New Lives
Tim/Steph future drabble. I wrote this back in August but I guess I’ll share it. I’m trying to jump-start my writing.
Q:ALL the Robins; Karaoke!
Anonymous
OOC warning ahoy!
Tim covered his eyes, slumping against the bar counter. Stephanie suspected that was as far as he’d go without actually slamming his head against the wood. He had mumbled something earlier about how unsanitary it was.
“Is he really singing Sexy Back?” Tim asked, unable to look and wished his ears had a mute button.
“Yup,” Steph said. “And cue Dick rushing up to compete with him.”
“You mean stop him,” the grumpy ten-year-old next to her said. “Surely even Grayson is above these pitiful-” A wobbled note cut Damian off.
Stephanie laughed. “I don’t think Dick’s capable of resisting a chance to strip-tease.”
“Is that what he’s doing?” Damian asked, watching the two eldest Robins battle for control of the microphone. Dick had his jacket off of his shoulders and gathered at his elbows as he tried butt-bumping a very intoxicated Jason out of the way. “I thought he was being possessed by a murdered goat with that noise he’s making.”
Dick had the mic all to himself while Jason leaned over to snatch someone else’s beer. His leather coat had disappeared somewhere and Damian suspected the shirt was coming off soon.
“He can actually sing,” Tim grumbled, finally looking up out of the nest he made with his arms. “When he’s not, well, like that.”
“I suppose he sings you lullabies to keep the nightmares away.”
Stephanie snorted and pulled at Tim’s arm. “Come on you two, let’s go help them out.” It was then Damian noticed she had Jason’s coat on. Had she gone up there to catch it when he had stripped it off?
“Brown, what are you-“
Steph grabbed Damian’s hand and yanked both boys away from their secluded section of bar.
“Now,” she said. She raced up, grabbed the microphone from Dick and belted out the first syllables to “Bad Romance.”
It was that kind of night.
I don’t know what this even is. Blugh.
Q:This may not be a drabble prompt... it may be something a bit too big, or you may not be familiar with one of the characters, so if it's too big, that's cool.... Steph/X-23; Hope
“Trust me,” Batgirl said, “I’ve known more than a few kid assassins. I know it sucks. Leaving the past behind you, taking that second chance…facing yourself. But there’s always that possibility, you know? There’s always that hope.”
Hope. Laura turned the word over in her head as she picked up a stone from the river. It felt smooth without crack or edge and weighed only enough to be significant.
I do know Laura, I like her a lot, but I’ve never written her before. Hope (ba-dum-chit) this is okay. I am incapable of writing anything longer.
Q:How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
Anonymous
“If you do not remove that cavity-inducing trash out of my face I will find a more uncomfortable position for it.”
Steph rolled her eyes. “It’s just a tootsie pop. Open up, you need a childhood.”
She heard his voice and for a second wondered if he was still inside her, in her ear duct or something, trying to tell her something important. She tried to move but everything still ached. There was the mother of all period cramps in her abdomen and a serious case of heart burn. After a moment she made out other noises; the familiar sound of medical machines, outer space investigators gathering more data and the grump of a blue-haired genius somewhere on the other side of the room.
“Kitty?” she heard again and blinked opened her eyes.
“Hey Bobby,” she whispered before burping up smoke. She could feel the burn in her nostrils. “Oh that was so gross.”
“Needs some water?” Bobby asked, chipper-faced as always. His mouth didn’t smile but his eyes did. They always seemed to, turned up in the corners like he knew a practical joke the world didn’t. Oi, Kitty, when did you start noticing that?
Except she totally knew when. It was the day after the first day of school that she had noticed. Not that she hadn’t known Bobby most of her adolescent life, but, interlocking lips sometimes gave new perspectives to people. And she wasn’t an adolescent anymore. Which was obvious after the whole “lol pregnancy scare” that just transpired.
“No thanks,” she replied, pushing herself a little higher in bed.
