19662/A Very Stacy Thanksgiving

A Very Stacy Thanksgiving
Date of Scene:	14 December 2024
Location:	Captain George Stacy's Apartment, New York City
Synopsis:	After moving in with him in Gotham, Gwen Stacy brings her new boyfriend, Dick Grayson, to meet her father for the first time... on Thanksgiving Day. What could possibly go wrong?
Cast of Characters:	Gwen Stacy, Dick Grayson

---

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Wait, before we go in..."

In the hallway outside of apartment 4B, Gwen takes Dick's hand and pulls him up short, those blue eyes peering imploringly up at him.

It's not a run-down apartment building, but it's not super nice, either. It's a modest place in Astoria, close enough to NYPD headquarters to be convenient but far enough from Manhattan to be affordable.

Gwen has chosen a chunky, cream-colored, cable-knit sweater, the front of which she's tucked into a pair of nice slacks. Her bob-cut still holds evidence of the pink dye from her modeling gig, and she wears a modest amount of makeup, highlighting her eyes. Hoop earrings dangle from her ears. It's 'nice' compared to her normally casual punk-rock style, but it's not over the top.

"I know I've said this a million times already, but no matter what happens in there... just... promise me again you'll try not to hold it against me?"

It's almost as if they're being forced to march straight into gladiatorial combat, chins held high, and Gwen is trying to prepare Dick for the grim possibility that they may never see each other again. Yet, they both know the truth -- that this is, at most, an awkward lifeline to the only real family that Gwen has left... if George Stacy can even really be considered that, given that the daughter he raised died over five years ago.

In this reality, Gwen is, at best, an imposter. But for both of their sakes, she's made no attempt to correct that. They've both lost so much. George thought he lost his daughter to a coma, only to have her emerge from it and lose his wife, Helen, not long after.

For Gwen, the time with her mother was both a gift and a curse. It was nothing short of a miracle to have just a little more time to spend with her, even if she wasn't the same woman she knew, but she had to endure her loss to cancer a second time. It's that loss that, at least in part, drives Gwen's scientific research.

There was no good time to tell her father 'the truth,' and she's not sure she could, anymore, even if she wanted to. Not about his real daughter being dead. Not about her activities as Ghost-Spider, who he leads a kind of anti-vigilante campaign against. In his eyes, no matter how much good they may or may not do, the Spiders commit crimes without being held accountable.

Even if a world where super-powered heroes are needed to stop super-powered villains, where the loss of life and property without them may be astronomically higher, George Stacy still sees no one as above the law. The Spiders must be held accountable.

But this isn't about that.

This is Thanksgiving, a time for dwelling not on what's lost or missing, but on what you're grateful to have. For Gwen, that means maintaining some tenuous connection to her father, even if the secrets strain their relationship just as much here as they did back in her home dimension. And it also means her new and powerful connection to Dick Grayson, their budding relationship that's blooming faster and brighter than she could ever have hoped. He's given her a home, a new family. Not just walls and a roof, but place to share experiences and create memories with the man she loves.

Balancing her various lives is a delicate feat. At school, OsCorp, with her dad, crime-fighting as Ghost-Spider, and now modeling of all things.. she's a different version of herself for all of them. With Dick, though, she can just be herself. She can relax. And it's that feeling of comfort that brings a smile to her lips even now, that steadies her as she squeezes his hand.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Of course Dick knows a little something when it comes to hiding ones true self from those around you. Those that you care about.

Sure, he maintains a secret identity like many other heroic types. It is pretty much part and parcel of the package, a way to keep himself a little safer when he isn't Nightwing, when he is just trying to live his life. But also to protect the people around him. And the secrets of their own those people have to maintain.

So he understands the challenges she faces better then most. He at least has a frame of reference. An example.

It's just not his own.

Yes, he keeps his lives as Nightwing and Dick Grayson separate. Yes, he is careful about just who he lets into the know. But he otherwise doesn't work quite so hard to keep those disparate parts of himself from bleeding into each other from time to time. He isn't some grim avenger when the mask and costume goes on. He still can crack fun, can still let some of Dick Grayson bleed into how Nightwing acts, what he does.

But the reverse is true as well. That desire to not feel limited about where and when he can help people is part of the reason he joined the Bludhaven Police Department and later transferred to Gotham. He doesn't have to pretend to be something that he is not. Not when the costume is on. Not when it is off either. They do differ in that respect.

