Of all the luck in all the world, Harvey Bullock had to have the shittiest. Acting Captain of the GCPD. Real honor. Right. Being up to his ears in paperwork and having every move under a microscope was not, in fact, an honor – more of a punishment for all the crap he'd done wrong.
Of all of it though, Harvey hated the reporters the most. All the flashing lights of the cameras, seeing his ugly mug plastered on every paper in Gotham, stupid question after stupid question. He could do without it.
However, the power he had as acting captain was pretty nice. The ability to send in all available units when Jim Gordon decided to dig into Hugo Strange's lab? Yeah, that felt good. Diving into paperwork at his desk afterward, not so much.
Fresh cup of coffee, box of glazed donuts from Tindy's down the street, oldies station playing some of the greatest hits, and Harvey put his feet up. Barnes ever came back and saw the scuff marks he'd put in the wood, he'd hear it for a week. But for now the office was his.
It'd been about an hour before he started almost-dozing. Truth be told this new schedule affected him a little more than he'd like to admit. The coffee just wasn't doing it at the moment. He stood to stretch his legs, cracked his back, and stared down at the file Alvarez had thrown down some time ago. Squinting, he read and re-read a few words.
And suddenly he was wide awake, grabbing his glasses from where they rested atop his head and pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 'Hostage situation' and 'held at gunpoint' and 'scars'. He lowered himself into his seat at the memory, mouth agape, breathing sharp.
"Alvarez!"
Silence. Nothing. He barely grasped the case file in his hand in the hurry to get up and out of the room. Surveying the precinct, Harvey called one more time.
"Went home, sir," someone called back.
Punching in his number on the phone at his old desk, Harvey waited impatiently as it rang.
"So help me, if it goes to voicemail…"
"Hello?"
"Alvarez. Yeah, I'm gonna need you to walk me through the call you got from this…" he paused to open the file and read the name off. "-Frang guy."
"Bullock, I'm in the middle of dinner."
"Tough. Captain calls, you talk. Now shoot."
There was a heavy sigh. "Mr. Frang called last night – 1 a.m. – said he was held at gunpoint by some psycho with scars all over."
"Was," Harvey reiterated. "So he called after the guy left."
"Look, Bullock, I did all the follow-up questions and got a description of the guy. If this is because I didn't do the paperwork right…" Alvarez droned.
Harvey flipped through the folder, realizing he hadn't even checked for that. "You didn't. Where's that sheet? Not in here – no description of this guy whatsoever." He slammed his hand down on the desk when he came up with nothing.
"Must be in my desk still. I'll give it to you on Wednesday."
"I'll just grab the damn thing now."
"-I have the key."
"Fuck!"
There was a long pause before Alvarez started talking again. "Look, Harvey, I'm on a date with a pretty woman and I've gotta be honest here: you're ruining the mood."
"Do your fuckin' paperwork right and I wouldn't have to cockblock!" Harvey felt his face reddening due to his screaming. A few passing officers stared at him.
"You're right, my mistake. I'll get it to you on Wednesday."
Harvey sighed, holding his head. "Do you remember what the guy looked like?" Another long pause. "Alvarez!"
"…No."
"Useless." Harvey slammed the phone down then, flipping through the paperwork one more time. Everything but the description of the perp. Beautiful.
Running a hand down his beard, he glanced at Alvarez's empty desk. A couple paperclips and a few weird glances and Harvey was still one paper short. There had to be a master key, but he had no freggin' clue where Barnes kept it.
So, last resort, he grabbed the file once again, slammed his office door, and made a call to Mr. Frang.
"Sir, I know one of my officers took down all the information…right, but…no, I'm acting Captain…yes, I understand that's unbelievable but…well." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look if you're at the shop right now I could come down and…you're not. Right. Is it open?" Harvey grabbed a pen and took down a name. "Alexis Kirk. Got it. And you won't be in for a few days? …Ah, mental health day, right."
Well that phone call got him nowhere good. This Alexis chick wasn't even working when it happened, but she was working today and maybe he could scope out the place. Harvey could feel pressure in his chest and the room felt a few degrees warmer. And then the memories started like a floodgate and he had to sit down to steady his breathing. This wasn't right. He had a job to do and right now he should be focusing on that, not following the lead to a case one of his officers could handle.
