#*shakes fist* dick giordano when i get you...

[bisupergirl]

anyway she shouldn't have been killed off and erased from continuity regardless but if dc was #real in the 80s and actually gave a fuck about kara and her supporting characters then we should've at least gotten a scene during crisis on infinite earths of fred and edna danvers reacting in horror to barbara giving kara's eulogy on tv that specifically calls back to this scene from action comics #285:

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

I’ve been excited to post this chapter for WEEKS you guys are hopefully gonna love it. also not to spoil it or anything but CONTENT WARNING: this chapter contains violence ok that is all. pls enjoy and let me know what you thought! 4k words

“Dick Grayson, you’re a brilliant actor.”

It had been all too easy to get into the kitchens. Aspen had pretended Dick was nervous something bad was waiting for him around the corner after his scare, and chefs are usually pretty kind-hearted, they melted. For their troubles, Aspen and Dick got a plate full of the edge pieces of brownies and cheesecake bites - not fit to serve to guests, but more than good enough for them.

They eat them in a stairwell in a hall just off the ballroom, where they’re close enough to the action and can keep from being late.

“That was the performance of a lifetime.” She continues, reaching for another brownie. Dick smiles quietly at her around a mouthful of dessert. He’s a bit of an oddball, if she’s honest, but then again so was she at that age. He’s good company, she’ll say that much. “You get dragged to a lot of these fundraisers?”

Dick nods. “D’you ever mind?” Aspen asks again. She knows she would have. She’d been a sullen fucking kid.

“No, it’s what’s right, for me to do this. It’s important work. There’s no point in catching - like, having the police catch criminals without making sure there are ways for people to survive without having to become criminals in the first place.”

Aspen’s surprise must show, because Dick glances away, like he’s embarrassed. “At least, that’s what Calum says.”

“Nah, man, that’s such an intelligent way to look at it. You’re very- see, I was going to say mature, but that makes it sound like all adults think like that, and we both know that’s not true. Dick Grayson, I’m honoured to be your partner in crime.”

Aspen had been joking, but he almost falls down the stairs laughing at that. She didn’t know it was that funny, but she’ll take it.

It’s not nearly long enough before she gets a text from Calum Hood telling her to bring Dick and come to the ballroom, the guests are showing up. He does not remember putting in his number under anything other than “Work”, so she’s confused immediately. “I didn’t know your dad had this number,” she frowns, and when Dick avoids her eyes she assumes it’s because of how she addressed Calum. “I mean your guardian, I guess. Your parental unit. Hey, look at me, need you to check me for crumbs.”

They make sure they have no chocolate in the corners of their mouths before they head back into the fray. The room looks a little less intimidating with a lower concentration of cops in, and what she can only imagine is Gotham’s hottest string quartet is playing something that sounds like Rachmaninoff. It’s not so bad.

As soon as she sees Dick head across the ballroom to Calum, she slides back to her table with the stoic police officer she met before. Officer Montoya, she remembers. “I miss anything good?” She asks cheerfully, and as Montoya shakes her head Aspen slides a bit of brownie wrapped in a napkin over to her.

They get along a lot better after that.

Donations start to trickle in. Well, not exactly trickle, since the men and women visiting her little table are giving money to the orders of thousands. Aspen had been prepared for that, she thought, but watching people put down a year’s rent in one go in making her lightheaded. Still, she nods and smiles, and no one looks too long at her, which is exactly what she wanted.

Still, it’s almost five thirty, and she’s getting antsy like this. The champagne being passed around looks more and more inviting each time a waiter passes by their table. Calum looks distracted, so she snags a flute off a tray while he’s talking to some other couple dripping with money, and after she takes a sip she places it on the floor by the leg of her chair. Just so none of the guests think they’re giving their money to some lush. Watever. Mr. Hood is drinking, so she’s probably allowed to have just a little, right?

