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"Wine?”
“No, thank you. I’m driving tonight.”
Anyone else wouldn’t catch Barbara’s catty undertone. But anyone else wasn’t her ex and best friend Dick Grayson, or one of the deadliest hitmen in the world with superior hearing, AKA Deathstroke, aka Dick’s fucking new paramour Slade Wilson. Not to mention the fourth person in the room, Barbara’s own girlfriend, who just wanted everybody to survive the night in one piece and held her tongue every time Barbara traded barbs with the meta that was dating their mutual ex.
But Kory should know better, since Babs had been against this night all along. It had taken the Tamaranean a lot to persuade her girlfriend to give this double-dating a shot. Not that Kory hadn’t enjoyed the persuasion bit…
But even all the arguments about subtle interrogation couldn’t steer the former vigilante away from her chosen path — you could take the cape off Batgirl, but you couldn’t strip off her spirit. And Oracle was proof enough that even if she didn’t venture into the field as often, Barbara could still fight you off with a keyboard and decimate you with her words. Language, no matter the shape it took, computer or otherwise, Barbara turned it into an art form.
And that was never any clearer than now as she faced off against Deathstroke in the man’s own home.
Kory and Dick exchanged a look over the glass and sighed.
Who knew their lovers were so alike? Well, Dick ought’ve known. But he didn’t look amused.
Taking a sip, Kory readied to smooth things out.
“What Barbara means is that we’re curious about how you two been finding living together so far? Bludhaven is pretty—”
“Pretty convenient to avoid the in-laws,” Barbara cut in.
“—neutral, pretty neutral considering Gotham’s proclivity for chaos, spectacle and mayhem. No Penguins, Scarecrows, or Riddlers to speak of. Right, Babs?” Kory interrupted, giving her girlfriend a long look. It’s not that Babs was wrong, but Starfire was getting pretty tired of playing good cop to her bad cop. They needed to be a united front here.
She’s pulling out the long-ass words. Shit, she’s pissed!
Barbara grimaced. It was bad enough that Kory was channelling Princess Koriand’r, but to turn the diplomatic shit into long and elaborate language was a sure signal that her green-eyed goddess was mad at her, that she would not get her promised dessert tonight if she kept on poking the beast — Kory, alright. She was not afraid of Wilson!
“We’re just going to check out the man, see if he’s worthy of Dick. Two hours. Just two hours, my love. Then we’ll come back, and you can forget this night ever happened,” Kory had said, brushing a lock away and caressing her face tenderly. “We just need to be smart about it. Honey catches more bugs than sour wine.” She got out of bed and leaned against the bathroom door, green eyes never leaving her.
“It’s flies and vinegar. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” Barbara corrected half-heartedly.
She knew Kory spoke perfect English and did that just to get a rise out of her. Half the time, she didn’t mind, not when she thought about how that particular skill came about and remembered all the talents her girlfriend’s tongue was capable of.
She didn’t mind it now.
She just preferred to worship her princess’s body and explore her wicked mouth rather than to spend the night playing nice and safe with Dick’s asshole partner, supervillain not-sugar-daddy, mercenary version. No, thank you.
How could she even digest anything that man called cooking? she whispered in Kory’s ear as she trapped her against the door, listing all the things she’d like to devour instead.
Hard (to) pass.
Two hours… Later
But here she was, after Kory employed some wicked persuasion of her own, and left her weak in the knees to resist her commands; pliant body easily carried in her alien, powerful arms as they made into the car.
Was it kidnapping if you were willing? If you found it totally hot when your girlfriend went all general on you—or over you…?
Twenty-five minutes, and she had to cool herself down before she embarrassed herself in front of their best friend and mutual ex, or worse, his new partner (in the loosest sense of the word) and ruined any chance at interrogation because she was too flushed with lust for her fiery goddess. Damn, get a grip on yourself, Barbara!
And if she hated the fucker more for being a god-fucking-forbid chef, then she had one more slight on her list against Slade Wilson.
Isn’t it obvious? One more reason why Dick should get the hell out of dodge and leave the goddamned mercenary. How could Kory even entertain the idea that Slade Fucking Wilson could, in any conceivable world, be a potential partner for Dick? Partnership was the most remote word in that man’s vocabulary.
Sure, when the breakup inevitably happened, it would make their next meetings a bit awkward for a few months, filled with too many milkshakes and a mopey Dick’s too many melancholic rants, but she could suffer through it.
He would pull through, their friendship would survive, and more importantly, Dick would be out of a deadly arrangement with a madman no one in their right mind would ever consider a partner. Maybe they could even borrow Damian for a day or two to shake Grayson’s blue haze.
If only they could see it too. Her girl was too set on being polite, and Dick too blind with rose-colored glasses to see the writing on the wall.
Wilson just seemed to enjoy riling her up. The bastard! She should be the one riling him up!
Instead, all she managed to get out were catty remarks here and there, and the rarer scathing ones like a fucking teenager in a high school spat. Where was her fucking word prowess that Kory loved to praise her for now??
Barbara was losing ground — and pissing Kory off, fast.
Would she survive the night unscathed?
She sighed. Maybe Kory had a point — time to tone down a bit.
The smile she put on felt alien on her face, muscles stiff as she held her tongue in check. Fist clenching beneath the table.
Across the table, Wilson’s single eye glinted as she felt pins and needles as her hand went numb. Could he hear her blood vessels throbbing with that fucking hearing of his? See her fist going white beneath the table, with his fucking eye — metahuman, not Kryptonian, Barbara!
She felt her babe’s hand over hers, unclenching her fist and massaging the flow back to normal.
Wilson looked unbearably smug at her silence. Before anything, Dick scraped his chair back as he stood up, cutting off any remark that could’ve been said. Kory quickly joined him as they made excuses to grab dessert from the kitchen.
Two hours and counting…