But he certainly has had an example of just that sort of thing right in front of him for much of his life. Exhibit A, in so many respects. No one plays that game quite so hard as Bruce Wayne, all in a quest to conceal what should otherwise be obvious to anyone who gives it much thought.

Her circumstances are different of course. She faces a challenge that Bruce doesn't, not even technically being from this dimension. She has been, in essence, thrust into a life that isn't her own, left to pick up pieces from lives shattered before she ever arrived, and find a way to make it work. It is, perhaps, a choice, but certainly one that is less clear cut then the one that Bruce has made. One made for very different reasons.

Sure, she could do what she has done for a few select others. She could share the truth with her 'father', at least in this reality. She could watch as those memories flood back, of his little girl laying dead in the morgue. She could, in essence, lose him all over again just as he loses his daughter again. It would be the truth. But it might be an example when the truth doesn't really benefit either of them. Not him, not her.

It's not a perfect situation. It's just better then any of the other alternatives.

Which brings them to today. To Thanksgiving in New York with her dad. He might not realize that either of them are the vigilante sorts that he has a degree of contempt for - today would probably be even worse if he did - but that doesn't mean that the holiday will necessarily go any more smoothly.

She's given up her apartment, chosen to partially relocate to a different city, for a man she has outwardly known only for a matter of weeks.

And he is... well, who knows what offense might be worse in George Stacy's eye. A police officer, dragging his baby girl back into a life of constant worry? A spoiled rich kid playing at being a cop? The jackass who talked his daughter into moving into him, to moving to a different city after just weeks of knowing her?

He has a lot of reasons to potentially be less then enamored with her choice in men.

But none of that seems to phase Dick. Dressed in tan slacks and a dark blue sweater with more festive red piping, he simply reaches out to take her hand, to give it a squeeze as he flashes a smile her way. "It'll be fine. We face way worse then this every day."

Famous last words? They shall see.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Do we, though?"

Gwen's smile turns wry as she steps forward, briefly tucking her head under his chin and squeezing him around his middle before stepping back again. It lasts just a couple of seconds before she's pulling back again, dragging a set of keys out of the pocket of the backpack slung over her shoulder -- the one that presumably also has her Ghost-Spider costume in it. With a brief jingle, she shifts to the door, unlocks the deadbolt, then turns the knob and steps in first.

Surely he wouldn't shoot his own daughter, right?

"Hey, Dad! It's just us."

The apartment is filled the smell of a Thanksgiving meal being cooked. The turkey is in the oven, plus there's the smell of stuffing and fresh rolls lingering in the air, perhaps even a hint of sweetness from the pies.

"In the kitchen!" comes George Stacy's voice.

The apartment isn't huge, but it's not tiny. It's a two bedroom with enough room to entertain a few guests -- a space easily large enough for a small family of three. Probably almost too much for a widower by himself, yet it's very much... home. It still has all of the personal touches around. Family photos of the three of them (many of which include Gwen with either her mom or dad, sometimes both.. just not this Gwen), trinkets collected over years, academic trophies that the other Gwen won.

It's easy to see how someone who had none of these memories could feel out of place pretending to be the girl growing up in the pictures -- how it could make her feel like even more of an imposter than she does on a daily basis. Which is probably part of the reason she and her father don't live together anymore.

Gwen puts the keys back in her bag and sets it down near the door, waiting for a moment for Dick to get a lay of the land before leading him towards the kitchen.

There, around a corner, the kitchen isn't huge, but like the rest of the place, it's ample for a small family. And inside it is a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying blonde hair in a blue, button-down shirt, nice slacks, and an apron. He's in the process of cooking, but he looks up as their footsteps draw closer, finding Gwen first with a small, affectionate smile.

Then his eyes fall too Dick, and there's a quiet moment of consideration. He makes no rush in his examination, but there's no vitriol in his gaze. It's the kind of appraisal Dick would be familiar with, in law enforcement. It's 'the look' everyone gets from a vigilant cop -- a threat and character assessment all in one, long, sweeping glance.

"Dad, this is my boyfriend," Gwen offers while her father is conducting that assessment. "Dick Grayson."

Maybe it seems superfluous to her to finish the introduction from the other direction. Gwen had already briefed Dick on Captain George Stacy.

