![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Witness Statements (DC Comics, Challenge Fic, PG)
Title: Witness Statements
Fandom: DC Comics, Gotham Central specifically.
Rating: PG
Summary: Six views of one case.
Characters: Officer Renee Montoya, her partner, her SO, and witnesses in a case.
Pairing: Daria/Renee
Written For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
petronelle, with all my love, as a ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
yuletide New Year's Resolution.
Beta Who Made This Work:brown_betty
Disclaimer: Do I look like Greg Rucka?
"... So this guy, he's standing there staring in the window rubbing his forehead, right? Ordinary looking guy, you know? Kinda tall, kinda thick in the middle, I gave a description to the other officer when I came in. I don't even know why I glanced up at him. But he just kept staring and staring, and I thought he was gonna try and steal something... and then I looked where he was staring.
"The creep was staring right at my little girl Amy. She was sitting in the window playing dollies, she does that sometimes, and it helps business, you know, a little girl in a toy shop window. But I won't let her sit there no more, not after this jerk. I ran right out and told him to get lost, sent her to my office in the back. I had a weird feeling after that, so I locked up early and took her home, and that's how I caught the news, saw how that little girl that was taken, she looks just like my Amy, with a head all full of curls. That coulda been us! So I had to come down and say something, you know, Officer? I hope it helps you catch that bum..."
***
"... I can't believe it, I still can't believe it. The kids are my responsibility! I always check, I swear I check. I was going to check... but she seemed so nice, so well dressed, so quiet and polite... I'm babbling. I can't be making any sense.
"The kids were doing katas, I was updating the log, when this lady came in. Not very tall, neat and trim, wearing a fabulous little gray suit with her curls clipped up atop her head. I wanted to ask her where she got the suit, can you believe it? She looked so much like Teesha, I mean, Leticia Johnson, God, I can't... I'm sorry, I just. I can't believe I let her get kidnapped. And that's not helping. Um.
"She looked shy, pushing nervously at her forehead, so I asked her if I could help her, and she said she'd come to pick up one of the kids, so I asked if she was Teesha's aunt, and she smiled. I thought I'd gotten it right, oh God, I'm so stupid. I told her I just had to check the file of authorized guardians... the people who have permission to pick the kids up. And when I came back she wasn't there, and Dr. Johnson was talking to Jake, and when Jake turned around and asked me where Teesha was... I just... I'm so sorry. I can't believe I lost one of the kids. I'm so sorry."
***
"... And I admit, I wasn't really paying attention to the gentleman, because, well, there were these young people and they were so loud, and their music on those pod-things they have these days! So I kept my eye on them, to make sure they didn't take anything, because who knows what they were doing in my wing of the Children's department. It wasn't until they'd paid for two outfits and I'd made sure their money wasn't fake, that I saw him walking away with a dress.
"So I called out, 'Sir!' I said, 'you can pay for that here, sir, and there's a special promotion on Misses' formalwear,' and that's as far as I got, because he jumped and patted his forehead, as if I'd startled him, and then he ran right into the beachwear display and, oh, God in Heaven, my heart leaped into my throat!
"He melted, into brown mud, his suit and his shoes and his everything! It flowed around all the beachwear and piled up on the other side, and it was like a man made of mud running off down towards Toys and Games, and I've lived in Gotham my whole life but I never saw one of those freaks until today. But he must have been one, wasn't he? No human can become mud like that!"
***
"... Most recently I was on the Clayface's corridor, yes. But I did not speak with the creature. They teach us, in our training, not to speak with the inmates, and so say all the senior guards as well. And why would I converse with the criminally insane? I have my work to do, and I do it, and that is enough. The Clayface would try to speak with me, though. Every day. It would appear as Doctor Arkham, as other guards, as other patients, as pretty women. As fantasies. As fictions. But I was never fooled. Then, two days ago at the 6-o-clock check, it did not speak or move, I saw nothing in its tank but a huddle beneath the blanket. That seemed... it did not seem right, and I reported it, and again at 4-o-clock. Yesterday, I was told the night guard had found the blanket heaped up over puffed up trash bags, and a gap cracked between the glass and the floor. You will ask him yourself, Officer?"
