InkAthan request drabble - Amber

Two mismatched eyes stared out of the rain-battered window sadly, watching the heavy storm pour down over the city in a gloomy sort of way.
“What’s the matter, Ink?” came the abrupt question behind her.  She heaved a small sigh of defeat, slumping forward with a sad groan.
“It’s raining.”
“Ideal weather for my work,” Jonathan responded idly, moving between two of his tables as he poured over notes for a formula and stirred ingredients accordingly within a beaker, “Chances are more likely that I shan’t be bothered, and nobody will come calling in these conditions.”  He glanced over at her, noticed the window, and squinted slightly.  “Were you expecting someone?”
“No,” she mumbled unhappily, crossing her arms, “But the weather report said it was going to be sunny today.”
“Weather reports can be wrong.” He said distractedly, setting down the beaker and taking up a random writing implement to scratch out a line on his page of formulas.  “And this is Gotham; we seem to have some magnetic polarity suited to ideal storm conditions.”
“You aren’t making that up, are you?” She asked suspiciously, and when he shrugged, her eyes darted back to the rain lashing the windows, her mouth twisting somewhat bitterly.  “Do you even remember what day it is, Jon?”
“Tuesday.” He replied automatically.
“Right,” she said, walking over and half-sitting, half-falling into a chair, “And do you remember what we had planned for this Tuesday?”
He paused in the middle of writing, frowning as he tried to remember, and then sudden clarity dawned on his face and he let out a small groan.
“The picnic.”
Ink nodded glumly.  “The picnic.  I was so excited for it, too.”
He watched her for a long moment, frowning in sympathy.  Then, setting down his work, he got to his feet and held out his hand.  Sniffling slightly, Ink took his offered hand, which was warm to the touch, and he led her from the room to the outer hallway.  Rain continued to pound, and in the distance, there was a low peal of rolling thunder.
“I take it you must have told Ulysses about the picnic.”
“Well, yeah, but how did—“
He shook his head and let her to the cafeteria break room, where he indicated she needed to open the fridge.  Ink’s eyes went wide as excitement began to build in her chest, and she yanked the fridge door open, to reveal a plethora of food inside.  And what was more; it was nearly everything she had wanted for the picnic with Jonathan.
“Aww, Twitch!” Ink said, unable to keep a smile from her face as she realized what the shaky, timid older man must have done.  She looked away from all the food and back up to Jonathan, whose face flushed pink as he tried to remain looking as impassive as ever.
“Well,” he said, somewhat awkwardly, “If we’re going to have our picnic still, we’d best get to setting it up in here, hadn’t we?”
Beaming, Ink moved away from the fridge, just long enough to seize Jonathan in a tight, squeezing bear hug of affection and growing joy.