Thanks for the feedback, everyone! Hoping to keep up this pace. Here's some Jim, Harvey, and someone else that may be familiar. :)

(x)

"Hey, look who decided to drop by the office," Harvey called to Jim as he walked up the stairs to their desks.

Jim sent him a look and said in a hard voice, "Trust me, if it were up to me, I'd have been here earlier."

He sorted through a file. "What's got you so wound up this morning?" When Jim didn't answer, he looked up at him. His voice took the slightest concern, "Lee and the kidlet okay?"

Jim said, "Both fine."

Harvey stared at him for a moment. Then memory must have caught up with him because he said, "Holy crap, you actually went." Jim's silence seemed to further confirm it. "So was I right? Are you as certifiable as all-get-out? Or do you need another meeting with the head shrink

before we can make it official?"

Jim breathed out a frustrated sigh. "Let's just say I'm not exactly looking forward to a follow-up appointment."

He shook his head. "Tried to warn you." He reminded him, "Shark. Teeth."

Jim sat down across from his partner. "So you've seen her for therapy?"

"What? Hell no. That stuff's for crazy people."

Jim sent him a withering stare and then asked, "Come up with anything new while I was gone?"

Harvey said, "Ms. Taylor Reese reached out to us again from that Wayne subsidiary. That was a real treat."

Jim nodded, remembering her visit from when Viper was last on the street. He said dryly. "I doubt there's much chance she had anything new to say."

"You didn't miss nothin'." He sang out her statements, "They're not involved in the development of a drug of this fashion. We're welcome to visit the lab if we ever manage to scale the mountain of paperwork blocking our way."

Jim raised his eyebrows and said, "I imagine I'll enjoy filling out the forms just as much as I did last time."

"Don't waste your time. I left the room while she was still yakity yaking away," Harvey said.

"If I want a broken record, I'll stop by the the pawn shop on Fourth Street."

Jim already knew he'd still fill the papers out and that he in fact still had the copies from last time. He expected by now that Harvey knew both those things, too. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. I ran through the contents of the trucker's wallet and I found an appointment card for Veteran's Services. Turns out our trucker had been discharged from the army and was seeing a psychiatrist there for treatment. Guess who else had an appointment scheduled with their department last week?"

Jim said, "I'm guessing his last name started with Yanagi."

"Gold star for you." He said, "He just started getting services there last month. He was set to see them Thursday."

Jim squinted. "Same psychiatrist?"

"Wouldn't that be convenient? No such luck. Two different ones, both been working with Veteran's Services for decades. I ain't heard back from either of them." He leaned back in his chair. "Tell you this much. They don't get back to me asap? They're gonna hear a loud cop knock on their doors."

Jim found himself smirking. That wouldn't be all they'd hear if Harvey had anything to say about it, and usually he did. "That's good work," he said.

Harvey said, "Hey, somebody around here's gotta work while you're singing kum-bay-ya and doing trust falls."

Jim noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up at the Captain's office situated directly in the center of the second floor of the precinct. Behind the glass windows, Jim watched Barnes pace back and forth, his movements animated, yelling directly into the receiver of his landline. Jim turned half a face to Harvey when he asked, "Any chance you want to join me in talking with Barnes about whether or not to make this interesting piece of information public knowledge?"

Harvey put on his reading glasses and said, "Not for all the little plastic toys in China." He began sorting through the many bags of evidence gathered from Yanagi's EMT station and the cab of Torres' truck.

Jim breathed in through his nose and expelled through his mouth. He was working up the motivation to walk up to the door of Barnes' office when he saw her. Selina Kyle struggled against the police-issued cuffs that secured her hands behind her back. The police officer bringing her in shuffled her past desks just a fraction rougher than was necessary. She made a face. "Hey, Tiny!" The older, mustachioed overweight cop cast her half a stare. "You don't have to drag me around like a piece of luggage just because you can't wait to get to your next doughnut."

He sneered at her. "Maybe you should have thought about that before you lifted that woman's wallet from her purse."

"I gave it back."

"Yeah, only after I told you I'd let you go if you did."

"Way to keep your word on that," she mouthed off.

He found something funny about that. "Sounds like that's a you problem." He slammed her down into a wooden chair. "Stay put. You move, and I'll be on your keister like white on rice."

Selina muttered something about the only reason he'd move is to get white rice into his keister. He shouted back, "I heard that!"

She matched his tone. "Sounds like that's a 'you' problem."

Harvey looked at Jim over top of his reading glasses. "Looks like your favorite CI's here for her regularly scheduled legal check-in."

Jim replied, "She's not my CI."

"Please. If anybody in this godforsaken city knows what a source looks like, it'd be me."