***
"...Why are you asking me all these questions? What does this have to do with getting my daughter home safe? I don't know these people, I've never heard of Karlo or Payne or Fuller. Where would I ever have met them? Aren't they criminals? I'm a chemist, I work for the government!"
"In fact," Renee said, bending her head as if glancing at the file, "you work in the Department of Extranormal Operations' Gotham office. What sort of chemistry you do for them, Dr. Johnson?"
"I can't talk about that. It's---"
"So classified you won't tell me, even if it helps us find your daughter alive and unharmed?" She looked up as she spoke, holding his gaze..
It was less than ten seconds before he dropped his head into his hands. "Okay. Okay. I've been working on the Clayface containment project for two years now; sixteen months ago, they brought us a child Clayface, he's still in custody... and his parents want him back. I don't know how they found me, but they emailed me ten days ago, then day before yesterday. My bosses said not to worry, the Clayfaces were in Arkham... and now this, now they've got my daughter. They've got my daughter."
"We'll need those emails, sir. Did they suggest a meeting place? An exchange?"
Head still in his hands, Dr. Johnson nodded. "Killinger's west entrance."
***
Renee found Cris leaning against 4B's window glass, a little smile creasing his cheek. "How is she?"
"Teesha's fine. Her dad, on the other hand, is still blubbering." Cris nodded to the scene inside the room, where Dr. Johnson was desperately hugging his daughter while the paramedic packing up her kit tried not to smile.
Renee was finding keeping a grin off her own face pretty difficult. "I can't believe you let him in already, after the way he held out on us."
"Hey, the man's kid was abducted. It seemed right to be merciful."
"Mercy? In Gotham?" Renee snorted. "Did you at least let him know he's staying the night?"
"I'll break his heart soon enough. The APB out?"
"Oh, yeah. 'Be on the alert for anyone, male female or other, no set race, build, or age, whose nervous tic is rubbing their forehead.' How do you catch a guy like that?" Cris shrugged again, rolling his eyes towards the roof, and Renee set her teeth. "Hell, no. No. Anyway, I need a change. I'm going home for an hour."
"Make it six," Cris suggested. Renee lost her fight against the smile.
***
"As usual," Daria said, running a hand through Renee's hair, "you win the Bad Day prize. Though I think an idiot busboy should earn me some points. I don't know why Benji hired him; no matter how pretty he is, we need him to do more than stand in the kitchen doorway rubbing his forehead and looking confused."
"What?" Renee sat up. "What'd you say, Dee?"
Daria gave Renee the 'you are insane and I love you' face. "That our new busboy isn't worth shit, all he does is stand around confused and---"
"---Rubbing his forehead." Renee stepped back into her pants, grabbing the phone as she stumbled towards the door, punching the speed dial as she shoved her feet into her shoes. "C'mon, Cris, pick up."
"Ren? Where are you going?" Renee turned, hand on the doorknob; Daria was getting up from the sofa. "Renee, talk to me---"
"The busboy, Benji has his address on file, right?"
"Yeah, but what---"
"Today's case. There could be a connection." Renee's phone lay still against her palm; Daria laid her hand on Renee's shoulder. "It's just a hunch..." Especially considering the millions of people in Gotham, or how many of them probably rubbed their foreheads.
But Daria nodded. "Oh. Oh, okay." She slipped her hand behind Renee's neck as she smiled. "Just be careful out there, all right?"
"Always." Renee leaned in for a kiss, and was thinking of another when her phone buzzed in her hand. So Daria let her go.
It was Cris. "Hey, partner." Renee locked the door behind her and jogged down the stairs. "It's a long shot, but we might have something."
