Bullets & Brandy

Gordon Rumsfield Detective “Rules and responsibilities: these are the ties that bind us. We do what we do, because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves. I will do what I have to do. And I will do what I must.”.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Staying In Shape || Brigita & Gordon

[brigita-roman]

"Oh?" There was a fleeting moment of anxiety, that she was speaking not only to an officer, but the son of the Chief. She had friends who were surely on their watch list, and she herself was on the wrong end of the virgin-whore dichotomy in an all too literal way. "A family tradition, then. I’m sure you’ll be following suit in not too long." And then a flash of melancholy — she should have stayed at home with her own father, but it was too late now. Far too late.

"No? Perhaps Hopeful would work?" She laughed, nodding at the introduction, arm winding through his in order to rest her fingers on his arm like a bird on a branch. It was only at the hint of an accent that she turned with gusto. "Your caah?” She repeated with his affected tone, laughter shortly following. Her repetition was spot on, but imitation was easy for her after years of learning to hide her Irish intonation by covering it with her learned American pitch. “Why, Detective Rumsfield, wherever is that exotic accent from?”

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon couldn't help but scoff at what she said, smiling good naturedly. "I can tell you haven't met my old man, otherwise you'd know that that old dinosaur isn't gonna let himself be replaced for many years to come." He laughed, trying to push the spotlight off of himself. He could feel the back of his neck heating up the way it did whenever he was embarrassed. 

"Hopeful Brigita." He mused thoughtfully, "It's nicer, but I don't think that quite suits you either. Then again, I'm no poet, I don't think I could quite do ya justice." Flirting was second nature to Gordon, to the point that he didn't even notice when he did it anymore. His intentions to the woman on his arm were completely honorable, but he found himself grinning wolfishly down at her as she teased him. 

"Well, miss, that would be the born and bred Boston man you hear." He explained with a smirk. They approached his shiny black coupe and he pulled the door open for her. "My family moved to Montford when I was twelve but I spent most of my summers back home with my ma's family."

[clintasha-rennerson-original]

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Staying In Shape || Brigita & Gordon

[brigita-roman]

Her face softened, lines - if there were any on her twenty-years-young features - disappeared into smooth, if not slightly weather-worn, flesh. He was kind to be more concerned with the health and safety than the percentage of hooligans he drug into the Montford Station. It made her cheeks grow rosy with the small reminder of human decency - which this town seemed to be bereft of at times. Her reply of a chuckle was small, but genuine.

"I can’t imagine it’s every officer that concerns himself with the safety of those he chases. I think that’s admirable." She smiled in reassurance, which quickly blossomed into a louder laugh. "I think there’s a great many people in this town that could benefit from strong words, rather than a stronger hand." Brigita could honestly believe that to be true - but she couldn’t anticipate anyone stepping out from the infinite circle of violence first.

His offer surprised her, jovial countenance pausing for a moment. Generally a man offering a ride was passing her money under the dashboard for her illicit services. But this man had no way of knowing - it was odd, someone offering a favor free of charge. “Well…” Her eyes cast downwards, suddenly demure. “I suppose if you can’t trust an officer, you can’t trust a soul. And it is mighty nippy…” Her thinking face melted as she convinced herself to accept his offer. “Oh, you’re a real lifesaver, thank you! I’m real grateful — I’m also Brigita, but I suppose you could call me either of those.” She chuckled to solidify her jest, holding her hands behind her back.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

"Well," He replied, scratching at the back of his head, humbled by what she said. "I have a lot to live up to, I guess." Clearing his throat he looked back up at her with a smirk, "My old man is the Chief of Police and he didn't get there by beating on troublemakers." No, for the majority of Gordon's childhood, he felt his father had taken far better to the hoodlums that he'd helped turn around than his own son. He had a better understanding of it now, but there was still touch of bitterness at the thought.

"I agree to a point, but sometimes a strong hand is the only thing that will send a message." Gordon sighed, shaking his head sadly. As much as he disliked it, sometimes people needed to be made an example of.

