Author: Erin (The Elfmaniac)
Rating: T-ish.
Pairings: The Question/Black Canary
Mentions of past Green Arrow/Black Canary, as well as Huntress/The Question.
Summary: Even he, the conspiracy theorist, found nothing wrong with the meeting.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, surprisingly.
All of them are copyrighted to the good people at DC comics.
Special Thanks/Notes: I was forced to write this for a friend, who supplied me with all the Justice League episodes I wanted.
Meaning, all of them. Ha. Therefore, I am wirting this in thanks.
The gentle rap at his door was enough to wake him from his reverie, computer screen flashing urgently. His fingers traced the contours of his face, free of the mask and gases over his face. Green eyes flickered towards the door, hands hovering over the keys. "Come in."
His voice was gruff, more firm than it had been before. Cadmus had knocked the gentleness out of him, or, most of it; he had also knocked the need to be incognito at all times out of him. Though he was not quite the ugliest man on earth, he certainly felt queer without his mask on. He rubbed as his eyes, the swelling having gone down.
"Yes? I said you could come in, already," he stated, swiveling about in his chair. The Question quirked an eyebrow as the door slid open, a body leaning against the doorway that reminded him of another. His gloved fingers curled around the arm, trying to find something to say.
"Yes? What do you want?" he asked, standing. His blue trenchcoat fluttered about him, calming once he picked a position to stand in.
"I have a favor," the other implored, taking another step into the room. "The League can't know about it, either, Vic. You're just the person for the job," the Black Canary explained, straightening out. She reached a hand back, palm closing the door easily.
"Why don't you ask Oliver? I'm sure he would be of more help to you, Miss Lance," he responded, face falling a bit. The Question was unsure of the young woman's motives, and was therefore rather skeptical. He looked at her body language: the slumped shoulders, bowed head, and bent knees. There was something peculiar going on, and he was mildly interested.
"I would. But it's about Ollie," Dinah said, giving him a sad look. It was not like her to give off an air of anything but superiority. Much like the Huntress, Vic supposed.
"I see," he said, tapping his chin. The Question's eyes followed her restless trek around the room. "What exactly is wrong, Dinah?"
She turned back to him, blonde curls shifting on her shoulders. "It's...he's seeing someone else."
"I see. And...why do you need to ask The Question for such...a case?"
"I know that Helena is seeing Ted."
His jaw clenched. It was funny, because Vic had never considered Helena the type to leave him for someone stronger. However, he had gotten his ass handed to him by the Green Arrow. The Green Arrow. If that was not sufficiently embarrassing, the supposed love of his life, his partner...well, she had left him for the man who beat the snot out of Oliver.
Wildcat. Ted Grant.
He was a nobody. Roulette had been right about that much; Wildcat was nothing anymore. He was in therapy with J'onn, for Heaven's sake.
"...again, I fail to see how..." he tailed off, peering at the woman. Her shoulders appeared to be shaking, which was a tell-tale sign of-- "Canary, don't cry."
"I...I can't believe he'd do this to me," she sobbed; Vic was ill-prepared for a situation like this. "I...I thought were were okay, you know? Thought that...thought that.."
Dinah's words became nothing more than half-syllables, and the man felt sympathy begin to worm its way into his own feelings. His expression faded into something of a sympathetic gaze, watching the hero fall apart in front of him. He cleared his throat, adjusting his tie, making a slow approach. The last thing The Question wanted to do, of course, was to startle her. The Black Canary surely packed a poweful punch.
"I'm sorry, Canary. I know how you feel."
As cliched as that was, it was true. They had both suffered heartbreak, and he supposed this was why relationships inside the office were strongly discouraged. If the Canary and Arrow were placed on a team together, it would result in something catastrophic. The world would stop turning. The sun would blow up.
If not that, people would certainly end up with particularly bruised egos.
She seemed comforted in the slightest, a few heaves of her chest signalling the tapering off of sobs. It was odd that she would consider opening up to someone like The Question, who usually was devoid of emotion.
"Why, though?"
Her fingers worked away the tears, looking up to him. "Because I knew I could trust you," Dinah responded, voice thick from the tears. "And, because...I thought...I mean. I like you," she added, sniffing, tilting her head to the side. Dinah's face was sufficiently red by now, eyes clouded.
"Is that true? Or are you just saying that?" the Question asked, advancing another step. She swallowed, and he heard the tell-tale click in her throat; she was going to cry more.
"I'm not just saying that, Vic. You're a very intelligent man, and I--"
Her words were cut off as she was pulled into a tight embrace, the breah hitching in her chest. "Vic?"
"Yes, Dinah?"
"Your face...I guess...I've never seen it. It's so expressive."
He paused, pulling back to give her a scruitinizing gaze.
"What does it look like now, Canary?"
"It looks like you like me, too."
The Question was not going to protest, and allowed the smooth feel of her lips against his. He had not allowed Huntress the privelage of kissing him without his mask, and it felt much better than it had with the other woman.
The Black Canary's expression was soft and serene, her eyes closed.
Why she dared to ask the Question for any help in this situation, he would not know.
Vic would not ask, either.
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