch of his suit tailored. White (Or was it cream? Who cares.) wasn't typically a color of his choosing, but it suited him well enough.

"Sorry." He offered her a half smile in apology, "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." But it was worth it, as the color of her dress certainly complimented her skin tone. OK, so he could get used to this.

As they're walking towards the car, Gordon glanced over, "I like the dress." It was sincere, realizing he probably didn't compliment her enough.

Upon hearing the doorway to the Grand Hall swing open, Louise's head whipped round and she was greeted with absolute resplendence in the form of one James Gordon. She sucked in a deep breath, taking him in as he strode over to her; her already-rosy cheeks may have coloured just that much more upon seeing him in that tremendous get-up.

"'The Great Gatsby,' Jim...," she led off with. "...it's rather definitely a...perfect look for you, I, erm--" She coughed, her mind wandering to places it decidedly shouldn't for the infiltration they were about to do.

"ANYWAY!" she said brightly, continuing on as they walked to his unmarked vehicle, "I just wanted to get a bit of recognizance in the venue, see if I could spot any familiar faces before you arrived. We've got to enter from the back. The alley straight back to the right will take us there."

There's an uptick of a smile at her compliments and minor stuttering. It was flattering to say the least, given how little effort he made in the decision process of what to wear. To him it didn't matter, he'd be spotted regardless if there was anyone he knew. He knew far too many people.

"I'll stick to the outskirts of the rooms." Louise wasn't as recognizable as he was, but that was quickly diminishing the longer they worked together. However, he'd prefer to have her more out front and center and he would lurk.

Finally they arrive at the destination and Jim glances over to Louise. "Ready?"

She eyed Gordon up nervously. "Ready as I'll ever be," came the reply. But, before they could exit the car, Louise grasped him by the tie and pulled him in for a heady kiss--shortened, yet desirous nonetheless--and released him. "Just in case, you know--things go arse over tit during the next hour and a half," she said, shrugging.

Louise climbed out of the vehicle first. She was the least likely to be noticed straight off the bat. Slowly, she walked into the back door of the venue, past the kitchens and the offices, and slithered her way into a side door of the Grand Ballroom, where she acted as a normal partygoer would at such an event, strolling over to the catering table and blithely picking up a canapé, taking a small nibble as her eyes swept the place. A sharply-dressed, dark haired man took his place beside her, sidling up next to the fruit plates.

"Those are some melons," he quipped. Louise whirled round, about to give him a mouth full of teeth, only to see him proffering some honeydew her way. Colouring, she gritted her teeth and attempted to smile. "Yes! Lovely," she remarked with a tight chuckle, still scanning the immediate area. "Amazing what's in season this time of year." Suddenly, her eyes focused upon one of their targets, a young man who used to be plied by Fish to roofie girls who would show up at her club in order to hoodwink them into working for her. And then, just as suddenly, those same eyes sought out the form of one James Gordon.

The kiss caught him off guard, but only for a moment. He was more than willing to return it but she pulled away before he could. "Yeah." A dumb reply, unable to think logically for the half second before Louise climbed out of the car. He certainly would return it later, he mentally made a note to himself.

Jim, taking less of an effort to hide himself, moved through the front entrance. He lingered a moment to scan the crowd to see if he recognized anyone before moving inside. So far, it was the typical affair of cronies of the underground. Their eyes caught his in passing, quickly quieting any talk of wrongdoing as he pushed past the crowd.

Later inside Jim locks onto the same people as Louise roughly at the same time and is moving in closer to talk to them, though sensing his partner nearby.

Louise stood nearby, and as her eyes finally locked on those of her partner, she smirked to herself; it was never old, flustering him before a big job. Gordon noticed, and quickly averted his eyes, but not before shooting her a glance as guilty as a Boy Scout who'd forgotten to clean the latrines on a camping trip.

Discreetly slipping out her mobile from her clutch bag, the redhead rang Jim. "Paul Woolford...hitting on a blonde at table 36. In a suitably shitty lamé jacket. Fish must've kitted him out for the evening...you know how wonderful her taste is," she growled down the phone. "Seen our other target?"

"No." He comments, glancing over to see table 36, watching silently as he circles the room. He's about to make his final lap around the room where he does spot their target. A woman who looked innocent enough, but that was how she got away with murder.

