"I've concluded something," Admitted Stephanie as she poked a waffle in her waffle iron, sighing as she found it undercooked. "I need to date."
"Why do you feel the need to tell me this?" Rang the words of Barbara Gordon through the tinny speaker of her phone.
"Because Cass doesn't care about my love life that much", Stephanie grimaced to herself as she removed the waffle from the cooker anyway and found the other side to be burnt. "And you have already attempted to talk to me about it."
"I was trying to—" Barbara sighed, giving up on explaining what she was trying to do. It could be starting a goat farm for all Stephanie knew, Barbara decided to continue the previous conversation. "And how did you come to this grand conclusion that you need to return to the dating pool, Stephanie Brown?" Barbara's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"I looked at Tim," Stephanie replied, throwing away the waffle before pouring another. "All roughed up with no one to take care of him, and you know what I thought? If I don't get out and do something this is going to be it, the rest of my life chasing after some guy in a gimp suit's hood that can't take care of himself."
"Fair."
"And you know, I don't want that." Stephanie continued. "I want someone better, someone who I don't have to worry about." She closed the waffle iron. "I want someone who fully believes in my abilities but can also take care of himself."
"Tim can take care of himself." Barbara pointed out, unhelpfully.
"Yeah, but, he still needs someone at the end of the day and I don't need anyone." Actual adult, Stephanie Brown.
The audible snort from Bab's line did not deter the blonde.
"I'm serious, I'm an adult now." The waffle iron started to smoke.
"An adult you may be, but independent you are not." A flurry of typing was heard in the background of Barbara's call. "Stephanie Brown, I've known you for long enough to state that you and Tim will continue this dance for the rest of your lives."
"Except we won't." Stephanie turned to open the waffle iron quickly. Thank god it was just crispy. One waffle for burnboy, zero for Steph so far. "Because I am stopping the music. I'm taking the batteries out of the radio."
"I doubt that knowing you Tim is in that apartment as we speak." Barbara sighed.
"He's not." She was lying. He was still in her bed and withering in pain from his burns, she knew because she woke up an inch from his face.
Which just strengthened the resolve to find someone new.
"You're lying."
"I'm not." She changed the topic quickly. "Anyway, I downloaded Tinder."
"Oh no." Several clicking noises.
Stephanie poured another waffle. "Mhmm, I have five dates tonight alone."
"I have never heard such a horrible idea."
Stephanie hummed to herself as she watched the iron begin to cook the waffle.
"Stephanie, you do realize you are attempting tinder dates in the crime capital of the world?" A slight chuckle was heard in the background, it appeared that Barbara had recently acquired company. There was a muffled greeting.
"Barbara please," Stephanie laughed, finally pulling out a perfectly cooked waffle. A sign from the gods. "I'm a former superhero." The words somehow stung.
"Even worse."
"There's frozen peas in the fridge if you get hungry." Stephanie joked from the bathroom, washing off yet another failed attempt at makeup.
Who knew applying even foundation could be such a chore?
"I honestly want to leave your apartment with every fiber of my being." Complained Tim from her couch, laying hopelessly there with his peeling skin.
"Not my fault you decided to go here instead of home." She replied, pouring the foundation onto her hand. "If you had been smart you would have realized come daylight that you wouldn't be able to come home until it was dark out, the Bear."
"I'm sorry that I had to have the human decency to tell you everyone was okay."
"You look like an undercooked chicken breast dumped in cornflakes." She pointed out.
"What if I don't get out before one of your many suitors arrives?"
"Easy, you're my roommate who has eczema." Stephanie slapped the foundation onto her face using her hands, smearing it all around with her palms. Good, full coverage.
Tim shook his head, calling back to her. " Don't wear heels, you're going to do a lot of running tonight."
"Ha ha, so funny." She began trying to apply eyeliner lightly.
Her hand slipped.
Thick eyeliner it would be.
"I'm serious, there's a reason we're called the—"
"Crime capital of the world." Damn, finishing Tim's sentences made her screw up her eye. Time to wash her face and start again.
"You have a much better chance of finding love in Metropolis, I don't understand why you're so determined to date while you're in Gotham." He reached for the remote, wincing in pain.
"I have a good feeling about this." She began her smearing routine again, feeling the texture of Covergirl fill her pores. "Like whatever happens, I'm just going to go with it."
"Coincidentally, I have a very bad feeling." He dropped the remote, irritated that this meant he had to move his charred flesh more.
"You give me bad feelings." If she slaps the foundation the coverage looks far different.
"You make my skin peel."
Stephanie snorted at the wrong moment and managed to get the whole pot of liquid eyeliner all over her chin.
This looked even worse.
She made a rather audible groan.
"Do you need help?"
"No," She replied rather rushed, "I can do this, I used to do makeup all the time."
Tim rolled his eyes, stretching as he stood up from the couch. The noises his skin made as it crackled from being stretched disturbed him greatly.
He bared the walk of the hallway, every step like shards of glass being shoved into his body. She stood in front of the mirror of the bathroom, directly beside the door.
Her face was rather screwed up in an expression of frustration as she attempted to rub all the make-up off of her face. She wore a t-shirt that he knew very well was from a pickle factory, one of her favorites from high school.
Beside himself, he smiled, stepping forward and appearing in the mirror behind her. She glared up at him with her towel to her face, stained orange with too many layers of foundation.
He shook his head and attempted to grab the towel from her hand.
She huffed at him and turned around.
"If it means anything," He began, "I don't think—"
"Shut up Tim, you look like the Phantom of the Opera."
"So you—" Stephanie tried to find an explanation for his obsession.
