2012-12-17 Remembering The Fallen

Much of Gotham City has had their sometimes beloved, sometimes loathed police force on their minds today, for the Commissioner of our fair city has called for a parade of remembrance for those who have given the ultimate sacrifice during the Joker's recent bout of terrorism.

A cold weather system moved in during the wee hours of the morning and began dumping snow onto the ground as the morning commute rolled to life, drawing out road crews and a number of traffic accidents. However, it didn't slow down the public servants of Gotham, who worked hard to prepare the parade route and keep traffic moving throughout the day as best they could.

At 4:00 sharp, the parade began. It commenced at the northwest side of downtown, along the main avenue leading toward the west side, where Arkham Asylum lay beyond. An act of symbolism, to be sure. Hundreds of police officers, all wearing their dress blues and marching in perfect lines, commenced up the main roads of downtown, headed toward midtown and the collection of government buildings and the ultimate end of the parade route in front of City Hall. There, in Neville, the sound of bagpipes can be heard echoing off the buildings, softly muted by the snowfall and bodies of those who have gathered to see its procession come to an end. A podium has been set up in front of City Hall, and the entire area has been cleared to permit a large number of citizens to gather and watch as the parade comes to an end, where Commissioner Gordon is scheduled to deliver a short speech.

Selina, dressed in the manner of a woman in mourning, watched the parade from the point just before City Hall, the woman stoic. Her identity hidden by a hat with a gauzy veil and large, black-frammed sunglasses insure she is left alone, the woman not wanting to share her grief today.

Once everything concludes she moves, taking up Jim on his offer of a place where she can observe without the hassle of press somewhere out of the way yet close enough to see the podium. In her hands is a white hankerchief which has already seen a lot of use.

This parade has not been going "unsupervised" as it were. The Tomorrow Knight has been here since it started on the west side, and he has shadowed the parade the entire way. Terry's advanced camoflague suit, has been keeping him out of sight and silent. Now he settles in an overwatch position, waiting for the Comissioner. He takes up position on an overhang across from the podium. He carefully marks each sniper position, and takes great pains to stay out of their sight.

The city council is there of course, even if they don't want to be which several, or even most, do not. But appearances need to be maintained right? An outward show of respect and honor toward the fallen police officers is a small price to pay for their position and power. Brandon's off to one side where he can still see the podium but is out of the way. As the parade approaches City Hall, he turns from watching his father chat with some of the other council members and looks toward the marchers.

Cop's daughter. Native Gothamite. Successor to Harvey Dent. Janet van Dorn's a known name and face in the city, and as the parade begins to draw up to the end, she steps up to the podium and prepares to speak. Janet's well-wrapped against the cold and, in her heels and a warm winter coat, looks slightly less tiny. A black band has been wrapped around her upper arm, but her face is stoic and her eyes are clear and bright. Gotham girls. Tough as nails.

"We take so much for granted," she begins, resting her hands on the podium. "When we call the police, we take for granted the fact that they'll come. When we call the fire department, we know we'll see a fire engine. We take them for granted because of their dedication and their sacrifices. Today, therefore, let us remember the people who work every day of the week to keep us safe. To help us do that, please join me in welcoming Gotham City's police commissioner James Gordon -- a representative of the department and an exemplar of that dedication, that sacrifice, that sense of responsibility."

She steps away then, gesturing for Jim to take the podium.

At the front of the procession, there are rows upon rows of officers marching four at a time, carrying half-folded American flags between them in a clear representation of the fallen. Where one hand holds the edge of a flag, the other holds a rifle slung up against the shoulder, pointed toward the sky. One of them happens to be Jim Gordon, who holds the corner of a flag dedicated to a good friend and SWAT officer who had been killed at Arkham. Behind them march row upon row of police officers, represented at the edge of each row by their Lieutenants, Sergeants, and Captains by special epaulettes of gold and blue.

The procession comes to a halt in front of city hall, and with a simple command called out by one of the Precinct Captains, the police officers turn as one and face the podium. A hush has fallen over the crowd by this point, as the brevity of the sacrifice is captured by many.

