"You can't just come back here, and be a creature of the night, Babs," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. She smiled at him, at the softness of the gesture even if it wasn't his skin brushing against her forehead, but the kevlar enforced gloves.
"You're one to talk, Bats," she replied.
"And you know what I mean. Don't come back here to just be Oracle. Don't come back to just mentor and hide away. I know you don't have the girls, but you can still live."
"And what makes you think I'm not?" she asked, even as she turned back to the glowing screen of the computer, her eyes doing a quick scan.
"Want to go on a date?"
"With you? Ew, gross," she replied, still watching the computers, but now there was the tiniest smile on her lips. She felt his hands rest on her shoulders, and she relaxed almost instantly.
"I'm just worried about you."
"And I'm worried about you, but the difference here is that I don't make assumptions. I know you feel like the world is crushing down on you. I know you feel you have to prove yourself to Damian, to me, to Alfred, to Tim, and I know you think even Bruce is still around watching and judging. I know that's why you are darker than I ever wanted to see. But, I'll tell you something, Mr Detective, I've been out and about. I've been doing things. I even got a job."
"What?"
"Shocked," she asked, turning around, "angry Babs stops feeling sorry for herself and decides to contribute to society."
"That's not what I meant," he snapped, and she reached a hand out to him, which he took.
"I was teasing, Dick," she replied, placing a kiss on the back of that hand, "and this is why you need to relax. Trust me. I work in the University."
Suddenly, a slightly evil grin spread across his lips, "So that means I have to call you Professor Gordon?"
She snorted with laughter and shook her head.
"But...it'll help me relax," he said in a smoother, more insistent tone, and she grinned.
"Well, Mr Grayson, if that's the case," she said as she dragged him to the bedroom, "I think we need to discuss your performance in class."
no subject
"You're one to talk, Bats," she replied.
"And you know what I mean. Don't come back here to just be Oracle. Don't come back to just mentor and hide away. I know you don't have the girls, but you can still live."
"And what makes you think I'm not?" she asked, even as she turned back to the glowing screen of the computer, her eyes doing a quick scan.
"Want to go on a date?"
"With you? Ew, gross," she replied, still watching the computers, but now there was the tiniest smile on her lips. She felt his hands rest on her shoulders, and she relaxed almost instantly.
"I'm just worried about you."
"And I'm worried about you, but the difference here is that I don't make assumptions. I know you feel like the world is crushing down on you. I know you feel you have to prove yourself to Damian, to me, to Alfred, to Tim, and I know you think even Bruce is still around watching and judging. I know that's why you are darker than I ever wanted to see. But, I'll tell you something, Mr Detective, I've been out and about. I've been doing things. I even got a job."
"What?"
"Shocked," she asked, turning around, "angry Babs stops feeling sorry for herself and decides to contribute to society."
"That's not what I meant," he snapped, and she reached a hand out to him, which he took.
"I was teasing, Dick," she replied, placing a kiss on the back of that hand, "and this is why you need to relax. Trust me. I work in the University."
Suddenly, a slightly evil grin spread across his lips, "So that means I have to call you Professor Gordon?"
She snorted with laughter and shook her head.
"But...it'll help me relax," he said in a smoother, more insistent tone, and she grinned.
"Well, Mr Grayson, if that's the case," she said as she dragged him to the bedroom, "I think we need to discuss your performance in class."