Keith held her arms tighter. "Not, until we're down at the jail," he responded guiding her towards his patrol car. One of the other cops grabbed her other arm. They put her against the car, and Keith uncuffed one of her hands and put them back behind her back. "Do you have anything on you that's going to poke me, stick me, or stab me?"
"Beside me?" Morrigan quipped, adjusting her arms to pull the handgun from where she kept it tucked into her waistband. "Gun, knife, knife, more knives, an' a small hatchet. Y'might wan' my hands free for that, 'cause ain't no way in hell I'm lettin' any o' ya stick your hands where half o' those."
(I am being forced to go on a long and boring run with my little sister. So I'll be back in a little bit.)
"Or we can just wait until we get down to the jail and you can be charged for those as well," one of the other officers snapped.
Keith kind of just nodded in agreement. "I was gonna be nice, but with this attitude I don't think I'll be nice anymore. Out here it's a misdemeanor, in the jail it's a felony, you understand that right?"
"I'm the one offerin' up the knives, y'know." Morrigan pointed, out, unconcerned as ever as she tossed the gun to the ground, after making sure the safety was still on. "An' an alternative t' one or two o' you gettin' your hands ripped off. Attitude, huh? Tha's an understatement, accordin' t' my grandmother. Not that the woman's got much room t' talk…" She trailed off, muttering to herself as she removed a startling amount of knives from her hoodie, sleeves, and pockets, before pointing to her boots. "There's a couple in my boots, too. I'd need my hands t' get the hatchet, or one o' you can just unzip my hoodie an' get it. Pocket inside."
Keith talked quietly among his partners before pulling her back a little bit opening the car door and placing her in. "We don't currently have a female with us so we will have one get those for you when we get to the jail, but because we knew of them and we didn't take them off you, you will not be charged for them. You have enough charges as it is. Scarlet, you have a right to remain silent anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to speak with a lawyer. If you can not afford a lawyer one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights?"
"Loud 'n' clear, Gun Man." Morrigan said, tipping her head in a cheeky move of acknowledgement as she kicked her legs up onto the seat, her hands already back in front of her. She pulled the knives from her boots, tossing those into the disconcertingly large pile on the ground, before pulling the same maneuver and returning her hands to their place behind her back. It was somewhat a show, to let them know that they barely had any control over her. "Ya might wanna make tha' lawyer call now."
"Do you have any questions or concerns for me?" Keith ignored her comment. He'd had enough of her sass and cheekiness. But he wasn't about to show her that she was getting to him.
"Beyond tha' phone call?" Morrigan asked, tilting her head to the side as her grin widened. She was getting to him. "Yeah. Ya got a cig?"
"Nope," he closed the door.and locked it. The he walked back to the house with his partners while a couple other police officers stayed with Morrigan. Keith knocked on the door and waited for, one or more of Morrigan's friends to answer. He wanted to make sure they understood why she was being detained and wanted to know if they could contact whatever family she had to let them know where she was.
Johnson practically threw open the staff door to the restaurant, standing at his full and imposing height as he scowled down at Keith. "You lay a hand on Cade'n I'll-"
"Don't threaten the cops, Johnson." Another voice shouted from somewhere in the bustling kitchen the door led to, followed by an onion hitting Johnson in the back of the head. "Just ask him what the hell's going on!"
"Calm down please. She is being detained for the moment because she looks like a criminal we're looking for. I am not saying that she is. But the only way to tell for sure is to get a finger print scan and find out. We don't have the ability to check that here though, so we have to take her in to the jail, and get it done there. She is not in any danger and we might be able to get her out tomorrow or even tonight, provided that she isn't who we are looking for. Even if she is the criminal we are looking for we may be able to find her a bond company that will bond her out so that she's back here again," Keith explained calmly. He didn't seem to worried about the man's size or threatening manner. "I just came to ask if any of you had contact info for any family she has and if so, to contact that family and let them know where she is. I would also like to request some way to contact you or someone else in case we have to call and let you know where she is."
