TWIN PEAKS | 1.06 â âCooperâs Dreamsâ (1990)
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@commissionerjg
TWIN PEAKS | 1.06 â âCooperâs Dreamsâ (1990)

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herculesheraclesherculesâ:
The man paused in his step suddenly when he realized someone had addressed him. The movement was deliberateâ the sound had not startled him, as if he had known he was being followed the entire time. There was an odd grace to his step and how he held himself that didnât seem to make sense considering his size. He stood silently for a long moment before turning his head just enough to make out the man in his peripheral, eyes narrowed.Â
He wasnât a distrustful person, but he had seen both sides of humanity for the past year as he wandered around. People had been very good to himâ offering him food, helping him to get a job. But he had also been treated with contempt by those who saw him as homeless, and several attempts had been made to rob or harm him by those who were in the same situation as he.Â
âI⌠do not have a destination.â So technically he wasnât lost. His voice was low and rumbling, his tone neutral, with an odd accent that modern men would not recognize. Although his clothes were dirty his face and hands were clean of grime as if he had bathed recently. âYou are?â
Jim had grown up in Chicago, joined the military, then spent more than half his life in Gotham before moving to Star City. Heâd seen some of the strangest things and people the world could offer up, so there wasnât much of anything or anyone that caught him fully by surprise anymore. A big man in dirty clothes certainly wasnât going to do it. Still, just because he wasnât affected didnât mean that somebody else wouldnât be, and that was all the more reason to see if he needed to step in preemptively.Â
âJim Gordon,â he answered. âIâm the Police Commissioner.â He didnât expect his name alone to be familiar to everybody. He wasnât on the damn news practically every night like he had been back in Gotham, though he wasnât a stranger to it, either. Theyâd had some bizarre cases, and some bad days. Heâd had to speak. Still, he didnât make a regular sight of himself. âThought Iâd see if you need any assistance. Folks get nervous. You probably understand.âÂ
@justicealwaysprevails
onehellofalawyerâ:
-
He lifted the corner of Jimâs file slightly, enough to get the gist of the paperwork underneath before looking back at the older man. âDoes it make me a bad DA that Iâm really happy about a lot of that?â he asked. When it had first been introduced heâd been in favour of The Hero Ban; heâd hoped it would keep people like Matt safe and lessen the collateral damage battles between heroes and villains seemed to whip up. As it stood, crime had gone up and NOVA came along to capitalise on that fear and make just being different a crime in itself.
âHuh.â he opened the file again, âHell, Iâd been in law school back then. I remembered using this kinda stuff as a case study for essays.â Before going to parties with Matt. âWell, maybe if we pull the most successful parts of each we can patchwork something workable that can evolve over time? If we set something rigid thereâll be holes in it within two months. I reckon weâre gonna have to play some parts by ear.â A novel concept but he wanted the law to do what it was supposed to: protect people.
âThereâs worse things in the world than being a bad lawyer.â It wasnât as if Jim enjoyed putting away people for things that shouldnât have been criminal offenses in the first place, but it had never been his position to decide what the law was. He could try to bend the right ears and get people to listen, but his job was focusing on how to handle things on the ground, which meant he was right in the middle of the mess caused by the people in charge of making those laws pulling the rug out from under them, even though it had been a horrible rug to begin with.Â
âHarvey isnât going to be on board with a free for all. Heâs still got a city to run.â And Jim wasnât particularly the type to play a lot by ear either. âItâs the law, Nelson. The system has to have hard guidelines. Itâs already riddled with people like you trying to poke holes in it. Iâm not going to make it easier, whatever we come up with.â And whatever Harvey decided to follow.Â
commissionerjgâ:
@oraclestandingby
Thirty something years as a cop and a handful more in the service had left Jim well acquainted with the idea that life, especially his own, was not guaranteed every day. Over and over, he made the choice to go out every night anyway. Someone had to do it, someone had to make the sacrifice and see the terrible things, so that at least there was a chance of it being dealt with and fixed. Heâd always been able to handle it, or get as close to handling it as any person could, so heâd done it. Again and again.Â
It had meant a lot of moments where he wasnât sure heâd see his daughter again. There were a lot of reasons that Bruce Wayneâs death hit home, but that was one of them. The universe just didnât make any damn sense, sometimes, and he couldnât stand it. There was no reason a man like that was dead and Jim was still alive. There was no sensible path that led to Batman being gone, his kids being without their dad, and Jim Gordon still being there. He was, though. He still was. Barbara had her dad, he still had his not-so-little girl, and heâd taken a damn day off work for once.Â
Maybe he was being an old sentimental fool that day. Given how rare an occasion that was, he thought she might forgive him for it just the once. He called first, though he was already parked in front of her building.