"I've spotted her. She's by you, getting some 'nibbles' as you like to call them." He assumed she could hear the smile on his face as he makes a playful jab at her dialect. "I'll handle her if you want Woolford." He was hoping Louise might work some of her charm while he used his for Nancy Roddrick.

And she hoped he could hear the snort which greeted his little riposte. "Indeed, but I think packets of Twiglets and prawn cocktail-flavoured crisps would be a bit too 'rough' for this clientele," she cracked.

Taking a breath, the redhead casually turned her head to nab a bit of carrot and houmous, giving the woman in question a polite smile before turning and sauntering away. "Right. You do...well, whatever it is you DO when you flirt; get her on your side. But not too much on your side, I trust," she added in a breezily haughty fashion, reminding him exactly whom he was going home with. "...and I'll work on Woolford."

He found it far too amusing that she remotely considered that he would leave arm in arm with their suspect. Jim definitely had standards!

Making his way to Nancy, he makes small talk, complimenting her dress, "It has a nice design." OK, so he wasn't excellent at pointing out what exactly he liked about it, but it was a compliment nevertheless. Lucky for him, she didn't immediately recognize him as being affiliated with the GCPD right off and fell into casual conversation with him.

"Did you come with a date?" Jim inquired further, in hopes that whoever she might have brought was also someone of interest to them. Wouldn't that be convenient?

Upon Jim catching her eye, Nancy turned around after hearing the well-spoken compliment. "It's vintage Christian Lacroix," she purred, her heavily-lipsticked lips nearly smacking in approval. "And no...I'm not with anyone." PAUSE. "Well. Not really--"

Roddrick cast a glance towards the slimy Woolford, who was currently chatting up his partner. "--unless you want to count him. Kind of a jerk, but he'll do." All this said as Nancy's eyelashes fluttered at Gordon.

"Unless, that is...you're offering?" Red lipstick and glittered cheekbones would be all that Jim saw, Nancy's teeth looking white and sharp, resembling more a shark with expensive lip gloss than a woman in that moment.

"No..." His eyes had been drifting over to where Woolford had been, seeing Louise zoom in on him. Turning back to Nancy, he shakes his head, "Sorry, what makes him a jerk?" He didn't care on any level, but needed to further extend the small talk.

This was definitely the worst part of 'undercover' missions. Sometimes, it was a blessing when people knew who he was, it cut to the chase and he typically got the answers he was looking for.

Louise and Jim's eyes met from across the room, her irises flashing at him the unspoken message that her tactics were working---but a certain brassy blonde interrupted their silent connection.

"He's a total control freak," Nancy complained in a vaguely Jersey accent, feigning upset as the tried to maintain her cover. "Barely lets me out of his sight, even. Trying to come over here to grab some more chips and dip was like pulling teeth," she said, gesturing to him. "And now he's talking to some redheaded floozy. He only ditches me when he wants another girl looking at him. Bet he goes home with her, she looks like a ho with those big boobs and that short skirt." Nancy huffed and adjusted the corseted top of her dress so to appear more buxom.

"I don't think so." Jim's voice wanders off after seeing Louise for a brief moment then shaking her head. "Has he ever made you do something you never wanted to?" Kind of a personal question, but Jim wasn't always the best at being delicate. He hopes it'd get an answer he was looking for.

Or maybe she didn't know who he was yet.

Nancy gave him an odd look, but shrugged and answered him anyway, smacking her gum as she chewed. "Well, there was the one time he wanted to wear a kilt and lipstick while we did it on a shag rug in his den, but..."

Her voice drifted off and she caught Gordon's horrified expression. "Something tells me that's not what you were getting at, honey," she stated, adding, "What did you say your name was, again?" One brow arched neatly as she took a sip of her cocktail.

"No." It was all Jim could utter as he immediately took a healthy gulp of a drink from a waiter that passed by. He didn't even pause to see what it was.

"Who else do you know at this party?" Maybe he could find out if she was connected to anyone else. That certainly would make things easier for Jim and Louise's search.

She turned towards him, an expression of suspicious bewilderment befalling her. "Why the interest in details, mister? It's not like I'm-"

And just then there was a flash of peach as Louise was jostled in the near distance by Woolford, who wrenched her by the arm and escorted her out of the ballroom...PAST their CI, Brianna Price, whose eyes only flickered towards Jim's for a fleeting second before she, too, disappeared into the crowd, never to be heard from again. Clearly, the lavender-haired young informant had chosen which side she was on, whether Woolford forced her hand, or whether she'd gone of her own volition.