The total count of folded flags comes to thirty-seven.

Releasing the corner of his flag to a relief officer, Gordon approaches the podium. Like the others, he is garbed in his dress blues, having seen to it that they be pressed perfectly, his spit-shined shoes only marred by the slush upon which they all walked. He nods his head to Janet upon walking past, then takes his position near the podium. However, for the moment he remains silent, eyes simply looking out upon the crowds gathered, the staggering number of officers present, and finally, the lines of folded flags between City Hall and the streets beyond.

As the flags are presented a few people murmur much to Sel's disappointment. While she can't make out what's being said she catches on to an undertone of displeasure over something in those whispers but the small group settles down after a few seconds, leaving her unbothered further.

Even as Jim assumes his place at the podium Janet's speech is mulled over while she fights tears but despite her best efforts a few get the better of her and are allowed to run down her cheeks.

Terry McGinnis remains silent as he watches the ritual below him. His eye lenses take a moment to magnify the podium and its speakers for a moment before he scans the crowds. Gotham police aren't the best, but they are good at securing SOME crowds...they might need some help. He looks through all the faces, the civilians, cops, and civil servants. Making sure everything is secure for the comissioner.

Brandon tugs his overcoat a bit closer about him to ward against the chill. As Gordon mounts the podium, he shifts his attention to the commissioner then reaches into an inside pocket. Pulling out a flask, he opens it and takes a swig. Glancing around at those near him, he notices some tracks of tears on a lady's face and holds out the flask in silent offer.

Janet reaches out as Jim comes up, clasping his shoulder very briefly before turning and standing a few steps behind and to the side. Her face is still and solemn. So many this time. So many gone. She's gone to every funeral, even from before she was the DA. They're brothers and uncles and cousins to her. Quite possibly, the worst part is watching Jim. Some of them were husbands and wives and some, some were so /young/... but it's why, isn't it? It's why she does this. To make those numbers diminish. To make them eventually disappear.

Following a brief smile and a nod of appreciation for Janet, Gordon speaks into the microphone. "Officer Christie Mets," he begins, amplified voice helping to project the tone that mixes bitterness with a sense of honor. "That's her flag, right over there." He lifts a hand, pointing directly toward a flag in the second row, four spots from the far right. "She was a beat cop, only on the force for seven months, but she came to Gotham because she believed in something. She believed that she could do her small part to make it a better place."

There is a long pause before the Commissioner continues. It's hard to tell if he's pausing due to emotion, or simply to honor the life that Christie Mets lived. Before long, he continues. "She did make it a better place. Alongside every single officer, firefighter, paramedic and law abiding citizen who is gathered here today. The flags you see before you represent those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in protecting our fair city from those who might seek to destroy the rule of law."

There is no paper, no prepared speech, no notes with which to guide Gordon as he begins to list of the names of those who were killed. "Lieutenant Graham Bishop, leader, Quick Response Team 1, unit B. Officer Chuck Smith, patrolman, District Four."

As the Commissioner continues, a quiet disturbance begins to form at the furthest edges of the square, beyond where the furthest of gathered citizens can be seen. Noticing it with his eyes only, Gordon refuses to miss a beat, though his eyes briefly glance toward Janet in a meaningful way.

"Sergeant Darrel Robbins, first response team, District 1..."

Terry McGinnis stands as the disturbance starts. "Knight to Cave," he says quietly into his comm. "Commish's speech is being interrupted. Looks like..." Terry takes a moment to get closer. He growls as he sees the people in question. "...Imitators. Sending images." From Terry's position he can see people dressed in what look like Batman outfits. They seems to be rabble-rousing somewhat. "Um, should I bust them or can we lock'em up for copyright infringement?" Terry makes ready to drop the cloak and make an intimidating stand.

Brandon looks over toward the source of the small disturbance, straining up a bit to try to see what's going on. When he does, he snorts and shakes his head.