[Calling - Barb]: âItâs Dad. Do you have an hour or two to spare?âÂ
Although Bruceâs death left a ripple across the entire country, from Gotham to Star City, Babs was determined not to let herself stop working. Oracle had a lot to do. With NOVA out of the city and the streets more peaceful than theyâd been in years, she had the ability to focus on what came next. Her position with the SCPD was technically freelance work, but she set aside enough time to help her dad and the rest of the department with the tech and databases that were now at their disposal.
The majority of her attention had been on Bruceâs family. They were their family too, even if it wasnât by blood, and she was doing her best to exercise patience. But if Jason muted her one more time, she was going to glue the comm in his ear and disable the button. Babs could be strict and short with the people she cared about, for her it was also a matter of practicality, but she knew they were going through a difficult time. She was trying to be understanding.Â
It wasnât easy.
When she heard her phone go off, she didnât even have to look at the screen to know who it was.
âOf course. Iâll be down in a minute.â There was no sense in asking. She already knew he was there. Her apartment complex had plenty of cameras, and a micromovement of her pinky had given her access to the street view.Â
After hanging up (and true to her word), she was at the sidewalk in a little under 60 seconds. âHi, dad,â she said with a tired smile. âI figured we could walk down to the deli. Or, well.â She gestured to her wheelchair. âYouâd be doing the walking.â It was a nice night and her apartment felt too stifling.
Barbara was always on top of things. Heâd have liked to take some of the credit for her being as intelligent and quick as she was, but that was all her. Jim had done his best to be there, to be a dad alongside being a cop who spent most of his time at work, but once in awhile he regretted the things that heâd missed. He had tried to keep that to a minimum when she was young, but thereâd been no way to get to every parent-teacher night or see her handed every single award. He knew that she understood, maybe it never even crossed her mind, but on days like that one it weighed on his.
As he saw her come out, Jim stepped out of his car and locked it behind him. Heâd had to buy a new one in Star City for the first time in years and still wasnât used to it. It wasnât the kind of city where you could walk everywhere, and he didnât want to take a squad car on personal business. Still, new models had bells and whistles he didnât know what in the hell to do with. The seats warmed themselves. It was excessive.Â
âHey, Pumpkin. You want a hand?â He walked toward her to take the handles of her chair, unless she warned him off. It depended on the day, usually. âI have the whole day.âÂ

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herculesheraclesherculesâ:
Hercules Unbound...and In Star City (open starter).
The man was very, very tall, and very large with dark hair and eyes. People turned to glance at him as he slowly walked down the sidewalk. It was getting to be evening and he didnât have a place to sleep yet. He carried on his shoulder a worn backpack that matched his dusty jeans and dirty work boots. His flannel shirt seemed clean enough, though, his hair and beard neat and not so ragged that he seemed completely homeless or destitute.Â
It had been almost an entire year since he âwoke upâ, found naked on the side of the road in a small town in Oregon. He had been without clothes, identification..and oddly enough also without an inch of hair on his bodyânot even eyelashes. He could barely speak or walk, and was found by a couple of hunters driving early one morning. After spending several weeks in the local hospital he still had no idea who he was, though despite his memory loss and lack of hair he was in perfect health. He barely even needed to eat or sleep.Â
Since then his hair had grown in normally and he fit in with other people just fine. Except for his memories. Those still had not returned. He could speak all right, and read and write at this point. But it had come to him slowly, like water dripping from a leaky faucetâ a drop here, a drop there. Nothing substantial, but enough to get him by. Because he did not know his own name, he had picked one at random. William Smith. He had seen the name Smith often on billboards and in the papersâ it seemed to be a common name, and William as well. He was not a creative man, and simplicity was what he desired in most things, including his name.Â
He had come to Star City for a reason. But now that he had arrived, he did not know where to go. So he walked. The streets were loud with cars and buses, and he walked by many people as he made his way down the sidewalks. There were some money in his backpack, but not much, most he had made doing odd jobs in the towns to the south of Star City. He couldnât use a computer and did not have any ID, but he could do any manual labor asked of him, and had done so for many months. Lawn work, laying bricks, unloading boxes at warehousesâ he did it all without complaint and without seeming to tire. It was only a few months after he had woken up that he realized he was not the same as other people. He was much stronger and faster, his endurance unsurpassed. He quickly learned to hide this as well. The looks and whispers he got did not go unnoticed.Â
Strange sights werenât new in Jim Gordonâs life, and a massive man walking down the street barely even qualified. Still, anything that got attention was something that might deserve his. In the wake of the ban being lifted and NOVA leaving, a vacuum had been created that left him and the SCPD with plenty to deal with. If he could head something off before it became a problem, heâd rather do that. Or maybe itâd be as simple as giving some damn directions. He could to that, too. In his particular career, sometimes it was easy to lose sight of the fact that sometimes the solutions werenât complicated at all.Â
There was no need for the badge. All heâd been doing was walking back to the station from the diner where he still had lunch practically every day. Jim quickened his pace and soon found himself falling into step with the mystery man.
