Summary: "Word of advice. Don't be a good cop." "Well, I can't gurantee to be a bad one either." He must have seen a lot of good cops end up either dead, or like his partner, ironically behind bars. But she had made a promise she intended to keep. There was no way she was going to back out on it now. RiddlerXOC
Dead Bodies
Chapter 1: Third day
She had really wanted to see a dead body. One that hadn't been pampered, and dressed up all pretty in a funeral parlor. But an actual dead body, fresh and real.
The thought had come to her unbidden, her mind wandering as she imagined what it might be like to see one. A friend of hers worked with them, he told her it was different before they were made to look nice. So she found herself unable to resist the opportunity, knowing they had recently brought in a man by the name of Aaron Keith this afternoon. Where he was being kept was easily accessible enough, though that wasn't to say she was exactly permitted within the autopsy room. It was technically evidence afterall.
Just to be safe she made sure to go when the pathologist was out, passing by the room casually, planning to peek through the glass, but surprised when the door was already open. There was already someone there. She was sure it was not their current pathologist, however she didn't give much thought to it. She only vaguely noticed him dissecting the body, her attention being drawn away from the trespasser by something far more captivating.
Kelsey unwillingly felt her eyes focus on the autopsy table, flickering over the lifeless husk, trying to imagine him once being alive. It was hard. I mean, he barely looked dead. Just sort of asleep. It made her feel weird to imagine he couldn't think, or feel anymore.
"It's so strange to see up close," she commented without thinking.
She watched as the man working on the corpse jumped, fumbling with his tools as he straightened himself, taking a generous step back from whatever limb he had been examining. His brown eyes met her green ones, staring, before flickering quickly over her, assessing her.
She let herself smile slightly, awkwardly, enjoying the depth of his deep gaze, even as his glasses obscured it. It was obvious she had caught him by surprise, she doubted anyone ever came down here, and he hadn't expected anyone to.
Leaning against the doorframe, she looked away from him, eyes once again settling on the dead man lying across the cold, metal table.
His voice was high pitched when he spoke, less annoying, and more in an endearing sort of way. "You shouldn't be in here."
Kelsey laughed at that, her eyes shining mischievously. "Neither should you."
He stiffened defensively, grasping the instrument in his gloved hand tighter, his eyes focusing back on hers. "Dr. Thompkins doesn't have a problem with me being here. I assist her, she doesn't mind."
"I wasn't going to tell on you anyway," she teased. They would both be in trouble if she did.
He stood awkwardly, his eyes dark and inquisitive, and she could practically feel his thoughts racing as she observed him. He was tall she noticed, the gray lab coat hanging loosely off him, making him appear very lean. His fingers were long and skinny, and his face was narrow. He had thick eyebrows and a thoughtful expression, with thin lips that he kept tightly pressed together.
"Why are you here?" It was abrupt and demanding, and she could pick up on his impatience, though he hid it well.
"I was just curious," she offered. "A friend of mine does this for a living, and he always talks about it. I thought the pathologist would be out. I didn't realize you would be here."
"I see."
"Does it bother you if I watch for a few minutes?"
"Not at all." She could sense the lie, but she stayed anyway, never moving further than the door.
It was silent as he worked, and she admired his lack of hesitancy. His hands moved in swift, confident motions, the fact that he had a dead, once living, human right in front of him, seemingly having no hindrance on his abilities. He cut, and pressed, analyzing with little thought on the matter.
Just as she was thinking she could never have the stomach to do what he did, he paused in his work. She looked back up at him, watching his brows furrow, as if something had just occurred to him.
"I haven't seen you around the GCPD before," he realized.
She wondered if he had been mentally filing through all the people here that he knew in the time she had been observing him work.
"Yes, it's only my third day," she supplied.
He eyed her uniform skeptically, as if he couldn't quite picture her holding a gun. Though she couldn't say she blamed him, she still couldn't imagine holding a gun herself, even as it rested in the holster on her hip.
"You said it was strange to see up close," he said suddenly. It took her a moment to recognize he was referring to what she said when she first entered the room, not expecting him to still be thinking about it.
Kelsey hummed in agreement, but didn't elaborate.
"You meant death I assume?"
"Ah, no."
"Then what?" His eyes twinkled inquistively.
She blinked, sort of taken back he was asking. Kelsey took a moment, looking up at the ceiling, trying to put her thoughts into words.
"I mean, I guess, everything on the outside of a human body is dead, and lifeless looking. I wouldn't really know you've checked out unless I felt for your pulse, or...you know-"
"Or?" he pressed, now appearing undeniably curious.
