Who: Matt O'Malley and Luke Henry What: On patrol Where: Pre-Christmas event! When: Partners hanging out, playing 20 Questions. Warnings/Rating: Light, maybe some swearing, nothing too serious.
Late nights were far from uncommon in this line of work, even if Luke did count down the hours until his shift was done more often than not and probably called home more than he should have. Sometimes he got lucky and it was quiet, but sometimes he didn’t, and he could tell this was going to be one of those nights. He and Matt were on stakeout duty, months of recon and intel collected on one of the more questionable clubs offering the promise of some high-profile arrests if the cops played their cards right. Which, of course, all came down to timing. Too early and they’d be left empty-handed, but too late and they’d be left in much the same position, except a little worse off. There were countless problems on the streets, and they guys they were keeping an eye out for were the type who had their fingers in nearly every pot in the city; not the top guys, but no mindless guard dogs either. They were supposed to be at the club anytime in the next week or so, after dark, and they were supposed to be arranging a very much illegal trade of weapons, but the information they had was all very broad and non-specific-- hence, the stakeout.
Of course, they weren’t supposed to rush in guns blazing if tonight was the night. No, they were supposed to give the signal, call in the cavalry, and linger on the sidelines. But Luke didn’t care. His urge to rush in and play hero had diminished over time, and he was content to follow the rules and play by the book.
Well, most of the time.
He sighed, leaning back in the passenger-side seat and reaching for a cup of coffee that had probably bypassed lukewarm and gone straight to cold. From their position they could see the front of the club, and the police radio fed audio of the inside, but so far, nothing. “We should play a game,” he suggested, ninety percent humor and ten percent seriousness. “I Spy or something.”
Matt wasn't bothered when Luke's eyes were constantly on the clock, or he spent a lot of time on the phone. Other partners might have, but he knew the kid was a good cop, and he had good reasons to check in. He saw too many marriages go sour and break apart because of a cop focused on work and not at home. Matt could balance him out, if it ever came to that, and so far it hadn't caused any problems. Maybe that was one of the reasons they worked well together, and why they assigned him to Matt in the first place. He had no personal life to speak of, but he knew how to appreciate someone's need for one.
Plans were something he did well. Gathering the evidence, putting all the pieces where they needed to be, and waiting until the case was done. Ever since he was a kid, he liked seeing the big picture, the full map, and he used to have more control of it when he worked with the CIA. Now more of it was left to chance, since the LVPD couldn't cover every single base, they didn't have the wide resources either. And in some ways Matt felt like he did more good here than he ever did there.
Except in these long stretches of time when there wasn't much to do except wait and hope it panned out.
Matt drank tea instead of coffee, he went caffeine free years ago, which didn't make long nights any easier. "I Spy? Things like that are why everyone thinks you're twelve, kid." He smiled as he said it, usually to soften what he was saying, since his grumble was rarely meant to be taken seriously. "Besides, what exactly are we going to spy outside of the front of the club?" They needed to keep their eyes there. He rubbed the back of his neck, it was stiff. "I Spy the desert. It's everywhere."
A broken marriage was, admittedly, one of his fears, even though his home life affecting his job was more likely than his job affecting his home life. But he tried to balance the two, and so far it seemed to be working out alright. No one had remarked otherwise, at least, and he was pretty sure Matt wouldn’t just sit by and watch if the balance skewed too far in one direction over the other. Besides, this was way better than his old security job. Better pay, better benefits, and hell, he was actually doing something that mattered.
“Hey, I keep things young and fresh,” Luke protested, but he wasn’t upset or offended. Once he’d thought ‘kid’ was a Max thing, but most people at least a decade older fell back on that term and he didn’t mind so much anymore. He swirled his coffee around a little, like that might somehow make it warmer, and rolled his eyes at Matt’s contribution. “I Spy the desert? My five year old could do better. You could say…” He trailed off for a second, watching the club entrance. “I Spy something sparkly.” Clubs and glitter seemed to go hand in hand, for some reason.
If he needed to say something, he would, but Matt was old school. He believed in partners looking out for each other, so if anyone else remarked on it, he'd tell them to watch their mouth. And probably handle it himself quietly. The last thing the kid needed was trouble, but he was a good cop so far. No complaints. In his old job, he couldn't say that all the agents around him were good people. They were skilled and well trained and dangerous, but good? Well, that was up to interpretation. He liked the simplicity of being around cops. They meant well.
