On the Rocks

[Dick Grayson]

Dick did not want to be there. He also didn't like combing his hair, putting on suits, and pretending he gave a shit about the likes of Bruce Wayne. It was just an absolute lost cause. That rich buttmunch was walking trouble. There was just something familiar and unwelcome about Bruce that irked him (and consequently Nightwing) to no end. His ice colored eyes rolled upwards to the ceiling of the flat that was bigger than the first floor of his apartment building. His bitterness didn't spell out on his features. Instead he kept looking as pleasant as ever as he mingled and circled the perimeter while feeling as if he were dressed like a performing monkey that just so happened to have a gun in his jacket.

Susanna made him come. There was a promotion he didn't want in it for him as well. If there was anything that the PD's shrinks came up with in Officer Grayson's file, it was a fear of success. His seamless ability for filing and paperwork seemed to have cemented him a spot in this stupid assignment. He had faced it the moment Detective Gossamer bullied him into something that was high profile. It would result in a mountain of paperwork. One perk was that Susanna would have to dress up along with some of the other broads in the station. As in wear dresses. As in Dick brought a camera for purposes of hanging in the station.

He made sure his limp was subtly present as he walked. He couldn’t have the same confidant (and slightly bad ass if he did say so himself) gate as Nightwing. Especially if something were to actually happen tonight. Even if it meant Wayne’s life, he wouldn’t blow his cover. Not while he had his own unfinished agenda that required the cowl of Nightwing in order to complete it. Upon finishing his fourth sweep of the party’s perimeter, he finally headed to the bar. He did like the idea of an open bar while detesting that he couldn’t drink on the job. He ordered a Sprite and settled himself to watch people from a safe, snob-free, and enjoyable distance. His ocean spray gaze kept an eye on where the vigilante in him had picked out as an entrance point to watch for.

[Mary-Lou White]

In what was perhaps a complete juxtaposition, Mary-Lou White had been counting down the days until Mr Bruce Wayne’s birthday soiree like it was Christmas come early. She had scoured the city high and low for that perfect dress which was just the right mixture of prissy princess to suit her looks and then accessorized accordingly. She had booked herself hair, make-up and beautician appointments respectively and set pretty pink reminders in her pretty pink laptop. In short, she had barely been able to contain her excitement about the upcoming party job, and had been totally unable to shut up about it since it was mentioned to her by her cousin. She was almost murdered by several fellow cops the day before the party and left the office much to their relief (and to the benefit of her health).

The day of the party dawned with a sour taste in its mouth. The skies over Gotham were gray and brooding, but Mary-Lou was the type of girl who constantly looked for the silver lining. She meticulously kept all of her appointments and made it back to her apartment in time to relax on the couch for half an hour (and call her friend back home who squee’d right along with her about the party) before she got dressed, grabbed her clutch purse and then caught a cab to Wayne Tower. The imposing façade of the building did nothing to dampen her party mood, and the tastefully flared hem of her floor-length gown flirted with the marble tiles as she was ushered across the grand foyer to the building and into the elevator. She had mingled, chatted and nibbled through the better part of the evening, all while unobtrusively gaping glancing at Mr Wayne. With a champagne glass in hand, Mary-Lou eventually came across Dick Grayson, one of her own.

“Oh, hey Dick!” she chirped, greeting him in the innocent bird-like manner that would have seemed overbearing on anyone not possessing her sweet nature. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Mary-Lou had always thought Dick was a nice guy, if a little grumpy. Unfortunately for the poor fellow grumpiness in others only served to make Mary-Lou more persistent in drawing them out of her shell. She flashed him one of her traffic-stopping smiles, the dimples in her cheeks piercing the expression slightly before she parked her backside on a high stool by his side. Her dress was perfect and her shoes were to die for, which might very well be why her feet were screaming bloody murder.

[Dick Grayson]

Dick nearly jumped when he heard Mary-Lou’s pleasant greeting. How she could be related to Detective Gossamer was always beyond him. Someone so friggin’ painfully sweet just couldn’t share a chromosome with Susanna. He verbalized it constantly in the office as a joke but firmly believed that one of them was the product of the milk man or one was switched with either a sickeningly sweet or perpetually cranky baby. He turned around and found his blonde co-worker to look even cuter than usual.

God save the Gotham PD.

Dick managed a grin when he came in contact with one of his own that didn’t resort to calling him Gimpy Grayson or pulling some other stupid crap that annoyed the cop. He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his Sprite. “Eh… I guess so,” he replied with slight smile. He looked around the scene again before finding Mary-Lou’s smile again. “Just been waiting for someone to bust out some balloon animals then it’s a real party,” he took another long sip of his drink as he tried not to provide a laugh with his slight sarcastic quip.

He put the finished glass back on the table and turned to the bar tender and nodded at Mary-Lou’s flute of champagne. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he ordered before turning his attention back to the detective. “So you’ve been mingling a bit. Any hot sugar momma’s I can sweep off their feet? I’ve got me some bills to pay.”

[Mary-Lou White]

Happy to return his smile and enjoy his company for the time being, Mary-Lou giggled encouragingly at his quip and refrained from sipping for the moment in case he made another. Most of their colleagues seemed to avoid Dick for some unknown reason. Mary-Lou had always rather liked him, but then she liked just about everybody. Of course, she didn’t notice that most of the folk at Gotham PD avoided her too (unless it were guys asking her to get them donuts, cups of coffee, or out to dinner). She managed to overlook their chauvinistic ways in order to do her job – or what she construed as her job. Therefore, chatting with someone who wasn’t afraid to treat her like a normal person was a more than welcome change from the usual.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, a hint of disapproval in her tone which her bright smile automatically leeched of credit. She looked around the room, noticing the people dressed richly and the pinnacle of it all; Bruce Wayne. As her blue eyes fell onto everyone’s supposedly favourite millionaire, they opened wider and wider. Wait – was that – Susanna? “Oh my stars,” she breathed into her flute, flabbergasted. “Isn’t that Susie dancing with Bruce Wayne?”

