The room was silent, save for the occasional loud crunch, and the crinkle of plastic. Interview rooms were, like many aspects of his career, nothing like they were depicted on television. The big, open spaced room, with a simple metal table in the middle, and dull lighting, often like a dungeon. Real questioning chambers were nothing like that. Such as the one Percy was in. It was small, barely bigger than a closet. With bright white walls, and bright fluorescent lights. On one side of the room, by the door, was a simple wooden desk, with a soft back chair. Across from the desk was a hard metal chair. Where an annoyed Romanji sat, wincing slightly every time Percy bit down into his bag of chips.

Percy himself, was slouched in a chair across from Romanji, his feet perched up on the desk by his side. The second he'd entered the precinct, Romanji had been crying for his lawyer. So, naturally, as was his right, his lawyer was contacted, and Percy and Montoya refrained from questioning the man. That had been yesterday, and Percy and Montoya had been working to meticulously start breaking down the man's case, as well as doing their best to shatter any potential alibi. However, when they received the call that the state-appointed public defender was on their way, Percy had headed to the room.

He had managed to talk Montoya into letting him be the one to conduct the interview.

They had ensured that the cameras were on, and that everything was being recorded from start to finish. They didn't want Romanji getting cut loose due to a technicality.

But that didn't mean they couldn't screw with the bastard either.

That was part of the play. Unnerve the hell out of him. Make him wonder what they really had on him. Percy made every effort to look as relaxed, and unconcerned as possible. It was all part of the deception. Did they have the bastard dead to rights? Even if they didn't have the camera footage of him in the St. Cloud car hours before the murder. Even if he didn't fit the description of their suspect, and even if they hadn't had his fingerprints, which Percy was certain would be a match to both of their crime scenes, there was the gun.

The man had been dumb enough to bring a gun with him to the penthouse. Not just any gun. A nine-millimeter. A nine-millimeter that was had been rushed over to One-Police-Plaza to be run against the NIBIN database, as well as tested against the shell casings found in both crime scenes. A nine-millimeter that Percy was certain would test as a match for both crime scenes.

They had Alberto Romanji dead to rights. It wasn't a matter of if he was going to jail, it was only a matter of how long would he be there.

So yes, the plan was to unnerve him. Because they didn't want Romanji. Was he the one to shoot St. Cloud? Yes, a fourteen-year-olds life was cut tragically short because this son of a bitch was as amoral as it came. But he was just a two-bit thug. A punk with a gun and willing to use it. No, Falcone was the real prize. Falcone was the one they really wanted.

Percy was jolted from his thoughts abruptly, when the door to the room opened. A young woman, barely in her mid-twenties walked in. She was tall, maybe only a few inches short of six feet. Dressed in an all-black work suit that complimented her caramel skin, with dark black hair, and brown eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed black glasses.

Percy thought she was on the younger side for being a practicing public defender, maybe only a year or so out of school.

"I hope you haven't been harassing my client detective, would hate for your work to be over before it even began," she said snidely, her voice lightly accented, sounding to Percy like she was from one of the posher parts of Britain.

Percy didn't get the chance to respond, "Who the hell are you?" Romanji demanded, speaking up for the first time since Percy had entered the room.

The lawyer didn't bat an eye, "Sarah Rosthein, I'm your lawyer," she said, simply.

"The hell you are!" Romanji said, getting more agitated by the second, "Where the hell is Carlos?"

Rosthein arched a finely manicured brow,

"I don't know anyone by that name, I was appointed to you by the state, and Mr. Romanji," She cut across his outburst before he could interrupt, shooting a meaningful look in Percy's direction, "I would offer my first piece of council; continue exercising your right not to incriminate yourself in front of the detective,"

Romanji, who Percy could swear had been about to mouth off, shut his jaw with a click.

Percy managed to keep the smirk off his face,

So, looks like Falcone usually kept a lawyer on retainer for him, but this time, has officially cut him loose. Judging by the look on his face, that doesn't bode well for his future wellbeing, Percy thought to himself, as he watched the exchange.

"As for you," She said, turning a glare on Percy, "What is my client being held for? I was told he was being charged with two counts of murder, but from what the district attorney's office presented, you don't have enough concrete evidence to hold him. So, unless you have something new to add, we're done here,"

"Funny thing that," Percy said, not flinching away from the woman, "He's being held on possession of an illegal firearm. Picked it up off of him when we brought him in, serial number was shaved off."