"I don't think Grateful would do you justice, Brigita." Gordon grinned, "Detective Gordon Rumsfield, at your service ma'am." He held his arm out for her to take and gestured down the block a way. "My car is just a short walk from here." He explained, his Boston years turning the word 'car' into 'caah'. 

[pete-rizzoli]

Close Call || Pete & Gordon

[pete-rizzoli]

The laugh that escaped Pete was inevitable. Gordon’s joking had pushed aside any of the negative feelings that he’d had about the snow that had almost landed on him. “You should know by now that you ought to be prepared for a good dance at all moments in time.” 

He smiled, and touched his hair slightly before playing along, “I paid a good deal of money to make sure these curls came out perfectly, I can’t go around messing all of that up.” 

With a nod, “Didn’t I just get off work? I feel like I just got off work.”

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

"If that whacky wiggle that you do is what you consider a 'good dance' then I'm afraid for the women of Montford." Gordon replied with a laugh. Rizzoli was an easy man to get along with, good for a laugh though how he'd made detective Gordon would never quite understand. He was eager, that was for sure, and that made him likable enough.

"Don't let Clarence hear you talkin' about it, I think he's jealous of ya what with that widows peak he's sportin'." Clarence and Dickey had so often been the butt of Gordon's jokes before he'd made it to detective, it was a hard habit to break even if the other man was his partner now.

"That's the cycle, ain't it? No rest for the wicked."

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Caffeinate Me || Gordon & Clarence

[clarence-hoover]

He just shook his head, thinking of them having to resort to the measures that the NYPD had had to do in order to control its citizens even before Prohibition went into effect. “I would say that I’d hardly believe that the people of Montford could be nearly as bloodthirsty as the gangs of New York, but considering recent events, that would make me a fool.” He took another swig of his coffee, draining its contents but not feeling any more steeled for their upcoming shift at the station.

"I would say that, for the time being, it’s in our best interest to stay in their good graces, no matter how frustrating they might be. So long as they think they’re running the show and that we’re on their side, the more likely they’ll be to keep us in the loop. I don’t like the idea of rolling over for them any more than you do, but it might be our only chance of saving people from what’s to come." He set down his empty cup along with a few coins to pay for both of their tabs as well as a tip for the waitress.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon nodded his thanks to his partner as he paid for their coffee, and finished off his own, ignoring the burn as he drank it too fast. These days it seemed caffeine had replaced his blood, so it wasn't exactly something he was unfamiliar with.

"You're right," He sighed tiredly, "Of course you're right. It's just nuts. Y'know, we didn't go and fight for them, just to have them come in and stampede us with this regulatory bullshit." He huffed, his breath misting out in front of him as they exited the shop. "But I don't know if playing keen is gonna get them to keep us in the loop. These guys are...they don't have anything in common with us aside their version of the letter of the law. There's no reason for them to give us any sort of heads up. Actually, it's easier for them if they don't. They steamroll their rules, and leave us to clean up the mess." He sighed, already wondering if Lillian had put on a pot of coffee back at the station.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Staying In Shape || Brigita & Gordon

[brigita-roman]

There was something not unlike a flinch as he turned towards her; just the barest tightening of her muscles beneath several layers of cloth. Police in General we’re very capable of making her nervous. And he’d sounded harsh immediately after the chase, but the rougher layer seemed to peel off as he took his instrument, and Brigita relaxed.

"You’re welcome." She gave an honest, closed-lipped smile, hand returning to tighten the stole around her shoulders. Her gaze flicked over him curiously - men in law always interested her, namely for the stories they must have. Good and bad. "No, nothing too unbearable, I’ve got sturdier balance than these gams might lead you to believe." A laugh, paired with the soft shake of her head. "I was more concerned with whether or not you were going to slip on a patch of ice."

