Gotham Style w/Pepperoni [Bull/Jim/Leo/Charlotte/Babs/Selina

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Waiting for the girls to get out she's keeping a close eye on both of them. Not because of trust issues, but more due to the growing motherly instincts she's finding that plague her from time to time. No matter that Barbara is of legal age, it doesn't seem to apply to age. So she lets them walk ahead and nods to the clerk at the front desk before they head to the main bullpen, as she nods and waves to the still lingering officers. It's growing near to 8, and she can hear the trio of voices animatedly going over a case in one of the conference rooms. She's sure Renee is around somewhere, but a cursory glance shows her desk to be 'end of the day, gone home' tidy. Curious.

Dropping her jacket off at Bullock's desk as she is wont to do, Selina ushers the two girls near the conference room. She still has a bit of time before the pizza is delivered, so why not?

Bypassing the girls who are looking at something else, Selina goes to lean in the doorway, a quick glance showing they're still working on the Mendoza case. Hm. She'd thought they'd have it cracked by now. Harvey is there, jacket off, suspenders bared as him and Gordon are going over something, and of course Bivins is craned over his cellphone, probably on Reddit. One of these days she'll find the time to figure out what he's looking at all the time.

"Boys, thought you'd like to spend a bit of time with family, and food?" She calls quietly in to the room. Yelling has had bad repercussions before, and she doesn't exactly feel like having several guns trained on her. "Pizza is on it's way, and I have the girls with, too."

[No specific post order. Everyone post until we get all players in, then we go from there!]

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There isn't even a trace of enthusiasm in Charlotte's manner as she gets out of the car and heads into the station. She's here for the pizza. That's it, or else she'd have attempted to convince Selina to just let her go home after the tutoring session. This place and the people who work in it are nowhere near her favorite things, and the only thing that makes it bearable to her is the knowledge that she's not done anything recently that would get them all upset at her. So this time they have absolutely no reason to hassle her at all. That still isn't enough to make her enjoy being around any cops - that Selina is friends with them doesn't matter much to her.

Fortunately for Selina, she's not currently in the mood to express that opinion too overtly. She simply doesn't appear to be too interested in her surroundings or the people, hanging back and allowing Selina to take the lead when they get inside - not even being as perverse about it as she could be. Instead she's going to try to make the most of it. Though she's sure that she'll have to talk to a cop at some point this evening, so it's more of a question of whether or not the pizza will still be worth it.

As Selina greets the cops, she hangs back and pretends that the crap on the walls is actually interesting.

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"I don't think I need to tell you the importance behind the Mendoza case. It's politically sensitive, there's going to be some press around it unless we play this careful, especially with the whole Ghost Killing being so closely connected to the Mayor's Daughter. Once it gets out that the mayor's housekeeper was found dead in the garden. . . there's gonna be a press frenzy of biblical proportions." Photos on the wall of a dead body, splayed and naked, cut open from the repetition of stab wounds. This was a crime of passion, of desperation, shocking in its intensity, although not abnormal for Gotham. 

"In addition to the political considerations, there's a mother that won't be coming home to her children. . . speaking of which, children." He looks at Charlotte coming into the room, and then Selina coming in with Pizza. He smiles as he says "And food. . .everyone take a break. We'll get back to this in a bit. . . not too long, though, people. We've got a case to solve. . . 62 hours left, people." 

The first 72 hours were crucial, after that . . . might as well leave it to the Bat. 

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Harvey was standing with his back to Gordon looking closely at the awful, graphic photos. Harvey's seen far too many dead people in his life. It took a lot for him to be urged to puke these days, but if Harvey was compelled to puke then you knew it was something really bad.

He turned back to Gordon every now and then to show he was listening and focused. He made a few notes in that tiny little notebook he always kept somewhere on his person, usually in the breast pocket of his coat. At the mention of children and food Harvey turned to see Selina in the girls toting in pizza. He flipped the perp board over, concealing the dead lady pictures allover. He was sure his colleagues as well as the girls would not really care to eat and look at case stuff.

"BIVINS! BRING THE SIRACHA IN HERE ON YOUR WAY BACK!"

Harvey loved siracha and/or tabasco on his pizza. His coat was on the back of a chair nearby. he took his hat off as the ladies entered and fished for the bottle of tabasco in his coat nearby.

He whistled as the girls entered.

"Hey, hey, hey! Did you get one with anchovies?"

