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Rachel wouldn't say she's been babysitting for a number of different reasons. A few of them include Not Wanting to Get Punched, Not Finding Anything Funny About the Situation. First and foremost being that she doesn't consider what she's been doing babysitting in the first place.

She's hoping it could be considered 'helping,' but she's relying on Jo's responses to tell her if that's accurate or not.

And 'with Jo' is where she's been the last few days, wandering around Metropolis, dropping in on the woman's apartment - invited or otherwise - making passes over the city in eagle morph. Surveillance, of a sort. She won't look specifically for Dean or Jack because she refuses to go over Jo's head like that for information. But if she happens to see something while she's up there that explains what happened...

Well, that's not her fault.

Right now, she could be found in the sky. Or maybe it's late and she's heading back to that building she and Tobias have been staying in. Or maybe, just maybe, someone's going to catch her on her way to or from checking on Jo.

...not that she needs checking on. Of course.

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He also looks like a great big broody weirdo, but Rachel only thinks that until she recognizes him.

...and even then, the thought sticks with her long enough for her to smirk a little.

But he's up high and she's down on the ground. She doesn't want to climb up to him. All the same, she hesitates where she is, looking up at him.

Mostly because she's thinking about gravity and all the ways it still applies to her.

After a moment, the figure lifts an arm, clearly waving at her. He's smirking, if she can see it from there.

He's still a weirdo.

Ignore that Rachel's grinning a little as she lifts a hand to wave back.

A weirdo who is weirdo-ly leaping off the skyscraper, hundreds of yards in the air.

Turns out gravity does apply.

At least - until he's partway down, and then his descent inexplicably slows, until he hits the ground at a graceful pace and lands comfortably upright, just a few feet in front of Rachel.

The imprint of green lips fades on his cheek, just slightly, and he grins at her. "Cat-girl."

That was awesome.

But the last bit is more than a little confusing. No gymnastics training in the world will slow you down when you jump off a building.

Rachel smirks, one eyebrow lifted. She might be the only non-superhero in the world who won't question his outfit, even if its a little more colorful than her own. "Gymnast-boy," she greets right back, amused at the nickname.

...and with a slightly smaller smirk, gestures at her own cheek.

Dick tilts his head, confused, and then gets it and grins at her, one glove lifting to touch the green lip-print. "Managed to get on an air spirit's good side," he explains, cheerful. "It's incredibly fun. I'm still testing the limits."

Because throwing yourself off skyscrapers is a good way to test if you'll hit the ground or not.

What?

It is.

Rachel's smirk stays in place for a moment, but she grins at his comment. "How high were you?" she asks, glancing up at the building.

Pfft. He can't really fly. He doesn't know what fun is yet.

Dick glances back up at the skyscraper. "A thousand one, a thousand two? I didn't measure." He shrugs, grinning back at her. "How've you been?"

She's surprised he put it that close, all the same. She might be slightly impressed again.

A shrug is given as Rachel decides she really doesn't know him well enough to talk about the Father or Cathedral. "All right. You?"

Though if he's got lipstick on his cheek, she can imagine.

Dick nods, cheerful. It isn't actually lipstick - it isn't even there any more. Just the impression of green lips, faded as soon as the air's not holding him up. "It's no Gotham," he says, looking up at the glittering lights, the towering buildings, the lack of gargoyles, "but it's close."

Well, there's that. Rachel smiles politely and follows his gaze. It's just a city, is all, and while she's been to plenty of them before, she never had to spend so much time in filthy streets and alleyways.

"Heard your friend got her body back."

Because this is a totally normal transition.

"Yep." Dick grins, wider than before. "Not without drama, but then there's always that. She's doing well."

He keeps ducking back to the farm to check on her. He's kind of living there now, actually.

"Cool."

She's much less sulky about this since she got her own job.

...okay, maybe much is pushing it. Still, Rachel's able to manage a real smile, if a small one. "She's at the farm?"

"Yep. Got pretty badly bruised getting that thing outta her, so she needed someplace to heal - and train. Oracle and Canary are definitely her best bet for that."

Rachel nods because she is totally invested and interested in the subject of the farm.

No, really.

She is.

...it's just that the bit of paper that just blew by in the wind caught her attention, like litter tends to, so she had to watch it for a minute.

Dick smirks a little at her.

"There's a lot of stuff happening there now," he says brightly. "Like the, uh, farming. I could get into detail for you if you want to know."

"Mm," says Rachel, glancing at him with slightly lifted eyebrows before looking away again.

...and cluing in. He's getting smirked at now. "Sounds fascinating. Don't or I'll push you off the next roof."

He'd bounce on his way down anyway, no harm done.

Dick laughs. "Sure you will. Okay, so, how's the cat-thing going?"

"Catty," she replies, though it's obviously a tease. She doesn't feel the need to explain what she can do, or how many forms she can do it in, but the grin she's giving him is light-hearted. "I've found a few things to keep myself busy."

Nothing she's too pleased with, though. Its a job but it still isn't how she works.

Dick lifts an eyebrow, curious but polite. "Enjoying it?"

She makes a face, only partly teasing. "It's better than nothing.

"What about you?"

Dick shrugs, waving a hand with lazy grace around at the city. "Never short on something to do around here. The police aren't much good any more, so they can use all the help they can get."

"I didn't even know there were police," Rachel points out with a blink, looking distinctly unimpressed. "Yeah, I guess there'd be plenty."

Maybe she's been looking for Cathedrals when she could have just been glancing down alleys.

"There's a few left. They don't get paid any more," Dick explains, stretching thoughtfully. 'Only the lifers are left - the guys who don't know anything else but being a cop."

That gets Rachel thoughtful, too. Not amused or surprised, just... very thoughtful about the way he said that.

"Yeah. I guess that makes sense."