you've got to pay the toll

[bossymarmalade]

Bette is doing reps with free weights in the Watchtower gym. Perspiration gathers on her face, dampening her hairline and the top edge of her sleeveless yoga tank. She whispers the count to herself, "…Twenty-six… twenty-seven…" as she does them slow, isometrically.

Oliver finishes up inspecting the gutted HSR suite and secures it as he steps outside, tapping out a text to Bette: [TXT] finished the thing, meet where?

Bette hears her phone go off and dutifully finishes the rep before checking. "…Thirty." [Text] anywhere! in gym, should shower 1st, you pick place.

Oliver [TXT] cinema’s showing The Little Mermaid!

Bette [TXT] Be part of your world in ten!

Bette jumps up and hits the showers, and arrives at the small cinema shortly thereafter. She’s dressed back in her casual clothes - white mid-calf slacks, sandals, and a scoop-neck dark green top. “Hi there, oh bearded hugger, you."

Oliver scrunches his face up at her. “Bearded hugger?" he repeats, bemused. “What kind of weird nickname is that? It sounds like I’m either a species of coniferous tree or the neighbourhood flasher." He stands up long enough to wrap Bette in a big hug, then sits down again, handing her a tub of popcorn. “You only missed the opening fanfare," he tells her. “Whole movie still lies ahead."

Bette glances around the room. It’s them, and the two techs sitting in the very back row, left corner, and they’re clearly much more interested in one another than the movie. “You know, we could talk through this whole thing and no one would care. You ever seen MST3K?"



Oliver drops his head back, groaning. “I know the concept, even though I never got into the show," he says. “But Kate’s talked about getting, what is it — killed by a forklift? — enough times that I FEEL like I’ve seen it."

"Ah, haven’t seen that one either," Bette says. “Dick was really into it, and we watched several together. Fun stuff." She popped a few kernels into her mouth, watching a bit before asking, “Before I forget…you said earlier you were disassembling the HSR? You meant the hologram sim room thingy, right?"

"Yes indeed. That one was just a prototype anyhow, and we realized quickly that it wasn’t feasible for our needs and for the orbiting Tower." He balanced his own tub of heavily-buttered popcorn in his lap (Bette’s was buttered at a reasonable standard in comparison) and ate a handful of it. “Was it a feature you were interested in?"

"Um. Interested would be a pretty big understatement, really. I didn’t know it was temporary, or stopped being feasible, I just assumed it was staying… so I factored using it over the next several months as key in my training plan for the space jump. I didn’t know who I needed to book it with I figured it was just show up and use if it’s available." She shook her head, eyes on the screen, “First day I showed up to do a medium-alt dive, I couldn’t get it working. Kyle said it was all being removed, he didn’t know by whom, or why," she shrugged.

"Ahhhhhh, I see. Well, then, you’re in luck," Ollie tells her, “it’s being properly installed at an increased capacity down planetside, at Queen Tower. So as long as you’re all right with zeta’ing to Star City for your practise, you should be able to start doing it within … the next week or so? If the testing goes well."

"Really?" she squeaked, “You just moved it somewhere else? Oh heck, I’ll zeta anywhere to use it! Do you have any idea what a pain and a price real jumping that much would cost? And there’s the time and all the flying and equipment checks for every jump, and you’re lucky if you can do two or three in a day, at that rate…" She propped her popcorn on the seat next to her and flung her arms around Ollie while Ariel’s father berated her on the screen, “This is seriously the best news I’ve had all week…and what a week! Thank you, Ollie!" She suddenly remembered the week he had had, and loosened her grip on him, “Oh, oh, oh, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Sorry if I did…I forgot…"

Oliver chuckled. “No, no, I’m fine, don’t worry. Most of the bumps and bruises are healed up enough that an exuberant hug or two won’t hurt me one bit." He drank some of his soda (corn-syrup loaded cream soda was a weakness — the cane sugar type just wasn’t the same, dammit) and angled himself a little in his seat to look at her. “Only thing is that it’s in the part of Queen Tower that’s set aside for the League, so it’s sort of on the down-low," he explained. “As far as publicity goes, it’s not official support from Queen Consolidated."

Bette shrugs, “Queen who?" she winks.

"There we go!!"

"The public doesn’t need to know any details of any part of the jump or prep for it that would jeopardize the League’s security, don’t worry. And closer to the time, I’ll be able to let you know how QC can help with publicity. But at this point, there’s nothing yet to publicize." She curls her arm around his and kisses his cheek. “I can’t tell you what a load off my mind this is, though. You just shaved months off my schedule with this news."

Oliver nods, settling back down in his chair. “One thing at a time," he says comfortably. “So you’re still gung ho about this space jump thing, huh? Who’d you get for the R&D? Waynetech? STAR Labs?"

Bette keeps her eyes forward, “Still working on it."

Oliver sees that he’s touched on a sore subject, so he switches gears. “What else is up with the League PR gig, anyhow? I haven’t been keeping up with it as much as I should be, sorry to say."

