“Where are we?” He asks, clutching the blanket to his chest as you help him onto the small couch. Now, as he sits closer to the light, you finally get a good look at him.
He’s good looking; you won’t lie, with soft brown eyes that watch everything like a hawk constantly. But they’re pretty eyes, and you can’t help but admire them.
Is this a storyline out of a crappy romance? Woman saves man, nurses him back to health, then falls in love and lives happily ever after? Yep, you’ve read this one.
Except it wasn’t set in Gotham, and there wasn’t people practically hunting you for fun. Talk about a killer twist.
“You’re in my apartment, on the outskirts of Old Gotham. We’re safe here; much to my own disgust, I made a deal with Carmine Falcone …show more content…
“Look, Soldier Flag, I don’t need your judgement. If you’re really disgusted with me, there’s the door,” you angrily growl, gesturing to the barricaded front door as your face heats up, “but I stayed in Gotham because my mother is sick, if not dying, and I be damned if I let her die on some school bus as she leaves this stinking …show more content…
It’s rather miserable; cold beans and bread. You place Rick’s plate on his lap and he looks up with surprise as you disappear into the bedroom.
A little while later you return with a partially clear plate. Setting it down on the coffee table, you curl up in the armchair opposite the couch. You both avoid each other’s gaze for a moment, awkward pity radiating from him.
“What were you doing in Crime Alley?” You suddenly ask and Rick is a little taken off-guard at the question.
“I…I was looking for one of Scarecrow’s guys. The guy who supposedly knows all the codes, all the keys; we’re in Gotham to stop Crane destroying everyone.” Rick explains, and you nod along as you put the plate next to his.
“That woman, who died – she one of yours?” You almost regret asking the question, because his eyes immediately betray hurt; only for a split second, before he’s back in Mister Macho mode.
“Taggert was a good soldier.”
“A good person?”
“…definitely.” He quietly responds and you nod, taking up the plates and bringing them into the kitchen.
Rick watches you leave and it occurs to him he’s grown fond of you. Maybe it was your bossy attitude, or the fact you’re just one of the good guys dumped in a bad situation, but something definitely made him appreciate your
He’s good looking; you won’t lie, with soft brown eyes that watch everything like a hawk constantly. But they’re pretty eyes, and you can’t help but admire them.
Is this a storyline out of a crappy romance? Woman saves man, nurses him back to health, then falls in love and lives happily ever after? Yep, you’ve read this one.
Except it wasn’t set in Gotham, and there wasn’t people practically hunting you for fun. Talk about a killer twist.
“You’re in my apartment, on the outskirts of Old Gotham. We’re safe here; much to my own disgust, I made a deal with Carmine Falcone …show more content…
“Look, Soldier Flag, I don’t need your judgement. If you’re really disgusted with me, there’s the door,” you angrily growl, gesturing to the barricaded front door as your face heats up, “but I stayed in Gotham because my mother is sick, if not dying, and I be damned if I let her die on some school bus as she leaves this stinking …show more content…
It’s rather miserable; cold beans and bread. You place Rick’s plate on his lap and he looks up with surprise as you disappear into the bedroom.
A little while later you return with a partially clear plate. Setting it down on the coffee table, you curl up in the armchair opposite the couch. You both avoid each other’s gaze for a moment, awkward pity radiating from him.
“What were you doing in Crime Alley?” You suddenly ask and Rick is a little taken off-guard at the question.
“I…I was looking for one of Scarecrow’s guys. The guy who supposedly knows all the codes, all the keys; we’re in Gotham to stop Crane destroying everyone.” Rick explains, and you nod along as you put the plate next to his.
“That woman, who died – she one of yours?” You almost regret asking the question, because his eyes immediately betray hurt; only for a split second, before he’s back in Mister Macho mode.
“Taggert was a good soldier.”
“A good person?”
“…definitely.” He quietly responds and you nod, taking up the plates and bringing them into the kitchen.
Rick watches you leave and it occurs to him he’s grown fond of you. Maybe it was your bossy attitude, or the fact you’re just one of the good guys dumped in a bad situation, but something definitely made him appreciate your