Authors' Note: One of us works in mail and shipping, the other works retail fulfillment shipping. This season has been an utter clusterfuck for both of us. So we're going to skip next week's posting, build up our lead a little, and try to enjoy Christmas. We dearly hope you all do the same.
Ironically, Christmas in the story will be coming up in a couple chapters, and it's gonna be ... interesting. Hold on tight, friends. It's about to get bumpy.
We hope you all enjoy the fic, and that you're all having a lovely holiday. Thank you for joining us on this wild journey. If you've been here since Little Secrets, it really has been a helluva ride.
Sebast took a bar stool and looked in the mirrored wall behind the bottles, watching all the other people. Couples and small groups sat at tables, single men lined up along the bar, and others were out on the dance floor. For now, he preferred the quieter bar. Once he would've gone to the dance floor first, but tonight he felt, well, a little rusty. So he needed to up his odds of success, and fortunately modern technology came through for him.
Sebast had downloaded Grindr again, put up his favorite pic – with his shirt open, strumming the guitar – and waded through the usual weirdo messages while getting ready to go out. Despite his profile clearly stating 'top', he got a couple of extremely beefy young men offering to fuck him into next week – though usually not that articulately. A few recognized his face and scorned him for using a fake pic, one of which began the conversation by saying, "No way is Sebast Vélez on Grindr, lol nice try." His usual response to doubters was to write their profile name on a sheet of paper with the time, and send a pic of him holding it up next to his face. But this one wasn't quite cute enough to bother.
One guy sent, in his first message, an explicit offer involving pizza and ranch sauce. At least he was more creative than most of the guys who offered sex in the first message; Sebast ignored all of them. Another had 'no fats, no femmes, no blacks,' in his profile, so Sebast blocked that hateful garbage. He had no time for bigots, just in case their stupidity was contagious. Another match asked for a dick pic in his first message, and he turned that down as too thirsty. "At least say 'hi' first, damn," he'd muttered. He also ignored a three hundred word message from an obvious bot, fishing for blackmail nudes.
And this whole exercise in trying to forget wasn't working, because he remembered reading the more bizarre messages to Kala and making her laugh until she wept. He would never forget the horrified look on her face when he read the exchange with a really cute guy who, when asked what he was doing that day, told Sebast he was headed to a friend's funeral. Or the gagging noises she'd made when he read out the messages from the guy who only wanted to buy Sebast's underwear, with a bonus for extra sweat.
Shit, even the photo he was using had been taken by Kala. Damn. Despite not being here, Kala was so thoroughly threaded through his life that he couldn't even get laid without thinking of her.
Never mind, out of dozens of messages he'd gotten one decent conversation, and now he was waiting on the guy to show up. Tyler was a couple years younger, clean-cut like Sebast himself, very fit and had a great smile. He wasn't looking for anything serious, like most men using the app. Just the kind of guy he liked to hook up with – a fun night with a hot guy, and no drama afterward.
Except now Sebast was feeling uneasy, staring at his own reflection in the mirrored bar. It wasn't fear of rejection. Sebast was gorgeous and knew it; no matter what photo he used, he always got a lot of attention. And he had an entire folder full of carefully chosen pics, from shirtless ones to the face shots working the Latino smolder. He'd gotten flaked on a few times, but that was normal for the online scene. Most of the time, if Sebast wanted to spend the night with someone, he could always find someone. He only went home alone when he wanted to.
Home alone was precisely where he didn't want to be, the house too big without Kala in it, and the guest bedroom he slept in still not feeling quite right. He knew every swirl in the ceiling plaster from staring up as he tried to fall asleep. Which was part of the reason he was here tonight, trying to distract himself with the best cure for insomnia he'd ever found.
He saw Tyler in the mirror as the other man approached, and turned to size him up. The face and body matched the pictures, and yes, the smile was dazzling. "Sebast?" Tyler said, and held out his hand.
Sebast took it and stood up; Tyler was taller by an inch or so, not enough to be awkward. "The one and only. Nice to meet you, Tyler. What would you like to drink?"
