A trickster's trade

Who: Jakob and Sam
Where: ECPD
When: morning

He'd been expecting this, really. The ego in Jakob had been growing just as fast as the tasks he'd set himself to over the years, and while he hadn't managed to catch the firebug in the city yet, he knew he would in time. But then, Jakob wasn't even sure he'd need to as a detective, not with the talk he'd heard of his own contention for commissioner.

And frankly, Jakob still didn't know who'd put the word out there initially; he'd courted both sides of the city's battlefield for years now, and was already planning to assure them through a lying smile that their interests would be seen to when, not if, he was named as the acting commissioner of police. But first he had to finish getting the news himself.

"Of course, Mayor Thompkins," Jakob said in a pleasant voice that was intentionally low within the noise of the station house, "I look forward to the late edition of the Echo, and tomorrow as well. Do make sure to get the uniform to my tailor for adjustments. And thank you again for the news, sir," he said curtly before hanging up, reaching for his coffee from his desk. He hesitated before drinking, and for a private moment of staring at the storms raging outside? Jakob smiled like he meant it.

Sam was getting one of those stress headaches that had her left eye twitching as she walked into the station room, the arson files in hand. The storm was a lot less audible inside and she came up to the desks she shared with Jakob and dropped her stacks. "Drake fire's connected to the others. War has been stalled at least for today," she said as a greeting and she caught his smile. Jakob? Did not smile like that and that made the tension headache throb a little more. "What's up?"

"It's me," Jakob answered evenly, going with his own genuine little rush of triumph fueling his expression. "I... I had a few contacts I spoke with, to see who might be backing me for commissioner? They came back saying no one, as far as they could see. And I just spoke with the mayor." He sat back with a little sigh of incredulity, deliberate in the slip of his hand that sloshed coffee from his cup onto his shirt and drew a laugh. "And now this. It's me. Tomorrow."

Well. "Wow," Sam said and the tension headache was temporarily on hold as she took in the fact that her partner had been made commissioner. She sat down at her desk and grabbed him some napkins she had in her drawer so he could mop up. "I feel like I should be more surprised but I'm not." It was true. Jakob was a decorated Senior Detective. He had a great list of closed cases. He was a Hero. "I'm not hugging you. You're covered with coffee. But congratulations, Hollis. Don't fuck it up." She grinned brilliantly at him and toasted him with her own lukewarm cup of coffee. "I suppose this means I should buy you lunch."

Laughing slightly as he took the napkins and started blotting his shirt down, Jakob's lips pursed thin as he considered her for what must have been nearing the thousandth time since they'd been partnered. He never stopped evaluating someone, wondering if he could inject a little chaos. But he never had, Sam had been useful, her company and intelligence didn't insult him like most of his fellow officers. She'd even inspired his little game with the boy from Chinatown. He was going to miss her, somewhat. "Make it a drink," he suggested, "Unless it's early for you. We can go over the fires again, one more time."

"With this headache?" she asked, pointing to her twitching eye. "It can't be soon enough." She was kind of relieved that he was going to go over the fires with her again. Sam was pretty sure she had it down (enough that she put herself on the line to assure the Families that it wasn't an attack) but another set of eyes wouldn't go amiss, that was for sure.

"Should I drive, detective? You look like you had a long night," Jakob said with a warm grin, sitting up and digging through the top files on his desk in search of his own notes on the arsons. "I'd hate to have your conduct report land on my desk tomorrow," he joked with a tentative smirk, letting himself have that little joke for now. He'd celebrate properly soon enough. "And where are we heading, exactly?"

Sam nodded a little as she did a scan of her desk to make sure all her notes were in order. "Wherever you want. You're driving after all. Although as commissioner, shouldn't you be a shining example of conduct for the masses?" she joked back. "Wouldn't do to have our new guy in charge making a spectacle of himself."

