Something Borrowed[Montoya, Gotham PD, Bullock]

[Deleted]

She'd forgotten about the stupid Lamire case. Straight up forgotten about it. And considering she had limited resources, she thought she'd stop by and ask someone who did know. And considering she had about 45 million meetings later, and was still dealing with crutches and her damn foot, she needed to get hopping. So it was a cab to get coffee, grab her espresso, and head West from there. Because later on she'd be looking at menus, meeting with another client, meeting with Luthor, then hopefully a later dinner with Charlotte.

Shaking her head she looked in the mirror, realizing that one knee-high boot with jeans, and her cast looked a bit odd. Gritting her teeth she sat on the bed, contemplating what else she could do to minimize the 'oh, you got busted up' questions.

There was really no way around it. Considering Joker was detained it was pretty safe out. Save for the bombing in the morning. And what a clusterfuck that had been. In more ways than one. When the two had arrived at the station, she knew more than one set of eyes had realized she wasn't just wearing a dress, but a dress made from a man's shirt. A pale lavender oxford belonging to a certain detective who favored suits and colorful shirts. Well, they hadn't had time to hike the 10 minutes to her place, because, well, bombing.

Either way, she had to get to the station. Look up a few files, and get out. And about now was the perfect time, because someone liked to debrief and do whatever he did midmorning. So hopping to her closet she pulled out a pair of thick black tights, ripping a hole in the left one. It wasn't pretty, but it would make due for now. Boot off, she was able to slip into the thick tights, slip her boot back on, and find that green dress that was good in any weather. A few rings, a bracelet, well, no. Bracelets made noise with crutches. A necklace for the boatneck, and a pair of earrings would work. Her warm outer peacoat, tied at the waist. And her shoulderbag. The less she could do with her hands, the better. Her earpiece was fitted in, a text sent to Kit, and off she was.

The cafe was nice enough to pour her espresso and cream into her spill-proof carafe, which she was able to tuck into the side of her bag. The order of pastries she had secured would be delivered, other than the small bag she tucked away. It was then into the cab again before she was dropped at the PD. Slipping the ID badge she was given for her consultation status, she wasn't asked too many questions as she crutched through the different areas, until she got to the bullpen. And the set of desks pushed together. Thankfully Theo wasn't at his mess, and neither was Renee. Bivins was doing some navel grazing, and she went to his desk first. "Leo. 7 minutes and there is going to be an order from the cafe. Can you go grab it for me? I would've brought them in, but,". she shrugged, motioning to the crutches. "Thanks.". She'd offer with a wink.

Another detective out of her hair. A cursory glance showed that barely anyone had made it in yet. But the telltale signs that Harvey was here were evident. His computer on, and logged in. A few things had been scattered. His jacket over his chair. Perfect. Making her way to his desk she stood there, leaning on her crutches as she shook her head at the stacks upon stacks upon piles of case-files, magazines, and other erratta. Lemire would be in petty crimes, or larceny, depending on how he'd been classifying things. Taking a seemingly random pile, she flipped open the first file, and noticed it was not petty crimes. Pursing her lips she looked to another, and found it was the larceny cases. A small part of her was joyful at that, and she leaned over to pluck the file from it's stack, and sat down in his chair, legs crossed as she started to flip through it. She had ten minutes tops to get what she needed. And while she was a staple around the office, with no desk of her own, hopefully no one would ask too many questions about what she was doing. After all, Detective Leutenant of MCU whatever would just crab at her and tell her to make photocopies or take a picture, instead of messing up his system.

That reminded her. Opening up her bag she slipped out several candybars, and put them into his third slim desk drawer on the left. If he was going to gripe, she'd direct him there. She'd paid the toll, and he'd know it.

[Deleted]

Bivins was fiddling on his phone when Selina came in, watching a YouTube video of some girl getting hit in the face with something and discovering she had superpowers. He seemed more in thought than usual and blinked when Selina spike to him.

" Whazzat? Order? Uh, sure thing Cleavaga, I mean Slitina, I mean bosses sorta girlfriend with eyes...hi." She was probably reading the files or something and wanted him out of the room or she'da asked the uniforms, but she was hot and she asked nice and Bivins was sick of being called paranoid just because he keeps checking the toilets for bugs and tried to map out the air vents in case he had to do a die hard style infiltration of the building to fight Snape, and it's much more likely she just needed a hand and he was closest and/or cuter than anyone else currently in the floor.

