Summary: Renee Montoya gets some information from Nightwing.
Location: A rooftop in the Coventry neighborhood of Gotham.
Rating: PG for alcohol and tobacco references
In yesteryear, Renee had this really awesome flashlight that fashioned as a mini Bat-signal. She used it for summoning Batwoman. She still has it, and she does, in fact, consider it, but she's not really sure what symbol Nightwing goes by -- or that she could draw it all that well. Maybe she'll get a few stickable decals printed up or something. But for now? Mundanity it is: a phone call. Depending on how suspicious Titans (or their secretaries) might be, they might do a background check on Renee; she hasn't been in town for awhile. She asks for a meeting with Nightwing. In Gotham.
So... this is Gotham, probably at night because he's not "Daywing" after all, and it suits Renee's schedule just fine. The neighborhood suits her just fine, too: she can banter with immigrants just fine and get into little scuffles over Dominicans being better than Puerto Ricans and /both/ of them are far superior to Mexicans and whatnot. She splurges for a pair of empanadas.
And then she finds a handy fire escape, scaling it to hit the rooftops. You'd think people would start to look up more often for Bats and their ilk, but people are still single-minded things. Renee does not blame them. It's a hard life, being people. She settles at the edge of the assigned rooftop, looking out over this 'sector' as she supposes someone on patrol might term it, thinking on former cases and how she is saddened she can't get a good recipe for empanadas from her mother.
She should've brought a six-pack.
Renee is probably familiar with the most annoying part about the Bat-Family. That uncanny ability they have to -always- sneak up on you. So in a strange way, it might -not- be a surprise when Nightwing's voice pipes up from a few meters behind her.
"Detective Montoya...you wanted to see me?" He steps from the shadows, not quite as imposing and creepy as the Batman himself, but not entirely lacking in presence. Though he often tends to ruin it somewhat with his bad jokes and far more ready smile.
Renee's shoulders tighten; instinctive reaction. She probably knew what she was in for, though; she shouldn't be surprised someone trained by the Batman is sneaky and probably takes perverse joy out of startling people. Fortunately she is not so startled she'll lose her position. Or even her food, although she'll have a little more grease on her hand for clenching it tightly.
"Former," she says as she turns, with the resigned tone that she'll be repeating this often. Former detective. "Just Montoya now." Or 'The Question,' but given she's not wearing a suit and /is/ wearing a face, probably not the best appellation just now. "Hey. Empanada?"
She offers the second of the pair, left in its little brown bag, which is grease-spotted. It wouldn't be the real deal if the bag were spotless. The offer is guileless and genuine.
"Still a detective in all the ways that really matter, from what I've seen." Nightwing replies with a grin, moving forward and tilting his head slightly, "Sure, if you don't want it." He simply moves to sit down next to Renee, accepting the bag and peering within before extracting the pastry, though he does speak before he starts munching, "Thanks...so what's up?" So much for the mystique and fearmongering of the Bat-family, eh?
"Not enough of a detective to know if you're a vegetarian or anything, so... have fun," Renee says a tad wryly. So nice to work with Bat-people who can appreciate some mild ribbing. She's telling the truth, though. That's a /beef/ empanada.
"It'd be rude of me to not bring anything," Renee allows. "But it's true I didn't really need a date." Ha ha. Nightwing knows he's not her type. "I'm looking for Catwoman -- also not for a date -- and was wondering if you had any hints as to where I should start poking. I just got back in town." And, unspoken, she doesn't really have some of the resources she used to. Was switching from 'GCPD' to 'Batclan acquaintance' an upgrade? Guess she'll find out.
"See, and here I was never able to talk the GCPD into leaving out milk and cookies for us." Nightwing jokes in-between bites, though as she brings up the reason for her visit, his brow furrows a bit in thought, "Well, Catwoman and I don' always travel in the same circles, but from what I understand she tends to hang around the area in and around Bryantown these days. Sometimes she branches out into Downtown or the Central Business District, too." He considers a few moments, then glances towards Renee, "Do I get to ask what this is all about?"
Renee grimaces, but doesn't look away evasively. It'd just be nice if Nightwing would blithely fork over the information and then traipse away on his grapple line, tra la la, to go chase redheads or swing from a flying trapeze or whatever his hobbies are. It's kind of amusing, though, The Question hopeful that someone else wouldn't /ask/ them.
"More like a figure-eight," the ex-cop agrees, gesturing with her hands until the two circles should meet in the middle. "She dances on this side, you on that. Although, I suppose, Batman more than you." But she'll get around to answering, too, as she knows Nightwing is not a distractable idiot. Maybe if Renee herself had red hair. But she doesn't. "She took something from a guy who wants it back. It's not floating around on the black market, so at least she hasn't sold it -- and probably never would." Must be cat-themed. "I was hired to find her."
After a moment Renee adds a little dryly, "I suppose if I'm successful I can give you a bonus, too."
"Well, she's taken a lot of things over the course of her career, though not so much lately, from what I understand." Nightwing comments, polishing off the last of that empanada before continuing, "I think you can keep the bonus. But if someone's going through a private detective rather than the police, I'd have to ask if the item that was taken might not have been legally his property to begin with." He adds, "Or is it just a case of "yeah, I don't think the police are going to find it so I'm covering all my bases?"