Plus, Aspen never feels more extravagant than when she’s day drinking. She deserves to have a little fun at this thing, just a bit.

Things have been relatively quiet so far, but as Calum steps up to a podium to give his talk she sits up a little straighter. People are undoubtedly going to be inspired by whatever he has to say, so she’s got to be prepared. She takes a more substantial sip of bubbly as he starts to speak, since she’s sure she’ll have her hands full in just a second.

(Sidenote: Aspen loves champagne.)

It turns out that Calum is an eloquent guy, when he wants to be. Aspen’s about two minutes away from digging a five out of her own purse as he waxes poetic about the kids who have to go to school hungry, work to keep a roof over their family’s heads, or beg in alleys. She’s encouraged to see how many diamond earrings are bobbing along to this, how many people look pleased with how generous he’s says they could be. Everyone wants to be good, she thinks, somewhere deep down, even if it’s just to them and theirs. And these people, they’re powerful, they think Gotham is theirs.

Sometimes, when he snaps at her, Aspen forgets how smart Calum Hood is. Right now, as he’s gently wrapping Gotham’s one percent around his finger, she can’t forget it.

She really wants more champagne, as if that would help anything, but she resists as he starts to close his speech. “Gotham’s present may seem… brutal,” He says, with just the right amount of sorrow in his voice, “but together you and I can assure its bright future. When you have a moment, my assistant is waiting to take your donations right after she takes mine. Any amount is welcome, and please, for the kids’ sake, be generous. Enjoy the music!” He adds, and as he soon as he steps aside he makes a beeline for the table.

Aspen golf-claps politely for him as he comes over, and she sees him smile, like he’s bashful, as if he didn’t know he had the whole room in a bind. His guests are still applauding for him as he steps over to her, for fuck’s sake. “I’m truly moved, sir.” She says, starting to type his information into the tablet.

“You’re sweet,” He says, and Aspen misspells his last name just from that.

She corrects herself quickly enough. “I’m honest.” She shrugs, and fixes her eyes back on him. “And how much would you like to donate today, sir?”

“Match it.”

“What?”

“Whatever amount is there. Match it.”

Aspen can be a little dramatic, she says she’s going to go into convulsions or have a heart attack all the time, but this time she actually almost falls out of her chair. “That’s-”

“Match it.”

His look at her leaves no room for argument, so Aspen bites back her response. She knows he’ll see her look and that always seems to speak volumes, between them. “Cash or cheque?” She jokes- thankfully, since he pulls out a chequebook and not a bag of notes like some cartoon bank robber.

Aspen doesn’t watch as he writes out all the zeros on the cheque, she knows she’ll get nauseous. Montoya’s got a damn good poker face, she’ll say that much. When Calum’s done he draws back, but he doesn’t move to leave just yet. “You’re drinking?”

“What?” Aspen blinks. Calum taps his foot against the leg of the table, right next to her flute of champagne. Oh. Suppose she’s caught, then. “You’re drinking.” She says, instead, and fixes her gaze on him. She has to curl her hand into a fist under the desk to maintain it, but he doesn’t know it.

For once, for fucking once, he breaks first. “Fair enough.”

It’s better than champagne, this feeling, but Aspen tries not to show it. “I’m done for now, anyways, I just wanted to taste.” She shrugs. “Gotta stay sharp.”

Calum smiles. “I’ll check in before the dinner.” He says, but doesn’t sound like a warning. It doesn’t sound like just business, either. Aspen doesn’t think about what that leaves.

She focuses on her job, after that. I mean, she was focusing before, but now she’s- fuck. Whatever. She takes the money, she says thank you in her sweetest voice, she makes the donors feel good for what they’ve done. Maybe they deserve it. Aspen doesn’t know if she trusts the rich, not right now, but she can be kind for an afternoon.

She’s aching for another drink by the time guests start to filter out from the ballroom, but she keeps her hands on the table and her smile on her face while she puts down another Drake’s name. Some family, goddamn. When she finally finds time to look around, the room is almost empty. Thank god.