Those words are barely out of her mouth, though, before George is on his way around the counter to scoop Gwen up in a one-armed hug that she instinctively returns, even as he places a kiss on top of her head. It separates her hand from Dick's, and when George releases her, he turns his attention back to Dick, extending a hand.

"Dick. I've heard a lot about you," he says, the words stiff enough to be taken either as a compliment or a threat.

Dick Grayson has posed:
They face down costumed psycopaths and world threatening disasters on a regular basis. Dick has gone up against the sadistic clown, the Joker and faced him down without flinching. He has fought aliens. He has battled demon lords from other dimensions, all without hesitation. When stacked against all of that just how threatening can one middle aged police captain truly be?

Of course the issue is that Captain George Stacy presents a very different sort of threat. It's not likely to be a physical one of course. Dick really can't imagine a world in which the man takes a swing at him for having the audacity to date the woman he thinks of as his daughter. He's not likely to pull out his gun and open fire. But that doesn't mean that there could not be wounds of a different sort inflicted if things go wrong.

And yet, if Dick is nervous about this he certainly gives no sign. Some of that might be as a result of his nature, his background, his experience in dealing with things far more daunting then a dinner with his girlfriend's dad. Some of it might be the firm conviction that, regardless of what happens, he and Gwen are solid and her father's disapproval isn't likely to change that in any profound way.

But most of it probably just has to do with the legitimate belief that things will be fine between them. If the man is any sort of police officer, any sort of observer of human behavior it shouldn't be hard for him to see that Dick genuinely cares about Gwen, that he loves her and that they are genuinely good together.

At the end of the day, what decent father could want anything else for his daughter?

Her reply draws a grin from him and he gives her a reassuring squeeze once more. "We do," he asserts quietly, not a hint of doubt in his voice. "It will be fun."

That last might be something of an exaggeration. Or at least blindly optimistic to be sure. But there certainly doesn't seem to be any tension in Dick about this meeting. He genuinely seems like he might even be looking forward to it, at least after a fashion. Meeting the parents is something of a rite of passage afterall. A step in most normal relationships. And while theirs might be unusual for all sorts of reasons, having a few normal elements seems almost reassuring in some respects.

So hand in hand, he follows her into the apartment, all those little mementos and photos that cling to the walls and tables, that seem to radiate the feel of family throughout hitting him first, capturing his attention.

Under other circumstances it would be rather heartwarming, an intriguing look into the life of the woman he loves before he was a part of it. But of course Dick knows the truth in this case. He is aware of the fact that the girl in the photos is not the Gwen he knows, the one he has come to adore.

And he both knows and understands how it must affect her, walking in amongst all these memories that are not her, no matter how much of a resemblance their might be.

He gives her hand another little squeeze, some of that anxiousness about the day perhaps coming a little more into focus. Maybe that's the reason he doesn't try to linger, to stop and examine any of the pictures in great detail. This isn't her life. What matters is the one they're making now. Together.

Following her into the kitchen, he surrenders his hold on her as her 'dad' wraps her up in that hug, an amiable smile on his face as he dips his head towards the other man. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last Captain Stacy," he offers up quietly. It is even perhaps a sign of respect that he gives the other man the same sort of assessment in turn, sizing him up.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
George Stacy smiles. Not the smile of a man that's genuinely pleased to meet his likely future son-in-law, but the smile of a detective who was just handed a new piece of evidence in a case.

At last.

"What's it been?" the Captain asks with warmth that doesn't reach his eyes. "Three.. four weeks? The wait must have been excruciating."

There's a sudden tightening of that shake. Not a test, a point made.

"I'm sorry I couldn't fit it into my schedule a couple of weeks ago. I was busy moving my daughter out of her apartment like it was on fire." That smile remains, and finally the shake drops as George turns back to what he was doing, stepping back into the kitchen with sure steps. "How is Gotham, by the way?"

That last is asked towards Gwen, who's gone somewhat rigid -- especially in the line of her jaw, which moves and flexes ever so slightly like she's subtly chewing on everything she hasn't said out loud.

"It's great, actually," she answers, voice strained. "Wayne Manor is... huge. You'd probably spend all day just in the garage. There were.. I don't know how many cars and motorcycles. The collection is kind of staggering. But we're in the Lakehouse. It's separate but only the same property. It's really very pretty." And it has a Batcave underneath it, though she doesn't include that little tidbit.