When the disturbances start, Janet lifts her head and rises a bit further on her toes -- not that she can go too much further than the heels already allow. Her eyes narrow behind her spectacles and she turns slightly, taking her phone from her pocket and sending a text to the officer in charge of security today: 'Disturbances on east, west edges of square. Masked. Probably imitators. -JVD'

Soon enough, the crowd begins to murmur anew, as the disturbance begins to make itself known. From two streets to either side of the gathering, people dressed up in makeshift outfits that resemble Batman begin to appear, many of them holding home made picket signs. As they become visible, the messages on the signs all seem to point toward the same line of thought - they are in support of the masked vigilante they have come to represent.

Apparently, news of GCPD's APB to arrest all masked vigilantes has been heard, and some of Gotham's citizens are none too pleased.

In spite of this, Gordon continues listing the names of those who have fallen, whether out of stubbornness or something else is entirely unclear. However, soon enough, the protestors begin pushing their way through the crowd, many of them being a bit more forceful than would be considered polite, drawing a murmur throughout the square, along with attention from the city council members present upon the steps of City Hall.

Terry McGinnis growls as he sees the amount of protesters. He flexes his fists. This is not the time or place for this, but he can't do anything about it. He waits for the Security Officers to act, and watches very closely for any signs of violence breaking out. He readies a batarang.

The ruckus is eyed by Selina, her sadness now paired with a growing anger at how disrespectful people are being. No longer willing to stand at the sideline, she pushes her way towards the front where Janet and Jim are, trying to put a presence allong with the others. She isn't a police official nor is she a public official like Ms. van Dorn, but she is a known face - perhaps even something of a minor celbrity, locally - and might carry some weight.

Hat and glasses taken off and held in her hands, she merely stands there, a quiet, displeased figure.

Brandon takes another swig from his flask then closes it and puts it away. "So totally not the time or place." he says to no one in particular. "I mean, if /I/ can see that..." Meanwhile on the podium, Councilman King leans over to says to say to Janet "Do they have a permit for that? Send some officers out to arrest them." He's all in favor of arresting vigilantes and has no patience for illegal demonstrations against policies he's voted for.

Several uniformed officers are joining the crowds -- some in the back, making certain that more protesters aren't able to join those already in the mix, while others are moving through the people who are. They're trying to herd the protesters back to the back of the crowd. They're forming a line, a barricade of bodies between the sign-wielders and the mourners -- the mothers and fathers, the husbands and wives and children of the fallen. And though it's obvious that many of them are getting angrier by the minute, they haven't yet started wrestling signs out of anyone's hands. Key word: /yet/.

Janet's own cheeks, already flushed from the chill, are turning an impressive shade of crimson. She's not amused. Not in the slightest. But she's keeping her cool just as she was before. She glances back to the councilman and speaks softly: "Arresting them might provoke the situation further. But GCPD's aware. It's their call."

Not amused? Neither is Gordon. The tone of his voice changes ever so slightly, the stalwart with a microphone as he continues to list the names, rank, and assignment of every officer killed during the Arkham incident and beyond. One of the Batman-impersonating protestors, a man a bit too pudgy to be in the type of physical shape required of most would-be vigilantes, notices the police officers moving towards them. He's had it with that! Suddenly, he hands his sign to another person and breaks out a bullhorn, echoing the chants of the other protestors for all to hear.

"Gotham needs Batman! Gotham needs Batman!" He's shoved a couple times by people in the crowd who are angry with him and his bullhorn, but he keeps pressing onward, only to point an angry hand toward those gathered upon the steps of City Hall. "What have -you- done to protect our city!? Not enough! Gotham needs Batman! Gotham needs Batman!"

Gordon casts a momentary glance toward Janet and Selina, his thoughts echoing those of the former. However, his eyes narrow slightly when he notices Councilman King engaging the District Attorney. Turning back toward the microphone, he breaks the list to say, "I should remind everyone that while peaceful public protest is encouraged, this is neither the time nor the place..."

