#duke cashed in a few favors for this and with the condition that he tells them all about it once its done

[luxaofhesperides]

Date Night Continuation ; requested by @xysidhequeen!

Duke has yet to see Stray. 

Or, at least, he doesn’t think he’s seen Stray yet.

He could be anyone here, during the club’s Masquerade night, full of people covered in glitter, leather, and fancy masks covering most of their faces. Duke’s heard about this club before, seen its name pop up in some of Tim and Steph’s investigation, but he’s never gone inside.

But the note Stray left him at the GCU Museum Archives lead him here, with only the instructions: find me if you can lover boy.

So here’s Duke, scanning the crowd of masked club-goers, searching for Stray.

He shares a quick smile with a few people, smoothly wandering past searching hands, hoping for a dance. The drink he carries is just sparkling water so he doesn’t look out of place, undercover as he is. Duke is here as himself, not as the Signal, and it leaves him feeling exposed.

The clothes Steph picked out for him also contribute to that feeling, to be fair. It’s not all about him feeling more vulnerable outside of being Signal; in a crop top and tight dark jeans, it’s hard to feel covered at all. Wearing it, and the mask handed to him at the door, makes him feel like a different person as he weaves his way through dancing bodies all lit up by colorful lighting. 

Every head of dark hair catches his attention, but none resemble Stay. 

Duke really hopes this isn’t a joke. He doesn’t want to get his heart broken at the club.

He takes a moment to stop and lean against the wall next to the stairs that lead upstairs to the offices and VIP rooms, sipping on his drink. The crowd dances out, and a group of women next to him are singing offkey and happy, without a hint of insecurity as their drinks spill out of their cups and over their hands. 

Stray is clever. He’s always got a snarky comment on his tongue and a laugh to follow. He slips out of every tight situation with ease, and though they all suspect he has some sort of power, Catwoman refuses to confirm. 

Stray wouldn’t lead Duke to this club just to hide in the crowd. 

Finishing his drink, Duke sets his empty glass on an unattended table, then glances around to make sure no one’s looking at him.

Then he steps back and pulls the light around him to shift and cover him, hiding him from sight. 

The stairs lead up into a dark, dimly lit hallway. The floor must have been built with sound dampeners in place, the loud music turned into a distant throb of bass. 

Instead of the modern, black and sleek look of the club downstairs, the upper floor is must more elegant. An oriental rug in muted green colors decorates the hallway and abstract art pieces hang on the walls. 

All the doors to the VIP rooms are closed and require keycard access. 

The office at the very end of the hall, however, has light spilling into the hallway from the barely opened door.

On silent feet, Duke makes his way down the hallway, double checking the placement of all the security cameras. There’s one in the corner, but surely seeing a door move slightly won’t make the security guards think there’s an intruder; so far, no one’s connected it to the Bats, but there has been an uptick in people reporting haunted buildings in Gotham. 

Guess it’s time to add another building to that list.

Duke pulls open the door until he has just enough space to enter. The office appears empty when he looks around, taking note of the large wooden desk in the back and the leather couches to the side. This is definitely a place where mob leaders meet with the club owner to either get a share of the profits, setting up a meeting with other gangs to sell weapons, or deliver drugs to be sold in the club. 

And there’s also an impressive display of items in a cabinet in the back, the glass doors giving perfect views of the antique watches, Chinese fans, and small stone sculptures of animals. All are evenly spaced out, making it clear that something has been stolen that was once in the empty space between a fan on display and a bird painted in gold. 

He checks that there are no cameras in the office. Then Duke releases his hold on the light around him and uses his powers to try to see if he can see where Stray went after hitting the office. 

A faintly glowing outline of Stray appears, taking out a stone wolf before carefully closing the cabinet door. But instead of heading to the window to make his escape, this past visage of Stray turns to the couches and sits down, facing the door. He doesn’t move again after that.

Duke tilts his head, then closes the office door completely. It won’t be enough to keep Stray from slipping away again, but it will at least prevent anyone from finding them up here. 

“Did I keep you waiting?” he asks as he heads for the couches. With his powers still active, Duke can see where Stray has hidden himself, invisible to anyone who isn’t Duke. 

