Warmth on a Cold Night (TriniMad)

MellowYellow

MellowYellow

Pulsar
Joined
Sep 28, 2013
Things were going south. Had been for some time now.

It had started with Barb getting shot, the damage to her spine meaning that she had to hang up the cowl. And then, some months after, the clown had decided to one-up himself and beat Jason to death. Barely a year had passed since that horror story, when some new masked psycho by the name of Bane had shown up... and snapped Bruce's spine on his knee like a twig.

Naturally Dick was distressed. One Robin dead, the newest one pulling double duty, the Bat himself out of commission... Nightwing had never felt quite so overwhelmed. On occasion Clark, or one of his friends from his Titans days would show up to pitch in, but those were only brief bits of aid. He needed someone more permanant on his side. Much as he was concerned about it, he had someone in mind.

About a month back there had been some reports of another figure taking to the streets at night, tearing into criminal of all stripes with a speed and martial arts skill that surpassed that of many people Dick knew. For as dangerous as she was, the 'Black Bat' as Vicki Vale had dubbed her would be a handy resource. And fortunately for as skilled as she was, her pattern had been easy to pick up on.

Cobblepot was pulling in guns from the Ukraine, smuggling AK's and grenades in with crates of frozen fish. A racket he'd been picking up momentum in ever since Batman's defeat went public. And no doubt the Black Bat would be drawn in like a moth to a flame.

As Dick grappled onto one leg of a towering crane, magnets in his finger tips latching him onto the metal and allowing him to hold steady, he knew his suspicion had been proven true. Down below, darting along the upper deck of the ship like a damn demon, was the Black Bat that had been all over the news these days. Knocking grown men down like bowling pins, dodging bullets with ludicrous ease.

She was violent, but he had to admire the skill.

He leapt down sharply, catapulting himself away from the rail of the crane and leaping toward the ship. In a flash he had drawn both of his ebony kali sticks and joined the fray without missing a beat.
 
"Sorry. I don’t kill… But I don’t lose either."

Those were the only words the Black Bat said as she descended down upon the scurrying henchman below from the top of the ship, swiftly using her momentum of the fall to neatly roll across the floor and take out whom Cassandra knew was the foreman of this operation. It was too easy to read his movements, the jerky body language he puffed himself up with while pointing and ordering the others, but for the moment with the man thrown against a nearby wall, there was no more of that. Then, as expected, the entire scene exploded into chaos.

Guns came whipping out, bullets flying wildly with some even hitting the very cargo that they were smuggling in and spilling chunks of fish embedded with the dark glint of metal within them. She was right, Cassandra was always right; from what she had pieced together with each crime scene that was intercepted, all the signs were the same which pointed to whom the henchman only referred to as "The Penguin" - and he was massively powerful. However, even for all his supposed power, she had no doubts that one point after another, he would be taken down by no other than herself.

For now though, it was instinct, a dance of death that she was so well-acquainted to. There was no need to think, only to breathe as Cassandra moved effortlessly among the flying bullets, eyes flickering back and forth between the panicking and shouting men shooting at her. They were making it too easy for the Black Bat, and even as the shrapnel sprayed everywhere, spreading ice and fish where ever the bullets hit, none ever reached their intended target before she got to them. The two katanas remained sheathed on her back as Cassandra slipped like a shadow; one punch here, another roundhouse kick there, and the satisfying crunch and snap of bone afterwards. Even if she was not aiming to kill, there was still blood drawn - mostly that from the henchman spewing out their own blood from their mouths and snapped bones.

Too easy. Too predictable. Too quick. All by herself, Cassandra figured that tonight would be just like any other; incapacitate the operation, take the clue, and move on. But what she didn't expect was another person to join her in the fray, and not just anyone, the other Batman as she considered him - Nightwing. Even as her eyes narrowed in wariness at the other vigilante, the Black Bat hardly missed a step as she spun to completely slam a man into a wall, leaving a bloody print as he slid down into a crumpled heap with the others.

Before long, especially with Nightwing here, the numerous henchmen counting into at least thirty were all at least incapacitated with the less fortunate ones groaning quietly in pain. For the moment though, the Black Bat ignored the other male as she deftly picked her way through the masses to reach the foreman and slip out whatever she could pick from his clothes - huge wads of cash, a nice latest generation phone, a shiny new pistol, and various miscellaneous objects. Cassandra figured she might as well take them all back with her and sort whatever valuable information she could find from the mess.