She stands up and stretches, arms about her head. Her back cracks, and Montoya jumps, swears beside her. “Sorry,” Aspen says, as she sits back down and they start to count up the cheques. Aspen has to make a note of someone who said they'd offer $5000 but only wrote a cheque for $500, but it still says “five thousand” on that one line, but that's all that's wrong and Aspen is elated. She expected a robbery or something, anything to justify the security, but this is good too. Now she's confident that the guests have all climbed into their limos and gone to the second leg of the gala, and she's almost - almost! - free to go.

“I'm gonna find Mr. Hood and tell him how much we made so we can go home.” She announces, standing up and trekking across the ballroom. He doesn’t seem to be anywhere, at first glance, and Aspen has to ask two waiters and some unrelated bodyguard until she gets directed towards an office. The door is open a crack and Calum’s there, he’s talking to T. Giordano (Aspen read the nameplate). When she explains that she’s only there to bring Mr. Hood up to speed, T. Giordano lets them use her office while she oversees the end of the event. Aspen’s so pleased about this; she hasn’t slouched in hours, her back feels all sort of wrong.

Calum’s had some rough days, but he looks genuinely happy as Aspen steps into the office. He’s not smiling, but there’s a lightness in his shoulders she hasn’t seen for days. “I think it’s good news, sir.” She says carefully, holding out the tablet in front of her. “I mean, it’s more than you raised last year, so that’s something.”

He takes the tablet from her and looks it over, smiling just a little. “What’s this category, the one just-”

She steps over to his side to look. “Oh, I did a column of all the amounts we actually got from the people, just to make sure there were no problems with the cheques - actually, if you see-”

“I’ll deal with it.” He says. “Thank you for your help today, Aspen, I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.”

He is sweet, but flattery isn’t something Aspen is likely to fall for. “I just watched people write cheques, sir. This was always your event,” and maybe it’s the champagne that’s made her brave but she bumps him with her hip - maybe it’s just because this is the first time she’d been close enough to do it.

Whatever the reason, that’s what sets it off.

Calum’s head snaps over to look at her. They’re leaning against the edge of T. Giordano’s desk, but when Aspen sees the look in his eyes she straightens up a little. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. He’s putting down the tablet as she starts to apologize. “Sorry if that was inappropriate, it’s been a long day.” She shrugs.

He’s standing right in front of her. “Don’t worry about it.” He says, and when the absence of any scolding in his voice makes her look up he’s giving her this look she’s never seen, like he’s trying to set her soul on fire. His brows are creased, like it hurts, and he huffs out a little breath she doesn’t dare try to interpret. “Can I just-” He says, and reaches out and puts one hand on her waist.

Her eyes are locked on his, but she can feel her chest heave with shallow breaths, feels his hand shift a little with each one. “Yes,” is all she can say, even though there was no question.

Slowly, Calum uses his hold on her hip to drag himself in, and he lowers his head. Before Aspen can remember why she shouldn’t - he’s your boss he’s insane he’s a player and you’re just - he fits his mouth to hers and they are kissing.

There’s nothing rough about this. No teeth. Nothing tears. Just the soft press of his lips against hers and the deep sign he lets out against her cheek. He’s testing again, to see how where she’ll let this go. Yes, she thinks, yes, and she lets him pull himself so close she can feel the heat off his body, and cup her chin gently. He turns her head, just a little, as their lips move against each other like whispers.

Aspen isn’t usually pliant, but she moves with him. His lips are soft against hers, and the way he feels against her- she’d follow that fucking anywhere. This feels like everything she wanted, and she reaches out and finds the back of his neck, pulls him closer, to kiss him deeper, and-

It sounds like a gasp as he pulls away and grabs her wrist, tearing her hand off his skin before she’s even opened her eyes. They’re both panting, blinking in the light, and Aspen won’t be mad about this as long as he lets her kiss him again, she swears, just- “What?”