Ockham's razor will cut you like a knife. Besides he had posts to his rp board. And that other question that kept bugging him. He got up to get her order absentmindedly. He muttered to himself "but the wizard wouldn't expose himself to scrutiny...He does rule with an iron fist..."

Bivins walked away fiddling with his phone to get the order

[Deleted]

Styrofoam cups suck all the passion out of coffee, leaving only the bitterness and the rage of a beast that sits in the bottom of the Major Crimes Unit's heavily patina'd Mr. Coffee. 

Montoya and Bullock have been complaining to unit captain Sawyer about it for weeks without making an inch of progress. Taking their mugs away, fine. That was a necessary precaution ever since that Wrath freak broke out of the interview room and used sharp pencils and shattered coffee mugs to fight his way through four MCU detectives AND the commissioner. Hell, Bullock had to pick porcelain out of his hair for two days. The press and the lawyers would have a field day if the unit didn't change its policy after that. 

But the coffee... God knows how Maggie can even drink that stuff. It tasted watery and acrid before the Exodus of the Mugs, but in styrofoam, it's acrid and acidic and foul and oily, and it clings to the tongue like a spurned lover desperate to hold off the breakup one more day. It's awful. Montoya couldn't even stand it long enough to get the caffeine in her system... She had to get up, pour a few gulps of it down the drain, and water it down. 

"Almost makes you want to switch to tea," she mutters with disgust.

Timing, as they say, is everything. Renée steps out of the breakroom, past the Big Board, and is about to check which case names have turned black during night shift when her eyes flick over to movement at Bullock's desk. 

Miss Kyle. She's on the far side of their shared desk, so Renée can't see her leg cast, but her eyes are drawn almost immediately to the crutches. There's a pang of depression there... She's not completely clear on the details of what happened, and she's still kind of in friend-of-a-friend status with Selina - heavens know that's changing, because you just cannot be someone's partner without being awful close with the lady they're... Well, less said about that, the better - but she knows it was something bad, and she know Bullock isn't happy about it. Again... Can't be someone's partner without feelin' a little of that.

Her eyes trace up the crutches, noting her stance, the way she's favoring her other leg. Her hips are a little out of whack... Selina's usually the queen of catlike grace, and it's a little sad to see her without it. Also, nobody looks good with their underarms supporting their weight, which is absolutely what happens when their hands are busy flipping through a file.

And then, Renée is acutely aware of Selina's breasts in that dress. It takes a couple seconds of wide-eyed, lip-parted staring to pull herself away from that one. Cannot blush. You can't blush. Anyone could walk in.

She pulls herself through it by focusing on the file Selina's holding. That's Larceny. Selina slips off her crutches and into the chair, sitting like she owns it, which still raises Renée's hair a little. And she's not sure it's in a bad way. She has her suspicions about... Well, anyway.

Renée crosses the room and places a hand on her side of the desk, leaning down. (Maybe juuust enough for the open button of her top to be showing her off a little.) "Hey, M- Selina. Can I help you find something?"

[Deleted]

If nothing else, Leo Bivins would bring a smile to your face. And today it did, as he mangled her name, and again refered to her as something she wasn't exactly. But wasn't not exactly, either. She'd have to talk to Theo about that. Much after he found out she'd been screwing with his desk. Maybe they'd give her more than just a log-in someday, so she could help them out more. "Selina, Leo. And thanks. I'd do it, but...crutches. Don't trip." She offered the rookie, realizing he was pretty much glued to his phone. He was off mumbling something, and thankfully she was able to get to the desk.

It's then when she's acutely aware of Renee hovering over her. Not like she's busted, but being genuine about what she's snooping into. "Hey Renee," There are just some officers that she knows well enough she's not going to use titles and last names and all that crap. Glancing up, she realizes Renee is right there, and looks pretty damn good today. "No, I actually got it, but thanks. I keep talking to Maggie about getting my desk, but I saw this one was open." Always cheeky. "So I found it, and thought I'd get in and out before Theo starts griping at me. I didn't mess up whatever system he's got. And if he crabs? Tell him to check the third drawer. I just need to make photocopies of this, and I'm good to go." It's going to be a bitch to hobble over to the copier, but she's more than willing to do it, and get gone.