He always bought the drinks, unless his partner made a big deal of paying his own way. One, Sebast could afford it, and two, it kept them from getting blitzed too soon. He didn't like drunk sex … except that once. Sebast stamped down on that line of thought quickly.
Unaware of his conflict, Tyler answered with a grin, "I like Hennessy. How about a Black Velvet?"
Cognac and vermouth couldn't go wrong, so Sebast ordered two as he took his seat and Tyler took the one next to him. While they waited for the drinks, they made a little small talk, just checking out the chemistry and each other. Sebast had a strict no-weirdos policy and was very discriminating about who he agreed to meet, but sometimes they managed to fake normalcy long enough to slip past. Tyler didn't seem to be a weirdo.
Talking about jobs led into a little awkwardness; Sebast didn't feel right calling himself a singer or talking about his band when he'd walked out of it, and had three voicemails from Jenna on his phone right now, each one more wheedling than the last. 'Musician' was good enough, and when he found out Tyler worked retail, they swapped stories about customers from hell.
Never mind that some of the ones Sebast told actually came from Kala's stint at Bed & Bath. All roads led back to her already, he didn't have to start paving more. Tyler didn't seem the Goth rock type, anyway.
After laughing over the lady who insisted that Tyler's store had sold her their competitor's clearly-marked product, and did so despite seeing the competition's name on her own credit statement, they fell into a natural lull in the conversation, just looking into each other's eyes. Sebast knew the precise moment when he should've suggested that they dance – or just head to Tyler's place or his own – and felt all the weight of habit settle on him. He knew every step of this little abbreviated courtship ritual, from how to make the suggestion smoothly, to how to put his guest at ease or how to comment graciously on his host's home, to how to offer condoms without breaking the flow of the evening. Sebast was good at the whole seduction game, always had been, and he could get his own satisfaction while leaving this handsome young man seeing stars.
To his surprise, he didn't want to. All of it seemed … tired, somehow, like he'd been running the same scene in a play over and over, the only change being his co-star. Even the lines were the same. All the spontaneity and joy was just gone, and Sebast had never dreamed he'd feel like that. From the moment he discovered the promiscuous side of the gay community, he'd dedicated himself to laying as many hot young men as physically possible. And he'd been very successful at that goal.
A beat of silence, and then Tyler said, "You know, my roommate works nights. If you wanna come over…"
Sebast sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dammit, Tyler was really damn pretty – but going home with anyone when his head was this messed up would be a mistake. "Look, Tyler…"
"Second thoughts?" the younger man asked, his tone hardening a little. Sebast couldn't blame him, he'd put himself out here, gone to meet a stranger, there was obvious chemistry, and now Sebast was getting cold feet.
"I'm sorry," he said, touching Tyler's arm lightly. "I was trying to get away from some stuff that's been bothering me, but I think I brought it with me instead. And you're too damn gorgeous to waste a night with you brooding about my own bullshit."
"Come back to my place, then," Tyler said with a spark in his eye. "Bet I can make you forget whatever it is. Or whoever it is. At least, for half an hour or so."
Sebast chuckled at that. "Yeah, you probably could. You just deserve my best, and I'm not on my A-game tonight. I … shit, I can't even do this part right."
"Nah, it's cool," Tyler said lightly. "Doesn't work out every time. Just, look, take my number, okay? You're too damn gorgeous to forget about that easily."
"I'll give you mine, too," Sebast said, and they typed them into each other's phones. Only once they were done did he say, a little diffidently, "Look, even if you're seeing someone or something – you're an interesting person. I wouldn't mind just talking."
"Yeah, you seem pretty cool too," Tyler said, then grinned. "I totally thought you were gonna trade on the rock star cred."
Sebast looked surprised, and the younger man laughed. "Man, the second photo you sent me is on your band's page. I thought for sure you'd be some faker trying to steal the real Sebast Vélez's reputation."
"Nah, it's me," Sebast said, feeling embarrassed. "I don't usually tell people who I am unless they know the band and recognize me. Sometimes it's nice to know people like you for yourself, not for the fame. Not that I think you were going for that."
