they tell you that you got to have a heart of steel

[gevurah]

WHO: MOLLY, JOHN, SHERLOCK, and BATWOMAN
WHERE: Molly's work/lab.
WHEN: let's forward date to Friday night.
WARNINGS: there be talk of a dead body in here. Also rated I for Insensitive. Sherlock.
SUMMARY: fuck doors, break into buildings for the greater good.
FORMAT: paragraph to start, I'll match after.


Harvey Dent's whereabouts had been a mystery to Kate since she had lost her trail on one of his goons weeks ago. The trail had gone cold and it made her blood boil; Harvey (and Two-Face) were good at doing that to her.

When Charlotte Dunbar, assistant district attorney, was reported dead in local media, Kate wasted no time to swoop over to the crime scene, scouring every inch of the area, hard pressed to find out what had happened and if Dent had had a hand (or two) in this. Gut feelings aren't always the most rational to go on, but if it hadn't been Dent, then that DA had worse enemies who were willing to leave her body in two pieces.

Two.

If that doesn't scream the work of Dent and/or Two-Face's work, then Kate hates to assume there's another wackjob out there with a penchant for doing things by doubles.

But plans went awry, especially after the disastrous drug bust that Phantasm had so pleasantly butted their incompetent noses in. She needed time to recover after that. However, Kate is not the type to remain stationary for long, even when it's necessary.

When the lights flicker off and the sound of footsteps have retreated, she slips into the building, clinging to the shadows and enters where the autopsy reports are filed away.

Comments

[ecphrasis]

Night shifts are her specialty. There isn't any particular reason why. Well, she's never been afraid of the dark, and she's never been afraid of corpses. That might actually have had a hand in it, though the autopsy room was always brightly lit and (though she'd probably be the only one to ever say so), nearly cheerful. Well, mostly when she had some music playing.

Though it's getting late, a half-full cup of coffee is sitting on the table beside her most recent patient as she jots down some final thoughts in the file. Molly hums to herself, compliments the woman (67, heart failure) on her rose tattoo (near her hip, already noted). There's no answer, but she likes to talk to the people that get rolled on to her slab.

Not that she would ever actually admit that to anyone. She enjoys her work, but not many other people seem to.

The file is closed up and the body stored away just a few minutes later. Molly picks up her coffee cup (serendipitously refilled and hot), and grabs the file as well as a few borrowed texts. She's on duty for another two or so hours, so she'd thought she'd catch up on some reading right after dropping off the file with the (far too many) others.

The humming resumes, and she pushes open the door and reaches for the light switch without a second thought.

[gevurah]

She hears the footsteps a second too late. She's barely made her way through the paperwork neatly filed away inside the drawer when the door clicks open and the light pours into the entire room. Kate jerks away from the cabinet; she recognizes Molly's face from the Network, but now is not the time to dwell on such things.

Kate springs forth, a hand shooting out and towards Molly's mouth to preemptively silence her before she lets out even the faintest noise to alert anyone else who may be in the building.

[ecphrasis]

Her eyes are on the floor when she enters the room, and when she looks up, all she can see is a flurry of black and red leaping towards her. The hand at her mouth is a good idea, though she struggles to scream anyway, brown eyes going wide with shock as well as a good amount of fear. And said struggle leads to three three potentially disastrous events.

Her coffee cup flies from her hand, nearly tossed as she tries to back away from the person she now realizes is wearing a mask. The books and file drop from her other arm, the former hitting the floor with a very solid thunk. And, of course, as she tries to move backwards, she steps on the now scattered papers of the autopsy report she'd just been trying to put away and is on her way to falling to the hard tile.

[deductives]

The murder of the ADA hasn't been on the top of Sherlock's priorities. When someone with many enemies gets killed, it usually isn't difficult for the police to at least manage some kind of investigation on their own.

When it remains unsolved, however, Sherlock decides a break from looking into the Phantasm might be in order. With John in tow, the first step would be to go over the body, which Molly hopefully still had on ice.

It's as quiet at the clinic as expected for this hour, so it isn't hard to suddenly hear Molly scream and the thuds that follow. Sherlock feels his heart skip-- There's only so many people who would want something with her. With that small list in mind, he quickly shoots John a look and then bolts down the hall.

[acclimatized]

John had volunteered to come along, of course. It was always a good idea to have a second opinion from someone trained in this field. Hopefully it wouldn't put a strain on their friendship like the speckled blonde case had done. Regardless, his friend needed the break from his current case and he had nothing better to do.

He doesn't need to wait for a look from Sherlock when he hears Molly scream and the loud thump that follows. He immediately jumps into action and darts down the hall, throwing the door to the laboratory open.

"Molly!"

[gevurah]

Kate rapidly pries herself from Molly. Some of the hot coffee splashes against her legs, but the suit protects her skin from feeling the sudden heat. Someone calls this woman's name from somewhere near the room and she leaps back toward the window in the back of the room. It's time to hightail it out of here, in spite of recognizing whose voice had just been heard and figuring who the extra pair of footsteps belong to.

But then the door slams open and she knows she's been spotted.

[ecphrasis]

For the most part, she's too stunned to quickly process what's happening. But one thing she knows is that she shouldn't let this person (a woman, she thinks) escape. This masked person had been looking through things, and she wants to know what for. That's why she stumbles forward, reaching out. If she can catch this person, she thinks, then someone she'll know what this is all about. Not exactly the most logical conclusion, but it's a start, considering she's just been jumped.

She's vaguely aware that someone has called her name, but it doesn't really register until she sees John in the doorway. Molly halts her forward movement, her voice incredulous. "John?" Why would John be here so late?

The case, of course. Sherlock is obviously with him--and then she sees him as well. The situation seems ten times less dangerous. He'll definitely be able to figure out who this woman is and what she'd been looking for. If she weren't still startled, she might even smile. Instead, she turns her attention back to the masked woman, ignoring the spreading coffee spill on the floor. "Who are you?" The why is fairly obvious, considering where she'd been.

[deductives]

As soon as they burst in, Sherlock's expression flashes from panic to exasperation in record time. Seeing Kate was the last things he'd expected, but at least she's preferable to the alternatives he'd feared.

"I see you've become acquainted with Batwoman, Molly." He steps deftly around the coffee spill and looks Molly over for injuries. None, except to her lackluster pride, perhaps.

"Are you alright?" he asks anyway, but turns his eyes to Kate. So much for staying out of each other's cases.