"If you came looking for a monster, you're on the wrong trail. Go away," was all Cassandra stated abruptly with her back turned to him while she continued to sift and gather whatever she could. Best case scenario, she might as well leave soon and they could save the theatrics for another night.
 
He was swift in his own right, and while this newbie was as brutal as they came Dick was hardly gentle, throwing grown men to the floor as if they were mere sacks of straw. And those kali sticks weren't built for giving good night kisses, they'd leave quite the bruise, a bloodied nose or two. But, in the end, the conflict had ended, and in the end he found himself among a mound of unconscious men. With refined motions and skill and disarmed each individual rifle and pistol he came upon, leaving them useless for the time being. Last thing the GCPD needed was some wise guy trying to take a shot at them when they got near.

On that point Dick raised a flap on his left hip and took up a small hand held computer, pressing a button to dispatch some GCPD patrols to his location. That had become standard procedure for years, and even if his boss was out cold he wasn't about to change his ways.

"I'm not looking for a monster, I'm looking for help." Last thing he needed was another enemy on his hands, and that was how things would turn out if this stranger kept on her current path. Eventually she'd cross a line, and if that happened then she certainly wouldn't be entering the cave any time soon.

Nightwing approached her slowly and settled a hand on her shoulder, poised to move if she reacted negatively. "You know how bad things are here. I'm not happy about it, but I need every hand I can get to keep Gotham somewhat stable. And to that end, you and I need to be on the same page. And I think you'll find my resources don't entail any form of scavenging." Though, stealing from criminals didn't eem to raise his ire.

This girl was dangerous. Beyond dangerous. He'd have to be careful.
 
While Cassandra had been more than prepared for him to chat and babble away like most, what she hadn't been expecting was for him to touch her. Most people wouldn't even have the thought cross their minds before she efficiently disposed of them, but considering that she did have her back turned towards Nightwing, her usual body reading was nullified for the moment as the Black Bat stiffened, freezing right in her movements. It didn't really matter what he was saying, or at least, not as much as the fact that he was touching her. Though to be honest, it wasn't wholly terrible as she remained deathly silent for a moment, letting the tension hang between them with her eyes narrowing at nothing in front of her. The weight of his hand was warm in Gotham's normal cold nights, and while the first thought that crossed her mind was to whip around and throw him over her shoulder using his own momentum, she didn't.

Instead, Cassandra merely jerked her shoulder, brusquely shrugging his hand off of her. "I don't like it either. But I need your help. You need mine," she quickly stated, suddenly standing up and turning around in one smooth motion to stare up and down with narrowed eyes at the other masked vigilante, scrutinizing him with an unreadable intensity. What Nightwing made sense, there was no denying that. She knew that the Batman and all of his entourages had resources and toys that she could barely scrap up, like this suit that Cassandra had to cobble together and sew herself - a pain in the ass. On the other hand, she had never worked with anyone... And deep inside, she had doubts if she even could. But at least, she could try, right?

"This city has a way of making life hard on girls who think they can take it on by themselves," she stated wryly, almost under her breath as Cassandra secured the last of her loot and continued to gaze at Nightwing, never letting her eyes move away from him for a second. The Black Bat was, after all, reading him even before he said anything, and she did have to admit deep down that he was quite easy on the eyes too. Plainly, she asked, not even wavering an inch, "What do you want from me?"
 
The tension was worrying, but he had hoped that she would be willing to chat. Going by what little a psyche profile they had, there lingered a strong chance of this meeting going violent, as had been the case with other 'Bat-impersonators' like the Wrath. However when she stood Dick allowed himself to relax slightly and kept an eye on her, feeling a chill creep up his spine through the padded and reinforced layers of his bodysuit.

So... she was willing to at least hear him out. Good. Tim had wanted to be the one to talk to her with his 'award winning charm' but ultimately Dick knew that would only end one way. "Well... I figure we should find somewhere more isolated to chat. We're likely to get into confidential territory, and I don't want any of these people overhearing. And since there'll be officers here soon, they'll likely end up listening in too. Follow me." he assumed she had a grapple of her own, and thus took off to the nearest roof top- a boarded up cannery directly opposite the docked boat.

