Participants:
| Scene Title | Thief! |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Laura demonstrates an absence of professional solidarity when a pickpocket practices his trade right in front of two patrol officers. |
| Date | November 20, 2010 |
A Street in the Bronx
It's a sunny, albeit crisp, autumn afternoon in the Bronx, a pleasant day for being outdoors. Such is Laura's conclusion, anyway, as she stands on the sidewalk, one shoulder braced comfortably against an ornamented lamppost. Dressed in gray pants and a powder-blue coat, she's just one more pedestrian — in the still-active sections of New York City, they're just about a dime a dozen, in all shades from business-prim to gothic-black. Most of them, however, are occupied with connecting the dots between here and there, in the busy-busy rush which inspired the phrase New York minute. The same is true for the cars, on this weekend day not burdened by the morass of rush hour traffic but able to flow rather easily.
The pale-haired woman has her back to the street, a styrofoam cup held between her hands; close inspection would reveal it to be about three-quarters full of dark liquid, presumably coffee. There's coffee shops and to spare on every New York street, though not this particular block. A bookstore, an herbal supplements store tucked next to some kind of office building, a clothing store, and a corner market — the usual urban melange of shops make up this side of the street.
Enter…a pair of uniformed cops. One is a black female, 5'7", and skinny and petite. The other? A white male, 5'9" and…typically white, with perhaps a little bit of a donut belly showing. Both are carrying coffee cups and taking sips every now and then. It appears that the female cop, Christine Jackson (as seen on her uniform), is talking present. "I'm tellin' ya, Kirkland. S Club Seven was totally at the height of awesome when I was in school…and they were still together. But that's beside the point. They were all 'Essss cluuub, there ain't no party like an ess club party!' You can't tell me you didn't think they weren't awesome!" The donut belly cop, Kirkland, just gives Christine a blank look. She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Be that way. I'll just have to bring one of their CDs and play it for you when we're patrolling in the car! You'll have to admit how awesome they are after that!"
Laura turns her head towards the carrying voice, smirking more than a little at Christine's pronouncement. Chuckling, she lifts the cup and watches them approach, disregarded by most of the pedestrians as just another part of city life. The styrofoam stops just before touching her lips, another bit of movement distracting the young woman's eye. A collision between a businessman walking by and a young, casually-dressed man exiting the clothing store in a rush isn't exactly remarkable; predictably, the businessman brushes the youth off, the young man isn't much more polite, and they walk in separate directions. But Laura's eyes narrow, watching the businessman double-take; check his pocket; turn around.
"My wallet. Stop! Thief!" He turns back towards the two officers down the way. "Officers!"
The young man startles, and starts running down the street — away from the cops, concidentally, whom he hadn't even realized was there.
Laura just shakes her head.
Wallet? Stop? Thief? Officers? Where?! By the law's powers combined…with frogs and snails and puppy dog tails, they are…Bronx Cops! It doesn't take much provocation before Christine and her partner are off, running after said thief. He's not hard to detect. After all, he's the one that's running away from them. Christine seems to have a little bit more speed on 'Donut Belly' Kirkland, and is weaving every which way through people to get to the thief. "Stop! Police!" she shouts after the man.
He isn't interested in stopping, for obvious reasons; and the crowd, by and large, seems mostly inclined to stop and observe in I'm-not-involved fascination, neither helping anyone nor actively hindering either side. The first rule of any city: stick to your business and stay out of everyone else's. The young man might even have a solid chance of escaping his pursuit —
— if Laura didn't stick out her foot and trip him as he passed by. He wasn't expecting to meet the concrete so abruptly, and loses precious time to surprise before attempting to scramble back up.
"Clumsy," the young woman murmurs, not referring to the fall. "Always keep your eyes open."
It isn't long before Christine arrives. She did Track and Field all the way through college. She's used to speed…and having obstacles. Before the man can get fully back up again, Christine is pushing him to the ground. "Well, I guess today is your unlucky day." Looking up at Laura, as she waits for Kirkland to catch up, she smiles. "I can assume I've got you to thank for this?" She nods her head in the man's downward position.
Laura watches the cop secure the offender, shrugging slightly and offering a cheerful smile when the woman turns her attention upwards. "Aw, just a little bit, really. I don't think he'd have outrun you. Pretty quick on your feet," she compliments the officer. The businessman comes up with Kirkland, anxiously demanding his wallet returned, to Laura's slight amusement that isn't entirely hidden behind a sip from her cup. Such a needy man.
Slapping cuffs on the thief, Christine drags the man onto his feet, keeping a firm hold on him. "Still…I can be fast as a lightning bolt, but you still helped me. Thank you. It's much appreciated, ma'am." As Kirkland and the businessman approach, she gives Kirkland a sharp nod. "Thanks for joining us. Care to give our friendly neighbourhood thief a pat down and get our unhappy gentleman his wallet back? Thank you." The wallet is found without much trouble. Looking to the man who the wallet was stolen from, she says, "Sir, would you care to press charges?"
The businessman's grumbled, not exactly gracious response mostly amounts to I want my wallet and to get on with my day, I have important meetings to get to. Likely a relief to the thief, that pressing charges would take up more time than the businessman is willing to relinquish. In fact, as he trundles off, the handcuffed young man relaxes enough to turn a resentful glower upon Laura.
The young woman grins impishly, and is sufficiently undignified to stick her tongue out at him in return. Some days, she doesn't act her age at all.
Christine shakes her head as she fishes out the key for the cuffs and unlocks them. "You're lucky, man. But if I catch you again, you'll regret it; now get out of here before we all change our minds. 'Cause I'll drag that man to the precinct to press those charges if I have to! Believe me, I will!" Shaking her head, she turns to face Laura. "Once again, thank you. Most of us will have a good day," she says, rolling her eyes. As an aside to Kirkland, she says, "Man, I was totally hoping for an arrest. But you can't have 'em all, eh?" She smirks.
Laura watches the thief bolt off down the street, chuckling at the officer's aside to her partner. "Indeed, you can't," she agrees cheerily. "Though if he was bold enough— " or stupid enough "— to pickpocket with two cops in plain sight, well… you'll probably see him again." She takes another sip of her drink, nodding towards the officers. "So, is that the highlight of the day, or just another day on the job?" the young woman asks curiously.
Christine sighs and turns back to Laura, shrugging. "Just an average day in the Bronx, I hate to say. But hey, you stick around here long enough and you try not to think about it too much, you know? Just take one day at a time and be sure not to let it get to ya. Easier for me to say than my partner here." She shoots Kirkland an amused smirk.
"Yeah? That's what you think, Jackson. I've been on the force longer than you have. I'll be saying what's easy or not for me." Kirkland responds quickly.
Christine smirks and shakes her head. "He may've been on the force longer, and his belly is showin' it. He's had one too many donuts in his time." She grins as Kirkland just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
"Fair enough." Laura grins at the banter between the two partners. "I'll let you get back to your — patrol? Hopefully you won't have to throw the next one back!" she concludes, lifting her cup slightly in a polite salute. Tugging her sleeves down a bit to better shield the backs of her hands from the brisk afternoon air, Laura steps away from the lamppost to begin moving on down the street.
Christine smiles softly at Laura. "You have a good day, now. And be safe. You never ever know when trouble will find ya. Like to our friend the fancily dressed dude." She says happily. Turning back the way they came, Christine looks to Kirkland, "Back to the car, I assume? Or do you fancy some more walking?" Kirkland just grunts as they start to walk along.