He’s not looking at her when he says “We can’t do this. You’re drunk.”

A different kind of burning settles into her chest. “I’ve had half a glass of champagne, I’m not-”

“Then I’m drunk.” He interrupts her, though his hand is still on her waist. Aspen tries to tug her wrist out of his grip, but he’s holding tight to that, too.

Aspen wasn’t looking for this and she knows how it goes, when some secretary falls for their boss. She’s the one in danger, not him, and if he says he doesn’t want- if that’s what he wants, then… “If you say so.”

The room seems dead silent, now, so that every word she says almost echoes around the room. Calum feels it too. He shudders a little and lets go of her, all of her, and draws back.

They collect themselves. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but they find things to adjust and fix so they don’t have to look at each other. Aspen straightens out her cardigan, moves away from the desk like it’s a trap. She watches Mr. Hood smooth imaginary wrinkles out of his jacket, and when he turns to face her again it’s like a door has closed somewhere inside of him. Whatever light had been in his face is gone.

She doesn’t want to let it scare her, but - her job, his kiss, there’s so much she needs from him.

She waits for him to speak.

“We should put this behind us.” He says, finally. Aspen didn’t expect anything less, but hearing it out loud - it stings. “This was a mistake.”

That’s worse. There’s a lot Aspen can take, but right now, while she’s still got the taste of him in her mouth… She feels white-hot angry, just for a second, and then she collects herself. “Don’t worry about it.” She says, in a voice that’s way too sweet. She turns to the tablet, so she doesn’t have to see how he reacts. “‘S only a mistake if you let it happen again, right?”

“What?”

She hates the idea of looking at him right now, so she stays facing the desk. “Like - it’s only a mistake if you don’t learn from it, if you let it happen again, so don’t worry about it, I’ll see you Monday, I’m gonna-”

He spins her around in one movement and this time when he kisses her it is rough, but she’s angry too and she tangles her fingers in his hair as soon as she knows what’s happening. He’s pressed his tongue into her mouth and his hands are tight around her hips, strong enough to hold her there. He’s pressed right up against her, crowding her against the desk, and she kisses him back like she wants the air out of his lungs. His teeth catch at her lower lip and she opens her mouth a little wider for him, just so he please won’t stop.

It’s so good, but it’s too intense, and after a long moment they break apart and rest their foreheads together, still panting into each other’s mouths. They’ve still got their nails dug into each other, but Aspen can feel something more than lust and chemicals between them, and as he meets her eyes-

He steps back, like he’s been shoved. “There.” He says, but his usual sureness has melted and she can see his eyes flicker, like he’s nervous. “Now it’s a mistake.”

He’s gone before she can reply.

Aspen doesn’t remember too much, after that. She knows what she did, mostly, to get herself out of the botanical gardens and into a cab, but it’s a blur of smiling and excuses when she tries to think back to who she talked to or what she said. It doesn’t matter, really. She doesn’t scream and she doesn’t cry and she gets in a taxi and really that’s all she needs.

When she has to tell the driver to take her to Hood Enterprises, she almost stutters over Calum’s last name. It hurts, a little, because she wanted this, even though she knew this would happen. Did she think she could handle it? She didn’t love this job, but she was good at it and it payed damn well, and- she might have to quit. Fuck, she hadn’t started this with the intention of leaving before a month was up, but-

Before she can finish that thought they’re at Hood Enterprises headquarters. All she wants is to go in, listen to a few phone calls, and go home, but as soon as she enters the lobby-

“Aspen!”

Shit.

“What do you want.” She says to Liam, too tired to hide her anger. She doesn’t need this right now.

“Is Mr. Hood coming back tonight?”