A roar erupts in the crowd, initiated by the Batman-impersonating protestors and quickly joined by some of the citizens who have decided to take the protestors side. Stepping away from the microphone, Gordon does his best to hide a scowl, growling under his breath for Selina, Janet, and Councilman King to hear. "Of all the disrespectful... find me Captain Phillips?"

 Jim Gordon says, "Easter egg! The supposed leading protestor is none other than THIS guy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IhpCfSslq1w&feature=share"

Every fiber of Selina's being agrees with those angry cries as she too believes that the city does indeed need the Caped Crusader to help keep crime at bay. But while her heart goes out to them she has to remain silent where that subject goes. But while she doesn't feel like she can address them she does turn and speak to Janet and Jim. "Perhaps they're right," she says while trying to impart a neutral quality to her voice. "Maybe we do need them." And while it's an opinion shared by many of the citizens of the city she knows that it is not a popular opinion with those she is speaking with.

Well the violence box is checked off. Terry growls something under his breath as he deactivates the cloak, and for a moment the black and red Future Suit is silhoutted against the gray, winter sky. He takes off and soars down to the protest, landing with a crunch on a concrete barrier next to the ringleader. He glares down at the man, and with a flex of his hand, his fingers become claws. With a deliberate move, he grabs the man by the makeshift suit and hoists him up. "Do you have a permit?" He says slowly, and loudly with his best Batman voice.

"Gordon, are you just going to stand there and wait for a riot to start?" That's Councilman King getting on the Commissioner's back. "Give your men orders to disperse the crowd and arrest anyone who resists." He's talking loud enough that his words are being broadcast by the open mike. "And if we can charge the so-called Batman with incitement to riot charges for this, all the better!" Meanwhile off the podium, Brandon facepalms as his father's words are heard by everyone. "Jesus dad, throw gasoline on the fire why don't you." And then a vigilante shows up and Councilman King POINTS! "There's one now, Gordon. Arrest him!"

"You know, I'm as up for a debate as the next lawyer," Janet mutters, shooting Selina a Look. She likes the woman well enough, but -- "Just not at a funeral parade, okay? This isn't advocacy. This is mugging for the cameras."

The anger in her is incandescent as the bullhorn comes out. As Jim speaks softly, Janet's pulling out her phone again and ringing the man, looking to a uniformed officer standing security behind her. "You. Radio the Captain," she says; he quickly obeys the order. How often do you get orders from both the Commish and the DA?

Down in the crowd... well, it's possible that this is not the best idea. Nevertheless, the officer closest to Bullhorn Batman reaches out to grab the instrument from his hand. He curses and shouts in shock as the Future-Suited vigilante grabs the guy, taking an astonished step back. All over the crowd, other officers are starting to pull signs out of protesters' hands and, if they won't be peacefully herded, less-peacefully restraining them.

Words from Selina, words from Councilman King. Gordon looks between the two of them, reserving the briefest of empathetic looks for Selina, before turning his attention upon King. "Councilman, my officers are fully prepared-" And then, a collective gasp goes out amongst the crowd when Terry makes himself shown. Gordon whips around and looks on with widened eyes, but very soon, a scowl forms, for things could get much uglier. As soon as Janet has Captain Phillips on the phone, he says to her, "Tell him to evacuate the square. And for Christ's sake, don't hurt any civilians!"

The Captains and Lieutenants bordering every row of cops present in the halted parade begin issuing orders. Those bearing flags quickly fold them up and carry the flags toward the steps of City Hall uninhibited, while the rest begin to fan out to conduct crowd control.

As for the ringleader, a normal man named Brian Douglas, he gasps and looks at the Future-Suited vigilante with a sudden shock of fear behind his fake mask. "N... No! I... we just... we just need to speak out! Peaceful protest!" The others with him have backed off in presumed fear, with only a scant few struggling with the police officers who seek to take away their signs. For the most part, fortunately, they are cooperative!

As for the crowd of gathered citizens, they are but a pin drop away from panic. Most of them have taken to looking at Batman Beyond with mixtures of shock, awe, respect, and terror.

