Encrypted <?> (Edward Nashton x Reader)

Pilot

    1:30 and your shift will end. At least that's what he promised. Gordon was never too leanient with times. At points, you'd be home at 5:00 pm, or 2:00 am. Eyelids heavy, stacks of paper, and the smell of stale coffee. How much better could life get? You're working with Batman, (sorta) and on the case of the most infamous villian in Gotham.

Thats the dream.

Finally giving into the longing pull of sleep, those eyes could finally rest. Running off of 2 hours of sleep is decently difficult. Ever since the murders began, that's all you've been getting.
Gordon wouldn't mind,

Yeah, it's all fun and games until the callused hand of Batman's #1 is on your shoulder.

"Tired?" He questioned.

No answer, only a small murmur.

"That's alright, go on home, I'll have someone else take care of it." a reasurring pat followed his words, he then trotted off to find some other sucker to take care of filling.

Gathering up small bits and bobbles of tonights work, something was missing. Scanning your mind, the answer was a drink. Hot? Or cold? Alchoholic? Sweet? The answer was collected almost immediatly.

It was a fine night, a little drowsy, but pretty nice for Gotham. The cafe across the street was open, its neon sign burning your poor pupils. Lugging yourself in, and practically plopping yourself on a stool at the counter took much more effort than you'd prefer to admit. After all, it was early morning.

After a seemingly long 5 minutes, a waitress, probably about 17 years old, wandered over to you. "What can I get you, sugar?"

"A cup of coffee will do, thanks."

She scribbled on her notepad and veered away to the kitchen.

Sighing, you grabbed the newspaper on the next stool. Suprisingly, it wasn't all that dirty. Popping it open, the title stating: GOTHAM MAYOR KILLED, WHATS NEXT FOR THIS CITY? Oh boy. Another super fun coverage about the event that happened almost a week ago. Although, it's fun knowing you have more coverage on this than the reporters. They just need something to go off of. If any of those papers you'd worked on had leaked to the public, we'd have months worth of juicy gossip. And distressed people. Can't forget them.

All the daydreaming must have made you forget reality, becuase right infront of you lay a cup of coffee. Luke warm.
    Goodie.

Just what you needed. a slightly warm cup of coffee to kick off the night. Gordon had said you could take the night off, but that was most likely keyword for "go work at home, you can maybe squeak an hour or two of sleep in there". You weren't complaining though. An extra hour would be like opening a present on the holidays.

A packet of sugar, dash of cream, and a pleasant sip later, everything was back to normal. You'd probably have two hours before passing out on the couch at home. Glancing at your watch, (ironically, it's a well working Batman watch from Target. You can thank Gordon for that) it read 1:25.
    I'll finish, pay, and head home. I'm too tired to deal with anymore of this Mayor shit.

The last gulp was taken, and a few quarters were left on the counter. Although, something about this place made you want to linger for just a minute more. Was it comforting? Not in the least. Clean? Nope. So what was it?
   
The bell on the door interupted your thinking. Someone walked in. But it was 1:25 in the morning, who could possibly be out at this time? Whoever he was, you weren't about to find out. That was, until he sat right next to you. He propped up his out newspaper, and orderded a coffee and a slice of pumpkin pie. He glanced over at you, only to find the empty cup, newspaper, and an invested person reading it.
  
"That murder guy's really crazy," He stated.
  
The hell? It's too early for this. You could barely talk to the waitress, much less this random dude who seems to be a sitting a little too close for comfort.
  
"Hope nothing else happens to Gotham. I love this place too much to leave." He said.
  
"Yeah, it would be a shame."
   
He continued with nothing else, and began finishing the article on the mayors unexpected death. Slowly flipping through pages, and drippling the outside's rain onto the counter.
  
"Anyways, I hope I'm not bothering you too much, but why are you out here so late? It's really unsafe at this hour." The mysterious (supposedly) man questioned.
  
"Finally got off of work. Figured I'd go out for a cup of coffee before heading home."
  
"Good choice, this is my favorite diner. Their pumpkin pie is to die for."
   "Mhm"
  
"Well anyways, it seems like you're getting ready to leave. It was wonderful making your acquaintance," He guestured, hoping for you to expose your name.
  
"Y/N."
  
"Oh lovely to meet you, Y/N. I'm Edward." Edward gave his hand to you, and you shook it firmly.
  
"I ought to be off, good meeting you too." Grabbing your things, you departed from the diner and watched as Edward waved to you. Wave back? What's the harm. A small guesture can't kill you.
   
The rain was plesant. The walk home was too. No roberies, no kidnappings, it was quite, peacefull.

904 words

A/N
I'm not fully aware of the correct timeline for this, so wing it with me here. Anyways, here's the pilot episode. Hope you enjoyed!

- Luca