Selina waited just until her Officer Friendly was out of earshot, and she went to work. Jim watched her fiddle with something small, slim, and metal and fish it down into the lock of her handcuffs. He blinked, nodded to himself, and pleasantly strolled, taking the long way around to the front doors of the precinct.

The kid worked fast. She made it all the way to the double doors before Jim stepped forward, effectively blocking her path. "Hi, Selina."

"Cat," she shortly corrected.

"Little trouble downtown?"

"Nothing I couldn't work my way out of."

Jim gently led her back to where the officer planted her. He weighed the pros and cons of re-cuffing her and decided that at this exact moment the effort would be gainless.

"So," she said, resting her right booted foot comfortably against her left knee. "Get stuck in any sewers lately?"

He answered back, "Get pulled in for any misdemeanors lately?"

She looked away from him and flashed her eyes. "The cop said he'd cut me loose."

Jim said, "That your end game? To have someone cut you loose?"

"Most the time," she said, as if it should have been as clear as the nose on her face.

"Then, sit down. Take a minute and see if you can give me something worth cutting you loose for."

Her smirk took up her whole face. "I ain't a snitch."

"You've given us intel before."

She rephrased, "I ain't -your- snitch."

"Look," he leveled with her. "We've had this talk before. You know I only request information when it has to do with keeping people safe."

"Yeah. The -right- people safe." She sneered, "Why should I stick my neck out?"

Jim paused and said, "Because you and the prospect of juvy haven't mixed well before."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He saw in the moment that he had a chance. So he took it. "Do you know anything about a new drug out on the street, or anything about people who are just suddenly gone for no good reason?"

"This is Gotham," she said. "If you hadn't noticed, people have a way of disappearing around here."

Jim said, "Not just disappearing. People going into hospitals, into emergency rooms and not coming out, when they should be out in no time."

"Sorry, Jimbabwe," Selina said. "Got nothin' for you."

He nodded, taking it in stride. "Well, if you hear anything…"

"Don't worry. I know where to find you."

That much he could count on. Jim leaned down behind her, grabbed up the pick she kept in her leather glove, and this time attached the cuffs and her wrists to the wood of the chair. "Sit tight."

"Ha ha. Real funny. Don't quit your day job."

He walked away, heading up to the Captain's office, when he found himself repeating softly, "Jimbabwe?"

(x)

Cat sighed out an irritated little sigh through her teeth like steam. Just because Gordon took away her pick, he thought she'd still be here when he got back from wherever he stormed off to, presumably to stand victoriously in front of an American flag or tell a room for a kids to just say "no" to drugs. She'd be outta here soon enough. She had another pick wedged into the side of her boot. She just needed a distraction. Selina looked from face to face. Cop, cop, office drone, crook, cop, crook, cop.

Another officer brought in a kid not far from her own age and dropped him into a seat across from her. He wore his own set of metal bracelets, too. "Simmer down," the officer said. "If I need to put you in lock-up, I will."

"Bite me, numnuts." He spit on the floor. "I'm fifteen."

The officer smiled sarcastically and said, "You look eighteen to me."

When the cop walked away, Selina nodded to the kid. "Hey, Pete. How's tricks?"

He looked over and grinned. "Hey, hey, Cat. Didn't know they made cuffs that could hold you."

"They don't," she quipped, half-smiling. "Just waiting for my moment."

"Well, don't let me stop you. What're you in for?" he asked.

"Didn't do it. You?"

"They got the wrong guy. I was framed."

They shared another smile. Selina glanced up to check on Gordon. He stood in the doorway of an upstairs office. He and Mr. Clean talked about something that made Mr. Clean a mite bit upset. She shook her head at Gordon. She found herself sighing again. She made a quick hiss at Pete and got his attention. "Hey, let me ask you something. You hear anything about a new drug on the street?"

Pete quirked his lips to one side in thought and offered, "I had some X in my pocket. Had to drop it in a storm grate."

"No," Cat said, rolling her eyes. "A new drug? Something nobody's heard of before."

Pete shook his head. "Not lately. Can't hardly trust any dealers not to shister you out of extra cash. Sad state of affairs out there."

She glanced back up at Gordon. Whatever he said had Mr. Clean's face turning the ruse of a ripe tomato. Cat held off a moment and then asked, "You hear anything about people getting ghosted? Like they check into a hospital for something stupid and just …"

"Don't check out?" Pete asked. "Yeah. Had a couple people warn me not to go to anyone for medical work if I could help it. Then, I had this friend who met this…" A cop walked past and stopped to look through the files on the desk beside them. Pete said, "This 'electrician' in a warehouse downtown who happened to be purchasing supplies for his 'night job'."

Cat squinted and said, "Oh, yeah? What'd this 'electrician' have to say?"