"No, you make everyone else feel old and stale," he replied dryly. They weren't able to go and refresh their drinks for awhile. They needed to get some of those cups that were known for keeping things hotter for a long time. Or a water boiler in the car. Not like that was possible. Matt chuckled and shook his head. "It's Vegas, if it's not the desert, it's sparkly." He pointed at the sign over the club that twinkled and sparkled. "Sometimes I think I could wear sunglasses at night, if I wandered down the Strip." He moved his seat back to get a little more comfortable, he was tall. "20 questions? Since we're having a sleepover, apparently."
Luke turned his head, eyebrows raised. “By ‘everyone’, do you mean you?” He tried and failed not to grin; maybe it came from being forced to grow up too fast and being shoved into situations even adults couldn’t handle, but he still clung to a sort of youthfulness that didn’t quite match up with his age. Next time, he decided, he’d go for coffee in a thermos or something. Pre-planning could do wonders. A coffee run wasn’t an option, not with something like this, and with his luck something would go down while one of them was getting fresh brew. “That should be a new ad campaign,” he remarked offhandedly, taking a sip of coffee and just managing not to grimace. “Las Vegas: desert and sparkles.” On the surface things might be glitz and glamour, but things weren’t always what they seemed.
“You’d be that guy, wearing sunglasses at night,” he laughed. “But yeah, everything is so bright. Like they’re trying to blind people or something.” He sighed, resisting the urge to check his watch (and his phone) again. His childhood sleepovers had mainly consisted of junk food and video games, not being stuck in a car with cold coffee, but he could appreciate the humor. “Sure,” he shrugged. “You want to ask the questions, or do I get the honor of going first?”
"That's right, I'm the only cop pushing fifty in the whole precinct." Matt on the other hand was accused of being born older. He was annoyingly precocious as a kid, and outside of his anger management issues (mostly contained), he avoided the trouble a lot of young men in his neighborhood got into. So mostly he just aged into how he'd been acting for decades. "How about Las Vegas: it's possible your schizophrenia comes with a key and a door." He didn't talk much about the situation they were in, and he even more rarely commented on the network itself. He was always reading anything public. The spy in him was still intrigued by something so strange, and he had his own notes and files at home, just in case.
"I've been told guys who wear sunglasses at night are cool. Isn't that what the movies have taught us? That and you can dodge bullets by running sideways." It was getting cold at night, although Vegas was never going to be anywhere near New Jersey that way. He got used to hotter atmospheres after graduation, especially with his work in the Middle East. It was just his luck desert life continued from there. "It was your idea to play a game. You go first."
“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re that old.” Luke said it in the same joking way that kids reassured their parents that they weren’t aging as quickly as they thought they were, but Matt was still a more than capable cop; age didn’t matter so much when skill played a part. “We’re an exclusive club, though,” he said of the key and the door. “Publicizing it wouldn’t really work.” He shook his head. “You know, when I was a kid I wanted to be a superhero. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Maybe Batman wasn’t technically a superhero considering the lack of superpowers, but he was close enough. It was funny, though, how after nearly two years having Bruce in his head had almost become normal. Not that he wouldn’t like him to disappear, and for all this weirdness to go right along with him, but he knew he could’ve gotten it worse. At least he tried to take his life into consideration.
He let out a long-suffering sigh, like he had so much more to learn. “No, guys who wear sunglasses at night are trying too hard. Sunglasses are cool, you know, when they’re meant to be worn. At night, and inside. Way too hard,” he advised. As for avoiding bullets by running sideways, yeah, movies did say that. He made a thoughtful sound when Matt said he could go first, like he was actually giving it serious conversation. “I’m just trying to keep us both awake, and… let’s start easy.” A smirk. “What’s your favorite color?”
"I age in dog years. Seven to each one." There were older cops for sure, veterans, and plenty of them were at higher positions. He started a little late, and he lacked ambition beyond where he was now. Matt had his fill of ambition and responsibility. If Luke wanted to go up the ranks, Matt would help him, since that was how partners worked. For him, this was good enough. He was glad that somehow they shared a door. It seemed right. Allies on either side. "I never thought about being a woman, that's for sure. Super powers, maybe. I'd take the ones she has." Flight, strength, speed, some sort of lasso. He wasn't sure about that part.