Pursing his lips thin for a drawn-out stare at Sam, Jakob caught himself chuckling softly as he moved to pluck his coat free from a peg. "The Round it is, to follow up on leads of course," he said decisively, "At this hour? Even the masses of our dear city won't be flocking to the bars." And even if there were people around? Cops, at least, could generally get by inside One More Round. "And I suppose I'm only acting commissioner until the next election cycle," he conceded as he breezed out of the station with Sam. "But just the same, I am not acting commissioner until tomorrow, so let there be spectacle."

She'd been told for years to stay away from the bar, considering her family, but Sam didn't say anything about it. "Well, the weather is so nice outside, I'm sure everyone's enjoying it," she grinned back at him, the hood of her overcoat not doing much to protect against the storm but she did what she could to manage. "Do you think you'll run officially or do you think you'll be run out of the office?"

"I couldn't rightly say so soon," Jakob answered, twirling the keys for his car around a finger and moving for the driver's door. "It would depend on how well I conduct myself during this trial period, of course, but if I do not fare well? I have my job with Homicide, though it will be strange to go back to working without a partner." he mused as he climbed into the car. Not that he'd be back; Jakob knew he could leverage both syndicates into playing along well enough that by election season he'd be an obvious choice. And he'd get to see Sam entirely at his leisure if the odd, sentimental mood struck him. The commissioner set the schedules, after all.

Oh yeah, that's right. Sam got into the passenger's side, relieved to be out of the terrible weather although the rain was still loud on the roof of the car. "Back to bouncing between people who don't like me, how fun," she said dryly. It suddenly hit her that they wouldn't be partners anymore. There would be no 'you owe me lunch/I owe you lunch', no buying two cups of coffee or him treating her as an equal and not some stupid woman.

Pulling away from the curb, Jakob was quiet for a moment as he waited for his wipers to actually let him see their course. "Not necessarily," he eventually offered. "Sam, I'm going to be in charge of the entire force. I intended to award recognition where it had gone unnoticed no matter what, and my short list is made up of officers you may find agreeable. McKinnon, for one." He figured they'd work well together, and Danny was easier to ply as needed than Sam; he wore his emotions on his sleeve. "And you'll be in a position to help me direct resources as needed, if you were willing. I know I am a sharp man, but this? This is too much for me alone."

Danny? Well, he certainly wasn't as bad as some of the others in the department and he had taken a bullet for her. Still, Officer McSurly? That would be interesting. At the last part she smiled over at him winningly. "Awww, you trust my judgment," she cooed with a laugh. "You mean like... covert help you run the show or something?"

"Give me honest appraisals of what's happening out here," Jakob clarified, his head nodding slightly to the streets around them as he drove. The neighborhoods were slipping with the class divisions of the city, that was for sure. Seamlessly they passed by the businesses near the station, and within a few blocks the streets were already rougher. "Corrupt or no, I doubt our prior commissioner had much understanding of the day-to-day troubles we held back. I expect a... a buffer, I suppose, of yes-men and self-interested management. So I'll read their reports, but you tell me what's really happening out here."

"So your informant?" she asked, still grinning. He was right. The city had been thrown into a mess under the careless eyes of corrupt commissioners. "I can do that." She could. The city could finally start becoming a place that people could walk down the streets and not fear that they wouldn't make it home. It could be a good place to live.

Jakob chuckled dryly as he swung a lazy corner, nodding in satisfaction. "My informant, yes, sans fear of mob reprieval," he confirmed before parking along a curb close to the Round. "I know we'll never stop what happens in this city, but I only think it fair to make those we don't catch earn their freedom." It could definitely be one hell of a game, and he might not even have to play any side but his own. "But of course," Jakob said as he popped open his door, "I'll never make you hit anything too close to home." Which was probably a lie, and he still wondered who Sam might pick if forced to choose: the law or her family. But it sounded sincere as he climbed out of the car with a scowl at the weather.

Sam flicked up her jacket a bit to cover her head as she grabbed the door to the Round and they hurried inside. The bar was fairly sparse which wasn't all that unsurprising given the weather. "Just doing our job then, when it comes down to it."