"Uh-huh," George says in thought while he's chopping, then stops suddenly and looks up, gesturing around with the knife in his hand. "Oh, you kids make yourselves at home. Gwennie, you know where everything is. There's water and beer and eggnog... some cranberry drink the lady at the store said would be good."

Then he's back to chopping, and without waiting to see what they do, he continues, "So, Wayne Manor. That's... quite a change. What about... Bruce? It's Bruce, right? The multi-billionaire?"

His tone stops short of being a straight-up insult to Dick's adoptive father, but if Dick were to guess that the bulk of what George knew about Bruce was what appeared in the tabloids, he wouldn't be far off. Chances are, George spent a few hours Googling Dick and Bruce and anyone else closely related to them once he found out what Gwen was up to.

"What does Bruce think about you moving in to his house? Do you get along?"

There's an undercurrent of both worry and jealousy there -- that his little girl is moving in to some other father's home, under Bruce's wing, instead of his own. And judging by Captain Stacy's reputation, the fact that it was a bat wing wouldn't reduce that worry one bit.

But the question hits Gwen like a gut punch. She's not sure how to answer. There's a flare of defensiveness. She wants to say it's Dick's house, not Bruce's, but... she can't. She wants to say they get along fine, but... she can't. She's never met Bruce.

"What would you like to drink?" Gwen asks stiffly, turning her gaze up at Dick to buy some time while she tried to think of something that wasn't just snapping at her father to be happy for her and stop grilling her.

Dick Grayson has posed:
It is safe to assume that Dick wasn't exactly expecting the warmest of receptions.

The sheer nervousness that Gwen exhibited about this dinner would have give him the clues if nothing else, but it doesn't exactly take a deductive genius to guess that the man might not be thrilled with the situation.

To his knowledge they have only recently met - and while Dick has technically known Gwen, this Gwen, longer then he has, the man doesn't, can't know that. And despite that they have already moved into together. No only moved in together, but Dick has seemingly convinced his only child to relocate to an entirely different city at that. And not just any city. Gotham City. Not exactly a place famed for its safety and security.

Add that he is a cop too with the dangers and hardships that brings along. Add in the fact that he is rich, so can easily be painted with the dillitante brush. Add in that his adopted father is Bruce Wayne, best known perhaps - at least outside Gotham - for being a playboy, with a new model slash starlet slash pop star slash socialite on his arm every few weeks, and well, the not so concealed level on animosity isn't exactly a surprise.

It also doesn't seem to faze Dick in the least.

Whatever the man might think he has deduced Dick has no doubt that it is a pretty far cry from the truth. Afterall, everyone carries blind spots. It takes a great deal of work to overcome them.

So that smile just continues to rest on his features as he shakes the other man's hand, seemingly undeterred by those not entirely subtle little barbs. "Lets say it's just overdue then," the dark haired man offers up quietly before letting their host return to the dinner preparations, to his chopping and dicing. "If you need a hand with anything, do let me know," he adds.

Somehow he doesn't real expect to be taken up on his offer.

Freed from that handshake though, it does let Dick slip back over to join Gwen who is clearly struggling a little to maintain that veneer of pleasantness under that passive-aggressive onslaught. And while he isn't trying to provoke the man, or lay a claim, he does slip an arm around her back, hand resting on the small of it to stroke gently, soothingly. It has nothing to do with him at all and everything to do with her, lending what sense of comfort, his own sense of surety in what is not exactly the easiest of situations for her clearly.

"The estate is fairly large. It's a several minute walk to get to the actual Manor and our place is off in the woods. We're pretty isolated so needless to say we don't see Bruce all that often," Dick offers up quietly. There is nothing antagonizing to his words, but nothing reassuring either. He might prefer that Captain Stacy like him, prefer that the man accept their situation. But really, all that matters to him is that Gwen does.

"We're all pretty busy though with our own things. But Bruce trusts me. And trusts my judgement," he adds with a smile. Is it a barb? If so it is far more subtle then some of the ones lobbed in his own direction so far. But his gaze is already sliding to the exquisite blonde at his side, that arm tightening just a little around her, unable to quite help but draw her a little closer.

"Water's good. Or whatever you're having."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Gwen leans into Dick's arm as it slips around her like she's trying to absorb his calm. She's not intentionally trying to goad her father, but there's something about her connection to Dick that's just... magnetic. He's like a camp fire in the middle of a blizzard.