[Dick Grayson]

Dick caught the disapproval that came from his joke and couldn’t help but grin even more. At least someone liked his odd company. Upon finishing off his sprite he gratefully took his flute of champagne. He took a brief moment to sample the drink; never one for chugging booze unless it was a cold beer. The blond was always one of Dick’s favorite people in the precinct. She seemed unaffected by the absolutely fucked up politics of the city and unmoved by the constant shit-storm that was Gotham City at its best of days. There was just something in Mary-Lou that made Dick find the city just a bit less of a dark place to be.

Officer Grayson had only snagged a few shots with his camera for the evening. So his playful teasing of his co-workers had not proven to be too successful. Mainly it had been absolutely useless. But now that Mary-Lou had just given him the leverage of the century?

Jackpot.

Dick’s eyes snapped to where Mary-Lou had indicated. No. Fucking. Way. His jaw dropped momentarily as he pulled his small camera from this jacket and he managed to quickly snap a few pictures. He checked the small screen. “Nice,” he said with a nod of approval. He then aimed the camera at Mary-Lou’ secretly complimenting the blonde in his own weird way. “Say cheese.”

[Mary-Lou White]

Even though the majority of the people she spoke to at work considered him a grouch and even though most of them avoided him and vice versa, Mary-Lou couldn’t help but think that Dick Grayson was definitely kinda cute, especially when he smiled. She encouraged him in smiling and joking whenever she could, believing within herself that he must simply be one of those shy types who found it awkward to his a social groove but that once they had, were an absolute asset to any circle of friends. She was happy to spend time with him both inside work and out, and generally found him to be a witty and intelligent man, if even a little too sarcastic for her tastes.

She frowned when he took out a tiny camera and began snapping away pictures of Susie and Bruce dancing. If there was one thing that Mary-Lou was fiercely protective of it was her family. Being raised up in a small town meant that family was all you had when times got rough, and even though she felt at times that she was a bit of a burden on her much cooler cousin Mary-Lou wasn’t the sort to let her get taken advantage of. Before she had time to react, however, Dick had also pressed the button in her face. The flash went off in her face before she had time to pose properly, and she groaned inwardly to think of Dick looking at some weird half grimace-grin hybrid over his morning coffee. “Delete!” she said immediately, playfully reaching out and taking Dick’s camera from him before he could protest.

She deftly worked her way into the camera’s library and not only erased the predictably hideous shot of herself, but the two Dick had snapped of Susie and Bruce as well. Smiling at her colleague winsomely, she handed the camera back to him and quickly moved back a couple paces before she nodded. “Okay, take a good one!” She posed, her dimples out in full force, before she realised she hadn’t fixed her hair. “Wait!” she yelped, holding up one hand while she raised the other to primp. After about ten seconds of eternity, she posed again. “Okay... go!” At length the flash went off again, and she laughed lightly, amused that she still found it fun to have her picture taken (when she was prepared kthnx). She closed the gap between Dick and herself and made to look over his shoulder at the picture, but just as she leaned in a piercing scream sliced through the part atmosphere like a scalpel.

“Ohmigosh,” she breathed instantly, grabbing Dick by the arm as other screams followed like an echo and bedlam seemed to break out in the direction of the balcony. People were rushing from around them to the doors that opened onto the terrace while others, their faces ashen and panic-filled attempted to push their way back into the apartment. “Come on,” she told him, even though she would have expected him to follow regardless. She reached for the microphone that she had pinned to the neckline of her dress, holding it closer to her lips as she moved through the crowd. “We have a situation in Zone 4,” she said into the mike calmy. “I repeat, Zone 4. Requesting immediate backup. And get a recovery crew on the ground.”

[Dick Grayson]

Well, so much for a pleasant turn to the evening.

Dick’s brow arched as his camera had been confiscated and the past three pictures had been erased. Shame. He knew that the first two would have at least proven to be useful in at least getting some sort of leverage in regards to Gossamer and her somewhat terrifying front. But alas, a cute blonde sashayed through the library and took away the “or else” of any offer he could make to the detective. Regardless the officer smiled and even laughed when Mary-Lou stopped to primp her hair. Honestly, it was actually somewhat peaceful for a moment and Dick was honestly appreciating the efforts this blonde made in regards to befriending him. Just as they were inspecting the recent photo-session, there was the familiar yells that haunted Dick from the moment he was a kid and he watched his parents plummet. Terror.

His attention snapped to the situation as he watched people rush in. He forgot the front of a gimpy slacker and followed the blonde’s lead until the point where he was weaving along side her. The mic on his wrist, which had provided to be a bit of a burden of weight finally proved itself useful other than saying ridiculous codes in them for his own amusement. “I need officers at the exits to keep the guests under control while being escorted down the stairs. Do not use the elevator. We need to be sure everyone gets out safely,” he instructed the officers that seemed to still be in shock; stepping into the role of public servant as if he were born for it. His eyes narrowed as they came to the balcony; his limp all but forgotten as he set about the oath he’d taken along with the others that had a badge hidden in the depths of their nice getups.

Protect and serve.

It was then that Nightwing practically snarled in the back of his mind about maintaining cover and Dick pushed it aside. As he watched Gossamer and Batman rush by and up, Dick looked back at the crowd of people rushing the door. “I’ll help out with evacuations and get a medic up here,” he informed as he started to run back; remembering the limp this time. “Make sure no one comes back to finish the job.” Like that he was off to work getting the civilians out of there. Oddly enough, doing the right thing was a lot easier than Dick Grayson ever thought.