Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
He vaults easily over the door into the bucket seat of a red ‘02 Thunderbird with its top down and hunkers low into his jacket. The pump is done running up. Dick stares at the numbers, grand total stuck halfway along its old analog ticker between one cent and the next.
Boots on concrete grit approach from the storefront blinking hot neon against the dark. Dick looks to the rearview and finds the edge of Slade’s reflection approaching, pausing to unrack the fuel nozzle and shut the cap before, tangible and right-way around again, he deposits with little ceremony a cellophane bag full of gas station sundries into Dick’s lap.
Slade opens and shuts the driver’s side door with pointed civility. He starts the engine. “Who do you think it says more about that you still have the taste of a teenager with too much allowance,” he muses with casual derision, setting the roof to close up over them given the cold drawn out past sunset, “you, or Wayne Enterprises?”