"You can get transition glasses. I'll need a pair of those soon enough." His eyesight was perfect, but everyone lost a little of it over time. "Sunglasses in the night, normal by day. I'll pretend they have technology in them." Matt was snarky by nature, and he liked bantering, especially on the job. It was in a wry way. "Feeling sleepy? A little cold will keep us up." They couldn't keep the car on all the time, and the lights were off. It'd give them away otherwise. "That's what you start with?" He chuckled. "Anything that doesn't clash with red. So a limited amount of colors." His hair stood out. "If you could live anywhere else, where would it be?"
Honestly, Luke hadn’t given all that much thought to moving up the ranks or where he’d like to be in five or so years. Sometimes he toyed with the idea of working towards detective, or getting into a specialized unit instead of patrol, but he was okay with where he was right then. He realized that he knew a lot of people in the DC door, but maybe them all being in the situation wasn’t such a bad thing. Wren, Jack, Matt; they all shared a common thread. “Being a woman isn’t so bad, not when you could’ve had a villain instead. This one guy on the other side, he’s gotten three of his Vegas side people killed, and he just keeps coming back,” he said grimly. Okay, so maybe Alex and Ian had died because of who they were rather than as a result of Crane’s presence, but the point still stood. “Imagine how much easier our jobs would be if we had superpowers. Unless the bad guys had them too,” he added. “She seems nice, though. All about the greater good and helping people. He thinks so.” He tapped the side of his head to indicate Bruce.
“Transition glasses are acceptable,” he decided, like he had the authority to rule on such matters. “They’re the best of both worlds, and no, I’m not feeling sleepy.” Even though he was. “I’m just thinking of you.” He laughed because yeah, it was a lame question, but it didn’t require much thought either. “Hey, it’s a classic question, and anything that doesn’t clash with red is a lame answer.” Matt’s question made him pause, because he needed to think about that for a few seconds. Not New York, which had once been home, or Seattle. He’d never been anywhere else but somewhere far sounded nice, out of the country. “Somewhere in Europe,” he said. “Maybe France. Or a beach somewhere.” He smiled to himself before turning to look at his partner. “If you had three wishes, what would they be?”
Okay that drew Matt's attention, his eyebrows shot up high. "He's gotten three of them killed?" He wasn't afraid of death. Like most people in his profession, he needed to have a healthy appreciation and relationship with death in order to stay sane. "I should be glad she's practically indestructible, then." He would prefer to die due to his own choices and actions, although he knew that wasn't always an option. Still. He shrugged when Luke mentioned Bruce liked her. "She's all right. She has a lot of opinions. But they're almost like partners too, where she's from." That seemed to fit in a strange way. Or Matt was trying to make something strange fit. "It'd make our jobs a helluva lot easier with super powers," he agreed.
"It's okay if you are, although if you nod off, I plan on making you pay for it." How, he wasn't sure, but it was mostly the threat that mattered. Truth was, Matt would probably let him get away with it, at least a little bit. He had a lot going on at home, and a paranoid vigilante in his head. Anyone was bound to be wrung out to dry. "You're not a ginger. You don't understand our pain." He glanced over at the answer about France and he shook his head. "The French are arrogant, but the Riviera isn't bad. Monaco or Nice." Matt was well traveled, even if most of his work to get him there was classified.
"Three wishes ...." He looked out the window again. "Well one would be for this job to be finished." That was a cop out and he knew it, but Matt tried to think through the next two for better answers. "I'd wish for the chance to do-over a few things." It'd make the blood wash off his hands easier, that was for sure. "Probably wish my ex-wife didn't hate me, so we could check out the Riviera too." And not for work, this time. "How did you and Wren meet?" He didn't know the exact story, now was as good a time as any.