"Oh! And Leo is bringing in the pastry order. I thought if I was going to stop by, I'd at least bring something for you guys. Especially considering...the explosions, Joker, you know." And to hopefully fend off quetions from Renee. Who she adores, but is too damn keen on a few topics she doesn't want to discuss.

[Deleted]

Hmm. There's something off about that. 

Renée shrugs a little. It's been a hard life in the stationhouse lately. "Thanks. I mean, you didn't have to do that for us, but... Eh, you know how it is around here. If there's one thing this office needs right now, it's something puffy and sweet. So... thanks." She glances over her shoulder. "I doubt it'll get Sawyer to get you a desk any quicker, though, if that's your angle. She's on some kind of no-grain no-sugar cleanse kick this week. I mean... Given what happened, I wouldn't be surprised if she grabbed something anyway, but I think that'll just make you the little devil on her shoulder for tempting her, y'know?"

She leans back away from the desk and stretches a little, arms behind her back and chest out. "You don't seriously think Harvey's got some kind of organization system here, do you? I mean, the rule with him is that if it doesn't fit in the folder, it ends up in a pile on his desk. Or my desk, if it's important." She lifts up a bit on the balls of her feet, like a child peeping over a tall desk, to see if that drawer is still open, but it isn't. "Lemme guess. Butterfingers, king-sized? Those things are worse than cigarettes with him."

Her movements are almost childlike. Peppily bobbing up on her feet, stretching playfully the way that she is... By intent. They're distracting. It gives Renee a chance to glance down the edge of the folder for a case number or any pagination... But not well enough. The folder's at the wrong angle. She'd have to move some to be a snoop.

A part of her wants to. Selina's holding that folder at a pretty private angle, intentionally or otherwise. That's worth attention in and of itself. And while Renée thinks it's her and Bullock's larceny file, there's no way to tell at a glance. If it isn't, then the angle gets all the more suspicious; Bullock's side of their shared desk has the seat furthest from the door, closest to the back wall. It'd mean Miss Kyle doesn't want anyone reading over her shoulder. Hell, it could mean that regardless of whose folder it is.

Thankfully, Selina has handed her a blank check.

"Here, let me copy that for you," she says, reaching out for the file. "You're not gonna get out of here before Harvey shows up if you have to navigate our old dinosaur with crutches. Besides... Damn screech-owl bureaucrats in IA want only D-2s and above using the copier. Budget complaints. They found a copy of a page in People Magazine jammed in the machine, and they think Stacy did it." She glances to one side and whispers, "It was Bivins, but you try telling them that." 

[Deleted]

Selina smiles. She knows most of the officers here as friends, not just their titles. Some are even family to her. "Renee, most of you guys are like family. And I'm here every other day, nearly. I still think they should give me something other than this little thing, with how much I'm helping you guys out." It's part joke, and part reality. Having Catwoman as an informant is quite helpful. Even if they're not aware it's Catwoman. Lifting up her 'badge' which is really little more than plastic with her name, photograph, and some other gibberish on it, she shakes her head, realizing it's getting caught in her other necklaces. She fusses with untangling them for a moment, before letting the small pendant and key on a delicate silver chain slip beneath her dress to rest against her skin.

"I know Maggie won't get me one. But no one has bitched me out too badly for sitting here. Especially when I bring you guys food. Oh! That reminds me!" She twists at the waist and reaches into her bag for her spill proof mug. "I have straight espresso with cream, if you want some. I heard about the mug incident. Which is bullshit,"[/i]she adds in a hushed voice. Maybe she just needs to get them one of those fancy Keruigs.

Offering her mug to Renee, she laughs at the comparison of her to a devil. It's not like she hasn't heard that before. Watching Renee stretch and shift, she has to admire a good-looking lady. Being laid up isn't helping her own form one bit. "Maybe when I'm done with this crap, we can hit the gym. Whatever you've been doing is making you glow." Maybe there is a special someone in her life. And she's not joking. There are a lot worse looking Detectives Theo could've wound up with. Or worse, attitude wise. But she's personally grown to cherish the woman, and her way she speaks the truth. And doesn't seem to pry like Bivins does about her personal life.