As he sighed, he looked as though there was a heaviness on his shoulders. She blinked curiously. “Just doing your job, I’m sure.” She attempted to finish for him, drawing the coat tighter round her once more. Brigita laughed in answer to his smile, slightly nuzzling her chin into her collar. “My Ma would’a advocated you line up these youngins for a spanking at her own hand. But I suppose your alternative is probably much more professional.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

"These days, that's probably for the best. This weather is whacky!" Gordon replied with a smile, "To be honest that's why I gave in. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was all too keen on fallin' on my rear in front of all these people, but I'd have been a guilty sonofa-" He stopped himself and shook his head. "I woulda felt bad if the kid had hurt himself runnin' away from me." He admitted with a shrug. He slipped his flashlight back into place and stuck his hands in his coat pockets to stave off the chill.

"Ah, they just need a talkin' to. I wasn't that much better at that age, but I figure maybe if someone had come after me with more of a sympathetic ear and less of a belt loop, I'd have cleaned up my act a whole lot sooner." He smirked and noticed how chilled she looked. "Excuse me if this seems forward, miss, but you look like you're freezin'. If you want, I can give you a ride to where ever it is you're headin'. It's the least I can do. These darn things cost a bundle." He said, gesturing beneath his coat at the flashlight. 

[pete-rizzoli]

Close Call || Pete & Gordon

Pete had just finished getting ready for work, and he’d set aside the paper, looking out of the window, and noticing that the day appeared as nice as people had been predicting. All of the previous snow would be melting throughout the day. Finishing his drink, he set the cup in the sink, and then headed out of the door. The temperature outside was warmer than it had been, and as he looked up toward the sky, he had just enough time to notice a huge chunk of snow falling from the roof of his home.

Without any other option, Pete jumped out of the way with a curse, and as he did, he slammed into another person. Quickly grabbing hold of the other person, his eyes went from the spot the snow pile had landed, and the person he had run into. “I’m really sorry about that. Almost didn’t see that snow coming.”

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon had worked the late shift last night and was finally heading home after nearly being forced out by his father quietly implying that he would call his mother. It wasn't like he was a grown man or anything; but it didn't matter how old he was, the threat of a person's mother ought to put the fear of God in you. 

Stifling a yawn, Gordon didn't see the thick black curls till they were practically shoved up his nose. 

"Ugh, what is this, ya wanna dance Petey? I'm sorry to say I left my good shoes at home." He chuckled tiredly, steadying the other man and glancing at the snow that had fallen. "Afraid to get your perm wet?" He taunted with a good natured grin as he smacked the other man's arm. 

"Ya heading in right now?"

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Staying In Shape || Brigita & Gordon

[brigita-roman]

The chaos was sudden and surrounding, and Brigita was no exception to the bedlam. A slight kid of no more than fifteen nearly knocked her over in his haste to run to nowhere - or so it seemed, until a loud and angry voice chased after him. The pedestrians of the street stopped to watch the affair, fascinated or shocked by the chase unfolding before their eyes. Recovering from her forced skid, Brigita watched as a policeman ran by the corner and her, something dropping off his belt and rolling to her feet. A flashlight. 

Hesitantly, she bent down to pick up the heavy black object, turning it over in her gloved palm. Only the frustrated reminiscing of the cop brought her gaze upwards again, and she took a cautious step forward, into his path.

"Oh - uh - excuse me, sir." She offered up a polite smile as she revealed the nearly-lost object in her hand. "You dropped this as you ran." For emphases, she looked down at the light and nudged it slightly in his direction. 

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon huffed and looked up, ready to apologize to someone he probably ran into in his haste for chasing after the kid. Instead, he found himself staring at his own flashlight and looked up at the pretty redhead that held it out to him as his hand went to the barren space on his belt. 

"Thank you," He sighed gratefully, his tone gentler than it had been a moment ago as his anger began to dissipate. He was certain that if he saw the kid again he'd recognize him and knew it was inevitable. It wasn't like he wanted to drag him into the precinct and clap him in irons, chances were, the runt only needed a good talking to. "Hope we didn't startle you too much, miss." He added as he took the flashlight from her. "I was just-" He sighed, shaking his head and lifting a shoulder. "Troublemakers. What are ya gonna do?" He gave her a crooked smile as he wiped the flashlight free of snow on the outside of his coat. 