“Yeah, I know.” Crane was racking up quite the body count. It didn’t seem fair that he kept coming back, rising from the ashes, but he figured that was just life. “He’s the sadistic type. That hasn’t bode well for his Vegas person so far.” Bruce threw himself into the line of fire more often than not, but at least he tried to stay alive. It was less about wanting to and more about needing to, but he tried not to read too much into that. “You got lucky,” he agreed. “Can anything even kill her? I know Superman’s vulnerable to kryptonite, but I don’t know about Wonder Woman.” Sometimes he wished Bruce wasn’t so mortal, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about that. “They were on a team or something. Where he’s from, though, he worked alone. Never wanted any help. Now he has more than he knows what to do with,” he said with a laugh. It was kind of funny, Mr. Solitary learning how to play nice with others.
He might have come close to nodding off before, but he tried not to, even if sleep wasn’t very common these days between work and the baby, especially with Christmas coming up and money being tight. He was looking at some extra work on the side, security for Christmas parties, the innocent kinds, which would mean even less sleep than usual. But he wasn’t one to complain, no matter how tired he was. “Gee, thanks. And oh, no, the unfathomable pain of gingers,” he joked, rolling his eyes. He shrugged. “Wren would like to see France, I think. The countryside. The coast might be nice too, though. Maybe one day I’ll win the lottery and I’ll find out.” It wasn’t self-deprecating, just the truth. Vacations weren’t something they’d be able to afford unless they had help, one way or another. Or until the kids were all grown up and on their own, which was so far in the future he didn’t even want to think about it.
The first wish was a cop out, but the next two weren’t. “I think we all have things we’d like to do over,” he agreed quietly. God knew he did. Ex-wives, he figured, were always a tricky topic, so he didn’t push on that just then, and the question about how he and Wren had met made him sink back a little further in his seat. “We met in Seattle when we were eighteen,” he said. He wasn’t going to go into detail about what she’d done at the time, and what he’d done. “We were friends first. It took me too long to stop being an idiot and realize how great she was, but I did, and we’ve been together ever since. She was my first serious girlfriend and, well, now we’re married.” He paused, and his next question was careful. “Why does your ex-wife hate you?”
"It's more than a little unsettling that one of them can just move their way through us, causing trouble along the way." Fatal trouble, too. "And everyone just accepts it. There hasn't been any success in research or trying to find ways to change it?" Matt knew people tried, it would be crazy of them to give up immediately, but he was still in the early stages. The stages where he didn't want to die because the Amazon decided to get into one too many fights. "I think sharing a mind with that type of person would throw anyone off." Matt, maybe less than most. The CIA trained their people well. Their minds were steel traps. Of course they weren't trained for anything like this.
Matt thought about it and almost asked her, but they spoke rarely. It was cordial, although they had a few fights. He couldn't believe he was fighting with a voice in his head. "I'm sure something can, but she's tough. I don't know if she ages, she might be immortal or something close to it." He got the sense that the Amazons were from Ancient Greece, meaning they existed a very long time. Where Diana exactly factored in, he wasn't entirely sure, but she was far from human. "A superhero team, yeah. They save the world. Crazy, right? If we're good cops, we might save lives, but whole planets?" Once he got past the initial panic about the situation, there were moments of awe and amusement.
"I'd say you could plan a vacation without winning the lottery, but it's unlikely. You've got a family, it's damn hard to pick up and leave without a small fortune saved up." Matt figured the kid probably was struggling to get by, although he didn't complain about it. The two of them were young and trying to support a kid of their own. It wasn't easy. He remembered how hard he and Cait had it in the beginning. "That's a sweet story. You should sell it to the Lifetime Channel, it'll be a TV movie, and then you can go to France." He smiled because yeah, he might be a little jaded, but he appreciated couples who made it work. His first serious girlfriend and now his wife. Luke had a good heart, anyone could see that.
The question was greeted with tension and quiet at first, but then Matt shifted his legs and sighed. "Because I didn't fight hard enough. Cait's a fighter. I figured some things are broken and that's it." He didn't think he was wrong; they were broken. He just swept up the pieces and threw them away, got it over with. "Why'd you join the force?"
Luke shrugged. “Not yet, no. Not unless you want to pack up and leave. The hotel is just there, and the journals, they come back even if you get rid of them,” he explained. “We’re all just living with it, I guess. But with people like Diana and Bruce, it’s not so bad. He’s not always the most considerate but he tries. He doesn’t actually want me hurt. I’m betting she’s the same, most hero types are.” Of course, from what he knew she put a lot of importance on the ‘greater good’, but she didn’t seem the type to sacrifice innocent people in the process.