She didn't respond, but her glare did intensify somewhat,

"Well then," Percy said, clapping his hands together, "Since we're all lawyered up and comfortable, mind if I start asking some questions?"

Rosthein ignored him for a moment, as she busied herself placing her carrying case on the table and empty chair next to Romanji, she motioned for Romanji to lean over, and she engaged the man in a whispered conversation for a few minutes. Percy just leaned back in his chair, crinkling the bag of chips up and throwing it into a waste-bucket in the corner. He was content to let them have their discussion.

"My client is declining to make a statement at this time," She said simply, but Percy just brushed the comment aside, he wasn't overly concerned.

"That's fine," he said, an easy smile on his face, "You don't have to do any of the talking, I can do more than enough of that for the three of us." He then reached down under his chair, and retrieved the file he'd placed there, he set the file down on the table by Rosthein, who didn't make a move to open it.

"You know," Percy began, idly playing with the corner of the file, "There's a lot I love about my job, but by far my favorite, is this. It brings me back to kindergarten, you know, show and tell? So, I'm going to show you some stuff, and tell you what we know, then you can make a decision sound good?" He didn't wait for an answer, "Great,"

Thumbing open the file, he pulled the first of a small stack of photographs from the inside, and placed it on the table, "The tollway took this as you were entering the city a little over a week ago. Which puts you in Gotham well within the range of the murder," Placing the photo of Romanji behind the wheel of an all-black sedan, as it entered city limits, on the desk.

"The victim was murdered a few days ago Detective, not a week and a half ago. Don't try and warp the evidence to fit your own personal narrative," Rosthein said immediately,

Percy raised a brow, "Wasn't referring to her," He said simply, before grabbing a second photo from the file.

"This is the photo taken on September the 28th, at approximately One-Thirty in the morning. The girl in the photo is Silver St. Cloud, she was shot twice in the back, before she was shot once more in between the eyes, with a nine-millimeter."

Percy tapped the photo with a finger, "We pulled a couple of partial fingerprints off of the body. They're being run against the set of prints you gave us when you were being processed earlier yesterday morning."

He grabbed a third photo from the stack, "This is John Dorsett, former employee of the Ganteer's Chauffeur company. Also shot in the back with a nine-millimeter. Decomposition on the body placed the time of death at some point early last week. His car was also missing from its stall, and we have an eyewitness who says that they saw Mr. Dorsett's car leaving his home early on the morning in question. Gets more interesting though." Percy pointed a finger at Romanji,

"We had a couple of uniformed officers go back to the penthouse, and interview some of the staff, several of them identified you, as her 'replacement driver,' after Dorsett supposedly called in and quit. Interesting thing that."

Percy said no more, and pulled the fourth photo, "This is the penthouse belonging to Grace and Alexander St. Cloud, it was broken into, and ransacked, as you can clearly see, our forensics team pulled a hair fiber from the scene, and we will be subpoenaing to have a DNA sample retrieved from Mr. Romanji,"

"We will fight that, you have presented nothing so far to link my client to either scene, you have no case for a subpoena." Rosthein shot back,

Percy smiled genially, and raised his hands in the air, "Easy there miss Rosthein, I'm not done yet."

He pulled a fifth photo, "This should familiar," Percy said cheerfully, "This is a photograph of the weapon that was retrieved from you, Mr. Romanji. It's currently in our forensics lab, being tested against the shell casings that were retrieved from the scene." Percy's smile widened, as he leaned forward, resting an arm on his leg and cupping his face in his hand, "It's also being run against our database, to see if it matches any other unsolved homicides in the country. Think we'll find anything? I bet you twenty-five to life that we do,"

Romanji didn't respond, but Percy could tell that he was starting to get worried. Attuning his senses, Percy focused on the divinity of his powers. Reaching out with his gifts, he felt for the man's heartbeat, focusing on the water in the man's blood. He quickly found what he was looking for, and latched onto the increasingly erratic beat of the man's heart. Percy could also taste and feel the sweat coming off of the man. He was getting nervous; Romanji was doing a good job of maintaining a poker face, but his body was having a much different reaction. Percy could tell that Romanji knew what was going to happen, if and when, those results came back.

He was a goner.

