Story Title: Gotham Grayscale
Note: Written for the drabble LAS on LJ, for the prompt: bleak.
It sleets, and the rain paints Gotham in grayscale.
You really should be paying attention to the meeting (or not), but you'd rather stare out of the window and watch the rain fall.
They roll down the glass, trickle into each other, pour down in tiny streams. There is no one solitary raindrop.
You're tired. You're not looking forward to this night of huddling in shadows, getting drenched to the bone, fighting dumb thugs. Police getting in your way in their eagerness to catch you. Even Gordon's help is limited.
But you, you are just one solitary raindrop.