4937/I Only Looked Away for a Second!

I Only Looked Away for a Second!
Date of Scene:	16 July 2018
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Willow visits The Big City(tm), and gets her wallet (and her sage and candles - wut? it's important!) stolen, and meets someone from the old neighbourhood. Or close enough.
Cast of Characters:	Willow Rosenberg, Elizabeth Greene

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Willow Rosenberg has posed:
It was John's fault, really. He'd suggested some meditation exercises, along with the addition of candles and incense, and really that was all the excuse Willow needed to go on a shopping excursion to the big city.

Okay, fine, thhere were other places that sold those things, but there was this little shop tucked in near Central Park that Willow had been dying for a reason to go to. Okay.. there was that, and she really wanted to go see Central Park, even if it was a very touristy sort of thing to do. Not that the locals didn't frequent there as well, but when in New York, right?

Since leaving Bludhaven, Willow had all these things she felt she had to tick off her list of 'things to do before starting college in the fall'. Besides, any excuse to shop, right? Even if it wasn't for clothing..

It had been a lovely day. Arriving by subway near lunch. Veggie hotdog from a vendor, and feeding the ducks down by the pond, before heading off to the shop to pick up her wares, with the intent on grabbing some bagels and lox to take home to share with Buffy..

Only Somewhere between the witchery shop and the delicatessan, Willow's wallet had gone missing. She knows she had it at the shop - she's got the candles to prove it, plus a fat wad of sage (you can never have enough!).. but at the deli when she went to pay? No wallet. Just a frowning baker suggesting she waltz herself down to the police station to report it, grumbling all the while about having to put the items back, and the lineup Willow had caused...

So it was Willow Rodsenburg found herself at the local police station, looking to report a theft.

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
As with most police precincts, things were hopping. There were officers everywhere but they were often rushing to a task or had a perp in tow and were taking him down to the holding cells. There were hard wooden seats lining a wall in the lobby area while the harried desk sergeant fielded questions from people, answered phones and yelled at officers going by when he needed something relayed.
    As Willow entered the room, she was forced to wait behind a woman who was convinced there was an alien living in her closet. While aliens weren't so insane these days, the idea of one in her closet had the Sergeant ready to roll his eyes at her story. "So, is this one of them Kryptonians or Apokolips ones?"
    "He's a Martian. He's green and he's two feet tall."
    Considering Martian Manhunter is part of the Justice League, the officer knows that is not a real Martian. "Take this, go fill out the forms, come back after." She is passed a clipboard and pen, the stack of papers at least six pages deep. The woman wanders off to sit giving Willow her chance.
    The sergeant focuses on her and holds up a finger as he says something on a phone before hanging up. Then he gives the young woman his full attention. "How can we help you today?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow isn't quite used to the size of the place, or the sheer amount of humanity gathered at the precinct to report happenings. Of course, she's not aware that quite a number of them will be on the lines of the poor lady who believes she's having issues with a Martian. Witness the three men brought in zipties, and handcuffed to the waiting benches on the far side of the room..

If there hadn't been a slot on that list of hers for visit the local precinct and expose yourself to true NYC colour, there was one now, with a HUGE checkmark beside it.

Willow almost misses that it's her turn, as she's cocked her head around to watch the lady toddle off with her clipboard to fill out her report. The young woman finally bringing her attention back to the counter, and the officer behind it. "Oh gosh, she doesn't really think she saw a Martian, does she?" Says the girl who has routiney encountered much worse and more bizarre. "It is always so busy here? I mean, back home we have a police station, but it's really tiny, and mostly people come in to report they've lost their dog, or stupid things like that."

Not an answer to the man's question at all.

She smiles at the man as she says that last, then remembers why she's come here. "Oh! And my wallet was stolen."