He wasn’t sure if Wonder Woman was immortal; it’d been a while since he’d actually read a comic book. But as for a superhero world-saving team, he shared Matt’s sentiments. It was so beyond anything he could accomplish, even what Bruce had accomplished in his world, because a city was one thing, but a planet? Planets, plural? Yeah, whole new ball game. “I know. I guess they’re pretty important. Which kind of sucks for us, since they need a lot of time when trouble starts, but it is pretty cool.”
Money problems weren’t something he really wanted to get into, so he just nodded. “One day,” he sighed. Sooner or later it would get easier, he knew that; they just had to get through the rocky beginning first. As for selling his story to the Lifetime Channel, that made him laugh. “You think so? Maybe I’ll give it a shot.” He was joking, of course, but his relationship with Wren was one of his rare sources of pride and only of the only things that could always make him smile.
The part of not fighting hard enough, that reminded him of Max and Thomas, and he thought he could understand both sides at least a little. “Oh,” was all he said, since asking why he’d thought they were broken seemed a little personal. He glanced out the window to buy himself some time to think when Matt asked why he’d joined the force, but there was no action yet, and so he turned back to address the question. “I was working security before,” he said. “Not many benefits, low pay, and I was looking for something better. A friend of mine--well, more like family--suggested this and it just seemed to make sense, you know? I always wanted to make a difference, to feel like I was doing something,” he explained. “What about you?”
Matt snorted and frowned. "So leaving's the best way to go about it? I've been here a few years, I'm not being chased off by an Amazon." Also he couldn't drag himself away yet. He wanted answers, and walking out of town wasn't going to give him those. That was what bothered him the most, how people were accepting it without question. But who were they going to question? Matt sure as hell didn't know where to aim them. Luke, because he was the only person who he knew well enough to ask. That hardly was an expert. "I don't mind, but personally, I would've gone for Superman given the choice."
Matt was a little relieved that Diana was tough as nails, because it meant his life was less in peril. They could die on their side and the voices might just go to another person. But if they died in there, he died. That wasn't kosher. "Huh. We'll probably have to work out a good system where we get cover if that happens. I'd say we cover for each other, but chances are they'll both be in there together." They were on the same team. If they took turns, they could cover, but otherwise? Their jobs just became a lot more complicated. He hated complicated.
"I'd say put aside some money for something special every once and awhile, but honestly, it's best to aim that toward emergency cash or college. Kids get into trouble fast once they're able to run around." Matt was a troublemaker himself, cocky and angry, like a lot of teenage guys in his neighborhood. Some of them never outgrew it. He figured any kid of those two were going to be on the straight and narrow. "Sure, it doesn't happen much these days. People don't take it as seriously." Matt was divorced, so he was living proof things often didn't work out, but he took it seriously.
Matt didn't mind the questions too much. He had good boundaries, so he set them down when they were necessary. They divorced several years ago, plenty of time to put it in perspective. "I think she's getting remarried next year anyway, so it worked out." For her. He wasn't a good enough guy to be glad about it, but he was supportive in the way he didn't wish bad things on them. "More like family, huh? Who would this be?" He was curious about someone who knew Luke and the law force well, and would aim him this way. It was a good suggestion, but call him nosy. "In my neighborhood growing up, people had limited options. I got to a point where I could go criminal, small time business owner, or law enforcement." He was a little vague on the earlier years, on purpose. "Do you like it so far?"
There really wasn’t anybody to question when it came to the hotel, since everyone was pretty much in the same boat. On this side of the door and the other there were no real answers; how this happened, and why, were mysteries. No one waited behind the front desk of the hotel and the only people who could get in were those who had keys. Maybe, one day, it would just stop. Or maybe they’d leave before then. Either way, Luke didn’t see this situation as permanent. “Yeah, letting an Amazon run you out of town would be pretty embarrassing,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind Superman either, but oh well. Bruce hasn’t gotten me killed yet. Here’s hoping my luck lasts.” Worst case scenario there was the Lazarus Pit, which Eddie had promised to use, but he’d prefer it to not get that far. As for cover, he’d already worked that out by accepting Max’s offer to liaison for the CIA, since they’d have his back if he was out for weeks, but that didn’t mean it still wasn’t complicated. “It’s not easy,” he sighed. “Before, I went for sick. Wren called in for me. It’s… a little better now, if something happens, but it hasn’t been too bad lately. Not since some crazy guy in a mask tried to take over Gotham and Bruce fought him in the sewers.” He’d come back in one piece, for the most part, but he’d been in a lot of pain and he wasn’t keen on repeating that scenario anytime soon.
