risk assessment

[bossymarmalade]

[TEXT] Good morning Boy Wonderful

Dick checks his phone at its buzz. [TEXT] And good morning to you! I was just talking about you.

[TEXT] That would explain why my ears are burning.

[TEXT] Talking about you in the most kind and loving way, I assure you!

[TEXT] Consider me assured!

[TEXT] Wanna meet up for lunch? Thought maybe we could talk.

[TEXT] Could do. I thought you were moving into the Manor today?

[TEXT] Yeah, later today. I’m still flitting about the Watchtower for now, heh.

[TEXT] Dick Grayson does not flit. He strides fluidly in awesomeness.

[TEXT] Feel free to use that. *wink*

( reprise )

dinner for two

[bossymarmalade]

Bette arrived just a few minutes past six, the time Dick had invited her by. It was still too early in their trial relationship for a LBD, so she settled on deep red blouse over a light grey skirt - something enticing enough for Dick, and conservative enough for Alfred and Damian.

Alfred greeted her at the door, the perfect gentleman’s gentleman. He graced her with an ideal mix of formality and familiarity that set her at ease while acknowledging this was a “real” date and not just pizza and a DVD watched together on the couch. It might have just been Alfred’s gratitude to her for catching Dick when he fell and helping him back up again, but she had a sense that although this man wasn’t likely to tell her his opinion this early on, he approved of her seeing Dick.

She surrendered her coat to him and let him guide her to Dick. Thinking of Alfred’s approval reminded her of another possible obstacle, and perhaps the most important one of all: Damian. Had Dick told him yet? What would the boy’s reaction be? It hadn’t been favorable before when he mistakenly believed Dick and Bette were having an affair, and after eavesdropping on their private conversations had wrongly deduced that Bette was pregnant with Dick’s baby. Then there was the time before that, when he realized she had feelings for Dick and was trying to get his attention - Bruce’s son had humiliated her in front of half the League at a backyard gathering.

Well, I’ve got one thing in my favour, she thought grimly. I’m not Guy Gardner. Damian really objected to that relationship, from what Dick’s told me. Made things impossible for them both every chance he got. I want to avoid that, but I also don’t want to make Dami feel threatened, either…

“Miss Kane has arrived, Master Dick.”

( a very nice evening )

moon sweep

[bossymarmalade]

Kyle waited for Steph in the Hangar Bay of the Watchtower. Sure, it was a little tedious to have to take a little shuttle to the moon, a la Star Trek or something, instead of just being able to fly there. He would’ve been able to with another Lantern or by himself; but he didn’t want to put Steph in any risk. And given how low-powered his ring was even after being changed, even a passing yellow satellite could send him into a potential tailspin.

As per usual, he did the small, hopeful check within himself to see if Ion would ping back. And as per usual, nada. Ion was dormant.

It was getting embarrassing now.

Fortunately, there was no better way to hide from the wrath of the Guardians and the disappointment of his fellow Lanterns, than engaging in some good old fashioned Justice League routine procedures.

Well, for him it was routine. For Batgirl, it was gonna be a thrill and a half. Kyle was betting on her excitement to pull him out of his slump. She had a great knack for that.

( the best story about carrots you will ever read )

peace offering

[bossymarmalade]

The frigid wind bites at his nose and ears as Damian takes the sidewalk to Brown’s apartment. He’s not one for cold weather in the first place, and he’s still not enthusiastic about visiting Brown anyway. He knows what she wants to discuss, and he’s determined she won’t change his mind.

But the promise of kittens waiting to greet him compels Damian to complete his journey until he’s standing at Brown’s door. “I’m only here for the cats,” he reminds her when the door swings open. He moves past her into the apartment, shedding his coat and gloves and rubbing his fingers to warm them. Despite the frosty weather outside, he adds, “And I’ll have my grape popsicle now, too.”

Steph had hardly opened the door when Damian breezed by her. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes with considerable effort, she handed him the grape popsicle. Getting into another argument would be counterproductive at the moment. “Hello to you, too,” she did say with some sarcasm. Hey, she couldn’t totally smother the sass.

Frankie had come scampering in from the kitchen at the sound of someone at the door and took to sniffing Damian’s pant leg thoroughly, probably smelling his own pets on him. Apparently approving, the grey cat nuzzled the boy’s calf, demanding attention. Steph saw Audrey on the couch snoozing in a sunbeam and smiled, shaking her head minutely. “Come on, let’s at least be civil. Stay for a quick dinner. Neither I nor my cats will bite you. Probably,” she joked, trying to get Damian to loosen up so this wouldn’t be so much like pulling teeth.

( why can't we have both? )

ad vitam paramus

[bossymarmalade]

Jason Blood sat at his computer terminal begrudgingly pecking out an electronic message. He hated these infernal machines. Jason preferred a nice pen and paper. Hell, he preferred a quill and parchment over a keyboard. But the League had outfitted him with this thing and if he had to communicate with them, this was the way.

Queen -
I’ve been in a few libraries. Researching. The two things I keep coming across connected to your Latin phrase are whispers of an occult cult and the word ‘wampir’. Have you or anyone you know been to Poland lately? We might need to talk.
- Blood

Jason sent the message to the Emerald Archer and turned off his computer. He figured that if anyone wanted to contact him, they could use the commlink.

Frowning at the email, Ollie started composing a reply before deciding this wasn’t the most effective way to communicate with the likes of Jason Blood. Carrier pigeon would be more likely to elicit an enthusiastic response.

Making a mental note to install a pigeon cote on the patio (it would be a diverting experiment, if nothing else), Ollie toggled on his JLA comm to Blood’s assigned frequency. “Blood, still alive out there?”

( laurel and hardy they're not )

coffee and doughnuts

[bossymarmalade]

[Text] 3pm @ Treehouse it is! We can talk way more freely there, anyway! Sending the coords now. Look for a big tree growing out of the roof, you can’t miss it!

Bette popped out to the store to get something to snack on with their coffee. Finger food, nothing too formal…banana bread? Oh, come on Bette it’s coffee with Kyle, not a tea party at your aunt’s place. Doughnuts! What guy doesn’t like doughnuts? Besides, he’s a cop! I’ll get a variety pack of doughnut holes, hopefully he’ll like that.

She returned home, set up the coffee maker so all she had to do was switch it on when he showed up, and tidied up a little. Bette and Kate hadn’t entertained much, at least not since Bette moved in; pretty much Dick and Diana had been their only guests. Kate’s reclusiveness aside, their home was too small for parties anyway, since the lower level and part of the upper level was taken over by their HQ. Upstairs only had space for the kitchenette and table, the living room/exercise room/Bette’s partitioned ‘room’, Kate’s room and the bathroom. Still, it was cozy. And on nights when Kate wanted to have Diana over, it was a simple matter for Bette to spend the night up at the Watchtower.

She set out the doughnut holes on a plate on the coffee table and glanced at the clock. He’d probably be here any minute.

( no homers allowed )