After landing neatly he spent some time waiting on Cass, time in which he tried to articulate his thoughts. "I suppose the big thing is... need to know who you are first. Women with your skills aren't exactly growing on trees. At first I thought you were ex-special forces. Mossad... Japan or Chinese when I got a glimpse of your ethnicity. But... well, even then, operatives from out there can't move as impossibly fast as you can." he raised his voice a bit, just to broad cast it from the roof in the event that she was going to take her time.

Of course, for all he knew she was gonna run for it as soon as his back was turned.
 
There was a good amount of reluctance in Cassandra's mind as she continued to watch with a predatory gaze at Nightwing stating that they needed somewhere more private to speak. As a rule of thumb in all of her years of operating independently, she never truly trusted anyone, and especially not when they were leading her somewhere. But perhaps, it was time to change, and he was already moving away from the boat, so the Black Bat was following close behind with her own set of fools - as rudimentary and limited as they were compared to the arsenal the Batfamily had.

There on the roof, she naturally allowed for herself to stand half-hidden within the shadows as a remnant of the childhood training that still lingered with her today. It wasn't a matter of that Cassandra didn't trust Nightwing, but it was that she would rather be the watcher than be watched for the moment. Though she continued to keep her eyes narrowed at the questions now lobbied at her, a striking contrast to what she would normally go through - no one ever asked her anything about herself. And for the most part, the Black Bat would rather keep it that way... But this was the Batman and his family, and perhaps, there was a part of herself that wanted to at least have someone to trust.

"My name is Cassandra Cain. My father is David Cain. I was trained to be an ultimate weapon, and I did not learn how to speak until... Recently." Her expression betrayed no emotion as she spoke, slightly halting as evident from the late vocal education that she had just stated, but clear and vehement in her statements. "I learned how to read other people's movements and body language instead. Then, to predict their next move." The Black Bat might as well just be commenting on the weather, but she could feel that guilt, the shame she had been carrying for so many years starting to rise as Cassandra allowed her eyes to flicker away over to the city lights, staring unseeingly into the distance. "I killed a man when I was eight. My father ordered me. That was when I realized that murder was wrong, and my father was wrong. When I killed Faizul... Terror and then... Nothing."

A slight shudder of disgust ran through Cassandra then as she slowly turned back to gaze intensely at Nightwing, trying to gauge his reaction to what she had just stated. It was her one and only murder, but the heaviest of all crimes to weigh on her shoulders for the rest of her life. But she continued to speak calmly, keeping her voice strong, "I ran away. Then, when I heard there were his connections here... I came to Gotham. To atone. Seek justice." Her eyes flickered up and down the male once again, then she gave a sharp jerk of her head.

"What about you? Nightwing? Batman's partner? Replacement? Team?"
 
Dick listened closely, and it seemed some of his worst fears had been quickly confirmed. The other scenario that had been on his mind, was something he had not voiced, was the worry that she was the kid of an assassin. Deathstroke had been his first guess, explaining the superhuman prowess... But David Cain of all people... and given her Asian heritage, Dick already had a creeping and sickening worry of who her mother was.

He stayed silent and did not voice his worries. So this girl was an ex-killer. Had been on the run for years, and was seeking to make up for her own misdeeds. In truth he was intrigued, seemed she wasn't too bad as far as people went. Though it did also explain how prickly she was, and her general strangeness.

"Hm... Replacement seems the best word to describe right now," he admitted. "You know the old man's been taken out of commission. We don't know if he'll ever recover, so I'm... doing the job he expected me to do when he first recruited me as a kid. He took me in after the murder of my parents, trained me up and made me... better. I owe him a lot because, well, there's no telling how I would have turned out after what happened," he admitted. Sometimes he would wonder about that, but never for too long. It was always a worrying scenario to him.

"Alright... I'll get to the point. You're skilled, impressively so, and I need someone like that on hand." He took a few steps closer and extended a hand out to her, and in his mind he had a plan in mind to test out how good her precognition was. "So... if you're willing, I'd like to give you a shot. I figure you'd be happy to try out some Bat-themed equipment."
 
