elisabeth_icon.gif jay_icon.gif nash_icon.gif

Scene Title Cited
Synopsis Luck or no luck, Jake doesn't get out of this ticket.
Date October 21, 2009


Paperwork is all done. He's been all briefed up and Detective Christopher Nash is finally out on his first ride with Detective Harrison. It's not technically his first, as she was kind enough to drive him around to get a feel for the city and explain a few things to him. Show him some sights, so to speak. However, today it's all business as Liz drives while Nash seems to be keeping an eye on where they are going.

Well, at least when his gaze is not drifting towards other types of eye candy that may be walking by on the sidewalk.

"So, you've been in this city long?" Like most cities, there are different components that make up the city at large. Little subdivisions of smaller communities all bundled up tight. "I have a feeling I'm going to like it here."

"Born and bred," Elisabeth replies to the query, her eyes on the road as she drives. In just the time Nash has been in the car, he should already have gotten the sense that she drives like a New York cop — or cabbie — or maybe a combat driver… absolutely farking insane, cutting in and out of traffic expertly. "It's a good city," she tells him easily. "Even with all its problems. And the crater in the middle." She grins very faintly.

Damn loony cops. You know the worst of it? They arrest other New Yorkers for driving the same way! Appalling abuse of power, really. At the moment Jake's in a lot of several dozen people poised at the streetcorner waiting to cross. His head's down, there are iPod earbuds blasting Rob Zombie in his ears, and his hoodie dangles open to reveal a black shirt lettered "I MEET OR EXCEED EXPECTATIONS." He left all the saucy slogans at home, see - he's really, honestly trying to lay low.

Of course, laying low is damn tricky when you don't think to look before you cross. He's so damn used to not having to, his natural luck carried with him so that with a thought he doesn't do something stupid, that it really doesn't occur to him. Hell, he only recently learned - as late as yesterday - to just relax and let it flow, no wishing required. No wanting. …That took a lot of weed.

In any case, out he steps, plain 'n simple, utterly oblivious to the oncoming police car. Oops.

If Nash is all that concerned with Harrison's driving ability, he's doing pretty well in masking those feelings. As a cop from Chicago, offensive driving is in the training protocol. Or, perhaps not. Of course, he's taking in the scene around him, so when he looks forward and sees the dipshit kid stepping out in front of the car, Nash feels the need to comment. "Might.. want to stop?" Surely, same as Chicago, NYPD frowns on getting blood in the front grill.

The blonde's reflexes are fast — it's not like dipshit pedestrians are exactly unusual in the streets of any city, but especially in this one. The car comes to an abrupt, screeching halt, causing traffic behind them to also slam on their brakes. And woe to the asshole five cars back who thought TEXTING in his car was a good plan, because when he rear-ends the person in front of him, it's like an accordion. *smash*crash*bang*BEEEEEEEP!!* Only the fact that the person directly behind Nash and Harrison's vehicle didn't want to GET that close to the car with the blue lights in the back window saves the cop car itself from being rear-ended. "Fuck," Elisabeth mumbles. "Goddamn idi…. " She stops, peers through the front window, and her jaw drops open. "Fer Christ's sake…." If she'd been alone, Liz would have entirely ignored the kid and let him go on about his way. And if Nash doesn't recognize him, she still will. But her instinctive response is shock — what're the odds of just running into the damn kid??

The noise of screeching tires causes Jake to flash a wide-eyed look and simply leap straight into the air, jerking his feet up. Those wishes sometimes require good reflexes, and lately he's been learning a few lessons from certain ex-stuntmen. When he comes down, it's about three feet back, almost to the edge of the crosswalk. The mob over there is not going to even begin to start crossing - at least, not without giving car and kid a wiiiiide berth. Jake looks entirely stunned - the feeling of shock is apparently mutual. And then he tosses a look over his shoulder, changes directions, and veers for the sidewalk, backing away from the no-doubt angry cop. "Hey, sorry, I didn't see you…" Oh shit. Both hands are up, demonstrating the unarmedness. He's not gonna run right off - if he runs, they'll fix that sketch of him so it looks less like a skinhead and they'll know he's guilty of something. Nevertheless, he is keeping his options open - there's open street thataway, and plenty of alleys to get lost in.

"Motherf—" starts Nash as he is slammed forward, his arms coming up to prevent him from breaking his nose on the dashboard in front of him. As the car skids to a halt in front of the kid, Nash turns to watch Elisabeth and her expression of shock. It almost looks as if she recognizes the kid. So, naturally, Nash unlatches his seat belt, and pushes open the door and steps out into the street. "Might want to get out of the street." he leans in and says to Harrison before he thumbs the kid back towards the sidewalk he came from. "How about we handle this without the obligatory footchase?" He looks like he will chase if he has to.