“And here I was, thinking I was being so clever. I thought your powers had to do with shadows?”

Strays voices rings out clear from the couch, then he fades back into sight. Duke gladly lets go of his power, blinking his eyes behind the mask to adjust to normal vision again. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he responds, watching as Stray gets to his feet, stone wolf in his hands. It holds a strange green glow, shining out of a crack in the stone along its back. 

He can’t pay attention it for long, though, as Stray crosses the distance to meet him. Selina has certainly taught him well; every movement is purposeful and elegant as he circles around Duke, reaching out with a gloved finger to drag his touch along the exposed skin of his back.

His touch is electrifying and sends shivers through Duke’s body. He barely dares to breathe as Stray completes his slow circuit around him, looking him over with dark eyes. 

“Did you get dressed up just for me?” he purrs, leaning closer to Duke.

“You wanted a date,” he replies, “I’m not one to disappoint.”

“But apparently, I am,” Stray pouts. “This is part of the chase, okay? I’m not the type of guy to take you to a club for our first date.”

First date? That’s… implying things Duke very much wants to be true. 

“Why’d you stay, then? Just to tease me?”

Feeling bold, with no eyes on him but Stray, Duke catches him around the waist with his arm and pulls him close. “Or were you hoping to have your way with me while no one’s around?”

Stray’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. His flirtatious persona falls apart as he turns his face away, trying to hide behind his hands. The heat of the moment fades away into something lighter, more like the fun they’re used to when they’re chasing each other on rooftops. Duke smiles and gently knocks his head against Strays.

“Come on,” he says, “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

“I can’t believe Cat said that this would be easy. I can’t handle acting like that for so long!”

“Wait, were you purposefully trying to act like Catwoman?”

Stray nods, embarrassed. “She gave me a bunch of tips and promised that they would work on Bats. Which they do, but I wasn’t prepared for you to hit back!”

“Stray,” Duke begins, holding back a laugh, “You know that I want to date you, right? Not Catwoman.” Just the thought makes him mentally shudder in disgust. No way would he ever be into Selina, not after he’s seen her with Bruce. Plus, she practically the same age as him mom. And anyways, who has time to chase after Selina when Stray is right there?

“I know, but I haven’t gone on a date in like, years. I panicked, okay!”

“Well, if you’re done with being chased, how about we get out of here?”

Stray perks up, finally lifting his face from his hands. “Sure. I’m still going to take this with me, though.” He holds up the stone wolf, as if Duke had forgotten.

“That’s fine.”

“Really?” Stray squints at him suspiciously. “Not going to make me put it back? Tell me off for stealing?”

Normally, he would, but Duke doesn’t care much about what happens to the trinkets of a profitable club owner with ties to different mob families. “Does it look like I’m here as the Signal?”

Stray looks him up and down, consideringly, then taps the side of his masquerade mask. “Well, you’ve got a mask on, don’t you? Isn’t that all you Bats need?”

“We also need a reason to get involved and risk having our identities exposed. This isn’t one of those times.”

“So, what, if I steal while on a date with you, that’s fine?”

Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but you’re not hurting anyone and the club owner is rich enough to buy more shit. Besides, you have a reason for taking that instead of any of the gold, right?”

“Right,” Stray answers slowly, as if he wasn’t expecting Duke to by cool with it. Which is strange, since Duke wouldn’t be trying to date Catwoman’s apprentice if he wasn’t okay with a little bit of crime in his love life. It’s one of the first things he got over when he came to terms with his crush.

“So?” Duke prompts. “We heading out now?”

Stray laughs, a little disbelieving, and smoothly slips out of Duke’s grasp. “Sure, we can go. Keep up if you can, lover boy.”

And then he’s out the window, scaling to the top of the building. Duke hurries to follow, making handholds from shadows to give him a boost. Stray stays visible this time, thankfully, so Duke can easily track his path over the rooftops, giving chase. 

Stray stops every so often to make sure Duke is following. He moves with intent, clearly leading them somewhere, and Duke is more than happy to follow his lead. He jumps onto roofs, freerunning recklessly, and passes through shadows every so often to close the distance between them a little more. Every few streets, Duke catches a glimpse of flashes of the wild grin decorating Stray’s face and it pushes him to go faster, to keep up, to catch him.

