"Harvey Bullock! Where the hell are you?!" (Y/n) called out, as she stormed her way through the precinct. Any cop that knew anything, averting their gaze as to not catch the eye of the angry detective.
"HARVEY BULLOCK! COME OUT NOW, AND I PROMISE NOT TO SEPARATE YOU FROM PARTS OF YOUR ANATOMY!" (Y/n) almost roared, as doors to rooms flew open. Even Captain Essen shutting her blinds in hopes that she wouldn't get dragged into (Y/n) and Bullocks latest........well, this latest whatever truly went on between the beautiful detective and the jaded, world weary Harvey.
In truth, it was hard for anyone to tell whether (Y/n) and Harvey liked one another or hated one another. The two certainly worked well together when Jim wasn't there for one reason or another. (Y/n) was the only one that Harvey would bring coffee for. And some of the others had even noticed how the older man could be quite protective at times if anything was ever said about (Y/n). But then, at the next moment, Jim and half of the precinct were doing their best to stop the two from coming to blows. (Y/n) screaming that she was going to shoot him right between the eyes, and Harvey retorting with things like "I would love to see you try, sweetheart" and "You couldn't hit the side of a barn". Neither comment making the situation any better.
"James Worthington Gordon!" (Y/n)'s voice came. Jim shuddering at the sound of his full name being called out. The detective dropping from his seat and quickly hiding under his desk, as the door to his and Harvey's office was thrown open.
"James. I know you're there." (Y/n)'s voice came again. Her tone now calmer, but no less irritated. Jim taking a deep breath, before slowly appearing from under the table. (Y/n) trying her best not to laugh as the top of his head and eyes cautiously appeared.
"Oh, er.......hi (Y/n). Didn't hear you come in. I was just...........er........my pen fell on the........." Jim tried to explain. Producing a pen, before taking a seat back on his chair.
"Yeah, of course it did. Now where is he?" (Y/n) replied, her arms firmly crossed over her chest as she waited for a suitable response from the nervous looking detective.
"Where's who, (Y/n)?" Jim retorted, trying to pretend that he had no idea what (Y/n) could be talking about. Trying his hardest not to roll his eyes at his own feeble and idiotic response.
"You know exactly who, Jim Gordon. I want to know where that coffee swilling, Danish scoffing, huge pain in the ass is. And it would be best that you tell me, so that I don't redirect my ire at you. Because I am well aware that you could have been in on this too. Now where is Bullock!" (Y/n) growled. As she produced a rather thick file and shook it in Jim's direction. Jim more than aware of what he was looking at.
In truth, he had told Harvey not to do it. He had said that (Y/n) was already up to her eyeballs in cases as it was. That the captain already had her working on some high profile case, and that she had been spending far more time with Ed in the morgue than was probably advisable. But Harvey wouldn't listen, the Irishman retorting with "Well we are up to our eyeballs in cases too" and "(Y/n)'s a clever college educated girl. This should be right up her street". Jim just shaking his head, as Harvey had slipped the file into the middle of the large pile of identical files that already sat on (Y/n)'s desk.
Jim knew that (Y/n) would notice straight away. She had always had an eye for fine details. Always seemed to be able to detect the little things that the rest of them couldn't. And he was also aware that (Y/n) knew each and every file that was on her desk. So, it was only a matter of time before she realised. And that she wouldn't have to be psychic to know where the new file had come from. Especially as she seemed to know all about the cases that he and Harvey were working on too.
But Jim also had to admit that Harvey had been right when he said that the case would be right up (Y/n)'s street. A series of murders that all had the same bizarre twist. A killer that seemed to leave no clue. Made no slip ups. Left no evidence. And given (Y/n)'s talent to be able to find the slightest clue, where there seemed to be none, Jim had always thought that (Y/n) would be better suited to the job than either he or Harvey. But Essen had said that (Y/n) already had enough on her plate. And that the pair of them were more than capable of dealing with a serial killer, as well as all the other murders and crimes that they had to deal with.
"Oh, er........yeah, that. I tried to tell him that he shouldn't, (Y/n)..........but you know Harv............."
"Yeah, that's the problem, Jim. I do know Harv. Now, you can take this file, and tell Harvey Bullock to solve his own damn cases. And if you two are incapable of doing so, then I believe that traffic is in desperate need of help. You two would look lovely back in uniform." (Y/n) countered. Walking over and placing the file in front of Jim, before turning and making her way back out of the office.
"Oh, and Jim. Tell Harvey when he manages to drag his weather beaten old carcass back from whatever donut shop, or dive bar that he is currently in. He needn't think that he can sweet talk his way out of this one. I am not going to accept his usual form of apology." (Y/n) said, as she left the room. Leaving Jim in a state of confusion. The detective unaware of what Harvey's usual form of apology could possibly be. That, and he didn't know that Harvey could sweet talk his way out of anything. Never mind sweet talking an angry (Y/n).
>>--------------------------------<<
Harvey finally made his way back into the precinct. His brows furrowing as the other officers gave him strange looks. The detective sensing that he must be in trouble for something, but with who and for what, he wasn't sure.
"Afternoon, Jimbo." Harvey greeted. Shoving what was left of his Danish in his mouth, so that he could take off his jacket and hat.
"Afternoon? Its evening. Where the hell have you been Harv?" Jim, retorted. As he looked at his watch.
"Where do you think I've been? I've been down at the docks to deal with that body that they pulled out of the drink, cos you had to finish that paperwork. And then had to go and speak to a few people. Crazy people don't just lock themselves up, Jim. And talking about crazy people, why are all the guys giving that strange look? You know the one. The one that says, you are just about to get your ass handed to you." Harvey explained, as he took a seat, and placed his feet up in the desk.
"(Y/n)." Jim simply replied. Harvey nearly spitting his coffee out all over the place, as a file flew across the room at him.
"Ah. She found it then.............?"
"Oh, yeah, she found it. And you were just lucky you weren't here, because she was on the war path. She was threatening to pull certain parts of your anatomy off." Jim told him. Harvey grabbing any old piece of paper he could find, and wiping the coffee from his chin and shirt.
"Don't worry about it. I know what to do. I'll just.........."
"And she also said that you needn't think that you can sweet talk his way out of this one. That, and she's not going to accept your usual form of apology. Jim continued. Crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair.
"Ah. This might not be as easy as I thought, then." Harvey replied, as he got to his feet, pulling back on his jacket and grabbing his hat.
"Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on between you two?" Jim enquired, as he watched Harvey make his way through the door.
"Maybe later, Jim. Now I have to fix this. Otherwise, I'll never hear the last of it. And I'll never get another chance to use the parts of my anatomy that she is threatening to pull off." Harvey sort of explained as he closed the door behind him. Jim's eyes growing wide as he realised what Harvey was suggesting.