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"Why you gotta wound me like that, boss?" He had no trouble eating in the face of these sorts of pictures, Bivins was a veteran of the 4chan generation, and he liked to hang out with the Paramedics sometimes and exchange pictures over the buffet. It was demented and sad, but social. Bivins, despite everything, actually could be somewhat social, and it was surprising where he stuck his nose. He supposedly had a roleplay group with some of the geekier set of paramedics, firefighters and nurses, a strange demented underground of civil servants who gathered together in gritty apartments to be dwarves for the sake of being dwarves. . . although Bivins has been pushing for an Unknown Armies game for some time. 

But that's not what he was talking about now, "As if I'm ever without the cock sauce!" He pulls a small metal box from his bag, setting it on the table, flipping back the lid and revealing several small bottles of hot sauces and condiments. Bivins is nothing if not prepared for lunch, one never knew when a dollop of hot sauce would be necessary to make inedible sludge suddenly ambrosia. . . and Bivins didn't like to be caught unprepared. 

Some might call him the Batman of Condiments. . . but no one actually did. Because that would be stupid. Seriously, who would call anyone that? 

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Slipping in slightly earlier than the other two women, Babs mananged to eavesdrop on the tail end her father’s discussion in regards to the Mayor’s recent stream of disasters. Of course, she can’t help but comment and ask a few questions herself. “Did you say the Mayor’s house keeper was found dead? Which one?" She smirked. "But, I mean- could you blame her? If I worked for the Hill’s I would probably off myself too.” She smirked to herself, knowing that despite the disapproving looks she was sure to get from her comment, some of them were sure to silently agree with her. However, she took a mental note toward the death. The Hill family was secretive after the recent scandals that the family had surprisingly outlasted.

Babs made her rounds, giving hugs and kisses to those that had been classified as her family as long as she could remember. Other than the newer additions to the team, the young redhead had shared a good relationship with everyone in the room. “No Bull, because they are gross.” She teased, sticking her tongue out in his direction and pulling a disgusted face. Quickly composing herself and disregarding the childish behavior the moment her eyes found Bivin’s, she sent him a brief smile before averting her eyes somewhere else.

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It was never a dull moment whenever she crossed the GCPD threshold. As she listened to the chatter, and the brief fill in on the case they were working on, she had a brief, small moment of hesitation about the girls seeing the photos. She herself had seen the gruesome scenes more often than not, but then again, the girls were of a different sort. Charlotte, even as moody as she was, and as skeptical of the police as ever, hung back. Barbara on the other hand, had sauntered in ahead of them, questions firing. No doubt Charlotte had experienced worse in her years on the street, and Barbara, well, was Gordon's daughter. Selina expected the questions.

So after her phone vibrated, she went to the door of the station to pick up the pizzas, and pay, before walking back in and sliding the large boxes to the table. It wasn't long before she had gathered plates, napkins and flatware as well.

Going over to Charlotte, she whispered a code into her ear, and listed off several soda brands. She's figured out a code years ago to get the thing to drop cans without having to pay, and no one had been the wiser.

"Food. And I should introduce folks, no? Charlotte, this is Jim Gordon, Theo Bullock you know, the boy scout over there is Leo Bivins, and of course, Babs and myself." With a wink and a smile to the trio of men she knew quite well, she flipped open one of the several boxes and took a large slice of pizza, moving out of the way to allow others to get what they wished as she grabbed a chair around the several tables pushed together.

"So no luck on the Hill case, so far? I'm just going to ask that, then we can cease the shop talk. And yes, that one has anchovies." Her nose wrinkled slightly, but she had to admit the tiny fish did compliment the pizza in a remarkable way she'd never had guessed.

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It doesn't really matter what the cops are talking about or looking at when they enter - Charlotte doesn't really care to pay much attention to either. In fact she doesn't start to properly pay attention to anyone until Selina starts to make introductions. In an attempt to be somewhat polite, she walks over to stand near Selina and nods to each name given. At least until Selina goes on to introduce Babs and herself, which prompts an unamused roll of her eyes. "Hi," she says to everyone in general and nobody in particular.

Yeah, she doesn't particularly care to be that social right now - she's here for the pizza. But she prefers to let everyone else tackle it first so that she doesn't have to pick out her slice in a crowd - there's plenty to go around so she'll wait until the initial rush is over. Instead she stands there and waits, looking somewhat uncomfortable as she lets her eyes drift around the room in attempted curiosity. She's been to a police station before, on more than one occasion, actually, but not usually in an area like this. It still seems more normal to her to just see the front and, well, the back.