She raises a brow as the desk is brought up. Scooting to the edge of the chair, she braces herself to stand, and does so, gently tossing the file to the chair behind her. She points two to stacks. "That one is petty crimes. That one is B&E." She points to another two, stepping a bit to brace herself and not put weight on her ankle. "That one is Larceny, that his homicide. And-" She narrows her eyes and glances along the haphazard mess. "That is theme crimes, that is Fraud, and I think that one is Murder cases. Or just crap he clips out of the paper or prints from his email." She flips open a few, not shocked to see that she is right. "Oh. And Kidnapping and SVU, but I forgot about those." She smiles warmly at Renee, her left hand going to her forearm for a light squeeze. "You forget he's a southpaw. And yeah, he does that, too. There is the 'unorganized pile.'" She points to another stack of loose papers.


"Mhm. They shut him up, too. Bribes don't just work for snitches. They work on crabby Detectives. By the way, what is your vice? I'll grab some next time I'm by." Which should be tomorrow, considering she has to draw up her 'opinion' and drop it by. For that sort of thing she'll hand deliver it. Grimacing slightly, she tries to keep her face straight as she eases down to sit back in his chair.

She grabs the folder and flips through it a bit, before Renee offers to take it to the copier. "Oh shit, really? You'd do that?" She knows its a haul, and if she left her stuff at the desk, she would be sure be caught by Harvey.

Flipping it shut, she hands it over with no question. She quirks a smile, understanding workplace politics all too well. And being glad she doesn't have to indulge in them. "Oh, no doubt. He is a bit off the wall, but he knows how to cover his ass. And I'm glad I don't have that sort of bureaucratic BS at my office. Hell, Renee, if you ever want to go the PI route, I'd take you. I bet I could pay better," She teases. Leaning back in the chair she scoots it over to the computer, and taps away at the keyboard. Thankfully he's not logged in, and can use her own credentials to log on. There is an email harping her about the case she's supposed to have whatever done on for tomorrow. And a few other spam things. But she's pretty grateful for not having to hobble down to the copy-machine.

And if Renee getting back to her before Harvey catches her? She'll take the woman out to dinner herself.

[Deleted]

Bivins had posted something on his phone, added something to Reddit and was thumbing through one of his facebook accounts, laughing a bit as he said "Hey! Roni Marconi's Girlfriend just posted a pic of the new bracelet he got her! Looks a lot like the one at the Kane street robbery a week ago. Seriously!" He laughs at that and thumbs to the next picture with his off hand while he holds the order under his right arm, carefully putting it on the counter near Selina, he was just playing with the phone now, just looking at it as he says to her.

"Can you believe this? It's idiocy! I mean, don't they KNOW they're confessing when they post this stuff?" He shakes his head and looks up and then spot into Selina's cleavage looking at the necklace. "Whoa, um. . . I mean, nice necklace! Is that a handcuff key? Are you and the boss doing kinky stuff? If not then I mean, I'm open minded, I don't judge! Ya know?" He shakes his head and clears his throat tapping away at a few other things on his cellphone. E-mailing himself and then looking at the comment. "A gift from my bunny boo! Sounds like a chain of evidence. We at least got Roni on dealing with stolen goods. Let's see. . . " he texts back on the phone "Oh . . . emm . . . gee . . . Becki with an i. . . it's so amazing! Smileyface with hearts, dolla bill dolla bill. . . where he get that? So with extra O's jealous, madface, slashy jay kay, all Misspelled." He smiles as he hits the post, and pockets the phone again, "Seriously, they don't seem to get that the facebook stuff is a confession! They just . . . like to show off. They don't realize that they don't put it on lockdown. . . or that I'm using fake names and following them. Hell, I can do half my casework without leaving the office!" He grabs one of the pastries from the order and eating it. "Thanks Sexina. . . Hotpants. . . Boss's Girlfriend I like not dying!" He shakes his head and says "Yeah! Um" he goes back to his pastry and looks to see Rene making copies.

He speaks through the pastry. "Thyy grt thr crrpirrr frrxed? Shwrret!" He chews and swallows and says "I gotta make some copies when she's done anyway." He walks to one of the other desks, feels underneath it and grabs a small badge card. "Hah! Chris always leaves it! You think he'd know better!" He shakes his head and then goes back to his desk to gather some stuff together.

[Deleted]

With a hint of a blush at Selina's compliment, and a winking, teasing refusal to answer her question about a vice, Renée slips away with the file to go back to the copy machine. 