"It's cool," Tyler assured him. "I just figured some of your pics were a little too good to be true. Like they look professional, so I thought model or actor, and reverse image-searched them. Surprised the hell outta me to meet the real deal."
Sebast chuckled. "Singer's close enough. I'll remember to use shitty selfies next time I try to fly undercover."
Tyler sighed, giving an expressive shrug. "Look, since you mentioned it … what the hell are you doing on Grindr anyway? A guy like you can walk in anywhere and get attention. Plus, the rock star thing, if you want casual you can always find groupies."
Narrowing his eyes, Sebast let the laugh turn bitter. "Oh yeah, I get lots of attention. Most of it from creeps. C'mon, you're pretty too, you know how it is. Don't you get tired of being treated like Disposable Twink Number Two-Seventy-Eight? Not to mention, I'm decidedly not a twink."
"Gain a hundred pounds and photoshop some chest hair," Tyler teased, dark eyes sparkling.
"I'd just have to stop waxing. Not into that, I like the clean look. And I can't gain a hundred pounds in this industry, I'm always running my ass off." Sebast finished off his drink, beginning to feel morose.
Tyler leaned closer. "Okay, Grindr's good for screening out the freaks, just 'cause they out themselves so quick. And I'm sure the groupies can get pretty scary…"
"You ever had a girl full-on grab your dick and think it was okay?" Sebast interrupted. "I mean grab like it's a goddamn door handle, and then get all upset when you're pissed? 'Cause she's a chick and you're gay anyway, it should just be funny?"
The younger man shuddered. "No. And thanks, you just made me glad I'm in school for nursing. So not cool."
"My co-singer ran that one out. Only she thought the girl grabbed my ass – if she knew it was my junk, she'd've decked the bitch and let them cart her out on a stretcher." He slid the glass around in a little circle, smiling to himself. "Kala's protective as hell. I knew if I told her what really happened to make me jump outta my skin like that, I was gonna hafta post bail. Damn, I miss that girl."
"So call her," Tyler said. "Shit, I text my best friend memes at two in the morning."
Sebast couldn't help laughing. "Little bit more complicated than that, but thanks for the advice." He turned the conversation deftly aside, and parted from Tyler with a regretful handshake. Damn shame, really, but his head wasn't right for this.
His head wasn't right for much, and Sebast walked home, thinking about Kala. Maybe it could be as easy as calling her. He'd done it once, right? And she'd answered. True, he'd called to confront her about the small matter of being a freaking superhero, but hey, what was a little secret identity between friends?
Sebast sighed gustily, his breath frosty in the cold air. It wasn't a long walk, really, and the chill helped him think. What was he supposed to do? He wanted to talk to Kala, but he wanted to see her face when he did, try to parse the truth from the things she felt she had to hide.
And he was gradually realizing that it would be damn difficult to watch Kala in love with someone else. Marlene had been okay, it was almost something all of them were in on together. The whole band knew, they helped hide it from the label, and Sebast hadn't minded because Kala was still right there by his side. Even Dustin hadn't threatened their friendship, Sebast had still all the little things he and Kala only did together. Dustin wasn't exactly a fan of mango ice cream or terrible chupacabra movies. He'd been careful not to interfere with Kala and Sebast's friendship; he'd been a damn good friend to Sebast, too. Even Nick had stepped back a little, knowing Sebast could happily shank him at first.
This guy, Jason Todd, she was flying off to Gotham to see him on the regular. And he knew her in ways Sebast didn't. He wasn't freaking out because his girlfriend was an alien; he'd always known what she was. Jay had been her martial arts trainer, he knew all about the superhero stuff, they ran around Gotham mixing it up with all kinds of crazy villains. Hell, half the reason Kala had been pulling away had probably been because she finally found herself with someone who understood. Not even Sebast could say that.