Her father's nostrils flare at Dick's response, but he says nothing at first, instead setting the knife down with a sharp clack. "Trust is a valuable commodity." He lifts the lid off a pot of cranberry sauce, and a wave of tangy, spiced aroma fills the air as he stirs briefly before setting the lid back in place.

"Dad," Gwen says, sharper than she intended, leaving the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the soft scrape of a spoon to fill the void.

George glances over his shoulder with a faint smirk. "What? Just making conversation."

With a brief glance at Dick, Gwen steps back out into the 'blizzard,' leaving him briefly to move to the cabinet and pull down two fancy glasses. "I'll get you that drink," she says, keeping her tone even. Instead of going to the sink, she opens the fridge and pulls out the cranberry drink her dad had mentioned. As she pours, the bright red liquid sparkles against the glass, flecked with hints of lime and mint.

She looks up at her father while she's pouring, her voice lowered, plaintive. Not hiding her words from Dick, but clearly appealing directly to the source of the tension. "It's Thanksgiving. Can we just... not?"

George pauses, the spoon in his hand hovering over the pot before he nods. "Alright. Let's just enjoy dinner."

Gwen relaxes slightly, finishing the drinks and setting a sprig of mint in each one for garnish. She hands one to Dick with a faint smile. "Cranberry Bliss," she says. "That's what it said. If you don't like it, I'll get you something else."

She takes a sip herself, her lips quirking a bit from the tart sweetness.

Turning briefly back to the table, she brightens as if willing the mood to continue shift. "Oh! I... had my first modeling gig the other day," she says, the words tumbling out before she's fully thought them through.

George frowns slightly, looking at her with confusion. "Your first?"

"The first... since the coma, I mean," Gwen rushes to clarify, her cheeks flushing. She glances at Dick for reassurance, slipping back in against his side before continuing. "It was for this indie fashion line. Just some photos for their holiday campaign. It was actually pretty fun."

George's expression softens, though his eyes flick briefly to Dick as if considering how much influence he might have had on this unexpected turn in his daughter's life. "Huh. So you decided to get back into modeling?"

Gwen laughs nervously, lifting her glass again. "Yeah, well... new year, new me, right?" She looks at Dick, her smile lingering. "Dick's been teaching me to... loosen up, some, I guess."

She can't explain to her father that Dick has made her feel more 'at home' and 'at ease' with her surroundings than anyone or anything has since she got sucked into this dimension... maybe even before that. It would hurt him, and it certainly wouldn't make any sense. But the sentiment is there in her eyes when she looks up at Dick, that familiar warmth and gratitude in her gaze that can't possibly be mistaken for anything except what it is...

Love.

She turns her attention back to her father when he makes a little noise, catching him watching her and blushing a little. "You should see the place, though. The lakehouse is quiet, surrounded by woods. There's even a little dock. You'd like it, if you came to visit."

George grunts noncommittally, but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, just slightly. "Might take you up on that sometime."

Then he shifts his attention to Dick, his expression sharpening with the focus of a seasoned detective. "So, Grayson. Gotham PD's a hell of a place to work. What's it been like for you?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
Chances are that when Dick finally has the opportunity to introduce Gwen to Bruce all of this will go a little more easily. Whether or not his adoptive father figure will make a good impression or not is certainly up for debate of course. Though chances are Alfred will be able to moderate any extreme behavior.

But then Dick isn't his only daughter. There are also no great, huge secrets looming over them. He has no reason to believe that Dick might need his protection because of that fact. It is a luxury that Gwen doesn't have. Not without the very real chance, maybe even the likelihood of ruining everything between them.

Of course, while they can probably expect a fine meeting between Gwen and Bruce, Ghost-Spider and Batman might be another matter. And in some ways that is the one that counts. While Batman might wear the cowl, it is Bruce Wayne that is the mask. The Dark Knight is closer to who he really is.

That is still to come though and not something they have to worry about today. Today Dick just has to do what he can to make things a little easier on her. Compared to what they do each night this is nothing. There's no life or death here. Though the fact that the stakes are a little more personal means that it is not like it doesn't matter at all.

In the end, Dick isn't going to shrink away. He isn't going to pretend that they don't feel a little better, a little more natural when they can touch one another. He's not going to pretend he doesn't want to pull her close and shelter from the latent tension hanging over this little gathering.

But he also knows that she can deal with it. That he doesn't need to antagonize her father.

