Poker Faces (Harvey, Open)

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Vic sat at her desk filling out some apparently important paper work. Her hat rested on the corner of her desk. Her desk was rather organized with a few frayed edges about it, so to speak.
Her keyboard was on a stand making it stand next to her desk at a ninety degree angle. As she filled out her paperwork with her left hand her right hand was absent mindedly plucking away at a slow pretty little rif. Occasionally she would hum or be heard muttering the words to it.

Next to her hat, facing toward her, was picture of her with her parents and brother. Her Dad was in his Texas Rangers giddup as was she while her mother was in a suit with her FBI badge pinned to her lapel. Her brother, Darren, was wearing slacks, a nice shirt, with his badge on his waist. They looked like they were outdoors at something. They were all holding their family issue gold plated Magnums in the air, discharging them.
Next to it was a Houston Astros baseball, a knife sharpener, and picture of her and her rother on their police mounts back when she was a Houston beat cop she and her brother went on horseback for different events. On the wall behind her was a certificate from University of Houston for her Bachelors in Criminal Justice and next to it her certificate for her Masters in Law from the University of Texas. Below her degrees were mug shots and what she called ‘perp maps.’ Her partner and her shared the corner of the room, their desks facing eachother. They had all kinds of notes, news articles, pictures, and whatever else they could use up on the wall.

Their little corner looked busy and very much was. Ever since she started this job Vic had to admit that Gotham was a very colorful and personable town, as were her coworkers. It had taken her about a month just to get the city and it’s layout down. Houston was a pretty spread out area in General while all of Gotham was on this island. It was a little weird for her, but she was happy to be in a port city, she picked up on the docks and their structure pretty fast.

It was weird hearing so many accents in one place. It was good, but sometimes she would have to ask witnesses or whoever to slow down a little bit so she could understand what they were saying. In her home state it was handy to know some Spanish and it was handy to know it in Gotham, too. She couldn’t write much down in the language but she could speak it well enough for work.

It had been threatening to rain for most of the day and it finally let loose half an hour ago. The thunder rolled in the distance but one particular crack sounded much closer and it roared through the slightly open window nearby. Vic instinctively put left hand on the Megastar under her right arm, still tapping away at the keys. She slipped her hand away after being initially startled. Most of the other detectives in the room had at least been jarred by it. She looked around the room, she was only a line or so away from being done with her paperwork anyway. She took about two more minutes to finish it up and then threw herself backward further into her chair, sighing.

She had a thought just as she leaned back. She turned to face her keyboard and started tapping out on her keys, fully focused on them now instead of just hitting notes. She started playing the tune of Poker Face by Lady Gaga. She looked over at Harvey and played, intentionally trying to annoy the man.

“Ma-Ma-Ma, Ma-Ma-Ma. Hey Harv! Guess what you can’t read, can’t read my, can’t read my POKER FACE! UHHHNNNN!!!”

Nothing to lighten up the rainy day like annoying the giant hulking man at the desk next to yours.

"Seriously, we should go outside, I'm done with my paperwork, I could use a smoke out on the stoop. If you don't go with me I'm going to keep playing MY MY MY MY MY PO PO POKER FACE for you."

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

Harvey had come in a little late after dealing with some scared punk running from shadows and putting a dent in the hood of the Lieutenant's classic Impala. He wasn't looking forward to the estimate for the repair, and never made it to the crime scene he was en route to. He was called back to HQ to interrogate a suspect on a case he was already working. All of this was last night and he slept a couple hours before he had to be back in to work. He was a zombie today, even skipped his morning jelly-filled, but coffee.....by the time Vic was in mid stride on her work, he'd had so much coffee one would swear he was sweating it as he tried to do his own work.

His desk was quite different from Lt. Valentine's. Papers were scattered all over the place, many with coffee or food stains on them. Somehow and many in the department say it's a miraculous gift, Bullock could find anything in a blink on his desk. If he had your file on his day off, you're spending an extra day in lockup until he comes back on duty only because no one else can break his system and find anything in his mounds of clutter.

Under the heaps of papers was his phone, a framed pic of his mother who he cherished dearly. There was a framed pic of one of his heroes, Humphry Bogart, or more specifically, Sam Spade as played by the actor. Beginning to give off a delightful aroma was his forgotten lunch from a couple days ago, and his keyboard. papers partially covered some of the keys but he expertly would slide the paper aside as he typed with one finger striking the target key with no mistakes.