Aw hell. Elisabeth looks in the rearview, flips on the blue lights, and cuts the wheel to pull the car up against the curb with one eye on her partner as she does it. If the kid bolts, she's gonna have to attempt to follow with the car, since she's the one still in the seat belt. "Geez, kid… play it cool," Liz murmurs under her breath as she forces the cars next to her to grudgingly get the hell out of her way just by virtue of being willing to drive into them if they don't either stop (the ones behind) or move (the ones between her and the curb).

Put it this way: the security camera footage was grainy, Jake was wearing a hat and didn't look up, and the shopkeeper described this potentially-Evo kid like a shiftless skinhead teen. There is some leeway, and Jake's aware of that much - but his heart's pounding a mile a minute and he's consciously trying not to do any of the things he did in the video. No touching his face, no waving of gesturing. …He's also incredibly conscious of the small pouch of weed he's got hidden down the front of his pants. That could be a bad, bad thing. "What do you want? I didn't do anything! It was that guy who was following too close, I just took a walk!" And he pops the earbuds out of his ear, finally, reaches into his pocket to turn off the battered old iPod. No, he's not letting Nash get within arm's reach - he'll keep backing away if he has to. Registration puts his life on the line and he's well aware of it. Bright green eyes flash to the cop in the car, and then back to Nash - he is indeed braced to run if the man keeps coming.

Put it THIS way: The kid walked into traffic, wearing headphones and not paying attention to where he was going and caused an accident. that's the way it looks to Nash. Nash has not connected the kid to anything else, even if Liz has. "If you're going to walk, you might want to, you know, open your eyes and look where you're going? Carry a little white cane, if you're going to be wandering around with your lids closed. Get a damn seeing dog or something, for chrissakes!" Nash takes another step forward. "I said move it to the sidewalk, kid. You don't want me to ask my partner to step out here. She got stood up last night and she's mad as hell and looking for a reason to shoot someone."

"Dispatch, this is Harrison, badge number <blahblah>. Send a couple of black and whites to the corner of West 23rd and Hudson. Looks like a three or four-car pile-up." As she opens the car's door and climbs out, Elisabeth rolls her eyes. She can't help it. Slamming the car door shut, she walks casually to the front of the car and asks the kid, "You a student around here? Let's see some ID. No accident means no harm, no foul, kid — but you caused the pile-up, so we're going to have to cite you for jaywalking." At the least. She's watching the kid warily, not mentioning the OTHER part….. cuz you know what? If he did rig it, he gave all the money away, so…. that's all good in her book.

"The sign said walk!" Jay protests desperately - and a bit angrily. This never would've happened if he had his gift. He does retreat onto the sidewalk - but we mentioned staying out of reach of Nash, yes? That counts for Harrison, too. Five to seven foot bubble at all times. "Look, it's not my fault somebody tried to run a red light and somebody else wasn't looking!" Strident, indignant. …But he fishes out his ID. This might pass, if he were, you know, actively able to wish for it. As it is, he's opening his wallet, digging something out… stuffing the wallet away again, not a good sign… and leaning forward just far enough to hand Nash a fake ID. Out of state California thing gives his name as Jacob Devry. It's a decent one, but it's not precisely Mafia-quality - some kid with a laminator and a good hand at photoshop made it. Jake's sweating bullets. …And, as difficult as it is to resist this, which plays directly against every fear he has, he's wishing. Hard. Against a brick wall. The headache is starting to build.

Nash is still clueless about any money or whatever. He just knows the kid was careless and walking into traffic. He reaches for the ID and takes a glance at it, then hands it off to Liz. "Just relax kid. Might not want to walk around with headphones on, you know? That way you can actually hear when tires are screeching around you." Luck or no luck, Nash's curiosity is peaked by the kid's being overly nervous. "She asked if you were a student around here." Nash reaches up to adjust his tie and smooth down the front of his suit.

Taking the ID, Elisabeth gives it a cursory glance and smirks. It's certainly not going to pass muster — blatantly fake. But then again, he's a kid and frazzled. "Calm down," she says soothingly. She holds the ID back out to the kid between two fingers. "All right…. I'm feeling generous today. You're still getting the ticket for jaywalking, and I'm not gonna cite you for handing me your fake ID for the bar. If you gimme shit about the jaywalking — or if you don't pay it! — I'm going to let my partner loose on you, though." She smirks. "And fer Christ's sake, leave one of the earbuds out when you're crossing busy roads." She heads back for the car for the citation book, coming back with a faint grumble under her breath. Can't remember the last time she actually wrote a damn citation. "Now gimme your real ID to write the ticket with," she says to Jay, holding out her hand for him to hand it to her.