Gardiner was able to break free for a moment and bolted towards the main doors, fear flooding her countenance. Jim's phone rang, and even before he answered, the redhead was already shouting into her mobile. "JIM! He's going to the old Army Terminal by Pier 13--it's where all the MDMA+8 is being---"

The line went static.

Edited 2016-09-29 18:20 (UTC)

It didn't take but a moment for Jim to completely ignore his new 'friend' and pushed through the crowd trying to follow where they were taking Louise. The room had become more crowded as the party lasted, making it hard for him to keep track where they might have taken her.

When he finally reaches the hall where he saw them disappear into, his phone rang with a very frantic Louise on the other end. "Where are y--" The line was cut and he left running down the hall to an exit where there's a car tires screeching and pulling away fast as possible.

Shit! Jim dashed to the car they had but realized Louise had the keys, not him. SHIT!

Phoning GCPD headquarters, he reports this and waits for the closest patrol car to pick him up and head to Pier 13.

When Jim arrived at Pier 13, he'd jump out of the patrol car just in time to see Louise's small, spare pistol (the one she had strapped to her thigh underneath her Zelda Fitzgerald get-up) get knocked out of her hand by Woolford. At the sight of Gordon, the headstrong shitbag grabbed the redhead by the curls and placed his semi-automatic at her carotid artery whilst lifting his chin in cocky defiance.

"Ahh," he intoned, the sarcasm evident in just the one syllable. "James Gordon. Boy wonder of the GCPD. Was wondering when you'd get around to, erm...'rescue' your girl." A laugh. "Because she's not. Getting rescued, that is." Louise's phone laid on the ground several paces away, the battery tossed out of it.

"Put your gun down, Woolford, you're surrounded." There were at least 8 other officers who have positioned themselves around Louise and the culprit, waiting for the right time to shoot (~~Because the GCPD is too incompetent to think for themselves~~).

"What good would it do for you to kill her? It'd just add to your list of reasons we're going to arrest you." Jim actually was very concerned for Louise at this point, but he was in hopes maybe something could be negotiated.

Woolford only snorted at Gordon's requests, further jamming the pistol into Gardiner's throat. Louise shot Jim a steady look: DON'T PANIC. Eyeing one of the more qualified officers (~~Let's face it, if the GCPD has such lax security that even Barbara Kean can waltz in unannounced? INCOMPETENT, for certain.~~), she nodded subtlely at him. Catching Woolford unawares, the young officer fired at his ankle. Immediately after, just as the bullet pierced the thug's flesh, Louise's arm came up, bent at the elbow, effectively beaning him in the nose hard, her costume ring crushing it squarely in the middle.

"AHHHHH!" he exclaimed, the pain coursing through him and pouring from his nose in the form of blood as the gun flew out of his hand and he fell to the ground. Cops swarmed him as Gardiner grabbed her gun off the ground as well as her phone. Suddenly, there was a flash of blonde in the near distance. RODDRICK!

She'd come back to fetch the lot of MDMA+8 and get rid of it; quickly, she scurried into the warehouse.

"JIM!" Louise barked a cry to her partner, her eyes frantic as she began to race towards the building.

Well that went better than planned. Jim couldn't help to snicker at Louise's punch to the face, but his eyes followed hers where they saw Roddrick.

"Arrest him, we're going this way!" He dashes after Louise, impressed that she could be so fast in her shoes. They slide in the doors just in time before as they were slammed shut. Only, there wasn't anyone to be seen around them.

"Be careful." Jim muttered to Louise, standing just behind her as he kept his gun poised and ready, searching for Roddrick, "GCPD! Come on out, you're surrounded! Let's keep this nice and simple." Hey, one could hope.

Louise pursed her lips and turned around slightly. 'BE CAREFUL.' "I'm doing my best," she muttered back dryly, shooting him a withering glance.

One could probably hear a pin drop, the warehouse was that deathly silent, and the detective was growing more and more impatient at the continued recalcitrance of their suspect. "He's right, Nancy," she called out, finger on the trigger of her own weapon. "It's over. We know you're trying to cover your tracks. Spare us the agony and just come on out. It's been a hell of a day, and we could use some tea and a sandwich." Her voice was tight, her patience razor-thin. Finally, after what seemed like an hour (but in truth was really only 5 or 10 minutes), Roddrick tentatively stepped out from behind some oil barrels, hands in the air.