He finally slows to a stop on the top of a high rise in the Diamond District, making his way up the side of the building with ease, despite how hard it is to move on the large, smooth, glass windows. He waits at the very top, peering down to where Duke uses shadows to travel up to join him. 

Duke doesn’t bother with giving himself space to land, choosing instead to step right into Stray’s space, walking them away from the ledge with his hands on Stray’s waist. 

“Caught you,” he breathes, catching his breath.

Stray’s shoulders shake lightly with bitten back laughter and his eyes are bright, googles pushed up to the top of his head. 

“Only because I let you,” Stray replies. This lighthearted mood fades a bit and he reaches up to trace the bottom edges of Duke’s mask. “If you’re serious about this, you’ll have to take this off, you know.”

“I know. I’m fine with it.”

“Really? I thought Bats were super protective of their secret identities.”

“Selina knows all of us by name. We’ve known her for years. Honestly, I’d be shocked if you didn’t have some idea of who we are by now.”

“It’s still a pretty big secret to let loose,” Stray says, carefully saying nothing about if he has his suspicions or not. “Especially with me. I’ve only been here for a year.”

That’s one of the arguments Bruce presented when Duke mentioned going on a date with Stray. It’s a valid argument, don’t get him wrong, but there wasn’t much to say after Duke listed every single Rogue and hero who knew their identities. They might use that knowledge at times to target them as civilians, but even Gotham’s Rogues don’t want the Bats to leave; he may stop their crimes and do terrifying amounts of physical damage to them, but he also protects them from trigger happy cops who don’t value the sanctity of life.

Besides, Duke’s aiming for mutually assured destruction. Secret identities are important, for both Duke and Stray. So long as they can hold each other’s secrets, build trust around that, then they’ll be fine. 

“I’m fine with it. Just as long as you’re fine with letting me know who you are under the mask.”

“I was planning on telling you even if you wanted to keep the mask on,” Stray admits. “Here, let’s sit down.”

He turns and walks towards the center of the roof, where a picnic blanket is laid out, with pillows for more comfortable sitting and two baskets waiting for them. Duke had been so focused on Stray that he missed it completely, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes that Stray had gone out of his way to make sure they had a nice first date with as much privacy as they could get.

The flirting and the chase has been fun and all, but Duke is especially weak to being romanced to sweetly. 

“You set this up for us?” he asks as he follows Stray to the picnic blanket.

“I told you I wasn’t going to have our first place be at a club. I’m better than that.”

“No need to get defensive,” Duke smiles, sitting down next to Stray. “It’s very sweet. Just caught me a little off guard.”

“Yeah, well.” Stray shrugs, fiddling with the stone dog in his hand. He lets out a breath, sets the stone dog down, then pulls off his gloves and holds out a hand to Duke. “It’s a bit late, but hi. I’m Danny.”

What else could Duke do but take off his mask, after that? “Danny, huh? It suits you. I’m Duke.” 

He doesn’t shake Danny’s hand. He lifts Danny’s hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “And I still want to take you out dancing. Is it too early to ask for a second date?”

It’s such a treat to see Danny’s cheeks flush red, his blue eyes bright and shining. It’s such a treat to get to have him outside of masks. There’s no persona they have to play, no responsibilities keeping them from simply being with each other. 

“Definitely not,” he answers shyly. “Now stop being such a flirt and eat some dinner, I’m starving and I worked really hard on it.”

“Oh shit, you cooked?” 

More and more, it’s clear that Danny is the guy of his dreams. Cute, funny, romantic, and cooks? Damn, Duke’s gonna need to step up his game for their second date.

“Yeah. I think it turned out good, but I also had a lot of help because I’m not used to cooking with ingredients that don’t fight back.”

Duke pauses where he’s unloading the first basket, full of still warm tiny potatoes, oven roasted to perfection and coated in herb butter. Ingredients that don’t fight back? Slowly, Duke sets the potatoes between them as he tries to make sense of the words. “Are you just used to working with live animals or something? Angry lobsters?”

“Oh, no. The food in my house growing up was always super contaminated and it made food come to life and attack us. The sausages liked to band together and try to revolutionize. They’re pretty vicious.”