Janet's 'Look' is good but Selina's unmoved saved for the pang of sympathy for her. "Sorry," she mouths before she whirls around, blinking when she sees what is going on. The hero is unknown to her but there's still something familiar about them. It's enough to give her pause.

Any attempt to try and get her to move is met with resistance as Selina wants to do nothing but watch, curious as to how this will play out. For better or for worse. It isn't like this is a Joker-fueled incident, after all. What does she have to fear?

"Then you will tell your people to disperse," Terry growls for all to hear, with the trademark narrowing his eyes. "Then you will turn yourself in to the authorities, and if you don't, /I/ will find you." He lets the man fall on the 'cushion' of his compatriots, making sure to smash the bullhorn 'accidentally' in the process. The Tomorrow Knight turns to look directly at Jim Gordon, his whited out eyes meeting the Comish's gaze. "I believe you left off at Officer Kyle S. Brown Jr, Commissioner Gordon," Terry says with a nod. His boots blaze and the black and red Batman streaks for the sky and disappears over the Rooftops.

Several of the councillors, King among them, stand and start leaving the podium at this point. Obviously, the ceremony is over and if violence breaks out, they don't intend to be here for it. The Commissioner will be hearing from them tomorrow though. Brandon, on the other hand, has no intention of leaving and even climbs a few of the steps leading to the podium so he can get a better look.

Janet's eyes go wide when she sees... what the /hell/ is that? Either Batman's gone in for serious upgrades or he's deploying Bat-bots. Or is this someone new? Either way, she can't fault him for the message -- even if the medium is, to her mind, somewhat lacking. Terror. There has to be a better way to maintain order.

She doesn't delay, though, and she's immediately giving Captain Phillips the Commissioner's order. When that's done, though, she's moving to Jim's side and resting a hand on his arm. Support. This isn't how this was supposed to go. When Terry meets the Commissioner's eyes, Janet tilts her head to try and look into his face -- but there's nothing there. Just darkness. No identifiable features, and no way to see what's in his eyes.

It's taking relatively few cops to draw the protesters away. They're being cooperative, which means that most of them probably aren't going to get arrested -- or, at least, the arrests won't go beyond being written up at the department and given a stern talking-to. The rest are opening ways out of the square, making a path for the frightened to escape.

Brian Douglas is caught by his compatriots, and struck by the fear put into them by the masked Terry, they immediately move to let themselves be taken away or arrested by the police. The rest of Gotham's finest prove, at least for this once, to operate as an orderly unit. There many be plenty of crooked cops left in Gotham, but many of them lost friends too, and this was not the day that any of them choose to take billy clubs to frightened and fleeing citizens.

A lucky day for the Commissioner, perhaps, and his closest friends.

Gordon conceals a scowl that should be reserved for the retreating councilmembers, then moves to meet a silent gaze with Janet first and Selina second. "Excuse me," he says, and approaches the podium once more. Halfway there, he notices Brandon, and a look of recognition comes over him. "-You- I'd like to have a word with when this is over," he says, pointing at the young man directly, before taking the mic once more.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the officers will direct those of you who wish to leave. However, the ceremony -will- continue, out of respect for the families and friends of our departed." He stands there, looking on sternly as the officers quickly begin to resume order, both by ushering those who wish t leave along, and quietly speaking with those who wish to stay. One by one, they begin to form back into the lines they had broken, and those bearing the flags slowly return to their places in line. Only then does the Commissioner resume. "Officer Kyle S. Brown Jr., patrolman, District 5."

The somber mood has been shattered thanks to the excitement but there is at least a sense of calm once Jim resumes, a bit of peace that Sel is grateful for. The Commissioner and Janet are given a quick, polite nod from her before where she was standing before is returned to, hat and sun glasses one again donned.

Brandon glances over at his father's retreating back but is more interested in the vigilante who goes flying off. Once he disappears, he turns back to watch the protestors. When Gordon speaks to him, he gives the Commissioner an ironic little half bow in assent then reaches for his flask and takes another swig.

