2940/An Unexpected Turn

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An Unexpected Turn
Date of Scene: 23 October 2017
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: It was supposed to be drug dealers and butt-kicking, but it went pear-shaped in more ways than one.
Cast of Characters: Oracle, Nightwing




Oracle has posed:
The darkest part of the nght is the best time to catch sight of a bat seeking prey. The rooftops of Old Gotham especially seem to hold great fascination with this crowd -- perhaps because of the myriad places to crouch and blend in with the gargoyles that top many buildings here? Whatever the cause, this night finds the first 'daughter' of the Bat swinging from the side of a skyscraper onto the crenellated roof of the cathedral. The graveyard that spreads out from the building is a historic landmark, but lately it's become the haven of dealers.

Her boots make little noise as they land on her chosen niche and she settles in to wait. No telling if tonight will bring the people she's looking for out here, but perhaps. She briefly touches her ear and murmurs her stakeout location into the subvocal comm, leaving the record on the supercomputer in the Cave just in case she gets into trouble.

Nightwing has posed:
The first (and best? Maybe?) former Robin lands beside Batgirl and settles into his own perch with practiced ease. At one time they did this regularly, and had fallen into a regular rhythm with one another, like dance partners. Dick has been away more, though, and his work in Bludhaven has caused this latenight excursions to be shared between them on a less regular basis.

This, though? This is good.

He frowns to himself as he peers down into the old cemetary. Mist clings to the headstones and crypts, as if Lugosi or Chaney Jr were about to lurch into view and bring the rest of October with them. "Well, one thing I do not miss about Gotham?," the man whispers to his companion. "Criminals with a sense of flare. Old cemetary. In Bludhaven it'd be a crackhouse. Here, it's a crypt. Seasonal, though. I'll give them that."

He flashes the woman a lopsided grin.

Oracle has posed:
Muscle memory and familiarity are amazing things. The night has been their playground for a long time. Flashing him a grin, Batgirl murmurs, "Well, you know I can't ignore a good ghost story. When I started hearing rumors about the old graveyard having spooky lights and stuff floating around, I was so excited." She sighs theatrically. "Alas, it turns out to be only dumb drug dealers." Shaking her head, she purses her lips. "So disappointing."

With their targets having not yet appeared, she shifts her weight slightly to settle into a better long-term crouch so as not to freeze up her muscles. "We should have dressed as gargoyles and swooped in from the steeple on them. Think they'd pee themselves?" she mulls aloud.

Nightwing has posed:
"Pity. I could use a break from 'dumb drug dealers'. I swear they make up the majority of Bludhaven's population. They might as well just be dealing to eachother at this point." He glances over to watch her shift to a better position, and the man follows suit.

He smirks a bit at that. "Fear. Always been the old man's way. I prefer style." He's teasing, of course. He butts heads sometimes with the Batman, but...deep down...he is dad. "Anything noteworthy in town lately? Been up to anything fun? Any fun dates or scuffles?"

Oracle has posed:
She smothers a laugh behind her gauntlet. "Right... because dating is a real priority for our crowd," she quips softly. There's a long moment's pause when she turns her head to look out over the cemetary. Unlike both he and Batman, she hasn't yet upgraded to lenses in her mask... though admittedly, she's considering it. She absently raises one hand as if to push an errant lock of red hair back off her shoulder, only the cowl keeps her hair out of her way. It's one of her tells, that movement. She's not sure about how to answer that.

"Nothing noteworthy," she tells him. "Aside from all the usual stuff... crazy alien invasions and what-all else. It's funny... between New York's craziness and ours? I can't even be surprised by that kind of crap anymore."

Nightwing has posed:
He can read her decently after much of a lifetime together. He knows those little tells. He turns away to peer out over the cemetary, taking it all in silently for a long moment. "Ah, right. The invasion, of course. Still fixing some of the damage to Bludhaven...which is letting some of the crooks buy up property and legally get ahold of new turf. It's bad there. Worse then usual, because of it." He shrugs a finely muscled shoulder and glances back over at her.