The phone rang and he answered, "Gotham City, 12th Precinct, Lt. Bullo...oh 'ello Mrs. Dibert, How are you today?" He looked to Vic rolling his eyes. Mrs. Dilbert was an elderly lady who liked to call and speak to no one but Harvey on a daily basis.

"You don't say? Really? Is Whiskers still stuck up there? Did you call the Fire departm...uh huh. uh huh. No I... Well yeah bu.... I'm not dispatch, Mrs. Dilbert. You need 911. No ma'am. I can't call them for you. You give them a call and the fireman will come rescue Whiskers. Okay.... yeah .......okay..okay have a good one Mrs. Dilbert. I'm hangin' up now. Bye. Bye....bye." *click*

He sighed and leaned back in his chair it squeaked under the pressure of his immense frame. this was just as Valentine started her Poker Face bit, and he immediately stood up.

"Awright! Awright! You win! I surrender! Outside!"
He reached into the depths of his paperwork and pulled out his smokes. Grabbing his hat & trench without even looking as he left the office.

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Vic sprung from her chair slipping her coat on. She put her bandero hat on and walked outside to the stoop outside with Harvey.

Today she wore dark blue wranglers, black and blue boots, a black duster, blue blouse, and her bandero hat was black with a silver and blue concho band. Her hair floated in the wind a bit as they stood outside. It was very long, six inches or so down past her shoulder.

There was enough cover over it so they could stand and smoke without getting rained on. As she pulled a pack of Lucky Strikes out she began patting her pockets looking for a lighter after a moment she reached into her blouse and pulled it from her brassiere. She lit her own cigarette as well as whatever Harvey was smoking.

"Man, this has been a crazy month, movin' to Gotham and trying to get the lay out down. It's a complicated and intricate city, Bull. Now that I got the most of it down it's high time you show me what's really good 'round here, sug."

She took a few drags from her cigarette and looked out at the city around them. She put her lighter in one of the pockets of her coat. Her cigarette hung from her lip while she pulled her badge off her hip.

"The thangs we do..."

She put her badge back on her hip and turned more fully toward Harvey. She had noticed earlier in the day how haggard he looked, normally she wouldn't say anything, but over the last month she's come to appreciate the detective. He may be a little sloppy, a little loud, and a little grumpy sometimes, but he was good police. He was pretty funny, too.

"Hey, ya ain't lookin so hot today, Bull. You looked like you was up the anty on the coffee intake today. You doin' alright, sug?

Her off colored eyes flickered concern and friendliness. Yeah, Vic thought Harvey was a pretty right on dude, no use in lettig him burn himself out.

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

He took a long drag from his Camels and slowly let the smoke out through a low sigh. He leaned against the wall and tilted his fedora back before looking at his partner taking another drag. As the smoke exited his lungs he spoke.

"Dis town's fulla surprises. Honestly you don' hafta go lookin' for them either. there's 'nough cracked pots and thugs out there ta find you. That's even when yer bein' careful. It's a hard town."

He walked beside her and looked out over his home the rain covering it. Water is known to usually replenish and renew, but not here. The dirt of Gotham could never be washed away no matter what any cop, or cape did to try to stop it. Harvey knew this, and he knew that soon Valentine would too.

"Ain't much good here. Except a good day's work, a good smoke, and a good drink, doll."

He took another smoke and let it escape his lungs again.
"Somethin's out there. Dunno what. Might be that Man bat, might be worse. I took a shot at it last night. Might'a winged it. It was stormin' and dark. I'm willin' ta bet it'll be comin' back 'round."

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Vic turned to him again and put her hand on the wall behind him, causing herself to be stand closer to him than she's ever stood infront of him. She had to look up to look him in the eyes. She still had her cigarette handing off her lip, she used her right hand to take it frim her ice, but still gestured at him with it.

"I asked you if you were allright, Detective, and you didn't answer my question. You've looked like hell all day and when I ask that question I'd like a direct answer. I know you are probably fine, just tired from the escitement of last night and you'll tell me not to worry."

Vic pushed off the wall and got out of Harvey's face. She continued to smoke once again and tried again, looking over at him in the corner of her vision.

"You alright, Harvey?" she asked him. That was the first time since she had started working with him that she had called him by his first name. She rarely told people her real first name to avoid the bullshit she'd get about it. After a few more drags off her cigarette she dropped it in a little cigarette receptacle next to them. The Texas Slur in her voice dropped, though the twang to it remained when she got serious with him. Her breath smelled like her Lucky Strike and rasberry jam.