He shook himself, scowling. No, Jay had only met her this summer, right? Maybe they'd crossed paths before that, but the Blur was a fairly new phenomenon in the hero set. And Kala hadn't acted any different before that. Things had only gotten weird recently, right before she left for the summer – and he was ashamed to admit he'd been glad of the breathing room. For the first week or so. After that, he'd missed her. Maybe if she'd stayed home, something would've tipped the balance, and he and Kala would've either admitted their feelings … or gotten into a big wicked fight and ended up right here.
The point was, no matter what Jay knew, he couldn't know her as well as Sebast did. He knew the Blur, he didn't know KLK. He couldn't understand all of what she was, either. Sebast had to hang onto that.
Dammit, he was gonna have to talk to her, and find out where they stood. But Thanksgiving was coming up, and then in December he was going to Ponce. Wait, what if Kala came home for Thanksgiving?!
He winced, shaking his head. On top of everything else, what were they gonna do about the house? Maybe he could buy her out, but if he didn't go back to the tour he was gonna be in some legal trouble. Maybe he should let her buy him out, instead. Kala had been in love with the place, especially the huge windows…
Sebast came to a complete stop, pedestrians stepping around him resentfully. Of course Kala liked the windows, she was half Kryptonian, she got her powers from the sun!
He shook himself again, and got walking. He'd have to talk to someone about holiday plans. Things were still too new, too weird, and he didn't want to bump into Kala again until he got his mind right. If he couldn't talk to Kala about it, then he probably needed to call Lois – and if anyone knew how to handle being in love with a solar-powered alien, it was Lois Lane, the original intrepid reporter. Maybe she could help him make sense of the crazy merry-go-round of thoughts and revelations in his head. Lois had said he still was, always would be, family. Time to test that, he guessed.
After Christmas, though, once he was back from the island, he'd have to see about sitting down with Kala and talking through things. To that end, he probably should call their agent back at some point.
Sebast laughed to himself, turning onto their street. He'd gone from trying to get laid, to making plans for business stuff and a lunch date with someone he considered his other mom. If this was being a responsible adult, he'd just as soon go back to being a crazy rock star, thanks.
…
Kala had checked in with Babs, and for once hadn't gotten trolled. Oracle had informed her that Jay had just signed out of patrol, so she met him at the apartment.
In the apartment, actually. She had a key, and she was used to his security, which anyone else would call paranoia. Kala supposed normal people didn't have to disarm a laser grid and a tripwire to visit their boyfriend, but hell, it was all part of Jay's charm. She'd only managed to stumble into a stun gun once. And her situational awareness was pretty keen these days.
She heard his key, and waited for him, her heart beating faster. Kala had changed out of her uniform, just wearing his shirt to curl up on his bed. The room was chilly, but she'd sunned up earlier in the day, and her metabolism was humming along, keeping her nicely warm. To keep herself occupied – she didn't need to obsess about the band right now – she'd started reading the closest book, which happened to be Emma, by Austen. About as far from Jay's life experience as a book could be, but maybe that was why he loved them so much. She'd opened it at his bookmark, near the end, and let herself get caught up in the prose.
Kala had just run into the line, 'If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,' when Jay came in, disarming the traps. For a moment she kept staring at the page, taken aback by the words and how they echoed in her own life.
He was here, though, and as he stepped into the room she looked up, her eyes meeting his. Jay wasn't startled, but his eyes moved over the book in her hands, his shirt covering her skin, her long legs bare beneath. And then he smiled, slow and wicked, the sight of it putting all of her doubts to rest. This was right, this was real, Kala didn't need to worry about anything when he smiled like that. Jay stalked toward her, his eyes agleam, and said, "I must've been very good this year, if Santa sent me a present like this a whole month early."
Setting the book aside, she smirked at him. "On the contrary, Mr. Todd, this is what you get for being very, very naughty."
He laughed, the best sound she'd ever heard, and Kala sprang up to leap into his arms. Jay was already moving forward to grab her, and they met in the middle of the room in a tangle of limbs and laughter.
…
Halfway across the world, it was mid-morning, and sunlight slanted into Steph's eyes. "Five more minutes," she groaned, rolling over.
