Law Abiding Citizens


aude_icon.gif cooper_icon.gif felix_icon.gif

gillian2_icon.gif logan_icon.gif vincent_icon.gif

Scene Title Law Abiding Citizens
Synopsis Sadly, there may only be one of them in this scene. In the wake of a Refrain raid, Aude and Cooper have their spoils picked over by Internal Affairs, Felix catches wind of something smelly and Gillian lights up the NYPD's servers like a purple Christmas tree.
Date November 15, 2009

NYPD Headquarters

While the department would be winding down with the shifts changing over, today is just not the case. With the large drug den raid, officers have been asked to stay over to help out the next shift. The report room is noisy and rather full of people — many are in the NYPD uniform, but most are in clothes fit for the dumpster.. and the place reeked of unwashed bodies.

One of those unwashed and grungy looking folks is NYPD Detective Thomas Cooper, having been undercover for the passed few days, shooting up in Refrain and just trying all and all to be a witness and discover what he can. His fingers are wrapped around the upper arm of Mr. Fancy Pants, as Cooper thinks of him. The ease of how it all went down, still nags at the back of his mind, but having worked Narcotics for several years, you get use to raids going bad in someway. He glances behind him for Officer Castalides, who he put in charge of dragging in Gillian, since if he did it, he just knew he'd get charged with some sort of harassment. "Let's get these two book so I can get a damn shower… Tired of smelling myself." He scratches at the several day stubble on his jaw, as he guides Logan through the chaos. "Shave too."

"I'm not enjoying it much on this end either." That would be Logan, who hadn't spoken a word of true complaint when Cooper had taken it upon himself to grab his arm and haul him station-wards, but now that he mentions it, a quick sneer curls his lip. "Easy, this suit's probably worth more than you make in half a year, officer." Detective. Whatever. Said suit, three-piece, is black, faint silvery-grey pinstripe marking lines down it, with a splash of colour in the form of a silken-textured shirt with the collar splayed open.

He's probably the better dressed of the lot being pulled in, even including the drug den owner in her slinky dress, scowling and snarling off rapid fire Korean at the officer leading her in ahead of them. Logan only wishes he had the energy for hissing and spitting, although the edge in his voice conveys all the fraying patience it needs to. Dreading the phonecall he's anticipating making, he's not asking for it, either.

"Yes sir" Aude's fine with following orders. Quicker she can pass over the evo's and get out of the room, the happier she'll be. There isn't just the stink of unwashed bodies. It's being in a room with so many god damned freaks too. "Whine whine whine, maybe you shouldn't wear your suit if you can't afford the drycleaning hmm?" Her own hand around Gillian's upper arm. She doens't want to touch the woman, there' the thought that she'd rather be putting bullets in the head of everyone with the freak gene in here. "Come on Chica, lets get moving. I got dinner to get to"

"I want a phone call," Gillian says almost as soon as she's inside. Eyes squinting shut, she's got a bandage wrapped around her head, having seen paramedics at the scene, but not being hurt quite enough to go to a hospital. Though with head injuries that could always change. There's nothing nice about this situation.

The winner of second best dressed may well be Det. Vincent Lazzaro, who's standing somewhere around the front of the line in the report room for reasons comprehensible only to him and the commissioner. More than anything he and his open file folder are taking up space that could be used for something else, like hauling prisoners around, and he catches more than a few dirty looks in the few instances where his glasses (and bald head) glint up under harsh florescent light to take inventory of the gathered officers.

Promisingly, none of them look to be particularly stoned, and for just a few fleeting seconds, Cooper and Aude might feel those dark eyes browsing carefully across their tired faces before his attention catches on something else entirely. The businesslike blandness of his expression hardens into something more like ill-suppressed irritation, and with a muttered curse, he flips his folder shut and pockets his pen so that he can shoulder his way through the crowd for the four of them.

"Warning, asshole, incoming" Aude mutters in an aside to cooper as the sight of Vincent, bearing down on them from across the room. "Hold onto your criminal, lest you loose to his evil internal affairs clutches!" Whispered loud enough for Cooper to hear, and possibly Logan and Gillian.

"Does it?" Cooper asks curiously, peering at the jacket as if scrutinizing it… "Dayam… It is rather snazzy. A little too posh for a crappy little den like the Hook." A brow is arched at Logan, somewhat questioning, an amused smirk on his lips as he guides the man to a hard plastic chair. Helping him to sit till it's his turn with the sergeants. "Have a seat, fancy pants… Till we can get you processed, you are registered right? "The question is standard of course, before her glances towards Gillian and starts to say something…. He catches a form coming through the crowd. "Uh.. oh." The words are soft spoken as he straightens, trying to look less like a thug and more the detective he is despite the clothing.