His smile reached his mouth. “Want some ice?”
“No,” she whined, out of habit. It was easy to fall into. It was nice, knowing her place with Bobby, especially since she was struggling to figure out exactly where she stood with everything else. Headmistress, teacher, newly single (AGAIN) X-men, back in New York at the institute- well, A institute- without the comfort of actually feeling at home. But Bobby helped.
“Glad you’re awake,” he said, “Logan’s not in a very comfortable position to pick up running the school.”
“Oh yeah? I just had my uterus blown up. You’re going to have to wait a few days.”
“Hey, I saved you life,” Bobby said. “Any little kittens that make it in the future owe me their cute baby lives.”
“Please don’t mention children,” Kitty said. Bobby asked why and Kitty had to finally admit out loud the responsibility of it all. Saying it out loud made it feel even more real. “Why am I so afraid of growing up?” she whispered, feeling her eyes sting.
“Oh, I dunno, Kitty,” Bobby said and she couldn’t help herself. He was there, he was with her and he- he had been a really good kisser previously. Call it smoke in her brain or what, but she didn’t regret grabbing him and locking her lips onto his.
And by his response, he didn’t seem to mind much either.
Tangled Dreams
Illeana slept calmly in the large, hard bed. Stephanie found as many pillows as she could and piled them on for the girl but in the end the bed was still hard, like it had been sitting there for so long it’d become stale in the dusty grey air. The windows were small and barely let in any light, but the bright beams fell directly onto the bed. Stephanie blocked them out with her cape, wanting the girls to nap as much as they could. It’d been a long morning of running.
Blonde hair tangled on the sheets and around the young girl’s shoulders. It’s length nearly matched the girl’s and Stephanie had an urge to brush through the golden mess until it was smooth and peaceful again. When her daughter awoke, she’d braid the hair and tell her stories like she always wished her mom would do. Dress her up and play in a make-believe world where adventures were still fun and didn’t come with broken ribs.
Stephanie brushed some of Illeana’s bangs from her forehead, knowing no matter what she imagined, she could never be that mother for her. Regret mixed with guilt. Was being Batgirl worth letting her child’s seclusion, traveling the world to sleep on stale beds?
She swallowed, turning her phone over and over in her hands. The zen she found in Japan disappeared. She felt lonely and exhausted, now, not clear and motivated. And then she would look at her daughter on the bed and smile before it all returned again. Circular arguments clouded her head.
“Wish you were here” she typed out six times, deleting every letter before starting again. Tim had important things to worry about back in Gotham.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew the master had found her. He said nothing as he unfolded a chair and seated himself next to her. They would speak eventually, about all of this she was sure. But now was not the time for that. She only had so long with her daughter. She wasn’t going to spend even a moment of it sulking.
“Why does Illy get a mama, Uncle?”
Tiny hands pulled on Heiwa’s pants, and big green eyes stared at the wooden stick the master turned over in his hands.
“Because, Lena,” he said, picking her up and placing her on his lap, “everyone has a mama.”
“I don’t have a mama,” the girl stated.
“Yes you do. And she loves you so much.” Heiwa turned the whittled flute in his hand, holding it closer for Lena to touch. Her hands explored the curve of the shaft and tiny carvings in the side for a few minutes not saying anything.
“How come she doesn’t come see me then? Like Illy’s mama?”
Heiwa patted down the hair that tangled in his beard. “Because she wants to protect you, Helena. Your mother loves you so much, she withstands being away from you every single day.”
From above he could see Helena’s face frown and she looked up at him. “But if she loves me, why isn’t she here?”
Heiwa set the flute on the table next to him and turned her on his knee. “Do you love Illy and Uncle?”
Helena giggled. “Yes!”
“How much?”
Helena spread her arms wide, nearly hitting the old master in the face. “Dis much!” she cried and giggled more.
“Would you ever want to spend even day away from us?”
Her hair brushed her lips as she shock her head and Heiwa pushed it down from his beard once again. “I’d be sad without you!”
