Title: Food run
Prompt: #19, Separation Anxiety
Word Count: About three hundred and seventy words.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
A/N: This is closely tied to Batgirl #37. The relevant bit of the issue: Cain escapes from prison, leaves a gift for Cassandra, and then just waits at the prison's door to be taken in again. "Evening, gentlemen" he says to the guards as he walks in.
Carlos had one of the few thriving small-time food kiosks in Gotham. Insurance premiums were as deadly as crime, and the crooks in the Gotham City Health Board ran a close second, but Carlos compensated with a good network of suppliers, unique recipes, and a flawless memory for clients.
As the big white-haired man approached his kiosk for the second time in as many years, Carlos quickly prepared a tuna sandwich with black olives, two boiled eggs and a jar of orange juice. The man smiled as he took the sandwich -it was an scary smile, but then, almost as tall as the kiosk, he was an scary man- and ate slowly, obviously relishing it.
Carlos sensed that a bit of small talk wouldn't be amiss. It was another of his business talents.
"I don't see you very often, sir. Do you live near here?"
The man nodded and pointer over his shoulder in the general direction of the westside slums and the maximum security prison right off the coast. "I don't go out much, but had to run an errand today - give my daughter a package."
"A bad neighborhood, that, sir, even for somebody like you." The man shrugged. "Have you thought about moving out of Gotham?"
The man shook his head. "Can't. My daughter lives here. She doesn't visit very often, but I want to be near her just in case." Carlos, whose own daughter lived half a city away and visited him not twice a year, nodded in understanding. "Perhaps then a better neighborhood? I would miss your trade," he said without an ounce of irony, "but I'd feel better knowing that you are in a safer place."
The man finished eating his sandwich and cleaned his hands. "There'd be complications. I could solve them, but then my daughter would be mad at me. Madder." Both men shared a short smile.
"How much I owe you, Carlos?" asked the man.
"Three dollars for the sandwich, sir. The juice and the eggs, if I may, are on the house."
"Why, thanks. I'll be sure to come back the next time I take a stroll."
"That'd make me happy, sir."
With a polite nod, the man started walking back home.