Prompt: ( the-owlknight ) Are you still taking Femslash Promps? If so Cass/Brenda when Cass moves back to Gotham and opens up a Cafe named Brenda in her honour.
A/N: I figure it's only fair to have a few angsty femslash pieces as well considering I've posted just a few Cass/Brenda happy fluff lately ; P
Batgirl and related properties © DC Comics
story © RenaRoo
My Cafe
It's not much, but it is something.
Cassandra spends a lot of time with it – more than Tim wishes she would since she's only been back in Gotham for a short while, and there's something about keeping a public face for the Waynes as they work charitably to help after the bridges were blown out by the Architect.
She doesn't pay a whole lot of attention, and Dick seems to understand her limits toward cameras and big events in a way.
Bruce simply signs off on anything she wants in a way that leaves Damian stewing, even if he, in turn, spends an incredible amount of time hanging around the shop and pestering her without offering assistance.
Her family is strange in their own ways, she's strange in her's.
And her's has led her here.
Running her fingers across the marble countertops, Cassandra can't help but smile, tracing the curves of the stone, then ducking down to examine the glass window within the siding that will show off the trays of baked goods.
Alfred has promised her some recipes, as has the Commissioner – who Cass never would have guessed could cook given Barbara's capacity for it.
She counts the tables and the chairs for what must be the hundredth time. Sits in each one, tries out the booth at the large display window. Looks out past the freshly painted logo and the sign Dick helped her hang up Open Soon!
The cafe is beautiful – Wayne money and resources will do that. And Cass figures if she's successful enough with it, she may employ someone who needs it. Maybe someone she meets through her night job and take a page out of Bruce's book.
The inspectors will be in tomorrow, Tim scheduled it for her. And that leaves just one thing.
Going to the other side of the bar, Cassandra strolls her fingers through the drawers – Stephanie drew different designs beside each label so that if Cass ever stumbles with the words, she can still find what she's looking for.
She stops at the heart, pulls out the tiny drawer, picks up one of the bags of tea.
After some preparation, Cass sits on the counter beside the brand new and unused cash register and holds a steaming cup of tea in her hands. There is a brittle smile reflecting back up at he in the cup.
It's very easy, Cass has learned, to die. She's had a few turns of it, after all. And she spent most of her years wishing for it.
Living is harder, takes the kind of strength that Cass had to learn for herself. Had to find for herself. And she only did so with the sorts of people who saw value in a Cassandra Cain as much if not more than a Batgirl.
"Thank you, Brenda," Cass says to the assam tea, ignoring the way the words make her eyes well up. "It's all for you."
The struggle, the pain, the patience. She has them all because someone loved he and showed her that there are things Cassandra can do that Batgirl can't, ways to help that Batgirl can't.
And, really, that's what's worth living for – keeping that lesson alive.