“Okay, you have got to tell me more.”

Grinning, Danny does just that as he unloads his own basket, setting out plates and utensils. 

It’s the most fun Duke’s ever had on a date. They spend hours on that roof, just talking, long after the food is gone. It’s only when the world goes fully dark in the hour just before dawn that they agree to head home to get some sleep. 

They’re going to need it. Their second date is set and planned for the next night and Duke already can’t wait to see Danny again.

Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!

He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day. 

Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.

Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.

But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.

It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.

So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly. 

“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.

“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building. 

“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”

“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest. 

“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”

Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.

The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows. 

Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly. 

“Got you!” 

The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain. 

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.

“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”

“Seriously, can we talk?”

Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.

It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago. 

Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?

“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.

“What?” Danny laughs, confused.

The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”

“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”

Danny…

Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”

“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”

“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.

“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”

Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”

“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.

There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing. 

“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”

“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”

“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”

“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”

It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder. 

“Why not dance with me now?”

Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers. 

Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there. 

Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”

And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.

Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly. 

He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again. 

Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…

Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats. 

He’s already looking forward to it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[dwellordream]

“During the years of Eleanor of Aquitaine’s captivity, 1174–89, she disappears almost entirely from sight. According to one account, Henry II ordered her confined in “well guarded strong places”; and she was first housed under close supervision in the royal castle at Sarum, or Old Salisbury, although later she can be located occasionally at other royal castles in southern England. As a woman, Eleanor received more lenient treatment than men captured while taking part in an armed rebellion; and Henry may have chosen Salisbury Castle for her detention as a gesture of leniency, for its residential quarters, a large quadrangle next to the keep, had been one of her favored abodes during her earlier years as queen.

According to a chronicler at Limoges, Henry imprisoned his queen at Salisbury Castle, “on guard against her reverting to her machinations.” The king’s fear was Eleanor’s continued involvement in the intrigues of their quarrelsome sons, and he tried to ensure that no communication passed between them. Yet he could not afford to treat her too harshly, for that would only have added to the hatred that Young Henry, Richard, and Geoffrey already felt for him. Earlier, both Anglo-Norman monarchs and counts of Anjou had not hesitated to imprison defeated nobles, including near-relatives, for years, often under such harsh conditions that they lost their health, if not their lives. 

A queen’s long captivity was startling, but imprisonment of great ladies was not unprecedented. In medieval vernacular literature, tales were not uncommon of aristocratic ladies locked away for years, many of them by their own families, and history records many noble maidens whose fathers were forced to turn them over to their lords as hostages. Henry II could have made other choices for ridding himself of the threat presented by Eleanor to the stability of his rule. She could simply have disappeared during her captivity at Chinon, but young Arthur of Brittany’s mysterious disappearance from Rouen Castle later during John’s reign shows that such a solution would have created more problems than it solved. 

Rumors that John had murdered his nephew with his own hands quickly spread, and it sapped his subjects’ loyalty to him, crippling him in his contest with his archenemy Philip of France. Certainly rumors of Eleanor’s death while in Henry’s hands following his suspected role in the murder of Becket would have had a similar effect. His wife’s murder would have aroused revulsion throughout Europe, and it would have so enraged the Poitevins that Plantagenet rule over them would have been impossible. In any case, Henry’s character had little in common with that of the insecure and overly suspicious John, and although severe and vengeful, he lacked his youngest son’s depraved cruelty that surfaced once he was king. 

An option that great men had often chosen in earlier centuries for dealing with wayward or unwanted wives was immuring them in convents. Henry II considered such a step in 1175–76, when his adulterous affair with Rosamund Clifford was at its most passionate stage. A contemporary writer claimed that Henry, having imprisoned his queen, no longer tried to hide his adultery, and publicly displayed as his mistress, “not a rose of the world (mundi rosa) . . . , but more truly might be called the rose of an impure husband (immundi rosa).” 

Apparently Henry was not worried that dissolution of his marriage to Eleanor would threaten his authority over her duchy of Aquitaine. Despite Louis VII’s loss of Aquitaine as a result of his divorce, Henry seemed confident that Richard’s formal installation as duke of Aquitaine and count of Poitou would keep Eleanor’s lands safely in Plantagenet hands. Henry saw an opportunity to secure a divorce from Eleanor at the time of a mission to England by a papal legate, sent from Rome to settle one of the endless quarrels between the kingdom’s two archbishops. On the papal representative’s arrival in England in autumn 1175, the king received him with honor, showering him with gifts and flattery. 

