16170/Return of the Robbie

Return of the Robbie
Date of Scene:	25 October 2023
Location:	Apartment 3A (Phoebe's Apartment)
Synopsis:	Robbie Reyes pays a visit to The Curio's apartment 3A, and reconnects with Phoebe Beacon.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Robbie Reyes

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Gotham. The mid-autumn drizzle is threatening to freeze with a cold front coming down. The city was lightly decorated for Halloween -- always a busy time in Gotham City with the amount of scary things that go 'bump' in the dark.

    Rain was pelting on the windows overlooking the Gotham street of the Curio. The building, which held a couple of different apartments for a couple different people 'in the know' had a concrete pumpkin on the front steps, lit with an electric candle.

    And inside the apartment on the third floor, facing the street, there was a pumpkin with a grinning skull carved into it peering out, acting as guard. The apartment itself was warm, with scents of cinnamon and vanilla on the air as a quickbread rests on a kitchen counter. Pumpkin and witch dish towels are set aside, and on the overstuffed couch, Phoebe Beacon is curled up, wearing a black cami with skeletons dancing on it, and likewise, comfy pajama pants with skulls. The typical uniform of the Weird Bat.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    There comes a tapping, as of someone gently rapping. Rapping at her apartment door.
    Given the hour, it may be a surpise. Particularly given the weather, not exactly the sort to encourage random visitors. But this visit came with purpose.

    Standing outside of her door, Robbie was protected from the elements by a black leather jacket, although his head is thoroughly soaked from rain. Perhaps he rode over sans helmet, but even just walking to the door would have been enough to douse him entirely, rivulets cascading down his cheeks. A slow, steady drip coming down from his chin.

    He might appear to be a sad, soaked, sodden sight once she opens the door. But the expression on his face is not precisely one of sadness. More a measure of relief. And contentment.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THere was a funny feeling she hasn't felt in a while. That prickling of ice between her vertibrae, she was up, her pink hair braided back in cornrows as she purses her lips, and feels her chest constrict.

    She's already standing before she hears the tapping, someone gently rapping, rapping at her 'partment door -- could be the wind and nothing more -- but the wind doesn't make her feel ice.

    There's the rattle of the two door chains and the deadbolt moving, and her dark eyes peer out, backlit by the light in her tiny kitchen.

    And there she was, all pajamas with the burns on her shoulder showing signs of healing, her dark eyes peering outwards with her lips pursed into a moue, and her feet with their spilled-milk paler flesh.

    For a moment she isn't sure if her heart even beat.

    And those lips curl into a gentle smile.

    "Robbie." she smiles up at him, and she moves to open her door wider.

    "Did you loose a fight with a river?" she asks softly, mirth touching her eyes.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    It does not really matter what Phoebe looks like in this particular moment. After so long apart, seeing her completed the relieving feeling of coming home.

    "I had to do some work on the way over, and I think fate didn't want me to show up in uniform, so I got doused." He reaches up to run his fingers through his short hair, and then bringing them back he flicks a small spray of water on Phoebe. He gives a nod as that door opens wider, and presumptive of an invitation, starts to make his way inside.

    "You should see the other guy."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I think if I saw the other guy, I'm duty-bound to be mad at you." Phoebe gives a small smile, and gives an 'aah!' as she's sprayed down with water, wiping it off her shoulder as she wrinkles her nose.

    "So... you... doing good?" she asks, awkwardly, motioning with her chin for him to hang his soaked through jacket up. The door's closed, and the bolt auto-locks.

    "Figured things mighta got busy for you over the summer time. Was hoping you'd swing by or call." she grins, cheeks and ears darkening a bit.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    "Yeah, pretty much," Robbie agrees, flashing a brief grin as she wipes off the rain he brought in.

    Polite enough to follow instruction, he shrugs off the leather jacket, revealing a white tank top that is mercifully somewhat dry. He at least remembered to zip up his jacket. "Better now, yeah," he says, leaning past her slowly to hang up the jacket. It brings him closer into her personal space, his voice soft as he speaks, placing the jacket down. Before he straightens, adopting a more reasonable, less intrusive distance.

    "Sorry I haven't called. I was chasing down a ..." He shrugs. "I should have called. But after so long, I wanted to come over instead." He watches her face, thinking for a moment. "Hope that's not a problem."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nah, when has anything you've ever done been a problem?" Phoebe asks with amusement. She takes a deep breath, and then just, gives a small grin, rubbing the back of her neck. "Was hoping it was you when I felt that icy feeling. Man, would have been awkward to open the door and it be like, Jason Voorhees or some other slasher villain." she cracks a joke, "I wasn't aiming for a fight tonight." she smiles, and then quietly, running her hands down her legs to her knees as she hops on the counter so the shorter girl can see him eye-to-eye.