She rolled right onto Cass, who in the mornings always seemed to be comprised entirely of knees and elbows, and whose shoulder blade caught Steph in the chin. Muttering to herself, she shifted around to get comfortable. Cass never woke up; she could sleep through Steph literally stepping on her, as had happened once or twice on the dicey trip up from Juba. However, if anyone else so much as breathed loudly nearby, Cass would be on her feet with a weapon in hand. Steph envied that training, sometimes, and was awed by the trust Cass had in her.
For a while, she dozed, content in the safety of their little room. But eventually, the light crept further down the wall, and Steph had to face the morning. She kissed Cass' shoulder, letting her sleep, and finally crawled out of bed.
Their report last night had held some promising hints of Shiva's intentions; Babs was tracking the shipping information for a warehouse here, where some of Shiva's men had spent a long evening haggling over goods. They might just have an idea where the mysterious target actually was. Still, Steph anticipated another afternoon and evening of skulking around trying to listen to those men and decipher their plans.
She decided to fortify herself and Cass with food. There was a place nearby that sold delicious sfinz, a sort of flat doughnut that Steph had come to love, especially topped with date molasses. Cass preferred the version with an egg fried atop it, which Steph liked too, but her sweet tooth always prevailed. She dressed to go out, in a slightly different disguise.
They had moved south to the town of Sabha, following Shiva, and they were lucky that this town had a decent amount of tourists. Fort Elena was actually on the back of the currency, and the military had chased out the rebel groups, so things had calmed down enough that Steph and Cass could still blend in. Around here, though, the farrashia were too old-fashioned, enough so to draw attention. Steph and Cass had switched to wearing the niqab instead. It covered all of their faces except a narrow strip around the eyes, and came down over their shoulders as well. With long-sleeved blouses and long skirts, it was enough to hide their identities without looking out of place. There was a bit of a cultural push for more strict interpretations of modesty, and most of the adherents wore the niqab, which was otherwise more of a Gulf-state thing.
Steph didn't really care. She'd gotten used to wearing several variations of local clothes, and to her surprise the long layers of dark fabric weren't stifling hot like she would've expected. And she felt safely anonymous, where she would've been noticed if her whole face and very light blonde hair were visible. Cass wasn't as comfortable, feeling as if her movement was restricted, but Steph wasn't planning on doing any running or fighting when she was incognito.
She made her way unremarked to the shop, and waited in line, listening to conversations around her out of habit. Someone's cousin was getting married, and the two young men murmuring about it sounded both excited for the new groom, and a little jealous. Someone else was on the phone, talking business. And two teenage girls were complaining about their mothers. Steph grinned; some things were universal.
The line moved forward, and the woman at the head of it walked to the doors with her package of sfinz. Steph's mouth watered, smelling both honey and date molasses, and she glanced up at the woman with a smile. Of course, no one could see her mouth, but she'd learned how to decipher expressions from just the eyes, and presumably so could everyone else who lived here. Amazing how much information was in a person's eyes…
This woman's eyes, behind a niqab like her own, were a piercing light green. They glanced through Steph – then suddenly she looked back, more intent. Something about her was sharper than her surroundings, somehow, as if she were in focus and the rest of the people in the shop weren't.
Making eye contact had been a mistake. They weren't supposed to draw attention to themselves, and the last thing Steph needed was someone deciding that she wasn't being quite modest enough. She should've avoided drawing attention to herself.
Lucky for her, shyness was considered a good thing. Steph looked down at the ground, trying to seem humble. The woman swept past her without a word, and Steph breathed out. Hell, maybe the woman had mistaken Steph for one of the young firebrands, and thought she'd been about to be judged somehow.
She ordered her breakfast – brunch, really – in a polite murmur, paid, and headed back to their rooms. On the way, she overheard another murmured conversation, and slowed her steps. Steph couldn't linger; Sabha was a large town, but not so large that she could easily vanish into a crowd. And the place was surrounded by desert, making it difficult to leave unnoticed.
