11936/Lucy I'm Home

Lucy I'm Home
Date of Scene:	06 August 2020
Location:	Barbara Gordon's Apartment, Clocktower
Synopsis:	In the wake of the soft reboot of the bat continuity, Dick and Barbara set up the new normal and start to talk to each other about what's going on.
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Oracle

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Nightwing has posed:
    "Lucy, you crazy redhead, I am home." What's sad is Richard could go by Rick, but nope. It's Dick. Dick walks into the living area and hangs his keys up on the key hook. He's in gym clothes, meaning he left the Wayne Foundation and went to the gym. "Let me shower, and then it's my turn to cook, right?" It's never his turn to cook, she likes having functioning organs. Everything he makes is too spicy. Giving a little bark of a laugh, Dick lifts his hands. "I know. Dishes. If you get a free moment, I'll vacuum real quick too. Let me get unfunky."

    He takes off his shirt and drops it on purpose. "Oops." he leans over, pushing one butt cheek out at her as he picks up the shirt. "Silly me." With a wink, Dick heads off to the bathroom. Just another day in the Clocktower.

    The realization is subtle and washes over her slowly. His parents' picture on the wall. Him paying part of the bills. Him in her shower. He is maybe sleeping overnight in Bludhaven as many as three nights a week, and that is when he is working cases that go late. Her eyes sweep in a few things. Little things he 'brought' to 'make it a little more cozy'. Nothing distasteful. Some nice coasters; Alfred always demanded coasters be used. Some pictures. Little plastic totes in her bedroom full of his clothes.

    That sonofabitch has moved himself into her house!

Oracle has posed:
"Cute heiney!" she teases him, laughing as he goes. But as she turns, the thoughts hit her. She's been so busy in the past week following trails of kidnapped DEA agents and working on a personal request for Skye that she hasn't really noted it until now when she takes the time to look. Over the course of a couple of months, ?. Her Clocktower is *their* Clocktower. Barbara isn't entirely sure how she feels about this realization. She is still pondering it as she makes her way into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on food -- nothing fancy, just some pork satay and pineapple fried rice. It's an easy meal.

When he comes back out from the shower, she's setting bowls at the small kitchen table where they usually have their coffee. There's wine, but there's also sparkling water -- he's going back out. She hasn't decided yet if she's going out tonight. She's been splitting it lately, four nights out on the streets, three nights in the comms. It's not *honestly* that different for her -- she wasn't always an every-night patroller, and with so many on the streets now, it's not necessary for her either.

Barbara looks up as he meanders back in and quirks a copper eyebrow. "So who won the betting pool, you or Tim?"

Nightwing has posed:
    He does not bat an eye. "I totally did. He said you would figure it out way quicker than you did." Dick does not miss a beat. He is damp. His short cropped hair is in disarray and he is clad in only a loose shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. He pads about in bare feet and pauses. "I used your intellect against you. I moved things in slowly. Added little things. Comforts for you at first, then a few other things. I thought you would figure it out when I bought the new couch. Seemed like it was a little too obvious, but at that point I was far closer to my date than his. If you want the truth? I'm a few weeks past the date I picked."

    Dick pauses. "I can be gone tonight if that is your choice." Dick is not happy at the idea of it. Still, he is not the sort to ignore her wishes. "I removed a choice from you, and I am sorry. I? tried to make it easier to have me around than to not, and then just slowly eased things into place. I should be ashamed, but I am not. I'm not really sorry either. Tell me you are not happy with this, and it ends. It is that simple." His hands slide to her hips as he speaks. He smells like that soap he gets delivered from online.

    It gets delivered to this address.

Oracle has posed:
Barbara smirks. "You're not even a little bit sorry," she retorts. "And obviously it doesn't bother me or I'd have chucked you out on that *very* cute derriere a lot sooner, don't you think? I just?" She looks around at the touches that have softened what was a kind of utilitarian sort of apartment. She just never quite got around to unpacking all the way when she moved in. And now, most of the boxes that used to be in the dining room are gone -- because he got her to unpack them by asking where things were.

"Sneaky ass," she mutters good-naturedly, burying her nose against his shoulder. He smells good, like a healthy, athletic man fresh out of the shower. "Besides. I like the new couch. It's comfortable." He's found her sleeping on it a few nights waiting for him to get back.

Nightwing has posed:
    "I played dirty pool." Dick admits. "And no. I am not sorry for what I did, but I am sorry about how it can be taken. This was not about proving to you I was smarter, or something. I.. it was to make a home. It was for the both of us, and I would have done it in Bludhaven, but you saw one rat outside my building one time and you have never been back." Dick draws in a breath and releases it. "And that would have been easier. I own the building I could have built us something to suit. I get it you like it here?"

    ?Dick slowly pulls in another breath. "I like that this is not Bruce's house. Not that he ever really said no to anything I ever needed. I like that this is yours and it has kind of sort of become ours."

