milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Steph's sitting in the rafters. Not, for once, out of any particular desire to Lurk; things are going well, lately. Just out of a vague feeling that if she doesn't spend some time up high in the shadows she'll go crazy.

Besides, she likes the rafters. They're quiet and warm and comfy - well, comfy compared to rooftops, at least - and you can see almost everything going on below.

You can take the girl out of Gotham...

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"Yeah, totally. Or maybe I just have a knack of pissing people off." She grins. It doesn't bother her that much.

"Seriously, what did you say to get him to set you on fire?"

"Just the usual, as far as I know!" Steph protests. "You know, hurt him and I'll hurt you, uh, I may have threatened torture, but who takes that stuff seriously? As if I'd torture anyone!"

"Y'know, just threatening to beat him up would've worked fine," Atton grins. "Maybe he didn't expect it," Blink. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever got a Long Ridiculously Threatening Monologue for years now."

"Well, he is this big general type, so being threatened by a five foot five teenager might not have sat so well with him," she admits, grinning. "But that's what the whole point of being a Robin is. We're bright and cheerful, so they never expect it when we kick ass."

"Yeah, generals don't take well to being threatened by short teenage girls," Atton laughs. "Damages their ego and then they have to go scream at people and it all gets very messy."

"Military types and their fragile egos." Steph grins. "You say that like you've got experience."

"I was in a war, a long, long time ago," Atton says, quietly, and with a slightly smaller grin, but relatively cheerful still. "And saying that makes me feel old and grey."

"Well, you are pretty old," Steph points out, with a hint of a smirk. "I mean, you're not as old as Indy, but you're still old."

"I'm only thirty!" Atton protests, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not old. I'm young and ... young-ish and stuff."

Steph nods sympathetically. "Old."

"I'm not old!"

Steph just laughs at him.

Man, guys are so touchy when they're getting older. Maybe it's an early onset of senility or something.

Atton sits and looks sulky at her, complete with accusing glares and occasionally 'hmph' noises.

"Hah. I win."

"Kriff you, I'm not old and that's the end of the matter."

"Yup. Okay. Sure."

She's very meek.

Don't trust it.

"You're very cruel," He grumbles. "For someone who seems so nice."

"I'm not cruel. I'm sweet and kind and cuddle kittens on a regular basis," Steph protests, grinning.

"Kittens of evil."

"Are there any other kinds?"

"I daresay there are."

"So, maybe I cuddle those instead, then," Steph says, triumphantly. "Anyway. You were gonna explain the other sorts of Big Long Monologue Of Doom to me, a few conversational train shifts back."

"Hm? Well, there's the 'get a grip or I'll beat you up' and the 'I'll beat you up in the name of truth, justice, beauty and light' ones, 'course."

"Are they different?"