"-I looked into your eyes. Our eyes are the only alive part of us we can see. It's just strange seeing something so full of life, and emotion, and light so absolutely, suddenly..." She shifted, cutting herself short, suddenly self concious.
"I'm sorry," she apologized instinctively. "That probably doesn't make much sense." She tried to laugh, but it ending up sounding forced. "It's stupid. Just something I was thinking of."
He looked at her intensely, eyes narrowed, expression serious. She tensed, and abruptly felt out of place. Because now there was a sort of total focus on her person that made her uncomfortable.
"I should go," she announced quietly, though her voice felt loud and intrusive to her own ears. She had been away from her desk for too long, and she couldn't quite think of what to say to make his staring less uncomfortable.
He nodded once, not protesting her departure, though his eyes never left her.
"Thank you for allowing me to watch for a while," she told him seriously.
"Not a problem."
She made to leave the room, turning quickly and without looking. She bumped into a tall woman, with black hair and a long neck. She sported the same coat as the man she had just been conversing with. However, she didn't stop to dissect her features, mumbling a quick apology and walking briskly out the door and down the hall.
Halfway down the hallway she stopped, taking a breath, frustrated with herself for shying away so easily.
She decided it had been a stupid thing to want to see anyway. A waste of time.
Looking back regretfully, Kelsey sighed, as she resumed her stride back toward her desk.
Who even thought about dead people's eyes anyway.
Being a cop hadn't been her first choice, nor had it been her second. She was clumsy, could be timid at times, and preferred using brain over brawn. The thought of shooting her gun worried her, and quite frankly her small frame just looked silly in the bulky, blue uniform.
She had never been interested in upholding justice. She didn't think it would make a difference in a town as corrupt as Gotham, where half the police force were as rotten as the criminals it wrought against.
But she had promised herself she would try, even if she despised it. She would do her best to see it through.
It was the least she could do.
Though she wasn't sure if wearing her uniform while walking out of her apartment this morning made her feel safer, or more of a target. Most of the creeps on the street kept their distance, something she couldn't say before she sported her badge. However, the looks she had received were fairly more dangerous than before.
Kelsey always made sure to remain aware of herself while taking the tube. But still, it didn't stop her fear of being caught off guard if someone suddenly decided they wanted to hurt her, which happened more often than one could count in Gotham. So, besides her gun, she always carried pepper spray, for the sole reason that she doubted anyone would expect it. And if no one expected it, it was an advantage. She felt silly having it, what with a gun on her belt and all. But she felt it was the smart thing to do.
It was a relief to finally make it to the doors of the GCPD that morning, and she hoped her anxiety would ease with each trip she made to work. Perhaps, after a long enough time she'd be able to take a patrol car home, so she didn't have to walk. For now though she was on desk duty, which she didn't mind because it gave her a chance to observe how things worked here.
Evidently, everyone in the precinct knew each other in some way, shape, or form, whether personally or through the grape vine.
Kelsey was intelligent enough to put together, even on her second day of being here, that everything was interconnected. To not know someone meant to be stranded amongst a sea of lions, all on your own. It was a systematic thing, and the social standings here were no doubt difficult to garner. The price of obtaining them however, didn't quite seem worth the favors you were granted. But she definitely wasn't stupid enough to think she could get by without a single ally.
So by late afternoon, after her odd visit to the autopsy room, she had found one, promising single individual in which to focus her attention on.
Harvey Bullock.
Heavy, short, and scruffy looking. He was a man who seemed to rank high on the social ladder, his presence hard to overlook. He was loud, bosterious, and always drew attention to himself. But the others appeared used to his antics, even amused by them.
She had been thinking, since she had first noticed him, about how to approach him without making her intentions too transparent. Kelsey didn't exactly fancy herself a master of manipulation, nor would she admit to being the greatest conversationalist. Bullock wasn't the type of man she would ordinarily befriend, and loud, rowdy people had never been her forte. Even so, if she were honest with herself she would confess she felt little bad even thinking of approaching him solely for the intent of using him.
She felt a stab of guilt, and just as she was questioning her plans moral integrity, she felt a heavy hand fall on her shoulder, gripping it firmly.
"Ey, newbie," he greeted her with an easy grin. She stiffened under the contact of his large hand.
"Bullock," she returned sheepishly, the unexpected sight of him throwing her for a loop. All her potiential plans seemed to fall apart with him actually standing in front of her.