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Staying In Shape || Open

"Stop! Shi- STOP!" Gordon shouted, his feet hitting the wet pavement as he dodged around pedestrians.

If it wasn't for the fact that they were on a crowded street and the fact that he was fairly certain he was chasing some runt of a kid, he'd have shot the perp right in the ass. It was one thing to boost a car, but in broad daylight and not a block from the station? Either the kid was crazy or stupid. 

"Sonofabitch." He huffed, skidding dangerously around a corner and nearly smacking face first into a lightpost. The kid was already halfway down the block and what with the ice and the people that crowded the sidewalk, he knew he'd just make a bigger ass of himself if he tried to pursue. 

"I KNOW YOUR FACE!" He called angrily, huffing as glanced around at a few people that were staring. "What?" He snapped. "Kids so fast he belongs in a sideshow." He growled as he turned and began to head the way he came.

[katnieh-deactivated20150103]

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Day Two || Basics & Cosmetics

How do they usually dress?

I like to keep my wardrobe up to date, I mostly wear suits, especially now that I'm doing detective work. Of course, I have work suits, where I anticipate getting dirty, and suits for a night on the town.

What do they wear to sleep?

Boxer shorts.

Do they wear jewelry?

A cross my mother gave me.

Is there anything about their appearance they wish they could change?

Have you seen me? Obviously not.

How would they look as the opposite sex?

What do they smell like? Why (do they wear the scent or does it occur naturally)?

My cologne, my soap and shampoo. Cigarettes. Pie on occasion?

Do they have an accurate mental picture of their appearance (how they see themselves versus how the world sees them)?

I may be a bit on the vain side, but I like to think of it as being confident. I don't imagine I'm the sexiest guy in the world, but that doesn't bother me. Different strokes for different folks, right?

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Day One || The Basics

Age?

Thirty-five

Date of Birth?

February 14th, 1889

Hair color?

Light brown

Eye color?

Blue

Skin color/nationality?

Caucasian, American

Accent (if any)?

Boston.

Height?

5’11

Weight?

176 pounds

Tattoos?

None.

Piercings?

None.

Birthmarks?

A bit of lighter skin on my shoulder.

Disfigurements?

None.

Scars?

A few, none that detract from my stunning looks.

Do they have any nicknames? Where did they come from?

Some people call me Rummy; assholes at the station call me Chief when I tell them off for goofin' around.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Caffeinate Me || Gordon & Clarence

[clarence-hoover]

He shook his head, letting out a small sigh of frustration. Clarence also lowered his voice so that other ears wouldn’t listen in. “But that’s just the problem. Clark’s not here to fit in. He’s here to do his job, check us off of his list, and either go home or on to the next town.” He shuffled forward as they moved up in the line toward the counter. “He’s is supposed to be working with us, but the feds have never worked well with local forces because they have different interests, different priorities. They come in, push their agenda until it gets done, and then leave. They don’t have to live with the mess they create. We do.”

The detective ordered his coffee black, already feeling the anxiety in him building just talking about dealing with the men from Washington that had taken over their station as their headquarters for their investigation. “It really is a crying shame. After all we’ve been through the past year, this town could use a drink, but the federal government, in its infinite wisdom, decides they can’t have one. And we’re stuck in the middle, between a very big rock and a very irritating hard place.”

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon snorted, his distaste for the idea of the Prohibition obvious to those who knew him. Of course, his personal opinion never interfered with his work and he upheld the law to the best of his ability; but there wasn't an officer in the department that hadn't turned a blind eye at one point or another. So long as no one was getting hurt, or dying, the Montford police had been fairly lax in regards to the Prohibition laws. 