Leaning back, Percy grabbed a fifth photograph, and let out a laugh, "Oh man, I just love this one, I think I'll call it, 'Presenting to the jury: Exhibit A,' What do you think?" He asked, tapping the photo, "That's you, isn't it Mr. Romanji? Traffic cams picked that picture up for us about a block away from the St. Cloud Penthouse. You in the driver's seat, and if you look in the back there, you can see miss St. Cloud. This was taken on September 27th, at around eight in the morning, only a few hours before Miss. St. Cloud was murdered. What's better than that you ask?" Percy said, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he cupped a hand around his ear and pretended like he was struggling to hear,

"That license plate looks familiar? Well it should, after all, that's the license plate belonging to the since deceased John Dorsett. And I know, I know what you're going to say," Percy cut across the incoming disruption from Rosthein, "But we already checked with the chauffeur company. All company cars are owned and operated by the employee's themselves, and we have already called and checked with Ganteer's as well as any other company the St. Cloud's have used in the past. No one by the name of Alberto Romanji has ever worked for them."

Percy crossed his legs, and leaned further back into the chair, "So, let's recap: We've got you, driving the victim, hours before she was shot, with the same caliber weapon you possess, in a car that was stolen from a man who was murdered in his home, a few days after you were seen entering the city. We have your weapon being processed, along with fingerprints and I'll bet it won't be hard to get a DNA sample from you to compare to what we have in the lab."

"Still got nothing to say?" Percy laughed, and Romanji's only retort was to glare harder. But his heart was beating faster, and he was sweating even more. Percy knew that he almost had the bastard exactly where they wanted him.

"That's fine, because there's one more thing I wanted to show you, really wraps this whole thing together." Percy pulled the last photo from the stack, and placed it with the others. Both Romanji and Rosthein looked confused as they stared at the photograph, unsure what the importance behind it was.

"See this whole time, we were banging our heads together tried figure why the hell you would up and pop Dorsett like that. I mean, if you were trying to just kill Silver, a long-rifle on the opposite building of her school would have done the job just fine." Percy scratched behind an ear, his smile still in place, "So why go through all the trouble of figuring out Dorsett's schedule, killing him, and assuming his job for a week. Even then, we had a real devil of a time figuring out why the hell you'd want to kill Silver in the first place," Percy tapped the picture,

"Then the forensics egg-heads found something real interesting about this little bracelet in the photo." Percy leaned forward, like he was about to tell some kind of secret, "Turns out, it ain't a bracelet at all. It's some kind of encryption key. Think of it like a USB stick. Holds all kinds of information on it."

Romanji's composure finally broke, his eye's going round, and wide as he stared at the picture. His heartbeat, which had been fast before, became a thundering piston. Hammering away in his ribcage, beating faster with every passing moment. The perspiration on the man's face was visible, and he began breathing more heavily, as his body tried to compensate for his elevated heart-rate.

Gotcha

Looking the man, dead in the eye, Percy waved a hand, doing his best to make it appear nonchalant, when in reality, it was so much more. It was a trick he'd learned from the daughters of Venus. While he could not use their mother's gift as they could, and couldn't literally charm a person into doing as they said, with the right application of the mist, Percy could manipulate someone's thoughts, feelings, and desires. He could put thoughts and ideas in their head, gently guide them to the decision that was most advantageous for him.

He didn't like doing it, he hated abusing someone's free will for his own benefit, but matter's like this were something different altogether. This man had, in Percy's mind, given up his right to free will, the moment he'd turned a gun on a defenseless fourteen-year old. The moment he'd decided that murder, for the sake of wealth, was the righteous thing for him to do. Percy held no empathy for scum like that.

Yet he still didn't feel comfortable.

So, with a minor application of his mist-magic, Percy guided the man in the direction Percy wanted, started influencing him, and telling him that it was in Alberto Romanji's best interest to confess. To do as Percy asked, and to help him in any way he could.

"Let's say you somehow beat this," Percy asked, his question seemingly coming out of nowhere, while maintaining eye contact with Romanji, "Let's say that you somehow manage to get yourself out of the hole that you dug for yourself. How long until your boy Christian catches up with you? How long do you think you can run away from him?"

Romanji finally tore his gaze away from the picture, staring at Percy. His heart somehow beating even faster, to the point that the noise was damn near deafening, and Percy had to slam his connection shut with the man. Romanji looked beyond terrified, clearly, he had been thinking the same thing Percy had implied. Had known the implications of what it meant that the GCPD had that drive as evidence. He didn't even seem concerned or confused as to how Percy knew of the connection, or knew that Falcone had paid him for the job.