College was one of those far-off future things he hadn’t given all that much thought to yet, but the truth was that he’d have two kids to put through school eventually and that wasn’t cheap. “Yeah, we have the future to save for. That doesn’t leave much room for trips,” he shrugged. He and Wren managed, though. Maybe they couldn’t take trips to France or tropical islands but they could still make time for themselves every now and then. And, admittedly, he was proud that in a world of divorce and broken relationships, he and Wren had survived a lot to get to where they were now. It wasn’t always easy, but nothing worthwhile ever was.
“Oh.” Maybe it’d worked out for his ex, but he wasn’t so sure her remarrying made Matt feel better. Still, that was definitely a touchy subject, so he left it alone. “Max. She’s… she’s my…” For a moment Luke was left at a loss as to how to describe her, and he wished his past wasn’t so damn complicated. “My adopted father’s ex-girlfriend,” he said, finally, pulling a face. “My family is a little… convoluted.” To put it lightly. “Law enforcement seems the best choice out of those three,” he agreed. “I like it well enough. My wife, she worries, but I think that’s just part of it.” And maybe he called her a little more than he should have to reassure her, especially when he worked nights, but that was neither here nor there.
He was about to ask another question, something stupid and meaningless about television shows, but then a couple of cars roared up to the curb outside the club and Luke was immediately more alert than he’d been all night. “Hey,” he hissed, nudging Matt with his elbow as suited men, all apparently familiar with one another, exited the cars. “I think that’s them.”
"I think we've come to a truce." She tried to take him over once, not intentionally, he didn't think. She had a strong will, just like he did, and she jumped in wanting to solve a problem. Matt was very firm and pushed her back, as much as that was possible in a shared mind. She was apologetic for the first time since coming into his life, being mouthy and pushy. Since then they held their separate ground. "Crazy guy in a mask, that seems like a typical week for them." If their world was in need of saving constantly, they'd be screwed by now, not having any real superheroes. Or maybe it was the superheroes that led to supervillains and trouble like that.
"I'm sure you kids will find a way to work it out. Short trips down the coast are easy." And not as costly. California wasn't a bad trip. Not going across the country helped. They were young and just starting their family. In a few years it'd be a different story. Matt was fine with dropping the subject about his divorce. They were never some sweet couple from youth, neither of them was sweet at all. "That's ... definitely interesting. And your wife is supposed to worry. This isn't the safest job, but plenty of people get through it to retirement with no problem. The Bat is more likely to get into trouble." Which was a whole different set of problems.
Matt's eyes immediately went to the front of the club and sat up a little straighter. They had to be sure before they called in the cavalry. He checked their file notes to see if he recognized everyone, taking a few pictures subtly just to be sure. They'd have to put it through. It was a club though, sometimes people met up in groups. "I'm sending this in for confirmation." Text was helpful that way, and if any of them were recognized, it was time to get this handled.
“Truces are good,” he agreed. Not always easily reached, or kept, but things went smoother when Luke and Bruce worked together rather than when they were at odds. It had taken them a while to get to where they were now, but things were steady. For the most part, at least. Maybe Wren and Selina didn’t have it as easy but she hadn’t been too bad lately either. “She seems reasonable. It won’t be so bad.” Maybe he was in no place to make such reassurances, but he didn’t think he was that far off the mark.
The last vacation they’d taken had been to New York, but that didn’t actually count as a vacation, not in his opinion, since they’d only gone to pick up Gus. Getting away might not be so bad, he reasoned. Even just for a day or two. “Yeah, we’ll figure something out,” he shrugged. “I think my wife would worry no matter what, honesty. We’re both worriers.” Gotham just made them worry more, but it was still the truth.
He kept an eye on the front of the club while Matt snapped the pictures, and nodded when he mentioned sending them in for confirmation. About five minutes later, confirmation came, and from there it was a relatively smooth takedown; a sting operation gone right.