AN I love Gotham and all of the quality relationships on there an unhealthy amount, but what I reeeeeeally love is the relationship between Jim and Selina. That whole push and pull, father-daughter, ugh-you're-really-annoying-but-also-kinda-amusing-so-here-we'll-stay thing they've got going on is totally my jam.

(my other quiet obsessions within the show may creep in and my 'may' i mean 'totally will it's only a matter of time')

"You wanna tell me what you're doing on my veranda?"

Selina jumped at the sound of Jim's voice, and looked read to balk. She was huddled under the ledge, hiding from the rain. Apparently, it had been loud enough to cover the door opening, or she was just so lost in staring at the city she hadn't noticed.

"Just keeping dry," she said, voice nonchalant. Still, her eyes were pinned on him, searching for any sign of his advance.

"At the top of this particular apartment complex? That you had to scale in the rain?"

Selina somehow managed to look even more aloof as she shrugged.

"It caught me by surprise. I hate getting wet."

"Yeah, just at the top of your list of worries," Jim muttered, then glanced at the sky.

"You're gonna hafta move sometime."

"I've got time."

"I don't. And you are trespassing, in case you weren't sure."

"What, gonna send me to another youth correctional facility? Hand cuff me to a jail sell?"

"Do I look like I'm on duty?" he asked, holding his hands out at his sides for her inspection. Selina gave a reluctant flick of her eyes, taking him in. She shifted back into a slightly less tense position when she noticed had no shoes on, and was hanging in the doorway to avoid wetting his socks.

"I dunno, you cop types probably go to bed with handcuffs ready. I bet your girlfriend loves that."

Jim Gordon you are not going to respond to that she meant it exactly as you think she did you will not to this with a kid.

"Right."

"Whatcha got cookin' in there?" she asked unexpectedly, nodding inside. Jim glanced around, wondering if she could see or smell his dinner. "You came out chewing something, so."

"Beef stroganoff."

Selina's immediate expression of uncertain disgust was priceless.

"Relax, it's spaghetti. And you, what's your menu looking like?"

"Lobster," she said, voice once again cool in the face of his well-meaning gruffness. "Turtle broth for the soup course. I think Winston was going to even make a crème brulee, but dessert's always up in the air."

Jim huffed out a laugh. He knew the kid was quick on her feet, good word did he know, but it was nice seeing her banter because she felt like it, not because it saved her life.

He walked back into the apartment, the door swinging slightly shut behind him. He could feel Selina watching, and a part of him wondered if she would take that as an invitation inside. Then he scoffed, because she was also very smart, and didn't trust a soul. Plus, he had way more criminals in his home than he'd ever wanted.

He returned a few moments later, vaguely pleased to find her still perched on the veranda wall.

"Here," he said, holding out the plastic wrapped plate of spaghetti to her. Selina looked very alarmed at his offering.

"I don't do charity."

"Consider it a thank you for your help on my cases."

"I'm much prefer a pass on all further arrests."

"Watch it," he growled, but it was light enough to make her smile. "Besides, what street kid would turn down free food?"

Selina still didn't move.

"What, you'd rather steal it when I'm not looking?"

She rolled her eyes, and darted over to grab the plate from him. Jim smiled at her in triumph.

"And get some real cover. It's supposed to get nasty later."

She grumbled something like 'screw off,' which only made his smirk grow as he closed the veranda door.

Ten minutes later, when he checked outside again, the empty plate was tucked out of the rain. He ducked out and grabbed it, not at all surprised she made him clean up after her. Jim still didn't regret giving her extra meatballs.