Quick A/N: Hey guys. Some things I'd like to point out. First of all, the story will start off mid-season 2. Also some chapters will be about the past and they will be in italics. The chapters in italics take place several years before the events of Gotham. Also, I'm going to be changing some things in the show around for this story so I apologize for that in advance in case anyone happens to get confused while reading. Anyways enjoy!
Present Day
Tick...tick...tick
The sound of the clock taunts me. It reminds me of how long I've been here for. It's ridiculous. These pigs were quick to arrest me, but no one seems to be around to interrogate me. Not like anyone cared at this point. Murders happen in Gotham every day. No one pays attention to your simple thief.
Beads of sweat drip down from my forehead onto the metal table, making a splash. The handcuffs dig in my skin, reddening. I can't wipe my nose, so I keep sniffling. I know I'm going through withdrawal, and to make it out of here soon
As if they could tell what I was thinking, someone walks in. My head lifts up immediately. I make eye contact with someone I thought I would never see again. My heart drops into my stomach.
"Jim," I speak quietly.
Jim stops and stares for a moment. He looks at me as if I were a ghost. Knowing him, he had probably thought I was dead.
"Anna," he says as he closes the door.
He begins to walk towards me, and I no longer make eye contact with him. Hell, I try my best to not even look at the man.
"Long time no see. I see you're still with the GCPD," I say coldly.
"I see you're still addicted to cocaine," he replies. I look at him angrily. As if doing drugs was almost half as bad as what he did to me.
"Let's just get this over with," I grit between my teeth. I turn my head away from him again. He sits on the edge of the table near me.
"It's been awhile since we've actually since we've caught you. Almost 7 years to be exact. We all thought you were dead," Jim says reading my file. I roll my eyes.
"There are tons of thieves in Gotham. I don't know why I'm so special?" I say trying to suppress my anger.
"Why did you steal the fruit from Mr. Galarza? You know he works hard to sell those apples and you think it's alright to just take them from him when he isn't looking?" Jim asks. I sigh, annoyed. I wish he would stop patronizing me.
"I was hungry, James. You should know that," I tell him.
"Well I'd like to keep an open-mind that after all these years you'd shape up and change," Jim says. I sit up angrily.
"It's not that easy, Jim! Not everyone grows up with a silver spoon in their mouths!" I shout at him. Jim doesn't say anything for a few moments. He then does something unexpected. He takes off the handcuffs.
"You're right, Anna. You're free to go," Jim says. I'm relieved, yet confused.
"What are you going to tell Mr. Galarza?" I ask, massaging my wrists.
"I'll just tell him you escaped or something," Jim replies.
"Yeah, it wouldn't be the first lie you told," I say bitterly.
"Hey," Jim says. I'm about the walk out when Jim grabs my wrist. He grabs me, and it feels like nothing else exists.
"I'm glad to see that you're okay," Jim says. I almost wanted to take his heartfelt comment, but I should know better than to believe him. I snap out of my trance and pull my arm out of his grasp.
"Yeah, right," I say. I grab the door handle, but Jim calls my name again. I begrudgingly turn to face him once more.
"Anna, you should seek some help. This is not healthy behavior," Jim says.
"You really think you're the first person to tell me that?" I ask him.
"I mean it, Anna," he adds.
"Go to hell, Jim Gordon," I reply. I'm almost out the door when he grabs me again.
"Quit touching me!" I hiss.
"At least go see Dr. Thompkins," Jim says.
"Who?" I ask.
"The medical examiner here. She can help you. She'll give you a free check-up. Her room is down the hall," Jim replies.
"If I do it will you finally leave me alone?" I ask.
"If that's what you wish," Jim replies.
Before escaping Jim's grasp again, I couldn't help but let my eyes travel down to his hand. I noticed he was wearing a wedding band on his finger. I gulped and inhaled deeply.
"You're getting married?" I ask calmly. Jim takes a look at his wedding band and if he didn't know it was there.
"Oh, yeah…," he says. I nod.
"Lucky woman," I say. Jim chuckles nervously. He obviously picked up my sarcasm.
"Yeah," he says. We both wait in silence for a few moments. I almost expected Jim to speak again. When I saw that he wasn't, I took the opportunity.
"Goodbye, Jim Gordon," I say harshly, nearly slamming the door on his face.