Oracle has posed:
Her expression goes soft and Barbara hugs him. "I know you'd rather do something in Bludhaven. It's? not really the rats." Even though that might be a bit of it. She hates the rats *so* much. "It's the city itself. I? need *home* to be someplace I don't have to worry too hard about." Because he knows she's going to have trouble 'turning off' sometimes. He's seen her do it already. The lure of information at her fingertips at all times is a powerful one for her. Of all the Bat's younglings, she is the one both most capable of this role and at the same time most likely to lose herself in it. She's a little bit like Bruce that way.

"It's space, and it's close to my father and the Manor." And she needs that proximity for a lot of reasons.

Nightwing has posed:
    "I have obligations in Bludhaven." Dick says carefully. He withdraws from her embrace, but not out of anything other than hunger. He sinks into his stool and pitches out his knee in an obvious invitation for her to perch upon it. "So I will need to keep what I have there. I need a place to crash at when I work late. I am not abandoning the city. I do work in Gotham still, and I will. I can do both. You and Tim both still need me around. Well, you need me to assist what you're doing. You are both perfectly capable of working your own cases. Sometimes you need another pair of hands. A lot of the cases I am following in Gotham have their roots in Bludhaven, and vice versa." He works his jaw for a moment. "Can you abide by that? It is more or less what we have now, but that was before you had it figured out."

Oracle has posed:
"Of course you have obligations in Bludhaven, and you *should* keep the place there. It's safer sometimes for you to crash there rather than try to get all the way here." It would be ridiculous NOT to have that place. Allowing herself to be tugged to his knee, Barbara is thoughtful. "We've got enough hands in Gotham -- not that yours aren't appreciated, but Bludhaven does need you more often. You might have someone in the BPD there you can count on too," she murmurs, distracted for a moment.

When her attention comes fully back to him, she says, "I ran into a BPD officer down here not long ago. Recognized her from the files we compiled. I want to dig a bit deeper, but? she's a Gotham native and managed to hold her own with Frank Castle staring her down, so? could be a good ally. And although it seems weird as hell, you've got the Slayer too." That had been a kick in the ass, meeting a *vampire slayer* in Bludhaven. Surreal!

Nightwing has posed:
    "Shit. You know about her? The Slayer. Yeah. I have a vampire slayer in Bludhaven. Smart girl. Dedicated. Clean, tight, efficient work." Dick starts to eat as he considers his words. It doesn't dawn on him that he used Batman's words. "She is part of why I have not let you have cameras some of the places you want. But if you know about her? what about we rope her in a little? Coordinate and protect. I know you are doing some of the little things for SHIELD, why not protect her as well?"

    Dick looks at her through his long eyelashes as he bites his bottom lip. "Seems to me we can be smart and careful and also a little more inclusive. I ran into Frank Castles a number of weeks back, when Harley escaped Arkham? He got the drop on me and kicked my ass. It's almost like fighting Bruce with guns, but he's going to murder people who he decides deserve it."

Oracle has posed:
"Yeeeaaaaah," Barbara grimaces. "I opted not to attempt to stop him when I ran into him. He's got someone on his payroll who's almost as good as I am. Called them 'Microchip.' He's been digging in Gotham's cold cases and following up. *He's* the one who grabbed the DEA agent." She grimaces. "Left me a way to leave a dead drop for him digitally?. But also warned me if we butt into his case while he's holding the agent, he'll just assume we're not on the same side." She sighs.

"I haven't told Bruce yet." Scratching the back of her head, she looks a bit abashed. "I really don't want him searching that guy down, if you want the truth."

"And yes, I agree on the Buffy Summers front. I ran into her a while back -- that night I had the docks patrol and you were chasing down the tanker truck? -- and just kept quiet so she could do her thing. She wasn't in your way and seemed to know you were out there, so..." It was a non-issue that he hadn't mentioned her. Barbara assumed he knew and left it at that.

Nightwing has posed:
    "We are not on the same side. He's a murderer." Dick says in a quiet voice. "There are accidents and civilian casualties that can happen. We've seen that with even the most cautious and principled individuals but Frank Castle is a murderer. He's a one-man execution crew, though apparently two if he has assistance from this Microchip person or persons." That is something he will remember. "We'll have to see if there is a way to scramble their signal. Let's see if we cannot see what the US military's standard procedure is on that? I am sure they have a protocol on which channels and wavelengths to jump to. Also let's see if Castle's units were known to deviate from that. He's had a doctrine drilled into him. Stress him and he will react in a predictable way."

Oracle has posed:
In this particular instance, they *might* be on the same side, but Barbara wasn't going to make that call without running past at least one of the two men who wear the cowl. "I'm deep diving into his military background now," she replies. "Most of it is classified to hell and gone." Not that it will stop her. A sly smile quirks her lips. "But I'll get it."