Even Cassandra, relative newcomer to Gotham, at least knew a bit about the Batman and his sidekicks - mostly every civilized person in North America and some other countries did too. But what she didn't know what the extensive background that laid behind the mask... And the seeming similarities that were glaring at her between Nightwing and herself, the Black Bat. Tragedy - it ran deep within the city, and here she was, being already somewhat ironically held up to also be unofficially part of the Bat family too. "Good man," was all she murmured under her breath then at the male's words, crossing her arms across her chest in thought of the vigilantes.

This was it. If she wanted to back out, it was now.

Cassandra couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the hand being held out to her, instincts already tensing her muscles up at the easy way Nightwing extended himself like that. It's a trap. Obviously so, but she continued to take some precautions, staring him down levelly eye to eye with an intense and unwavering gaze. "I don't need the Bat equipment," was all she curtly retorted, not making a movement towards him at all for the moment.

However, she did relent a few seconds later, letting the other vigilante react before Cassandra briskly lowered her arms and reached out a hand to just barely hover over Nightwing's extended one, fully on edge now, even if it was more of a subtle curiosity about the male himself. Jerking her head towards him, it was a strange inviting acceptance of sorts from her, but nevertheless, an acceptance from the Black Bat all the while. "But I would like to test your skills too."
 
Eyeing her closely, Dick kept himself open in case Black Bat turned out to be much less accommodating than he would have hoped for. In this day and age, it was a whole lot harder to guess the motives of some groups. Still, while he wasn't as refined at it as Cass was, Dick was no stranger to being able to read body language, and she didn't seem to be approaching him with any violent intent. She seemed decently rational.

"A test?" he repeated. "I dunno, I'd say my skills should go without saying." After all, he wasn't exactly small time. The first ever Robin, a young man who had handled many of the Bat's rogues with impressive proficiency. In addition to that he had led the Titans for several years, only leaving the team due to the tension of recent events. Still, he decided he could probably have a little fun with this one...

After all, what would be the harm?

He pulled her in firmly, showing that he held just a few inches in height over the ex assassin, and smiled knowingly at her, eyes narrowed slightly in a clear sense of pride. She was quite close to him now, and even with the plates of his armour in place there was a faint sense of warmth radiating outward from him. "Still, I'm all ears. What do you need to see before you join up?" he inquired.
 
Cassandra had to remind herself that she was letting him pull her in like this, pressed up against the male's surprisingly and comfortingly warm body. It was... A new sensation to simply be this close to someone after so long. After all, a criminal like her was hardly welcome anywhere, and neither did the Black Bat make herself available for any kind of comfort. But if she was to become partners with Nightwing... She supposed this wasn't too bad.

Her own eyes were turned up to match his gaze, a sort of subdued curiosity and interest in them as Cassandra allowed her other hand to lightly brush against the blue Nightwing emblem on his plated chest. It was clear that she was somewhat comfortable, evident by how her gaze slipped down to roam on his impressive physique - even protected by the armor as is. "The man under the suit," she answered plainly, rapping a knuckle against the middle of his chest as a wry smile curled onto her masked mouth, making her eyes slightly narrow with mild amusement, "What you have besides what Batman gave you."

However, she was somewhat fair, and Cassandra knew that sooner or later, Nightwing might ask the same of her. So she repeated his question back to him, tilting her head slightly to stare back up at him unwaveringly. "And what do you need me to show you?"
 
He was intrigued by this, having her so close... he'd broken up with Koriand'r not too long ago on amicable terms. After all, the responsibilities of a space empress were such that he couldn't get wrapped up in her life without either of them facing complications and risks. Still, he was a grown man with a fine appetite for sex, and having such a clearly fine and defined badass pressed into him like this was... nice.

"In what way?" Dick asked, smiling wryly. She was an odd one, having a strange air about her. But he supposed that was only natural if you were trained to be a killing machine from the day you could walk. Had she ever had a friendly conversation before? They must have been rare, and Dick did feel a little bad if that was the case. She seemed nice, and genuinely was wanting to be a good person. But, much like he and Jason did, she needed a good influence to direct her.

A strong hand settled on the small of her back, brushing over the material of her costume. Finely done, and defensive, even if it was handmade. Impressive. "Well, I suppose you and I could do with getting better acquainted, but I'm not shedding the suit out here. It's damn cold tonight," Dick remarked.