So Dick just smiles when she slips away, when she makes that quiet appeal for a truce - at least for the rest of dinner. He takes that offered drink, smiling at her, letting those fingers linger on her own for just a moment before they slip away. "It's perfect," he assures her quietly, taking a sip and nodding his approval at the mix of tastes.

"I do what I can," he agrees, another smile sliding across his expression. It's probably best not to go into too much detail about some of the ways they loosen up together, at least if hostilities are not going to renew.

Though whether he likes it or not it certainly looks like George Stacy is going to have to get used to the idea. That emotional bond isn't going anywhere.

He echoes that invitation, slipping over next to her once more. "You're certainly welcome to visit whenever. We're a little off the beaten track, but it's worth it," Dick asserts.

"As for the GCPD, I actually started in Bludhaven, so it could definitely be worse," he adds wryly. "Gotham is home though. It has been since Bruce took me in as a kid. It's not an easy job, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm not big on giving up."

Which might not be what the man wants to hear if he is hoping that Dick and Gwen might be a passing fad.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Gwen's lips curve into a smile at Dick's words, warmth flickering in her eyes as he takes the drink and lets his fingers linger against hers. It's such a small gesture, but it warms her from the inside out -- it makes her glow a little brighter.

"It's true," she says, her tone light as she picks up the thread of the conversation. "He doesn't give up. Not when it matters."

Her gaze shifts toward her father, testing the waters, before she takes another sip of her cranberry drink. "You know, I was worried about moving to Gotham at first. I mean, it's Gotham," she adds, laughing nervously. "But... Dick's been amazing. It's not just a city to him... and it reminds me of someone else I know."

Her smile softens affectionately at her father, even as George watches them both carefully, a hint of a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. He might know when his emotions are being played, but he also knows his daughter well enough to know it isn't just flattery. Gwen doesn't stick her neck out like that for just anyone.

George sets the spoon down and leans one hand against the counter, focusing his attention fully on Dick now. "Bludhaven, huh?" he says, his tone thoughtful. "That's no walk in the park either."

There's a pause, just long enough to feel deliberate.

"Gotham might be home for you, but I've heard what that city does to good cops. Breaks 'em down, chews 'em up." His blue eyes narrow just slightly, but there's no malice, only the weight of experience. It seems he might actually be heeding his daughter's plea for peace. "You planning to stick it out there long-term? Or is this just a stepping stone?"

Gwen straightens slightly, the tension in her shoulders creeping back in as her father's question hangs in the air. But instead of interjecting, she glances at Dick, trusting him to handle it in his own way. Her shoulder, however, dips against his side again in a silent show of solidarity.

It's hard to tell if George Stacy would think that anyone was good enough for Gwen. From what she's said, he's been protective almost to the point of paranoia ever since she's known this version of him. It's also hard to tell if Dick himself, the fact that Gwen moved to Gotham, or anything else makes it worse... or of this is just how they interact -- constantly on the verge of being openly adversarial.

It certainly explains Gwen's reticence both to introduce Dick to her father and to try to ingratiate herself with any of the rest of his family. She doesn't really know anything about Bruce, either, except what she's heard about him and Elon Musk and Lex Luthor and Tony Stark and the rest of the world's eccentric billionaires.

Bruce took Dick in as a kid, though, and the man he raised as a result steals her breath on a daily basis. Bruce can't possibly be that bad. She dreads the thought of not living up to Bruce's standards, though -- of being told to her face that she's not good enough for his son. After all, one never knows what sorts of blunt assertions are going to come out of the mouths of fathers, much less eccentric billionaires.

But while George Stacy might have prodded and jabbed, at least until Gwen asked him to behave, she never really expected him to come out and voice disapproval. Not of a man like Dick Grayson. Not a fellow cop -- a good cop -- and part of a good family with respectable ties to Gotham and the world as a whole, whatever Bruce may choose to do with the occasional supermodel or three.

Especially not if he wanted to keep Gwen 'home' for Thanksgiving. Because one thing Gwen Stacy has never been, in any incarnation, is a pushover.

No, whatever protectiveness George Stacy might feel towards his daughter, he might resent her being moved further away, but it's not at all clear that he wants Dick gone from her life.

Dick Grayson has posed:
It is probably a good thing that George Stacy doesn't want Dick gone from his daughter's life - even if he doesn't mind seeing if he can push him just a little bit. Because if it isn't clear yet, it surely will be clear with a little more time.