The closet-sized copier-room isn't very well lit. There's a reason for that.

There, amid discarded printers, old monitors, and one or two whole old computers that have been sitting on a dusty shelf since the Clinton administration, the copier is sandwiched into a corner behind the door. There are four recessed bulbs in the ceiling, but an iffy, broken switch powering 'em. If you flip it up juuust shy of all the way, you get bright (but flickering) soft white light. If it goes up ALL the way, though, only one of the bulbs lights up. A weak little trickle of brightness from the far end of the room is all you get while you're working the copier.

Little trick that detectives know about: occasionally, low light coming from one direction is handy. If, for example, you were to be sorting through a file and you just happened to open it up to a page with a glossy photograph that someone's just touched, you might, in the low light, notice an odd reflection off that someone's fresh fingerprint. That might just tell you what that somebody was looking at.

It was Bivins' idea. He said he'd found it on the internet. The department had been complaining about the faulty light switch for weeks; now, ever since the mayor had started bringing in more and more civcons, Sawyer's had to reject multiple maintenance crews coming in to fix it, and last-second print-scoping has become standard office procedure.

Also standard procedure under the Mayor Hill administration is running off a copy of the whole folder every time a civcon requests a xerox of anything in it. It's wasteful and contrary to the Green City initiative they were all supposed to be following, but someone in the mayor's office had decided it'd be better if their consultants served as a second, third, or fourth set of eyes on the filings.



That'd be because someone in the mayor's office didn't trust Gotham cops.

It suits Montoya well enough... The MCU doesn't trust the mayor's office. Hell, if you're in the force and you don't wear blue, you don't trust any city representative with a rank higher than "Commissioner." And that's because of Gordon. From what Renée hears, you sure as shit didn't trust the man in charge back when Loeb was running the show.

So. The whole file gets stacked neatly, bit by bit, into the scanning tray. She makes an elaborate show of bending down to swipe her ID card... Then she leans gently on the door to cover what she's doing and takes a closer look at the case with the photo Selina had been fingering.

The Lamire case. Hm.  There's nothing too odd about that one, is there? Straightforward larceny case. It's well within her purrview. If she asked Bullock for it, he'd give it to her. Hell, he'd be required to by policy. Why would she try to hide it?

The only thing that comes to Renée's mind is... Is she trying to avoid Harvey?

The pieces fit in the Modus Operandi category. She wants to leave in a hurry, she was glad to see he wasn't here... She could get it through him, but if they'd had a tiff, she certainly wouldn't want to make him do it...

All that's missing is the intent. Last she heard, the two were fine and dandy... But that was before her injury. Before the explosions.

The Joker's a hell of a homewrecker. And that's not even news. And some part of Renée wants to spit in his face by making sure he can't screw up her partner's life.

Within a gnat's crotchet, the folder is copied, stapled, double-stapled and stamped with the proper release code, and Renée is back across the room, laying it neatly on the desk in front of Selina. She doesn't even pay much mind to the computer.

"Here you go. I thiiink I kept it from clogging up again, y'know?" She gives Selina a playful little wink. Then, grabbing her chair, spinning it around and leaning her weight on it, she says, "Hey... After everything that went on... I'd really love to hit the gym with you sometime. Spend some time with you outside work like we did before, y'know?"

She spins the chair again and collapses into it. "... You okay, Selina? After what happened... Not just your leg, I mean. You."

[Deleted]

"Old present, Leo. But thanks for noticing it's a handcuff key. You notice the pendant, too? It's right about my rack," She claims offhandedly. She's listening to him, but after Renee offered to copy the entire file for her, she's focused on the computer. Considering the coffee is untouched, she pops the lid and takes a sip of it herself. The bitter yet tamed flavor makes her want a smoke. Not here. She'll start smoking, lean back in a chair that smells like him, and then before she knows it, Bivins will want her opinion on this or that, he'll stammer, she'll run into Maggie and shoot the shit for a while, head to lunch with Renee, get glared at by Theo.

She waves off the botched names, shaking her head as she picks through her email. "Don't make me start having you call me Ms. Kyle, Bivins. And it's Selina." She shakes her head, not quite catching what he's muttering through eight layers of pastry.

