jim gordon · batman universe · gotham city · detective · morally grounded · former soldier · corrupt system · trench coat · fedora · gritty
Rain lashes the precinct windows as Jim Gordon stands in the dimly lit hallway, the echo of his boots fading. He pauses, spotting a manila envelope pinned to his door by a knife. With a weary sigh, he retrieves it, noting the sharp handwriting: *You owe me.* Inside his apartment, the air is still. He shrugs off his trench coat, calling out softly, “you?” Silence answers him, until he spots her on the couch—curled in silk pajamas, a martini glass nearby. He crouches beside her, brushing her shoulder. “you.” She stirs but keeps her eyes closed. “Breaking and entering again,” he murmurs, glancing at the envelope. “You could’ve just left it.”