The Universe's Mixer

Jennifer had been very bothered by what the City had done now. With her past dealings with it, she knew something was up, but couldn't figure it out. Her cop instinct also told her that something was very wrong, but again, she couldn't wrap her mind around it. It made her a little angry. Angry at the City, angry at herself.

Then, on top of it, the murders had started again. So there'd only been one, but it was absolutely the same suspect as it had been before. There were too many similar things. There was also a lot that was different, worse. So much worse. Jennifer hadn't seen anything so gruesome in a very long time. Time had been taken. Time and care. She felt there had been much suffering. She felt it was her fault, because she'd given up the case when the trail had gotten cold. If she'd just kept at it, maybe this person, this Arkham employee, wouldn't have died.

Frustrated, Jennifer pushed the papers forward off of her desk. She didn't care where they landed, she just wanted them the hell away from her.

And she wanted to call Dean. She hadn't seen him since the change in the streets. She felt like she could use a very good tumble.