And Janet glances briefly to that flask but says nothing. She could use a drink herself at this point. Instead, she'll just take off after this when she has the chance and take out her frustration on the targets at the shooting range. She steps back, joining the others once more as a backdrop to Jim's eulogy. Thanking the vigilante might be more than she can manage, but maybe she can at least disapprove of him a little less.

The ceremony continues until Gordon has finished listing all of the names. Each flag is summarily folded in half, then shifted to be held by the gloved hands of two officers, rather than four. The remaining flag-bearers, now free of their burdens, ready their rifles as the bagpipes begin to play again. Loaded with blanks, the rifles are raised at a forty-five degree angle, aimed just over the rooftop of City Hall.

"Readyyyyyy... FIRE!"


 * CR-CR-CR-CRACK!*

"Readyyyyyy... FIRE!"


 * CR-CR-CRA-CRACK!*

The gunshots echo throughout the blocks of Gotham a third time before the rifles are slung back over shoulders again. Gordon's voice echoes throughout the square once more as the ceremony comes to a conclusion. "Let us all remember the sacrifice made by these brave men and women, knowing that tonight, we can all feel a bit safer knowing that they have given everything to protect our friends, family, and neighbors."

A murmur resumes as the crowds begin to disperse, the uniformed police officers moving off one by one to resume crowd control while the flag-bearers once again make for City Hall. However, it is toward Brandon, Selina, and Janet that Gordon moves, releasing a long sigh as he draws near to them. "I can't believe the -stupidity- of some people!" he growls, working to keep his voice quiet as he vents his frustration with that one sentence. He briefly looks toward Brandon King, as if to remind the young man that he still wishes to have a word with him, but first addresses Selina and Janet. "What kind of fallout are we going to have from -this- escapade?"

"I do not know," comes an easy confession. "But I trust you. I know you and your people will have it in hand." Selina looks around as she shivers, the cold registering now that the excitement is over. "I need to go, Commissioner. Ms. van Dorn." Turning on a heel, the socialite leaves, soon disappearing in a sea of black.

Even were Brandon inclined to leave despite Gordon's wishes, which he's not, the opportunity to shamelessly eavesdrop is too good to pass up.

"Should be fun," Janet says in a low and weary tone. She steps closer to the Commissioner, glancing back to Selina and raising a hand in farewell. "Till next time, Ms. Kyle." Back to Jim, then: "There /wasn't/ a riot. There weren't any injuries to speak of. Your officers are even now processing the protesters whose protest turned slightly less than peaceful, and the guy in the crazy suit turned out to more or less behave himself. All things considered? Could've been worse."

"Thank you, Ms. Kyle," offers Gordon. He shares a longer look with her, for they had both been through hell recently, but not another word needs to be said. With a nod he bids her farewell, then turns his attention upon Janet.

"You're right," he remarks. "Could have been a -lot- worse." He turns an eye skyward, peering into the lightly falling snow. "But it looks like we've got another one on hand now, and I'll be damned if I can tell where -he- stands."

Finally, Gordon turns toward Brandon. He tilts his head forward slightly, fixing the younger man with a piercing look. "You're Brandon King, right?" he asks. "Councilman King's son?" A slight grin appears beneath his mustache, for he doesn't need to necessarily wait for an answer, but he does anyway, out of respect. "Listen, son, I know you don't know me from Adam, but I'd sure appreciate if you could pass a message along to that father of yours." He hates to put the young man in an awkward position, but given the shady politics surrounding the Councilman, he doesn't see much of a choice. Regardless, he waits for a moment, giving Brandon a moment to tell him to screw off if he'd like.

"Right the first time." Brandon agrees and takes another swig from his flask. "Want a hit?" he asks and offers it to Gordon. "And who doesn't know you. Dad talks about you all the time." And none of it good, no doubt. "A message?" He studies the commissioner a moment before shrugging a shoulder. "I'll listen but no guarantees. You should probably send an email though."

