The first of (hopefully) several for Halloween...
Title: Halloween's Different in Gotham
Author:
rileycFandom: Batman
Wordcount: 448
Rating: G
Characters: Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne
Genre: Holiday - Halloween
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: Warner Bros. and DC own them; I just play in the not-for-profit sandbox.
Summary: Jim's about to declare tricks-and-treats are over for the night when there's one last knock at the door...
Halloween was different in Gotham.
Halloween was too damn real in Gotham, for one thing. Even aside from that, what always got on Jim Gordon’s nerves was that moment when the knock came at the door and he had to stop and wonder what he would discover when he swung the door open. Maybe it was different for others in the city but even finding a four-foot tall Joker grinning up at him gave Jim the whim-whams for a split second because who the hell knew in this place?
He was about ready to declare that trick-or-treating was over for the night-it was almost nine-and put away the leftover candy when one last bam bam bam came at the door. He cracked the door open to verify it was trick-or-treaters and discovered a Nightwing, two Robins, and a Red Hood looking back at him. The Nightwing waved and smiled.
Disconcerted by that, Jim opened the door wide to a half-assed chorus of, “Trick-or-Treat!” The Red Hood managed to make it sound snarky, the smallest Robin barely even bothered; Red Robin made an effort but seemed embarrassed, and only the Nightwing seemed to really be into it.
“It’s getting a little late,” Jim said as he reached over to snag the jack-o-lantern bucket with the candy. “Are you boys out on your own?”
“God, I hope so,” the Red Robin muttered under his breath with an uneasy look back over his shoulder.
The smallest Robin gave Red Robin a look of disdain and held out his bag-he was the only one with a bag, Jim noted-and intoned, “Trick-or-Treat,” once more in a way that implied a truly horrendous trick would be forthcoming if treats did not immediately appear.
Suspicions notching up by the second, Jim duly dropped two Kit-Kats into the bag. He observed the bag was starting to bulge under its haul of treats.
“What do we say?” the Nightwing prompted.
The smallest Robin scowled back at him but then, grudgingly, told Jim, “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Better scoot along now, you don’t want to keep your father waiting.”
Uneasy, guilty looks were traded and the Nightwing said, “We’ll do that, sir. Have a good night.”
“You too.” Jim stayed at the door and watched them proceed back down the path. He bit his lip against a smile as they loitered on the sidewalk, glances tossed back at him and up and down the street. He took pity at last and stepped back inside. When he opened the door again thirty seconds later, they had all melted into the night like shadows.
He shut the door again and turned off the porch light.