Mutt (Gotham X Reader)

|Chapter Two|

The cool wind tugs at my coat and threatens to reveal my fluffy tail that I have safely hidden under the thick fabric. I yank it around my body and enter the precinct as quickly as I can, Jim close behind me. 

Everyone stares at us, or more likely at Jim because they don't know who I am. We saunter in like we don't have a care in the world and I smirk at them. I don't see Harvey anywhere. He's probably getting a danish or something.

I go and sit at Jim's desk as he goes into the Commissioner's office. Feeling the burn of people's gazes upon me, I growl and then slowly slide off the chair to the floor underneath the desk. I've created a comfortable den of sorts. The desk and railing provide a shield to protect me from their view. 

After about a half-hour, I start to doze off. I'm used to sleeping on the floor, so it isn't a challenge. While my eyes are closed, my ears are still open to the sounds of the precinct. Papers rustling, background chatter, and the opening and closing of doors. 

I sigh, enjoying the noise. Where I was for those two years, my ears could only feast on silence and screams. Most of the time the screams were my own. 

I hear footfalls coming through the open door as most other noises cease. They step with purpose and seemingly climb onto a table. 

"Hello everyone," a man's voice carries through the GCPD as every other sound diminishes. My wolf ears twitch at their familiarity and a shiver runs down my spine. 

I'd know that voice anywhere.

"My name...is Victor Zsasz. I'm sent here personally by Don Carmine Falcone himself on a matter of deep concern to him, so please be respectful. . . I'm here for Jim Gordon. Only him. Everyone else, mind your own business and we're cool."

After a short pause for dramatic purpose, he asks, "So, where's Jim at?"

I sneer. Even though no one says anything, I can hear their heads turning to the Commissioner's office. The tension in the room builds, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. 

"Thank you," Victor whispers, and I can imagine the smile on his face.

"HEY JIM!" He yells loudly. "Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmm," he continues when the detective doesn't appear. 

I hear the click on an opening door and see Jim's shoes walk towards me. 

"Hi Jim," again, I can just picture his wide grin, "Relax, I'm supposed to take you in alive. Don Falcone wants to talk."

"Tell Falcone we'll talk, but not today," Jim orders, sounding unfazed in the presence of Gotham's best hitman.

"Don't be that way... Alive is a very broad category. A man with no hands can still be alive."

Jim, emboldened by his badge retorts, "There are fifty cops in here, try something." 

I imagine that Victor's smile is fading now.

 "Everybody out."

When no one moves at his demand, Zsasz yells, "PLEASE!?"

Suddenly, all that can be heard is the shuffling of feet as people hastily depart from the building. I scoff silently.

"Looks like it's just me and you now." 

The tension is so thick you should slit it with a knife. It makes my fur stand up and my heart rate quicken in anticipation.

I slam my hand on the desk as I emerge from my den. Eyes are on me as I say, "Or nah. You forgot little ol' me."

"Y/n, what are you doing?" Jim hisses at me.