Safe (BatBoys)

Partner

"Alright, you win. Anyways, we don't have any new cases yet, I was just processing some of the final paperwork." She explains as we walk back to my desk. I pull up a spare chair for myself.

"I can do that. You're welcome to take a break." I offer as I grab the small stack of paper. She places her hand on the stack before I can move it.

"I'm your partner, I handled the cases and I'm helping." She states. She's forceful for someone so tiny.

"Alright, but feel free to leave early today then." I concede. She smiles victoriously. I like her smile.

"I won't." She states as she grabs roughly half of the papers.

We work in comfortable silence for 2 hours before we get a call. I don't grab my coat but she does. It's spitting outside.

"Not a fan of the rain?" I ask as we get in a squad car. She frowns at her wet hair, it's not drenched but it's wet.

"No, I am not. It's always cold and humid and sticky." She says with crossed arms. I have to laugh at that, she looks like a kid pouting like that.

"I learned to love it. Kinda hard not to when you live in Gotham." I say casually. 

"You're from Gotham?" She questions.

"And proud of it. It's where I grew up." I say proudly. 

"I never would have guessed. That city looks like new york if it was in an apocalypse." She mutters.

"It has its days. Gotham even has a few resident heroes." I defend.

"Oh, you mean the bats? I think I had a celebrity crush on Robin when I was younger." She informs easily. My interest is piqued by this new information.

"Which one? There's been a few." I pry. She doesn't seem to mind.

"The first one I think. I saw him on TV once when I was like 13. I think that was the justice league thing." She explains thoughtfully. 

"Oh, I know that one." Yeah, because that's me. "How old are you now?" I ask, steering away from the conversation.

"I'm 27. You probably wouldn't have guessed that from looking at me." She says sheepishly.

"Well, you're older than me, so I definitely wouldn't have," I say with a chuckle.

"I'm not surprised. I mean, I still get carded when I buy wine." She says dismally.

"I can see that happening, but you made it through the academy so I'm sure you can prove yourself quickly. Not that you need to." I add. 

We roll up to the scene and I can already see the caution tape. Forensics is already here, the camera flashing brightly. We step out of the car and I pull out my notepad. Detective Bates is beside me with her own notepad in hand.

"What do we got?" We speak simultaneously. I smile at that. 

"21-year-old female, blunt force trauma to the head and contusions around the neck." A forensic scientist reports. I write that down quickly.

"Any witnesses?" Bates asks.

"A bartender saw the guy but couldn't catch him." An officer says, pointing behind him to a guy with a blanket over his shoulders. I turn to Bates.

"Can you question the witness while I look around?" I ask. It's odd to have a partner.

"Sure thing, I'll let you know what I find." She says and walks over to the guy. I can't hear the conversation but he seems to be cooperating. For now, I look around.

This is an alley beside a bar that advertises dancers. This woman is wearing a baggy sweater and leggings with pump heels. She was most likely a dancer trying to get home after her shift. I'm almost positive that she's wearing a costume top under that sweater.

I see a spot of blood on the wall above her body. That would be the blunt force trauma then. It doesn't seem like a pre-meditated thing. There's an open street with a clear view of the scene, not smart for murder. The body couldn't be fully hidden in any way. They didn't have a way to cover their tracks.

I look over the bruises on her neck. There's a mark that looks like a ring, it's thin and on the left hand ring-finger mark. Her killer is married. I hate when that happens, the spouses always say 'That isn't like them. They wouldn't do that.' and then start crying and there's no way we can say 'Hey, it's okay, you married a murderer, it happens.' I am so not whelmed.

"Okay, so our suspect is a large man, roughly 5'9, caucasian with brown hair. He was wearing jeans and a star wars t-shirt. He was a regular at the bar but never gave his name. He has a tattoo on his collarbone that says 'Jenna'. Find anything?" Bates says in a very rapid-fire way.

"Yeah, he's married and this probably wasn't planned. My guess is our victim worked the pole and someone wanted a private show. You don't wear those heels with a sweater for a night out.' I state, writing down as much information as I can.

"Good eye. Okay, so where do we start?" Bates asks.

"If he's a regular maybe someone knows his name. There would be security footage at the least, so we can run that through the system and find out who he is. We can ask the witness to identify him if we need to." I say. 

"Sounds good. Let's go."