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Leah can be and is incredibly systematic when it's necessary for her to be. Necessity long ago ingrained a habit of being super tidy when her home, and the flat she's squatting in right now speaks for that. Take the living room, for instance: everything of no use to her has been moved and stored in the second bedroom, and the dining table has been set out carefully as her work station, every tool with its own place. Her finished radio sits separately on the coffee table, near a nice long sofa that Leah sleeps on as many days as not, when she isn't out exploring.

It is, by her time, about 5am local time when she sits down and turns her dial to the scalpel-marked frequencies for first the Doctor, then Oracle. She even tries a few random frequencies.

"Anyone out there?"

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"One a' the old school, huh?"

Helpfully, Leah now has Oracle placed in the same generation as Tin Man and the second Red Falcon, who are both now in their sixties.

"Back in the days you had to fight crime barefoot and with nothing but an old tin can and a piece of string?"

"Well, not quite that old school," Barbara laughs. "I've still got my girlish figure, after all."

"Yeah?" Leah responds promptly. "Where'd you keep it?"

"Oooooh, is that how it's going to be? You just wait, I'll get you for that one, Miss Smart-mouth."

"Sounding like my Dad is not helping you sound young and hip, y'know."

"Well, hip is something that most of my people will tell you I'm not. I think they're just jealous."

They're not.

"Sure they are."

Leah shakes her head, for all the good it does.

"Seriously, you have problems keeping fit these days? Having to re-assess exercise regimen?"

"Not really. I had to readjust right after my career change, but now I've got a system that works pretty well."

"All right for some," Leah complains. "My metabolism went all over the place for the first few months."

"Yeah?" Barbara asks, tone politely curious.

Leah's shrug is audible in her voice. "Not getting the usual activity on the job, figuring out howta re-adjust, not touching the psych issues. You really had no probs?"

"Six months of rehab don't exactly constitute 'no problems', I suppose," Barbara admits.

"Yeah, I wouldn't count that," Leah says. "Physical, right?"

"Yeah. And I have to admit that the sad lack of rehab specialists around here isn't helping me keep up like I should." She shrugs to herself, "How about you?"

Babs isn't going to talk about her mental issues considering that most of them are 'dealt with' only in that she's learned to hide them pretty well.

"Round here? Nah. It's all go for me. Exploring. Carrying things back to the flat. Exploring some more. I'm on my feet nearly all day."

She snorts briefly. "OK, yeah, I could do with some gym equipment here."

The corner of Barbara's lip twitches down at the phrase 'on my feet', but she shrugs it off. "Well I've got some gear here, so whenever we do manage to figure out where you are, you're welcome to it."

"Brilliant."

Leah always hated treadmills, but she has to admit that when you can't see where you're going, it helps to not be going anywhere.

"Where are you, anyway? You can tell me that without betraying secrets?"

"Oh, that's something I can do. Kansas, in the United States. There's some sort of buffer in place that prevents those portals from opening up in the area, so it's about the most stable area on the planet." She grins, "Can't say much for the scenery though."

"Humour me," Leah urges. "Where are you sitting?"

"At the moment? Back porch of a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere."

Leah can tell she's going to have to train Oracle in situation description. She's not fussed about it, though: looking forward to it in a way.

"And the scenery?"

Barbara opens her mouth to answer, but pauses. Then, "You're asking for something specific, aren't you?"

"Huh?"

Leah starts, surprised, and quickly denies it.

"No, not really. I just wanna visual. I like to be able to picture what you're seeing when I'm talking to you. And I'm guessing yuo wouldn't give me a physical description of yourself?"

"Not on this line," Barbara admits.

She leans back, eyes sweeping the terrain in front of her. Despite it all, Babs is still a tactician at heart, so her description is all about cover and maneuverability. But at least it's thorough for what it is, even if she doesn't talk about colors or shapes.

Leah's grinning near the end of that. That was good, she has to admit, although she likes colours. More than anything else, she misses colours.

"You forgot wind speed and direction."

She's mostly teasing, but that was a tactician's response, and Leah's an archer.