226/Titan Tales: Rediscovering Caitlin

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Titan Tales: Rediscovering Caitlin
Date of Scene: 02 March 2020
Location: Empire State Building
Synopsis: Dick and Caitlin reconnect on shared histories.
Cast of Characters: Caitlin Fairchild, Dick Grayson




Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
It's still not quite warm enough to enjoy the open-air balconies in New York. The sun is often bright and high but winds prevailing from the east bring chilly brine into the cityscape. But behind panes of glass, it certainly looks and feels like spring, so plenty of people enjoy the smaller cafes and bistros scattered around the city.

Caitlin's there are a few minutes early; it's a Sunday afternoon so it's likely that her modest attire is church clothing. A pink blouse with white ruffles is paired with a grey-and-pink plaid skirt that hangs to her knees, and low sensible slippers.

The pink might make her look pale were it not for the intense blaze-red of her hair, coiled into a pontail and hanging over her left shoulder. She's sitting at a table for two, the opposite chair empty; it's probably because the heavy wooden bench she's on looks sturdier than the slender wrought-iron chair opposite her position. Steam wafts up from coffee in front of her; she's not been there long, one would guess. A slender tablet's on the countertop and she seems to be doing some sort of CAD work with the stylus gripped carefully in her fingers.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dressed down in a black turtleneck sweater, and a pair of grey slacks, Dick Grayson apparently picked up on his adopted father as he is making his way into the restaurant and spies the redhead sitting alone at the table. She stands out. Not only in height and build, but she always just looks great. A smile touches his features as he makes his way over to the table where she's seated.

"Someone's lucky to be meeting you here." he offers playfully, his smile grows and it reaches his sapphire blue eyes in a brief twinkle. "Though they may have to compete with work to get your attention." Clearly he's playing this as if it hasn't already been planned with some text messages. "How've you been, Caitlin?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin looks up quickly and a beaming smile splits her face. "Richard!" She gets to her feet (careful not to bump the table) and smooths out her dress briefly, then steps forward to embrace him with a sisterly affection and a warmly sincere hug. "Oh I'm so glad you could make it today," she says gratefully.

After a few seconds she breaks (making sure he doesn't have any broken ribs) and gestures at the seat with a thoughtful consideration. She's even picked a table where Dick has a good view of the restaurant and she can see the other doors over his shoulder.

"I'm doing good. Well, okay. No, good," she amends, hedging. "Work is being weird. I mean, not work. Mister Stark. But aside from that, everything's going really well," she explains. "Do you want some coffee or something? Tea? They do really good cocoa here," she offers.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Returning the embrace, Dick chuckles. "I was glad that our schedules meshed." he admits with a chuckle as he notices the table she chose. And the vantage points and points of entry all within eyesight. There's a grateful grasp of her hands as they seperate and he takes a seat across from her. "Police work means I'm always busy." he admits with a laugh. "But I am always happy to make time for a friend."

Especially for a friend that he fought aside. And was with when it all came to an end with the deaths and funerals, and... things he doesn't try to think too hard on.

"Stark's got you on your toes more than normal?" he asks with a laugh. "I did offer you an in with Bruce's company." That's pointed out teasingly. But he understood why he believed she said no. "Coffee would be great. Plain black." After the coffee has been order, he draws in his breath.

"So I have a thing. And I think I'll need your help." He could have contacted Victor. He's just not sure yet. There's a lot he's unsure about. "What do you know about transdimensional travel?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin blinks at the question and shifts. "Funny you should ask that," she remarks. "Did you meet her, too? America?" She gives Dick a querying look. "Maybe ... I think seventeen, eighteen years old? Black hair, boisterous? No?"