"Yes, but hopefully with stronger results," Jakob agreed, stepping in with Sam and lingering to let his eyes adjust to the dimness. It didn't take long before he got a good look at the odd handful of occupants inside the bar, deeming none of them a concern and moving for an open booth intently. "Conrad!" he called at the barkeep, "Two scotches and two beers, if you please." Obviously Jakob had been here enough for some degree of familiarity to exist, and he grinned a bit as he settled into the booth. "Yes, they know me here," he admitted to Sam before she could ask, "The owner is amenable to certain favors I've needed in the past."

Sam was eying the bar a little wary. It was ingrained in her that she just not step foot into the Round. Wasn't familial territory. But she wasn't here as a member of her family. She was here as a cop. Not a whole lot better, but enough that she was starting to relax some. But when he said owner, her eyes flicked up to his curiously. "Really?"

Sitting back in the booth relaxedly, Jakob nodded a touch as he considered the last time he'd been in here. He'd made things official for Eris, had helped to bring down the commissioner, and now? Well, tomorrow really, he'd take the man's job and oversee the entire force. "Really," he answered after a moment, "Twenty dollars buys you an hour of privacy after they close at night, with each hour beyond becoming pricier. So when I need to meet a contact who wishes to stay hidden? I rent a meeting spot that I know is safe from scrutiny."

Sam didn't give any indication that she found what he said to be odd. It seemed odd to her though, that Jakob would use what Sam considered to be a mob hangout for a place of private discussion. However she ignored it in light of the fact that it sounded like Jakob was giving her directions. Directions on how maybe she should use this place. "Not the dark office of an abandoned warehouse I imagined, but at least it has style," Sam smirked. "Is there a password I should know? It can't be any fun if there isn't a password."

"Look around us, Tyler," Jakob insisted with a dry smile, nodding at the rundown, dreary bar around them. When daylight came in through the front window? It was obvious just how much of a pit the Round really was. "No, there is no password. Simply invest a bit of time here on a regular basis, tip well, and don't comment on the cleanliness of the glasses," he advised, "That set me back a bit. And when they start serving you without you needing to order? Ask to speak with Conrad." Really, most anyone who worked here would do it for the right price, but Jakob didn't mind giving Sam a specific name to work from.

"Then I guess I should hope that McKinnon's wife doesn't mind me dragging him to the bar for after work drinks." Sam took a look around again, squinting a little in the dim light. Despite the torrential downpour, turn out wasn't so bad. And while nothing looked too threatening, Sam wasn't entirely keen on spending time there alone. Not at first anyway. "How well at tipping are we talking?"

Jakob didn't dare answer that until the drinks arrived and were set down, smiling curtly at the harried server. "I paid dollar for dollar five nights in a week before I tried asking," he explained, "But that was also in my patrolman's days, it may be more expensive these days." Not that he'd needed an official safe meeting spot back then, but Jakob had prepared himself for each transition before he achieved it. Case in point.

Raising his scotch in a toast to Sam, he grinned past the edge of his glass at her, leaning on the tabletop. "I know you'll do well at this, Tyler," Jakob praised with his glass up, "I'm pleased that you were assigned to me." he'd given her an honest shot without holding gender against her, and sometimes that was more rare than it should be.

The praise got a real smile out of her and not the smirk and she lifted her own glass to clink against his. "I'm glad I was assigned to you too. I couldn't think of anyone better." Jakob had done a lot for her, more than she could've asked anyone for and he'd never failed her. He treated her like an equal and taught her a lot about being a good detective. "Just don't let this promotion get to your head. I'll consider it my duty to deflate your head if it comes to that," she warned.

"Eyes on the prize, I promise," Jakob said with a warm grin, tilting his glass back for a long swallow. It was the truth, just not any kind of prize Sam might think he meant. "And you know I'll always be available if you need to see me, of course." The more honest he could be, the better this would all seem in the near future. "But until tomorrow, I do believe our prize is still someone in this city with a penchant for flames," he went on eventually, chasing his scotch with beer. "Let's start again with the locales and times, try to establish a pattern of movement." He would miss this inside, but thankfully for Jakob, his promotion seemed to promise endless distractions. It was a fair enough trade.