More importantly, he knew what it meant that he'd failed miserably.

All the while, Percy continued to influence him and his emotions. Guiding the man, terrifying him further, implanting thoughts and feelings that weren't truly his, images of the horrific things that might happen to him of Falcone found him.

Time for the kill shot

"You and I both know how men like him treat failure."

"I'm sorry," Rosthein butted in, speaking up for the first time in a while, "Mind explaining how that bracelet is at all relevant?"

Percy finally tore his stare away from Romanji, turning to look at the pretty lawyer, "Sorry, didn't mean to keep you out of the loop. That right there, is the motive behind the murder of Silver St. Cloud. See, miss Rosthein, I don't know how well you know your client, but your boy there has some serious connections. He's in bed with the Falcone crime family, has been doing their dirty work for years. FBI's been investigating him for a long time, him and his connections to Christian Falcone. Christian Falcone hired our boy here to kill Silver St. Cloud, and steal that little bracelet for him."

Percy shrugged, and turned back to staring at Romanji, "It would have gone off pretty well too. You probably would have disappeared into the wind, and our investigation would have hit a dead end, except there was a small problem, Falcone clearly only knew about the drive's existence, didn't know what it actually looked like. Didn't know what it really was. Otherwise, he would have told you to keep that bracelet, instead of flinging it into the garbage like last night's dinner. Only it wasn't a flash drive, or anything like that. Instead, it was that bracelet, a bracelet you threw away, thinking it wasn't important. And now we have it. He's not going to like that very much, is he, Mr. Romanji?"

Romanji didn't answer, he looked like he was too terrified to even think at the moment, but Rosthein came to his aid,

Snorting, she looked at Percy derisively, "That's pure speculation. You have nothing concrete linking my client to the Falcone crime family, no jury is going to believe pure here-say."

Percy just shrugged a shoulder and smiled at Romanji. It was a different smile to his other's though. This one was feral, the kind of wolf-like grin he'd adopted after spending so long with Lupa.

"Honestly, when we get our results back, the matter of motive will be pretty inconsequential. But say you're right, say that the prosecution doesn't get their conviction, I'm still not too worried about it. I might be new to the city, but I know how these kinds of families work. Silver St. Cloud will get her justice. It's just a matter of who dispenses it." Percy lightly drummed his fingers against his pant leg,

"Us, or him,"

""I want a deal," Romanji announced suddenly, to the shock of his lawyer,

"Mr. Romanji-" She tried to say, but he cut her off,

"Shut the hell up!" he snarled, before turning back to Percy, "I want a damn deal," he repeated,

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Percy managed not to smile in victory, and keep his expression neutral, "What could you possibly give me?" he asked, gesturing to the table in front of him, "I got everything I need to get a conviction right here,"

"How about Christian Falcone?" he asked, his eyes wide, "Huh, how about him? That big enough for you, asshole?"

They had enough on him, even before the ballistics came back, to get Romanji for the hits. That wasn't why Percy was influencing him, hell, he might not have even needed to. It was clear that Falcone had already written him off, if he was no longer sending his attorney over to Romanji's aid. But Percy was not about to take any chances on getting Falcone. Percy might have been new to Gotham, but he was well familiar with how mobs worked. He remembered vividly what had happened to those who talked, back when he was a kid in New York. They simply vanished, without a trace. Never seen again. He knew on an instinctual level, that the Falcone's operated on the same level. If they had connections to the old families, it was a guarantee.

Percy didn't say anything, he just sat still and waited, making sure to try and play hard ball. He needed the man to talk, to not only confess, but to also willingly give him as much as he was (un)willing and able to give.

"I can tell you that Christian Falcone hired me to steal a data drive from the St. Cloud girl, and then kill her. I can tell you that he was planning to do the same to the parents. I can also link him to at least six other murders, he hired me for, within the last two years." Romanji rambled out quickly, the words leaving his mouth so fast, it was like they were tumbling over one another in a race to get out first.

"Before, any of that!" Rosthein cut in, finally able to get a word in, and she glared at Percy, "I want protections for my client. Immunity to prosecutions for previous crimes not directly related to the St. Cloud murders, as well as witness protection. The Falcone crime family is notorious and I will not have my client's life be in jeopardy because the District Attorney wants to score big."