“And I’d be sad without you,” the old master said. “So sad, I don’t know if I could stand it. But your mother, she loved you as much as you love me, or Illy or maybe more, but she has to be without you every day.”
“But why!” she cried and her voice trembled in an oncoming whine.
“To protect you. She’s a very good person, Helena, but there are very bad people in the world. Remember the stories I told you? And those bad people would use you to hurt her, because she cares about you so much.”
Water laced her eyes. “So now she can’t come see me anymore?”
“When it’s safe enough, you’ll see her.”
“Promise?”
Heiwa smiled. “Fate does not make promises. It likes to surprise us all too much.”
Helena frowned, not understanding complete. “Is the bat lady here to make Illy safe?”
Heiwa set the girl down, now that the storm in the child’s eyes was past and picked up the wooden flute again. “She’s here to make all of us safe.”
“If she’s not my mama too, how come you call us sisters?”
Heiwa patted her head. “An answer for another time. Our’s is short just now, and we need to pack. Have you been practicing?”
“Yeah!” Helena said.
“Show me, little one.”
The girl smiled too big for her face and dashed off to pack her things.
Q:Preboot!Barbara, who is still Oracle, is given a choice on whether she wants to live a life as Batgirl (basically get that shady cure in the reboot).
based briefly on a RP I had with @OracleMask. Briefly as in, she shared the article and it spawned a nickname. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the article or how it was supposed to help so…comic-science time.
“What’s with the all the colorful lights? Could it be you’re finally listening to my interior design ideas?” Batgirl was pulling herself through the window and could see the lights on Barbara’s screen. Babs could hear her knocking her thigh belt against the window sill and wondered if it’d ever dent from the new Batgirl’s abuse. Stephanie wasn’t as nimble as Cass always was.
“It’s a new treatment for paralysis,” Oracle explained, “using the same kind of technology put into LCD lights.”
Stephanie pushed back her cowl and raked her fingers through the tangled and sweaty strands. She frowned as her gloves got stuck somewhere in the back of her head and jerked them out.
“So what, this means you’re going to be Rainbow Brite, now?”
The edges of Babs’ mouth twitched but she covered it with the tips of her fingers resting together in front of her.
“No. But I wouldn’t get too comfortable in that suit.”
Stephanie scanned the article, eyebrows knitting together at the test accounts and progress of the new therapy. It wasn’t alien technology or magic mumbo jumbo, just human science and real potential.
“Aw, I just got broken in, too,” Stephanie continued with the quip-dance. “It hugs me in just the right places.”
Babs pulled up another window, eclipsing the cure with the physical read-out from the night’s patrol.
“You aren’t pushing the sensors anywhere astounding,” she said to Steph’s waved hand.
“My speed’s increased by double,” the mocked Batgirl pointed. “It’s not superhuman but…”
“You might even get half as fast as Cass one day.”
“Ouch.”
“Just saying.”
“True…”
They were silent as Stephanie unbuckled her boots and peeled off her gloves. The stomping and flailing filled the air as Oracle looked over more case files and stats. She had a minimum of twelve windows up at any given time, probably keeping track of everyone’s cases in her mind. From Batman to the Birds, she could recall any detail they mentioned to her and already have contacts for the major suspects waiting in case they called. The world was at her fingertips. Sometimes Stephanie would brew herself some coffee and watch. Babs said she couldn’t be quiet but the truth was that she overlooked those moments when she was wrapped in her work. Stephanie saw Babs at her most energetic, mind racing over case points and details that rivaled Batman’s bouts of zen. Truthfully, Babs was more impressive than Batman. Where he sat stationary in thought, Babs was animated, looking into more, pulling up everything, stretching her arms as far into the digital world as possible.
Stephanie could customize her Facebook and make it speak pirate. She was impressed.