"I just really like them, I'm not sure why." The man confessed.
"But like—"
"Listen if this is too weird for you—" He was beginning to get irritated with the blonde.
"I'm just not quite getting it.." She admitted to him, beginning to casually load back up her purse. This date was a definite no.
"It's good work, really." He definitely was irritated.
"But that's all you do all day?"
"Yes, all I do all day is sell them, it's not that hard of a concept."
She was loaded up and ready to go. "But what are they about? I mean what can you sell comics about in a city dominated by heroes?"
"Superheroes." He stated blankly.
"Okay, but there are people here who—You know what, just fuck it." She shook her head, standing. "It was great to meet you, but I'm leaving." So much for just going with whatever the night gave her.
She felt she could love him when he saw her across the way and his smile lit up his handsome face. A chiseled jaw, soft facial hair, and a very well defined chest. She could see tufts of his chest hair poking underneath his collar.
He was almost too perfect.
Then she saw his t-shirt had a name tag still on it reading Dave.
And matched that of the personnel of those around her.
And she looked down.
And it blinked.
Dear god a parole bracelet.
She turned on her heel and quickly began to walk away.
One owned a failing comic shop.
One did not own anything.
One had a parole bracelet.
And the other one had to cancel for AA.
But five.
Number five, Nigel.
Well, he did not show up.
At all.
What a great way to start her dating experience.
Up until he sat across from her she was just another lonely girl sitting in a bar in a pickle factory t-shirt. Sure, she had many appetizers to fill the feeling of being a disappointment to society.
But then he sat across from her and she felt like there was no way she could really be a disappointment.
"Blondie." His voice was slick like vodka.
Which Stephanie knows from experience goes down like shards of glass.
"Jason." She said, her voice lacking all pleasantries.
"How's my little brother holding up?" He smiled too large, too fake.
She sighed and shook her head, packing once more to leave again.
He rolled his eyes at her, standing up to leave at the same time as her.
"You really don't want to go home this early and face Tim, do you?" He asked, somehow managing to keep pace with her even as she changed into the stride that she thought clearly communicated not to talk to her.
The don't talk walk.
"It's better than spending time with the guy who looks like Pepe Le Pew." She responded, charging her way out of the door.
"Ouch, that hurts." A slight laugh, he kept beside her steadily no matter how fast she moved. "But I guess you could say I'm hardly anemic."
What?
"What?" She stopped.
"Iron deficient-"
"I know what anemia is, dumbass—"
"It's funny because I was hit with a crowbar." He shrugged. "A rusty iron crowbar."
"Oh." She shook her head and continued walking, albeit slightly slower.
"Got you to stop and think, though." A smirk. "So what are you doing tonight?"
She cast him a confused look, picking up the pace again. "Going home to spend the night with Tim until enough dark has fallen for him to leave my house."
"Wrong." He verbally whipped the red pen out on her.
"How so?" She asked quizzingly.
"You are I are going out—"
"I'm really not interested in the Boy Who Died." Stephanie adjusted her purse strap.
"You didn't let me finish." There was mild irritation in his voice. "You and I are going out on patrol."
"You really are crazy. That crowbar scattered your brains, skunk head." She replied evenly. "Do it on your own."
"Would but can't." He hit her lightly with his shoulder. "Serious business is going to be going down tonight-"
"Get a partner." She rolled her eyes.
"I'm trying." He stated. "I was just thinking to myself that it's unfortunate that all my regulars are out of town, and lo and behold! A blonde comes into view in my normal drinking hole."
"You normally drink at the Smog and Smug Bar?"
"On the days when they have deals on drinks, sure." His hand lightly gripped her wrist. "That's beside the point."
"The point is?"
"I'm offering you a night of fun, of joy, of adventures."
"God no." She wrenched her wrist out of his grip. "Not with you."
"Cassandra said you missed it." He threw out Cass's name, hoping to get something out of the blonde.
"That's none of your business." She was plain about it, suddenly cutting to take a sharp turn into an alley that Jason knew led into a maze of others.
He placed his hand on her shoulder to avoid losing her but found her tensing her legs and getting ready to run. "I wouldn't tell anyone if it helps."
"It doesn't."
"I'll pay for drinks." He suggested.
While not an alcoholic Stephanie found herself slowing.
A quotation from herself worriedly flew into her.
She turned to face him with her sudden change of heart.
"-You know what? Whatever happens, I'm just going to go with it."
Tim was still laying on the couch watching meaningless tv when she came home, just as she figured. He had spent almost the whole day in her apartment lounging around in his too small pajama pants with his underwear shoved into the pocket.
She grimaced at the thought when he finally noticed that she had come home.
He nodded, seemingly to himself, and finally sat up for the day.
"How were the dates?"
"Bad." Simple enough, truthful enough.
"How bad?"
"Bad bad. How was the tv?"
"I watched Jerry Springer for five hours." Something about his voice gave her the feeling that this was not a pleasing experience.
"It was dark about three hours ago you know—"
"I was waiting for you." He admitted. She almost felt a tiny bit sorry, but she had expected that response. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I somehow dodged the axe murdering portion of Tinder."
"It's very hard to murder someone with an axe I've heard." There was a slight grin on his face as he said it, he started to stand.
She nodded at him, swallowing hard for a reason she wasn't entirely sure of.
"Well, I think it's about time I went home." He nodded to himself as well, moving towards the door.
She nodded to him and opened the door. He held her gaze for a moment as he left, offering a slight smile to her as she began to close the door.
She returned the smile, feeling a light-heartedness developing inside herself.