Owner	Pose
Roy Harper	Roy has been having...a shit week. Earlier this evening he was pacing the streets of Gotham. He must have walked past the same bar so many times they probably thought he was casing the joint. But no, he was doing everything in his limited power to talk himself out of going in there and drinking his night way. Yeah he's 19 and looks 16, but he has a pocket full of cash and this is Gotham. Finally, though, he got out his phone and texted Helena: "Rough night, can we meet at Scoops? I could really use a milkshake and a friendly face right now." Since she agreed, Roy got on his motorcycle and headed in that direction. He walks through the front door, tugging off his helmet, and looks around.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne is out on patrol, or at least she was until she got that familiar text. <Sure thing. Gimme 20?> It'll be one of her quicker change-overs, especially considering that she'll just be doing a costume mod. Hitting the throttle, she downshifts and accelerates like a cafe racer. Park the bike in the alley, pick the lock on the back entrance, then barricade the ladies room door. In exactly 19 minutes, Helena Wayne emerges from the back. Sure, her hair is windblown and she's still wearing the purple lipstick. The bodysuit could be a bike suit, without the cape and cowl, and she keeps a helmet tucked under her arm for good measure. Making eye contact with Roy, she smiles and gestures towards their usual booth in the back.
Roy Harper	Looking Helena up and down with...wait, is that a look of appreciation?...Roy smiles and ducks into the booth. And like a true gentlemen, he leaves the seat with its back to the wall for Helena. "Hey," he says. "Glad you could make it. I really needed some company tonight." He tugs open one of the menus. "You eating?" he asks. Roy seems almost nervous for some reason. One foot is uncharacteristically tap-tap-tapping on the floor.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne tilts her head, a dark brow lifting. She gives that windblown hair a toss, purple lips pulling into a wry smile. Did she notice the look? Damn right she did. "Well you know, I was sorta in the neighborhood and had a craving for ice cream..." she lies. The dark-haired woman eases into the seat, and as she does her gaze flickers as well. His mannerisms, the tapping of his foot. Her expression relaxes, as if trying to spread some of her own composure. In a lower voice, she replies. "That's what I'm here for, Roy. As long as you need me."
Roy Harper	"I walked back and forth in front of this bar tonight so many time I can't believe they didn't call the cops. All I wanted to do was go in there and drink, and I didn't know how to get out of it. I was literally trapped," he says, then his gaze shifts up to Helena. "Then I thought about you. We haven't talked in so long." A server comes by to take an order but Roy asks for a few more minutes. "Arsenal left the Outsiders and the Titans," he says softly.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne keeps eye contact all the while, lacing her fingers together while he talks. Part of her job in all this is to listen, and she knows it. A good indication that she's taking this seriously comes with her response. No, she doesn't threaten to shoot him if he gets that close to the edge again. Her voice remains soft when she replies. "Then I'm glad you called..." she begins, then Helena processes his next words. She looks surprised. "I... Teams are important. Not being alone is important." Pause. "What is Arsenal going to do now?"
Roy Harper	Taking in a long, deep breath and then exhaling it slowly, Roy shakes his head. "He's getting to know some new friends in the government. SHIELD. I don't know if I will stick around but I'm checking it out, seeing if I'm a fit." He fiddles idly with the corner of the menu between his fingers. He's putting on a brave look, but there's a sadness there. "Hey, whad'ya say we get some milkshakes?" he blurts out, grinning broadly. "I can't get a peanut butter pretzel salted caramel shake out of my head for the life of me." He flips the menu around and slides it in front of Helena. "Please?" He flashes one of those patented, weaponized Roy Harper perfect smiles.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne nose-wrinkles at that, but her expression shows amusement. "Government?" That upper lip twitches, even. "Sorry for suppressing a giggle, but you don't really seem like the secret agent type." She shrugs, then. "Not that you would look bad in a designer suit. Or an Astin Martin..." When he pushes the menu over in front of her, Helena leans in a little and all sarcasm fades. Blinking slowly, her smile softens and she nods once. "You've definitely got the smile for it."
Roy Harper	"I just want to be part of something bigger than myself," Roy explains. His hand seems to twitch for a moment, like he was about to do something with it but changed his mind. More foot tapping. "I mean, look at me, back in Gotham one night and I come within an inch of getting drunk. There are so many ghosts here. So many problems that I solved with violence without ever once asking what the cost of that is." He shakes heads. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be dumping this shit on you."
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne nods slowly in agreement. "Addiction is fed by loneliness, Roy." she replies softly. Her gaze flickers when his hand makes that little twitch. And when he shakes his head she reaches out to take that hand between hers. Her palms are sweaty, hands warm from the leather gloves she wears for fighting. "Actually, I seem to recall telling you that you -can- dump this shit on me." Helena replies evenly. The humor returns, then. "So were you really thinking about me, or was it mostly the peanut butter pretzel salted caramel shake? Don't hide the truth to be kind to me, either."
Roy Harper	Roy accepts Helena's hand and holds it. He laughs lightheartedly at the joke -- there he is, our Roy is slowly coming back. "Well you are an amazing friend and very beautiful," he says, closing his eyes sagely. "But Helena, my God, we're talking about peanut butter pretzel salted caramel here. Let's all just, you know, stay in our lane here." He opens his eyes and broadly smiles again, green eyes alight. Does he know...does he know how cute he is when he smiles? Or is it just instinct? Hard to say.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne's lashes start to lower at the compliment, those purple lips pulling into one of her more genuine smiles. Does her head tilt? Is she leaning in a bit more, perhaps? Then he brings the peanut butter concoction back into the conversation and her smile becomes more knowing. Deep breath. Exaggerated sigh. "Ah well! Story of my life. Always the Moneypenny, never the Bond-girl." She chuckles, but doesn't let go of his hand.
Roy Harper	Roy gives Helena's hand a squeeze and takes in a deep breath. He shifts in his seat a bit, almost like a schoolboy fidget. Finally he glances up at Helena. "Hey...d'you..." He laughs nervously. "This used to be easier for me." He glances down at the table, ears a bit red. "Do you wanna get out of here?"
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne tilts her head, upper lip twitching again when he squeezes her hand. No, she's not going to make this part any easier for him. Not after the milkshake crack. Meeting his gaze, those purple lips draw into a playful smile before she answers. "Only if I drive." she replies. "After all, I'm not the one hopped up on peanut butter..."