"Look at that, newbie already knows me."
"You're hard to miss," she joked.
"That I am." And she noticed he voiced it proudly.
She rose from her seat and held out her hand, albeit a little unsurely. "Officer Jakenson." He looked at her hand skeptically. "Or, you know, just Kelsey," she offered, putting her hand back down when he eyed it in amusement.
"Well, Kelsey. You're not gunna get far in the GCPD sitting at your desk all by your lonesome."
She hesitated, "I'm not very good with people." He didn't seem surprised by the admission.
"Ya don't say." He put his hands on his hips, leaning back slightly. "Not very good with people, and you wanted to be a cop?"
"Not my first choice."
"Well, that's obvious."
He could be thought of as rude. But Kelsey didn't get the impression he was really trying to be.
"They won't leave you on desk work forever, you'll be put on patrols soon. Best to have someone watching your back. I suggest getting aquainted with a few other officers. A pretty girl like you will have them eating out of the palm of her hand."
Kelsey couldn't be sure if it was the right thing to say. But she really wanted Harvey Bullock to be the one watching her back, so she mentioned it anyway. "Well, we're aquainted now, aren't we?" She only said it half seriously, not wanting to assume she could wrangle him over to her side so easily.
He seemed surprised, then slapped her hard on the shoulder, laughing. "That we are, newbie. That we are." He winked at her. "Don't worry, I got your back."
She smiled at him, and it wasn't purely for her own benefit. Kelsey could see the honest warmth and concern in his eyes, concealed behind the tough exterior. Maybe befriending Bullock could be a real thing, not just a strategy to keep herself from being eaten alive in this place. She'd feel better about herself if it was a real thing.
"How about drinks later, on me? I've recently been deprived of my partner, could use another one for the time being. To be honest you're a lot prettier than him too."
Her eyebrows shot up, surprised by the sudden offer. "Well, I-" she fumbled, looking for an excuse. She wasn't much for alcohol.
"It's alright, don't hurt yourself trying to be polite about it."
She laughed nervously. "It's just, I don't really drink." He gave her an incredulous look, but didn't comment. She tried to recover, "so why don't you have a partner anymore? What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"
His personable attitude seemed to turn lackluster at the question. "Framed for murder. Serving time now. Everyone will say he killed the guy, but that's just because no one wants a good cop in the GCPD. Happens all the time in this city."
Kelsey's eyes softened empathetically. "I'm sorry about that. Seems like you guys were close."
"Two peas in a pod," he grinned, his humor returning. But then, almost seriously, "word of advice. Don't be a good cop."
"Well, I can't gurantee to be a bad one either."
"Can't argue with that."
Small talk was never something she liked engaging in, but she humored him for a few more minutes. When he left she sat back down at her desk, propping her head up with her hand, as she bent forward to read over her paperwork. It was tedious, but it had to get done.
There was a few times she allowed herself to go off course and ponder other things. She thought about what it meant to be an officer here in Gotham. She decided it must be power.
Being a officer was power. It was a safety net for criminals, both inside and outside the force.
Cops were just criminal scum on the inside, at least in this city. She tried to picture what it might be like if that weren't the case. She envisioned Gotham at its full potiential, no crime, and decent citizens enforcing the law.
It was a pretty thought.
It was nearly six o'clock when she finished. There weren't many officers still lingering around, and the voices around her had died down to a dull roar.
She stacked her paperwork, shoving it into her draws neatly, before locking them and pocketing the keys. Kelsey rubbed at her eyes, sighing as she rose.
"Hey," came a soft voice. Kelsey turned her head. "I was wondering if you had needed something before. I wasn't sure of your name, that's why I didn't come ask earlier. But I was about to go home when I spotted you, so I figured..."
"Needed something?" She repeated dumbly.
"Before in the autopsy room, you were running out as I walked in."
"Oh." She recognized her long neck, and dark features. "You're the...pathologist?"
She nodded, smiling kindly, though it didn't reach her eyes. Her attention seemed divided, as if her mind wasn't totally invested in their conversation. "Yes, Dr. Lee Thompkins. Edward told me you were just watching, but I thought maybe you had needed something."
She blushed, embarrassed to be caught out. "No, I didn't need anything. I really was just curious."
"You have an interest in the field?" Dr. Thompkins questioned, eyes lighting up a bit at the prospect.
"Not particularly. I like experiencing and learning new things though, and I thought it would be interesting to see. I was telling the man I was talking to," she paused, "Edward, you said?"
