Owner	Pose
Tim Drake	They do end up watching TRON. After the order arrives from the Burrito Bandits, Gotham's first (and only) roaming, Wild-West themed Mexican food truck. And with the Outsiders nothing can ever be simple: Gabby gets her chicken burritos, and Megan her chimichanga, and then upon the call for an open lunch order goes out suddenly the bill charged to Tim's account skyrockets well into the triple digits, and why did he expect otherwise?     While the credits roll, he pushes himself up on the couch and mutters something about cleaning up the mess to make his escape. He still has that nebulous dinner date to attend at some point in the future, but who knows precisely when. There'd been no further devulging of details from Tim when asked about it.     As he circles around the couch, footsteps purposefully heavy, he taps Gabby on the shoulder. "Mind helping me in the kitchen?" Though he doesn't wait to see if she'll follow or not. It's not exactly a subtle invitation to step away from the group for a talk.     Which is not to say there isn't a mess in the kitchen. There is. With this group there always is. Discarded balls of scrunched up foil, several oily paper bags of leftovers, half-empty containers of agua fresca, all those teeny little cups of the Burrito Bandit's signature "A Fistful of Habaneros" hot sauce, chip crumbs, etc... the spilled guacamole is a particularly ghastly discovery, though guac goes bad so fast anyway. For a moment or two Tim just stands there surveying the chaos before he pushes up the sleeves of his hoodie with a sigh and gets to work.
Gabby Kinney	Gabby Kinney had started to doze a bit as she often did after sitting for so long in one place. The movie was good, though she had constantly checked her phone throughout. No doubt she was about to get an earful about movie-night etiquette or something. Right? Right. Either way she gives a quick nod before bounding to her feet to follow after Tim. The sight of the kitchen does get a little "Yuck," from her as she surveys the carnage. Still, it would go quicker working at it rather than complaining. The trashcan is grabbed to start sweeping crumpled wrappers and sauce packets into it to get rid of the immediate throw away mess. "So Conner was wearing a suit like that when you guys met him? I guess it could be worse, at least it's like, classic colors and all. Did it have the glowy stripe?"
Tim Drake	Tim's first task is figuring out what all needs to go into the fridge, because leftovers are worth their weight in gold around the Roost. With how much the team eats, their food wastage is almost zero. And Tim would like to keep it that way.     "Yep. It was a full LED glowing monstrosity," Tim answers as he stands at the fridge, propping its door open with his back as he rearranges cans of soda and Lunchables (he's honestly still not sure who eats those, but they keep disappearing so Tim keeps restocking them) to make room. "About as stealthy as a billboard in Times Square."     That task done, he brandishes a permanent marker menacingly as he considers the pile of leftovers, and then spends the next few moments labeling everything. Chicken, beef, black bean (with a V for his and Phoebe's awareness), no cilantro (for the folks with that soap gene). He's still marking things when he asks, "Is everything okay?" without looking up.     He pushes the cap back on the marker with a quiet but satisfying click, and now it's time to start actually putting things away. The chimichanga containers provide a strong foundation for the pyramid of wrapped burritos Tim begins to assemble inside the fridge. "I heard you talking on the phone, earlier. I didn't mean to eavesdrop--."     And here he does actually look over to Gabby, if only to flash her a small but apologetic smile. Of course Tim meant to eavesdrop. He's a detective. It's what he does. "I was just worried, that's all."
Gabby Kinney	"Oh wow. LED... Yeah that's not really attempting to be stealthy at all. At least the labs I was from got us tactical gear..." Her words trail off as she stops in her clean up of the trash to stare at an empty spot on the counter. It's Tim's question that has her pausing, considering quietly how to respond if at all. Her head is hung down a little with the bag of trash held tight in one hand by her side. When he flashes the smile her way actually looking at her, there's no doubt in her expression that she's not okay in the least. She looks TIRED. Her lower lip trembles a little as she tries to hold back emotions she'd been trying to ignore for awhile, and her eyes start to get a bit damp from withheld tears. "No," she finally admits reaching up to swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. "My sister... Bellona... the human one. She was staying at a safehouse in New York and I've check all our stashes and hideouts and I can't find her or get ahold of her and I haven't been able to find her listed on any of the refugee lists or...." The torent of words that fall from her lips start to hesitate as she's forced to actually take a few quick breaths trying to get herself under control again. "I called in a few favors with Catman and his crew to help look. They knew her a bit."