Yet he was putting on his jacket and ducking out the door before anyone could ask him any questions. On the corner of 19th and Ritting was a quaint music shop called the Platter-Poruim. Harvey had always wanted to check the place out but his schedule usually didn't allow it. His oversleeping didn't help either.
Coffee in hand, Harvey stepped inside. This time of night he needed something to keep him going or he'd fall asleep before shift ended. Sipping his drink, he glanced around as a bell announced his entrance. Sheet music, a corner of old records, some guitars, bongos, woodwinds…you name it. Yet no broken, boarded up window or any sign of a struggle. Soft music played from a radio somewhere. A loud squeak startled him, nearly making him spill the coffee all over his leather.
A door down a long hallway opened and someone stepped out. "I'll be right with you, sir," a woman spoke and Harvey glanced up in time to see a petite redhead peeking out the door then ducking right back in. Harvey drew closer, narrowing his eyes as he glanced down the hall. "Increasing the size of your reed might make things a bit more difficult on some notes, as you can tell, but I think you're ready for it."
"Thanks, Miss Alexis," a child's voice spoke and Harvey heard some movement in the room.
When his phone vibrated in his pocket, Harvey groaned and doubled-back to the door, glancing at the caller ID. Pennyworth. What in God's name did he want now? Ducking out of the store, Harvey frustratingly answered the ringing thing while trudging to his car.
Another crisis. Another 'I-need-more-info-on-these-monsters' moment and there Harvey was in the middle of a shitshow when he got back to GCPD – empty-handed, mind. Alfred looking mighty infuriated, officers with a dazed deer-in-the-headlights look while he scolded them. Perfect.
Harvey stooped behind passing officers, held up a newspaper beside his head, and ducked into his office before Alfred could find him. He needed answers, sure, but with Jim chasing after Lee, he felt like all Alfred's questions fell on his shoulders and Harvey's mind was elsewhere.
Stuffing a doughnut in his mouth, he searched through the phonebook for the Platter-Porium. Glazed gloriousness half eaten, Harvey put it down to dial. Alfred pulled the door open, already starting his spiel about how Gotham deserved answers and he and Bruce were tempted to leave the city but he had questions before they went anywhere. Harvey held up a finger.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hi. I was wondering what your hours are tonight," Harvey was adamant about getting this information, even if he had a multitude of things on his plate currently.
"We close at eight o'clock," came the female's voice.
Harvey was tempted to speak with her then, but decided against it – what with the fury Alfred was radiating after he learned it was a personal call and not monster-related. He thanked the woman and hung up.
"Look, Alfred, the most we can do is wait Jim out. I called him for more info and right now he's hunting down his doctor lady. He'll have answers for us, no problem." Hunting her down in his car, might he add. He had to take one of GCPD's for now and, considering he was Captain, he could manage that.
"Jim's told Master B all he knows. What I need right now is your input on monster sightings. Have you or have you not seen any?" Harvey glanced up at the ceiling with a sigh. "I take that as all the evidence I need. Thanks for your time, Bullock. See you in a few months."
He figured that was his cue to leave for the night, but after a few more officers had him sign off on paperwork, it was past 8.
He swung around to the Platter-Porium again anyway, wondering if he could take a look outside the place. When he arrived, he saw movement and lights in the shop but didn't get out of the car. When the lights went off, he watched and waited, hand constantly on his holster, ready to get out at any moment.
Three minutes ticked by before the door opened. The redhead locked the door, tossing the keys in her purse. He sighed. She was probably just closing up. He watched her glance around the street and unlock the car parked out front.
Harvey followed her. He knew he shouldn't have, knew he was long overdue for a brewski, but it was for her protection. If this was the perp he thought it was, the guy was shady and had a history of violence against women.
After she pulled into the driveway, Harvey stopped just before her house and watched to see if she was alone. The interior lights of her car told him she was, but she refused to get out. When the door did open, Harvey decided it was time to move on, grab a drink, stop being paranoid.
The parking lot was dimly lit which added to his anxiety as he made his way to the bar. This couldn't take long. He was in desperate need of sleep and on the way in he'd gotten a call from the shift manager asking for him to stop in before going home – he had some questions about a few new officers starting. So no all-nighter. Half hour, tops.
There were footsteps behind him but he thought nothing of it until they got really close and hurried. Just before he could turn to see what was happening, he had a knife pressed to his back.
