7 and a Half Years Before
  
                       The door to the precinct swung open, in walked Finch and his young intern Rachel Dawes. She was no stranger to the precinct she had been in a month or two before when Bruce Wayne went missing. She had been terribly guilty over dropping him off close to that slime-bag, Falcone’s bar. She could barely make eye contact with him; all she seemed capable of was clenching and unclenching her hands, in her lap. He had taken her statement. Her story had matched up that shortly after dropping him off, she had driven off in a hurry to take a midterm exam at the university. 
               He grabbed the pot of the stale coffee and poured himself a cup. “Flass, I’m telling you the only reason why the case is closed is because there are too many on Falcone’s payroll.” 
               “Gordon, I’m starting to worry about you man. I think you are starting to obsess over Falone, ever since you and Barbara separated.”

               He noticed that Flass noticed Ms. Dawes and Finch; he was smoothing his greasy hair and straightened the sleeves on his soiled blazer. Did Flass really think he could have a chance with a classy young woman like Ms. Dawes, he asked himself. “Gordon,” he said in a low voice. “What do you think they are doing here?”
               Gordon did everything in his power not to roll his eyes. “There is a case that Finch recently brought up against some street thug named Maroni.” He gave a shrug. “Maybe they are here to get some details for their case.” He while sitting down at his desk, he couldn’t help but notice that Flass was a bit flustered. He had never seen him like that. It was unsettling.
               “Yeah, that must be it.” Flass popped a mint into the dark cavern of his mouth.  
               He watched has Finch made his way to Loeb’s office. Ms. Dawes was right about to enter, but something was said, he couldn’t make out and the door shut in her face. Loeb was always a boorish man, even after all these years he didn’t particularly enjoy working with the man. He shuffled some papers on his desk; he wished Flass would stop hovering around, like some kind of fly. It was rather annoying and it didn’t help that he didn’t smell good. Gordon had to admit it was better than being stuck in the car with him.
              “Sergeant?” Gordon watched as Ms. Dawes made her way over to him. He stood up. He couldn’t help but notice that the green vest she brought out red highlights in her hair, and that her pencil skirt made her look taller. Her was brow was not furrowed like when they first met, a confident self-assured woman made her way over to him now. He had to admit, it made her look like she was the assistant DA not Finch. With the dedication she was giving this internship, he mused she would be going places. 
              He cleared his throat. “Yes, Ms. Dawes.” He straightened his tie. “Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked relief washed over him as he saw Flass sitting down at his own desk. 
              “Yes, I was wondering if there had been any new information,” She stopped, right beside his desk, her eyes cast to the floor. The furrow that he had gotten to know was back. He watched as she took a deep breath, “on the disappearance of Bruce Wayne.” She finished.
               “I’m sorry to say no.” He wished there was more he could tell her. “Falcone’s alibi is sticking.”
               She just shook her head; stray strand of hair fell in her face. For a moment, he saw beyond her cool, confident, exterior that she had presented upon entering the station. She looked like the young student that she was. Then with a mere tucking of the hair behind her ear, it was gone again.  
              “You will let me know if there is any new information.” From the tone of her voice, he knew it wasn’t a question.
              “Of course, Ms. Dawes as long as it doesn’t hamper the investigation.” He paused. “While you are waiting, would you like a cup of coffee?” He offered
              “Sure. That would be nice.” She smiled. 
              “If it’s one thing about Loeb, he can go on for awhile.” 
              He could hear her sigh behind him. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” He realized he could smell the subtle hint of perfume. It was pleasant; it almost took the dinginess of the station away.
              He turned and gave her one of his half smiles. “I can’t promise that it’s the best but it hasn’t killed me yet.” He watched as she genuinely smiled, wider than he had ever seen before, and a rich giggle came from her throat. 
             She gave him a look from under eyelashes. “I could say same thing about the coffee at the DA’s office.”
             Then the door opened to Loeb’s office, Finch was making his way out, Loeb’s was giving him a hardy pat on the back. Gordon watched as Finch’s squinty eyes scanned the office.
            “Ms. Dawes, we have the information we needed.” He announced, holding up a manila envelope. “We better head back to the office.”
            “Ok, boss.” She answered, looking over to him. Then she looked back at him. She gave him a weak smile, a shadow of the one before. “I think I’m going to have to give you a rain-check on the coffee, Sergeant.” 
             “Sure, that would be nice, Ms. Dawes.” He paused. “Call me, Jim.”
            “Ok. Jim.” She said as if she was testing the word out. “We’ll have to have coffee some other time. And you can call me Rachel.” With that, a mask of seriousness smoothed over her features, as she turned and made her way over to Finch at the door.