She's never said it out loud. Not in so many words.
It took her a while to recognise it at all. She analysed it, of course, picked it apart piece by piece. When did it start? Was it when she first began to think of iCanary/i as iDinah/i? When she spoke to her with her own voice, because laughter shouldn't be synthesized? When Dinah held her for the first time, and heard her true name?
She's pondering that, hands clasped in front of her keyboard, as she watches Dinah through the sky scraper's security cams. As always, she's a sight to behold; brutally graceful as she takes down a posse of thugs, grinning all the while. Barbara can't help smiling, too.
Maybe that's it. She made her smile, even then.
She doesn't hear Cass come up from the holo room. That's long stopped bothering her; she's as comfortable with the girl's presence as she is with her own family's.
"You like…watching her." Her eyes widen, but she doesn't start; simply turns her head to meet Cassandra's eyes. Dinah's got it covered at the moment. (She wouldn't have been able to do this, once; Dinah very forcibly taught her to loosen the strings.)
"I – yes. She's good."
Cass smiles that small, knowing smile of hers, shaking her head. "More than that."
After a moment, Barbara smiles back, ruefully. You can't hide things from Cass. "It is, yeah. I…she's…"
"Like Dick?"
Barbara blinks. "Um – sort of. Dick is – " Dick is complicated. He's always been as much family as anything, as much past as present, and it makes things…difficult. They always end up pushing each other away, when they try to be lovers.
Cass is nodding again, brow furrowed. "Love them both. But – in different ways."
Barbara grins, then. She's a remarkable kid, really. "Yeah." Her gaze drifts back the screen. The thugs are all down, now, and Dinah is racing to her next destination. An absent click switches to another feed; there she is, dashing through the corridors. No use sneaking now.
"Should tell her."
Cass is gone, this time, when Barbara turns.
The next time she sees Dinah in person, it's not a good day. She's hunched over the main computer, fingers flying frantically over the keys.
"You know you're not iactually/i a robot, right?" Dinah's voice is archly amused as she carries in a tray of chicken soup and biscuits. Barbara fleetingly considers telling her to just leave it there, but she knows it would just go cold - and, more to the point, so does Dinah.
So she heaves a sigh, sets the computer to a random search, and turns her chair around. Unfortunately, that means Dinah can see the steadily growing bags under her eyes.
"This case is really driving you up the wall, huh?" Dinah's demeanour has shifted seamlessly from teasing to concerned.
Barbara smiles a bit, going for reassurance and probably failing. "I should really have tracked these guys down by now, that's all."
Dinah's eyebrows arch. "And that's all it is."
Barbara shrugs, making her way to the small table recently cleared of books and paperwork. Dinah sets it in silence, and then they're eating their soup.
When Barbara finally speaks, her voice is low and quiet. She stares into the noodles as if they're the culprits, as if she could burn them from the Earth with the fierceness of her gaze.
"They're using ikids/i, Dinah. As - not even as soldiers. As iweapons/i." Her hand is gripping the spoon so hard it's shaking.
Then, suddenly, Dinah's hand is wrapped around it, strong and warm, and it relaxes.
"Just like Cassandra."
Her head lifts, and her eyes meet warmth and sympathy and of icourse/i Dinah understands, even when she barely acknowledged it herself. Just like Cass did.
Her chest tightens, suddenly.
iShould tell her./i
No. She shouldn't be thinking about this, not when she's working on something important -
But then, iwhen/i?
"Babs?"
Dinah's voice is soft, lips barely parting. They're chapped again; she's always losing the lip balm Barbara gives her. That lipstick only makes things worse, she always itells/i her that. But she knows she looks damn good in it.
Dinah's fingers are rubbing soft circles into her knuckles. Her throat's gone dry and the soup's going cold.
"Dinah – " Hoarse and breathy, hardly fit for a declaration. She swallows. "There's something – I – oh, hell with it."
She leans forward and kisses Dinah soundly on the lips. It's clumsy and rough and awkward, but she can feel Dinah's lips curve against her own before she settles back.
Dinah looks a bit dazed, through the smile. "Oh."
Barbara smiles back, a bit ruefully. "Yeah." The nerves are beginning to strike, now; was that the right decision? Did she ruin everything? Will Dinah just leave?
But Dinah leans forward, now, gently pushing the bowls aside.
"Let's do that again."