Well that earns Cooper points, but it'll take more than a compliment to climb him back out of the negatives. "Yes, I'm Registered. A Registered, law abiding citizen, and you can let go of my fucking arm, handsome," is hissed out, Logan twisting free of any urging to sit down, arms rigid against the cuffs that would be more welcome in separate contexts. Not this one, in particular. However, when attention diverts off him— !!!— and towards the approaching suit, Logan can't help but share a look as well—

— and fix there, suddenly quiet and stock still, as alert as a predator. Or prey. Some kind of wild animal, anyway, that's eyeing up another with some measure of scrutiny.

No moves are made to struggle by her, but the mention of Registration earns a gritting of the young woman's teeth. Gillian certainly didn't carry a card on her person, and there's little in the way of identification in her bag. She'd been traveling light, perhaps due to the place she was trying to pull someone out of. "I am going to get a phone call before you guys throw away the fucking key or something, right?"

Vincent's suit is black. Most of them seem to be. The shirt underneath is a light, neutral shade of green, with diagonal shades of sharper pistachio to distinguish the darker knot of his tie. Unfortunately, pretty green does little to distract from the fact that he's bearing down on them like Assistant Principal of the NYPD, save maybe for the off attention deficit pondering if his mother picked it out for him.

Logan's stock stillness is taken in and noted at a sweeping glance. Not a friendly one, either: black as pitch in its smudge from toes to nose before Internal Affairs has focused its attention squarely between Cooper and Aude — the latter with a discomfiting linger. "Cooter, isn't it? Scooter, something like that. What did you pick this one up on?"

"He called you cooter" Aude can't help it, and doesn't even attempt to stiffle a snort. "Listen, chica, you'll get your call, when you get your call. You'll get your lawyer, we already read you your rights okay" It's not a question, it's a statement. She'll get it, when she gets it. Aude looks between Vincent and Cooper expectantly. Right, because, you know, detectives do all the work. beat cops just stand there with their thumb up their ass and spin.

It's the word handsome that just about makes Cooper let go of the guys arm, rather quickly… Not that he has a problem with people like that… it's just…. yeah. "Sorry, buddy.." Copper murmurs, not taking his eyes off the approaching storm. "No letting go till your sitting." A glance is given to Gillian and the Detective frowns slightly, "No need to get panties in a twist.. You'll get your call after your booked, so can it." His words echoing Aude's.

When the scary IA guy is finally to them, the detective tries to put on a confident grin. Aude's comment is somewhat ignored, else he might snicker himself and he has to try at at least keep some of his dignity. "Cooper…" He corrects quickly before going on. "This individual was hanging around the drug den. He was pointed out to me as a man to get more Refrain from by the owner of the place." The facts, pure and simple.

The detective gets a glare, because Logan doesn't really~ believe he's sorry at all, but otherwise, he's keeping his mouth shut as Vincent approaches and asks his question. The strip club manager's back is as straight as Cooper, shoulders squared— until he gets to make a show of rolling his eyes at the facts being laid out to the Internal Affairs, but again, says nothing. He has the right to, and all that.

"Fine," Gillian mutters under her breath, but stops her demands for a phonecall at least. For the moment. It will likely start up again as soon as there's the opportunity. Instead she lowers her head down and to the side, grimacing. Getting pistol whipped by a police officer didn't leave her head feeling wonderful, that's for sure.

"Mm," says Vincent, "okay." As if what is going on here is suddenly very clear to him. He's standing before Cooper and Aude, each with cuffed prisoners in tow (currently in a war for prettiest on the books) and has a manilla file folder in one hand, which makes him look Professional and Important despite the fact that he is shorter than most of the men here, and a few of the ladies too. Left hand lifted in lazy and belated apology (or more likely, dismissal) for his having misremembered Cooper's name, he glances to Aude and Gillian again as if measuring up the pair of them before he gestures more vaguely down at Logan's midsection.

"Has he given you his name? Nevermind — long story. It doesn't matter. I need you to release him to my custody. I'll see that you get your cuffs back. You can keep yours." The last is to Aude, and deliberate in the way people are when they're slowly crushing the life out of someone's crossed fingers.

There's the three-beat cadence of Felix's approach. Like the HQ's own personal Long John Silver, only minus the parrot. And then…ooh, John Logan. There's a decidedly malicious expression on the Fed's face as he comes up, though he doesn't say anything in particular. Looks like Vincent there has it under control.