"Tell you what though. I've got a place not too far from here. I figure we can chat a little more freely there... if you're willing to follow, and return the favour." She wouldn't see the cave, not yet at least, but the Batfamily had more than one stronghold in this city.
 
Cassandra was slightly taken aback with the amount of just... Skirting around they were doing at the moment. Though, to be honest, this might as well be one of her longest on-going conversations; most of the time, they just consisted of her saying a few harsh words and physically incapacitating whoever she was talking to if they didn't take the wise hint to leave already. So when he asked back his question, all she could do was blink and then narrow her eyes, answering as plainly as possible without even a bat of an eye or an inkling of embarrassment, "Everything. Who you are. I want to know you too."

While Nightwing wasn't a true enigma in any sense, he was far more difficult than the average man or woman to read his body language, especially with the mask on his face and the plated costume. It must have come with the training he received, and this hazy picture she had of him currently was certainly attracting Cassandra to want to know him more, the assassin training kicking in to gather as much information as possible from any viable source. Though she couldn't help but admit that the hand against her back was comforting, even more warmer against her skin, and the Black Bat did have to also agree that it was cold tonight as usual. In return, she placed her hand on the middle of the Nightwing emblem on his chest, tilting her head to the side in curiosity of exactly what his thoughts were at the moment - slightly unnerving to be unable to completely read... But that was just part of his charm now, wasn't it?

"Fine," was all Cassandra replied with, curt and simple in agreement as she nodded, standing still until Nightwing let her go before she dropped her arms down. "But what is your name? I don't know anything about you." She wanted to know at least something about Nightwing, and considering that the Black Bat had given her name so freely, it was a first step.
 
"You can call me Dick Grayson. The last of the legendary Flying Graysons," he said, keeping his tone low enough so that only she could hear. "Of course, I'd appreciate it if you keep that to yourself. And in return, I'll make sure nobody ever knows the real name of the Black Bat." Did she even have anyone to protect? Her dad was a horrible person after all. Still... maybe she was working to protct herself, cover her tracks, more so than anything else. Understandable.

His route was a quick one, jumping from roof to roof and progressively getting higher each time until they were entering a section of city blocks owned by one of Wayne's shell corporations. Some were being renovated into comfy, low rent housing. One section however, an old 'Jolly Jack Candy Factory' had been untouched... on the surface. Dick moved through an old gap in the roof and led th way to a section of floor that seemed a little less dusty than the others.

And then, with proximity established, a blue beam of light shot out of the ground and ran over his emblem. An electromagnetic lock drove itself open, the floor opening to reveal an illuminated staircase heading down underground.

Dick took a few steps into the concealed corridor and then steadily removed his mask to show his handsome visage. "Well Cass, let's chat. It's at least warm down here."
 
Dick Greyson. "Dick Greyson," Cassandra murmured quietly to herself, letting the name sink into her mind before nodding curtly to his words afterwards. She understood his cautions; after all, she too had been living as a hidden fugitive for most of her life, and secrecy was her best defense against the cruel world out there. All of them probably knew that, and she was expectant that whatever trust she had for Dick would be then reciprocated.

As they darted across the rooftops, Cassandra kept quiet and close to the other vigilante, living up fully to her name of the Black Bat to be a nearly undetectable shadow after him. It was not until they came to where she could only assume was one of countless Batfamily bases, and as she watched Dick open it up for the both of them, she also couldn't help but feel impressed by the level of tech that was hidden here. So this was what she was getting into? Interesting, but she would rather mostly keep to her own skills.

However, she was more than distracted instead when Nightwing unmasked himself, making Cassandra then turn her full scrutiny at him with a new light - not in hostile or wariness, but complete curiosity and even with some apparent interest. "Nice place," she plainly stated, then as a returned courtesy, pulled down the bestial-looking mask to reveal the entirety of her own face. Without the mask, the Black Bat could have been mistaken for any person on the street with her round feminine cheeks, large almond eyes, and clear porcelain skin.

Something that was passable as a smile curled onto her face as she followed up to stand by the other male, tilting her head curiously up to him. "So, take this off?" she tapped onto the Nightwing symbol on his chest, an idea coming to mind as her eyes narrowed in interest, "We could spar. Test each other."
 