"Oh, it’s understandable, I mean, look at the week you’ve been through! Our followers are still rising, we’re upwards of 11 thousand. And now that Guy is done in Hasaragua, I need to catch up with him and start posting pictures, he promised a bunch for the project. I expect things will jump quite a bit with that. I haven’t seen him around though, I should ask Kyle…" She looked back at Ollie, turning herself a bit to chat with him. “We’ve started getting more requests from the public for specific appearances…charity events, hospital visits, special support groups, asking for specific heroes, now…it’s picking up!"

"Oh, good, good, good." Ollie jiggles one of his knees as he nods. “Sometimes that kind of thing becomes a lot about MAKING events instead of reporting them, if you know what I mean — chasing down leads and suggesting activities and all that. I’m glad there’s enough going on that it’s not frustrating you to find things to talk about."

"Yeah, it only gets easier the more things we can report on that I can actually cover. All the public, unclassified stuff. I still suggest activities, but not as much pressure to do it now that things are hopping. Also people are tagging US now when they have a Leaguer ‘sighting’, and I retweet if it’s accurate and not a security problem, so that’s an added thing, now too…" She trails off, feeling like she’s exhausted the subject, but also, left something unsaid. “Hey, Ollie? Thank you," she met his eyes, “For believing in me. It means a great deal."

Oliver pats Bette’s hand, with its shiny scrubbed nails. “Hey," he says, “if people didn’t follow up on wild ideas that seemed crazy to everybody else, it would be a pretty dull world. Movers and shakers gotta support each other, huh?"

"That we do," she smiles at him. “And you’re right about another thing, too: ‘bearded hugger’ really is a terrible moniker. It sounds like a third-rate Gotham villain that ran out of ideas, or wasn’t really trying."

"Hah! Now you’ve made me kind of have a soft spot for it, Betsy. Better than, um … ‘emerald archer’ or ‘battling bowman’ or any of those other whack-ass nicknames for me, when you really think about it."

"Aw, I’ve always kind of like Emerald Archer. But now I want to come up with my own nickname for you. Something that speaks to you the person, not you the hero".

Oliver looks pleased. “I have always been unshakeably in favour of nicknames for all and sundry!"

"You’re the first to call me shaineh, that’s yours forever," she assures him. “One for you will come to me, eventually."

Oliver grins. “Shaineh maidel," he repeats dutifully, tugging a lock of Bette’s blonde hair. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had an opportunity to call anybody that. I’m glad you don’t mind it, from a WASP like me, heh."

"Not only don’t mind, Ollie, I’m really pleased. I can’t speak for all Jews, but me, personally, I don’t find it appropriative or offensive. It’s like when I teased Dick and called him the Goy Wonder. It’s all about intent, as far as I’m concerned."

Oliver nods and is quiet for a little while as they watch Ursula make a deal with Ariel for her voice. “Is that an old nickname for him?" he asks finally, then tacks on by way of explanation, “for Dick, I mean. Titans-era?"

"Oh, no, I’d never dream of it back then. In fact, I didn’t even know his real name. I don’t think many of us did. But I didn’t call him anything but Robin or Nightwing in those days." She smiles fondly at the memories. “It is…was…a very new nickname for him."

"A lover’s nickname, then?"

"Actually, I called him Goy Wonder not long after I joined the League last year. When he and I kind of settled our old wounds, and became good friends. My lover’s nickname for him was just ‘goyfriend’."

"Multipurpose little word, that." Ollie takes in a long breath and lets it out. “They lose their prickle eventually, pet names. Lover’s names. Until it’s just the poignancy left, and it’s not so bad anymore. You might even use them for different people, eventually."

Bette finds herself leaning on his shoulder. “I hope so. Sooner rather than later. By the way, your wife gives excellent breakup advice. Really. It’s been a lot easier for me to handle Dick being back since I spoke to her."

Oliver feels a thrill of pleasure when Bette mentions Kate, which isn’t at all unusual but it warms his voice when he speaks. “Kate tends to give excellent advice on many topics, much more than she’s willing to cop to," he agrees. “Which is honestly the best kind of advice. People like me who hand it out unsolicited aren’t all that good at it in the long run, heh. But anyhow—" he tips his head briefly to bump against Bette’s, "—easier for you to handle, huh? Is it upset or anger or something in between?"

Bette hums with the contact, comfortable next to him. “A lot of things at once. When I first saw him, right before…well, the island prison incident, I wasn’t expecting it, and I had what I could only describe as a panic attack. Then the next was right after you punched Kyle…" she glanced at him, trying not to judge. It was none of her business, after all. “I shied from him. and then later that night he tried to talk to me, and I was rather brutal with him in my honesty about not getting back together. By the time I saw Kate, I was feeling guilty, and really conflicted, and even fighting temptation to take him back."

"Take him back? Is that what … are you considering that, taking him back?" Oliver blinks, but then adds, “I guess the idea is ‘maybe in time things could work out’. That seems to be how Dick sees it."

Bette is about to explain to Ollie that no, she doesn’t want that, or want to want that, when she hears him quote Dick. “Wait…you’ve spoken to Dick about this?"

"Sure I have. I mean, not that I’m intending to spread gossip or anything, don’t worry, I won’t tell you anything that’ll make you feel like I’m breaking his confidence. It’s likely all stuff you know already, anyhow."