    "It's so good to see you," she blinks those dark eyes of hers "I missed you."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    "Oh, I can think of a few things." Robbie returns that amused expression. Certainly, he has some regrets. Although the people that have run into him have likely had more. "Jason wouldn't stand a chance against you, mi munequita," he says, taking a slight step back to allow her room to hop to the counter, but then taking it forward once that space is no longer needed. He avoids, for the moment, crowding her too much.

    He meets her gaze, and nods slowly. "I missed you too. I'm sorry I was away so long, I thought it would be..." He trails off, shaking his head. "I'm not going anywhere else anytime soon, now."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ay, Jefe, okay maybe a couple of things are problematic." Phoebe gives a bright grin, and her nose wrinkles as she gives a laugh "You're probably right about that, though, I'm your tough munequita. I can take most anything life throws at me." she pauses, dramatically.

    "... unless it's crowds or high class functions. Those still scare me." she replies, and bites her lower lip.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    Robbie leans forward, placing his hands on the counter on either side of Phoebe, close enough that his thumbs just brush against the sides of her thighs briefly as they settle. "I know you can. One of the many things I appreciate you. You're tougher than I am, and that's saying a lot."

    The distance between them seems to shrink as he speaks, but so gradually that it is almost invisible whatever motion is causing it. "Rightful to be scared. Rich people eat their young, I've heard."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Only if they vote Democrat." Phoebe leans a little forward, her nose very nearly touching his, and she curls her hands a moment, and then sets them lightly attop his.

    "I'm not tougher than you are," her head gives a little shake. "You're scarier than I am though." she breathes out, looking up to count his freckles, her heart pounding in her chest a little.

    "And I can't imagine..." no, no she can actually imagine Bruce eating his 'children', a'la Saturn consuming his Young. Damnit, Goya.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    There is a soft laugh at the political humor, and whatever progress Phoebe made to bring her nose nearly touching, he completes, letting it rest gently against hers. His thumbs drift up, briefly brushing against her thighs until they can reach to her hands atop his, running gently side to side against her skin.

    "No one is scarier than I am, though," he says quietly, shifting his face a bit, using that connection of noses as a fulcrum, his breath warm against her cheeks as he leans nearer. "Except your dad."

    Once those words come out, Robbie realizes that perhaps bringing him up is not the right mood setter, and so decides to distract from that faux pas the best way he can think of.

    That last distance is crossed as his head straightens, bringing his lips to meet hers in a long awaited reunion kiss.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I keep telling people Bruce Wayne isn't my da--" Phoebe was laughing, and that was the moment Robbie chose to distract her. And it works!

    His familiar warmth and breath, the feel of his hands on her bringing her heart to ache as his lips press to hers. Her fingers curl, drawing up his arms as she gives a soft breath out, smelling of roses and black pepper as her fingers wander roughshod at his shoulders, her nails trailing over his skin, drawing past his shoulders so she can est her arms on them, lightly holding Robbie in place. She seems in no rush for him to retreat.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    Maybe it was knowing the reaction it would evoke, to allow that laugh to break whatever tension had been hanging over them. Not that it was a problem, of course. They found their own way to disperse it, easily enough.

    He gives no signs of a retreat either, letting her cling to him as he shuffles slightly forward, coming to a rest against the countertop, her legs hanging on either side of him. With her hands drifting to his arms, his own draw in slightly, sliding up and over to rest gently on her thighs. He tilts his head, lips parting as he allows his tongue to briefly taste at her lips, timed well with that soft breath.

    He smells of motor oil and grease, hard as it is to get rid of that. But that is simply the smell of him, and perhaps in this moment, it is not nearly so bad. More like...familiar.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Motor oil, exhaust, grease, hot burning metal, all aspects of Robbie's scent. Familiar and comfortable, her heart both thumping and comforted by his closeness.

    And she pulls away first, her nose trailing against his for a brief moment before her dark eyes open up, her shoulders rising up a little as she steadies her breath.

    Her arms go further over his shoulders, wrapping around his neck as she pulls herself to him, her nose drawing down and nuzzling in against his neck. There's almost no one she would ever be this physically vulnerable with. No one who could get her guard down like this. She didn't even have to speak.

    She knew he'd come back.