"There's more of us...it doesn't just stop with me and Woolford," she said with insistence, the phony Jersey accent gone and a neutral one in its place; clearly, she'd been playing a part inside the venue. "Mooney's got loads of us in position. You'll never get to the end of it, you'll never find her. We don't even know where she is, so you may as well give up now." Nancy's tone was cocksure and almost flaunting in nature.

Did she just say ‘tea and sandwhich’? It was these little quirks that made Jim love her. Sometimes she could still catch him off guard by a little quip here and there, entirely harmless.

When Nancy came out from behind oil barrels, Jim had his gun aimed at her ready to go if she made any sudden, careless moves. “What else is new?” He replied at her warning. There were always others in the cracks. If it’s not one thing, it’s another in this city and he wasn’t naïve enough to believe they could all be stopped.

“C’mon on out.” He shakes his gun, motioning her to come out further.

Nancy tutted softly, grimacing a bit as she made her way, hands-up, towards the waiting officers--two of them--who'd just arrived as backup. They grabbed her and loaded her into the paddywagon as Jim and Louise swept the rest of the warehouse, finding no one else, save for several sample packets of MDMA+8, which the redhead scooped up into evidence baggies posthaste.

Once she'd delivered everything to forensics, Louise brushed her dress off and glanced at Gordon dryly.

"Mmm," she murmured. "I don't think I've seen quite enough excitement tonight, Detective Gordon. You?" She paused for dramatic effect, hands tossing themselves up into the air. "I don't know about you, but I could go for an Indian, or some Greek. I'm bloody fucking famished, thanks to these two utter pillocks."

Her eyes may have held some steel, but they held nothing else but love for her other half.

"Greek it is." He finished signing off on the last of the paperwork while glancing up to catch her eye and noticing the 'dramatics'.

"My treat. You've made yourself up, we should go somewhere nice." Somehow they managed not to utterly destroy their clothes one way or another during this whole time. Though he's still surprised her feet weren't gone in her heels. There were some mysteries Louise had on him still.

Once a restaurant was picked out, Jim followed her lead to a table far in the back to avoid any distractions and hopefully keep things private. That was a luxury these days.

She was, to be certain, dressed to kill that night. And the running? PLEASE. Gardiner had had more than a bit of experience back at Scotland Yard--well, at least enough to know to wear expensive gel insoles in those stilettos. (*wink*)

Once they'd been seated at Tasso's (only the best Greek fine dining experience in Gotham.), Louise smoothed the folds of her vintage attire and draped the napkin across her lap as the menus and wine list were placed in front of them. Squinting slightly, she perused the many offerings.

"Care to split an order of hummus and dolmades, love?" The redhead glanced up, clear azure meeting sea blue.

How funny was it that just an hour or two previously, they're aiming guns and ready to shoot to kill if necessary. And now they're sitting across from each other eating a meal so casually like nothing ever happened earlier.

"Sure." He agreed, taking a sip of a glass of water. And the ordering of food seemed so completely normal.

"When I was speaking to Nancy at the party, she had some interesting commentary about your appearance." Jim couldn't help to tease Louise. He had nearly forgotten about it, but sitting down and being in her company simply reminded him. "She was convinced you were going to take Woolford home tonight."

Sad part was, it was perfectly normal. For Louise. She could switch on and off like a nightlight; and now, especially when she was across from the man she adored more than the cop life itself. Taking the whole of Jim's statement in, delicate brows swept up in amusement at hearing Roddrick's assessment. Snorting, she shook her head and leaned forward. "Jealousy. SO unbecoming." Scoffing a bit, she took a measured sip from her water. "WOOLFORD? Hardly my type." Eyes lifting to meet Gordon's, Louise's irises glinted mischievously. A beat, and she waited until the waiter was close by before ordering two shots of ouzo in perfect Greek. Holding her hand up, the redhead demurred as the small glasses were placed in front of them.

"I'm afraid this is a bit of a tradition in Crete," she murmured, holding one shot glass of clear, burning liquid up with her fingers. "I spent my gap year in Greece; I'm a bit sentimental for the place. And after THIS night? I believe we're due a bit of it. OPA!" she said, slightly exclaiming the last bit, a mysterious smile upon her face.

GCPD Goes Undercover.

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"STOP, OR THE GINGER NUT GETS IT!" LOL

LOL

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