Fandom: DC Comics, Gotham Central specifically.
Rating: PG
Summary: Six views of one case.
Characters: Officer Renee Montoya, her partner, her SO, and witnesses in a case.
Pairing: Daria/Renee
Written For:
petronelle, with all my love, as a yuletide New Year's Resolution. Beta Who Made This Work:
brown_bettyDisclaimer: Do I look like Greg Rucka?
"... So this guy, he's standing there staring in the window rubbing his forehead, right? Ordinary looking guy, you know? Kinda tall, kinda thick in the middle, I gave a description to the other officer when I came in. I don't even know why I glanced up at him. But he just kept staring and staring, and I thought he was gonna try and steal something... and then I looked where he was staring.
"The creep was staring right at my little girl Amy. She was sitting in the window playing dollies, she does that sometimes, and it helps business, you know, a little girl in a toy shop window. But I won't let her sit there no more, not after this jerk. I ran right out and told him to get lost, sent her to my office in the back. I had a weird feeling after that, so I locked up early and took her home, and that's how I caught the news, saw how that little girl that was taken, she looks just like my Amy, with a head all full of curls. That coulda been us! So I had to come down and say something, you know, Officer? I hope it helps you catch that bum..."
***
"... I can't believe it, I still can't believe it. The kids are my responsibility! I always check, I swear I check. I was going to check... but she seemed so nice, so well dressed, so quiet and polite... I'm babbling. I can't be making any sense.
"The kids were doing katas, I was updating the log, when this lady came in. Not very tall, neat and trim, wearing a fabulous little gray suit with her curls clipped up atop her head. I wanted to ask her where she got the suit, can you believe it? She looked so much like Teesha, I mean, Leticia Johnson, God, I can't... I'm sorry, I just. I can't believe I let her get kidnapped. And that's not helping. Um.
"She looked shy, pushing nervously at her forehead, so I asked her if I could help her, and she said she'd come to pick up one of the kids, so I asked if she was Teesha's aunt, and she smiled. I thought I'd gotten it right, oh God, I'm so stupid. I told her I just had to check the file of authorized guardians... the people who have permission to pick the kids up. And when I came back she wasn't there, and Dr. Johnson was talking to Jake, and when Jake turned around and asked me where Teesha was... I just... I'm so sorry. I can't believe I lost one of the kids. I'm so sorry."
***
"... And I admit, I wasn't really paying attention to the gentleman, because, well, there were these young people and they were so loud, and their music on those pod-things they have these days! So I kept my eye on them, to make sure they didn't take anything, because who knows what they were doing in my wing of the Children's department. It wasn't until they'd paid for two outfits and I'd made sure their money wasn't fake, that I saw him walking away with a dress.
"So I called out, 'Sir!' I said, 'you can pay for that here, sir, and there's a special promotion on Misses' formalwear,' and that's as far as I got, because he jumped and patted his forehead, as if I'd startled him, and then he ran right into the beachwear display and, oh, God in Heaven, my heart leaped into my throat!
"He melted, into brown mud, his suit and his shoes and his everything! It flowed around all the beachwear and piled up on the other side, and it was like a man made of mud running off down towards Toys and Games, and I've lived in Gotham my whole life but I never saw one of those freaks until today. But he must have been one, wasn't he? No human can become mud like that!"
***
"... Most recently I was on the Clayface's corridor, yes. But I did not speak with the creature. They teach us, in our training, not to speak with the inmates, and so say all the senior guards as well. And why would I converse with the criminally insane? I have my work to do, and I do it, and that is enough. The Clayface would try to speak with me, though. Every day. It would appear as Doctor Arkham, as other guards, as other patients, as pretty women. As fantasies. As fictions. But I was never fooled. Then, two days ago at the 6-o-clock check, it did not speak or move, I saw nothing in its tank but a huddle beneath the blanket. That seemed... it did not seem right, and I reported it, and again at 4-o-clock. Yesterday, I was told the night guard had found the blanket heaped up over puffed up trash bags, and a gap cracked between the glass and the floor. You will ask him yourself, Officer?"