Hair moves with a brief toss of her head when Dick indicates negative. "Weird. I had a run-in with her at the schoolhouse. She said she could travel between the dimensions by 'punching' through them. Which is about ten kinds of impossible, but..." Fingers flex and spread, and Caitlin shrugs with an illustrative gesture-- impossible except that she'd seen it herself. "The theory of it I understand, though it's not something I'm an expert on. It has to do with harmonics of superstrings at the Planck scale; segregation of matter intersectionality based on P-brane subatomic resonance. People think dimensions are like floors in an apartment building, and they just go through elevators to get from one to another. It's more like--" She bites her lip, eyes darting back and forth in search of a similie. "It's like wearing polarized glasses and looking at your cell phone screen," she concludes. "Wavelength interference. Otherweise everything would exist where everything else does, and then nothing could exist at all."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"America? Like the country?" Dick sounds honestly confounded, and arches a brow. But before he could go any further, Caitlin enters into nerd mode, and he's given the short dissertation on trandimensional theory. He takes a sip from his coffee and grins.

"A simple yes would have sufficed, Cait." he points out to her. But he's reaching for his phone. "Had my own run in."

Unlocking the phone and pushing a couple of files, he brings up a picture of a blonde girl in her late teens. "Her name's Gwen Stacy. Popped in while I was on one of my extracirricular patrols in Bludhaven." he explains. "She exists... existed on this Earth." He pushes a second file. And this one is of a Gwen Stacy that died on the GW Bridge a few months ago. "All signs point to her neck snapping in a fight between Green Goblin and Spider-Man when the former threw her off the bridge. Coroner can't determine if Goblin broke it beforehand or if Spider-Man did." he explains.

"Not that it was a winnable situation, if he hadn't caught her, she was going headfirst, hitting the river would have killed her. It was bad luck on the kid's part, if he did it. His web grabbed her at the ankle - broke it too. Her father's a police captain with the NYPD, been trying to figure out how to break it to him that his daughter is alive again. Even if it's cheating a little."

Then he gets to the crux of it all. "She's been staying with me since I found her. Sweet girl. But people start to wonder when a confirmed bachelor suddenly has a young woman that looks like she barely graduated high school living with him. She needs a place to stay and a chance to figure out what she wants to do. Not asking if you can put her up, but..."

"...the other option would be to put her in the Tower."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin listens attentively to Dick's story. She's a good listener; she nods at appropriate moments and responds with genuine sympathy at the tragedy for Spider-Man. When he proposes the options, Cait's eyes widen minutely in surprise.

"Uh... golly. I'd heard about that with Spider-Man. Everyone in the community says he's a really sweet person. It must have been hard from him. Losing her, I mean," she clarifies.

Hands rise and she tugs her ponytail between loose-curled fingers, stalling while she thinks of how to respond. "If you trust her, I can put her up at my place for a while," she offers. Still stalling. "I don't mind. I've got my new place in Queens and there's a guest room she can use."

A heavy exhalation makes shoulders rise and fall. "I haven't even been back to the Tower since... well, you know," she says, quietly. Subdued now. "I've had my condo for a year and I still keep thinking 'Guess I'll head home tonight' and I'm thinking of the island."

Finally, green eyes lift to meet Dick's in consternation. "Are... how about you? Are *you* ok going back there?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Thanks, Caitlin. If you need her to cover rent or expenses, I can advance you six months. If Bruce asks about it, I'll come up with something worthy. New girlfriend or something." Dick rolls his eyes and gives her a grin. Of course he probably knew Caitlin would offer and had prepared for that in advance. "I have her a couple of thousand to get clothes and stuff. I'll send a message to her so that she's not surprised by you."

Then she brings up the Island. He turns his attention from her, a look off into the distance. If there weren't taller buildings in the way, he could see the Tower from here. "I don't go by there anymore, Caitlin. It's not my place. It's Rae's thing now." he's accepted that in all of this. That what happened that day was his fault. He took it all. And just put it all away.

"But if you're chatting with any of them, I'd be more than happy to give you my blessings." There's a laugh, turning his attention back to his coffee and company. "I've been sticking to Bludhaven." Then he pauses, "That's a lie."

"I responded to the attacks on Genosha. I was on flight partol when the news came in." And he was there admist the fresh rubble, ruin, and death.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin rubs her bare arms uncomfortably and looks away. "Yeah. I heard about it on the news," she admits, quietly. Subdued. "I don't know how much help I can be. I don't even know how to get down there lately, and after..." She rubs a palm firmly against her jaw, pushing into it. "After what happened, I'm not sure how much help I am anymore. I remember pulling the... with the rubble, and..."