"So sad Cooter" Aude replies with a grin. "I don't think we'll be keeping her long, she was only in there to fetch someone while they were frying their brain on drugs. She'll probably get out soon" Faint hope for Gillian, for now, since Aude hasn't run the womans name yet or prints. She'll at least have to be registered. "After she's registered. You're eyes turn a pretty purple there, don't they chica. Bet the test turns red for you. Come on" Tugging the woman to go find an empty desk"

"Uh…. No?" Cooper answers the question about the name anyhow. "Hadn't gotten that far yet." A hand lifts to brush greasy hair out of his eyes, as he studies the Internal Affairs guy with some suspicion. "What in gods name could IA need with a drug pimp? He was fingered as a source." Not that Cooper is really questioning it, but it does seem really odd to him, even if he's pulling Fancy Pants towards Vincent. He feels like he's loosing an important puzzle piece, but lucky for the bald man, Cooper has a healthy fear of that part of the department. He has to resist the urge to give Aude a good natured, one finger salute as he lets go of Logan finally, his jaw clenched as he tries to not say anything else, finally he gives a heavy sigh. "Yeah… just make sure I get the cuffs back…. They ain't cheap." His words come out somewhat flat.

Logan's own fingers aren't crossed, but they could be. Or should be. He's as quiet and still as someone's attentive, well-trained and nicely groomed lap spaniel, although in hindsight, more suggestive snarling might have him handed over quicker. He doesn't, however, speak out against accusations about drugs - nor does he speak for them, only sets his jaw and endures this part. Aude and Gillian's journey passed him is tracked with some indifference, a look given to the latter as if in shared sympathy over the fact she got the bitch cop.

Which doesn't mean Logan doesn't also mutter, "Ha ha," at the girl's misfortune on getting processed before he can be.

Breathe in, breathe out. Felix's approach is only belatedly acknowledged, the sight of someone coming into his periphery at their odd walk. Malicious expression is met with a stonier stare, before it dips down towards this little arrangement of cane and feet, the erstwhile pimp's eyebrows going up. Of course, now he's being manhandled in Vincent's direction, moving stiffly at first before Logan recognises that this isn't a bad thing—

"Good boy," is noted with that same sneer as Cooper releases his arm.

Unfortunately, Gillian knows the prints and blood tests won't exactly do her any favors if she wanted to get out of this situation quickly. At least there won't be drug charges added on top of everything else… Still, all she gives in response to the tiny ray of hope is a grunt under her breath, and a raspy, "At least if we're going towards desks that means I can sit down— Head's kinda hurting. From the whole getting fucking hit part of the evening." Which, depending on how the next couple hours go, could end up being the best part of the night.

"I'm sure he was." Patronizing even in bored understanding of Cooper's reluctance to hand over his legitimately obtained ten pounds of hair gel in a five pound (Dolce and Gabbana) sack, Vincent accepts the exchange as he would the passing of a spare cigarette: without blinking an eye. "If you have any questions we can discuss them in my office later, or you can take it through the chain of command."

Sounding only slightly rehearsed, he pauses long enough to give Gillian and Aude both the slightest of appreciative up-and-downs through the slant of his glasses as he takes firmer hold of Logan's arm. Then they're both moving. Presumably for the way out, even if it's hard to get there with any kind of directness. Full room and all.

Felix looks to Cooper and Aude, since they seem the most likely to explain, "'Who brought 'em in?" He still looks very pleased, in that schadenfreude kind of way.

"We did Agent Ivanov. Good old fashioned En, Why, Pee, Dee" Not little feddy's swooping in to steal stuff. "Though you're welcome to swoop in and help process people, do the evo tests. Was a refrain den as well as other stuff. Missy here, she glows purple eyes. That one" A gesture to logan. "Dealing" Cooper and her both saw it. Doing something with Refrain. "But IA is swooooping in to steal mr. spiffy pants there" Yes, Vincent can likely hear Aude as she settles Gillian down at a desk. "Wanna get the evo test while I get her name?"

Its at moments like this that it is good that Cooper isn't known to have a temper, what kind of detective would he be if he didn't have some control on that at least. The sneer is met with a crooked smirk and a raised brow. "Woof." There is a concealed, 'Fuck You' in that single word.

Once Vincent and Logan are out of hearing range is hands move to his hip, he knows he's getting screwed.. He knew this raid was going to well. His head drops down and her lets out a soft.. "Fffffucking A…" He glances up at the retreating forms and shakes his head. "Damn it…" A few more choice words are uttered before glancing at Felix. Backing up Aude's words he states, "Raid on a Drug den." He motions Logan's way. "Fancy Pants, was pointed out as a source for Refrain."

