Remember when I didn't have Poptarts and lukewarm instant coffee every day for breakfast? Or when I actually put effort into both my outfit of the day and my homework? Or when I arrived to class on time?
Yeah, me either. Granted, I'd only really tried to stay on top of it for the first three days of this semester, but I'd already backslid to the point where I had to check to see if I had remembered to put a bra on when I was halfway to campus. At least I had remembered the bra (the one where the underwire was starting to break free from the fabric and poke me in the chest), but that still didn't change the fact that I was late for my morning English class.
Babs had suggested that I take it because the professor, Dr. Weinhardt, was supposedly great, but she'd neglected to mention that the class was also difficult and filled with English majors who brought in random theorists I'd never heard of every chance they could. Nodding along worked well in other classes, but not when Dr. Weinhardt asked me what I was thinking. To which I would elegantly reply, "uhh?," which he would then reply to with an annoyed sigh.
Worst of all, the class was also tiny so there was no way I could get in without being noticed. And this was my fifth time being significantly late this semester and we'd only had eleven classes. My grade wasn't going to be fantastic even if I was on time and present in every class, but now I was going to have trouble passing, especially since he likely hated my guts. Which I would probably get crap for from Babs since she seemed to know absolutely everything about my life before even I knew it. Great start to the day.
I stuffed half of a Poptart down my throat as I rushed across the street to campus, which was pretty much dead because everyone else was either responsibly sitting in class or passed out asleep in bed, where I had been only twenty minutes before.
A few Gotham PD cars were around campus, as they often were, but today there were slightly more than I was used to. Cops usually wandered around on those dorky Segways or sat in patrol cars, making sure people weren't smoking weed in the quads or causing general debauchery for anyone who passed. But today, they were standing in clusters near the sciences building, where Babs's office was and where she taught her a few of her classes. Something about the way their heads were bowed toward one another solemnly made the second half of my Poptart feel like cardboard in my mouth, but I couldn't stop long enough to get a good look or overhear anything.
I did notice Nick Gage, the detective I kept running into, in one of the clusters. He'd gotten a haircut so I could see the cold-reddened tips of his ears. He also hadn't shaved in what looked like a few days so he looked a bit scruffy, which I liked. It was nice seeing him in full daylight and off-duty so I could fully admire him without Babs telling me to pay attention to the task at hand or disapproving of my accidental (well, kind of) flirting. From here I could mentally thank whoever chose the GCPD uniform pants for choosing ones that contoured to his butt perfectly, as well as whoever invented the squat.
I almost waved when he turned around a bit except a) he probably wouldn't recognize me without my Batgirl suit on since we'd only met once when I was in my civvies, and b) I chose that moment to slip on a patch of ice and send half of my breakfast flying. My only saving grace was that I didn't actually full-on fall. I'd caught myself with one hand, but it was my Poptart hand, and my other arm balanced on the edge of a bench. The Poptart sailed several feet, propelled by the speed at which I'd nearly fallen, and hit Detective Gage in the cheek.
Perfect.
He looked up, obviously confused but surprisingly not alarmed, then at the ground at the half-eaten cinnamon sugar Poptart, then at me.
"Uh, sorry!" I said, tugging on the bottom of my jacket. "Slipped."
"I would give you back the Poptart, but I'm guessing you don't want it now," he said, chuckling. "I'll toss it out for you…Stephanie? Barbara Gordon's student?"
"Mmhm." I swept crumbs off my gloves, hoping my blush was just subtle enough to be confused as being too cold. "Um, Detective Gage, right?"
"Right." He tossed the pastry in a nearby trashcan. "I didn't think you'd recognize me. We've only met once or twice."
I forced myself to laugh to sound at ease, which actually usually worked when I wasn't trying to not to blush to death and/or fling myself head first into the iced-over fountain a few feet behind me. "But you recognized me?"
"Good with faces—comes with being a cop, I guess." He shrugged. "And you have a memorable personality."
