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In Metropolis, one can find almost everything. All kinds of peoples - fighters, tricksters, thieves, innocent people just looking for a good time.

And occasionally, you can find a healthy looking kitty with silky white fur sitting on the porch of a nearby storefront to a club, grooming himself (because the cat itself is a boy, you see) and occasionally running off to walk a fence or leap on a row of trashcans or chase a mouse.

Rachel may or may not be avoiding the nightlife of other twenty-somethings.

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"I guess that's a good sign of no, huh?"

Petting is offered, obligingly. Clean friendly cats demanding petting are pretty rare these days, so he's still looking around for an owner, but also, petting.

Bah, owner. Neither Rachel nor Fluffer McKitty need an owner! And neither of them have a collar either.

Fluffer, however, is immensely enjoying the attention. Rachel really doesn't have a problem with letting the cat mind take over for a pet, rubbing against Dick's hand or against his knee when his petting isn't quite up to snuff.

Not that her human mind isn't at work, too. They way he'd moved... and he's totally human. She can hear his heartbeat (normal) and sniffs for his scent (human), but he'd looked like he could challenge a housecat for natural grace, and that's just incredible.

And must be tested.

Getting control over Fluffer, Rachel lets Dick get a final pet over her back before turning to walk across the porch - and leap four feet straight up into the air to land on the post of a fence.

Then she blinks green cat eyes at Dick and wonders if her curiosity is worth possibly exposing herself.

(answer: yes)

"Want me to follow you, huh? Okay, sure. Not much else happening around here."

Besides, eerily-intelligent cats and things are a lot less weird than anything else. Dick vaults lightly to the next post on the same fence, poised and graceful.

"Lead on, Macduff."

Oh... wow.

The cat blinks at him for a few moments more before turning - and leaping to another post three feet away.

And another.

And another.

In the space of three seconds.

Humans have the advantage here -- it's really just a step for Dick. Not that he looks any less graceful stepping than leaping, but it's probably not as impressive.

Also, he is starting to have suspicions about this cat.

All right, yeah, that wasn't particularly great, was it? Rachel will have to think harder.

Her fat, fluffy tail twitches a few times, which only barely makes a cat deep in thought look somewhat natural.

But...

She leaps back, so that she's sitting on the fence post beside his, and looks right at him with bright green eyes, like she's waiting for something.

Dick crouches easily on the fence again, elbow on one knee, steady as if it's solid ground, and looks back at her.

"So I'm really getting the impression you're not just a normal cat, huh?"

It's extremely awkward and utterly alien and the cat doesn't much like it... but Rachel nods.

It's a really weird thing to see, a cat nodding.

Dick blinks, but that's all the reaction -- hey, he's seen weirder. "Okay, cool. So ... you need help, or are you out here for something else?"

And can he still pet the kitty? It's such a nice fluffy kitty. Wait, maybe not so good, if it's sentient.

Mmmmmmmm pettings.

...that was actually Fluffer enjoying being pet, not so much Rachel and her crush. (though she can't help but notice how cute he is... a lot)

She doesn't protest the pettings, but-- isn't really sure how to answer his question without using Thoughtspeak. She settles for slowly, awkwardly shaking her head.

It wasn't a yes or no question, but maybe that will help anyway.

Dick is totally not being amused, watching a cat try to make human gestures. Okay, well, he is, but he's mostly laughing on the inside only.

"Well, I probably won't get in your way, unless you do something dumb," he says cheerfully, "and considering I'm talking to a cat, I'll keep my definitions loose."

Frustration is the emotion of the day. How is she supposed to talk to him about gymnastics while she's a cat? And she doesn't want to morph in front of him-- and can't justify running off and suddenly appearing as a human who is ever-so-interested in whatever it is he's doing.

(actually, she probably could, but is a little too paranoid to expect other people to believe in coincidences)

Tail twitching irritably, the cat starts to groom himself. The hilarious part of morphing, sometimes, is when the animal and human mind get meshed together - ending up with the actions of an annoyed cat and a content one, simultaneously.

It's kind of hilarious, really. Dick isn't trying too hard to cnotrol his bemusement any more.

"Are you really a cat, or only sometimes a cat? Uh -- you don't have to nod. That looked awkward. Let's say two tailflips for yes. Really a cat?"

Um.

Well... it's not really telling him that much, right?

One tailflip.

"Figured," Dick says, sitting back in his crouch with a grin. "One sec, I'll be back --"

Something was moving up on the top of the nightclub that shouldn't be, and Dick disapproves of this. A leap off the fence towards the wall; a quick grab of a windowsill, twist and flip, to throw himself upwards again; and he's alighting on the roof and out of sight from the fence.

Yaye acrobatics!

...that was the coolest thing she's ever seen. Which pretty much settles it for Rachel, who waits until he's out of sight to leap off the fencepost.

By the time Dick gets back, there's a distinct lack of white kitty - and a distinct appearance of pretty blonde woman in clothing about as tight as his.

Dick returns by the simple expedient of jumping off the top of the building. It's only a couple stories, not too much of a drop (for a Flying Grayson - turned vigilante).

He straightens, giving the woman an easy smile. "...Catwoman?"

Hey, valid guess. Although why the hell Selina would be anything like this blonde -- who knows?

The wrinkle of Rachel's nose really can't be blamed. Not when that's his greeting and her first thought is: Great, more comic book geeks.

"Yeah, right. And you'd be Robin?"

"Not for years now, but I could still rock the short-shorts if you wanted." Dick is still amused by her reactions. "I'm guessing you were the cat, yeah?"

Skimpy and all, her outfit's still not really clubbing wear. Not that he's inspecting it too closely -- or at all, save for the first quick assessment. Dick is nothing if not a gentleman.

... a gentleman whose default interacting-with-strangers mode is 'charming and lightly flirty,' but still. A gentleman.

Clubbers don't usually go barefoot either-- though, for that matter, neither do cats.

But Rachel will worry about that later, after two things have been resolved: 1) getting the image of Dick in short-shorts out of her head (his pants really should not be that tight, it's terribly distracting), and 2) he agreed with her.

"...yeah," she admits after a moment, frowning slightly. "You're... serious? The whole comic book thing, that's for real here?"

"...comic books?"

It's strange, but even with the mask that hides his eyes and brows, she can just tell that one eyebrow is raised.

"Like -- the Wraith? Dudes in purple who live in the jungle? I'm pretty sure they're not actually real anywhere, ma'am."

Another Dick talent: managing to be completely genuinely warm-hearted and smiling even talking to the crazy lady.

Rachel's talent: getting irritated and annoyed with just about anybody, no matter how pretty they are.

"No, I mean Batman. Bruce Wayne, Gotham, all that crap."

"...crap?" Dick shakes his head at her. "Real as I am, ma'am. Gotham's on the east coast."

Beat.

"... so's Metropolis, in my world, so I might not actually be right about that."

Rachel frowns a little - helpless, not angry. Aliens, she's dealt with. Weird shit out of bad sci-fi, she's got that.

Illustrated comic book characters come to life and annoying her? Totally without experience.

(though it does explain why his gymnastics are so amazing. obviously, no one in the real world could manage that ~~or so she'll continue telling herself until she feels better~~)

"Stop calling me ma'am," she says after a moment with a deep sigh, giving him a look. "I'm si-- not old enough to be a ma'am."

Dick gives her that wide warm smile again. "I could try sir?"