Originally going to be more of piece about the four officers and they're difference, turned out to focus more of the grinning Alcana and the mystery behind the smile. Alcana is the son of Sonja Alcana, once Gotham detective, once leader of the Batwoman trio – like his mother he's a brilliant detective, unlike her, he's not a vigilante but that doesn't stop people from thinking that.
This is different to GCPF – Gordon Prodigies, because that's very much from Duquesne's P.O.V and this is Alcana's. Maybe Bullock or Sanchez's next. But where GP took place during CampionSayn's timeline, this is earlier to where Batman (Terry) first turned up.
To CampionSayn, if I can get forgiveness for the extreme latness - an extention on my previous GCPF Piece.
GCPF – Past and Present
A few weeks after Batman's reappearance
It was half past ten in Gotham Central Police Station, more specifically Major Crime, Special Circumstances Team. For once all of the detectives were in, resting at their tables as they staggered through mountain after mountain of digital paper work. Alcana, Duquesne, Sanchez and Bullock's desks were all inter connected and were the closest the Commissioner's rooms. The reason for that, most officers whispered, was that they were Gordon's officers, her most favoured and most trusted, so she liked to keep them close to her.
In truth, that was not an unrealistic guess. Barbara Gordon was a coldish woman, whose determination and perfectionist traits tended to either make or break an officer's career. And it couldn't be doubted that not one of those four detectives had lost a case since they had entered her department. Yet to look at them, you might not guess they were Gotham's most decorated officers.
Alcana was the youngest and most inexperienced of the group, at least by comparison to the others. In his mid to late twenties, he was also the most misleading. He was funny, a would-be womaniser, a slacker, yet the amount of unpaid work he put into his job when he was on a case was probable the only reason his partner hadn't yet murdered him and buried the body. He was his mother's son, though many missed it.
In her late twenties, Duquesne was likely the most terrifying of all of them. A slightly obsessive, perfectionist who refused to let any one of her bad guys go, her zealous traits was counterbalanced by her need to know the details and her sympathies with her victims. Where Alcana was everyone's friend, Duquesne's private life was completely unknown, except perhaps to her partner.
Bullock and Sanchez had a similar yet distinctly different relationship – where Alcana and Duquesne were rarely seen apart, Sanchez and Bullock were never together. Yet they knew what the other was up to at all times, like they were connected by some strange supernatural mind connection.
Bullock, like Duquesne, was terrifying to meet at first, but where Bullock's kinder nature put most people at ease after a while (unless he took a dislike to them) Duquesne's scowling, irritancy tended to still unsettle people long after she started to tolerate them.
Sanchez was probably the only man in the world, aside from Alcana who most counted lucky to still be alive, who would ever dare to tease Duquesne. Bullock didn't, but that was because he didn't know how to laugh either. Overly tall, it was comical to see the two detectives, Duquesne being the shortest in the team, arguing across the room. Sanchez was light hearted certainly, but not a comedian and was still very serious with his job. He was the more human side to Bullock's no-nonsense old style approach.
Together, they were the most potent team Barbara Gordon could ever put together.
"He's been in the office for over an hour," Alcana commented lightly, not looking up from the Dig-Pad he was tapping away at. For a second, Sanchez's eyes flicker to across the two tables to where Alcana (and Gordon's office door) was sitting but his fingers didn't stop typing. The other two didn't even twitch in response, acting as if they hadn't heard.
"I imagine the Commissioner's not happy about them being here." Duquesne picked up another one of the Pads to cross reference. To her left Sanchez almost smirked under his breath.
"You mean you're not happy there getting involved." His eyes didn't twitch as Duquesne glared at him from the corner of her eyes.
Bullock's eyes twitched and his lips thin painfully, "No one's happy I.A are here, Sanchez."
Sighing, Sanchez rolled his eyes as even Alcana looked grim. Of them all, he was the one who feared (though they'd never admire it) the least – after all, he was the only one that Internal Affairs hadn't had a screaming fit over his acceptance into the academy. Everyone knew Internal Affairs were just waiting with bated breath to get the children of two once vigilantes and the best/worst cop in the history of Gotham Central Police Force.
It was a shame Duquesne, Alcana and Bullock had never so much as put a toe out of line in I.A's line of vision.
Humming under her breath, Duquesne stretched and tapped her empty coffee cup pointed across the table. Alcana arched an eyebrow, a ghost of his devil-may-care-but-I-don't smile stretched over his face. He put his Digi-Pad down, "I'm getting coffee, who wants some?"
Sanchez and Bullock grunted in union and kept on tapping away at their paper-nightmares.
Running a hand through his messy hair, Alcana stood up stretching the ach out of his muscles. Grabbing the mugs on the table, he walks around the tables, passed the watching I.A officers, tripping over thin air right in front of them in a way, only the rustic ginger could pull off. Staggering, and ignoring the tired snorts from the other officers, he only just made it to the door to the 'Kitchen' in time to hear, quietly, Duquesne's hiss, "What is That suppose to meant Sanchez?"
Within seconds, Duquesne was on her feet, altering between shouting at Sanchez and spitting curses in Spanish at Bullock's, who was sitting with his face in his hands to stop himself from hitting Sanchez. Sanchez, the nutter that he was, was leaning back in his chair, calmly but with his Cheshire cat's grin, twisting her words and spouting taunts until Duquesne was either going to attack him or burst into flames. The eyes of the whole Major Crimes department was on them, and I.A was already moving towards them, afraid Duquesne was about to commit a felon in a room full of officers that he'd get the blame for. Everyone else just watched, because really, Sanchez deserves to be slapped for mentioning that last time Duquesne got the coffee and because it was free entertainment.