"Do I?" The words came out a lot more desperately than I'd intended them to. Plus one for non-costumed Steph for making an impression, but minus one for being awkward about it. Luckily he didn't even blink.
"Oddly personal, though not in an off-putting way." He rubbed his large gloved hands together, as if he were trying to warm them up. "Heading to class?"
"Kind of." I checked my watch. An hour late for an hour and fifteen minute long class.
He grinned. "Don't worry, I won't arrest you for cutting class or anything. I skipped my fair share when I was in college."
I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from grinning too hard. His parents really needed to apologize to me directly for making such a handsome son. "I thought cops were rule followers."
He shrugged again, still smiling, and leaned toward me a little bit so others wouldn't overhear. His breath smelled sweet and a little minty. "That'll be our secret then."
I wanted so many secrets with him, many of which were probably too filthy for me to repeat to anyone at any point. I'd never been so thankful that I'd worked with Babs to get my inside and outside voice under control in my entire life.
"Well, tell Barbara I said hello. Have to get back to work," He said, making eye contact with another cop over my shoulder.
"Okay." I bit the inside of my cheek and looked back at the other cops. "Is everything alright?"
He mirrored my gaze, slipping his hands into his pockets. "We aren't fully sure, but we have it under control."
The way he said it sounded like standard cop-speak, but dealing with cops frequently had given me a more trained ear in hearing what they really thought. It wasn't going well. There wasn't a lot more to go off of. Noticing I'd arrived, the cops had stopped talking amongst themselves, and the computer screens inside the cars showed a screensaver instead of any information.
"Oh." I glanced at my watch. Class was moments from being over. "Well, it was nice seeing you."
"Nice seeing you too, Stephanie."
Instead of walking past the cluster of cops, I went inside the computer sciences building. I could get the notes from someone else. It was only my second absence, so hopefully Dr. Weinhardt wouldn't mind as much as he did when I shuffled in apologetically.
I made my way to Babs's office, knowing she had her office hours, and knocked.
"Come in!" She called, sounding more awake than I thought she would be. Though unfortunately that meant she had the energy to give me a suspicious look the moment I stepped in. "Out of class early?"
"If being out early means not even bothering to go because I'm so late, then yes." I stretched out in the seat on the opposite side of her desk, throwing my legs over one of the chair's arms. She'd added personal touches to her office—a Rubix cube, which had been solved since the last time I was here, a picture of her and her father, a dish of candies. Her papers were stacked somewhat neatly, but the rest of her desk and computer screen were covered in incongruously low-tech post-it notes with scribbles on them like "call Grayson" and "yogurt." On top of that, she looked put together with her dark green v-neck sweater and non-frizzy hair even though she probably went to bed later than I had. It was probably part of her Oracle powers.
"I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt." She wheeled over to her bookcase and grabbed an intimidating textbook. "What's up?"
"Did you see those cops outside?" I picked up the Rubix Cube and started rearranging it so I could try to solve it again.
"I did." She put the textbook on an open spot on her desk and leafed through it.
I waited for her to say something else, but she just put a few post-it notes in the textbook and glanced at her watch. I briefly wondered if she was waiting for someone, but she probably would have kicked me out if she had an appointment.
"What'd you think?" I asked.
"I think it's just a routine check so far, but I'll keep an eye on it." She shut the textbook. "Nothing's popped up on any of my radars, so GCPD is more than capable of handling it."
"Speaking of GCPD, Nick Gage is down there." I glanced up from the Rubix Cube, which was eluding me.
"Detective Gage, you mean?" She gave me That Look again, the one with her brow raised a bit and her glasses sitting a little below their usual position on her nose.
"Right." I busied myself with the cube again so I could avoid her gaze. "He's down there. He got a haircut so he looks a bit…different."
"Hm." She went back to the textbook and wrote something else down, like I'd said there was a new grocery store down there instead.