***
"...Why are you asking me all these questions? What does this have to do with getting my daughter home safe? I don't know these people, I've never heard of Karlo or Payne or Fuller. Where would I ever have met them? Aren't they criminals? I'm a chemist, I work for the government!"
"In fact," Renee said, bending her head as if glancing at the file, "you work in the Department of Extranormal Operations' Gotham office. What sort of chemistry you do for them, Dr. Johnson?"
"I can't talk about that. It's---"
"So classified you won't tell me, even if it helps us find your daughter alive and unharmed?" She looked up as she spoke, holding his gaze..
It was less than ten seconds before he dropped his head into his hands. "Okay. Okay. I've been working on the Clayface containment project for two years now; sixteen months ago, they brought us a child Clayface, he's still in custody... and his parents want him back. I don't know how they found me, but they emailed me ten days ago, then day before yesterday. My bosses said not to worry, the Clayfaces were in Arkham... and now this, now they've got my daughter. They've got my daughter."
"We'll need those emails, sir. Did they suggest a meeting place? An exchange?"
Head still in his hands, Dr. Johnson nodded. "Killinger's west entrance."
***
Renee found Cris leaning against 4B's window glass, a little smile creasing his cheek. "How is she?"
"Teesha's fine. Her dad, on the other hand, is still blubbering." Cris nodded to the scene inside the room, where Dr. Johnson was desperately hugging his daughter while the paramedic packing up her kit tried not to smile.
Renee was finding keeping a grin off her own face pretty difficult. "I can't believe you let him in already, after the way he held out on us."
"Hey, the man's kid was abducted. It seemed right to be merciful."
"Mercy? In Gotham?" Renee snorted. "Did you at least let him know he's staying the night?"
"I'll break his heart soon enough. The APB out?"
"Oh, yeah. 'Be on the alert for anyone, male female or other, no set race, build, or age, whose nervous tic is rubbing their forehead.' How do you catch a guy like that?" Cris shrugged again, rolling his eyes towards the roof, and Renee set her teeth. "Hell, no. No. Anyway, I need a change. I'm going home for an hour."
"Make it six," Cris suggested. Renee lost her fight against the smile.
***
"As usual," Daria said, running a hand through Renee's hair, "you win the Bad Day prize. Though I think an idiot busboy should earn me some points. I don't know why Benji hired him; no matter how pretty he is, we need him to do more than stand in the kitchen doorway rubbing his forehead and looking confused."
"What?" Renee sat up. "What'd you say, Dee?"
Daria gave Renee the 'you are insane and I love you' face. "That our new busboy isn't worth shit, all he does is stand around confused and---"
"---Rubbing his forehead." Renee stepped back into her pants, grabbing the phone as she stumbled towards the door, punching the speed dial as she shoved her feet into her shoes. "C'mon, Cris, pick up."
"Ren? Where are you going?" Renee turned, hand on the doorknob; Daria was getting up from the sofa. "Renee, talk to me---"
"The busboy, Benji has his address on file, right?"
"Yeah, but what---"
"Today's case. There could be a connection." Renee's phone lay still against her palm; Daria laid her hand on Renee's shoulder. "It's just a hunch..." Especially considering the millions of people in Gotham, or how many of them probably rubbed their foreheads.
But Daria nodded. "Oh. Oh, okay." She slipped her hand behind Renee's neck as she smiled. "Just be careful out there, all right?"
"Always." Renee leaned in for a kiss, and was thinking of another when her phone buzzed in her hand. So Daria let her go.
It was Cris. "Hey, partner." Renee locked the door behind her and jogged down the stairs. "It's a long shot, but we might have something."
no subject
no subject