"He doesn't stand. He shoots into the sky like a bottle rocket, Jim," Janet replies with a slight frown. She folds her arms, drumming her fingers on one before she snaps: "That sort of tech's not common. Definitely not. Batman's is weird enough, but that's power armor. Flashy, in a Bat sort of way. I wonder if Stark's run into anyone horning in on his territory." Stark doesn't get a free pass. Not by a long way. But at least he doesn't operate in Gotham. She does turn to look at Brandon, though, and gives the flask an arched eyebrow. It doesn't seem to do much.

The offer to hit Brandon's flask is turned down with a small, dismissive gesture. "I -have- sent e-mails," answers Gordon. There were times in Gotham when the gloves had to come off, and even an honorable man had to get dirty. There is an apologetic look in Gordon's eyes, for he's about to make a play that he doesn't like to make.

"Tell him I'll have a word with him, alone, in my office. If he doesn't listen, I'll make damned sure the next time charges are brought against you, his buddies won't get you out of it." The threat is very real, but regardless, Gordon reaches out in an attempt to pat the young man on his shoulder. "Three months is a good run, kid. Keep it up."

Turning back toward van Dorn, Gordon arches an eyebrow. "You got inroads with Stark?" he asks. "If so, I might ask you to do -me- a little favor."

Brandon quirks an eyebrow at Gordon then starts to smile as he hears the proposal. As the Commissioner reaches to pat him on t he shoulder, he can't help but laugh. "Dude, that totally shot to hell your whole bad ass thing. But I'll tell him what you said." For some reason, he just keeps grinning and takes another swig. After that one, he puts the flask away.

There's worse things than what Brandon King's been caught doing. Even so. Janet lets out a slow sigh, leveling a quiet gaze on the young man. "It would make me /so/ happy not to have to talk to your lawyer again." So happy. Not just because it would mean Brandon wasn't in trouble again, but because the slick bastard gets on her nerves.

She looks back to Jim though, blinking once: "Some," she admits. "We've met, chatted a bit. I'm actually hoping he'll put in a bid for some non-lethal gear and better body armor for the boys. That what you were thinking of?"

"Not trying to be a bad-ass, son," Gordon admits. "Just playing by your father's rules." He cocks an eyebrow at Brandon, then nods his head toward the place where Brandon had put the flask away. "Open container's a misdemeanor, but we'll let this one slide, for now. You do us both a favor and deliver that message."

At that point, Gordon turns pointedly away from Brandon, beckoning for Janet to come with him. "That, and wondering if he's outfit any Bat-lovers with rocket boots lately. It would take a -lot- of pull to get a search warrant issued for Stark Tower. I'd really hate to have to dig through -that- kind of red tape. You're the one who brought it up." He gives Janet a sideways look while arching an eyebrow.

"Everyone is happy to not talk to him, Ms. Distrtict Attorney Ma'am." Brandon answers, trasferring the grin to Janet. "He's a sleazy dirt bag and has bad breath. But he knows his business." He and his father's friends on and off the force mean Brandon's record is completely clean. A marvel of sleazy lawyers and corruption. It's the Gotham way. (Say that in Sean Connery's voice.) "Nice meeting you in person, Commissioner. Good seeing you again, Ms. van Dorn." We must do this again sometime. Giving a two fingered salute, he turns and heads off.

Janet smirks faintly at Brandon. "Bad breath and a wandering eye. Next time I find it somewhere it doesn't belong, he's going to regret it."

Turning back to Jim, then: "Exactly what I was thinking," Janet replies with a quirk of a very brief smile. "His reaction when he hears will tell me everything. He's not that great an actor. Stark's the sort of guy who takes it personally when he thinks someone's cribbing from his notes."

Brandon's remark earns a double-take from Commissioner Gordon. Perhaps he'd underestimated the man? He might not have chosen the same words, but... okay, maybe he would have. Another time, perhaps. Turning back to Janet, he lifts an eyebrow and murmurs, "I'll send a cheap bottle of scotch with you, I hear he likes that sort of thing. Thanks for coming, Janet." He turns and looks back out at the square, letting off a soft sigh.

"May they rest in peace."