Part 2
by Darklady
Location: DC Universe... 'Bird' AU.
Rated: PG ( Also H for Hunk )
PS: Standard Disclaimer. If I was dating a billionaire I would try and own these guys, but no such luck. Damn.
(Dinah's POV)
^^V^^ ^BC^ ^^V^^ ^BC^ ^^V^^ ^BC^
The dress came early. I was on time. He was late.
Twenty minutes in the hotel lobby with no company but the usual aged magazines and I was ready to kill. The only question was who. This Wayne guy for standing me up, or Barb for setting me up with a guy who *would* stand me up. I had just about settled on *both* when *he* walked through the door. 210 lbs. of well-filled Armanni and blue eyes to die for.
"Miss Lance?" The flash of perfect teeth was damn-near blinding.
"Mr. Wayne?". I hold out my hand, and he actually *kisses* it before helping me up. Wonderful lips. Warm and dry.
He helps me into my coat, and manages just the slightest brush of fingers at the nap of my neck. Incredible. It really does raise goose bumps.
I do not believe this hunk needs Oracle to find him dates. Maybe to keep track of them, but to set him up? Which brings me to a major question.
"How do you know Barb?"
"Miss Gordon?" He blinks a bit, as if trying to place the name. "Oh, she does some research for the company -computer stuff - you'd have to ask Lucias about that. And she used to baby-sit for me."
"You look a bit big for a baby-sitter." But not too big for me, the little voice says.
"No." He blinks again. "My son... Dick Grayson."
Son? "You're divorced?" I ask carefully.
"No."
"My defenses are shrieking 'married man', but he continues.
"I mean - I never married.. I mean, well, Dick is my son.. but he's not *my* son... I mean...he's my ward....or was...but....well, I never quite got around to adopting him....."
I get the idea. So.....no wife to worry about. Good, because I'm not that type of girl.
The car is waiting, and it puts a halt to the conversation my the simple expedient of shocking me silent. I mean, I've ridden in limo's before, but this is the real thing. 1920-something Silver Ghost Rolls-Royce. Gray and glossy and about a mile long, with more polished chrome on one car then you'd see in most dealerships.
The uniformed driver is holding the door, and Wayne waits patiently while I settle into a seat bigger and softer then most sofas. He needs it for those shoulders.
By the time he joins me from the other side I'm breathing again. Which is wonderful, because somehow he has also managed to give this antique that wonderful new-car smell. And I thought *I* knew people with super-powers.
There's a bar - naturally - complete with ice cubes and heavy crystal. He pours me a Zesti, then gets a mineral water for himself. How did he know..? Oh, of course. Barb must have told him. Not that it matters when he has a driver, but I'm still somehow glad that he doesn't drink.
"So, Dinah." He toasts me, and the clear chime of crystal sounds when our glasses touch. "Barbara tells me that you're a 'super heroine?"
He's tones down the wattage, but this smile still warms me clear down to my toes.
"Sometimes." I answer.
"How exciting. I don't believe I've ever dated a meta-human before."
He laughs. He really,actually, has a *musical* laugh. C flat. Incredible.
"I hope you don't mind my calling you that?.
I shrug. "That's all right. I've never dated a billionaire playboy before."
"That I find hard to believe."
My turn to laugh. B sharp. "Believe it. Between private work and the J.S.A. - That doesn't leave a lot of time open for a social life."
Placing my glass and his back on the tray, he takes my hand into his much larger one. It is very warm, and as his thumb brushes my palm I feel my toes curl.
"I know what you mean." he purrs, brushing a bit of hair from my cheek. "So many obligations..." Another smile,and this one at a power level to black out Metropolis. "Well, as long as none of your meta -villain types are due in town, why don't we make the most of it?"