[ 7:20 am; txt; sent ] who’s in your bed then?
[ 7:21 am; txt; sent ] also we’re out of milk. ): ): ):
[ 7:23 am; txt; sent ] Go look, if you’re so curious. I think her name was Amy. Annie? Andrea. Something. See if she wants cereal, when you go get milk.
[ 7:12 am; txt; sent ] hey old man, when are you going to get out of bed
[7:13 a,; txt; sent] I’m in the Narrows, kid. What do you want?
Navigating the city was tough any day, but the added traffic from the Cobble Hill fire made it worse. After a frustrating ten minutes stuck in Columbia Point, Jason abandoned the low profile tactic. Gunning his bike, he shot past the cops, tossing an EMP at the squad car in front. The lights shut off immediately, and no one followed him.
Weaving in and out of the still packed street, Jason got to South Channel Island soon after, calling Kori on the Hood as he slowed down on the Roxbury Bridge. Henri had said the turf war was on Ryders and Ash, and Jason parked his bike less than a block away.
Twin .45’s, check. Garrote wire, check. Sword, check. Bandolier, ammo belt, sawed off, check, check, check. Switching on the air lock for the Hood, he called Kori on the comms. “I’m here. Gimme the skinny on Harp while I make my way to you.”
It didn’t really matter what had happened to Harper; he was a SEAL, and a warrior too. More than likely, he’d taken a glancing hit that Henri or Kori had worried enough about to force him to stay. Sure enough, his voice came over the comm, clear as a bell.
“Hey fuck you, Jaybird. I’m here watching you have all the fun. Dick says hi. There’s Armani’s pizza waiting for when y’all get back.”
Jason snorted. Armani’s was universally terrible, but it was five bucks for a whole pie. Harper couldn’t stay away. He was jogging now, finding the rooftop that Kori’s locator placed her at. A grapple took him to the top, some old highrise that never got completed. A few squatters, innocent bystanders. His boots crunched on the gravel as he approached her.
“Greeks and the Triads, huh? This is not gonna be pretty." Jason laughed, a dark chuckle.
"Let’s send ‘em all to hell, Starfire.”
The edges of Gotham began to dissolve around them, and for a moment she was no longer moving, just standing in awe of poetic words and pure praise. Then instantly she was hyper aware; pink clambered up her neck, staining her cheeks. Embarrassment coated her mouth and words stuck somewhere in the back of her throat.“What can I say risky is my middle name. Although, typically my middle name is stubborn.” Her mouth softened into a smile as she tipped her chin up, attempting to keep him at eye level. “Does anyone ever truly work alone in this city? Don’t worry about me, Hood. I do alright.” Barbara shrugged, sarcastic lilt spilling over her tongue.
“Maybe I like the assumptions ––” Before she could conclude her statement, he had pulled her dangerously close, lips meeting and connecting seamlessly. Her muscles felt like they were thawing, arms wrapping tighter around his shoulders.
He pulled away, turning back to face the city. “It doesn’t really matter, anyway. If you’re not bothered, then why should I be?”
A plume of smoke drifted east, contrasting starkly against the black waters. Sirens echoed against concrete and stone, sending a confusing array of noise at the pair of vigilantes. It didn’t make for a very romantic setting. Jay’s phone pulsed, an update from Henri. [Arsenal took a bullet in Trillium Park. He’s back at HQ. Starfire is en route to the Mob scuffle on Channel Island.] He looked back up, frowning.
“Batsie…I should get going. Duty calls."
One last kiss, and he was over the edge, slipping his helmet on as he free-fell to the ground. A grapple stopped his momentum, and he was on his bike in minutes.
So much for normal.
We were something together, I wouldn’t call it a team
Just big trouble and little kindness
When I know that the best parts are so behind us
Keep the pride tucked, more than bad luck
I ain’t messed up, I’m just wishing what we needed wasn’t less us
and all of this will never be the same again 