[in progress/closed]

[sfigato_quarto]

Who: Sam Vimes stony_faced and Ulquiorra Schiffer sfigato_quarto AND LATER Motoko Kusanagi deuxesmachina
What: Ulquiorra goes to get groceries for himself and Kairi, only to run into the AMC sergeant who's been after him.
When: Monday, December 8th, afternoon.
Where: Some market in Monacello territory by Ulquiorra's apartment.

Comments

[stonyfaced]

Vimes grunted as his leg jerked to the side, smarting in pain. Luckily, he knew pressure points well enough to know that he wasn't injured, just... hurting. Which wasn't very consoling, but good enough. He started as Ulquiorra faced the open alley, but for whatever reason, the guy didn't run. Ulquiorra was too cocksure by half, but not foolish, Vimes felt--discard the stupid copper and make a run for it, right?

Wrong. Vimes felt rage bubble up inside of him with the knowledge that this was a Monacello, a man who had killed coppers, a man who had killed civilians, a man who had killed people who didn't know any better and just wanted to get through life. And nobody touched Vimes' men. Still, he had had his encounter with the Beast before, and he knew to hold it in, to wait. Wait until he needed it. Wait until he faced the goddamn leader of this. Ulquiorra was just a grunt

[stonyfaced]

"Antibiotics?" He eyed them suspiciously. He didn't know much about that, not being in the know about most things chemical besides which ones made people explode and which ones made people talk. Which were, unsurprisingly, usually one and the same

[deuxesmachina]

"Yeah, so you don't get something nasty in that wound," she eyed it. She was still perplexed by it. Schiffer didn't seem particularly armed. He actually didn't look dangerous at all, but she knew better. "Alright, but they'll probably give you some later."

She smirked again. He was certainly a character, that was for sure. "Well, you will probably have to write up a report down the road. Especially if you want to charge him with resisting arrest or the like."

In a few minutes, Motoko was shutting off the car at AMC HQ, and jumping out of the car. She passed by Vimes' door, opening it up. "You need help out?" She figured he could handle himself as long as she carried Schiffer into the building.

[stonyfaced]

"Once we get there's fine," Vimes said, with a jaw cracking yawn that surprised even himself. He didn't even know that jaws could crack. He looked vaguely startled for a moment before settling down again

[deuxesmachina]

"Suit yourself," Motoko said, finally. She was just trying to help. She needed Vimes to stay with her on this case. He couldn't be done for the count. They had to finish this

[stonyfaced]

Vimes grinned briefly at Motoko's offer, "That'll work, thanks," he said gratefully. After getting a hand shoved into his shoulder, he figured that he had earned the right to not, you know, deal with the Inspector. It was sort of funny, he thought, that he used to be so resistant to his superiors, and now he was a superior. Funny, but not that funny

[deuxesmachina]

Motoko smirked back. She had gotten the drift. She would deal with this for him, since he seemed to be dealing with enough crap at the moment. She did that kind of thing for the people she trusted in the work place. Anyone working with or for her would always get the best treatment. She would even defend them from the highest powers in the land. That was just how she was

Sorry for the wait! Busy weekend.

[stonyfaced]

Vimes stomped into the room, a limp visible but not obvious in his gait, and his arm more obviously lying stiffly at his side. Although Ulquiorra wasn't even looking at him, Vimes glowered at him anyways.

He wasn't a bad copper. He knew that he couldn't simply bash the kid's head into the wall, as tempting as the opportunity was. A coil of smoke escaped his mouth as he finished off his cigarette and crushed the butt beneath the heel of his boot before reaching down and tossing it into the garbage.

Even the way he sat was full of ominous dominance, feet placed squarely on the floor, eyes faced straight ahead and his mouth in a grim line. "Has he been Mirandized yet, Sergeant?" He asked, still not looking at her. It wasn't a slight against her. He just needed to make sure that Schiffer knew that this wasn't some damn game of the AMC.

He had seen too many mobsters fumble away with loophole and false claims in court, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let that happen again. Oh no. They were going to do this by the

Me too, no biggie!~

[deuxesmachina]

Motoko turned to follow him with her eyes as he walked into the room. He looked a little better than how she had left him. She hoped it hadn't been a bad idea to call him in to work after all of his injuries. But he was tough. Motoko wasn;t going to insult him by telling him he shouldn't do his job. They were similar. She wouldn't let anything stop her from doing her job. She figured he felt the same

[stonyfaced]

"Good," Vimes said grimly. "Thank you, Sergeant

[deuxesmachina]

"Sergeant Kusanagi," she corrected, kindly. She wasn't exactly sensitive about people calling her by her first name, she just wasn't used to it so much

[stonyfaced]

He blinked at her at the mention of her last name. "Right," he corrected himself. "Kusanagi." Damn Japanese names. Their first names sounded like last name and their last names sounded like last names, and for the love of God, Vimes had a hell of a time trying to read them out loud when they were on the paper. It took him about five times outside of the room to get 'Ulquiorra' right, although that didn't sound Japanese, it just sounded funny.

"No answer?" Vimes snapped. "All right, all right... let's try this one out. Do you deny having any links to the Monacello family, or any other mafia affiliations? Or to be anyone affiliated with explosions, etcetera, etcetera?"

Silence was an easy game to play. Not for the last time, he wished that he was allowed to simply whack him one every time he refused to speak.

[deuxesmachina]

Motoko just smirked at this, chuckling to herself a little. It amused her, no matter what.

Motoko riffled through her papers. "Your mother's maiden name is Monacello," she noted. "Ulquiorra Monacello Schiffer. It's a mouthful...yet kind of catchy." Had they just turned into good cop bad cop? Ugh. She sighed. "Rose to your family calling lately?"

She watched him carefully. He didn't look like this was helping at all either. The kid was like a rock.

Ulquiorra sat back in his chair, a shadow of smugness washing over his pale face. "Do you like beating suspects in the head, sir," he asked, deadpan, only the depths of his eyes dancing with mocking, the rest of his face an emotionless mask.

[stonyfaced]

Vimes glanced at Motoko's attempt at being halfway civil to the boy who obviously didn't respond to anything. "That didn't quite answer the question," he said, mildly, "and the answer to your presumed question is no, I do not, otherwise I'm sure I would no longer be a copper." There was a glint of amusement apparent in his eyes.

"There shall be no beating of heads tonight, Mr. Schiffer. And since I have answered your question, I am hoping that you'll do us a favour and answer one of our many questions."

Vimes glanced towards Motoko, and back at the man. "One of them is what exactly do you know about the nature of the bombings that had taken place? Come on, lad, surely you can answer one of them."

His tone and words were friendly, but his eyes were not, hooded by heavy brows and eyes that were not distinguished enough to be called piercing, but quite intimidating nevertheless.

[sfigato_quarto]

Ulquiorra smirked slightly at Vimes' response. "You certainly seemed quite skilled in it for someone who does not often partake in such a thing," the man's tone was again completely flat.

Ulquiorra wanted nothing more than to come across the table at Vimes and snap his neck with his bare hands. But not with the woman sitting next to him and that tape running. But he was going to do it. He could wait. No one shot him in the wound that Grimmjow had given him. No one. The wound was a symbol of his weakness, now more than ever. It made him remember. It made him remember things that he had fought so hard the past few months to forget. Now he couldn't as long as his leg was injured

[stonyfaced]

"It's a defensive maneuver that policemen often used when they find themselves in a situation where they're being attacked," Vimes replied sharply, face impenetrable. There was a reason people called him Stoneface