Sitting and scooting back in the chair, she's realizing after mere days of being laid up it's not for her. She can't run, she can't stretch she can't do a damn thing herself. And she's usually quite active. Staying off the moonlit rooftops is putting a cramp in her style, and not in the best way. Reaching to snag a pencil from his desk, she slips it down the cast, sighing in relief for a second. Renee is a doll. And dedicated.

So while she sits at the computer, going over this and that, sipping her coffee, she barely realizes the Detective has returned, the file placed atop how many other files.

"Renee, you are a lifesaver. Thank you." A few keystrokes and she's logged from his computer, turning off the screen out of habit. Turning in the chair (honestly, wheeled, swiveled chairs are a godsend to the injured) she flipped through the file herself, turning her head to glance at one of the photos before slipping it to her bag.

Smiling at the other woman, she loves their banter. She'd been scarce at the station, but for good reason. She wanted to save a bit of face after showing up in a lavender oxford as a dress. And on crutches to boot. When she mentions the gym, those green eyes light up. "I can't really do any high impact, but I've been hitting the pool, and I can do weights, if you want. No running for now, sadly." She could try the bikes, but, ugh. She feel straight up stupid on those sometimes.

"Oh, and there is a yoga class they have been allowing me to gimp around in!" She recalls. She's had to modify a few of the poses, but it's better than lying in bed feeling sorry for herself.

The next few statements warm her heart, and she nods. "I'd really like that. I wouldn't mind taking out some agression at the range. And the one you guys have is so much nicer than the one off 4th and Corddale."

Balking slightly at the follow-up query, she has to remember she's being genuinely asked a question, and not interrogated. But old habits die hard, and her eyes flick about the room before she answers. "No, not really, Renee." She's concise and to the point, a trait that is not her normal chatty self. The straight up gaze is something else, too. She's not turning away from her friend.

...but what is she supposed to say? That she's a loyal friend, and Theo wanted to keep her away? That they both fucked up, felt guilty, and still haven't talked about it? It's not exactly a topic she wants to go into extreme depth about, here, or really elsewhere. Unless she's willing to ruin another person's life with her little double life, she can't explain the whole situation.

[Deleted]

Renée absentmindedly slips her fingers through her hair, from the front, where it's gotten a bit loose, all the way to the scrunchie holding her ponytail together. Her hand lingers there. Nervousness? Discomfort? It could be that it's hard to read it; Renée herself isn't sure of what she's feeling here.

Still, best foot forward. One thing's for damn sure: she's got a caseload, and this is neither the time nor the place. Harvey'll be here any minute, and as they've discovered before, nobody, not even freaks in the interrogation room who'd blather on for hours about their motivations, feel like opening up in front of Bivins.

Selina's a friend. More than that to Bullock. This deserves time.

Renée puts her hand softly on Selina's for a moment when she admits she's not alright, and looks her in the eye, trying to be soothing and show empathy. She doesn't speak... There's nothing she can say, really, other than to let Selina know she's there and not alone. Then, she takes back her hand and, smiling, turns her voice playful to attempt to cheer her up.

"Okay, the range and the pool are one thing. I'll go for that. But lifting weights just gets you leered at by every man in the whole gym. Either they're getting their rocks off staring at you, or they're threatened 'cus you're doing it well. None of that." She clears her throat a bit and adds, "Actually, it's both, sometimes. Even worse."

She runs her hand through her hair again and says, "Listen, my shift's supposed to end at four. We could sneak down to the range here, if you want. Maybe talk a little. Interested?" Then, smiling, she says, "And we've got a printer down there if you've got a face you want up on the target."

Then, she leans back a little and says, "... Does that yoga stuff even really work? I mean... I can't really imagine that bein' all that relaxing, twisting around like that."

She checks herself at the last minute so as to avoid saying that it might be fun in bed. Yeah, let's not make her think about sex right now.

[Deleted]

The gesture alone helps, and Selina offers a smile to her friend. No words are needed.

"That's why you don't go to a gym where there are leering men. You go to my gym." Selina starts, a bit of a twinkle coming back in her eye as Renee lists both good, and bad about aspects of exercise.

"But the range? Now..if I can go in a dress, I'll go 15 minutes ago," glancing around, she still sees no sign of Bullock anywhere. And it's not even 11am yet, so she still has some time to burn.

This time she breaks into a big smile, thinking about another printer. "Naw, no faces. But we might have to separate out that talking, and shooting. I don't want to sit an yell over everything. And I won't have to spring for ammo, right?"