Percy shrugged, "I'm just a detective ma'am, I can run it up the chain, but you should know by now that those kinds of demands are only something the D.A.'s office can respond to."

Percy smirked,

"But I'll be sure to let him know."

BREAK

Percy clinked the side of his glass against Montoya's, before tossing the cup back, and draining half of his beer in one, enormous pull. They were in Montoya's favorite bar, a few blocks away from the precinct, having a celebratory drink.

A representative from the District Attorney's office had come by shortly after Romanji's outburst. Percy had spent the majority of the afternoon in the interview room. A written statement was prepared that Romanji signed, and he confessed into a recording device, to the murder of John Dorsett, as well as Silver St. Cloud. He then spent the next several hours confessing to every job he had ever been hired to pull for either Christian Falcone, or someone else within the crime family.

In exchange for the confession, he was granted immunity for all crimes committed prior to the Dorsett and St. Clouds. Percy hadn't been made privy to the details, but he assumed the guy was going to get some kind of a lighter sentence as part of the deal he had struck with the District Attorney's office. Percy was pessimistic that the man would even face jail time for what he'd done. Whatever his deal was, probably included some kind of witness protection, or something to that effect. Which, could be a prison of its own he supposed.

It wasn't a perfect system, far from it he was honest. But the court system was overloaded, especially in a city like Gotham, and if a deal could be struck to keep someone out of maximum security, and keep the already overcrowded jails from getting worse, it would happen. Especially if the guy was going to flip on Falcone; something Percy had personally ensured would happen.

Before he had been taken away, Percy had left the manipulation in the man's mind. Forcing it warp his thinking and cloud his judgement in a way that fit the way Percy wanted things to go. Beyond morally reprehensible as it was, Percy could semi-justify it to himself, when he thought about the bigger picture. Men like Romanji wouldn't need to exist, if there weren't men like Falcone running around, looking for paid killers in the first place.

The dirty feeling didn't go away though.

So instead, Percy was going to try and bury the dirty feeling in copious amounts of alcohol, and maybe some company for the evening. That was, after he and Montoya finished celebrating their first case together.

The woman had been nothing but smiles since they'd left the precinct, a noticeable bounce in her step. Percy couldn't blame her, in spite of the pit of disgust for what he'd done, he was also able to bask in the euphoric feeling of success. They had busted their asses all week to get this thing locked down as tightly as possible. A lot of long days, longer nights, and a shootout in a museum. They deserved the win, and they deserved to celebrate.

Montoya rubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning as she spoke, "Thought the bastard was going to piss himself!" She laughed, pounding the bar with one hand as she set her now empty glass down. Swaying slightly in her seat.

Montoya, Percy had been quick to realize, was very much a lightweight. They'd only had a couple of drinks, nothing heavy, and she already looked like she was about to fall out of her stool.

Smiling, Percy killed off the last of his glass, and reached out to steady his partner, "Easy there Monty," he said with a chuckle,

"You know Metro," Montoya said, after Percy had steadied her somewhat, "I'm really thankful to have you as a partner. I was pretty hesitant at first, thought you'd be some shithead, but we complement each other well. I don't even have to worry about ya, because I can trust that you'll do the right thing. Growing up in this cesspit, that's not a luxury I've been able to afford much."

Percy was entirely sure how to respond to that. He was touched though, beyond words. So, he settled for a smile, "Thanks Monty…I really appreciate that. And I hope you know that I feel the same. With Roger, there was some growing pains, I still didn't know what I was doing, was overly eager and constantly trying to outdo him. He eventually beat some sense into me, and I learned to take it easy, but with you, I don't need to worry about any of that. I know I got someone who's more than my equal, someone I can learn from, and who can help me grow and watch my back. We're going to do a lot of good together, you and me,"

"Damn straight!" the woman cheered, clanging her glass against Percy's once more, despite the glass being empty.

He watched in minor amusement as she still swayed slightly and laughed happily. It was nice to see the woman unwind a little. In the time he'd known her, she'd been a little high-strung. Not that it wasn't understandable, but Percy was glad to see she still had the ability to cut loose. He had seen too many times, people who lost that ability, and either burnt out, or got lost in the process,

"You're not driving home, right?" Percy asked with a laugh, though he was serious. There was no way in hell he was letting her behind the wheel of a car as she was.