âYouâre looking a little lost. New to the city?â Without NOVAâs checkpoints in place any longer, more people were free to move in and out. He expected a flow of traffic that they hadnât really seen the last couple of years.Â
giggles-and-glocksâ:
My Lifeâs a Fucking Comedy || Joker and Jim
The railing system must be fucking ancient if it was this easy to stop the electricity flow to the subway cars on the A line. Joker grinned as he stared at the sparking box he had just fired three shot gun shells into just as the 7:00 train came screaming by. He was going to have a little fun. Or try to. It all made no difference anymore anyway. He laughed, even if he felt like crying, as the lights flickered and the train came to a complete stop. The sickly light of the emergency illumination made an already pale Joker almost green, a welcome contrast to the monochrome of everything on him.
Heâd given himself a makeover. Out of respect. Or perhaps it was madness. Or perhaps he had just needed a change. Ha. Ha. Ha. No purple, no green. Why bother? What about seeing the world from the Batâs perspective. Gray and Black and white. Good or evil. Sane or insane. Perhaps it was an homage. He didnât care all that much.Â
Glass shattered as he put his fist through it to close his fingers around the axe designed for âin case of fireâ. What about âin case of existential comedyâ?Â
Whistling that same Irving Berlin song that had been stuck in his head for a long whileâsince the newsâthe newly black and white clown made his way to the very first window where the driver was on the radio. âHeeeereâs Joker!â he shouted as he swung the axe into the window before pulling a pistol. The brains spattered in a pretty Rorschach test over the window as he took to whistling again. âHello, ladies and gentlemen,â he said as he stepped into the main car. âHow would you all like to hear a story? A tragedy of comedies. Or a comedy of tragedies. Or maybe itâs both.â
The screaming began and the Joker rolled his eye before the shotgun swung around from his and a man who had gotten up to try to pry the door open slumped to the floor.  âHave I got your attention now?â He asked.
There were phones out. Joker didnât mind so much as he caught sight of a crying little boy holding onto his motherâs hand. âDear God, kid. With a mug like that, youâre lucky she loves you. Whatâs the saying? Face only a mother could love?â As the bottom of his barrel tipped the kidâs chin up, he considered. âMaybe I could just do ya now so that mom doesnât have to cry over you later. Would that be mercy or messy?
The boyâs mother swallowed hard. âP-please. Heâs only⌠s-seven.âÂ
âSeven? Practically a grown up, kiddo.â Without warning, he reached into his pocket before producing⌠a lollipop.
âWhere was I?â He asked to his now rapt audience. âAh yes. Tragedy and comedy.â
@commissionerjg
Within a minute of the train being stopped, a call came through to the SCPD. Jim didnât always take them personally. He was the police commissioner, after all, and not just another pair of boots on the ground. Still, he couldnât sit behind a desk and anytime something major happened or they were a little short handed, he was in the field without fail. The fact that it was Joker involved would have got him there even if neither of the other things were true. A lot of Gothamâs darkness had ended up in Star City. It had followed Batman, or it had followed him, or both, but Bruce was gone. He wouldnât be answering this particular call. It felt like Jimâs responsibility even more than usual.