Two men were talking softly as they walked, and Steph kept her head down, trying to match their pace, listening hard. "The daughter will not come?" one asked gruffly.
"She has other concerns. And she fears the lady. She will not come here, unless he forces her hand, and then they will both come, with reinforcements," the second replied, with a contemptuous tone.
The way the first said the daughter sounded like a title, and Steph knew Shiva's people had a reason to worry about a daughter. The Daughter of the Demon, Talia al Ghul, might be expected to come here and put down Shiva's rebellion. He'd said the lady too, and that could mean Lady Shiva.
Steph risked a careful glance. She didn't recognize the second man, but the first was one she'd seen before, in the north. So they probably were Shiva's, and they probably were talking about the Demon's Daughter, and oh boy, if they looked too closely at her and noticed anything out of the ordinary, things could get ugly fast.
Even while her mind was calculating the best routes of escape and conjuring up thoroughly unhelpful worst-case scenarios, Steph kept listening in. The first man asked, "You're bold, to speak ill of your former master."
The second chuckled. "You are bold, my friend, to rebel against our former master. And frankly, I am exhausted by the quarrels between father and daughter. Family strife like that should not affect a great cause like ours. We were promised a purpose, a duty to the entire world. It isn't right to turn men like us into babysitters."
"Be careful. The lady respects them both," the first man said. They were coming to a cross-street, and Steph hoped they kept on. If they turned, and she turned to follow them, they'd surely notice. The League of Shadows trained its men well, if not quite as well as Batman trained his Robins.
"Good. She won't be foolhardy when we face them. It is time for a change in management. The lady's goals are more in line with what we should be. But that will not make the fight against them an easy one."
This time, the first man chuckled. "It will be easier, once we take the compound in the Tribesti Mountains. It is well-defended."
"Indeed. The problem with making a fortress your stronghold is that you must take it first. I assume you have plans?" The second man looked dubious.
"Of course. Not here." The first man glanced around, hesitating, and Steph was glad she'd only been watching them with peripheral vision. She passed them, continuing on, and they turned down the road. Steph let out a sigh, glad to be away from danger, and quickened her pace. At least she had a solid clue.
She passed the woman from the shop, lingered at a market stall, and Steph's feverish mind wondered if she'd been listening to the men, too. It would've taken more surveillance skill than Steph had, to stay in front of them and still hear them, without attracting notice. No, coincidences did happen, this was the main marketing street where everyone did their shopping. It didn't have to mean anything.
The whole detective side of things wasn't her strong suit, and she knew it. Bruce would've already calculated the odds, given the population size and time of day, that this woman was here purposefully or by random chance. And frankly, no matter how unlikely it was, he would automatically assume she was also spying on the men. Or spying on Steph. They called him the World's Greatest Detective for his insights and skillful deductions … but his own people also called him the World's Biggest Paranoid, behind his back.
Tim had turned purple, trying not to laugh out loud, when Steph said that. And once he could breathe properly again, he admitted Dick had a similar nickname for Batman.
Steph sighed, missing all of them. The boys, the Birds, Bruce himself, the Titans, hell, even missing Crown Point. She liked Africa, she'd loved being able to do things that mattered in South Sudan, and here in the north she liked the food and the people, too. But none of it was home, and she couldn't forget that this was a dangerous part of the world, just now. Even more dangerous for her and Cass, trying to tiptoe around the League of Shadows.
She made it back to their room, and found Cass awake, blinking at her. "I brought breakfast, and a clue," Steph said brightly, handing over the food.
Cass sat up sharply at that, her eyes widening, and Steph related the whole morning's adventure as they portioned out the sfinz. "So it sounds like we're headed south again," she said. One thing still bothered her. "I'm just being spooked out by the woman in the shop, right? Nobody else is working this case."
"None of ours," Cass replied, warily. She reached out and tapped Steph's chest. "Trust instincts. You noticed her. Could be important."