Henry assumed that the cardinal would agree readily to a dissolution of his marriage on grounds of consanguinity, since Louis VII had won a divorce for that reason, and Henry’s kinship to Eleanor was even closer than her relationship to her first husband. The English king allegedly offered his queen release from her captivity during his Easter court at Winchester in 1176, if she would agree to enter a religious house, no doubt Fontevraud Abbey, probably with the prospect of becoming abbess there. The abbey had a reputation as a residence for noble ladies seeking refuge from wordly affairs, but Eleanor was unwilling to join them, not even if installed as abbess, and she and her sons resisted Henry’s plan. 

She even appealed to the archbishop of Rouen against being packed off to Fontevraud, and he refused to give his consent to Henry’s plan. As the archbishop of Rouen’s role shows, the Church’s opposition was another obstacle to Henry in ridding himself of Eleanor, and his projected divorce was not to be easily accomplished. After Becket’s martyrdom, the English king had little credit with the papacy or with churchmen in England or elsewhere in Europe. He was in no position to pressure a pope firmly opposed to approving a divorce, particularly one who was doubtless aware of rumors that he desired the divorce in order to marry his mistress. 

Whatever the possibility of Henry II setting his queen aside and taking Rosamund Clifford as his wife, events intervened to prevent it, for his beloved mistress died late in 1176 or in 1177. His fair Rosamund was buried at Godstow Priory in Oxfordshire only a few miles from their trysting place at Woodstock. Around the time of Rosamund’s death the patron of Godstow, an Oxfordshire baron, assigned his patronage rights over the house to Henry in order that it should be held “in chief of the king’s crown, as the Abbey of Saint Edmund and other royal abbeys throughout the kingdom of England are constituted.” This elevation in Godstow’s status reflects Henry’s deep feelings for his mistress, a desire to honor the convent that housed her tomb and to place the nuns watching over it under royal protection. 

In the years following Rosamund’s death, Henry showed great generosity to the Godstow nuns, making them cash grants and giving them timber for their building projects. Soon gossip was circulating that Henry II’s desire for an annulment of his marriage was not in order to wed Rosamund Clifford, but so that he could marry instead the sixteen-year-old Alix of France, a maiden whom he had already “unchastely, and with too much want of faith, dishonored.” Alix’s father Louis VII had betrothed her to Richard at the Montmirail settlement of 1169, and he had handed her over to be raised at her future father-in-law’s court. 

Henry’s ravishing of young Alix was far more shameful to contemporaries than his affair with Rosamund Clifford, for he had taken advantage of a girl entrusted to him as his ward when she was only nine to remain in his household until she reached the proper age for marrying Richard. In taking her to his bed, he had not only violated her trust, but also the trust of her father, his lord the French king, as well as that of his own son. This affair had begun during the queen’s absences from court, but given the rapid circulation of rumors from the royal court, Eleanor heard of the scandal almost at once, whether still in Poitou or sequestered in England later. 

The queen would learn that Henry did not limit his adulterous affairs to Alix of France while she was in captivity. He sired another illegitimate son by a Welsh woman, Nest, married to one of his knights from southwestern England. He acknowledged the boy, named Morgan, who became a cleric and eventually was named provost of Beverley, Yorkshire, a lucrative ecclesiastical living that English kings often granted to high-ranking royal servants. News of the king’s liaison with Alix must have left Eleanor appalled, for the king’s conduct not only grossly violated aristocratic standards of honorable behavior, but also betrayed and humiliated her favorite son. 

It gave both Eleanor and Richard yet another grievance against Henry. According to a courtier’s hostile account, the king hoped by means of new heirs born to his new favorite that he might “be able effectually to disinherit his former sons by Eleanor, who had troubled him.” The story of Henry II’s seduction of Alix is not simply another scurrilous tale told by his enemies, for several sources corroborate it. Henry was curiously reluctant to carry out the princess’s long-delayed marriage to Richard, despite periodic protests from Louis VII and Philip II and from high-ranking churchmen including the pope complaining on their behalf. 