She waved off his concern, "Nah, Kate's coming to pick me up,"

Percy arched an eyebrow, "Who's Kate?" he asked, and Montoya instantly clammed up. Somehow managing to stop swaying as she turned to place both arms on the bar, "Just a friend," she muttered,

Well that's a crock Percy thought to himself, but decided not to say anything. He had his suspicions, but it wasn't his place to call her out on it. It was hard enough being a woman in the department, being a lesbian as well? Bad time.

Granted, Percy didn't know for certain, but he thought he had her pegged correctly. He didn't know many women to lecherously stare at other women like Montoya did, but it wasn't his place. She'd tell him when she was ready, and he was fine with that.

Montoya gestured to the bartender for another round, in a flash, a new couple of drinks were in front of Percy and Montoya.

Laughing softly, Percy pulled the cup closer, and for a moment, the two just sat in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, the pair were just trapped in their own worlds. Montoya was texting someone on her phone, her tongue poking through her teeth as she typed, and her arms still propped up against the bar.

Percy meanwhile, just scanned the scattered contents of the bar. It was quiet, not terribly surprising since it was a Thursday, so there weren't too many people there. A couple of day-trader types, sitting together at a table in the back, still in their suits from their day working the markets. A couple of college aged kids in the back corner, doing their absolute best to look like they belonged. Percy chuckled, and briefly considered going over there. Judging by the look of 'em, there was no way in hell that any of them were twenty-one, but it wasn't worth the hassle, and he wasn't on the clock.

Tracking his eyes along the wall, he stopped. There, along the back wall, sitting in an otherwise empty booth, was a woman. Dark auburn hair shaped around a heart-shaped face, and deep blue eyes. She was attractive, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, and her eyes bore into Percy across the bar. He stiffened, slightly unnerved by the way the she was staring at him, but his body didn't react defensively. Between the legion, and his time in the service, Percy had learned to trust his body to tell him when danger was present, it was always right and had never failed him before. And at that moment, it was telling him nothing, other than he supposedly had an attractive young woman's attention.

Montoya's loud belch, drew his attention away from the woman, and he smiled as he stared at his partner, who was standing up, and pulling her coat back on. Her new glass sitting empty on the bartop.

"My ride's here," she said, her words only slurring slightly, as she pulled her arms through the sleeve of her coat, she made to pull out her wallet but Percy stopped,

"It's already on my tab, Monty, don't worry about it," he assured her,

She beamed at him, "Capable and pays for my drinks? I think I'll keep you around Metro," she laughed, and Percy joined her,

"Next time's on you Monty," he replied cheekily, and she slugged him in the arm, before placing a palm on his shoulder,

"Good work Percy," she said softly as she turned to go, "We did some real good work today. Romanji might get cut loose, but we're about to reel in one of the biggest fishes in the pond, and it's due in large part to you."

Percy just smiled at her, reaching up and patting the hand on his shoulder, he didn't need to say anything. She understood. With a final wave, she turned on her heel and only slightly stumbled out of the bar. Watching her leave, Percy turned back around in his stool, and wrapped his hand around his beer. Pulling the glass to his lips, he didn't react as a body quickly took the spot Montoya had just vacated.

Percy didn't react for a minute, curious to see what the woman would do. It was clear she wanted something, what it was, he wasn't sure yet. He just knew that it wasn't the kind of attention he'd been necessarily hoping for. She looked curious, not interested.

"Detective Jackson," the woman finally said, after it became clear that Percy wasn't going to say anything to initiate the conversation.

Percy held back a sigh, he thought he knew where this was going. More to the point, he thought he'd recognized the woman,

"Miss Vale," Percy said, still not looking at her, instead swiveling back around in his seat, to lean back against the bar.

Percy was not in the mood for whatever conversation this woman wanted. He'd finally put a name to the face. He'd recognized her from some of the articles hanging around the Planet back in Metropolis. He also, and more notably, remembered the way in which Lois would complain about Vicki Vale from the Gotham Gazette-the owner of the Daily Planet-constantly trying to outshine Lois' own columns.

Vicki Vale, and that was undoubtably who the auburn-haired woman at Percy's side was, had nearly as good of a reputation as Lois did. Unfortunately for Vicki, she didn't have the beacon for truth, justice, and the American way as her resident city superhero. Instead she was stuck with a slightly unhinged lunatic, dressed as a bat, who beat the ever-loving piss out of criminals and supervillains.

People didn't want to read about the Bat, they much preferred the Boy Scout.