She pauses to sip at her coffee, relishing the bitter taste for a moment. "Range, yes. Talking, yes. And yes, that yoga stuff really works. I've been doing it along with a combination of Pilates for several years. And in the start, it's rough. But once you get around to it, you get centered, relaxed, and it's fun.

As if to illustrate she stands, first balancing on one crutch, then setting the other side as she twists her casted foot around her leg, and twists her arms together. "Eagle pose." She states calmly. Untangling herself, she looks around the area and finds an empty room. "Grab my coat for a sec, and I'll show you one other. And if that doesn't convince you it's worthwhile, I'll take you out to dinner or whatever." She smirks at the other woman, a bit of her natural joie de vive re-instilled as she crutches over to the empty room and takes her coat from Renee and slips it on the floor. She just needs something to shield her from the floor. Not really, but she's making it look nice, at least.

Using her crutch to close the door, she hopes Renee will make sure no one walks in. Knotting her skirt between her legs, she shifts so where there is enough space behind, and in front of her.

Keeling on the jacket, she is on her knees, and her forearms for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she shifts from kneeling there to kicking her legs up straight into the air in one smooth shift, into a forearm stand. Holding said position, her skirt tied between her like some sort of jumpsuit, she lets her legs drop slowly and controlled in front of her as her core holds her in a curved figure. Finding her center of balance, and controlling her breathing she now has her feet a foot above her head, and glance to Renee.

"And this is why I practice Yoga, Renee. It's relaxing, looks near impossible to do, and you can impress friends." She gently reverses the entire pose and stands, favoring her casted foot as she winks at the officer.

Picking up her jacket and snapping it, she throws it over her forearm as she reclaims both crutches. "And it's better than spin class. I always feel so stupid on those bikes. But this? Works your core, and if you get injured in something stupid, you can still do it. Not that it wasn't difficult because of the added weight on my left side, but you know. Modify your weaknesses, tweak here, there, and you've got the scorpion pose, with or without a fucked up ankle."

Motioning to the door, she's a bit antsy to get back to her things. Because just if she's left them there will raise a red flag with Theo, and she doesn't want that to happen, either. He usually has a sixth sense about her. That, or she needs to swap her perfume from Chanel no. 5 before she comes to the station.

[Deleted]

Ay, mi madre!

It's lucky  that the scorpion pose involves the head being at a low angle and facing away, because it distracts Selina from the fact that Renée's staring, wide-eyed. Skirt. Dangling. Legs. Back. Hanging. It. How. And. She doesn't manage to regain her composure before Selina takes her breath and looks up at her. To be fair, though, flummoxed, flustered staring is to be expected when someone is doing that with her body.


"Yeah, uh," she starts, trying to break the silence, "I don't think my back can bend like that. I mean, I'm pretty... solid from the waist up, you know? Like a broom handle. Whereas it seems like you've got a spine like a cat." 
Renée gains her composure in time to help Selina back into her coat. "... But I guess if you're certain I can do it, I'd go with you one of these nights."

She closes the door behind them. "Still. First thing's shooting. It may not be... relaxing or impressive or anything, but it works up a sweat in a way I can deal with. I like that kind of focus."

Then, she adds, "Or, yeah, dinner." It seems for a moment that she's about to say something else there, but it stops dead in its tracks before it can get out. Nooooo comment there. None.

Sensing Selina's worries, Renée starts to help her get her stuff together... Then she stops to put her copy of the folder into a manila envelope. She closes it and then stamps it with the date, the GCPD seal, and the "RELEASED" stamp. She hands it over to Selina.

"Hey... No matter what's going on... You aren't allowed to be a stranger. You got that? We like you too much."

[Deleted]

She made sure to untie the knot in her skirt [of all days to wear a skirt. She should've just dealt with wearing leggings or something], and making sure she looks fine, she follows Renee from the room and back to her things.

"Eh. You get to that point. And the classes are so relaxing, no joke. I've done some Vinyasa before, but when I'm not taking the classes, I just do it at home, in the sun before I start my day. Super relaxing. Pilates is too, you know." She goes to sit back in the chair for a second or two, not wanting to admit it kinda hurt to have to kick up her foot. But she's not a whiner, and understands that most of the PD here have taken bullets and still hustled, so she instead sits back in Harvey's chair for a minute.