Strongest evidence for the accusation’s accuracy, however, is Richard Lionheart’s own resistance to marrying Alix. Roger of Howden, a chronicler with access to court circles, records Richard’s excuse offered to Philip, her half-brother, for refusing to marry his betrothed of many years at the outset of the Third Crusade. He quotes Richard as telling the French king, “I do not reject your sister; but it is impossible for me to marry her, for my father had slept with her and had a son by her.” Richard then added that he could present many witnesses capable of testifying to the truth of his statement. 

At the time, the English king was in the embarrassing position of preparing to take a Spanish princess as his bride, and he needed a potent excuse for breaking off his engagement to Alix. The Lionheart’s most respected modern biographer finds it difficult to discount Howden’s “explicit statement.” Furthermore, the Lionheart need not have lodged such a bitter accusation against his own father in order to justify his rejection of Alix; he could simply have declared that she had borne another man’s child without naming the father.

…As years passed Eleanor was allowed to make sojourns at other castles, certainly to Winchester and Windsor and perhaps as far west as Devonshire, where she had held substantial lands. Within Winchester Castle was a series of buildings that together formed the equivalent of a royal palace; and during Henry II’s reign repairs and additions to the residential quarters were constantly under way.  At Winchester, the queen probably encountered her daughter-in-law, Margaret, wife of the Young King, who was a frequent visitor there, for works undertaken in 1174–75 included construction of an addition “where the young queen hears mass.”

In 1176, Robert Mauduit received a payment of almost three pounds by the king’s order, apparently for Eleanor’s expenses during Henry’s Easter court held that year at Winchester. That court marked the last time that she would see all four of her sons together. Richard and Geoffrey had crossed from France for the feast, and they returned to the Continent with their father. Henry the Young King and his queen also left England after Easter, and he would be away from the kingdom for three years before returning for another Easter court at Winchester. 

The dullness of Eleanor’s life was brightened by the betrothal of her youngest daughter Joanne in 1176. The captive Eleanor had no voice in negotiations for the eleven-year-old girl’s hand, but she would have been filled with pride at Joanne’s selection as the bride of William II, king of Sicily. William’s kingdom was the creation of eleventh-century Norman adventurers incorporating both Sicily and the southern Italian mainland and heir to traditions of the island’s previous occupiers, Greeks, Romans, and Arabs. 

Years earlier Eleanor had seen first-hand the island’s splendors at their height under King Roger II, when her ship from the Holy Land, blown off course, landed her at the cosmopolitan city of Palermo in 1149. By the time William succeeded to the throne, however, Sicily’s greatness was fading into a sort of “Indian summer.” Henry II had sought a Sicilian marriage for one of his daughters earlier, and the project was revived in May 1176, when ambassadors from the Sicilian royal court came to England. They were entertained at Winchester, where Joanne was residing and where Eleanor had remained for a time after the Easter court. 

The young princess’s beauty impressed the envoys, and Henry agreed to her betrothal to the young Sicilian ruler. English emissaries set off for Sicily to negotiate the marriage settlement, arriving at Palermo in early August. Perhaps the queen helped in readying her daughter’s trousseau and prepared her for life at the Sicilian royal court by recalling her own visit there years earlier. After Joanne’s departure for her new home, her mother could not have expected to see her ever again, but chance would reunite them on two occasions many years later. In September 1176 Joanne left Winchester for Palermo, loaded with clothing, gold and silver plate, and other impressive gifts to take to her new island home; the cost of one of her robes, no doubt her wedding dress, was over £114.25 

In February 1177 in the Palatine Chapel at Palermo, she married William, a young man of twenty-two, and her coronation as his queen quickly followed. Joanne’s Sicilian marriage aroused greater interest among the English than had her two elder sisters’ marriages earlier to foreign princes. English adventurers journeyed south to seek their fortunes, attracted by accounts of the island kingdom’s riches. Artistic and literary inspiration flowed northward from Sicily; mosaics in Sicily’s Byzantine-style churches influenced English wall-paintings and manuscript miniatures, and the Sicilian kingdom became a setting for English romances.”

