2010-05-29: Looking For The Same





Date: May 29th, 2010


Unless you're looking for Sam; he's out. On the phone.

"Looking For The Same"

NYPD Bullpen

A visitor to the NYPD bullpen; perhaps that's what the plastic-covered tab reads as the blonde woman adjusts it over the fold of her suit jacket collar. A pale blue, the ensemble does more to brighten her appearance than the strict cut of it might otherwise suggest. Her hair pulled into a businesslike and yet somewhat lazy bun, it leaves just enough breathing room for a few strands to fall enticingly around her face. Professional, yet open. It's an image she includes in her stance, her precise stroll towards her goal but with a wandering gaze for the rest of the station. When she bends to ask someone where a certain desk is, she does so with a smile. But, getting there and finding the end of the line devoid of a certain Sam Wright as the nameplate on his desk might suggest, Jocelyn Danvers presses her lips around a gently forming frown. Figures.

Easy to bounce from the brief — what, disappointment? — she turns around a few paces and finds herself walking instead to the corner of the room dedicated to pinned up facts and computer screens full of info on the current caseload relating to warring gangs in New York City. Not really a big board the public would really be invited to study, she seems at home with the facts, going even so far as to approach and tug a certain article from the wall for closer examination.

"Detective Wright isn't in," says a soft voice, suddenly, to the visitor's right. It belongs to the woman strolling toward the board of facts, her hands half-tucked into her black jeans. If it weren't for the badge hooked over her belt and the shoulder holster strapped over her t-shirt — a primary blue v-neck, billowing away, slightly, from the shape of her body — her position at the station might be a little difficult to ascertain.

The days have not ceased to be busy for Detective Powers, and it shows. Blonde hair falls in strands around her face, too, but it's entirely unintentional, from a ponytail that looks like it's been redone five too many times in today's heat. The information spread around this corner of the bullpen is very familiar, as she was responsible for putting some of it up; Maggie looks to it — almost protectively — as she comes to a stop before she smiles to the stranger, brows lifting. "Can … I help you with something instead?"

On heels that bolster her already not-diminished height, Jocelyn turns to address the approaching detective, glancing somewhat but not relinquishing the piece of information in her hand. She fans it slightly at herself as she completes the turn to offer a hand — a hand that twists the ID she's wearing at her collar before being held out to Maggie. "ADA Danvers," she introduces herself, "I… should've guessed not all of you would be," is admitted with a glance for Sam's unoccupied desk, "I suppose I've gotten too used to assuming all cops have no lives outside their jobs." It isn't spoken as an insult, but remains a strange and forward way to give information.

Rather than hand over the case property, the attorney steps forward to slide the paper into the spot where she found it, lingering fingers on words before she draws away. "The detective and I were going to… discuss the latest developments," said as she girlishly tucks away some of that flattering framing hair. "He's been very dogged in making sure I'm kept up-to-date."

"You're the DA," Maggie replies with a forwardness of her own, in not unpleasant surprise; she just hadn't realized, and now she does. Though her eyes watch every one of Jocelyn's movements (especially where case property is concerned), and though her smile is tired, it still manages to beam. It only twitches after a long moment of study following the proclaimed ADA's mentions of her business with Sam. Maggie's head tilts in a curious fashion and she becomes even more watchful — which is saying something. "Up-to-date," she repeats her act of repeating Jocelyn back. Apparently, Sam has not been so dogged on keeping her up-to-date. She takes the initiative to step forward, right hand emerging from her pocket to extend out. "Detective Maggie Powers," she introduces. "Detective Wright is … my … partner. Temporarily. And I've been here longer than he has." There's no rancor in the statement; it's just that. A statement. She still smiles.

"You've probably been here longer than I have, too," Jocelyn graciously admits when she takes that hand, mirrors Maggie's own smile with one of her own. "I've been out of the country working pro-bono. I admit I had… reserved feelings about coming back to all this." The loose gesture is for the information lined up — a lot more than what was lined up just weeks before, but still with holes here and there. "You've been doing your jobs here, though, detective. I asked Detective Wright to get me more evidence and… well. I think we finally might have a footing to stand on if this keeps up." She glances sideways, from evidence to detective, silently gauging, prodding — asking without wanting to ask. In a brief moment as this is considered, her graceful features darken, her eyes dropping mournfully away from Maggie as she clears her throat to hide the hesitation and bustles into another arc to face some other portion of posted clips. It's actually subtle enough — but Maggie's rather watchful, after all.

