milliways_bar | tim drake inna dress.

There was a new girl in the bar. She looked mildly surprised to find herself there, but more or less stared at the location that she had turned out in. From her style of dress that consisted of a nice red dress that came down past her knees, revealing smooth legs and high-heeled shoes, not to mention how tidy her straight chestnut hair was as it brushed against her mid-back was, it could be guessed that she had come from some sort of party or function.

Bright green eyes lined neatly with eyeliner and touched up with eyeshadow eyed the surroundings warily, her cherry red lips tightening in a line. She was actually quite the looker when it came down to it, but she looked mildly irritated at the moment.

You couldn't blame her, though. That was because of one primary reason -- she was actually a boy.

Tim Drake, to be exact, or better known as Robin, formidable sidekick to the Dark Knight.

So why was he in such a get up? He had been asked by Bruce to be his date for a function because he would rather not make the effort of finding a complete stranger to go with. And it seemed that Cassandra had been busy for the night.

A sigh escaped those painted lips. He was never doing this ever again.

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"Not a whore," Tim said with a vague hum, enjoying this situation. It was actually kinda fun, like a game.

Dick waves that off with a hand. "Half his dates wear it cut higher." He smirks at Tim's legs. "Attention to detail is good..."

Now Tim had to roll his eyes at that one. "Yeah, I learned from the best."

"You make it sound like I gave you lessons in it or something." Hey, Dick had no shame about it. It had been necessary. "And you didn't wimp out on the heels. That's good."

"After the lessons Babs gave me? Please." He couldn't call himself an expert, but he could still stand to walk around in them for a night.

"I always wished I could skip them. They're not the most enjoyable things." And Dick is probably letting on that he's had to do this far more than he'd ever admit. Oops.

But Tim totally caught him on that one. No escaping now!

"So you do admit you've done it before." No, that was not a maniac gleam in his eye.

...oops.

"Maybe just once or twice," Dick says smoothly. "But who hasn't?"

"Just one or twice, huh? Yeah, right." Tim knew better than that. That much was obvious, though. "And I think most of the population of our occupation has not."

"And most of the population doesn't work for you-know-who," Dick points out. "The man who just enjoys thinking of the -special- undercover assignments for his young partners."

"Actually, I think it's only us." 'Cause, you know. Cass wasn't exactly undercover material, and Babs...was Babs. It seemed that Batman knew better than to make his girls suffer. So he and Dick suffered instead.

Oh, that was comforting. "Makes you wonder what -other- deep hidden trauma he has that makes him inflict -that- on us."

"Oh, ew." Tim certainly did not want to go there. At all. Ever. "Excuse me as I go wash out my brain with a steel sponge!"

Dick smirks. "What, you're not curious at all?"

Yes, this is his way of getting revenge, why do you ask?

"No, no, and let me see...no." Yeah, Tim was definitely Not Going There. "You go ask him, if you're so curious."

"That'd work well, if I wasn't across the country," Dick points out. And besides, he really doesn't want to know at all. Ever ever -ever-. "You can be my messanger."

"Um, no." He wasn't suicidal, after all. "There's a thing called modern technology, you know. Call him, comm him, email him?"

Dick feigns ignorance. "I think I've forgotten how."

Psh.

"Liar. Liaaar." So he sounded a bit immature. So what?

"Pants on fire?" Dick finishes for him.

"More like tights. Or lack of them," he told Dick, snickering as he thought of the Robin pant-thingies.

"Oh, you mean the look you were too chicken to wear?"

"I was not too chicken. I wore them, remember? When I saved your sorry butt?" Ah, the old days. The beginning days. "Oh, wait. That doesn't specify much, does it?" He said cheekily.

Dick makes a face at him. "And I've returned the favour many times, you brat."

"Details, details," Tim said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But man, if your old man-cleavage outfit could have been set in fire..."

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