Renee snorts a little, and, dusting some flaky pastry crumbs from her hands, braces one against her knee and turns to look out at the city again. "Maybe both, knowing how such things work for archaeological finds. That thing -- a statuette of Bast, he said -- belongs in a museum. I don't think it has any actual powers. You know how Catwoman is. Since it was part of a private collection I'm guessing he doesn't want the embarrassment. But he /also/ claims to have hidden something he needs in the base of the statue." She does so love clever little compartments. And would hate it if one of her own such storeboxes were stolen. "Genetic research that'll 'change the world.' Probably doesn't want the patent sold off just so Catwoman can buy more Meow Mix or Tidy Cat."
"Genetic research. Scary subject." Nightwing comments, "Especially if he's hiding it in priceless Egyptian antiquities." He smirks a bit, "I'm betting she's more the Fancy Feast and Fresh Step type." He can't help but make the joke, it just comes too naturally to him. "I'd ask who hired you, but I'm going to guess that "client privilege" takes over from there."
The corner of Renee's mouth quirks at that, but then she sobers. "For now, yeah. In two more days I can tell you. Three, tops. I might not be able to find much, but whether or not I do, those were the terms of agreement." Ah. A whole two days to find Catwoman, who eludes police and Bats alike. Yeah. No wonder even a detective should take some shortcuts with this particularly knowledgeable contact. Turning to look at Nightwing again Renee wonders, "Feel like joining the hunt?" It's just an offer; she seems okay with doing the rest on her own. Laughable as the idea of a mere former cop potentially going up against Catwoman may be.
Well. A former cop who was willing and able to take down some Intergang shapeshiftery types. Maybe not so mere.
"I'll keep an eye out for her. But let me just make one suggestion: If you -do- find Catwoman, try talking to her before you do anything else. Not...that you weren't necessarily going to do that -anyway-, but she's not a completely unreasonable person." Nightwing adds, "That, and I'd strongly suggest having an expert look over that genetic research if you recover it. "Changing the world" can mean a lot of different things, not all of them good."
"Mm," Renee says. Is that a word? Hums, then. She mulls it over briefly. It's true that another 'Cat,' that one in New York City, seemed reasonable to a point. Maybe Renee would have an even better rapport with Catwoman, Gotham girls that they both are. "I'll bow to your expertise. A good cop doesn't need to rely on violence to solve her problems. And I'm still a good /something/, I hope." That, said a tad blandly.
Renee begins to straighten, then, and pushes herself back from the low balustrade at the edge of the roof. Gargoyles and angels are at a minimum here, but there's still some crumbling decoration; it's not too comfortable after awhile, and she did get here early.
"And you're right about the research. He seemed worried less about Catwoman's evil laugh and more about it falling into the wrong hands. I'm inclined to peg things on pride, but whatever the justification, it's his. Maybe I can download a copy first."
And this, perhaps, is why she's no longer a cop.
"Probably worth looking into. You'd know as well as anyone that there's not very much that can be taken at face value in this town." Nightwing notes, rising to his feet as well, "No pun intended." Given Renee's "lack" of a face when she chooses to utilize her costumed identity. A couple heartbeats pass before he admits, "OK, maybe a -little- bit of pun intended."
Renee rolls her eyes, although she hardly seems offended. "It's alright," she replies. "You're young, yet." Because she is /so/ much older. "You hold onto that humor. Otherwise your ears start to grow and you'll get a cape and everything."
Gravel and grit crackle underfoot as Renee slides a step closer, and she offers her hand. "Thanks for the info. Especially on such short notice." Tight schedule and all. "I'll contact you in a few days." She pauses. "If not, it's because Catwoman probably trussed me up or something."
"Hey, he has a sense of humor. Sometimes. Like on Christmas. Maybe." Nightwing jokes once more, and can't suppress a bit of a smirk at being called "young." Still, he shakes Renee's hand firmly, "Not a problem. For what it's worth, and regardless of how it all boiled down...we always knew you were one of the good ones." He adds, "If I don't hear from you, I'll come looking. But I may be out of town for a couple days. Still, I shouldn't be out of contact." He hopes not anyway, because that would mean he was probably trussed up by Ra's Al Ghul or something. Not that he voices that particular concern. "Take care, Ms. Montoya."
Now, /now/, a more honest smile is visible. That's pretty high praise, eh? Montoya always did admire Batman and his protege. "Thanks," she murmurs, reclaiming her hand. "Take care. Here, let me helpfully turn my back so you can be all mysterious..."
That would be the -second- most annoying trait of the bat-family, but hey, if she's going to make it easy, he's all too happy to keep up the ritual, leaping off the edge of the rooftop and out of sight, though if she turns back around in a few moments she'll be able to spot Nightwing making his way between buildings with his usual acrobatic panache.
"One day," Renee murmurs, turning about just in time to catch a black (and blue) figure somersaulting and handspringing and such. One day when she completely gives up her cigarettes, perhaps, she will cavort and cartwheel along rooftops.
...Nah, who's she kidding. She'll just let a cloud of smoky binary gas do the talking and meld away. Not right now, though. She's all plainclothes. Fire escape it is. It works just as well going down as up. Even better, actually.