The city was beyond stifling. The heat of the summer had already hit with full force. And Ed felt as though he was cooking in his own skin. The air in the apartment was thick and heavy, and must be, to his imagination anyway, what it was like to be in an oven. The forensic investigator sure that he was self-basting in his own sweat. And this was the dead of night.
The days were proving even worse. Even though the sun, and good weather in general, seemed to make people happier in one sense. It also made them worse in another. The rising temperature, appearing to be in direct correlation with the rise of tempers. Ed sure that since the sun had shown its face in all its glory, he had heard the wail of more sirens than normal. The flash of blue and red lights indicating another fire. Another fight. Or something worse. The new crime wave that the increased temperatures seemed to generate, keeping him and the rest of the GCPD busier than they normally were. Ed sure that he had more bodies on the slabs than he had ever had before. Though if there was one thing good about the long hours that he was having to spend in the lab catching up on all the backlog, it was that at least in the morgue, it was cool.
Turning over in the bed for what felt like the hundredth time that minute, Ed knew that there was no way he was going to get any sleep. Not that he was actually expecting any, but still. He had thought about going for a cold shower, but remembered that he had already had two. Yet he needed to do something. Something that would take his mind off the oppressive heat. Something that could get him out of the furnace, that was his apartment. But what? There was no way that he was going to go for a walk. Gotham was dangerous enough during the day, never mind the night. Bad guys didn't stop being bad guys when the mercury in the thermometer rose. And he really wasn't in the mood to be mugged, beaten up, or maybe something worse. So, what else was there? Then it came to him. The roof. It wasn't much, most of it was covered in pigeon crap, from the flocks that called the city home. But maybe at the top of the building there could be a wisp of air. A slight breeze. Anything. But even if there wasn't, it couldn't be any worse than staying in the oven of an apartment. Ed sure that the thin sheet that covered him, was getting damper even with him just lying there.
With a heavy sigh, he peeled off the wet sheet. Using it to wipe his brow, before pulling on his old, thin pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. In truth, he wished that he could just make his way up to the top of the building in only his shorts. But even at this time of the night, he had a feeling that Misses O'Connor at the end of the hall, would still be spying on him and get him locked up for indecent exposure. Ed shuddering at the idea that if the old woman did call the precinct, that it would be sure to be either Gordon or Bullock that would come to arrest him. The scientist having a feeling that he would never be allowed to live the incident down.
Ed groaned as he opened the door to his apartment. He had thought that his humble dwelling was bad enough. But the halls and stairwells seemed to be storing the heat. As if the bricks of the building were trying to suck up as much of the warmth as possible, so that they could save it for when the weather turned back to its usual inclement self.
He had had second thoughts about taking the elevator to the roof. Ed deciding that the effort of climbing the stairs was preferable to being locked, even if only for a few seconds, in that grumbling, rattling, and groaning hot box. Remembering that he had never liked being couped up in that death trap anyway.
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With a heavy, relieved sigh, Ed finally reached the top of the building. His damp palm pushing on the small door that led to the roof. His skin suddenly kissed by the slightest breath of a breeze. A soft smile gracing his lips as he felt a sense of relief from the oppression within the building's walls.
As he made his way over to the corner of the building, his eyes fell on the silhouette of another figure. A being that sat, perched on the wall overlooking the city, like an ever vigilant sentinel watching over the metropolis for any sign of danger. Really, he had hoped to have the roof to himself, yet he should have guessed that he wouldn't be the only one to have the need to escape the confines of the building. And when he saw who the figure was, he didn't mind having the company.
Oh (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n). Ed was sure that he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Even the statues of the ancient goddesses in the museum, paled in comparison to the exquisite features of (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n). No painting. No sculpture. No work of art created by even the greatest of the masters, could compete with the woman that was currently sat on the wall. Her eyes firmly fixed on the flickering lights of the great metropolis. And not only was she beautiful, but she was sweet too.
They had spoken a few times in passing. Ed even finding that he was able to not get too nervous when she would say, hi, as they checked for mail. Or when she would ask him about his day, as they travelled up in the elevator together. (Y/n) seeming to be interested in everything that he had done. And in everything that he had to say. Never getting too squeamish as he would accidentally say something about a dead body. Ed always blushing and apologising for forgetting himself and giving her all the gory details. (Y/n) never failing to reply, that she didn't mind. And then changing the subject by asking him if he had any more of his wonderful riddles. Even the other day she had come to his rescue when Misses O'Connor had decided that he needed reprimanding for something, that Ed was sure wasn't even his fault. (Y/n) sending the older woman away with a flea, though be it a pleasant sounding and well worded flea, in her ear. Telling him that he shouldn't worry about the old lady. And that sooner or later, all the Misses O'Connor's of the world, get their comeuppance.
And now, now in the dead of the night. With no one else to watch, or judge. He knew that he finally had the chance to really talk to (Y/n). To try and get to know her better. To ask if he could get to know her better. And hopefully, with no one else around, he wouldn't mess things up completely and make a fool of himself. Or say something that he had to apologise for. So, if he could just make his stubborn legs to make their way over to her, he might at least get to say, hello.
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Gotham Imagines and One Shots
FanficA little bit of everything all rolled into one. I am a big fan of Gotham and this is my first book dedicated solely to the Gotham boys, so this is a collection of imagines of some of my favourite characters. Most imagines will be fluffy, smutty, or...