doomed_copper | GCPD: Exiled & Rogue (AU, S2/S3 Hybrid 'Verse)

GCPD: Exiled & Rogue (AU, S2/S3 Hybrid 'Verse)

The bar was nearly empty as Louise idly polished a tumbler she'd only just finished polishing a half-hour before; glancing up at the clock to the right of the dumbwaiters, she noticed it had only gone half-two. Sighing, she replaced the glass atop the small pyramid she'd been building behind the bar when the door to the place creaked open at last.

FINALLY. For God's sake, a customer. At least, this assured her next hour or so would fly by quickly, especially if they kept her busy ordering drinks---and then, she looked up.

JIM.

Tossing her bar towel over her shoulder, there was a small hint of a smirk tugging at one edge of her mouth as she strolled over and stood in front of him.

"Finally come to visit me at my not-so-brand-spanking-new place of employ, have you?" she quipped to her ex-partner-turned-bounty hunter. Taking a sponge from the sink below, she began wiping down the wood surface, assessing him. "You need a shave. Last time I saw you, it looked more of a 5 o'clock shadow. This? More like half-past eight," she deadpanned, though there was still a glint of a smile in her aqua irises.

It hurt, seeing him; that she couldn't deny. After they'd both been dismissed by Barnes, his bitterness at both the system and the fact that things turned markedly worse on his watch (Indian Hills escapees, Dr Strange doing a number on his psyche, anyone?) led him far astray from Louise. He'd all but disappeared, taking the law into his own hands, his dogged conscience leading him over his heart so he could 'fix his mistakes'. Of course, he didn't want her to get hurt by his vigilantism, most likely because he knew she'd only follow him into the darkness; but it was cold comfort to the redhead, who'd only recently begun to use the entirety of her bed, and not just the one side.

Taking the bottle of Jameson off the shelf, Louise poured him a double measure and set it in front of him as she leaned against the till.

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He had walked past this bar far many times than he could count, but this was the first time he went inside. He had meant to, really he had, but a mix of emotions prevented him from doing so until everything was made right.

Bitter at the system and having his mind played with by Hugo Strange, Jim had disappeared into the night. He slept at odd hours of the day, often spending the nights prowling the streets and following leads down dark alleys and out of town excursions, racking up an inventory of criminals for the GCPD the last few months. Hell, he was better at it now than he was as a detective.

"Hey." He says, barely catching her eyes and a smile tugging at one corner as he took a seat at the bar watching her pour a glass out for him. She even remembered what he liked to drink.

"Been here the whole time?" He knew the answer to that, but he decided to go the small talk route, wanting to keep things simple.

Of course she remembered his drink. She loved him. It was the LEAST of things she recalled about James Gordon.

"You act as though I've been anywhere else," she riposted back, pouring a smaller measure for herself and taking a tiny sip, her chin lifting a fraction. "You look good, however; far better than when you boarded with me." It was a joke, hearkening back to their time spent very nearly living together and ordering as much takeaway as they could...even with Louise's efforts at learning how to cook, work made both Jim and herself lazy, and they'd relied on the delivery boy more times than not.

"I trust you're drinking kale juice with bee pollen and ginger," she continued, "...otherwise, what could account for the twinkle in your eyes and the lovely pallor of your cheeks?" A joke. CLEARLY.

Kale juice, bee pollen, and ginger were the last things on Jim's mind, completely missing the joke. "Nah, been running around here looking for someone." He comments, taking the glass and decided to sip at it rather than shoot it back quickly. He recognized it might be too early for that right now. Maybe.

He's quiet and entirely sucking at this whole thing called conversation before he finally breaks the deafening awkwardness of the situation, "Do you miss it?" Meaning being a detective, and he quickly rephrases that so she didn't think he wanted to talk about his failure at maintaining relationships, "-- the GCPD? Do you like working here? I'm sorry I haven't come by much."

He acted like he didn't know she was here, but from time to time he'd walk by in the evening (making it less likely she would see him) to see her through the windows. Just to know she was alright.

A short, tepid laugh. "Of course you are." Louise took a sip and trained her eyes upon him. "You always were. The line between bounty hunter and cop? Momentously thin. Didn't you see Midnight Run? De Niro made a powerful case in that regard." Her smile turned a scant more Cheshire at the quip.

But then Gordon just had to go for the jugular.

The redhead shrugged. "Nah...," she replied. "I'm practically making double the cash here as I was on the beat." Which was true, but her 'feelings' were a lie nonetheless; she craved being back out there, hunting for blood, seeing righteousness win the day.

Stopping her chat, Louise's eyes flickered back up to meet her former partner's. Loathe to admit it, she'd actually caught a glimpse of him in the bar window. Once. About three months ago. Averting her glance so he'd not meet it, Louise waited until he turned away from the glass before she ran up to it, watching his gait and memorising every detail before he'd disappeared into the dark.

He wonders if she's lying, then realizes it's been too long if he couldn't tell anymore. Regret started to sink in and he forgets about any pacing and downs the rest of the glass.