Aspen doesn’t flinch when she hears his name, but it’s a near thing. “No, he’s not. Now, please, get out of my way, Liam, I just want to go home.” When she tries to push past him, Liam moves to block her, and when she looks at him properly she sees that he’s got what are very near tears in his eyes. “Wait, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Liam runs a hand through his hair and doesn’t meet her gaze. “Aspen… I really, really fucked up. I dunno if I can fix it. In sales, I- can you come? Please? I need-” He breaks off, his voice about to crack.

“How’m I supposed to help you out with sales, Liam, I’m not-” She shakes her head. Liam just gave her his biggest saddest eyes he’s got.

Well, shit. Aspen is mad at Liam for everything he did, but that doesn’t mean she can just turn her back on him. She doesn’t want to be the reason he’s fired, after all. They used to be friends, and she guesses some part of her misses that. After a long moment she sighs and checks the time on her phone. “I can’t stay long.” She says quietly.

Liam almosts lifts off the ground, he’s so relieved. “Thank you so much.” He says, stepping aside so he can lead her towards the elevator.

“I don’t know what you expect me to be able to do, Liam, you know I’m useless when it comes to econ.” She’s been through enough today, she’s not gonna let herself get carried away.

“I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Really. Aspen, you’re - thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Aspen mumbles as he presses the button and the doors close. They start moving down - wait, down? “Why are we headed to the parking garage?” She glances at him, reaching for the panel of buttons. “What floor do you work on aga-”

The attack is sudden, and it feels so brutal that years later it’s still one of her nightmares.

Liam grabs her arm before she can finish her sentence, sliding around her so it twists behind her back all in one move, pushing her front up against the wall of the elevator in one smooth move. She gasps, but before she can panic properly she remembers to fight back. Even as Liam’s weight crushes her lungs, she jerks back with her free elbow, hitting some soft part of Liam’s torso behind her. She feels his breath on her neck as she strikes out again, again.

There’s one thought running through her head; she’s not gonna die like this. She’s not.

Liam presses her arm further up her back, sending enough pain through her shoulder to make her whole body buckle. But he’s backed off a little, out of elbow range, so as soon as Aspen hears the door open she pushes off the wall with her whole body to get out of his grip.

She must surprise him, because it works. She pushes him off enough to shake out of his grip, runs for the grey concrete of the parking lot. Liam’s footsteps echo behind her, but she’s fast, she can-

Liam tackles her with his full weight. As Aspen hits the ground she skids, palms stinging. Shit. She tries to get her knees under herself, but Liam’s got her pinned and he flips her over to her back easy - he’s twice her fucking size! She tries to punch him, but he catches her wrist slams it to the grounds about her head. The other one follows.

Aspen’s gasping for air and trying to take stock. Liam is straddling her, he’s got her wrists pinned above her head and even now he moves so that he’s got both of them in one hand. He’s reaching into a pocket for something and she doesn’t want to know what. “Liam,” she says, “don’t, Liam, I- help!”

Liam swears, and she feels him ruck up one side of her cardigan, bunching it up past her elbow. Her blood goes cold. She screams again, but this time she can’t find any words for this.. She looks around as best she can, but the lot is empty of cars.

It’s just her. She’s alone.

A scraping sound catches her attention, and when she looks back at Liam he’s pulling the plastic cover off a syringe with his teeth. She struggles against his grip. What else can she do? “Fuck, Liam, don’t- what are you doing-”

“Please stay still, please, okay, I don’t want to hurt you.” He says.

Then he plunges the needle into her arm.

Aspen fucking wails, and yes, she knows its undignified, but she can feel whatever was in that syringe flow through her bicep and it’s a living horror. Liam throws the weapon away and rolls off her, but by the time she drags herself up on her elbows she can guess what he shot into her veins. Everything feels heavy - her head is too much for her neck, and she almost collapses before Liam gathers her into his arms.

She hates him.

He’s murmuring something - it takes effort to tune in, like the world is a radio. Something… he’s sorry? “Fuck you,” Aspen murmurs. She’s too tired for this. She just needs to- for a second- just-

She closes her eyes.