"Glad to see my reputation precedes me," Vale responded, only for Percy to snort into his glass, thinking of a snide comment, but deciding it wouldn't be smart for him to say anything.

It wasn't that he actively disliked Vale, if anything she was one of the few reporter's Percy thought he could stomach. The woman was nothing if not thorough, competent, and reliable. She had a drive that mirrored Lois', and she was fastidious in making sure she had all the facts and as much of the story as possible before reporting anything. More impressively, at least to Percy, was the way she managed to keep whatever personal biases out of her writing. Managing to distance herself from controversial stances and opinions, while keeping her writing open enough to allow her readers to form their own opinion.

So yes, Percy had, in fact, a good deal of respect for the woman. He just didn't want to have to deal with her at the moment.

Especially since he knew what she wanted.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Percy mused softly, Vale's eyes not leaving his face, "It figures that if anyone would know about the new guy in town, it would be you,"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vale said, shooting him a large smile, showing off her rows of pearly-white teeth.

Rolling his eyes, Percy still didn't look at her, or even turn to address her properly, "What can I do for you Miss Vale? And before you try and play any games, I'm very much not in the mood for, let's just skip the bullshit and jump into why you've been staring me down for the last ten minutes."

It had been a long, emotionally exhausting, and physically draining week. He just wanted a drink, time to relax, and be allowed to maybe decompress before he had to head into the precinct in the morning. In spite of the good feelings he'd been having at getting the confession and cooperation from Romanji, Percy was not in the mood to try and shake off a reporter.

"And should I even ask how you know who I am? I've literally been in the city for less than a week at this point." He asked, turning around to place his now empty glass on the bar-top. In a flash, the glass was taken and replaced. Percy took a moment to bless the fact that he could literally dilute the alcoholic content in his bloodstream if need be.

Vale tilted her head to one side, examining him curiously, "Lane told me about you," she finally said after a moment.

That got his attention; as he finally turned to look at the woman head on.

"Lane?" He asked, incredulous,

"As in Lois, yes." Vale said back easily, her tone dry and amused, "Sounded like she was pretty worried about you. Something going on I should know about,"

Percy had to force himself not to react to the question. Any type of over reaction on his part could be misinterpreted in a way he didn't want. For himself or for Lois, even if there might have been some truth to it. So instead, he settled for an unamused look, the kind he'd given fresh boots on deployment.

"Sheesh," Vale said, waving him off, "I'm just teasing you,"

"Why the hell would Lois ask you, of all people, to look for me,"

Vale crossed her arms under her chest, and glared at Percy, "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" She demanded hotly.

Percy continued to stare at her. The silence stretched on an uncomfortably long time, before Vale relented with a huff,

"You're as stubborn as she is, no wonder you got along," Vale grumbled to herself, before addressing Percy properly, "Ok, so maybe Lane and I aren't on the greatest terms, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil and professional with one another. Especially when she offers me an in, with the GCPD."

"She did what?" Percy demanded hotly, getting even more annoyed by the moment.

"She told me that you'd act as my insider source, just like you were for her, back in Metropolis." She answered sweetly, a honey suckle smile on her cherry lips.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Percy denied vehemently.

Truthfully, he knew exactly what she was talking about. It had happened back when he was still a junior, he'd gotten in over his head with Lois and Jimmy, after they'd gotten themselves out of the mess they'd made, they came to an…arrangement of sorts. People like Lois could often get to places and people that a cop couldn't. Simply being who she was, opened doors and got connections that Percy would never have. In exchange for helping Percy out on occasion, he would act as the insider of the MCPD, and give first-hand information to Lois and Jimmy on any big cases he ended up on.

"Look, Percy," Vale said, straightening in her seat, her sharp gaze softening somewhat, "I'm doing this, yes, because I want someone inside GCPD to feed me stories. From what Lois told me, you're a trouble magnet, and I'm sure if I stick around you, I'll be elbow deep in it. But…that's not everything." She looked marginally uncomfortable, and she shifted slightly in her seat,

"I've rarely heard Lois sound worried like she was, but she told me what happened to your last partner, why you transferred, she really just wants you to have someone you can rely on in the city, someone she trusts to look out for you. Gotham isn't Metropolis, as I'm sure you've already noticed, things happen here. I heard about your little shootout at Wayne's auction. That happens, frighteningly regularly here. You're going to need friends in this town if you want to survive a month."

