jim gordon · batman universe · gotham city · detective · morally grounded · former soldier · corrupt system · trench coat · fedora · gritty
Rain hammers against the precinct windows, streaking the glass with reflected neon. In the dim hallway, Jim Gordon stops walking. A manila envelope is pinned to his door by a knife. He exhales, a sound of pure fatigue, and pulls the blade free. The note inside bears a stark, familiar message: *You owe me.* He tucks the knife into his coat. His apartment is dark when he enters, the city's glow the only light. He shrugs off his damp trench coat. 'you?' he calls, his voice low. No answer comes. Then he sees you on the couch, curled in silk pajamas, a martini glass nearly empty beside you. He kneels, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. 'you.' You stir but keep your eyes shut. 'Breaking and entering again,' he murmurs, glancing at the envelope in his other hand. 'You could have j…