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    He stares at her for long moments then heaves a sigh as he reaches for another clipboard. "Fill out these forms and bring them back when you are done. Don't skip any pages either." With that, he offers the clipboard and is already looking to the man standing behind her.
    It is about that point that a woman comes walking through the lobby, toward that swinging half door that will allow her to enter the buzzing bullpen area. She's probably in her late twenties, blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She's wearing dress pants, plain black sneakers, a scoop necked blouse and a dark blazer. At her waist on her belt is a police shield identifying her as a detective. Her weapon is on her right hip but mostly not visible except when the jacket shifts when she moves.
    The sergeant spots her as he is holding out the clipboard to Willow. "Beth! Six messages for you!"
    She walks over and picks up the offered slips of paper then glances at Willow with a smile. "Good afternoon."
    The sergeant waves a hand. "She's just here for a lost wallet. Or stolen wallet. Something."
    Beth glances from him back to Willow then waves for the girl who seems really not the sort to be in a police station to follow her. "I'll take this one. It'll keep me in practice," she tells the sergeant. "C'mon. We'll go to my desk and I'll take your report." She offers her hand. "I'm Detective Beth Greene."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"Oh, it's not just a stolen wallet - I mean, I guess it could be lost, but I know I put it in my satchel. It has my subway ticket home. I'm very careful about things like that."

Willow: careful about very many things. Subway tickets and wallets? Not so much. But she'd like to be, and it's the thought that counts, right?

Still, she's happy enough to be foisted off on the lady officer, if only because the man behnd the counter looked about one Martian report away from quitting his job.

"Wow, is it really like this all the time here? He looks so unhappy. I guess it's kind of like the 'do you want fries with that' of the cop world, huh? Wait, can we say that? Is cop okay? Oh gosh, this is so much easier back home. It's just Hey Fred, I lost my wallet. Why that's a shame, Miss Willow, got any idea where you might have lost it? Nothing like here. Oh, I'm Willow, by the way. That's why he'd be saying Miss Willow, but you probably already guessed that, huh? Being a cop and all."

Willow's cheeks pinken through her fluster.

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    This young woman is not from around these parts. "Cop is fine. Officer. Police. Five-Oh. We'll even take a po-po if you insist," Beth tells her with a smile as she pushes that half door open and waves Willow through. She'll follow once the girl has entered then head down a hall, leading her toward a far quieter area. They take an elevator up two floors to get there.
    It's still a bullpen with rows of desks on either side and chairs at each. Officers here are all in plainclothes though and the furniture is a little nicer than downstairs. "Welcome to the Homicide Division," she says, waving at the room then moving to a desk three down on the right. It's tidy with a single picture of her parents and her as personal effects.
    "You can just call me Beth. It'll make things easier. So you feel like you are talking to Fred back home. Where is home anyway?" she asks, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a pad of good old fashioned paper to take notes as they talk.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow follows along, gawking just like a tourist. Worse, even. She gawks like she's never encountered the idea of crime and criminals and the bottom of the barrel rung of crazy that a big city like New York has to offer. It's kind of like visiting the circus - if the circus were filled with tents that displayed petty crime and conspiracy theories, and sold tinfoil hats instead of cotton candy.

"Beth is a pretty name. I like it. It sounds good when you say it. Beth. See? You wouldn't expect anything horrible with a name like that, right?" Willow gives a tiny frown. "I guess you wouldn't with a name like Willow, either, but I guess that's what happens when your best friend is a Slayer - well, the Slayer. Kinda.. and how'd you know I wasn't from around here?"

Then her brain catches up with her mouth.

"Oh, right. I told you. The story about Fred. It's true, though, he really would say that. That's a shame Miss Willow." And he had. Or close enough to it. "Wait, homicide division? That's murder, right? I just lost my wallet. Nobody died." This time. And did demons really count?