Johnson studied the man for a few moments, unfazed by the onion that had hit him on the head, before he called over his shoulder in a booming voice. "Which one o' you fucks has Eloise's contact information!"
"Kevin?"
"Nah man, lady don't like me much. Maria?"
"Yeah, I do." A woman with dark skin and even darker eyes moved Johnson aside easily, pulling out a communications device. "You need the number, or just want someone to let her know what's going on? Oh, dear. Tim, you might want to let the S.Cs know what's going on. They'll be hopeless without her, unless Gage knows to take over for a day or so." She waited until Johnson had nodded before looking at Keith, not bothering to explain what S.C meant.
"I do not require her info, if you just want to let her know for us she would probably like that more," Keith shook his head to the offer. "If you could do that for us that would be nice and hopefully we'll have her back out in no time."
"Yeah, hopefully." Johnson grumbled, earning him a slap on the shoulder from Maria, who smiled politely at Keith.
"We hope so. She's kind of family around here, you know?" Maria shook her head, a few pieces of dark hair falling from the bun it was in. "Helped all of us out of dark places. Try and keep her from getting herself in trouble?"
"Will do ma'am, we'll see ya round," he gave a slight wave and turned away walking back to his patrol car and getting in it. "Well I will say that you have some nice family here," he glanced back at Morrigan.
Morrigan looked up from her cuffs, which were back in front of her, sprawled over the hard backseat of the squad car. And an actual, soft and warm smile flickered onto her face, as she looked back at the restaurant. "They gave me a place t' stay, when home carried too many memories." She said, shaking her head and resuming fiddling with the cuffs, though it was obvious she wasn't trying to get them off. Just fiddling. "Got me back on my feet, an' I repayed the favor best I could."
"Listen, I want to help but the best I can do is recommend you for getting a bond and getting bailed out," Keith explained, as he started his rig and began driving through the city. "But I can't promise that anyone will take you."
"Don' matter. I already know no one will." Morrigan said, watching the restaurant until it was out of view, before looking down at her cuffs. "Everyone'll be fine withou' me. I'll serve my sentence. Maybe."
"And maybe you can continue helping your farmer family instead of stealing," Keith glanced in his mirror at her again. The next thing both of them knew Keith cursed, swerved and soon both of them were upside down, and fire could be heard crackling. Keith was out cold against the steering wheel.
Morrigan's shook her head as her eyes refocused, glancing around the car quickly to take in the damage. With a single yank, the chain of the cuffs was split, and she was pulling herself off the floor-no, the roof, of the vehicle, wincing slightly at the pain of a cut under her eye. Fire. Shit, shit shit shit. While she could control flames, and make her own, she wasn't impervious to fire not of her making. Just able to stand it a bit more. But she knew the officer couldn't, and despite hating his guts, she had a hero streak somewhere in that criminal exterior she put out. "Wake up, dammit." She grit out, not even realizing she was speaking in an entirely different language as she used her arm to bash the bullet proof glass divider in. The crash had weakened it, making it somewhat easier, even with her disorientation.
Keith shifted hearing the glass break, and realizing what was going on. "Fucking hell, god dammit, son-of-a-bitch," he spat half in pain and half in frustration. He was stuck where he was because he had a seat belt, and it looked like some piece of metal had pinned his arm. "Scarlet! Are you alright?"
"Right as rain." Morrigan quipped, clearing away the glass from the divider before pulling herself halfway through. "How many fingers am I holdin' up?" None, in fact. Nothing but a knife, which she was now using to cut away his seatbelt.
Keith didn't respond to her, but hissed in pain when pressure was put on his arm. His seatbelt was gone but his arm was still pinned in the metal. He looked at the fire and then at Morrigan. "Get, you're not going to be able to get me out in time, you have to get out."
"As fuckin' if." Morrigan grit out, pausing to roll the sleeves of her hoodie up and get them out of the way. She pulled herself the rest of the way into the front seat, kicking at the passenger side door to try and loosen it. "I don' like ya, but I don' leave people t' die." Not again.
"Scarlet, stop moving," Keith was looking through the cracked windshield. He was looking at something but he wasn't sure what, though he could tell that good.