"2 days later

The clock on the wall ticked away, ticked, ticked. The room had little to offer when it came to amusements. Like any interrogation room you see in a cop movie, there was a large mirror glass on a wall, stood out like a saw thumb compared to the faded grey walls. When I had first arrived or shall I say, when I was first thrown in here by some cop who smelt of aftershave and donuts, I checked out the mirror glass, wondering if there were several cops concealed behind it, listening in on me. After the first hour, the mirror's charm disappeared, leaving me alone with my 2 empty chairs, a ticking clock and my thoughts.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken that corner!" I cursed, thinking back to that fatal moment when I ran into that cop. Both of us fell to the hard cement. The hot contents of his drink that had once been in his hand spilled across the pavement along with what looked liked his breakfast.
"You stupid kid!" He shouted, a heavy Irish accent twisted within everywhere word. "Look what you did!"
"He got to his feet first, his young face grimacing at me as he wiped his soaking stained wet shirt. I could tell he was about to curse some more when he fell silent, his eyes looking downward.
"Hey, where'd you get all that money?"

Next thing I knew I was being tackled to the ground, my arms handcuffed behind my back, me shouting abuse and false lies about the money as the officer read my rights before throwing me into the back of his cop car. Finger prints, photos and 2 hours later, here I am with Gotham's finest, the creeps didn't even ask if I wanted a drink!

Finally, the door opened followed by two stiffs. The first looked as if he hadn't washed for months, his shirt crinkled and stained while his beard had pieces of food stuck in it. The other was the complete opposite. His suit looked brand new while his appearance was pristine. All together these two looked like a match made in hell. "Sorry to keep you waiting, my name is detective Gordon and this is detective Bullock, we would like to ask you a few questions" I rolled my eyes, knowing already what questions they "would like to like": where did I get the money? How I got it and then how had I used it? All of these I wouldn't answer or if I did I had no intention of telling these two detectives the truth.

"So Anna, wanna explain to me why you're here?" Gordon asked.

"You tell me detective, isn't it your job to find out"

"Well I've got an officer outside who says that he found you with $300. When he asked you about it, he says you became abusive and violent. That true?"
"Is a crime in Gotham to have money?" I signed, finding all these questions a waste of time. I could tell detective Bullock was losing his patience. From the looks he was giving, I swear if he could, he would have thrown his chair at me. Gordon however was different. He sat, his back straight, his pale hands folded over the other on the table. Neither his face nor his posture gave away anything.

"How did you come across $300? Girl your age looks a bit young to be carrying around that kind of cash?"

"I had a lot of nice uncles"

"Look here missy!" Bullock shouted, slamming one hand onto the table "I've just about had enough of your lip! Now you tell us where you got the money from or I swear that you'll spend the rest of your life in a windowless cell!" Whatever Bullock wanted by raising his voice, whatever reaction he was hoping to get from me, it didn't work. After years of growing up with people like Bullock everyday, it's not difficult to understand why his sudden outburst had little effect on me.

"I told you detectives, I have a lot of nice relatives and besides, putting me in a cell would be the best option, would be a nice change from sleeping in an alley way"
Both Gordon and Bullock turned to one another, each looking at the other when suddenly there came a knock at the door.
"Sorry to interrupt but you asked, detective Gordon when Jerome Valeska had arrived. He's on his way now to room 4" the blue clothed officer explained as he stood half way within the door frame.

"Great, thank you, I'll be right out" Gordon said, making his way past Bullock before turning back towards me.

"Take her back to the main hall, I think what she needs most now is a hot drink" Gordon said, his lips curving slightly into what appeared to be a smile. Bullock on the other hand, stood up, his shouts of "But she..." followed with "Jim! Jim"" were the last sounds I heard before I was ushered out of the room by the blue clothed officer. Following the officer, I couldn't help but think how different Gordon was to the others. He seemed human, a rare quality considering the amount of times, I've had run ins with the law. It was this thought that passed through my mind when I suddenly laid eyes on him. Standing at the end of the corridor, our eyes locked on one another. An ice chill run down my spine, a feeling of dread came over me as I walked closer and closer.

"Oh why God!" I cursed "Why, of all places, why is he here?!"

I tried to think, tried to find another way; another means of getting out of here without going near him, but as I walked on, I realised that the only way out was right of this place was to go passed him. I could see his face, that smile, that uncomfortable, dangerous smile that had made me run. I was close, close enough to him, close enough for him to reach over and grab me.

"Well, well, fancy seeing you here. Is it fate, is it destiny?" He smiled "You know, I've never had a girl kick me that hard before. It was strangely pleasant"
"Shame I didn't hit you hard enough!" I snarled.

"Oh, feisty, I like that!" he grinned, standing closer to me.

"Jerome, detective Gordon is waiting in room 4 for you" the blue collared officer made his way towards us, thankfully, pushing us in different directions. His name was Jerome, Jerome Valeska.

"Oh time to go but don't worry" Jerome muttered, his eyes looking straight into mine "I'll be seeing you soon, you ain't seen nothing yet!"