Her head hangs very slightly, as if shame. "It's a lot easier to just go punch the bad guys. Or go to work in the lab. Or the school. I wish I was more like you, Richard," she confesses, looking at the table still. "I just don't know if I've got it in me to do that kind of thing. And I feel bad saying it."

Dick Grayson has posed:
And the dead hero among the ruins. Dick remembers that day vividly. The scar on his shoulder where he couldn't dodge the full brunt of Doomsday's punch that shattered his shoulder and upper arm and left him with broken bones for months.

His hands reach and give hers a reaffirming squeeze. "I plan to talk to Babs tomorrow. I haven't seen her in a while. Want to make sure she's not all couped up."

He sighs, and shakes his head. "Trust me, Caitlin, I've thought about putting them away more than once. After the earthquake, I thought I was invincible. After ... I never felt lower. Now I'm just trying to find a normal ground. Something neutral. Something that will just feel right again."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin squeezes Dick's fingers back firmly, though she's careful not to hurt him. "Thanks, Richard, I appreciate it," she assures him. His firm reassurance does seem to put a bit of stiffness in her backbone and she sits upright out of her slump. "Look if you need me, you know I'm just a phone call away. I'm a bit of a fraidy-cat but I'm there for my friends, always."

She brightens a bit. "Hey, you know what'd be fun? Let's get together for a barbecue, like we used to. Maybe not at the Tower, but like... a beach somewhere? Get the old gang around, we haven't all been in one room together since the..." She clears her thoat.

"I'll make the food, of course. We can get Gar to drop in assuming his work schedule allows. I've got tons of sick days saved up from work. Nothing crazy, just like... I don't know. A run down to the Gulf or something. I'm sure we can pool funds and rent a private plane, I'm rated on those little Gulfstreams," she reminds him.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Maybe." Dick muses. He doesn't sound as confident as her. He remembers the looks. The anger. The shell-shock. He's not even sure if they would welcome him, truth be told. "If you want to take point on that, go for it. I know most of the guys would kill to see you in a swimsuit again." His comment is teasing, but there's no heat to it. It's as if he's making it on automatic pilot.

"I'll see if I can find the time off." He's a police detective. And he probably has a ton of time set up. But there's probably something holding him back.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's ears go pink and she sticks her tongue out at Dick. "Rude," she sniffs, but the compliment still provokes a smile. Even Cait's not wholly immune to the Grayson charm! "If you can't get any time off, at least swing by the school sometime?" she suggests. "You might like it. It's a charter school in Happy Harbor."

She glances around, leans forward conspiratorially. "I didn't tell you this, but there's supposedly some big meta population there. Like, way over the national average. A friend of a friend told me, which is why I volunteered there." Caitlin leans back, brows rising along with a slow nod. "Anyway, I'm teaching chemistry and physics, two days a week. It's fun! I mean, fun for me now. I hated high school. Maybe it was different for you, mister jock," she says with a teasing grin.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Happy Harbor?" he asks curiously. Dick makes a mental note of it to put on the radar for the Bats to look into. Tim might be old enough to look into it... and there he goes again. He shoots Caitlin a look. There's no heat it in though, she knew how to trigger his curiosity. "You know, I know you showed me pictures and keep telling me that you were a total nerd in school, but I can't possibly believe that a redhead didn't gardner any attention." he points out with a laugh, then shakes his head.

"I only did gymnastics. And that was only because of my last name. Things like basketball and football? Bats always said our training was an unfair advantage, but since I was an acrobat before he found me, I got away with it. That and I never went all out." he shrugs his shoulders. "Didn't think it was fair."

His hands settle around his coffee cup as he lifts his brow, "So is this picnic just for the gang, or them plus one?" he asks her, a hint of a tease in his voice as he probes a little further into her personal life.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin just snorts at Grayson's sally into her personal life. "Yeah, *that* hasn't changed any, don't worry," she says with a dry amusement. "No one wants to date someone who can step on their feet and break 'em during a dance. That doesn't leave me much options for a romantic life."