There was no way to get right to the scene. They couldnât drive squad cars down the tunnel, and it took them more time than he wanted to reach the train. Jim knew from countless experiences with the clown that he couldnât go in light, and he had a dozen officers with him as backup. Still, he led it. He had to. Crouched too low to be seen from the windows, they surrounded the stopped train and Jim pried open the doors two cars down from where Joker had placed himself.Â
He held his hand up to silence the passengers, and left the doors open for some of his crew to begin evacuating them quickly and quietly. Jim remained in pursuit. His weapon was drawn as he moved into the next car and he finally saw his target. Joker looked...not himself. He didnât have the time to wonder why, and frankly he didnât give a damn, but he was close enough by then to hear him talking. Stopping right by the door that would lead him into that car, he waiting for the right opportunity. Joker was armed, and Jim didnât feel much like being shot again. It was barely a year since the last time it had happened, and he didnât relish reliving it yet.Â
onehellofalawyerâ:
-
While Foggy was actually pretty thrilled the government had repealed The Hero Ban and NOVA were no longer around (course he wasnât thrilled about the deathâŚ) it had of course some with a mountain of paperwork and legislative change. He knew Mayor Dent would have the final say on how the city should proceed but as DA it definitely fell to him to try and put forward some changes while also deciding which legal proceedings to halt until they had a clearer picture of what was and was not still considered a crime. Needless to say, heâd started early and hadnât stopped.
He was elbow deep in paperwork and legal volumes when his door opened and he looked up to see the Commissioner in his office. He offered the man a slight smile, âGreat minds.â he said in lieu of a greeting. âTake a seat Commissioner I reckon weâll have something workable for the mayor by next week if we go without sleep.â he reached for his intercom and buzzed through to his secretary, âElizabeth, could you run and grab us a couple of coffees? Get one for yourself as well. Thanks!â Â Â
âThese,â he pushed over a large stack of files, âAre ongoing cases Iâve frozen proceedings on till we can be sure theyâre actually prosecutable offences. Â
Jim tossed down the file heâd come in with in favor of picking up one of Foggyâs. âCanât touch these for awhile,â he said after just a glance over the first couple of pages. Unlawful Use of Superhuman or Genetic Abilities. He sighed and laid it back down again before taking a seat on the other side of the desk. It wouldâve been a damn fine thing if they could just feel the relief he imagined a whole lot of others in the city were getting, but there was no time at all for that. âMost of them are going to get thrown out anyway. Probably for the best.â
He watched as Foggyâs assistant left for the coffee and drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair heâd picked. âThatâs all I could dig up about the provisions in place before the SRP ever existed,â he gestured toward what heâd laid down in front of Foggy. âItâs not like it was perfect even then. Not here, not in Gotham, not damn anywhere, but itâs better than starting completely from scratch.âÂ
@oraclestandingby
Thirty something years as a cop and a handful more in the service had left Jim well acquainted with the idea that life, especially his own, was not guaranteed every day. Over and over, he made the choice to go out every night anyway. Someone had to do it, someone had to make the sacrifice and see the terrible things, so that at least there was a chance of it being dealt with and fixed. Heâd always been able to handle it, or get as close to handling it as any person could, so heâd done it. Again and again.Â
It had meant a lot of moments where he wasnât sure heâd see his daughter again. There were a lot of reasons that Bruce Wayneâs death hit home, but that was one of them. The universe just didnât make any damn sense, sometimes, and he couldnât stand it. There was no reason a man like that was dead and Jim was still alive. There was no sensible path that led to Batman being gone, his kids being without their dad, and Jim Gordon still being there. He was, though. He still was. Barbara had her dad, he still had his not-so-little girl, and heâd taken a damn day off work for once.Â
Maybe he was being an old sentimental fool that day. Given how rare an occasion that was, he thought she might forgive him for it just the once. He called first, though he was already parked in front of her building.
[Calling - Barb]: âItâs Dad. Do you have an hour or two to spare?âÂ
primenovaâ:
Richard will always try to place his best foot forward and do his job well. He might be a goofball sometimes but often when it comes down to doing this line of work ⌠it was taken seriously. He doesnât allow himself to get distracted from the goal in mind either, seeing how quickly any situation can escalate in an instant. He has seen planets die and entire civilizations get wiped out in the war. Every moment is precious so Rich puts all his effort into solving a case since for most of his life there was nobody else to lean on. He had to be the best because there was only him but itâs different being part of SCPD. Richard isnât alone anymore but still upholds the effort put into his work.