I desperately wanted to ask her if they were still dating, though that would probably cross a line. Though the question would only matter if he dated nineteen year old vigilantes who could hardly get to class without flinging Poptarts and stabbing herself in the boob with her own bra, which I seriously doubted he did.
I hopped out of the seat and went to the window so I could look out on the quad. It had started snowing fairly hard, but the cops were still standing around. I wondered if Nick had a hat, and how his hair would look after he took said hat off and mussed his hair up. Which then led me to think of what his bedhead looked like…
"Stephanie?" Babs asked, writing something else down on a post-it. "You alright?"
"Mmhm!" I watched a few cops walk into the building where my class was supposed to be, with two coming inside the comp sci building soon after. "Just watching the snow."
"Mmhm," she echoed. "It's supposed to only be an inch tonight, but the weather report says it's supposed to be pretty bad just in time for the weekend."
"Oh great, just in time to keep me from going out to all of my imaginary friend's houses and all those imaginary dates." I sat back down across from her. The weekends for me were patrols and franticly attempting to catch up on missed readings and homework, though more of the former than the latter. With more waffles and ice cream. And sweatpants.
She laughed and tucked a stack of papers into a folder. "Well, Cassie is coming home tonight, so you have that to look forward to."
"Right!" I'd almost forgotten, but knowing she was on a plane back to the US after being in Hong Kong for what felt like forever was what got me out of bed this morning. She wasn't a huge fan of snow, so patrol would probably be fun. Assuming she would be up for it, but it was Cass, so she would always be up for it.
I was going to ask Babs if we could come over to her place and paint our nails like old times, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" Babs called.
"Um, hello, Barbara." It was Nick—Detective Gage, again. "Sorry to bother you."
"It's fine. I was just organizing a few things before class." Babs stuffed more papers into the folder and put it in the corner of her desk. Not a very I'm-dating-you gesture, but then again, I was right there.
"May I speak to Stephanie, please?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the back of a notepad. "It's related to an investigation."
Babs gave me a look out of the corner of her eye that was more out of concern than anything else. I probably looked just as concerned. "Of course."
Gage smiled at me and gestured to the hallway, so I followed. His smile made me feel simultaneously at ease and all butterflies-in-the-stomach. He had really cute teeth, like one of his incisors was a little crooked and the shape of all the others worked well with his face. Plus his lips, and the way his beard stubble formed darker spots where it dipped into his dimples.
"Is there something in my teeth?" He asked, running his hand over his mouth.
"No! I was just…looking at your face," I mumbled, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Is there something wrong?"
"I just have a few questions for you." He opened up his small notebook and took a pen from his jacket pocket. He was left-handed. "Mostly about Dr. Weinhardt's class."
"I thought you weren't going to spill our secret," I said, laughing.
His mouth curled up into a tiny smile, but the rest of his face stayed serious. "I already know you didn't go to Dr. Weinhardt's class today. Where were you?"
"I accidentally overslept. Today I was so late that I didn't bother going to class, so I went to Babs—er, Professor Gordon's office," I said, watching him scribble down a few things.
"Can anyone vouch for you being late? Like a parent or friend, besides Barbara?"
"No, my mom had a night shift at the hospital." I fidgeted a little until I forced myself to stand still again.
He wrote more down things, leaving an awkward silence between us. His face had gone a bit solemn, but I couldn't tell whether it was because he was concentrating or not.
"Okay." He shut the notebook. "Thanks. I might have to talk to you again soon."
"Nothing terrible, I hope?"
He shook his head and put his notebook back into his jacket pocket. "We'll see. But for now, just keep going about your daily life."
Even though his words were soothing, an anxious sweat bloomed under my arms the way it did when I was under scrutiny. Hopefully my Batgirl senses were off this time, and it was just post-Gage jitters that were making me feel like I was going to throw up a little bit. But it never worked out that quite well for me, did it?