Dick isn't going anywhere.

That cranberry drink in hand, his other arm wrapped around Gwen still - grateful for her presence at his side, for that silent show of solidarity - he takes another sip from it before simply smiling. The look he shoots her is anything but subtle, so full of affection in that moment, and his arm tightens around her just a little. Like it or not, they both have one another's backs, that much is on clear display.

"As a general rule, I don't close off possibilities," he offers up quietly, finally pulling his gaze from the exquisite blonde at his side, flashing them back to the fellow cop who continues to work on the dinner across the kitchen. "Circumstances might change," he adds. Afterall, he can do the public servant thing just about anywhere. Gwen might have to be more picky about where she pursues her own career and while they haven't explicitly spoken about that, it is an unspoken acknowledgement that he is there, along for the ride, wherever it takes them.

She was willing to join him in Gotham, to make that daily commute back to New York for her education, or her internship. But because that's where they are for the moment, that doesn't mean it is where they are from now on. He's left Gotham in the past - for the Titans, to attend Hudson University, to look over Bludhaven when it needed it. He would assuredly do it again if there was need. He would assuredly do it again for her.

"But no, Gotham isn't a stepping stone. It's not the easiest place to be a cop maybe - though it's better then it was when I was a kid - but if I ever leave again it will be for a good reason. Not because I'm looking for anything safer or simpler," he admits.

Then there is the fact that it is also where his family is. Maybe not by blood. But certainly by choice. By bonds that in their own way are so much deeper then mere blood. It's not the sort of thing that one forsakes lightly. Especially not Dick. Not without a good cause. And the only cause that would qualify in his life right now would most definitely be her.

"I know Gotham's reputation certainly, and it's not like it isn't well earned. But Commissioner Gordon's force is a far cry from Commissioner Loeb's. You can't get rid of all the bad apples, but there's a whole lot less of them these days," he adds quietly. It helps that the Five Families don't have anywhere near the kind of influence that they had when Bruce first started his activities. There are not anywhere near as many cops on the take. And dealing with the costumed madmen that has replaced the Carmine Falcone's as the scourge of the city isn't anywhere near as profitable. Or safe. Or sane.

But it's not hard to see why George Stacy might have a few reservations about his only daughter living there. About his only daughter getting involved with a police officer in a city that has a reputation for having police officers targeted. He gets it. It's one of the reasons that makes it a little easier not to rise up, to try and pick and prod right back. Why he doesn't feel the need to thump his chest.

This man might not be his Gwen's actual father. But he thinks he is. And while his his level of paranoid concern might be a little stifling - while it might not serve him quite as well as something a little more reasonable - it is understandable.

Maybe on some level, despite magic, despite everything, the man knows that he already lost his daughter once. And he'll be damned if he loses her again.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Dick isn't going anywhere. And neither is Gwen.

Not as far as their relationship is concerned.

The two of them share a kind of trust and loyalty that Gwen's father may never be able to understand the root of, but it would be hard to miss even if you weren't a seasoned police captain. While Gwen may hope that she's never put in a position to have to choose between the two of them, she has quite clearly put her cards on the table.

She loves Dick Grayson, and she won't waver from his side. Her father can accept that or not, though her handling of the tension in the room makes it quite clear she hopes he does. She doesn't want yet one more thing to be wedged between them.

'If I ever leave again it will be for a good reason.'

The words bring Gwen's blue eyes back up to Dick, a glint of something in them. Curiosity, perhaps? They hadn't talked about it. Gwen hadn't even entertained the idea of Dick moving to New York for her... it didn't make any sense. She was the one who wanted to be closer to him, and she had nothing to offer him except for a one-bedroom apartment with a window that had recently been shot out by automatic rifle fire. The fact that Dick was even wiling to let her move in with him felt like a boon -- a way to spend time with him, a way to save money. And yeah, the commute can be exhausting at times, but it's worth it.

George leans back against the counter, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. His stance shifts from interrogative to contemplative, the hard lines of his expression easing, replaced by a faint, almost begrudging smile. He glances between Gwen and Dick, his eyes lingering just long enough to take in the unspoken bond between them -- the way they lean into each other, the way Gwen looks up at Dick like he might she might just be in awe of him. The tension in his shoulders slackens.

"You've got a point about Gordon," George says finally, his voice softer, less pointed than before. "From what I've heard, he's done good work out there. Cleaned up a lot of the mess. I've always thought a precinct runs from the top down. If you've got someone like Gordon calling the shots, maybe you've got a fighting chance."