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    The pen that Beth is holding is utilized. She scribbles a few notes on the table as Willow is talking but mainly, she's watching the younger woman. "We are officers still. We can take reports. I figure the guys down there were looking swamped and I didn't have a scene to run to immediately so I'd help. We try to do that for one another from time to time." She grins. "Well, some of us do."
    "It is a shame, Miss Willow, that you had your wallet stolen. Can you tell me where and what happened?" She has her hand poised atop the yellow legal pad, the position of it really not allowing for Willow to see what she writes. Which is probably a good thing since one of them is the word Slayer with two question marks behind it.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
It's probably a really good thing that Willow didn't see Beth's scribble, or scribbling, while she babbled. It would have brought up so many kinds of awkward. As it is, Willow is left smiling almost shyly at Beth's treating her just like Fred back home might.

"I guess that's true, right? You're all still officers, only I thought here in the Big City" - she says it with capitals, just like that - "you'd all have your own area and nobody bothered with things that weren't their business. Not like back home where they all kind of share the jobs. We're really not big enough for a whole department just for murders!"

But none of that is dealing with her wallet. "My wallet. Right. See," Willow's features scrunch up some, "I know I had it at Rowan Apothecary. I know, because I paid for the candles and the incense. The purple candles cost more and I almost didn't get them because of it." And, as if to prove her point, Willow opens up her satchel, and scrounges within for the bag from the Apothecary shop, only to come up empty. "Well, son of a beeswax! Someone stole my candles. And my sage!"

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    "I'll make a confession. I'm not from around these parts either. Maybe that's why I'm willing to help out more instead of just cubby holing my skills into a certain area. Don't get me wrong. I likely won't be doing all the follow up on your case, that'll be another division. But I can at least write a report."
    As Willow begins to explain, Beth uses her left hand to tap a few keys and looks up Rowan Apothecary. Only one place in the city with that name so that simplifies matters. New Age shop specializing in magic supplies.
    That has Beth making a few assumptions herself even as Willow discovers she lost more than her wallet. "You presumably had them when you left the shop? How long before you realized you were missing your wallet? And where did you travel in between?"
    She's scribbling more notes as she asks, left hand on the keyboard and pulling up a map of the area where the shop was located.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"I'm not from around here either," Willow confesses as though she's not already said that prior. "We just moved here from Bludhaven. We're going to school in the fall, but we got this incredible opportunity for a place to live - cheaper than first year residences, and who wants to live at home, right?"

"I know I had them in the store. And then I walked over to the deli - Lox, Stock, and Bagels - to get us some dinner. I had to look up directions on my phone.."

Willow's eyes widen as it occurs to her to check that she still has that. Which she does. But it seems to spark another memory. "Oh, there was this lady. She bumped into me. Well, I might have bumped into her. Im not sure. She yelled at me for not looking where I was going, and her groceries all spilled. Me and this other guy helped her pick them all up."

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    Two potential suspects just like that. "We'll check the cameras in the area, see what we can find." Her left hand leaves the keyboard long enough to pick up a form. It seems to be asking for general personal information. Full name. address, date of birth. The things needed to know who their complainant is for the report.
    "Bludhaven?" That does get another smile from Beth. "That's where I was born and raised. I was in the homicide division there. Transferred up here on a deal for six months. Officer exchange program."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow sits up and blinks. "We have a homicide division there? But nobody ever gets...." On second thought, Willow thinks better of finishing that. She's pretty sure some of the things they have dealt with dallied about in otherwise human bodies as part of their cover, leaving the young woman uncertain if that actually does count as murder or not.

"Well gosh, you know what I mean, then. How'd we never meet? The place is still the same. I swear Old Lady Mitigan yelled at me just last week for crossing her lawn. Only the tiniest bit of a corner, even."

The girl smiles even more broadly at Beth, until she remembers, "Oh, gosh. My ticket home. All my money and my ticket were in my wallet. I don't have a way back." Or dinner, but dinner she could probably scrounge up out of the cupboards, even if it was just KD.