"SUNY," Jake says, more mumbles, staring at Nash - but then Liz offers back his ID and he blinks, then reaches out to take it. Cautiously. …And the tirade? Well. He turns red - actually blushes. That, at least, seems to have startled him right out of his ineffectual wishing - he looks a little poleaxed. An intensely wary look shoots between the two. Give his real ID to the cops? …This is madness. Of course, this is also New York. They're totally gonna go after him any second now, he's sure of it… but the chick cop, at least, isn't acting like it, and… gah. His brain's going in circles, and it hurts, and the ineffective wishing is back, and… "Ow." Spike of sudden pain through the forehead, and he presses fingers between his eyes, wincing. The nosebleed, freshly healed, starts up again - though blood won't actually make an appearance for another moment or two. "Seriously, sign said walk." Twitch. But that's grumbled rather than spoken directly, and he… fishes out the wallet again, takes out the real ID, puts away the bar-hopping ID, and cautiously, ever so cautiously, offers it over. "Please don't call my dad." Who might be known to New York's finest given he's given them trouble in years past, hunting things down - though his typical haunts are in South America, thankfully. …And there's the blood. Drip. It lands on his shirt and he looks down. "Shit." Jake grabs the bridge of his nose, still incredibly jittery. This is probably the stupidest thing he's ever done in his life.

Oh, lookie who has a hanky in his pocket. Nash plucks it out and hands it over. See? He can be nice. "Here." Tilting his head to the side for a moment, Nash is considering the kid as Liz deals with the citation. "You live on campus?" Nash is certain not to get too close to the kid gushing blood. "Get nosebleeds much?" Sure, he's got lots of questions. Check his pocket, he's got a miniversion of the Book of Questions.

Jake does his level best to ignore the additional cars. He really is about ready to run - hey, hanky. "Thanks, man. Naah, I live in a frat." Clamp. "It's winter, my nose bleeds all over the fucking place. Every time I take a damn walk." He's grumbling still, but watching Liz and that ID like a hawk - and still keeping his distance. He's begun to untense a little. Maybe that wish actually went through? It sure seems to be working - but then again, he has no way of knowing that for sure. Of course, watching Liz so close he's not paying too much attention to Nash, so this could be bad. She's got his real name, though, and his ID, and she might not give them back! It's worth worrying about.

Oh she'll give them back. After a thorough inspection, a quick memorization of his name and the address on the license, and the filling out of a ticket that's going to cost him either a lawyer or a chunk of change to handle. But hey! You can't have it all, right? Elisabeth's pen scratches across the paper - scritch, scritch! And she moves to tear off the ticket, handing it and the ID back to the kid as he holds the hanky to his bleeding nose. "Try saline spray. Helps me when the air's dry," she tells the kid mildly. "C'mon, Nash, I got shit to do tonight."

Nash starts to respond to Jake, but Liz intervenes which is okay because about that time a leggy blond walks by and Nash's attention is diverted for a few moments. Really, he's just making sure that she.. doesn't.. trip.. or.. something. Really. Really. Harrison's voice snaps him out of his leering as he turns back to her and, "Ohrightyeah." He turns to Jake. "Stay out of trouble, kid." He starts to get into the vehicle as he hollars at Harrison. "You always have shit to do. Disappear without a word. You're not shady, right?" He shuts the door behind him as he buckles himself in.

Elisabeth watches Jay very closely as she flips her book closed. She floats her voice to the kid's ears alone even as he backpedals away, "I'm letting you walk because you gave the ticket to the Red Cross. Don't make me regret that decision, kiddo. Watch yourself out there." And then she pivots on a heel and walks back to the car, snarking at Nash as she climbs in, "Of course I'm shady. Haven't you heard? I slept my way into the badge and my position on the squad and every other thing that's come my way." There's a tone to her voice that intimates he better not even think about taking THAT line of bullshit as anything resembling fact. "But in point of fact," she tells him as she starts the car again, "I got a hot date tonight!"

Nash eyes Liz as she gets into the car. "Please tell me it was Commissioner Lau that you slept with to get to the top. Oh please let it be." He makes a motion of prayer, then smirks as he watches the kid as they drive off.

Wow. Okay, Jake's now white as a sheet, with the hankie halfway up his nose, and backpedaling a little more firmly. He's gonna… go 'round the block the other way before he tries crossing the street again. Talk about close calls. The kid retreats, flinging the cop car wide-eyed looks.

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