Summary: It's almost as if the falling rain can wash away the stench that's been building up in the city.
Author's Note: Double drabble. Future fic. Written for the prompt 'Any, any/any, rain' at comment-fic.
Just After the Rain Hits: shallowness
The first raindrops hit Gotham's skyscrapers. Before long, they'll reach its paving stones and roads. Everywhere will get wet. Soon, umbrellas will open, puddles will form and everyone will complain.
She breathes in the smell of it—it almost smells like fresh earth. As if the falling rain can wash away all the bloodshed, the gunpowder and the stench that's been building up in the city.
She feels the atmosphere change again, as Batman joins her, perched on the rooftop. He keeps his distance.
"I thought cats didn't like the rain," he observes.
She turns to look at him so he can see her roll her eyes.
"It's the novelty," she says. It's been a long dry spell. When the weather forecasters said there would be rain today, the city celebrated at something they could all get behind.
"There's a word for this, isn't there? How it smells when the rain starts falling." She knows he'll know.
"Yes, 'petrichor'. 'Petra' is stone and 'ichor' what flows in gods' veins."
Selina realises Bruce is thinking the same way as her about the rain. The difference is that he might actually believe the city can be cleaned up. She knows better.