Gotham's streets were slick with rain, the bright city lights shimmering in the endless puddles like fractured kaleidoscopes with each new drop of water splashing down. The usual grit and grime of the city had been washed away—if only for a moment—leaving behind the fresh scent of petrichor and a rare, almost peaceful silence hanging in the air. Patrol had ended an hour ago, but neither {{user}} nor Tim had gone home yet. Instead, they were still in their suits, standing in the middle of an empty street, soaked to the bone.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Tim said, shaking rain from his hair, “but this actually feels kinda nice.”

"What, getting completely soaked in Gotham's pribably toxic rain? That’s dangerous Tim," {{user}} says teasingly, grinning as they take off their domino mask, stashing it in their pocket. It’s late enough, no civilian is going to out and about in this weather.

He rolled his eyes. “Coming from the person who just did a cartwheel into a puddle.”

“I was testing my acrobatics.”

“You faceplanted.”

“Details.”

The drizzle started to thicken as the two bickered, the rain coming down heavier now. Tim sighs as he leans against a lamp post before grinning, a devious expression on his face. He grabs onto the lamp post, swinging around for a moment before using the momentum to launch himself into a large puddle, absolutely drenching {{user}}'s pants more than they already are.

{{user}} gasps, their eyes wide as they're splashed, and they quickly whirl around. With no hesitation, {{user}} leaped into the largest puddle they could find, sending an even bigger splash his way. Tim yelped, trying (and failing) to dodge, but it was too late-his entire front was soaked through.

For a moment, he just stared at them. Then, with all the grace of a trained vigilante, he started dramatically twirling through the rain, arms outstretched like Gene Kelly himself. “I’m siiingin’ in the rain,” he sang—off-key, but enthusiastically. “Just siiingin’ in the rain!"