alwaysroomforhope | Suite 138: Steph attempts to sneak out.

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Suite 138: Steph attempts to sneak out.

It's nearly 3am. And Steph can't sleep.

And she can't do anything else, either, because there's a stupid brother camped out on her couch, and he's locked the windows somehow, and -

- wait, his breathing's steady and regular. That means he's sleeping, right? And he can't have locked the door, because Ed needs to use that too. Even if he shouldn't be either.

She slips out of bed silently and slides her feet into her Robin boots - best for sneaking. Pyjamas'll have to do for the rest, though - her wardrobe doors squeak sometimes.

And she's just a shadow, as she glides through the main room towards the front door, one ear cocked towards the figure on the couch.

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Dick doesn't stir, for the moment. Maybe he is, actually, sleeping. Or maybe he's just lying in wait.

Well ... he's gotta sleep sometime. He's been shadowing her nonstop for, like, all day.

She edges past the bookshelf, and freezes as the rustle of her pyjama top brushing the wood reaches her ears - TOO LOUD - did he notice?

He stirs a bit, but otherwise doesn't say anything.

If he noticed? He's doing a good job of pretending otherwise.

Okay. Okay. Breathe, Steph. Still safe. Okay.

Three more noiseless footsteps, and her hand's on the door-handle.

She'll find the door is unable to be unopened. Well, without disarming at least three or four locks, anyway - not that she has the time for it.

"Nice try," he says, without even opening his eyes. "But why don't you go on back to bed now?"

"You suck, Dick."

"Yeah," he says, with a dismissive gesture. "I don't doubt it. But you have one week left."

Which means he isn't letting her out yet.

She thumps a fist on the door.

"This is totally not fair, you know! You're so overreacting."

If he was, would he ever admit it?

"Why don't you try that defense when you're not trying to sneak out every five minutes?"

"Why don't you let me out and admit you're wrong?"

Stupid Bat-types. She leans against the door, folding her arms.

"That would require me being wrong."

See? Stubborn.

Hmm. Tactic Abuse isn't working. Time for a new plan.

She drops to her hands, forwards, and pushes off the ground, somersaulting in the air and landing on the edge of the couch.

"You taught me that! You're a great brother, Dick."

What, sucking up? NAAAAHH. She readjusts her pyjamas and settles into a casual crouch on the edge there, grinning at him.

"Good to see you've been learning."

Apparently he can't be sucked up to. Or at least not that easily.

There really is a bug up his butt, isn't there?

"Not much else to do but train."

Since SOMEONE'S forbidden her to see Billy.

Or, uh. Zuko.

Not that that's stopped her, but as that particular slowtime hasn't been finished, it's uncertain as to whether she knows about it at this point, and thus the mun calls for strategically applied Millitime blinders, and ... ANYWAY.

"So I've been practicing. Because you'd be disappointed in me if I didn't. Totally."

A smile that'd be way too bright for 3am ... if they weren't Bats.

"You can still see your friends, you know," he feels the need to point out, but. Curiousity is easy to follow with, afterwards. "Training with anything new?"

"Not unless you count the meditation thing," Steph says. "I'm supposed to be learning how to keep my temper so I don't end up in cell again."

A beat, and she realises that might've been a misstep.

"Uh, you did know about that already, right?"

"Yes, I knew about that."

And since she's making efforts to have it not happen again, he won't say anything about it. She's already learned her lesson.

"Controlling your temper is one of the best tools you can have." He's... really one to talk. "Once you learn it, don't lose it."

"Yes, Dick."

She's suspiciously meek.

"So. Since we, er, haven't been talking..."

- that translates more accurately as Steph has been refusing to SPEAK to Dick, of course -

"...and we are now, right, what's going on in your life? Update me!"

Dick gives her a suspicious look.

Maybe it's a bit shifty, as well. You might have to remind him of a certian promise to get him to talk, Steph.

"Just everyday things."

Steph shifts off the arm of the couch and onto the seat, wriggling to get comfortable with callous disregard for Dick's leg-space. Sorry, Dick. Did you want those feet?

"You promised me you'd tell me the whole truth about everything if I told you," she reminds him, brightly. "And I did, didn't I? So. Your turn."

She's lucky he isn't wearing the brace right now. Might make things a bit uncomfortable.

And at that? He visibly blanches. "I did, didn't I?"

That was... just great.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, what do you want to know?"

"What do you need to tell?"

Note the use of the word need there. It was rather pointed.

"I don't need to tell anything."

...this may be harder than it should be. Dick may be pulling more of a Bruce than he would like, which equals out to? Nothing needs to be told. It can be all be dealt with just fine in his very own head.

Why share it?

Steph just looks at him.

That move is not supposed to work when it's turned you!

"What?" he asks, shiftily.

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