"Woah, woah, hey," he called, hands rising in innocence. This is it, he thought for a moment. "You can have my wallet, just let me…" and he stepped forward quickly, spinning on his heels and grabbing the wrist of the person, pressing his fingers in just hard enough for them to drop the knife. He sent them a right hook then reached for the weapon. With it in his hands, he stared his attacker right in the face. A woman. His mouth dropped open when she moved her hand away from the spot he'd hit her. "Alexis?"
"Why the Hell were you following me? And how do you know my name?" she pulled her fingers away, checking for blood.
Harvey sighed. "I was just checking out the place after what happened yesterday."
"So you followed me home?" She snapped. "Wait. You're Detective Bullock, aren't you?"
"In the flesh."
She still looked confused. "What happened yesterday?"
He narrowed his eyes a moment. "Frang didn't tell you?"
"What?"
"About the breaking and entering…?" Harvey waited, dropped his hands to his sides. "You are Alexis, right? From The Platter-Porium?" she nodded. "You've gotta be kiddin' me…" he looked up, shook his head. "Frang didn't tell you he was held at gunpoint last night?" At her wide-eyed reaction, Harvey knew the answer. "Great boss ya got there, really. He's fine, by the way."
"Niles? Niles Frang was held at gunpoint and didn't say something to get himself shot?" she laughed. "Honestly, that's a feat."
"He told me you weren't working last night, but you would be today. I just wanted to keep an eye out and make sure the jackass didn't come back." Harvey looked around the parking lot as a few guys walked to their cars. "While you're here, I got a few follow-up questions I'm wondering if you could help me with." He glanced at the knife in his hand, spun it so the handle was facing her, and offered it back.
"I don't really know anything, but I'll try," she spoke, looking over his shoulder to read the neon sign of Finnigan's Bar.
"By the way, next time you go wielding a knife, just a suggestion but put it to their neck – you're more likely to avoid the fisticuffs."
"You were too tall," she shrugged, taking the knife from him with a short laugh.
So she followed him into the bar, closing the switchblade and shoving it in her purse.
"We gotta make this quick, I'm kinda ditching work right now," he grabbed the door for her.
She raised an eyebrow at him as she entered. "You're acting Captain now, aren't you? And you're playing hooky?"
Harvey groaned. "Look, I didn't ask for this, it was just thrown at me. Besides, I used to do this when I was just a detective."
"That doesn't make it any better."
"Okay, all-mighty voice of reason, sit." He pulled out a barstool for her at the counter and ordered a beer for himself. When he turned to her, she said she'd have the same and Harvey hid his surprise. "Pegged you as a wine kinda gal."
She shrugged. "Anything with alcohol right now, thanks."
"Okay, so Frang didn't mention anything about the guy, we know that, but have you had any suspicious activity at work lately? Any weird customers?"
She pondered that a moment then thanked the bartended when he brought their drinks. "It's a music shop, we always get strange customers." She took a sip. "Weird goth kids with their crazy colored hair and those huge pants with the chains on them." A nod. "But there was this guy the other day…he had these scars."
"Scars," Harvey repeated. "By his mouth?"
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "No. A few on his arms and neck –like he'd been involved in something pretty recently. He just had that edge, yanno? Like…chaos."
"Did he have dark hair…like black hair?" Now this was the question Harvey knew he wasn't supposed to ask. He was supposed to ask for more details and hope she could give them. Prompting her like this could blow up in his face, but he needed to know. Maybe she hadn't seen his face well enough to see those scars by his mouth.
She shook her head. "No. Not black hair. Reddish."
Harvey bit his tongue, looking down a moment before taking a long drink. So it wasn't Tom. He'd hoped it was. He'd hoped that Tom would show his ugly mug back in this city so Harvey could beat him to death.
"Must be him."
"That's…the one who held Niles at gunpoint?" Alexis asked.
Harvey nodded. "Did he say anything to you?"
"Called me 'gorgeous'," she recounted. "Just flipped through some records and kept looking at me. I thought he was going to rob the place with how shifty he was acting, but another customer came in and he left."
Harvey finished his drink in two more gulps and placed the mug on the bar, not lifting his eyes from the left over froth.
"Your boss told me he's takin' time off. Are you gonna be in, in the next few days?"
Alexis nodded but he wasn't looking at her. "It's me and my coworker covering his shifts. I'm in all this week."
"Good." Harvey pulled out his wallet, tossed some cash on the bar, and stood. "I'll be in touch."