Oracle has posed:
Slanting him a glance, she catches him looking. And beneath the cowl, she blushes, knowing she's caught. "Oh fine," she says on a sigh. "So... I did something for you that I'm not sure you're going to be thrilled with. And I don't know if it'll pan out. But... I did it anyway. You're not allowed to get mad at me." She looks sternly at him. "Someone I know may be able to reach Richard Dragon. She's making some calls."

Because she *told* him that she wasn't going to tell Batman, but she *didn't* say she was going to just let him work it out alone. And if he won't take help from Damien, well... she'll do what she's got to.

Headlights cut through the fog rising in the cemetary. They stop out near the main gate, though. Far enough away that although she shifts to readiness, she doesn't just fly off the roof.

Nightwing has posed:
He is certainly surprised. She can tell in the way he briefly shifts his stance, and in the way his lips briefly purse. Whether he is happy surprised or not, however, is harder to tell. "I...guess that's better then telling..."

Nightwing trails off as the headlights cut through the fog, and his attention hyperfocuses. "Well, here we go. Are we moving to take them down, or wait and spy? Keep tabs until they connect us to someone up the chain? You're the one who's running this so...I'll follow your lead."

Something he wouldn't have been able to do a few months back.

Oracle has posed:
In point of fact, his actions startle her into immobility. Her shift to readiness was... well, to be honest, it was in readiness to follow him off the roof. She rather expected that he'd take over her sting operation -- it's kind of just the way it's always been. She accepted that when she invited him along tonight. In that moment, though, she sees him through new eyes. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Nightwing?" she quips without thought.

And then she shakes her head. "No... I'm sorry. I... Thank you." It's not every day that the gentlemen assume that she's their equal.

Nightwing has posed:
He glances briefly at her and chuckles softly. "I don't know. Maybe it's a distance thing. Or a growing up thing. Whatever it is, glad you approve." He leans over and peers over the side of their perch to watch the approaching car. His gloved fingertips knead at the top of the edifice, as if straining back not to pounce.

Oracle has posed:
Batgirl throws him a grin that would light up a room. And then her attention turns to the graveyard. "My plan was to watch tonight and get names and faces... but if a guy called Trace Fargo shows up, we want to tail him. He can lead us to the next rung."

As the cars pull up into the cemetary closer to the church, it turns out to be three cars traveling up the road in a line. When they reach the turn-off for the crematorium, which has a traffic circle that will allow them easy egress, they stop and get out to talk.

Batgirl points. "That one is Fitz Kline. He's a low-level dealer with ties here and in Bludhaven. He also dabbles in weapons." She points to another guy. "That one I haven't seen before."

Nightwing has posed:
He frowns a hint at that and nods. He watches from his perch beside her as a hand dips into his utility belt. He withdraws a small ear bud and tucks it into the ear not used by his comm. He spends a moment fiddling with it, and then angles his head a bit awkwardly. Soon, however, he is picking up the conversation in the distance. Nightwing begins quietly letting her know anything that is beind said. He has to furrow his brow and again to pick up specific sentences, though. But it is better then nothing!

Oracle has posed:
The conversation is actually far more enlightening than Batgirl would have expected. Most of the men seem to be muscle. But the man whose name she didn't know says, "You know we don't want no trouble with the Bat. You said you could get us into Bludhaven harbor, Kline. Fargo ain't settin' one foot in this place, not with the caped crazies here."

Kline assures him, "You're all set. The buyer wants the entire cargo. We've got three guys working the harbor for the night that ship comes in, and they'll set the container at the closest point on Pier 52. All the truck has to do is come and load it."

The no-name man grunts. "Fargo'll be on hand personally to make sure the merchandise is what you claim. And if what you have in there is good quality girls, this'll set you up as middleman for the pipeline. Don't screw it up!"

Batgirl blinks behind her mask and looks at Nightwing. "Did you just say 'girls'? Holy Batsignals."

