Re: Log, Gotham: Holly R/Jim G
Nothing was more pinned down anywhere in Gotham for anyone. Jim sipped at his coffee, undoctored, looking away from Holly when Christie brought out a plate, the color of dull enamel, and slid it in front of the girl in the purple boots. Pancakes dimed atop one another, butter sliding sideways as it melted and a pitcher of syrup—high-fructose and nothing from a tree, but good all the same. He sat back from the counter, mug replaced on formica.
"Been here long?" He turned his gaze back to Holly, level and blue.