And back we go. Logan casts one final glance at the trio of law doers and their own pretty criminal before he focuses on walking with Vincent, far less bothered by the man's grip on his arm in comparison to Cooper's of previous. He's relaxed a little more beneath the fine lines of his suit, demeanor brightening at the prospect of being dragged off in a new direction. "The NYPD taken to hiring 12-year-olds, now are they? Blimey. I can't say it's not nice to see you, Mr. Lazzaro." Logan jostles his arm a little in the older man's grip. "What say you get these things off me, I've had enough of 'em for one night. I can walk fine on my own."

For a moment "glowing eyes girl" casts a tired and pained look toward the FBI guy, looking at him curiously. He seems somewhat familiar, but there's been enough people in the last year going in and out of her life that she's sure he's just another face in the crowd. Little does Gillian know they were once practically neighbors. They even worked together at one point or another— not directly, but on similar things. Cooperate— not cooperate… She settles into a seat with a groan and leans her head back a bit. "Sooner this gets over with, sooner I can lay down with some ice or something…" Fuck all. Fingerprints, blood tests… "Name's Gillian Childs." Delaying the inevitable will just means she has to sit there longer.

And wouldn't you know it, near automatically, Lazzaro's left hand dips around his side to feel absently for the small silvery key that's brought around in the barest of metal gleams to embed itself in the locking mechanism of John Logan's handcuffs. One side falls away just as they pass out of the room into the hall beyond, already pacing for the lobby when the shorter man folds the cuffs over and tucks them away. Key and all. "It's Detective Lazzaro. And if you so much as make eye contact with anyone," he smooths his lapel down in a ghost of a nervous tic, glaring briefly at the passage of his own reflection through a framed photograph, "god help me I will personally ram the book so far up your dilapidated anus that you spend the next week coughing up old condoms and pages of penal code."

"Lazzaro, hold on," Fel says, casually. "He's wanted in a Federal case. Let me see if they want him in their custody," His tone is completely offhand, though he's watching the pair go with something far more nervous gleaming in his eyes.

And the fed goes running off. After a bigger fish. Go fucking figure. "Hey, cooter" SHe's not gonna give it up. "You wanna get the evo kit, or you wanna run the name? I'll let it be your choice what you wanna do" Handcuffs are not taken off Gillian's wrists, but a kindly officer does walk by and proffer up an ice pack. 'Wanna tell us what you can do there Ms. Childs or do we get to guess what the purple eyes means?'

Hands scrub at his face, as the exhaustion from the last several days catch up to Cooper. He doesn't like how that whole thing went down, but then… it had been going too well. He gives another sigh and moves to go about his own business, he stops by the desk Aude is occupying. "What I want to do is get the hell out of here and get a shower… I can smell the stink of that damn place." He grumbles feeling a bit cranky. "I got look up…" But he drops himself at a desk close by instead and quickly types in a pass code to get him into the system, before he starts entering an inquiry into the system.

Hands still in cuffs, Gillian picks up the icepack to push it against the side of her head, closing her eyes for a long moment. "I react to other Evolved. Sometimes I glow when they're using their abilities." Enough of a truth to be verifiable, but definitely keeping something simple. "Think somebody did something to me before I got hit on the head." Course depending on how detailed the files are on Gillian Childs, she doesn't doubt they already got a few ideas what she can do. But doesn't mean she won't try to lie.

There is a low impressed whistle from where Cooper is, his brows lifting slightly at what comes up on the screen, his face has a bit of a glow from the writing on the monitor. Of course, they can't see it, though as he looks passed to Gillian, it can't be good.. "Get comfy Miss Childs… You'll be here for awhile." A few more keystrokes and with a flourish he hit the print about the time Aude returns. "There you go…" He directs that to Aude, "I'm hitting the mens locker room and grab a quick show while that prints out." He studies Gillian for a moment before adding, "Pretty sure you got a good handle on this one, Castalides."

His head turns in the direction the other's disappeared. That's gonna bother Cooper for a good long while. "I'll be back." He murmurs before starting in the direction of the locker room.

Detective, giving it up? Aude's not gonna pass it up as she snatches up the print out so she can scan over it. Yep, the picture from license matches the woman in front of her. She emits a low whistle, putting down the small box she brought with her. "Yes indeedy, santa has come to town and gave me exactly what I wanted. Homeland is gonna come and pick you over like a vulture"

Homeland Security. Gillian closes her eyes and leans into the icepack. "Think they'll still let me have a phone call?" she can't help but ask, as she waits for everything to settle in. Yeah, getting hit in the head might end up being the high point of her day.

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