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Barbara Gordon can't really 'go for a walk', but even she sometimes needs fresh air. She really misses her car from back home. They haven't had time to modify any of the recovered vehicles here for use by a woman with no working legs, and that means she can't actually go too far from the farm. Still, she goes as far as she can. It's not far but it gives her at least the illusion of distance. Of solitude.

At least if she ignores the laptop tucked under her seat which will give her a signal if any7 of a dozen of her algorithmic alarms go off.

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It's kind of relaxing not having to do any of the planning for this trip. At the same time it's kind of stressful not being in control of the little outing. So it's a smiling, yet tense, Barbara Gordon who rolls into the place about the same time the popadums come out.

"It smells heavenly in here," she declares.

"Don't it just?"

Leah finds the dips as she's talking, and is generous with the chutney on her first piece.

She's hoping Babs won't mind the resultant mess.

"Now you know what I was sourcing last week on the subcontinent."

Babs used to live with Cassandra Cain. Messy eating doesn't bother her anymore. "Ingredients," she laughs. She gets a loaded piece of her own and takes a bite. "Can't say that I blame you," she decides after she swallows. "This is pretty amazing."

"If you're gonna trade in favours," Leah says, "make sure you equip the people to repay favours well."

She waits until she thinks they're relatively alone before... well, making the small talk more personal, if not actually bigger.

"How's business?"

"Not exactly great." Barbara takes another few bites before expanding on that. "I don't even have the resources to track all of the major disasters going on, much less stop them."

She stares down at the table. "I think we're about to lose Manila."

Leah nods, though she doesn't miss a beat with her eating.

"Ready to run evac?"

"Already setting it up," Babs nods. "But... I don't have the transport to get everyone out before the perimeter collapses."

"Need more transport?" Leah asks. "Isn't one of your world's heaviest hitters around now?"

"There's an idea..." Babs muses as she takes another bite. "But we're still looking at thousands of people to move."

"Alright," says Leah, "so you need more mass transportation. Does it need to be air? What's the land route like?"

"We might be able to punch a route out of the city, but then I don't know where I'd send anyone. The island's not in good shape."

"No, but it'll buy you time," Leah says. "What air support do you have - do you want a drink? Longer I stay here, the more I'm into wine."

Yes, this is just dinner conversation to her.

"Time's good. Fuel would be better." She takes another bite. "I suppose one glass couldn't hurt." Babs doesn't drink much, but... a little is okay.

"You'll have to call the waiter over," Leah points out. "I'm ready to order food, too."

But first, she'll take another shard of poppadum.

"I thought you guys had an alternate fuel source. Isn't that what's keeping the Aerie up?"

"Well, I've managed to secure a couple of fuel depots. Stuff the military had stashed. But that's not enough to keep a major air fleet running. The real problem is that I could probably scrape together enough for Manila, but then what would I do for the next emergency?"

Most people won't be able to pick out the tightness in her voice, or the way she carefully avoids mentioning the Aerie One. Most people aren't Leah.

"Trading a now for a future?" Leah says, just slightly closed.

She notices the avoidance of the Aerie, and drops the subject as not one relevant to the problem at hand,

"OK, punch through what land escape you can. Get people in crowd control. What magic and paras have you got on hand?"

"Not something I'm happy about doing," Babs shakes her head.

"I can get you a list. But, as always, fewer people with transport-related powers than I'd like."

"Not unless you need help," Leah says, meaning when it gets to beyond just dinner conversation - which may be tomorrow, for all she knows.

"But I'd run damage control over full control. Last I heard it was multiple threats? Take down Godzilla, isolate the zombie plague and deal with the little green guys next week."

Those are all just metaphors, but she's willing to have taken a lucky guss or two.

"I've been in damage control mode for months," Babs sighs. "It's all 'save most of the civilians but still lose hundreds' day after day after day." It's wearing on her. If it hadn't been for that forced vacation she probably would have had a breakdown by now.

She waves to catch the attention of the waiter.

"Breathe," Leah says. "And first thing tomorrow send me a mission report."

If there's a hole to fix another thousand or so people, Leah'll find it.

"Y'don't use me enough, Babs."

"I know," Barbara admits quietly. "I'm not used to working with another planner." She's not really used to working with many people at all. Oracle gives orders, she doesn't take council.

"See, that's your first mistake," Leah says. "I'm not a planner. I dela with what we have to do now.

"And what you have to do now involves a Chicken Tikka."

"I like this plan," Babs grins. "And... I suppose I should give you a buzz when I need someone to coordinate an evac or something, huh?"

She shrugs. "I didn't want to intrude, though."

"Intrude on my very important moping around the house," Leah clarifies.

"Bloody hell, Babs. You can imagine how much I get out the house."

That draws a snort. "About as much as me, I bet." She shakes her head. "I don't know... I just... don't want to intrude." And Leah was independent enough to make Barbara ever so slightly uncomfortable.