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    "Old Lady Mitigan? Ah, you were in Sunnydale. Yeah, not a lot of homicides over there in the suburbs but not untouched either. Bludhaven itself has a lot." Way too many. Their caseload had been huge with not enough detectives to cover them all. Not that New York was any better. It might even be a bit worse. They had bodies every single night here. At least there were some breaks from it back in Bludhaven.
    "You lucked out today, Miss Willow. I happened to be heading that way. I was just coming in to finish up for the night then going home to visit the folks for my days off. I can give you a ride there. Well, if you don't mind riding on a motorcycle." Her unmarked cruiser is not one that is a pool car and thus not one she can take home or out of the city.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow grins. "Sunnydale. Right. And really? Murders?" Who knew. "Actually, I'm in Gotham now? The new building out by the prison."

Fine, it wasn't the best area of town. But it was cheap. And the building /was/ nice. "I guess maybe Buffy's mom might be able to give me a ride home."

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    "You're that scared of being on a motorcycle? I promise I'm a very good driver," Beth says with a grin, channeling her inner Rain Man with that last bit as she puts on the silly accent.
    "The new apartments? Yeah, probably a good place to live. Most people think it's bad but consider. If someone breaks out of prison, they are going to head as far away as humanly possible from that prison. They aren't going to hang out at the place next door."

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
A blink from Willow. "Oh, no. I meant, I didn't want to put you out. I thought you meant you were going to Bludhaven.. Ah. Yeah. You know where I live from the forms. Uh.. a motorcycle, really?"

Willow nods. "The building is nice. Everything is still all new. It still smells like fresh paint. And there's a pool! Who has a pool in their building?"

Of course the place /is/ a community centre as well.

"So, say, how likely is it you're going to find my wallet? I mean, it didn't have a lot of money in it, but I didn't have much extra till the end of the month." And didn't want to have to explain this one to Buffy if she didn't have to. "And they probably won't keep the candles and the sage, huh?"

Because really, who has business cards that say: Bonnie & Clyde, New Age Thieves, We specialize in procuring your petty arcane needs so that you don't have to.

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    "Truthfully? Pretty unlikely on the wallet. It's possible though. Sometimes they take out the cash and credit cards then toss the wallet and ID. I figure that might happen to your candles and sage too, just be dumped. Unless the Apothecary has a no receipt return policy. Then they might try to return it for some quick cash."
    She taps a few buttons on the keyboard. "We'll review all the cameras in the area to find out but that'll take a bit of time. We'll let you know what we find." She glances down at her notepad then looks to Willow. "You mentioned your best friend earlier. What's her name? Maybe I've met her even though I haven't met you." And then she has a name to link to the term Slayer. Maybe this a lead to some of those homicides but she has to play it carefully.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"Huh? Oh, Buffy. Buffy Summers. I was trying to bring us home the bagels and lox as a treat."

Willow is quite disappointed about not only the wallet, but her other things as well. She'd made the special trip and all, and spent more than she should have on the things.. "There's not much money in the wallet. Maybe fifteen bucks. And I don't have a credit card. I'm bummed about my candles and sage, though. Do you know how much sage we go through?"

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    Sage isn't something that Beth is very familiar with. She knows it's an herb. Probably used in cooking. Maybe the girls like to cook a lot? She has no idea about the occult uses for it since that's not something she's personally ever dealt with.
    "No, I have no idea how much sage you might use. You like to cook? Or your friend does?" She makes a note of the name Buffy Summers next to the Slayer. "No idea how much sage and candles cost or I could offer to try and help out with replacing them. Is it a lot?" After all, she's on a cop's salary.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
"Well, they were exensive at Rowan's." Now Willow has all the buyer's regret. "I should have just bought the stuff at the little shop around the corner from me. It'll be okay. And no, we don't cook. Not that kind of cooking anyway. Just college girl cooking."

Elizabeth Greene has posed:
    Beth tears off the top sheet from the notepad, folds it and tucks it into her pocket. "I'll finish up with those details a bit later," she offers to Willow as she begins shutting down her computer. She takes the form from Willow and lays it in the in-box on her desk. "I already put in the request for the camera footage. I'll check the emails tonight and see what there might." Working off duty? Yeah, comes with the job title it seems.
    "For now, let's get you some candles, sage and then a trip home."