Hello and thank you, readers! Hope your week is off to a good start. Over here, my 2 year old has been sleeping well and mostly behaving. (A clear sign that it's due to end soon at any moment…) So big thanks to my son for letting me write and post at this pace. I had fun with this chapter. I hope you'll have some fun with it, too. :)

Rated M: for Im(Mature), as just about every scene that takes place on the floor of the GCPD is...

(x)

A few days after her last visit to Blackgate, Madeline walked the floors of the GCPD and realized with mild interest that she was being ostracized by most of the precinct. The officers didn't slap 'kick me' signs to her back or spit at her as she passed them in the hallway. It was nothing that overt or blatant. But she caught the stares of ill will and the grimaces that came across the faces of most the detectives as she glided through her workday. Apparently, one of the prerequisites for becoming a GCPD detective was being able to throw serious side-eye.

That didn't stop Madeline from walking the floor like she bought and owned the place. She did it with her head held high and her face serene.

Haters gonna hate. It wasn't like she came there to meet nice people anyway.

She walked up into Harvey's world just outside the Captain's office. He was hunched over his desk, working hard on his dinner. His jacket hung lopsided on the back of his chair, and without it, he showed off his shoulder holster and badge. In between bites of food, he read over some sort of paperwork to his left and muttered something about assholes.

Here we see the Harvey Bullock in his natural habitat.

He was too focused on scarfing down the food inside a family-sized tupperware container to notice her quietly observing.

Without looking up, he said, "If it isn't the GCPD hall monitor."

Or maybe not.

Madeline replied, "So I'm getting the feeling you don't really care about the officers in this place who go from one abuse of power to another."

"See, that's what you got it all wrong." He pressed out, "I absolutely don't care. I got enough problems without worrying about somebody else's shitpile. It's pretty freeing. You might want to give it a try sometime, doc."

She let off a disgusted sigh. "Okay, if you're going to just sit here and mock me, the least you could do is-" She stopped suddenly and her eyes went wide as she stared down at the contents of the tupperware container. Her voice lowered to a respectful hush. "... Oh my God, is that Regina Bullock's Chicken Pot Pie?"

A sly smile eased across his face. "Well, well, well. Look who can suddenly be taken off task by a few good leftovers." He kicked back for a second. "But here's the rub. If y'want any you're gonna have to ask pretty please with a cherry on t-"

She was deathly serious. "Pretty please with a cherry on top."

He lazily reached down into the bottom drawer and pulled out a plastic spoon for her, the type Chinese food restaurants give out, wrapped in plastic with a paper-thin napkin. "C'mon, girl. Get in on this."

Madeline freed up the spoon and dug in with abandon. She closed her eyes as she took that first bite. It melted in her mouth. It was flaky and crisp and rich and sunk down like warm molasses into her stomach. She stood completely still so she wouldn't actually swoon.

With her eyes still closed, she heard Alvarez approach and slam down hard into Jim Gordon's desk chair. Or what she still considered to be Jim Gordon's desk chair anyway. He started in immediately. "I'm officially over this whole streetwalking, ass-grabbing primadonna scene. You can find yourself a new shemale. I'm done."

Madeline still savored the first bite. "I cannot impress enough how important it is for you to be quiet in this moment."

He asked derisively. "Are you really gonna eat that whole thing?"

She answered on a dime, "I am really gonna eat this whole thing. Then I'm gonna let off a monster burp and it's gonna smell like a zoo in here."

Harvey said, "She's got her game face on. We're gonna need to febreeze the shit out of this place."

She said, "Glass houses, Harvey."

Alvarez shot her a look. "For the record, I was talking to the Wildebeest over here. Not you."

It took Harvey a second, but then he retorted lazily, "Hashtag wildebeest for life. Hashtag how many more wildebeests."

Madeline cast him a stare in between bites. "You're on twitter now?"

"I'm not on anything. The only thing I hate more than the generation under me is social media." Then he added, "And every computer ever."

She nodded as this fit with her understanding of his personality, low patience threshold, and worldview.

Alvarez got up in an irritated huff and stalked away from their desks.

Madeline asked, "What's up with Priscilla Queen of the Desert?"

"I think it's her time of the month."

"Well, you know. It's hard. To be a girl." She scooped up another heaping spoonful and when she was done chewing, she asked, "So … does the fam know I'm back in town?"

Harvey shrugged. "Last I checked they've got cable."