She looked back to him, straightening her posture, folding her arms and giving him one of her more stern looks, waiting on his answer.

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

She woke him up a bit when she leaned in. The motion actually caused shocked him into absentmindedly straighten his tie.

He looked at her and wanted to fib and tell her he was fine, "Not really no. There was a kid this thing was chasin'. No idea why he was in too much shock to talk an' I was in too big a hurry to get to that murder scene last night. I hate not knowin'. I dunno if he was a random meal or if that thing was after 'im for some reason. No tellin' in this joint."

He dropped his smoke extinguishing it under his shoe then he looked to her, "This could be big, or nothin' and there ain't no Bat to call on. He's been MIA."

He sighed and removed his fedora running his fingers through his thick black hair.
"We better get back in."

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Vic folded her arms just after looking at Harvey and pushing the brim of her hat up a little to take the shadow of it off her face. She quirked a brow at him with a rather unconvinced look about her.

"I don't believe in fairy tales, Detective, and I ain't gonna see none come true any time soon from the way you talk."

She brought a heavy hand down on his left shoulder as she stepped past him and swung the door with ease. Eventually after all the little turns to get back to their communal office space she would find herself filing away her paperwork for the better part of ten minutes. She then took another five to straighten up anything else left on her desk and checked through her drawers for something to do.

Fortyfive more minutes, she thought as she looked at her wrist watch. Being all wrapped up with things she went ahead and turned back to her keyboard. She tapped away at another song, she was more interested in playing the piano part itself, occasionally mutttering a few lyrics to herself.

"...Goodbye yellow brick road, where the dogs of society howl..."

She played away at that for a few more minutes. After that she pulled a little red harmonica from her desk. She walked to a window and opened it more watching the rain fall for a minute. She played a tune on her harmonica rather lazily and after a few minutes she possed and continued to look out the window as she spoke to Harvey.

"You know who I think I was in another life, Bull? Napoleon Bonaparte. I wanted the world."

Vic went back to playing her harmonica. She noticed a few of the other detectives that walked by seemed to smirk at her for playing harmonica. It sort of fit that image of her they had in their heads, you know, that southerner sort of image people have ready. However, she let them think of her that way, they seemed to get some sort of kick out of it. And it was always fun to be the new sheriff in town, anyway, especially overseas.

That was one of the first things she noticed once she started working in Gotham, lots of jaded cops. they had good reason to be jaded, but being bitter never made anyone a better cop. It turned good cops into half assed cops, in her own opinion. Making them laugh occasionally had a definite effect on their moods and attitudes.

"After I was Napolean I was Theodore Roosevelt, the greatest American to ever live."

She leaned against the inside of the window frame watching the rain and Gotham play together. They seemed as if they were made for eachother. She glanced over at Bullock for a second and then back to Gotham.

"I bet you were Winston Churchill."

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

Harvey had made it back to his desk and sat down and stared at his paperwork for a moment before recalling where he was. He finally found the day old lunch and trashed it. He began comparing files he had to computer files and added information to the database. He was a horrible typist. He had added a sound effect to his computer that each keystroke would resemble the sound of a typewriter clacking away with the occasional chiming *ding* as it reached the margin.

Valentine's harmonica playing eased him a bit, and he liked it to an old sax being played solo in his favorite black & white mystery thrillers. He smirked when she commented about him possibly had been Churchill.

"Nah. I was Patton.....or Khan."

He smiled at his remark, then thought back to years past when his badge was a bit tarnished and worked his connections to the Underground, taking kickbacks, and held his own personal vendetta against The Batman. He still had no love lost for the vigilantes of Gotham, but when he changed his ways he learned to tolerate them and accepted how valuable they were to Gotham.

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Vic laughed a little at his comment and just as she started to play again she heard a loud bang outside. Without a moment of hesitation she yanked her hat off her desk as she launched herself out of the window, catching the ladder of the fire escape and riding down with it to the pavement. The crash of the metal against the stone vibrated through her hands and feet coursing through her body unpleasantly. She pushed herself off the ladder and began running down the alleyway.

She had forgotten her radio, so whatever happened she was on her own. She didn't draw her weapon yet, avoiding putting people walking about into a panic. Eventually she made it to the source of the bang...

About ten minutes later, she was walking back to the station answering a call from dispatch to her cell phone asking her if she was alright or needed assistance.