âI hope that Iâll be able to prove to you how dedicated I am to the department. I want to be known for doing what I do well.â He nods and maybe for once Rich is nervous despite his confident attitude. In the meantime, his fingers flip through some more of the pages in the file thatâs given to him but closes it and keeps it in his lap. âInteresting that there isnât any witnesses âŚâ
âThatâs part of why Iâm putting you on this,â Jim told him after Richâs observation. âWith the area that happened, thereâs no way nobody saw a thing, but nobodyâs talking. Got any guesses about why that might be?â He looked at him over the top rim of his glasses with one brow just slightly arched. âSomebody gave them a reason not to. So why donât you start there...â he leaned back in his chair, âand keep me up to date about what you turn up. Take Quill with you. He needs to pull his weight.â
Jim nodded his head toward the door. âSo far so good, Rider. You havenât given me a reason to doubt you yet, so donât start with this case. Iâd like some assurance that I donât need to keep my hand in every pot in this place.âÂ

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amazingflyingdickâ:
When Dick heard that Jim Gordon was waiting in the parlor, he hadnât been fully prepared for the emotions that flooded him. Jim and Alfred had a unique relationship with Bruce, one he would never understand, because they knew him when he was young. They both had insight on his life that Dick would never share. What they lost was entirely different from the tragedy he was experiencing. Whatâs more, Jim was a father-figure all of his own that heâd always looked up to. He was one of those steadfast figures that people took for granted. When Dick had worked for the SCPD, heâd done all he could to live up to Jimâs expectations. Sometimes he still felt guilt for eventually turning in his resignation, but it had been the right decision. There were too many factors involved and he was too compromised.
Every now and then he ran into him on patrol. Heâd shared information with him as Nightwing, even though his identity was public and there was no reason for Gordon to even pretend like he didnât know who he was.
But he never imagined seeing him in this capacity. In mourning. It was something he had to prepare himself for.
When he finally appeared in the doorway, he seemed calm and stoic. His clothes were clean. Other than the dark circles under his eyes, he seemed entirely normal. The previous night had been spent exploring the database Tim had given him access to, reviewing files, and he was relieved not to come across any surprises. That didnât mean he wouldnât, but he was prepared for the possibility. The only files he hadnât perused were the people he was closest to. It felt wrong to scan through Clarkâs file, or Donnaâs file, and the thought left a bad taste in his mouth.
Maybe that was even more reason why the cowl shouldnât be his responsibility alone. They each had their biases, but Batman was supposed to have none.
âGood morning, sir,â he greeted, offering his hand out of habit.
It had been a shame to lose Dick Grayson as a detective and an officer. Heâd been good at his job, before all of the external conflicts made it impossible to continue. Dick had done them the favor of resigning before Jim had to ask him to. Still, heâd often thought about how he wished it had turned out differently. It was difficult to find people to trust even to do the basics of their jobs, let alone in any higher capacity. Jim had high expectations of people, but he was always willing to work with them to get there. There was no undoing what had been done, though, not when it came to any of the circumstances that had led them to that moment.
Jim shook his hand. Along with Batmanâs identity had come all the other ones, too. Dick Grayson as Nightwing, Jason Todd as the damned Red Hood, Tim Drake as Red Robin, so on and so on. He still ignored much of that and compartmentalized. He wasnât there for Detective Grayson or Nightwing. Jim was there for the young man whoâd just lost his father. It didnât matter that heâd been adopted. It mattered that heâd lost two sets of parents, now, at an age before anyone ought to lose even one.
âHow are you holding up, son?âÂ
@onehellofalawyer
The repeal of the SRP and NOVA being abolished were both things that should be celebrated. Theoretically, anyway. On the ground, it left a vacuum. Theyâd been given little immediate guidance from any level of government. Overnight, an enormous list of things that had been illegal were suddenly no longer offenses. All of that in the wake of death and destruction, including someone who was personally incredibly important to Jim, had him grasping. He would pull it together and keep order in the city, but it was more difficult than he wanted it to be.