Madeline leaned back against the railing by his desk and lightly crossed her arms. "Something's telling me that I should 'be gone' before someone drops a house on me."

He screwed up his face in sudden disagreement. "Nah," he drew out. "It ain't like that. They're doin' Thanksgiving at Jackie's this time around." He spoke through his next bite. "She'll probably invite you over. Probably tell ya to bring a date."

Her eyebrows went up and her mouth dipped down in moderate surprise. "How's the personal investigation you're not doing?"

Harvey sat back and thumbed at the scuff on his neck. "I'm makin' some headway, but I'm still not connecting the dots." He said, "Lucky for me I got more than enough reasons to be outside this place. I get in half my little chats with locals while Alvarez is shaking his little tush on the catwalk."

"Look at you. You're a regular Phillip Marlowe."

"This is what I do. I put on my hat, and I go pokin' around and hope somethin' stirs."

"Whenever you hunt down, you know, the actual murderer you're supposed to be bringing to justice, you're gonna have to find another front."

"There's one thing I don't have to worry about," he said in a breath of frustration. "I was generally annoyed by this clown on principle. Now, this sumabitch is just pissing me off. I'm out every night 'til the sun comes up and not in the fun way." Harvey grumbled, "Now, I just want to catch this asswipe so I can get the fuck back to sleep."

Leave it to Harvey to be more inconvenienced than creeped out by a Mike Myers serial killer.

Alvarez clumped loudly up to his desk in his kitten heels, looking somehow both dejected and infuriated. Both were undercut by the fact that he'd gone full drag queen with his askew blonde wig and his makeup which could be labelled "too garish" by Joan Rivers' standards. To say the dress he wore was yellow was an understatement. It was a hue just slightly brighter than a bursting supernova.

Harvey didn't even look up. "You ready to make it rain, princess?"

Alvarez reared up and pointed down at him. "You know somethin'? I'm gettin' really sick and tired of all the bullshit name-calling that's goin' on around here."

"All right, first of all, calm down, Birdcage. Second, you might want to remember back to when you called me a Wildebeest like five freakin' minutes ago."

"Yeah, thanks. I don't need a replay."

He stood and shrugged into his leather jacket. "I'm gonna go sign out a car. I'll be back in two shakes."

As Harvey made his way around the perimeter of the desks and back toward the annex, Madeline snuck a glance over at Alvarez. "So I take it you are you no longer enjoying monetizing your sexuality?"

He mouthed back at her. "I swear to God, this is the last night - the last night - I'm doing this shit. Tomorrow I'm gonna tell Barnes that I'm taking a day off and he can find a rookie to put in a dress and leave on a corner."

Madeline smirked to herself. "If you really want to get out of work, just start crying and tell him you have lady problems. Always works for me."

Alvarez shook his head, frowning deeply and said, "You know what? I get this day in and day out, and you all can go fuck yourselves far as I'm concerned."

She watched him carefully for a moment, and then she let her facial features relax from her mocking smile into something gentler. "... What do you mean you get this day in and day out?"

"The hell do you think I mean? I'm a walking punchline the second I step in here. Then I'm out on the corner, and I can't walk two steps without some dude either grabbing my ass or throwing me shade."

Madeline found herself frowning. "The girls on the street are giving you a hard time?"

He said, "They call me Eurotrash on a holiday."

"Well… you know, drag queens. Those bitches are mean."

"You don't know the half of it."

Madeline blinked, put aside her spoon, and stepped forward. She reached out and grabbed up Alvarez under the arm. "C'mon. Get up. Come with me."

His eyes bugged. "What?" He flinched, but he still stood up. "What's this? Where're you takin' me?"

(x)

Madeline sat perched on the edge of the sink of the ladies' room while Alvarez settled into a desk chair she appropriated from one of the backrooms. The girl's room at the GCPD had all the class of a railroad shanty and all the charm of a truck stop. Though some of the graffiti was a little more highbrow than she would have expected. She thought the "Pull here for MFA degree" right underneath the toilet paper dispenser was pretty witty by Gotham's standards.

Madeline uncapped her liquid eyeliner and instructed Alvarez to look up at the ceiling. He talked while she applied. "It's like they spend all day just thinking of fucked up shit to say once I walk out onto the scene. They said the only thing I can turn on is a microwave."

"C'mon, that's not that bad."

"Then they said, 'You must've been born on a highway 'cause that's where accidents happen.'"