After the firm grip of a handshake, the detective's freed hand eases to her side. "There could be more," she says of the information, optimistic of voice despite the words themselves being rather cynical. "We're working on some more leads." That's all Maggie says, yet she stays where she is: her head, messy hair and all, remains canted to the right as, without pause, she continues to take Jocelyn in. Her and her questions without questioning.

"There started with less," the attorney counters, as easy-going as the woman she's exchanging the words with. "And… I may have given Detective Wright a bit of a hard time about it in the beginning." Jocelyn tries on a smile, one that would be natural on her face, but she thinks herself back into that thoughtful look. It's still there when she decides to regard Maggie again. "In my… experience, information like this doesn't come easy. So, you know, again — thanks for all your hard work, Detective Powers." That wry way with which she speaks about badges returns, carrying with it the weight of some opinion that's now become too generalized to only stay with the person who made her first form it. In that same breath, her tone lifts slightly in recital, "Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more."

The detective's brows quirk upward, after a moment, and she pegs Ms. Danvers with an odd little look. "That was a quote," she points out, stating what's already somewhat obvious. "I suppose you're welcome, but we're just doing our jobs." Half-gracious, half-modest with just enough room for dismissive in-between. Thanks for hard work she'd be doing regardless of the District Attorney isn't something she strives for. "If you're looking for an update, though— " A glance is sent around the station, as if searching for someone; someone who isn't there, which leads the detective to continue. "Well, I'm thankful we have this much, but I'm hoping to see a better break in the case soon with this Irish group. Then you'll get your update."

"Hm?" Obvious, but catching Jocelyn off-guard anyway, as she replays her last comment in her head with an absent gaze. "Yes, I suppose it was. Something I heard on… Oprah, I think." She gives herself a chiding laugh for this reveal. "The funny little habits we pick up, huh?" In the way, the two women are representatives of offices likely never quite seeing the other right; one picking up where the other leaves off. It'd be easy to blame an ADA for not doing enough with the evidence got… or vice versa the cop in getting it. So the attorney only tips an a allowing head for the mention of future updates. "I'm looking for a case-maker. But until then, I do appreciate the updates. Maybe we'll get Detective Wright back to duty by then." She flashes a little smile, adjusts her bun, and then steps around Maggie away from the evidence board.

Maggie's mouth winds upward at the very corner around 'funny habits', and she seems, for a second, like she's going to make some comment; she doesn't. "Well, it sounds to me like we're looking for the same things." Except, perhaps, for… "Sam— " Otherwise known as Detective Wright; sometimes she forgets, with him. And, typically, no one else. " —is on duty," she corrects lightly as she turns in place, following the DA's trek around her. Her perpetually curious stare narrows despite herself. "He's just out."

"Ahh," Jocelyn accepts, though generally unmoved as to the specifics of Wright's absence, "Well, you can tell your partner — temporary, did you say? — that he just missed me." From her front pocket, she pulls out an antique pocket-watch kept in immaculate and working order; it's front is popped open, time checked. "I've got a hearing I should be prepping for if there's nothing going on here," for her, at least.

"Nothing but working, towards that case-break of ours," Maggie replies — just a touch defiantly. "And I will," she adds more idly idly, turning herself toward the board without quite taking her eyes off the departing DA and her pretty timepiece until she calls out, "It was good to put a face with your title, Ms. Danvers." And a face to a name. A vaguely familiar name, she thinks, in retrospect; but then, why wouldn't the District Attorney's name be familiar. "Nice watch." With that, the detective focuses on the facts that happen to be around her, articles and notes and photos. A hand moves to her hip, the other to touch the article that drew Jocelyn's attention, more of a thoughtful gesture than anything to adjust it.

The article in question is just a piece of the rest of the puzzle; an early one, even, it's the first behavioral thoughts on the perpetrator who sent so many skulls into the river. Face to that name turns, pausing before her righteous charge from the building to rub a thoughtful thumb along the watch in a similar manner as when caught quoting. "Yeah," Jocelyn says distractedly, a ghost of a smile appearing before she slips timepiece into place in pocket. "As it happens, came from the same place as the funny habit… the world works in mysterious ways. Uhh — good to meet you too, Detective. Take care." And she hefts up a little purse to retrieve her phone and is dialing as she walks to the door.

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