"Maybe you can help." He starts digging through his jacket pocket and pulls out some crinkled papers, one was a newspaper clipping of a tall, oafish man with shaggy black hair. "Been looking for him." He taps the paper, "Seen him? Or know anything?"

The crestfallen expression which beset Gordon, followed by the rapid draining of the tumbler, was not lost on Louise, and she began to reach a hand out to touch him--but then he produced the ratty Gotham Gazette clipping, and the former detective found her arm dropping back to her side, her hands wringing themselves slightly with unrequited nervous energy.

But AT LAST, she had something to focus on.

Her azure eyes narrowed in their usual fashion when she was concentrating upon something related to work, and she picked up the black and white piece of paper, scrutinising it carefully.

"He was in here two nights ago. Ordered whiskey, neat." Louise glanced up at him. "Just like you do." Her eyes held the knowledge, but couldn't ignore their unfinished business.

“Two nights ago?” Jim inquires, thinking about on his mental timetable. “That’s when he robbed a convenient store.” It must’ve happened right after he was in here.

With a closed fist, Jim pounds the bar, though not hard enough to elicit any pain. His teeth were gritted and he was obviously irritated. “I was so close to getting him!” He growled. He hated when he was just one or two steps behind a crook.

Perhaps this was also a reaction to cover up that he’s surprised she remembered what he had liked, though his tastes had hardly changed. “Maybe I should get a new drink.” He offers her a hesitant smile.

The redhead's brow furrowed as she studied him carefully, noting the pent-up agitation in his entire stance--the way his knuckles flexed themselves, his teeth set on edge, lips pursed into a tight line. Same old James Gordon, she thought, ONLY WORSE.

Nodding once, Louise turned away and set her attention to the bar wall, containing shelves upon shelves of various varieties of alcohol. Selecting bottle after bottle, his former partner in everything but name poured small measures into a shaker as though she were a scientist tinkering in a lab. Finally, satisfied with what she'd concocted, Louise placed the cap upon the shaker and mixed it gently, tossing a glance over her shoulder at him. Grabbing a delicate goblet off the top shelf, she plunked two ice cubes inside it and poured the frothy, princess-pink liquid over it. Picking up a tiny paper umbrella on her way back over, she balanced it inside the glass and placed the whole lot in front of Gordon.

"Your new drink. 'Fuck Me Gently With A Chainsaw'. It may not look like much, but it's an accurate reflection of your life." Louise leaned back, folded her arms and smirked. Check and mate. The former detective never wasted an opportunity for well-placed commentary; surely her old partner could appreciate the gallows humour? It wasn't as though the gruff former officer had a shortage of ready sardonic observations himself, after all.

He hadn't paid attention to her during the mixing process, opting to add some notes in a small notebook he carried with him until a glass containing the princess-pink drink was slid towards him. He looks up in time for her to give him the name of it, finally breaking his hardened shell.

"Thanks." There's a true and genuine smile as he accepts it. Granted it looked like thinned out Pepto-Bismol, but he was man enough to drink it regardless. ;)

The taste was surprisingly pleasant after he takes his first sip. OK, this was actually pretty good. "You're good at this. Even with finding names for it."

Louise gave a slight, muted snort at his quip, even if she was mildly amused at his obvious enjoyment of the drink. "Because the name of it is precisely what's become of you since we parted ways."

Pulling up a stool next to the cash register, she slid onto it and leaned over, her elbows resting upon the darkened wood of the bar. Her auburn hair had been swept up into a loose ponytail, but at this time of day, several tendrils had shaken themselves loose from it and it was obvious how tired she was. Reaching out a hand, Louise placed her fingers atop his, effectively stilling them from jotting one more note.

"Missed you," she said at last. "Black doesn't really suit you...unless you're Roy Orbison, in which case I'd say go wild." She smiled softly, lopsidedly at Jim, and it was evident how much she still cared for him, even in those short sentences.

"I've become a chainsaw?" His eyebrows rose slightly at the comment, teasing her. Though he knows exactly what she's talking about.

She pulls up a stool and her fingers tenderly reach out and touch his, replying with another quip. "It's easy to wash." He replied, finally offering her a genuine smile and flipping his hands under they're palm up and holding hers.

"I know. I've missed you too." He replies, being completely honest. "I know it's been a long time." He was completely to blame, and naively he thought he could protect her by removing himself from her life.

Louise rolled her eyes wordlessly at his jocular, almost too-literal sense of humour. It definitely had been a while since they'd been together if he was still able to get a rise out of her. But once his warm hands slid themselves up to grasp hers in a loving gesture, all was forgotten as her heart managed to thaw a dozen degrees, and before she could fathom what she was doing, she reached across the bar and pulled him into a kiss--tentative at first before settling into it. One hand broke free from his to gently trace lines down his cheek, brushing stubble and over the fine wrinkles which defined the effects of his life.

After a few moments, Louise pulled away gently and nestled her forehead against his.

"Mmm, indeed," she murmured in agreement.

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GCPD: Exiled & Rogue (AU, S2/S3 Hybrid 'Verse)

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