She changed her tune. "Ouch." Then. "Okay, don't blink."

"Sorry," he said without thinking. "Then I gotta go home to my wife and she bitches at me for having lipstick on my collar. And I'm like, 'Look, woman, what do you want from me? It's my lipstick.'"

Madeline wanted to roll her eyes. 'Look, woman.' "So there's no way she bought that one."

"I'm at the Motel Six. The way things are goin' it's gonna be my permanent address," Alvarez said. "But it's right next to the Denny's, and that's where all the trannies go for breakfast once the sun comes up anyway. So, that sorta works for me."

She cleared her throat, a good therapist trick, so she wouldn't laugh at the mental image and send the wrong message. Around them, the air grew thick with steam. When they first walked in, Madeline set up his wig and a much more tasteful dress attached to a hanger just outside the shower stall before turning the nozzle on 'hot' as far as it would go. Thank God for life hacks.

She finished up with the eyeliner and moved onto eye shadow. "Those drag queens are tough as nails. But you're the new girl in town. They're probably just hazing you."

He frowned. "So it's like a sorority thing?"

"Sort of," Madeline said hesitantly. "Think about it this way. Every time you and Harvey come back off the streets, you usually pull in a whole clown car full of no-good, rotten perps who think you're sweet arm candy. Right?"

"Well," he allowed, "Yeah."

"Okay, so they're threatened by you. Here you come. This little sexpot fresh out the gate, and you're taking away all their business."

"So I'm like steppin' on their toes?"

"More like they're jealous of you. They want to ice you out or at the very least throw you off your game. So try to look at it this way… being hated on by a bunch of bitches is probably the best way to know you're doing it right."

Alvarez seemed to think on that for a long moment. Then he asked suddenly, "Does this stuff come off with remover?"

"Yeah, also it's hypoallergenic."

He said respectfully, "No shit."

"You gotta pay a little extra, but it's totally worth it." She smudged the dark mahogany brown eye shadow in with the light pastel pink. "But anyway, when you're dealing with mean girls, it can't hurt to have a few good comebacks in your back pocket. Just in case."

He cleared his throat. "Like, uh, which ones would … you know… you…"

"Would I use?" Madeline thought about it for a minute. "You might want to try … 'If you're waiting for me to give a shit, you better pack a lunch. It's gonna be awhile.' Or … 'The dumbfuck store called. They're running out of -you-.'"

He gave a clear nod of approval. "I'll have to remember that one."

Her lipstick opened with a satisfying 'pop'. "Okay, push your lips out like this…" She demonstrated and Alvarez followed suit. "Or, you could say, 'Daaaammnn, girl! Are you a smoke detector?" She lowered her pitch to sarcasm-level. "'Cause you're really fuckin' loud and annoying."

When she pulled away the lipstick, he pressed his lips together and moved them around. Then said, "How do you come up with all that?"

"I don't." She took a deep breath and announced, "These are all things that have been yelled at me. So my humiliation is now a wealth of information from which you can benefit." She said, "If you really get backed into a corner by these queens, just start spouting off lines from a girl power song. Something by Beyonce or Lily Allen. If nothing else, it'll create a distraction and give you a second to come with something better."

Alvarez sat silently for a moment as Madeline began to pack away all the contents of her make-up case. "You know…" He seemed to be working up to something, and as such, she gave him a minute. "Back when, I asked you if you wanted to dress up like a prostitute?" Madeline nodded that yes, she did vaguely recall that. "I only asked you because you can handle yourself, you know? Like in most situations."

She all but fell off the sink at the shock of hearing what sounded like a compliment trying to happen.

He added, "And you're like, attractive."

She was about to say something, when Alvarez tacked on, "You know... for a woman of your age."

Madeline immediately said, "Okay. Thank you." Alvarez went to add something else, but she spoke overtop of him. "No. Don't. Just, thank you. Stop."

She motioned for Alvarez to stand, and when he did, he looked at himself wide-eyed in the mirror. Then he turned to her and said, "Wow." He checked himself out again. "I look bangin'."

"Yeah, you're smoking hot." Then she drew in a deep breath. "Okay. Let's get your wig."

Moments later, Madeline walked out of the ladies' room with Alvarez. She'd dressed him in a slinky dark purple cocktail dress that she'd found in the very back of the closet of day-to-night hooker-wear that hadn't been updated since the late '80s. It showed off his toned arms and paired well with his skintone. She'd secured the wig with bobby pins and selected jewelry for him that was both striking and understated.