He had to admit, she looked good. He would have expected scars, or bruising, even some lines from stress... yet Cass had none of those things. It was impressive and intriguing, but then again going by what he had seen earlier tonight... perhaps she had simply never gotten hit like that in her life? Hard to imagine, but not impossible. Her senses and speed, if they were partially natural... well it made her all the more imposing.

He heard her request, glanced to the hand on his chest while the accessway closed overhead. "Heh. So eager to see me shirtless? Well, I've never been one to disappoint women." Feeling confident he finished leading the way downstairs, revealing a large bunker with an advanced computer linked to the nearby wall, several glass cases with copies of different costumes (some fitted to express situations). A bathroom was at the far end, fitted with a shower, and another doorway led to a small kitchen for modest food preparations.

At times a person could be down here for a while, nursing a wound or doing rapid research... helped to be equipped.

Once inside Dick tapped a switch on his wrist the plates on the spine of his suit opening outward until he could remove his top, leaving him in his dark trousers and showing off his strong upper body. Sculpted for combat, and marked with a few old scars. "Well... I think I could go for it, if you are."
 
Cassandra was left blinking after Dick had already moved away, letting his words sink into her mind for a moment. Did she want to see him shirtless? Obviously, the simplest answer was yes, but there was also a desire to know who might as well be her fighting partner and to judge him under her own eye for herself. "That's not the point-" she hissed quietly under her breath, narrowing her eyes slightly. But they were continuing to move deeper into the base, and she was quickly distracted by the sight of the room around them.

Part of it reminded her of the facility her father used to train her within; all dark and sterile, glinting metal all around her. However, she pushed that similarity to the back of her mind as Cassandra took the liberty to prowl around the area, curiously peering at everything she could - especially the suits and the rack of weapons on the side. Most of it seemed frivolous to her, but some of the more simpler weapons attracted her attention; long seemingly metal bound staffs that she grasped in her hand.

Turning back to Dick, she did catch the sight of him now shirtless, and Cassandra couldn't help but let her eyes rake up and down his impressive physique, fully admiring his body. Obviously, he would have to keep his body in top condition, and the slight upwards curl of her mouth signaled her approval. "Here," was all she said to warn him before Cassandra lightly tossed one of the staffs over to him, fully expecting that he could easily catch it.

At least for Cassandra, there was no need for her to remove her bodysuit just yet as it tightly clung to her lithe body, but she did remove her swords, placing them carefully on the ground near the other weapons. Then, she took up a ready forward stance, spinning another identical staff in her hand to test it out. Keeping her eyes level at him, she jerked her head towards Dick, allowing for her muscles to tense in anticipation. "Disarm me."
 
Dick caught her staff without much effort, watching as Cass raised another one up into her hand. He gripped his own and quickly spun it around to test the weight. "Tim's more of a staff guy than me... but if this is what it takes," he remarked, taking the time to briefly tap the blunted just in front of him. Disarming... well that was something he could do, taking the time to eye each of her motions and seeing how defensive her motions were.

Breaking her guard would be hard, no doubt. She was fast, and far stronger than a gal of her build would usually be. Still, she had to have her limits somewhere. A feint, a bit of deception... but for now Dick knew it would be best to test the water and see what she was capable of in terms of speed and reflexes.

After some silent moments calculating his options he lunged forth, catapulting himself across the ground like a speeding bullet. Sharp eyes roamed up and down Cass' body with each and every step. A simple motion to start with, Dick moved to ram the peak into her gut, and if that hit he was set to strike at the wrist holding her staff. Something told him he wouldn't be so lucky as to get it on his first try.
 
From the moment she could remember, Cassandra had always been trained with every type of weapon imaginable; an assassin must always be well-rounded and prepared for any kind of situations, and the best weapon that she had was her own body. Even the katanas she had were as a last method of attack, only to be drawn in the most dangerous of situations. Her greatest advantage was not in the fact that she knew how to strike people, but when and where - like now as Dick rushed in to close the distance between them.

