First Day (rp thread for work_with_it)

[take_mychances]

It was early - sooner than she needed to be at work, but it was her first day on the job. True, she was still working at the same place, but it was different. She wasn't an intern any more - a mere gofer. She was an aide to the Mayor with an actual salary and everything. Dalia wanted to start her day off right

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[work_with_it]

The Gordons (especially the ones named "James") had a decorated history of being in law enforcement. His father had been a first grade detective before retiring, and his grandfather had been the commissioner. It was a legacy that James Gordon was proud of. ...However, he also was very, very worried that he couldn't live up to that legacy.

I want a cigarette. The thought annoyed him, and the patch on his arm under his uniform itched. Why had he promised Mom he'd give up smoking? Couldn't he have just gotten her a nice bracelet or something for her birthday?

A shout caught his attention mid-way through walking his beat. He hurried down the street and looked around the corner in time to see the purse snatcher take off... and to see the girl take off after him. Shit. Did she have some kind of a death wish? He took off after the two. Faster than going to get the car, he figured. It wouldn't do any good, he knew, but he still shouted to the man. "Stop! Police!"

[take_mychances]

Dalia heard the officer's voice as she gained on the mugger, but what he said didn't really register. She didn't know if the thief was armed--it was doubtful, the way he'd just grabbed and ran, instead of pulling a knife or gun--and with the adrenaline pumping through her body, she didn't care, nor was she really thinking about the consequences. As she got within reach, Dalia lunged at the man.

"OOF!" She fell as he did, kneeing him in the back as they went down.

[work_with_it]

Definitely suicidal.

James kept running even after the girl tackled the would-be thief. His primary goal was no longer to apprehend the man. Now, he had to pull the girl away from him before she got herself seriously hurt. Didn't she know what Gotham criminals were capable of? She had to be new in town.

He stopped when he reached her, leaning down to try and take her arm. "Miss, stand back." He tried to keep his voice polite but firm, appreciative of the valuables that had been taken from her but worried about the consequences. He tried... but he wasn't too good at all this just yet.

[take_mychances]

Now she heard exactly what he was saying, but didn't get up. Instead, she kneed the man a couple more times, the rush of chasing him getting the best of her. The thief grunted and squirmed beneath her, trying to scramble to his feet. He was a bit taller than her, but with a wiry build.

[work_with_it]

"Ma'am!" Now he was trying to pull her off the man. She'd crossed the line, far as he was concerned, of protecting her belongings. Now she was getting into assault, and he really didn't want to file charges against a girl trying to get back her purse brought by the person who'd taken it in the first place. "You're going to have to stop now!"

[take_mychances]

Dalia let herself be picked up from the ground, stood upright, but not without getting a couple of angry kicks in before her feet were planted firmly on the ground. There was a bit of a snarl on her face as she looked down at the mugger, who'd since let go of her purse.

[work_with_it]

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" James said, putting himself between the girl and the mugger. He looked at the man, "Get the hell up." The officer didn't wait for the man to comply, reaching down to drag him up, reciting the Miranda rights as he did so, cuffing the man's hands behind his back. He looked at the girl, "Come with me. I'll take your information down at the car." If Blakely was in the car with coffee... Well, James felt he shouldn't be held responsible if his weapon discharged at his partner.

[take_mychances]

"What's wrong with me?" Dalia grabbed her purse from the ground. "I was just trying to get to work on time."

[work_with_it]

"I just need your information," James said, already walking back the way he'd came, pushing the guy in front of him a few times to keep him moving. He wasn't going to mention possibly needing it if the guy pressed charges. No reason to give him ideas. Plus he'd need her information to press charges against the mugger anyway. "Just come on. I'll write fast."

[take_mychances]

"Great," Dalia sighed. She took her phone from her purse and began sending a text to someone in the office to let them know she was going to be late.

[work_with_it]

When he reached the car, James all but shoved the cuffed man into his partner-- who'd just returned with a donut in hand. The younger man turned to Dalia, retrieving his pad and pencil.

"Name and address?"

[take_mychances]

"Dalia--D-A-L-I-A. Last name Dent." She crossed her arms and rattled off her address.

[work_with_it]

"Dent?" He didn't mean to repeat it, but he did. Well, it wasn't that uncommon a name, he guessed. "You can stop by the station within twenty-four hours to file charges. We can hold him until then."

[take_mychances]

"Yes, Dent." She'd gotten the pauses, the questions before. "Great," she muttered. "Good old GCPD." It was hard to tell what exactly she meant by that. "And what was your name, Officer?"

[work_with_it]

"Oh. Sorry." He put his pen away. "James Gordon." He'd say it was nice to meet her, but the circumstances really didn't call for that.

[take_mychances]

"Every other cop I grew up hearing about was named James Gordon," she said in a slightly teasing tone. He didn't need to know just yet that she really was from that Dent family, but he couldn't deny his heritage. His name and profession left him unable to do that.