Nightwing has posed:
He recites what he is hearing without really -hearing- it. He simply informs Babs of what is being said. Only when she brings it up does he blink and think back, and his cheeks go a bit scarlet with anger.

"Yeah. Girls. Bludhaven." His eyes narrow a bit and he turns to glare over the misty cemetary to the men by the crematorium. She can see the restrained violence in his stance. She knows him well enough by now.

"This is interesting. Stuff I didn't know. New faces to add to the wall back home."

Oracle has posed:
"Well.... looks like I'll be coming to visit you next," Batgirl observes. "Fargo's going to be there too. And if they've graduated from drugs and guns to girls? I know they'll just find someone else to take Fargo's place, but...." She shakes her head. "No way."

The prohibition about PDAs of any kind in uniform is ingrained, but she reaches out and squeezes his arm. "We'll hold off making the move until the cargo container is in. He gave us the time and place. It's all we need."

Nightwing has posed:
"They always find someone else to take their place. That doesn't mean we don't take them down."

Her hand finds the expected firm muscle through the costume, and the young man glances over at her. She can feel the tension in his form.

"Okay. I want to...okay. No, you're right." She can tell it takes every fiber of his being not to swing down there right now and begin kicking teeth out.

Oracle has posed:
In all honesty, it's taking all *she* has not to do the same thing. But she's also learned patience. Batgirl nods to him and she murmurs, "Keep listening. They may drop more names. And by the time that ship hits port, we'll be waiting for them. Hell... we could probably get the Feds involved in this one. They'll be all over it."

Nightwing has posed:
He nods to her, the man barely restrained. In the end, however, he's recited all of the information he gets, and it has all been recorded. He sighs softly and brushes his fingers back through his dark hair before he glances over at her.

"Well, fruitful evening, huh? Certainly more then I expected. Heh." He shrugs and moves to sit on the edge of the building, the two still out of sight of the men should they glance in this direction.

Oracle has posed:
She continues to watch, listening as he summarizes. And when he takes the device out of his ear and sits down, she moves to join him with her legs dangling. If Batman saw them, they might find themselves Gibbs-slapped off the side of the cathedral, but... quite honestly, Barbara's feeling a little shaky. "Jesus... It's not like we don't know that it happens. I mean..." She bites her lip. "If they're bringing in a cargo container, the two of us aren't going to be enough. We can take down the bad guys, but... if there are girls in that container, they're going to need medical care and who knows what else."

Leaning forward just slightly so that she can verify that the men are loading themselves back into the three cars, she sits back again. "I'll get on the logistics of follow-up. But... Bludhaven's your territory. How do you want to handle it?"

There's a brief smirk, and she adds, "Besides the obvious of ripping them limb from limb with your bare hands, which is what I'd really like to be doing right now."

Nightwing has posed:
"You had the right idea. Monitor. But yeah, if there are people who need help, we'll need support staff on hand once we get them out."

He glances over at her as she settles in beside the, Nightwing quietly admiring her in the gloom, before he glances back over the cemetary. "I don't have the support structure out there that you do here. I hate to say it, but I'll need some kind of help to deal with it. If it came down to dropping through a skylight and kicking some thugs through walls, I'd have it covered, but this...?

Oracle has posed:
There's an easy shrug. "He's had years and years of putting together the infrastructure," she reminds him softly. Nudging his shoulder with hers lightly, she adds with her tongue firmly in cheek, "You're one-up on him already... you're smart enough to know we need help." Her smile flashes in the darkness, and she kicks her feet as they watch those headlights leave the cemetary.

"So.... what about you? Any fun skirmishes this week? Didja manage to find a date for the Gotham Halloween thing? Or are you avoiding the black-tie events like the plague still?" There's always SOME fund raiser or event going on -- it's that time of year when "giving thanks" and "give to the poor" seem to be on everyone's mind, after all.

Nightwing has posed:
"How freaked would people be if the adopted son of billionaire Wayne escorted the daughter of the Commissioner to that thing, do you think? Would people clutch pearls?" He watches the headlights retreat, and the tension in his shoulders eases a tiny bit. There is certainly more there now then there was before the men arrived, however.

