The world blinked white, then gradually adjusted to the sharp, insistent glare of the Bat Signal. Gordon's hands were steady on the switch where he'd just flicked it on, despite the anxiety swirling in his gut. Maybe he really had lost it. What was he doing on the GCPD's rooftop in the black of night, trying to draw out the Bat? It felt like summoning a demon.

His fingers tightened around the edge of the coffee-stained manila case file in his hand, scarred knuckles whitening. Just as surely as he knew he was crossing a line, he knew it was one that had to be crossed. The weight of his responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders. He'd do anything to make the city a safer place for his daughter... even try to work with the vigilante that had been a pain in his ass for the last year.

Jim inhaled deeply, taking a long drag from the cigarette that dangled between his lips to soothe his anxiety.

He felt your presence before he saw it--the faintest shift in the air just a few feet behind him, like the crackle before a storm. It sent a chill down his spine. He fought the urge to reach for his gun.

The commissioner cleared his throat awkwardly, deep voice roughened by the smoke in his lungs.

"I knew you'd show up." He turned slowly, trying his hardest not to scare you off. Even with the lights from the Bat Signal cutting through the dark, your figure still seemed to dissolve into the night. "I'm not trying to arrest you. I..."

The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. "I need help. With a case, that is."