Steph frowned. "Yeah, but it's damn hard to track down somebody based on a few seconds passing in the street. These clothes work a little too well as a disguise. I couldn't pick her out of a lineup…"
She trailed off thoughtfully, and Cass waited. "Maybe I could," Steph said. "You get all kinds of eye colors around here, a lot of dark, but mine aren't that unusual. Neither is green. Hers were a very light green, though. I might know her, if I saw her again."
Cass stared at her. "Talia al Ghul has green eyes," she finally said.
Now that was extra super-spooky, and Steph shivered. "No way," she whispered. "Those guys were saying she wouldn't be here. And even if she was, wouldn't she be running around with, like, a literal army?"
Cass only shrugged. "The men could be wrong. Talia could be hiding. Must tell Oracle."
And Oracle might just pull them out, for that. Steph felt relieved … and then a stubborn little spark rose up in her. She hated being treated like a invalid, even if she probably technically was one. It was far too much like being a failure. For a wild moment, she considered telling Cass not to say anything…
But common sense prevailed. "Yeah, okay, let's update her." She pulled out the netbook, careful not to get any sticky-sweet date molasses on it, and fired it up.
Cass snuggled close at her side as Steph ran through the verification protocols and waited for Babs to reply. As usual, she came in quickly, despite how late it was in Gotham. Steph trusted in the encryption software, and typed in a summary of her morning. Including the woman who'd seemed to take notice of her.
Babs' response took a bit longer than she would've thought. I'd tell you to pull out, if I thought you'd go.
That was … more candid than she'd expected, and Steph leaned back from the screen. "What the…?" she muttered, then shook her head. You think it's Talia?
I think it's dangerous, no matter what, Babs replied. If Talia is there, it's even more dangerous, intolerably so. We have a general location now, thanks to your investigation. I could send agents to look further into it.
Cass shook her head, frowning. Steph typed quickly, You already have agents here. C'mon Oracle, what are we trained for?
NOT stopping a civil war within the League of Shadows! The reply came back so fast that Steph could see Babs in her mind's eye, typing furiously.
Steph sighed, and gritted her teeth. Well, you said it yourself. We wouldn't leave anyway. So are you gonna send the Birds to sit on us?
A pause, and Cass kissed her shoulder, watching quietly. Then the green text rolled across the screen again. The truth is, I CAN'T. Joker's awake. He appears cognizant, with some memory loss, and partial paralysis. They suspect brain damage. *I* suspect he's faking it all. We're barely holding a lid on this town. Everyone is trying to take over his position. Harley's still free, too.
That sent a shiver down Steph's spine. Carefully, she typed back, Sounds like it'd be almost as dangerous back home.
I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that I can't force Batgirl to leave Shiva's trail. And that you won't leave her. So as long as you're ONLY doing surveillance, I have to admit leaving you in place is the best option.
Steph sighed, looking at Cass. "Well, we've got clearance to keep following her. For now. You good with that, Batgirl?"
Cass nodded, and Steph narrowed her eyes. "We're only watching. Once we know exactly where Shiva is, or exactly what she wants, we call it in and leave it to the big guns. That's why we work for Babs, remember? She has more experience than both of us, so she makes the calls."
Just the slightest hesitation before Cass nodded again. And when Steph continued staring at her, she spoke reluctantly. "Yes."
Turning back to the keyboard, Steph typed, OK, we're on watch only. I made sure Cass agrees. If we get anything concrete, we'll call it in.
Good. Be careful, both of you. You're a long way from home.
Steph signed off, thinking nothing had ever been so uncomfortably true.
…
Afterward, Jay lit a cigarette and offered it to Kala. She shook her head, burrowing into his side with a content sigh, and he grinned at her. "I take it that was worth the flight?"
That smile, it never failed to warm you, even when it was somewhat lost in a fall of black hair. "You're always worth the flight," she murmured, slipping an arm around his waist, tossing her tumbled hair out of her eyes to steal a kiss before settling back again. "Even when we only have time to patrol. This's the only part of my life that's going right, these days."