"It's pretty much been all work. Haven't built much of a social life back in Bludhaven. Just...sleeping in and fighting late."

Oracle has posed:
"Probably," she snorts. And then she blinks and looks at him. Wait, what? It appears that the masked vigilante adopted son of a billionaire just rendered the masked vigilante daughter of the Police Commissioner completely off-balance and uncertain of how exactly she's supposed to respond to that seemingly throwaway comment. She has this really flummoxed expression behind the mask, as if she has no idea how to respond to that.

"Wow. We've sunk to the bottom of the barrel... desperation dating," she tries to quip lightly. But there's just a little pang there -- cuz no one wants to be the fallback friend!

Nightwing has posed:
He chuckles softly and nods to that. "Are you kidding? Have you seen my butt? I'm far from desperate," the man teases, trying to lighten the sudden mood shift. He clears his throat and sits forward a bit. He reaches down and idly taps his toes in a rather bendy way. Dang trapeze artist circus kids! "Wanted to take you to a movie or a ...I dunno. Party? Dinner? How do normal people date? Anyways, hindsight is twenty-twenty. If you think it'd be too weird, it's fine. But..."

He glances over at her over his shoulder. "...I think it could be pretty cool. I think we'd be fun together and...good for eachother?" Bat Fam don't do healthy relationships well, so he's kind of guessing there.

Oracle has posed:
The query about whether she's seen his butt is met with a quick flush of guilt -- because yes, she's SEEN his butt! She stared at it for years while they messed around on rooftops! "I.... that wasn't where I intended for that query to go," the redhead admits. Heck, they used to talk to one another throughout their teens about the crazy dating thing; Dick with his set-up dates for events and Babs constantly complaining about the dearth of anything approaching decent dating material. When he looks over his shoulder, she's watching him closely. Masked is not how she'd prefer to talk to him about this, but... well, he started it! Or maybe she did, just by teasing him. But still, he started it!

"Normal and us... we don't exactly have even a passing relationship. So... can we leave off what's 'normal' and ... you're seriously asking me on a date?" Though the mask hides most of her thoughts, it's not hard to pick up on the fact that her reaction is definitely not revulsion of any kind. More like a puzzlement -- if this is one of his practical jokes, it'll cut really deep. The typically Barbara thing to do would be to ask 'why?' but he's already answered it. She's just not sure he's not pranking her.

Nightwing has posed:
He chuckles softly, the tone light and easy. Teasing gently. He tugs his legs up onto the top of the crypt and turns about. He rolls onto his stomach and leans over the edge, peering out at the place the men had met not long ago. He's nervous as hell talking about this, honestly. The young man is trying to be casual about it, but she can likely read his tension and posture.

"I am seriously asking you out on a date." He wants to call her by her name when he says that but...he won't do so while cowled. He might have broken a few 'rules' tonight, but he isn't going to break that one. He rolls onto his back and stares up at the sky, before turning his attention to her. "Seriously."

Oracle has posed:
She paces when she's nervous. He... does that. She watches him do his version of fidgeting. He wouldn't be fidgeting if he were pranking. As he lays there on the rooftop looking at the sky, she studies his face in the shadows. And when he looks back to her, she pulls in a slow breath. "Okay."

The word is spoken very softly. And for a long moment, she sits utterly still. Then she pulls her feet up under her to stand, the movement smooth despite its abruptness. Her cape flies around her as she readies a grapple. "We're--" Clearing her throat, she tries again. "We're still on the clock. Race you from here to the top of the courthouse."

Nightwing has posed:
He watches her rise, distracted. However, he is on his feet before she finishes that final sentence. It is as if a race between the two would be normal. It would be what is expected. Sometimes, what is normal excepted is what is needed. He laughs and nods. "See you there."

He leaps from the top and flings out his own grapple...and Nightwing is off! He leaps from rooftop to rooftop, and grapples here or there, grinning to himself. He races the redheaded badass to the Courthouse in question!