It was easy for Cassandra to simply side-step the jab of the staff at her, swiftly twisting her body to a side and gracefully moving herself to the periphery of his vision. For now, she had no need to attack him back, or at least, not yet. She was weighing his strengths and weaknesses against her own... His superior strength against her superior speed, and as for endurance, that was a factor that was yet unknown as to her for now. But if she could use the most efficient method of dodging, Cassandra might be so fortunate as to see Dick slip up before she did - then, she would strike at him in one decisive blow to win.

Circling around him almost predatory, still holding the staff at ready, Cassandra kept her gaze completely still on Dick. After all, her abilities required complete attention by sight onto her target to "read" their body language, and she could not afford any sort of distractions whatsoever. Take away her sight and attention, and there might just be an opening to stop her...
 
She was swift to say the least, even more than Dick had predicted. It was one thing to watch her in action, and get a second hand sample of her abilities... but facing up against her firsthand was a different thing altogether. So, moving quickly, he spun to a skidding halt on his heels and watched Cass closely. "Hm... not bad, I have to admit. Even more impressive than I would have previously envisioned," he said.

Dick watched her closely and once more took up a position of carefully circling her, step by step measured perfectly. He was fast, but she was faster, and if he were to try and do a direct assault then she would be ready to counter him. Fortunately, Dick Grayson was no stranger to being unpredictable. It was what really let him stick out from his boss during his early days as a kid sidekick. And no doubt something something Cassie wasn't wholly familiar with.

He lunged forth, however he shot his staff up sharply while still looking at her. The blunt edge struck one of the lights overhead and shattered the bulb in a vibrant and almost blinding flash that had sparks racing outward. A move for distraction, and in that brief second of opening the edge raced out to strike Cass' wrist and knock her staff out of her hand.
 
She had miscalculated just the mere second. Relying on her past knowledge of how most people fought, it was like they projected their every move just nanoseconds before they actually moved, giving Cassandra the upper hand on exactly what to do to either counter or dodge the action. But with Dick, it almost felt like she was back in her childhood, fighting against her father for the first few times; both men were worthy and skilled opponents, and even if she hated to lose, the blow would at least be a little softer fighting against someone of her own caliber.

The distraction had done the work, just enough for Cassandra's eyes to flicker up and take her relentless gaze off of Dick. However, it wasn't long enough, or at least, not enough to fully knock the staff completely away from her. She, after all, had both hands on the staff, and even has her left hand was struck, she quickly used the momentum to transfer the weapon over to her right hand in a feint that had her looking as if she was reeling back... But not quite. With the staff moving in a large arc to use Dick's own tactic against him, one of her legs also swept out in one smooth motion to trip him and ground herself better to the ground.

Then, she went in for the (figurative) kill; Cassandra wasted no time before she closed in as close as possible to the male, utilizing her body to twist upwards into a jump and lock her legs around his waist, ensuring that both of their weight together would push him onto his back. The staff was then held horizontally against his neck, and evident from the victorious grin on her face, this all had been great (if surprising) fun for the ex-assassin. "I win," she declared plainly, staring down at him intently with her entire body heaving slightly from the exertion - a good one, a workout that she wouldn't mind repeating again with Dick any time soon.
 
Dick smirked a bit, feeling his back on the hard ground. "Heh. Maybe. But I think you'd find I'm not much of a softie in an actual fight," he teased. She was swift, and hadn't fallen for such an easy ploy... he'd have to get her to try her luck against Tim if she thought he was tricky. All the same he wasn't all that bothered. He'd hardly been interested in doing this in the first place and had simply played along for the hell of it.

He gave her waist a pinch through her armour and gave a teasing shake. "Alright alright, get offa me already. Are you gonna join up with us?" Dick asked. He was in a bit of a stuck position, and so ultimately talking was about the only thing he cold do with her weight pressing into him.

The only non painful thing.
 
Admittedly, it was quite nice in a certainly new manner to be so close with someone. Dick was as warm here as he was outside in the cold Gotham night, and as he had obviously proved his worth through the sparring, Cassandra could say that she now felt comfortable with him more than she did with about 99% of the people out there. The grin on her face was evident of it as she briskly brushed some of the strands away from her face, but continued to gaze intently down at him. "It's my best option," she replied back with a slight shrug, almost playfully tightening her legs before letting go, easily pulling herself up and holding out the staff for him to pull himself up as well. "You have the information I want. I have the skills you need. I would like to know Batman too."