"Okay, when coming to Gotham to beat up gangsters and supervillains is the only thing going right, you really need to reexamine some shit," Jay managed to laugh. "Kicking your asswipe manager out was a good first step, though. Maybe you can get some sanity back in the other half of your life."
Kala looked up at him, her hazel eyes serious. "Most people would be telling me to ditch the band, and come spend more time with them."
"Most people are assholes. Not that I'm not an asshole, too, I just want you to be happy. And until this run with the jerkwad manager and things with your co-singer going haywire, you fuckin' loved being a singer. Remember how pissed you got when I asked you why that, of all careers?" Jay raised his brows at her, worrying. Maybe she really was going to flush the rock star gig down the drain, and he didn't like any move that drastic.
"It's not fun anymore," she whispered with a thoughtful expression, her tone longing. "I mean, it was always more work than people think, but … everything I loved about it is just gone. I don't even look at the forums anymore, it's too damn toxic. If it wasn't for the boys and the fans, I'd hang it up right now."
Jay knew why. Some of it – a lot of it – was the manager being a dickwad. But the biggest change in her life recently was Sebast walking out. That was the main reason why the whole KLK thing was a drain right now.
It made Jay feel guilty, in a way, because if she and Sebast had sorted things out, he wouldn't be dating Kala now. And if Sebast hadn't left, Kala might not be over here every chance she could get, looking for someone who understood her.
He had no idea what to tell her. Emotional support wasn't really his strong suit, anyway, and Jay had very few friends in his life, so he didn't quite know how to sympathize with losing one. He also hadn't had a driving passion turn sour on him the way she had. Reading never went stale, and it wasn't a performance type of thing that could turn problematic. Jay found himself utterly at a loss for words. But she had once said he just needed to be there. Maybe he was already doing enough.
"I dunno, K," Jay finally said. "I guess … don't give up yet. If you wanna throw in the towel, I understand that. The last thing you are is a quitter. If you're even thinking about giving it up, it's been hell. But you worked too long and fought too hard for this. At least wait until after New Year's. Maybe things will turn around. Besides, your hundreds of thousands of screaming fans will wanna see you. I sure can't blame them, I look forward to seeing you, too. So, maybe hold on a little longer? I'm not gonna turn into a pumpkin if you can't be here every day."
She looked up at him, those huge hazel eyes filled with something Jay couldn't name, and then Kala closed them on a sigh, giving him a brief smile. "I don't deserve you, you know that?" she whispered, curling into his side.
Jay startled a bit at that. "Yeah, well, you put up with me gracefully despite that."
He'd hoped Kala would snark back at him for that, but she only cuddled as close as possible, as if the cure for her unhappiness could somehow infuse from his skin to hers.
Part of him wanted to run from anything that so much as hinted at need … but oh, God, he needed her too. Kala blew into his life like a whirlwind, opening doors he'd thought were barred forever; she made him feel in ways he hadn't been able or hadn't let himself since the Pit. She was good for him, and the thought of losing her made him nauseous. He didn't want anyone depending on him, because his life was a long series of spectacular fuck-ups and the less collateral damage he caused, the better. But Kala … maybe it didn't have to be like that with Kala.
So Jay held her tighter, kissed her forehead, and rubbed her shoulders, hoping she could manage to get some rest here with him. She nuzzled even closer, wanting every inch of contact she could get, and Jay realized all over again just how warm she was. Without the layers of his uniform, the apartment was cold, but Kala damn near sizzled wherever he touched her. "Is it really that damn cold in here, or are you just that hot?" he asked, the double meaning catching him only after he'd said it.
Kala laughed, brushing her nose against his chin; the very tip of her nose was a little cold, while the rest of her was sauna-warm. "Both?" she ventured, her eyes sparkling. "Is both an option?"
"Yeah, both is an option," Jay chuckled, and the hell with it. No one else was around to give him grief about being cutesy, so he snuggled up to her.
Even if Babs had snuck cameras into his apartment – which he was pretty sure she wouldn't do – he could always claim it was just about the weather. Kala was a whole lot more comfortable to cuddle than a hot water bottle.