No one notices Alcana enter the 'Kitchen' nor do they notice him shutting the door and locking it -which is the whole point. Dropping the mugs onto the table, flicking the maker on Alcana jumped onto the counter. Moving so his back was to the wall, he traced his fingers over the space between the wall and the window. A rough patch, like damp, signals where there metal wall ends and the small square of 'cost effective' plaster that covers the space between the beams are. A small tug and it swings open.
Smirking, Alcana picks up the small ear piece and screws it into his ear. Reaching further in, he taps the surveillance equipment to activate it. A few weeks ago, the Commissioner is a fit of what some of the department call paranoia but which the rest felt was wise, had her whole rooms swept for 'bugs'. Then she swept it herself and removed all the others. Some might find it strange, or disturbing, that the four had bugged their boss's office but they didn't get where they were by playing by the rules or being reckless. The new equipment when undetected as long as it wasn't active, hence Alcana sitting on a cold stone bunker holding his ear.
Besides, it wasn't like the Commissioner didn't know they'd done it, nor like she didn't approve given the number of hints she dropped or the blanks spots they randomly got when she wanted privacy.
" – you understand don't you Commissioner?" The rich voice of one of the I.A officers flowed into his ear.
"I understand you're pointing the finger at two of my best officers without either evidence or cause." The Commissioner was annoyed.
"Cause? Their history is a cause. I'm not saying," the man attempted to defend himself, "that they are involved, simply that's we'd like to talk to them about their recent whereabouts."
"You'll find any sighting of this 'Batman' leave my officers off the hook, Murllock, especially since one of them has all the wrong body parts."
"So Duquesne isn't wearing a mask, I never said she was –"
"-But your inferring that's she's involved in all of this. She's a good cop, one of the best; she wouldn't throw her career away for something like this."
"Why not?" the man's other partner interrupted, "It wouldn't be the first time a female detective has thrown a promising career away for a few nightly thrills."
Alcana, who could barely bring himself to breath, hissed under his breath – just as the Commissioner growled under her own.
"Don't drag my officers' pasts through my office like they're under investigation – Detective Alcana and Duquesne are not involved in this. I had multiple times on tape where they are clearly here when reports have been made."
"So Alcana has a partner involved in this – a civilian maybe, or another cop. Like his mother did." Barbara made a rather ugly noise, like a cat being strangled as her temper was starting to be pushed to the limit but the detective cut her off before she could interrupt.
"All I'm saying – Alcana has the right build, the right age, the right kind of skills added on top of his family history and his partnership with the original Duquesne's daughter, it makes for a suspicious set of circumstances. I have to follow and look into all leads, like I'm told too. If Alcana's clean there's nothing for anyone to worry about."
"Unless of course you're trying to set Alcana up."
Alcana did feel concerned. His heart was hammering in his chest, his face was flushed and damn he wanted to hit something, or someone. He knew his family history; he knew what his mother had done for revenge. How she had thrown a promising career down the drain. Even now, possible his own as well. Breathing deeply his fingernails cut into his hands as he closed his eyes. For a second, all he could hear was the jeers, the suspicions and the doubts he had to put up with throughout his whole career – was he a vigilante like his mother? Is your daddy Batman? You wear spandex at the dinner table Robin? Hey, got any old pictures of your momma, I hear the suit didn't really hide much-
Growling, he slammed his fist down but the voices were gone. Had been ever since he moved to Major Crimes, partnered up with Duquesne – the first blue who tried to pull similar stunt found himself eating dirt with a teaser against his stomach, threatening to move lower. It was never mentioned again and Duquesne never looked for a thank you. Alcana never found himself more thankful or relieved. She knew what it was like, with her own family history looming over her.
Except, Duquesne didn't give two bat craps about what the people around her thought. She showed the brass she was different.
Letting go of his breath, he slumped and removed the ear piece – he had heard enough. He didn't need or want to know more. Taking a few more breaths, he turned the equipment off, put the ear piece and the plaster back and slide off the counter. Quickly making some coffee, he grabbed the mugs and unlocked the door. One of the other detectives was leaning against the wall, eyes on the still arguing Sanchez and Duquesne, who ignored any attempts from the I.A to calm them down. A few officers had turned back to work, or where glaring at them to quieten down.
Catching sight of Alcana, Bullock finally stood up. By the time it took from Alcana to reach the table, Duquesne was fuming in her seat but ignoring Sanchez like was a particular ugly water fountain and Sanchez was staring morosely at his computer screen as his partner lectured him on how to not piss Duquesne off on purpose. The I.A looked like he thought they were all insane.
You have no idea. Alcana thought as he plastered a fake cheerful grin on his face, placing the mugs in front of their respective owners. "So, is it safe to be here or am I likely to be gunned down in the line of duty." Bullock looked disapproving, Sanchez sniggered and Duquesne sourly sneered as she picked up her mug.
"Only if you keep putting off your paper work, Alcana, get back to work."
Stilling smiling, because that's what he was good at, Alcana took his seat and quietly started on his paperwork again. He ignored any of the subtle vibes going between the other three, eager to know what was going on but, he realised, had already guessed what was happening. Focusing yet another form Alcana didn't say a word, preferring for once to do his least favourite part of the job – at least then, no one could question what he was really up too.
Not that Bullock, Duquesne, Sanchez or Gordon would ever let anyone arrest him, but Alcana for once would have liked the chance to stand up for himself. But then, he preferred to pretend it wasn't happening to facing it head on.
Some son of Batwoman he was.
Hmm a bit grim for such a cheerful guy...