shatterverse | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Not all cut from the same cloth?"

Leah pours her own wine while she waits. The lower than normal table - one she asked for knowing Babs' wheelchair, but she wouldn't admit it - makes this trickier than it would be, but it goes off without incident.

"Definitely not. I could have gotten stuck with Guy Gardner." She mock-shudders, even including a soft, theatrical "brrr" so that Leah would be sure to catch it.

Leah grins again.

"What's brings on that reaction?"

"If you'd ever met the man, you'd understand. But you should consider yourself lucky that you've never had the... pleasure." She sounded pretty dubious there.

"Nuh-uh," Leah protests. "Don't you do that. I wanna story."

"What's there to tell?" Babs teases just a bit. "Just your typical arrogant, macho, ineffectively womanizing, pigheaded guy who somehow gets incredible power... And continues being arrogant, macho, ineffectively womanizing, and pigheaded."

"Oh I know him!" Leah says.

Well, someone like him, anyway. I never could figure out the womanising thing. What do people see in them?"

"Well, luckily for my sanity, no one takes Guy seriously." Well, almost no one.

"So he was more of a wannabe womaniser?"

"Yeah. Smarmy, and convinced that he's irresistible..." Babs shakes her head.

"Yeah," Leah says. "I definitely know him.

"Makes you wonder what kind of screening process is in place, doesn't it?"

"Guy Gardner is almost single-handedly responsible for convincing me that there isn't one."

"Guess you don't have to be a nice guy to be a good guy," Leah says.

"Talking of which - which we weren't - how's Dick?"

The long pause that question evokes is the sort that happens when there's blushing going on. "Fine," Babs says quietly, smiling down at her food.

Leah snickers into her wine.

"That's what I like you hear. He keeping you in stress relieving neck rubs?"

"Maybe," Babs mumbles. Quick! Subject change time!

"What about you? Anyone giving you stress relieving neck rus?"

"Hey," Leah says. "I have great stress management skills."

It's called ignoring everything until it's right in her face and breaking down afterwards.

"Which is clearly good, 'cause I get out never. You're half of everyone I know, right here."

"And who's the other half?" Babs sing-songs in amusement.

"Sam," Leah says, surprised Babs didn't know.

For someone that smart, it's amazing she doesn't make the connection.

"Then you definitely need to get out more," Babs teases.

"Are you offering to rub my neck?"

There's something decidedly safe about flirting with a straight girl.

Babs chuckles softly. "Sure. I'll rub yours if you'll rub mine."

"The sad thing," Leah laments, "is how that's the best offer I've had in years, not just since coming here."

"Too busy, or was everyone too dumb to see what they were missing?"

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other."

Leah wipes a patch of dampness from her chin.

"It's not like I get out and meet people."