"No, false alarm, Betty, but thanks anyway."

As she walked back to the station, drenched in the rain, thunder cracked again. She carried a bag of M-80s, a type of firecracker illegal in most places because they were notorious for blowing off fingers of ill-fated teenagers.

When she got back to HQ she spilled the contents of the bag on her desk. Mostly M-80s with a few cherry bombs and black cats. She looked through them and then dumped them back in the bag and put them in her desk. They were hers now, damn it.

"Teenagers. Been a few years since I mistook fireworks for gunshots."

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

When she vanished out the window after the loud bang, all Bullock did was laugh knowing what it was. When others came in to find out what was so funny he couldn't stop to tell them. Tears were crawling down his cheeks and his sides were hurting.

He started up again when she came in seeing her soaked almost falling out of his chair.

"Watch out for that first step out the window!"

His comment only made him laugh harder. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Make it stop!"

He came over and peeked in the bag, "Ooooh nice stash. Oh, almost meant to tell ya on the first day. Sound travels bad, bouncin' off the buildings, and all. So you might mistake uh...."

He snickered and hurried back to his desk.

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Without missing a beat she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cigarettes, lighting one, her hair and everything drenched. She smoked the first drag and blew the smoke at Harvey.

She let him make fun of her, leaning back and taking it. After he went back to his desk she pulled a few black cats out and lit the fuse with her cigarette. She tossed them at him

POP POP POP POP POP POP POP, they went as they flew at Harvey. She threw them aiming for them to land on his lap.

She had pulled an ash tray out and continued to smoke her cigarette as she got out another string of black cats. She looked over at Harvey.

"You want to tango, yankee? Open your trap again and I'll let you dance a duet with these M-80s and Cherry Bombs."

She took another drag off her cigarette and exhaled the smoke creating a haze between her and Harvey. She glared at him, daring him to say what she wanted to hear.

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

The exploding firecrackers threw him off balance toppling his chair backwards sending his massive frame crashing to the floor.

"WHAT th'...."

He got up and glared at her and looked out as rest of the force was watching them intently. He rolled a sleeve that collapsed back up and walked slowly over to her his nose meeting hers.

"A couple a' years ago I'da said bring it. Now all I am gonna say is that you are destroying police evidence....Detective. Take a long think on that."

He went back to his desk and noticed his coffee had been spilled he muttered under his breath grabbed his cup, walked out slamming the door to get some more.

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

She kept a straight face while he was still in the room, even through him falling over in his chair. She actually felt slightly guilty about that, but she had to maintain her poker face. Though, when he lost it over his spilled coffee she was working hard not to break her poker face, so to speak.

Once he left the room she chuckled slowly and smugly. She looked at her watch once again noticing their shift was about five minutes from being up. She stashed a few of the firecrackers in her pocket and put them into a new place to hide them from Harvey.

She followed Harvey into the next room a moment later and put her poker face back on.

"Bull, I think we oughta settle this the right way. We either fight or we drink. That's the only two ways I settle this sorta thing."

She put her hand forth to him for him to shake, expecting him to agree on a fight or drinks, honestly, she figured she could probably take a lot of the other Gotham Cops in a fight, but Harvey would probably whip her ass. That's what made him a good partner.

"What'd ya say, pard'?"

[Lt. Harvey Bullock]

He took a longing look at the fresh brew he just poured himself as if giving it a mental eulogy in not being enjoyed as intended. Then he looked back up at her and narrowed his eyes looking her up and down sizing her up. He sat his styrofoam cup down and cracked his neck taking a deep breath he took her hand in his mit and shook it.

"Yer buyin'. I'll get my coat."

He walked off and headed back towards the office.

"I don't hit a lady."

His back was to her and he smirked wondering if placing her gender over her badge would get under her skin.

He grabbed his hat, and coat, holstering his piece in it's place at his shoulder. He looked over his desk briefly taking a mental picture as to where everything was and turned to look at her.

"So we goin'?"

[Lt. Vic Valentine]

Her nostrils flared when he called her a lady. It didn't matter, they were both cops. Nothing fueled her blood more than a comment like that. She started to reconsider her thoughts on whether or not he could take her. She figured he could piss her off enough that she'd be too furious to not give him a run for his money.

After he grabbed his coat and asked if they were going she nodded and madesure she had what she needed.

"Yeah, let's roll. I'll drive, General Houston's got a dry shirt for me."