Log: Bishop and Jake

[x-bishop.livejournal.com]

Bishop and Jake meet over drinks in Bishop's office.

Bishop had been a cop, Jake knew--surely someone had told him at some point, but it didn't really matter; Bishop looked and moved like a cop. Which had been enough to make Jake avoid him when possible, out of habit. He hadn't heard anything bad about the man, and logically, he knew that Remy and Pete never would have let him near Snow Valley
if he weren't trustworthy, but habits like that were hard to break.

However, cops--and former cops--were good sources of information, the kind of sources that Jake didn't readily have at his disposal anymore. He knocked on the edge of the door frame to Bishop's office. "Hey, got a minute?"

"Sure. Have a seat." Bishop glanced up from the files he had been buried in to see it was Jake. He closed the file to be polite, giving the man his full attention. "What's going on?" The other man had been at Snow Valley for quite a while and hadn't just dropped into Bishop's office. Jake definitely needed something.

Jake flopped in one of the chairs across from him. "Are you able to look up outstanding warrants?" he asked without preamble. "I don't have the contacts I used to--part of the collateral damage from losing my last job," he said, his lips quirking into a humorless smile.

After reaching up to turn on his computer's monitor, Bishop made a couple key strokes. "Do you have the warrant number or are you looking to see if a person has any?" He never seemed to mind doing favors for people. It was a currency in law enforcement and it was what brought people together. Doing a favor for someone on the first meeting was always a good impression.

"I want to see if someone has any," he replied, leaning forwards. "Cammie--Carmilla Black. Although, to make things interesting, there are times she was fingerprinted but gave a different name. I don't know what effect, if any, that'll have."

"They'll just line up aliases." Bishop punched up the information. "Why don't the mansion higher ups just have her do community service? She got these charges as a juvenile. She could have these expunged and be free and clear in a few months." He said it very casually, like everyone should know that.

Jake shrugged. "Believe it or not, I think that's actually the plan--she's starting to figure out what she wants to do next. Step one is to figure out which parts of her past she has to deal with and which ones she can walk away from." He craned his neck, trying to see the screen. "Is there anything that can be paid off?"

"She should save the money. Schools can organize community service. She'll just need a teacher to do the forms." Bishop didn't think there was any reason to pay for something a friend could pencil whip for her. "I'd even do the forms for her if she wanted or you could. We're a charity organization."

Jake blinked at that, settling back in his chair. "I'm not used to doing things the legit way," he said. "Weird. Who figures out how much community service she needs to do? For that matter, what counts as community service?"

"A judge will decide all that. She'll have to turn herself in at the jail, bond out, and get a court date. It'll just take a couple hours to go through booking." Bishop knew that was the hardest part for most people. If she wanted her charges cleared, that would have to happen and he knew she'd done it before because she had been printed.

"Hmm," was the noncommittal reply. Jake frowned. "Does that leave her with a record?"

"Until she pays to have it expunged. Then it's a sealed juvenile record and that's the end of it." Why Cammie would not care about her record for so long and then suddenly want everything perfect was beyond Bishop but also not his business.

"Not bad," Jake decided, and really, it wasn't, even if he was more used to throwing money at problems to make them go away. It's not like he had to do the community service, after all. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "So which comes first--the forms or the judge?"

"Booking and the judge." Bishop scribbled down the location of the county jail. "Go there first and she'll get charged, bond out, then just wait for the court date and the appointed lawyer. She doesn't really need anyone special to handle this."

Jake nodded, taking the offered paper and standing. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem." Bishop offered a smile to Jake before opening the file on his desk again.

Jake hesitated for a second; despite living and working in the same place for a few months now, he and Bishop had never really talked. And while this wasn't exactly a legit job, it couldn't hurt to have legit connections now and again. "Can I buy you a beer?"

Bishop stopped, closed his file, and laughed a little. "I don't really do beer." He pulled open a desk drawer and produced a bottle of Makers and two tumblers. He poured them both a drink. It wouldn't hurt to have another contact. He slid a glass to Jake. "I hope you like bourbon."

The shapeshifter dropped back down into the chair he'd just been sitting in with a grin. "I don't trust people who don't like bourbon. It's a sign of poor taste, poor breeding or both." He raised his glass in a half-salute. "Cheers."

The former cop raised his glass back and took a drink. "So, what is your specialty? I've found just about everyone here has one particular area of expertise."

Jake smirked; it was a somewhat loaded question for him. "Up until very recently, I was a courier. I don't know if that counts as a specialty, though." He took a sip of whiskey. "Unless you were asking more about my mutation?"

"I meant the job. I don't think my mutation had much to do with being hired, other than against the right mutants I'm very powerful and they're nearly useless." Bishop took another drink. "But then again, against others they're very powerful and I'm nearly useless."

He got a nod in reply. "My mutation's a little hard to separate from the job sometimes. I forget that's not always true of everyone." He indicated the other man with a tilt of his head. "What about you? Do they consider 'former cop' a specialty around here?"

"I'm the only local. Everyone else was federal or beyond. It's useful to have someone around who knows people and how they do things." Bishop poured himself another glass, looking at Jake to see if he wanted one. "What is your mutation?"

In reply, Jake slid the glass back across the desk, his fingers slowly elongating as they pushed it in front of him. "Shapeshifter," he said, letting go of the glass once the change in his fingers was obvious. "A little different from Morgan, although the end result is the same. She's a little more specific about who she looks like, though." The hand returned to normal, and he shrugged. "I'm fun at parties."

"And big with the women I'm sure." Bishop poured another glass for Jake. "We've picked up an abundance of people who could be super spies lately." It was just a musing to himself. Maybe he could stop going on missions where he had to act like some spoiled client and instead get back to more detective and cop work.

"Only if they ask," Jake smirked into his glass as he took a sip. "Considering who started this place, there are a lot more people who aren't your stereotypical super spy hanging around than I might have expected." He glanced up at Bishop. "Yourself, for one."

"Emma recruited me because they needed a local here." As far as Bishop was concerned, that explained the reason he was employed at Snow Valley. He was the first (and probably still only) mutant to be on NYPD and he had contacts that a person can only luck into. It was what made him irreplaceable.

That earned him a raised eyebrow and a tilt of Jake's head; Bishop didn't seem like Emma's type. Of course, Emma was very good at being unpredictable. "Did you know her, or did she just know of you?"

"We crossed paths a few times." Bishop didn't think it was necessary to elaborate any more than that. "She pulled me on as her employee, I think. Got me in the door." He shrugged and looked at Jake more directly. "How did you get on here? Temp agency?" He said the last jokingly, of course.

Jake smiled at that, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Remy forcibly recruited me to do Intel with him and Betsy at the mansion a few years ago, and after I left, I stayed in touch. I found myself looking for a job a few months ago, so..." He spread his hands. "Here I am." It was a gross oversimplification of things, but any more than that just got...complicated.

"Forcible recruitment seems pretty common for this job." Emma pulled Bishop in and that could have been considered less than entirely voluntary. "I imagine you'll be around for a while then. It is a pretty decent job, as far as being a mutant and doing the shady anti-hero thing goes."

"Yeah, it's not bad," Jake said absently. "Good company, at least, and none of that running around in leathers business." He finished his whiskey and stood. "But if I want to keep it, I should probably finish a few things up. Thanks for the drink."