"Plus I'm just too busy," she says, waving Dick off and glancing out the window. "School part time, my day job at SI... I've been spending time with the Asgardians lately. Asgard? Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Diana even took me to Theymscira last year for a few days. Said I needed more time among a sisterhood. Best vacation of my life," she says with a small, happy sigh. "Nothing but blue skies and white beaches and just... working out and training. It felt so good to let all my troubles blow away."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Everyone needs to find their balance. I'm glad you found yours." Dick offers with warmth to the young woman. "But you and I both know Gar will ask anyway. And make puppy dog eyes -- probably as a puppy -- when he finds out you're single." It's the first time he's thought about Gar. Or anyone on the team in a while. And it shows. His relaxed posture is a little more tense. He's living that night somewhere in the back of his mind still.

"Careful with Diana, her armor covers lesss of you than your current suit does." he points out to her, but then he nods. "I'm glad you're finding out who you are. And who you want to be. Maybe I shouldn't bring you into this whole Gwen thing..." he finds himself admitting. "...with the whole chance to see the team again. I don't know if it would be fair to force you back into that lifestyle as a possibility." She has so much going for her.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"No. No!" Caitlin objects, and gives Dick's hand a quick and reassuring squeeze again. "It's OK. Honest. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," she points out. "The team isn't the problem. It never has been. Y'all... I mean, it's family," she says, with a self-effacing shrug. "I don't see my brother Alex as often as I like, but that doesn't mean I don't love him any less." A little Iowa accent in her voice there.

"Gwen sounds like she needs a safe place, and I've got spare room. And if she's someone you like, then she's a friend of mine too," Caitlin declares, with fearless blind loyalty for Dick's judgement in friends. "And if she's that young, then...." Caitlin winces a little. "Yeah, it doesn't look great if she's staying in your apartment. You don't want people to get the wrong idea. I promise she won't go hungry, anyway. /And/ I won't try to drag her to church on Sunday," she adds, mischeviously.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Caitlin may have forgotten about her strength in that moment, because Dick winces. "Owowowow." he manages, giving her a hint before he shakes out his hands with a laugh. "Okay, okay, I'll tell Gwen about you. I'll warn you though. You might be her type." he points out, remembering an earlier conversation.

"There is someone I'm kind of seeing." he finally manages. "Right now, it's the other guy seeing her, and she doesn't want me know who she really is, so. Awkward. Just a little." he starts to say more, but his phone beeps in a reminder as he reaches to pull it up. "Crap. I forgot I was pulling a shift tonight. Madatory overtime." he manages with a groan. "I'll send you Gwen's information, so you both have the heads up. I'll talk to you later!" he promises as he moves to get to his feet and comes over to give a quick... and for him, a much needed embrace.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin rises and moves to embrace Richard, and hugs him. "You look good, Richard. I'm glad to see things are going well for you." She sets him down and backs up half a pace, fingers interlacing in front of her. "I hope your, uh... whole..." Cait coughs. "Thing, with the girl, goes well." Her ears are turning pink again at his casual assails against her sense of propriety. Dirty pool!

"But scout's honor, I won't let Gwen get into any trouble," she promises Dick. "And trust me, I am *sure* I am not her type. I am not anyone's type. I am type-less," she admonishes. "So it'll work out just fine."

"Go, scoot to work. Oh--!" she hails him halfway to the door. "Let's get lunch next week? Your treat, Mr. Moneybags," she prompts him, and flashes a brilliant grin.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Next week. We'll see." Dick doesn't promise it. There's a lot of baggage he packed up, and he's not sure if he wants to unpack it yet. He does give her a smile though. Because in the end, he's still a leader, and he's going to put his best foot forward. And he's going to pretend it's all fine.

Because that dog was right. When the house is on fire, but you have your coffee? 'This is fine.' And with that, he's heading on his way out the terrace.