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Inked The Hell Up

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They’re walking along the street when Cassie nods at a woman, her mouth turned down. “Sad.”

Dinah glances up from her phone, cause Roy’s having yet another crisis. “Huh?”

She nods at the woman again. “Sad.”

“Why?” Cassie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a mind reader.”
Dinah strolls up to the woman, who’s solid and dark haired. There’s a long scar between her eyebrows. “Hey there. Are you alright?”

The woman jumps, turning with a forced smile. “Excuse me?” “Are you alright, miss?”

The woman dissolves into sobs, and Dinah pulls her into an alley. “It’s my husband. The Mob has him!”

Cassie gives her a smug little grin. “Sad.”

An investigation, a rescue, and one stray bullet later, the woman is reunited with her husband and Dinah’s taking a bullet out of Cassie’s thigh.
Cassie’s fingers dig into her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, honey, it’ll be fine, just a bullet wound,” Dinah mutters, blood slicking her fingers. The bullet narrowly missed a fish tattoo, passed right above the night sky on her inner thigh.
She finally digs the bullet out and cauterizes the wound, Cassie not making a sound. The room smells of burned flesh and blood. “That was intense,” Dinah says, trying for cheerfulness. Cassie gives her a look. “Okay, yeah. I’m sorry. Do you need anything? You’re gonna be off your feet for a while.” Cassie groans.

Cassie sits up in bed, glaring at the TV. Her fingers tap against her uninjured thigh. There’s an untouched bottle of water on the bedside table. “It’s Firefly, Cassie. Everyone likes Firefly.” She gets a noncommittal shrug. “You’re so difficult to impress.”

Cassie looks her up and down, smirks. “You. Impressive.”

Dinah laughs and joins her on the bed, steals sips of her water. “Thank you.”
Cassie gets a fever. Of course she gets a fever. Batman drops by, tells her that Cassie’ll be fine, eventually. Cassie shivers and pushes her head against Dinah’s chest. Her skin burns.
“Oh honey, oh honey,” Dinah croons, stroking a hand down her side, palm on her hip. Their legs tangle. Cassie is groggy and incoherent, mouthing nonsense words into the flesh above Dinah’s neckline. She twitches every so often, and Dinah presses her lips into sweaty hair. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”
Cassie has a long line of glass right above her butt, and Dinah touches it, feels smooth skin where her mind expects something hard. Dinah’s already warm, moves Cassie so she’s on top, splays a hand across the small of her back.

Cassie raises a hand to touch Dinah’s neck. “Dinah Dinah Dinah.”

“You know my name? I mean, of course you know my name, but you can say my name?”

Cassie giggles, presses a wet kiss to her collarbone. “Dinah.” She moves up higher, bites along Dinah’s jaw, the curve of her throat.

“Whoa there, Cassie. Much as I’d love to reciprocate, you are very woozy right now.”

“Mm.” Cassie settles down and yawns, murmuring sleepily into Dinah’s cleavage. Dinah strokes her hair.

“You’ll be better in the morning, love.”

Dinah sometimes wishes that Cassie wasn’t quite so serious. She’s patient while her leg heals, spends long hours doing careful training, watches movies like she’s studying how to be human. She’ll turn up while Dinah’s showering, hair loose around her shoulders, and calmly inquire about the Bat family. “Cass, honey, you can’t interrupt people while they shower,” Dinah explains, pushing her gently out of the stall.


“Yeah, I know you have to ask me something, but it can happen when I’m out of the shower.”

Cassie frowns. “Batman.”

“Batman let you talk to him in the shower?” She nods. “Jesus. What was that like?”

Cassie makes a considering face. “Big. Wet.”

Dinah laughs and steps back under the spray. “Batman’s not exactly the best role model when it comes to social skills, honey.” Cassie nods. “Don’t try that with Nightwing. He might take it as an invitation, and I don’t need you trying to cripple him.”
“You’re not gonna try to sneak out and patrol or anything, right?” Cassie tilts her head. “Cause Superboy did that while injured, and so did all the Robins, and just…a bunch of other superheroes. They seem to think injured means ‘go out and hurt myself more.’ Don’t even get me started on Batman, he’d go out on patrol if he lost his head.”
Cassie smiles at her. “You’re properly trained, I guess. I don’t have to worry.” Cassie touches the bandage on her thigh, then Dinah’s chest. “Yeah, see, I’m smart, too. I got hurt, so I didn’t patrol. Now my chest’s better, and I can fight again, no problem.” She lets loose a small cry, shattering a window for like the thousandth time. Cassie laughs when she blushes.