GCPD Goes Undercover.

[doomed_copper]

Louise checked her makeup one more time in the large mirrored hallway of the gala venue--it was a 1920's flapper/gangster theme, and she wanted to be sure she looked the part. Smoothing down her short column dress, she gingerly fingered the gentle waves of her period-inspired hairdo whilst she awaited Jim's arrival. Not only was their CI going to be at the 'fundraiser', a front for one of Fish Mooney's new cartels, but both their targets would be, as well--two of Fish's newest 'arteries'. Gardiner nervously cleared her throat as she discreetly checked her watch. Eight-oh-one. Gordon was precisely one minute late, and the redhead was growing increasingly nervous.

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[doomed_copper]

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.

[breakstherules]

"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.

[doomed_copper]

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.

[breakstherules]

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."

[doomed_copper]

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.