He pushes off the counter, moving back to the stove to check the cranberry sauce. The rhythmic sound of the spoon scraping the bottom of the pot fills the quiet moment. "You know," he continues, glancing over his shoulder at Dick, "back in the day, my old partner and I used to have this running bet. We'd talk about what city had it worse -- Gotham or New York. He swore it was Gotham. I said New York had its fair share of lunatics. Maybe we were both right."

George chuckles faintly, shaking his head. "We had this case once -- guy thought he was a vampire. Used to hang out in the subway tunnels, scaring the hell out of people. Took weeks to track him down. Turned out, he was just some rich kid from Tribeca with a thing for bats." His gaze flicks meaningfully to Dick, the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Gwen stifles a laugh, pressing her lips together, though her shoulders relax visibly as the tension in the room begins to ebb.

George sets the spoon down and gestures toward the counter. "Hey, since you're not going anywhere, you mind helping me out? I need someone to carve the turkey. Gwen's always claimed I'm no good at it."

He might as well have given Dick his blessing. Gwen's lips part in surprise, and the smile that spreads across her face is pure delight.

"Not in any dimension," she adds playfully, and though the irony of it is lost on her father, Gwen does look warmly and pointedly at Dick. There's something grateful in her eyes, but it's not hard to figure out why. He didn't rise to any of the bait. He didn't challenge her father. He didn't make this moment more difficult for any of them. He let her father have his moment of protest and took the high road, and it eventually paid off.

Dick Grayson has posed:
They still have so many things to discuss.

That is pretty natural. In so many ways what grew between them happened so fast. Yes, it might have been more then four years in the making, but when the stars finally aligned from them they didn't exactly waste any time in plunging ahead, moving in together straight away without some of the discussion that might have otherwise been called for.

And in some respects it just makes sense. Afterall, Dick already had a comfortable place for them and while they might eventually want to find somewhere that fits the both of them, in the short term it did probably make more sense to move into the Lakehouse then her New York Apartment. It might not be the perfect solution for where they both are in their respective lives, but it still comes with a number of undeniable advantages.

For the moment at least though it would seem that they are both in the heady phase where the only thing that really matters to either of them is that they can be together. The wheres and hows of it matter so much less then that one shining fact. And who knows, perhaps that's just the way it will always be between them. Afterall, neither of them has exactly chosen to lead a normal life. That comes with a certain set of priorities that might not exactly fit the norm.

While the most important factors to the both of them might be entirely wrapped up in one another, they are not necessarily the only ones out there. They do both have other people in their lives afterall, other commitments that might play a role at times. To family, to friends, to the careers that they pursue. And while none of those might quite be the priority that they are to each other, they are still something to keep in mind.

Clearly they are both willing to make a few compromises so long as the end result is that they can get to spend the time together that they crave.

That adaptability, that willingness to do what they need to do to fit into one another's lives can pay off in other ways too, of course. Increasingly it is starting to feel that maybe, just maybe, it has paid off with this particular holiday get-together.

There are so many ways that things could have gone wrong afterall. Captain George Stacy clearly is a rather strong personality. Not someone inclined to go along to get along. At least not when it comes to any man who is going to get involved with his daughter. And while Dick might be a somewhat more agreeable sort, practiced at getting along with just about anyone, he's not what one could call a pushover either. And he is pretty practiced at pushing right back when he is pushed.

But not today. Today he is more then willing to put himself in someone else's shoes, to try and look at the things through the perspective that Gwen's father must have. To do what he needs to in order to make the whole day, the entire experience, just a little bit easier both for her, and for the only thing she has resembling family in this particular reality.

And it just might pay off.

"A thing for bats? And he lurked underground too?" Dick says, the corners of his mouth twitching as he gives a slow shake of his head. "Some people, right? It doesn't really matter where you live, there's always something." He is, of course, not at all unaware of the irony.

"I'd love to sir," he agrees at once, flashing a brief smile before sharing that secretive glance with the love of his life, giving Gwen's hand one last squeeze before slipping away to lend a hand to getting all that food on the table and the turkey carved. "It smells amazing."

Things could have gone wrong. But they didn't. One more hurdle navigated. One more challenge overcome.

Just a lifetime more of them to face. But Dick and Gwen will face them. Together.