"Him wanting to get back together is news to me," she tells him, “All he’d said to me was that he never meant to hurt me, and he wanted to make sure I was okay. I thought I made it pretty clear I wasn’t, and that we were done, and this was his decision." She inhales, letting it out in a sigh as the mute mermaid tried to get the boy to ‘kiss the girl’ in the lagoon. “And no, I don’t want to take him back. He didn’t feel for me all along what I felt for him."

Oliver winces. “I feel like I misspoke there," he clarifies, holding up his hands. “It wasn’t so much ‘I want to get back together’ as ‘I don’t want to make a solid decision and look like the bad guy’."

Bette tilts her head, curious. “What decision is that, exactly?"

"You know. How it’s easier to say “oh yeah, maybe someday we can get back together, if the stars align and we’re meant to be" than “I kinda fucked that up and it’s good that we’re broken up now". That kind of thing." Oliver shrugs. “Some people are profoundly uncomfortable when their ideas of themselves get upended."

Bette feels her shoulders slump. Dick had hope. And she doesn’t have it in her to tell him there was none. “You mean Dick’s idea of himself? Can you elaborate?"

"Well, I mean — you were with him and you’ve been in love with him for ages and ages. How d’you think he sees himself?"

"I haven’t been close to him since we broke up. He was a mess when he left for Japan, and from what little I can tell, he seemed better when he got back. So…how he sees himself, right now, I can only guess but I imagined he’s more stable, and regretting hurting me and the thins he said, and he’s just putting his life back together…" Bette continues, “Maybe going back to Guy, since he still is in love with him?"

"No, I don’t mean that so much as … how Dick would describe himself. In general, as a person, regardless of depression or relationships or breakups. The persona that he inhabits, the Dick Grayson he presents to the world. The Dick Grayson you saw and fell in love with. Even back before there was a realistic chance of you being together."

Bette felt her gut twist. She didn’t want this - to think about the boy she fell in love with: the leader, performer, detective, inspiration. The Boy Wonder. “He…would describe himself as a good person…a loyal friend…he’d describe himself as loving and brave and happy…" Bette feels she’s missing adjectives.

"Right. So in order to comprehend himself as a person who’d conduct his relationship with you in the way he did, that’s quite a paradigm shift."

"And therefore, he’s feeling guilty. I could tell that much." She doesn’t sound heartless, just affirming Ollie’s argument. “But Kate advised that I should limit my sympathy for him to that of a colleague, insofar as he made bad decisions before. It must be very difficult for him, poor guy."

Oliver snorts. “I wasn’t particularly trying to get you to feel sorry for him, kiddo," he says. “Just elaborating on what I meant about Dick’s idea of himself. He’s used to seeing himself one way, his behaviour forced him to see himself in another. So he’s still trying to reconcile the two. It’s something a lot of people go through, is all. Whether or not it’s a positive growth or they try to crawl back into a persona that doesn’t fit anymore, that’s the crux of it."

"I…no, I understand, it’s just…I don’t think he lied on purpose. He didn’t set out to hurt anyone. How can you be so sure he’s really all that different a person than he was before?" asks Bette. “His behaviour was temporary, not…defining. He was depressed."

"Depression doesn’t really work that way, Bette. It doesn’t change your entire personality or anything."

"That’s my point," she replies. “He shouldn’t be seeing himself differently, because the depression didn’t change him."

"Okay, okay. I clearly shouldn’t have brought up Dick as a subject anyhow, that was my mistake."

"Oh, Ollie…I’m not picking a fight with you. This is all right." Bette adds, “You think he’ll be all right, though, right?"

"It depends on him, really. If he tries to go back to pretending and wearing masks, or if he accepts that sometimes yes, even Dick Grayson can be a shitheel just like the rest of the human race, and forgives himself and moves ahead."

Bette opens her mouth to defend him, but catches herself. Old habits die very hard. “I see what you mean, yes…well, let’s hope he can do that…"

"It’s not the end of the world, realizing that you’re not the person you thought you were."

Bette watches Ariel’s heartbreak on the screen as the Prince tells his father he wants to marry another woman immediately. The panic on Ariel’s face, her sacrifice suddenly meaningless, her terror at her plans suddenly going completely awry…the love of her life loving another. That’s what it feels like, she thinks. “I guess it depends on who you thought you were to begin with, huh?"

Oliver closes his eyes for a moment, his mouth drawing sharply down before his expression goes back to its usual set. “Yes," he says, eventually. “And how violent the realization is."

Bette touches his shoulder gently, studying his face. “How violent was yours?" she whispers, her voice filled with compassion and concern.

Oliver shakes his head a little. “I’ve had a few," he says, his voice a bit more hoarse. “They just started early." He takes a breath and then offers Bette a small smile. “No worse than half the people we know, anyhow. Hardly worth mentioning."

Bette feels him holding back, but she doesn’t push him. She leaves him his dignity, as much as her compassion will allow, and leans in, hugging him tightly. “As you wish, Ollie," she says softly, “I won’t mention it….other than to say, I like you as you are right now, and I hope you do too."