“Would you try it? If it meant being Batgirl again?” she asked. She never asked and told herself she never would. It wasn’t something she really deserved to know, but it was always in the back of her mind. How could it not be? Barbara was Batgirl. The first. If being Robin had felt liberating, Batgirl was a heavier cowl, not constricting, but still daunting. Between Cass and Babs… but this was about something more. It wasn’t just asking “hey, you want your cowl back?” but more “if you gained the ability to walk…” it felt like a cheap question. Like waving away everything that had ever happened to Babs as if it were nothing and then asking to go back to her glory days. Stephanie didn’t like asking it, didn’t like thinking about it like that.
Barbara didn’t answer right away and at first Stephanie expected this was a dropped subject. Time to cut the losses and head home. She added “Pick up donuts” to tomorrow’s game plan.
“Not to for that reason,” the red head said finally. Stephanie looked up from packing her bag, waiting for more. Oracle didn’t turn to her, but pulled up the window again. “Don’t think I haven’t asked myself this a thousand times already. If I could get out of this chair, if I could be healed, somehow, I would. If I could feel my legs again, like I only think I do sometimes, I wouldn’t turn it down. But not for Batgirl. I used to think that it’d be amazing, to go back on those rooftops. And maybe I will get back out there one day. Heaven knows Dinah needs someone to watch her back.”
She paused and took off her glasses, rubbing the dry from her eyes. “But Batgirl’s not me anymore. Like you said, it fits you better anyway.” She replaced her glasses. “And I like being the information junkie. Being able to walk just means more hands-on surveillance.”
“So… you’d rather be the most powerful cyber-junkie in the world, then run around in bat-ears again?”
“Exactly. You don’t know how fun it is to irk Batman from the comfort of my own home.
Q:Not sure if this is the right anon, but I'm the one who posted about the Pony-drunk Steph, the Steph/Gage SUPER AWKWARD strip club meeting, and... ummmm...one other one that slipped my mind. I just want to let you know, I love you too. Totally platonic, though. Cause, you know... Fiancee and all that... Yeah, I liked it, so I put a ring on it. The rest of her is great too, but damn she's got a great ring finger!
Anonymous
Yes, you anon! I’m going to write the Steph/Gage thing but I’m planning it out a bit better, but you give awesome ideas.
I meant platonic love too. I’m happy you have a lovely ring finger to love-love for the rest of your life. Feel free to invade my ask/prompt box any time!
Q:Steph/Zatanna; "So I've been told I taste like Christmas. What does that mean?"
Anonymous
“I taste like Christmas, you know?” Stephanie said. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best tension-spliter but all the magical nonsense with Zatanna was really bring back strong memories of the other magical adventure.
Zatanna popped an eyebrow but didn’t otherwise look up from the giant old spell book she was flipping through.
“Just, kinda wondering what that actually meant,” Stephanie continued, not appreciating the silence. Not in a room full of ugly statues that looked like they could spring to life with a bad touch and eat her. It was either talking or touching, and none of these do-hickeys looked especially non-threatening to wield.
“I mean, do I taste like peppermint? I do have this lipgloss that tastes like that, but I wasn’t wearing it. It makes my lips tingly and anyway it was Valentine’s Day. It’s not like I had eaten gingerbread right before hunting down that stupid cat.”
“Had a run-in with Klarion?” Zee asked, starting to pick up on just exactly what Batgirl was jabbering about.
“Things were, er, they got interesting. Not that we did anything!” Stephanie wanted to make that very clear.
“Except kiss.”
Okay. Point. “It was Valentine’s Day. And Jordanna, ugh.”
“Jordanna, huh?” Zatanna rested her check against her palm, watching the color wash Batgirl’s face under the cowl.
“Nevermind,” Stephanie said, attempting her best Batman-cape-blending-to-shadows-thing.
“Well, if I know anything about Klarion, he probably said it as a complaint. Which you should take as a compliment.” Zatanna rose from her seat. “Now, are you ready to change everyone back to normal or are we still sharing make-out stories.”