Smirking at Renee's comment, a slow smile rolls over her mouth. "Meow." She says, half-joking. "I was a gymnast, back when I was a kid. And I danced. You sort of learn those things. And I kept it up during University." Renee is a doll to help her back into her coat, too, considering she has to lean on one crutch for balance, then the other. She takes a moment to re-tuck her necklace back under her dress, too. That is something she just doesn't wear outside for everyone to see. Meeting the woman's eyes, she nods. "I'm more than sure you'd be able to do it. I wouldn't ask you to something you'd fail at. I'm not that sort of friend, Renee."

Selina leans back in the chair, crossing her left leg over her right to look at the stupid cast. She hates it. It's cramping her style. But shooting? Now that sounds fun. "I know it's barely 11, but you want me to meet you here in a few hours? I can head home, change into something with pants, and drop off that stupid report I need for tomorrow. Two birds, one stone, you know?" And it's been a while since she's shot at something. That night at Theo's clearly doesn't count, since no bullets were discharged from the .45, or the shotgun.

"That kind of focus is what I need. And you want me to bring my own gun and ammo, or should I just use one here?" She is a bit unclear on that, but is ok with either way. Then again toting around a few boxes of 9mm and her gun may be a bit awkward.

"We could do dinner afterward. Or before. I'm good with that, too." Setting her foot back down, she smooths her skirt over her knees and watches Renee fix her paperwork into a folder. "You really have that legit for me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

Taking the folder she tucks it into her bag, and does a quick scan over the 'desk' if one can call it that, snags her coffee cup and presses the top on tight before stowing it away, too.

"We'll have to talk over dinner. There are ...too many damn ears here that I'd rather not speculate over you know what. But I agree, and you too." She offers a half smile before using her crutches to stand, and sling the strap over her shoulder before drawing Renee into a tight hug.

[Deleted]

Bivins walked from the copy room with a stack full of papers, chuckling to himself. "hehehe. . . the perfect crime! I am truly the greatest criminal mind of our time!" He quietly puts a flier up on the lost persons board, just for shits and giggles, then looks at the rest, invitations to a party at Allen's house, time, date, he smiled as he started slipping them onto the other desks. He looks at Renee and Selina for a moment, all disheveled, all hugging, all affectionate and sweet, Selina sad yet clinging close to the other woman for comfort.

"Damnit! Did I miss yoga again? God damn fuck gah!" He sighs and then halfheartedly goes back to putting invitations onto people's desks. When he's done, he goes back to his desk and starts cutting out one of the fliers. He's sad now. "I always miss yoga time." He puts a copy of Harvey's face onto the image of Lady Justice on the seal on the wall, but his heart's just not into it. 

[Deleted]

The hug is a little, um, awkward. Not for that reason! Geez, reader, you're such a pervert.

No, it's awkward because Montoya is a bit surprised by it, and so she holds back from it a little. Her arms very lightly wrap around Selina's shoulders, as if dealing with a fragile doll. Still, she presses herself into it as much as she can. Selina said the magic word. 'Friend.' For Renée, that practically makes her family. "... Alright. I trust you. Just gonna have to try."

... Okay, okay, maybe it's a little awkward because of that reason. Because of that distinct scent on her. Chanel. 

God. Recognizable in an instant, layered and complicated and unmistakable. The very heart of Renée's subconscious is driven back through time, to a breezy summer when a young girl from the barrio saved up her allowance for months so she could smell like a Doña. Eight weeks worth couldn't buy her a single drop. To Renée's nose now, it stinks of wealth, vice and decadence. She's older, wiser, bitterer now. Still, memory lingers in the uncomfortable space between her and Ms. Kyle.

She makes herself stay and breathe it. Bittersweetness stretches the moment, and Renée tries to melt herself in it.

When she lets go, she's cheerful again. "Yeah, at three. Oughta be done near enough to that. And don't worry about the toys, I'll make sure to check out enough for both of us." She tilts her head to one side. "You really think I'm going to let you get frisked by our security team? In that cast? Just to get a gun through? Yeah, I'll brave our bureaucracy for that one."

A second later, she leans over against the desk. "This time of day, Harvey always seems to come up the West staircase. If you're going to sneak out, front door'll be better. And take the handicapped elevator, he'll never use that." She gives a little wink. "Decide on dinner when you get here, yeah?"