Despite the makeover transformation that put Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman to shame, the men and women of the precinct reacted in just the same way they always had.

"Lookin' good, sexy!"

"Damn, child! You got the shoulders of a linebacker!"

One of the officers walked past and said, "Hey, sugar tits, you want some fries with that shake?"

Alvarez shot back. "You know, I just checked google and acting like a dick won't make yours bigger."

The room erupted in low whistles, chants of approval, and a 'kitty's got claws'.

The officer brayed back. "Hey! What the hell, asshole?"

Alvarez offered him a manly, "I'm a free bitch, baby."

Madeline stood, mouth open. She didn't even realize that she'd started clapping, along with several others in the precinct. She also didn't notice that Harvey had saddled up right beside her.

He pushed his hat up off his forehead. "Who lit a fuse on her tampon?"

She turned to him and said, "Hey, don't throw off her groove. She's on tonight."

Harvey shook his head and didn't even bother to make a snarky comeback as he hurried to follow Alvarez out of the station to their car.

Madeline sat down at Harvey's desk and grabbed up a spoon. She called after him. "I'll just be over here…" She happily settled herself into his seat. "Catching up with the chicken pot pie…"

(x)

Harvey and Alvarez got an actual honest-to-God lead close to two in the morning. They learned that one of the drag queens had seen Thirsty Lisa (their second victim) climb into a dark blue Chrysler Town and Country with a 'fish on the bumper' the night she was killed. After a moment of pure confusion, Harvey realized that they meant they saw an ichthys, better known as the line-drawing of a fish that meant "Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ". So they were either looking for a knife-wielding soccer mom, or like Gordon said, their suspect was a little more on the bible-thumping side of things.

They rolled back into the precinct only a couple hours before the sun was due to come up. As per usual.

Alvarez walked barefoot back toward the locker rooms, holding his high heels in one hand by the dainty straps. Harvey followed after him. He felt punchy. There was a hot shower in his future. Both of them came to a halt as they walked past Madeline's office. They looked through the open door to find her sprawled out fast asleep, leaning back in her desk chair, feet propped up on her desktop.

He arched an eyebrow. Then memory assisted him. The chicken pot pie. It doubled as knock out juice.

Just outside the door, Harvey moved over to the nearest water cooler and poured himself a full cup.

Alvarez saw and his eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Aw, c'mon. I'm just … I'm just kidding." He grinned and started drinking the water. He nodded over to her and said in a soft voice. "Why would I go and ruin it? She's nice like this."

Alvarez continued on his way back to the lockers, no doubt to change into something that wasn't featured on the front cover of 'Debutante Weekly', and despite what he'd said, Harvey padded softly, like a cat on velvet carpet, into her office. He walked over to the wicker chair in the far corner and scooped up the plush throw blanket resting in the seat.

In gentle movements, he laid the blanket down over-top of her. He was about to leave, when she shifted slightly in place. Madeline's breath hitched as she blinked open her eyes. She looked up at him, a little confused to see him there. When she smiled at him sleepily, he felt his pulse quicken.

His face pulled into a half-smile. "'Morning, sunshine."

She yawned. "I must've dozed off. … What time is it?"
"It's a little past three a.m. Me and Alvarez just schlepped in."

He watched her realize it just like he had. "Regina's Chicken Pot Pie strikes again."

"You're outta practice. That stuff ain't for amateurs."

Madeline sat up a little and the blanket slid down. She brushed strands of hair out of her eyes. "I'm sure I'm looking quite the picture."

He murmured in clear approval, "Yes, you are."

Her mouth parted open slightly, empty of a response.

Then, they both jolted at the knock on her door. "Hey, Bullock." He turned around to see Alvarez out of his wig, but still in his dress. "You got any bar soap? I left mine back at the motel."

"Yeah, I'll hook you up." Harvey looked back to Madeline. "You gonna head home?"

"Yup, and then I'm gonna climb into bed and sleep for hours."

"Sure, rub it in why don't ya?"

She grinned and did just that. "I'm gonna pull the blinds shut. I'm gonna curl up in my comforter. Sleep like it's my job."

"Haven't you had enough? Somebody oughtta cut you off."

She stretched her arms all the way up. "It's like you always say, detective. It's five 'o clock somewhere."