"Regardless of what they're here to do, they're gonna have a hard time of it if they don't start cooperating. When I was up in New York, you couldn't tell the police apart from the feds. Of course, they were workin' on keeping the city from rioting and more blood from being spilled, but I've seen people go crazy for less than a drink. They need to be careful in this town. It hasn't even healed yet and they're already pickin' at old wounds."

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Caffeinate Me || Eva & Gordon

[mister-miles-murdock]

"Copper, eh?" Eva raised an eyebrow and loosened the scarf around her neck. "Surprised we haven’t met before." Whether she was alluding to the fact that Montford was small and they hadn’t met, or that her late night drinking binges and he hadn’t caught her.

"Montford is so small. I’m Eva Yates, I work at the local grocery." She reached out a small, dainty hand, and decided to try and make piece with the cop before ordering her coffee.

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

"'Fraid so." Gordon replied with a sigh. He smirked as she suggested they hadn't met before, when, in fact, they'd met on several occasions. He supposed working at a grocers made it difficult to discern one face from the next, so he didn't hold it against her.

"Detective Gordon Rumsfield." He introduced himself, shaking her tiny hand. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Yates. You work over at Doosie's don'tcha?"

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Caffeinate Me || Gordon & Clarence

[clarence-hoover]

"Much obliged." He finally tipped his eyes up to see his partner holding the door open for him. He’d have noticed him sooner had he not been shielding his eyes from the icy wind that was blasting his face. Once they were inside, he turned to Gordon with a look of mutual exasperation. The rest of Montford was sleeping easy now that the Slasher had been found and dealt with, but those of the Montford PD had eliminated one problem just to have another more annoying one come along and drop in their lap. As horrible as it was to think, he would rather deal with a dozen serial killers than the bureaucratic nonsense of the federal government and, in turn, their agents.

"Steeling yourself for another day at the office?"

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon smirked tiredly at Clarence as they shut the wind out behind them. While at first he'd had his doubts about being partnered up with Clarence, they had gotten along well enough so far. He knew he couldn't ever fill Dickey's shoes in the other man's eyes, they'd been partners for too long, but they shared a mutual respect for the job and what they had handed to them. 

"Ya think what with bein' an outsider, Clark'd try to fit in more instead of shakin' the chains." He said so quietly only his partner could hear. "I mean, he's supposed to be workin' with us, right? This ain't an inside case and I'm a fuckin' monkey's uncle if that guy doesn't have a bottle or two stashed away at his place. If he makes one more sideways remark about my old man, I'm gonna kick his ass right back to D.C."

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Caffeinate Me || Dickdon

[richardcurr]

The morning’s Gazette was tucked tightly into the crook of his arm as Richard shuffled down the avenue. He’d been forced to park his car about two blocks away, which caused him to curse the bitter cold that forcibly made the man move faster than usual. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his suit jacket as an unprecedented gust of wind buffeted him. He could see Nine Owls just up ahead.

Just the sight of it alone brought a smile to his face; he could already smell the coffee grounds brewing from where he walked. He’d spent the majority of the night before awake, and it was a mystery that he was so bright eyed and bushy tailed this cold morning. Chalking it up as mild insomnia, Richard’s rare thirst for coffee had settled in, but he could have never believed that he would bump into Gordon on his way inside the coffee shop. “Why thank you, Gordon.” He reacted once the other man had opened the door for him. “Hitting the ground a little early, hm?”

[ruminating-rumsfield-blog]

Gordon's face split into a grin when he actually took a good look at who he was holding the door open for. 

"You are welcome, Dick." He told the former detective. "Yeah, well, with our friends in town someone's gotta." He sighed, brushing the melting snow out of his hair which caused it to stick up in pointy spikes. They got in the long queue side by side and Gordon had to wonder if half the town wasn't in here trying to warm up.

"What the heck are you still doin' here though?" He asked. "Shouldn't you be loungin' on a beach somewhere drinkin' somethin' fruity that comes with a little umbrella?" 

[earthseed-fic]