It was strange admitting to herself that she was... A part of something now, and the Batfamily at that. Of course, she had admired Batman for most of her life, evident by the moniker of the Black Bat that Cassandra had picked up, but to be actually part of the family and to already be this casual with someone else... It was strange. Strange, but not particularly unwelcome actually.

Crossing her arms, she continued to stand close to the other male, once again unable to help but let her gaze rake up and down his muscular form before reluctantly fixing her eyes on him once again, raising an eyebrow questioningly. The attraction was undeniable, even if Cassandra wasn't quite perceiving it as sexual interest just yet... In her mind, it was a mutual respect, squashing down that instinctive desire after having met a worthy partner. "So what now? Anything else you want from me?"
 
Dick frowned at the mention of Batman, and upon hearing the name he swatted the end of the staff away from him and moved to stand up of his own volition. "He's not available," Dick stated flatly, eyes narrowed. The levity had left him in that instant, and the thoughts of his employer brought the reality of his situation right back to the front of his mind, souring his thoughts. "What happened to him hasn't exactly been obscure news."

No. Bane had seen to it that it was a very real matter, something seen by everyone in the city. And if he had been there, Dick only wished he could have done something. After all, what good was a partner if he couldn't be there to have his back? The fact that it had happened at all irked him deeply.

Sighing, he settled his hands on his hips. "It's been a long day. I'm gonna go shower," Dick said, gesturing to the doorway to the bathroom. "You can feel free to check through the equipment here. The 3D printer over there could fabricate some new armour for you," he said. With that, Dick made for the bathroom with his hands still stationed at his hips. At the very least he could wash himself off.
 
"I know," Cassandra sharply replied back, her eyes also narrowing back at the other male. "But he will be back. He's Batman." Perhaps it was her own false sense of confidence, but after all, Batman was the closest thing that she had to an idol, and to think that he was going to be gone forever... Impossible. That couldn't happen. And no matter what Dick thought, she had trust that Gotham's Dark Knight would return... Eventually. The crime that was in this city was multiplying without him, and she had noticed that even with the other vigilantes like Nightwing and herself maintaining their own quota, it just wasn't the same as it was with the Bat himself.

However, at Dick's words, all that got externally out of Cassandra was a shrug. There was a part of her that did want to join the male in there with him, imagining just how much more of his impressive physique she could admire and relish in... But years of wariness and on-edge paranoia held her back from doing or saying anything, at least for the moment. She might trust him enough to be casually comfortable, but her training also hindered her; assassins should never be intimately involved for own self-preservation. Even now, it lingered with her, and she was left more or less awkwardly staring after him with words stuck in her throat. "Fine," was really all she managed to get out under her breath without thinking it made it a fool of herself, and letting the mild confused struggle play across her expression, she orientated herself towards the equipment around the room.

While the weapons held no special interest for Cassandra, the fact that she could make her own armor almost instantly certainly did. Ideas came to her in those few short minutes, and before long, the equipment was purring quietly, fabricating a modified template from one of Batman's lighter suit designs for herself. She honestly couldn't help the grin that was starting to curl her lips upwards in glee, efficiently unzipping her current suit to be tied around her waist in preparation to try on the new armor, leaving her simply clad in a sports bra on her lithe upper body, lean muscles defined under her unmarked and flawless skin.
 
He had spent some time under the hot spray of water, and in that time he was left pondering his life. In addition to the sheer difficulties presented by his job, he had other worries such as the city steadily going to hell. He and Tim could only do so much, and didn't strike as much fear as their mentor did. Indeed, criminals were getting bolder if anything, and it was making their workload just a little bit heavier than usual. Which was the mildest way of putting it.

But in addition he had to ponder his relationship status too. He had a few women in his life he knew, those he had been close to, but as of late he'd had to keep them at an arms length. Cass wasn't too far from his age, he reckoned, was sklled and certainly attractive. On the other hand she was weird, and who knew what the hell she had to think about sex. Most likely she didn't have a whole lot of experience, probably had never even thought on it... well, that or she was some kind of praying mantis when it came to sex.

Dick made his way out of the shower, his upper body partially dried while a towel wrapped neat around his waist. He whistled as he saw Cass' back from behind, feeling just a bit on the playful side. "Looking good," he remarked, a playful note in his voice.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom