She had a plan. A wonderfully, wicked plan, and with the help of a certain Detective, she could hatch the plan. She'd herself after it happened of course, but for now it seemed logical. Evy strode into the Gotham police department in the dove gray suit she had worn to a hearing, her hair had been tucked neatly into a French twist was now falling loose, to Blake's eyes she had never looked more beautiful. She swung into the seat across from him, left empty by his partner. One look at those gray eyes and he knew she had something up her sleeve. "What'd you do?" He asked without delay.
She blinked owlishly, smiled innocently. "No idea what you're talking about."
"Bullshit Eve," Blake leaned back in his chair. "What'd you do?"
"I may have an idea…"
"What did I say?"
"Don't make me cause a scene." She warned him with tilt of her head. He sighed, and waited. "So, hypothetically speaking if this guy is running for mayor, he's gonna need a what-do-ya callit? The person who sets everything up?"
"Campaign manager," answered John dully.
She snapped her fingers. "Right, yeah that, so…" She pointed at herself with a grin. "Boom. Whatcha think?"
He studied her silently for a moment, from the bright eyes, to the somehow childish desire to please him. He rubbed a hand over his face. "OK, let's think about this for a second," He ignored her excited squeal, and leaned forward on his desk. "If he finds out who you are, you know, the one who shot one of his goons and proceeded to threaten to make him bleed out…you remember that, right?" She shot him a glower. "For all we know he's got your pretty little face tacked on the walls with darts in them."
"You think I'm pretty?" She asked with a cocky smirk.
"Evelyn," John leaned back, he should have known it would be a pointless battle. "I won't be able to protect you if you go into this. You know that." She dropped her gaze, surveyed her dove gray nail color, and debated her options. Even before she lifted her head Blake knew what she would do, he saw the subtle signs no one else could see, the small shift of her shoulders going back, her jaw clenched only a little, but it was her eyes that gave her away, the sharpening look, hardened like stone. "Okay Eve," he whispered softly. "Go undercover." She lifted her gaze to his, realized that to both of them all the noise of the precinct had died out. A silent message passed between them, one that had yet to be said out loud was there as bright and hopeful as the sun after a storm.
0-0-0
Evy donned a blonde wig, blue contacts and a stunningly red dress that hugged her curves, which she covered with a black blazer, to complete the look she slipped on a pair of black framed glasses. "Dear god," she curled her lip at her appearance in the vanity mirror. "Well, here we go. Penguin meet…." She frowned and quickly dialed Blake.
"Yeah?"
"I need a name."
"Bob."
"A fake name, meatstick."
"Bobbi Starr." John answered; Owen glanced up from his paperwork with a furrowed brow. Blake waved his questioning look off. He hung up his phone. Pondered for a moment. "Hey Bennett, why does Bobbi Starr sound so familiar?"
"She's a porn star," Bennett answered with a wicked grin. John's face fell before he started laughing.
0-0-0
Evy breathed out a soft sigh as she entered city hall. She knew then Penguin, AKA Oswald Cobblepott was in here. It had spread through the city like wild fire that he was running against the current Mayor. She tugged at the bottom of her red as sin dress, and entered the records room. Her eyes did a quick sweep from the top balcony down to where Penguin sat with four of his men standing guard around the scarred wooden table, laden with certificates. She caught the eye of a tall, firmly muscle man and gave him a slow, sultry smile. His lips curved in reply, and under her watchful gaze he nudged his friend to look over. Without pause she turned and bent over to examine a leather bound book. She knew full well the move was giving them a good view of her ass, and even had the skirt rising just a little.
She waited until footsteps approached before she straightened and sent the tall goon a warm smile. "Do you need any help?" He asked, and leaned casually against the bookcase.
She smiled sheepishly. "I was actually wondering if that was Oswald Cobblepott…"
"It is."
"Oh gosh," she fluttered her hands a little, and smiled brightly. "Oh man, I'm a campaign manager, and if he doesn't have one—"
"Oh I'm sure he'd hire you…" The goon did a once over. "He'd hire you, be stupid not to. I'm Greg."
"Bobbi." She shook his proffered hand. She allowed him to keep her hand in his as he led the way over. She steadied her nerves, inside her jacket pocket she felt her iphone vibrating, and ignored it. Whoever it was would wait. Oswald lifted his head, and looked down his pointed nose with beady eyes at her. "Hello there Mr. Cobblepott, my name is Bobbi Starr." She heard a snicker from one of the other men. "I'm a campaign manager, I'd like to offer my services."
"And what services would those be?" The Penguin leaned back, placed his flipped type hands on his round belly and waited.
"Organization of rallies, gathering voters, selling you." She smiled winningly. "You can't lose."
"Sounds good to me boss." Greg said with a shrug. "She looks like she knows her stuff." Oswald spared him a glance, pondered and nodded. "Looks like you got it sweetheart."
"Looks like." Evy replied with a grin. "I'll get started on some signs. Here's my contact card." She handed over a pink business card, and winked at Greg before departing.