I found myself walking down the street towards the coffee shop on the corner. I was meeting John there for my lunch break. My black heels clicked against the sidewalk and I smoothed my black pencil. My dusty blue shirt had flowing ruffles that were partially hidden under my black jacket. I nervously pushed open the door, ringing the little bell to signal my entrance.

The shop was very quaint. There was a few people at some of the small tables, and I turned to see John appear from the corner, "There you are," he greeted, "I thought you got lost."

"Not quite," I chuckled, "I got released from lunch late today. Was distracted with work stuff."

"Well, coffee?" he asked, leading me to the front of the line.

"Um," I bit my lip, eyeing my choices, "Can I just have a…uh…small chai tea latte?"

"And you sir?" the barista asked John, and his response was totally predictable, "Small black."

"Why am I not surprised?" I asked, and he shrugged.

As I reached for my wallet, John already had his pulled out and was handing money for both of our drinks. "Hey!"

"Hey what?" he asked with a laugh, "I invited you at for coffee the least I could do is pay."

"Fine," I said, sitting down on one of the comfy green leather armchairs in the corner of the store, "How has work been?"

"Oh, fine, been a couple robberies. Really weird places too," his voice trailed off, "How about for you? How's the apartment hunt going?"

"Work is fine. Nothing too interesting going on as of right now," I sipped at my latte, "Unfortunately, I'm out of options on the apartment front. I either can't afford them or I'm not a suitable tenant for whatever reason."

The hotel was getting expensive. I'm not sure how much longer I can live there and keep feeding myself. I was secretly thankful that John had been his normal chivalrous self and paid for our drinks so I might be able to scrounge enough for the cab ride home.

"What do you mean?" John inquired, a bit unsettled by my lack of housing.

"I'm out of options…if I can't find someplace soon, I'm going to have to quit and find work someplace else," I sighed, "Gotham doesn't want me here. Always knew that."

"You can stay with me," John blurted suddenly, "I mean, I have a second bedroom…no one is using it. Rent's fairly cheap…What do you say?"

"When can I move in?" I knew it wasn't my best idea, but I could trust John. I may not have seen him for several years prior to my move back to Gotham, but I knew I could trust him. My gut told me it was a good idea, and that million dollar grin with the dimples was enough reason for me to keep agreeing to anything he suggested.

"When is your next day off?" he asked.

"Tomorrow," I stated plainly.

"Excellent, how much stuff do you have?"

"Not a whole lot," I admitted, "I have to wait for my next paycheck to go buy myself some furniture. I had hoped I would've found an apartment sooner…"

"Understandable, well I can pick you up tomorrow and we can get what you do have into the apartment, okay?"

I nodded, "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much."

"Can't leave a friend stranded!" he exclaimed with a laugh, "So text you tomorrow afternoon to figure out moving stuff?"

"Definitely," I said with a smile, "Good ol' Gotham. Still as awful as it used to be?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"No, things have gotten…better," he paused, "Honestly, the robberies have been the only unsolved crime the past few years."

"I suppose you're the reason for that?" I laughed, but my smile faltered as he shook his head, "What's been going on?"

"We had this…vigilante…He was trying to help, but no one understood that…But anyways, he brought hope to this city. We got a new DA. He was…ambitious. Had all kinds of plans for Gotham, but they fell apart…and he died, but his memory lives on, you know?" John sighed, "We have put so many behind bars because of his memory, but that vigilante was the one who killed him."

"Wow," she breathed, though she felt as if he was simplifying the whole situation, "But at least now you can put away people easier, right?" John nodded, "My job isn't that interesting in comparison."

"Yeah, what is it exactly that you do?" John inquired with a smirk as I glared at him.

"Communications specialist," I muttered, "I write press releases and things like that. Not the most thrilling of jobs, but at least it rolls in the money."

"Anything interesting in the market for you?"

"I suppose Dent Day…I never really understood what it was, but now that you explained it to me. I'm supposed to piece together information for the marketing department," I looked at my watch on my wrist before sighing, "I better get back to work."

I stood up, straightening my skirt some before turning to John, "This was nice."

"Yeah it was," he agreed, "Here, I'll walk you back to work."