Until higher guidelines were issued, their only path forward was to look to local government - Mayor Dent, specifically - to help keep order in the city. Jim figured the best way to do that was to put something together. Recommendations. Anything at all. He showed up at the District Attorneyâs office without an appointment. Nobody had time to deal with secretaries and schedules just then. The longer they waited, the more likely it was that things would get out control right beneath their noses.Â
âNelson,â he said as he stepped into the office, armed with a folder of city and state laws that existed prior to the SRP. âWe have work to do.âÂ
@amazingflyingdick
There had been times back in Gotham that theyâd been without Batman. Jim didnât always know what the story was or what had happened. What he did know was that every night Bruce Wayne put on that mask and cape, he was on borrowed time in the same way that Jim was when he stepped out wearing the badge. It was a calculated risk that they both took time and time again, often in such close proximity to each other. He knew that. Knowing it, and having known it for the decades theyâd worked together, did not lessen the impact of hearing that heâd had been killed in that explosion.Â
It wasnât only Batman whoâd died. It wasnât just the vigilante that Jim had relied on so many times (and often in secret) to help him keep Gotham as safe as Gotham could ever be. It wasnât just the confounded man who got some twisted pleasure out of scaring the hell out of him by showing up in silent, dark corners when he could have just walked in front of him like a normal person. No, it was Martha and Thomasâs boy who died, too. Jim had known for a long while, even if heâd simply chosen not to acknowledge that he knew, that Bruce Wayne and Batman were one in the same. Once heâd had to face it, it got a little harder not to see the boy whose parents had just been killed in front of him. Heâd died in that explosion, too, far younger than he should have. Jim shouldnât have outlived him. That wasnât how it was meant to be.
The world had lost a hero and good man. Jim had lost a friend and a partner. Bruceâs children had lost their father. Jim had asked him, as he lay recovering from a gunshot wound, to look after his own daughter if anything were to happen to him. It would have been wrong of him, selfish of him, to make that request and be unwilling to do the same in kind. It didnât matter if the Wayne kids didnât need him or want him to do it. He was doing it anyway.Â
Maybe he should have called before going to the manor, but he hadnât. Once heâd been let inside and offered his condolences to Alfred, he waited in the parlor for Dick after asking for him by name.Â
Jim Gordon Starter Call
Like/Comment for a starter from Jim. Please specify character if you have multiples :)Â
primenovaâ:
When Richard was growing up ⌠ becoming a cop never seemed to be what he envisioned for himself. He didnât know what to do with his life but the universe made a decision for him. Which is how his life got thrown together with becoming essentially a SPACE COP and becoming engrossed into politics of the universe. Which included his own planet. He knows that everything works differently here on Earth and itâs nice not having control while working his job as an officer HERE. Itâs crazy to think of how long his life has been surrounded by this life but being hired by the SCPD was the best fit for him. Heâs good at this job and just wants to show Jim that he made a good decision on bringing him in.
Rich steps into the office, wondering why Gordon wanted to see him but held onto hope that it wasnât anything negative. âYou wanted to see me, sir?â He nodded at the response telling him to have a seat. He quietly sat down in the chair positioned in front of the desk. Thereâs some silence before a file is placed down before him. His hand reaching out to hold it â opening it and reading over the information on the first page. âI wonât let you down.â He really means it, always pouring a hundred percent into any case given to him. He turns over the page, looking at the contents on the next one.
âPeople not catching my attention around here is a good thing. So far, I havenât had any reason to look twice at you, which either means youâre doing your job well or youâre not doing it badly enough for me to have to look into it.â But Jim didnât need people who were there just to coast and get a paycheck, if that was what was going on. Heâd rebuilt the department from the ground up, fired nearly everyone whoâd been with the SCPD when he transferred to Star City, and he wanted to keep things in the hands of people he could trust to uphold the structure heâd managed to get in place. âHereâs your shot to show me which one is right.âÂ
He was at retirement age, but the idea of actually doing that was almost laughable. What would he do with himself if he retired? But life had a way of forcing things, once in awhile. If he took another bullet like he had the year before, which had taken him months and months to come back from, it might not be up to him. If that was the case, he needed to know he had put some capable hands in place. Maybe Rich was one set of them. Heâd wait and see.

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@commissionerjgâ
justicealwaysprevailsâ:
[Jim:] What do we need to discuss?Â
[Bruce:] That Nabel woman has been pulling SCPD files. I think I know why, and itâs something youâre already working on.Â
[Bruce:] Iâm not keen on saying more here. Never liked this texting business.Â