The taller woman nodded, confirming it, "yes, Edward Nygma. He's our forensics guy."
"I was telling Mr. Nygma a friend of mine is also in that line of work. It always sounded amazing when he talked about it, and what with an opportunity to see it first hand right in front of me..."
Dr. Thompkins laughed lightly. "You couldn't resist," she finished.
Kelsey nodded. "It was fascinating to watch. He's very good at it, Mr. Nygma, I mean."
"He is. He enjoys it, and he's really quite brillant. So I let him help me every so often."
"That's kind of you."
She shrugged, brushing off the compliment. "Thank you. Though I'd like to stick around for a little longer, I'm pretty tired. I'm going to head home now. Let's talk more tomorrow, ...?"
"Kelsey." They shook hands, and for once Kelsey felt at ease. Dr. Thompkins was likable, as well as intelligent. She obviously was raised a decent sort of person, and she had no problems conversing with her. Infact, the dialogue between them flowed easily.
"Right," she said, in a good mood, "see you tomorrow."
Kelsey yawned, stretching, as she made her way to the door.
When she got home and opened the front door Ally jumped up to greet her, licking her face, her tail whipping against her leg. Kicking the door closed behind her, she grasped her tight, bear hugging her onto the floor.
"Hello, my love," she greeted cheerfully. The German Shepherd barked happily, as they rolled around on the floor.
Kelsey sprinkled kisses all over her face, laughing as she rubbed her belly. After playing around with her for a few minutes, she got up off the carpet, cheeks red and slightly out of breath.
Her apartment wasn't very large. It was small and only held the essentials. A white kitchen, worn down and stained over the years, as well as a small sitting room and bedroom. The carpets in the sitting room were ugly and green, sitting on top of them a brown couch donated to her by a friend. Her TV was modest, nothing too fancy, and her bedroom held a simple twin bed, a dresser, as well as a small closet.
She had only been living here for a few months, and she didn't really mind that it was barely accommodating. Kelsey didn't really need much. Where she lived wasn't too important so much as to how she lived.
Kicking off her shoes, she went over to her fridge and grabbed some leftover chinese. Lying on the couch she ate, booting up her laptop. Ally curled up next to her feet, whining and licking her toes. She reached forward to run her fingers through her fur fondly.
Kelsey checked her emails, filtering through them and discarding the junk. She hovered over one message.
Jksn
Kelsey. It's your father. You changed your number, and I assume you blocked my other email. Can we talk? You can'tignore me forever. I'msorry, baby. Please call me. I love you.
She glared at the message, letting her mouse linger over the delete button before clicking it hastily. Exiting out of her email a little more agressively than necessary, she sighed.
She glanced over to her endtable, staring deeply at where she had placed her gun down.
Her father said that guns were evil. That she was no good for wanting one, even holding on to one as a cop. But he, along with most people, didn't understand guns were only tools. It was the kind of person behind the gun that counted. Granted, the values of the people wielding the weapon were usually less than virtuous. But that didn't mean the tool itself was a great evil.
She wouldn't make the gun evil.
She thought back to her conversation with Harvey.
Don't be a good cop.
That had been Bullock's advice to her.
-no one wants a good cop in the GCPD.
He must have seen a lot of good cops end up either dead, or like his partner, ironically behind bars. But she had made a promise she intended to keep. There was no way she was going to back out on it now.
There were things in this world that you knew in your gut that you just had to do-things you were meant to do. Even if you owed it to someone else to do those things. There were moments that opened your eyes, and steered you in directions you never thought you might take. Sometimes you have to realize you were made to fulfill a certain role in the universe, even if it wasn't what you had intended for yourself.
Even if it wasn't who you really were inside.
There were moments that told you it was who you had to become.
She leaned her head back, shutting her laptop. She felt her eyelids flutter closed.
Being a cop wasn't who Kelsey was. But she knew it was who she had to be. Because some things didn't just happen. Some things screamed at you, shook you down to your core, and told you this is what you need to be.
Kelsey believed this with all her heart.
But still.
She couldn't be sure of why she dreamed of dead people with their eyes open that night.
Nor could she fathom why she was the only one with a gun in her hand, blood dripping from the wounds she had inflicted.
All she knew was that she couldn't stop crying.
A/N:Okay, higuys! So I'm really nervous about this story... never written a Riddler fanfiction before or evenattempted to. This takes place after Jim is framed and the Riddler persona is in place. Tell me what you think. Good, bad? Too rushed? Thanks please review! Love ya