Tim Drake	Even though Tim had asked with the expectation--or maybe just the hope--of getting an actual answer, he feels a little flat-footed to see Gabby so affected. Standing there at the fridge, his weight shifts uneasily back and forth as he puts the last few burritos away for some hungry Outsider to consume later.     Then the fridge door closes, and Tim approaches, still deliberate in making a normal amount of noise rather than his usual skulking about. It's with significant care that he slowly reaches out to rest a hand on Gabby's shoulder, to give her plenty of time to pull away if she'd rather he not.     "We're still pretty dialed in to surveillance up in New York," he says. It wasn't just he and Phoebe that were noticeably absent from the Roost and Gotham proper during the angelic invasion in Manhattan; the Dark Knight himself temporarily relocated, too. "We can help look for her."     Tim steps back after, to give Gabby her space. He surveys the lay of the land, so to speak, and then goes to wet a dishrag to start dealing with the mess. Over the sound of running water, he adds, "I'll look into the Wayne Foundation's records from the refugee camps, too. Maybe I can find something."
Gabby Kinney	"Thanks." Gabby offers up a smile of her own attempting to be as reassuring to him as he was attempting to be to her. That's usually what she did after all, though lately she hadn't needed to so often. In this case she was a bit upset though. When he moves back to the fridge she turns her attention back to finishing off the trash so the bag can be deposited back in the trash can. "There's other things that could cause her to dissapear too. The nanomachines they put in us killed all our other sisters. We were the last two... they might have caught up to her." She pauses here, again, before punching the bag down into the can a few times more than necessary. Only then was she satisfied to move over to the sink herself to grab a sponge. "It kept getting put off, going back to the labs to get the information on them. It might be time to do that. There may be a way to locate her with that information, too, maybe. I know they were trying to find a way to keep track of us but I don't know if they ever developed anything." "Just horrible timing. I know you're all busy and I understand why. Just for one person to be...y'know." Lightly she clears her throat. "I'll give you the information I had on her beforehand. And as best a picture as I can. I can photoshop myself to look more like her."
Tim Drake	The thanks gets a silent nod from Tim in reply as he begins to scrub at the partially dried smear of guacamole on the counter. "I don't know what I was expecting when I agreed to house a bunch of teenaged superheroes," he says, nose wrinkled.     But here he is, cleaning up gross food messes. In contrast, Tim's private apartment--the public-facing part of the building that he lives in--is kept pristine.     Though that's mostly because he's hardly ever there. Though there is now more than one occupant.     "You know how our lives are, Gabby. There's never really good timing for anything." Tim returns to the sink, running the water again. "That's no excuse, though. When things are important, we make the time." And once he's washed his hands, very thoroughly, he walks back over to Gabby again. "This is important. Send me that info, we'll get a mission plan together and head out ASAP."
Gabby Kinney	"At least we kinda clean up after ourselves?" Gabby offers by way of looking on the bright side in regards to housing teens. Then again Tim wasn't much older to begin with himself. When he steps over reassuring her that he'd help, she relaxes a bit more with a smile of relief. Which is how Tim ends up in a slightly soggy hug as she wraps her arms around him to give him a good, solid squeeze. "Thanks, Tim. For understanding and helping and... I'll get everything together ASAP. See if anyone else wants to help too I guess." Releasing him she adds, "And I can help out with the refugee stuff, too, if you need. I know you and Pheebs have been wearing yourselves out with that. It's been decently quiet on the criminal side of things for now."
Tim Drake	For a second or two, the corners of Tim's mouth twitch as he fights back a smile. "Kinda," he agrees. And admittedly the hug that Tim gives Gabby right back is a little bit soggy too, but it's okay.     "Of course. We'll find her, Gabby. All of us looking for her? No way we won't." He resumes drying his hands once they've pulled apart, and he turns to survey the kitchen now that it has been mostly put back to rights. "The Foundation's handling most of that, now. It's just a lot of administrative stuff--working with different organizations to get people settled back in their homes. Mostly New York agencies." Tim smiles, distractedly. "Phoebe and I are okay. Being back home, that's what we both needed."
Gabby Kinney	"I hope so." Gabby grins again toward Tim, reaching out to ruffle his hair if he lets her. If not, well, she'll give up after a moment of teasingly trying. "Glad you're back, too, you know. In case I hadn't said that before now. You guys are like family, you know? So I want to help too when I can." It's about now her phone goes off causing her attention to jerk away with a slightly guilty glance. "Ah... I should take that. Thanks again, Tim. I'll let you know if anything turns up or... I mean. Thanks." And with that she scoots out accidentally leaving him with the rest of the dishes.
Tim Drake	Tim obligingly dips his head down a little to allow for the ruffling. "Me too, Gabby," is all he says, and he stands in the kitchen for a little while longer after she's left, hands in his pocket. Then he takes a slow inhale of breath and turns to address the dishes in the sink.     "Uggggggh."