Percy frowned at that, his chest clenching rather painfully at the thought of Lois being worried about him. But he squelched the feeling like he'd done so many times, with little effort.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked,

She shrugged, "Because Lois does. I know we have a…history," Percy snorted, which Vale ignored, "But we still respect one another. She told me you worked your ass off, that you were really one of the good ones. Something Gotham desperately needs. People in this city need people to look up to, who don't hide behind a mask. I think we could be those people."

Then she smirked, "Besides, you're a meal ticket I sure as hell wouldn't want to waste. Not even in Gotham a full week and you help take down the Royal Flush Gang and solve the homicide of the daughter of some of the most influential people in the city."

Percy froze, then sighed, "I shouldn't even be surprised that somehow you know about that, should I?"

She gave him a wicked smile,

"You really shouldn't be," she said, before extending a hand out, "So, what do you say? Partners?"

Before Percy could even think about responding, however, the earth itself began to shake. There was a loud crash from somewhere outside the building, as screams began to tear through the air outside. It sounded as though the earth itself was being torn open.

Percy acted on instinct, rising form the chair, making sure to throw down a wad of cash on the countertop as he did so, and charging out of the building. The sun was just starting to set, the orange glow of the fading light reflecting off the glass monoliths of the city's skyline. It would have been a beautiful sight, had it not been for the Armageddon taking place.

The earth itself, had indeed, opened up. Everywhere Percy looked, there were enormous holes in the earth. Craters and crevices in the concrete, and paved sidewalks. But that wasn't the most terrifying sight. Shooting up, high into the clouds and the skyline, were enormous vines, and plant-like creatures. They were dark green, and covered in red thorns.

And they seemed like they were alive.

The plants moved, writhed, and undulated. There was a creaking of metal beams, and the sounds of steel bars bending and breaking, and Percy watched in mounting horror, as the windows of a nearby building exploded, showering the street in glass, as another of the plant-like monsters rose from within. A few moments later, there was another screech of groaning metal, as the building itself collapsed around the plant. Dust, debris, and particulates exploded into the streets, and Percy had to raise a hand to his face, to cover his mouth from the rising dust storm.

"What the hell…" Came a trembling voice from beside him. Turning, Percy saw that Vicki Vale had followed him out of the bar, and was watching in mounting horror, as the city itself seemed to begin collapsing in on itself.

Percy grimaced, pulling his personal sidearms from the holster on his back. Quickly, he pulled the magazine from the holster as well, and slammed it into the weapon, before racking the slide, and loading a bullet into the chamber.

"Does Gotham have a bunker system like Metropolis?" Percy asked quickly,

Vale shook herself from her shock, turning to look at him, her eyes wide and scared, "N-no, we've seen some bad stuff over the years but nothing like this,"

Percy grimaced, he needed to get to work, he could screams coming from a nearby building, and he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, likely dispatch calling to relay orders, turning quickly back to Vale he issued his orders,

"I don't think anywhere will be truly safe, but head back inside the bar, and get the inhabitants to hunker down, get low, and under cover if at all possible. I'll find you when this is over,"

He didn't get a chance to hear her response, as he took off at a dead sprint in the direction of the trapped civilians, pulling his phone out of his pocket, he raised it to his ear,

"This is Jackson, what are my orders?"

It was time for the soldier, to head back to war.

AN: So, here we are again, using the mist in different ways. Since we literally know next to nothing as a fandom about what it can and can't do. Fuck it, it's god magic, what can't it do? Minor manipulation to receive a desired outcome, all at the expense of your own sense of morality and personal code of ethics. Percy you poor bastard. Aside from that, time to finally meet up again with the actual YJ plot!

I've been subtly building up to this for a while and I'm pumped that it's finally here. I've always loved the idea of watching regular people endure super villain attacks. Like what are regular folks doing when Batman is beating the piss out of some dude who's frozen half the city. What's going on there? This story largely explores that, and the ramifications of super heroism. Next chapter is the end of the arc, and includes some of my favorite scenes and exchanges I've ever written.

Also, it was brought to my attention that HBO is doing a show, set in the new Batman universe, centered around the GCPD. Think someone read my shitty fanfiction and decided it was a good idea?! Kidding, but maybe?

Thanks again for all the love and support, ya'll continue to be incredible! Stay safe, and love you all and I'll see you tomorrow for the final chapter of the arc!

Love,

LilDB