Once Gotham's Finest

“Thank you so much for that.  I know it sounds insane having a butler but Alfred is the best.  I adore him and it’s why I’m here trying to help him out.” 

She shifted the few things in her arms to the left before holding out her right hand and smiling. “Kara— Kara Wayne.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, Connor.” She handed him the list and sighed, “I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time.  If it’s too much, I can go track down the creepy guy that was trying to help me earlier.”

“It’s not that insane. I mean, I never had a butler, but my parents did have a maid. It’s nice you’re helping him out.” He shook her hand, pausing as he fumbled the name around in his head. It was a few moments before it clicked and he nearly dropped his basket. One of the Waynes. THE Waynes. Not a regular Wayne like Connor himself. His face went through several different emotions and colors before he finally snapped back to reality, gripping the handles of his basket with both hands as he fought down that flutter of celebrity recognition.

She’d been standing in the aisle for almost 10 minutes trying to find the items she’d promised to bring back to Alfred but she couldn’t seem to find them.  Kara exhaled a deep breath and shifted to leave when she was confronted with sugar and a stranger.  He’d asked her a question but she wasn’t even sure what he meant by it and now she was more confused then before.

“You mean there are more then one type of sugar?  I’ve— I— I don’t really cook for myself. We have a butler but he needs these items and I don’t even know where to find them.”

“A butler, huh? Well if y’want, I could help? I mean, I don’t have a butler so I tend t’cook for myself soooo I’ve got a pretty good rein on where stuff is in a supermarket.” He smiled, all sunshine and social awkwardness packed onto a 6′3″ frame.

             “        missing persons is very easy in gotham, 93% of them get taken to a secondary location and are dead…. i’ve lived here long enough to know that. some of us are just luckier than others with the catch and release thing.      “       herself, she’s talking about herself.      “    i’m just messing with you, connor, you’re great at your job really.      ”

          “        bull what now ???        “     did she just hear that correctly ???       “      can you not say one whole swear ??? name the last crime you actually solved, go ahead, ill wait.         “

           “      man, i really wish i would have gotten his number…maybe then i could upgrade.     AND he was like a forensics agent not just a detective, really an all around upgrade    “

        “     huh, maybe you’re right. now that i think of it they were much more attractive than you. must have been my mistake.        “

         “      I literally watched you almost fall down a flight of subway steps two days ago. you slipped on a slick spot and almost busted your ass.      majestic is not the descriptor i’d use.            “

detectivewayne replied to your post: [*salsa dances through your inbox*]

My limbs are NOT wobbly!

                   Your limbs are super wobbly. you’re like a baby giraffe !!!

@detectivewayne replied to your post:

“Tiramisu and chocolate, agreed. Weird documentaries make me paranoid, and considering I’m from Gotham, that’s saying a lot.” He’s not touching the sex part. He’s already red faced as it is.

‘ well — what about cats. or, dogs. definitely worth living for, right? ‘ she grins, and decides not to comment. ‘ paranoid about weird documentaries while from gotham? that is saying a lot. ‘

“Dogs, of course!” He grinned, just thinking about his dear pug Rodney always brought a smile to his face. Sure, the pup was a little drooly and kinda smelly... but that’s what pugs are for--to be drooly and smelly little bastions of love and affection. Who snore.

@detectivewayne

Shushing protests, the little redhead swatted at Connor’s fingers and leveled a gloved finger at his nose. “Stop.” Barely a whisper, full of underlying threats of bodily harm that they weren’t at all likely to carry out– The man was obviously concussed, after all. And bleeding.

He couldn’t be expected to be fully lucid. But Bree needed to be able to work, needed him to sit still. And maybe stop hyperventilating.

Connor rubbed at his forehead, still dazed from bloodloss and the new bruise he was sporting thanks to his sudden jolt upward at the reveal of his savior’s name. “I-I’m sorry, I just, y’know, you’re a l-local celebrity and, uh, I’m just, uh...” He shrugged helplessly, though it caused the gash on his side to pull, making the detective wince and lay back again. He didn’t quite remember how he even got here--was this a fancy dining table?--much less how he came to be injured. There was the distant memory of gunshots and quips that made him want to yank his own hair out, and a flash of red... but not much else.

oh man the feels just hit

@detectivewayne liked for a starter! 

Okay, so… he kind of threw one of these drug dealers through the wall of the abandoned warehouse Rich had tracked him to. Did he care? Kind of. Mostly cause he’d gotten too pissed off and hadn’t kept himself reined in, not to mention that he’d caused a good bit of damage in creating the hole in the wall. But hey, at least the rest of those lowlifes had surrendered pretty quickly after seeing that.

The Nova Prime was busy setting the drug dealers against the outer wall of the warehouse and binding their hands with glowing bands of Nova Force when he heard the police car roll up, making him turn his head. Right on time too. Wow, the cops were better here in Gotham than they ever were back in NYC. But there was a lot more crime here too, oddly.

“I’ll remove the bonds when you handcuff them, guys. The scene is relatively untouched as well, so that’s good to go too.”

The call had come in when Connor was just coming back from his break, still wiping the ketchup from his burger off his mouth with a paper napkin. He couldn’t help the groan--altercation in process, likely involving a cape--flipping on the siren as he made his way. He cursed the fact that he had to choose the diner closest to this particular incident, as he would be the quickest to respond. Still, Connor wasn’t about to slack off, it simply wasn’t in his blood.

Pulling up, the officer made his way toward the warehouse, pistol drawn, watching for movement. This area was well known for drug dealing and violence, the last thing he wanted was someone to catch him unaware.

However, the last thing he expected was a man in a bright metallic helmet rounding up a large bunch of known dealers, all casual like this was a typical Tuesday night.

Groaning, Connor lowered his weapon and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other holstering his service pistol. This was going to be so much paperwork.

RETURNS ON YOUR BDAY I SEE HOW IT IS