- Ralph V. Turner,  “A Captive Queen’s Lost Years, 1174–1189.” in Eleanor of Aquitaine: Queen of France, Queen of England

[luxaofhesperides]

Date Night Continuation ; requested by @xysidhequeen!

Duke has yet to see Stray. 

Or, at least, he doesn’t think he’s seen Stray yet.

He could be anyone here, during the club’s Masquerade night, full of people covered in glitter, leather, and fancy masks covering most of their faces. Duke’s heard about this club before, seen its name pop up in some of Tim and Steph’s investigation, but he’s never gone inside.

But the note Stray left him at the GCU Museum Archives lead him here, with only the instructions: find me if you can lover boy.

So here’s Duke, scanning the crowd of masked club-goers, searching for Stray.

He shares a quick smile with a few people, smoothly wandering past searching hands, hoping for a dance. The drink he carries is just sparkling water so he doesn’t look out of place, undercover as he is. Duke is here as himself, not as the Signal, and it leaves him feeling exposed.

The clothes Steph picked out for him also contribute to that feeling, to be fair. It’s not all about him feeling more vulnerable outside of being Signal; in a crop top and tight dark jeans, it’s hard to feel covered at all. Wearing it, and the mask handed to him at the door, makes him feel like a different person as he weaves his way through dancing bodies all lit up by colorful lighting. 

Every head of dark hair catches his attention, but none resemble Stay. 

Duke really hopes this isn’t a joke. He doesn’t want to get his heart broken at the club.

He takes a moment to stop and lean against the wall next to the stairs that lead upstairs to the offices and VIP rooms, sipping on his drink. The crowd dances out, and a group of women next to him are singing offkey and happy, without a hint of insecurity as their drinks spill out of their cups and over their hands. 

Stray is clever. He’s always got a snarky comment on his tongue and a laugh to follow. He slips out of every tight situation with ease, and though they all suspect he has some sort of power, Catwoman refuses to confirm. 

Stray wouldn’t lead Duke to this club just to hide in the crowd. 

Finishing his drink, Duke sets his empty glass on an unattended table, then glances around to make sure no one’s looking at him.

Then he steps back and pulls the light around him to shift and cover him, hiding him from sight. 

The stairs lead up into a dark, dimly lit hallway. The floor must have been built with sound dampeners in place, the loud music turned into a distant throb of bass. 

Instead of the modern, black and sleek look of the club downstairs, the upper floor is must more elegant. An oriental rug in muted green colors decorates the hallway and abstract art pieces hang on the walls. 

All the doors to the VIP rooms are closed and require keycard access. 

The office at the very end of the hall, however, has light spilling into the hallway from the barely opened door.

On silent feet, Duke makes his way down the hallway, double checking the placement of all the security cameras. There’s one in the corner, but surely seeing a door move slightly won’t make the security guards think there’s an intruder; so far, no one’s connected it to the Bats, but there has been an uptick in people reporting haunted buildings in Gotham. 

Guess it’s time to add another building to that list.

Duke pulls open the door until he has just enough space to enter. The office appears empty when he looks around, taking note of the large wooden desk in the back and the leather couches to the side. This is definitely a place where mob leaders meet with the club owner to either get a share of the profits, setting up a meeting with other gangs to sell weapons, or deliver drugs to be sold in the club. 

And there’s also an impressive display of items in a cabinet in the back, the glass doors giving perfect views of the antique watches, Chinese fans, and small stone sculptures of animals. All are evenly spaced out, making it clear that something has been stolen that was once in the empty space between a fan on display and a bird painted in gold. 

He checks that there are no cameras in the office. Then Duke releases his hold on the light around him and uses his powers to try to see if he can see where Stray went after hitting the office. 

A faintly glowing outline of Stray appears, taking out a stone wolf before carefully closing the cabinet door. But instead of heading to the window to make his escape, this past visage of Stray turns to the couches and sits down, facing the door. He doesn’t move again after that.

Duke tilts his head, then closes the office door completely. It won’t be enough to keep Stray from slipping away again, but it will at least prevent anyone from finding them up here. 

“Did I keep you waiting?” he asks as he heads for the couches. With his powers still active, Duke can see where Stray has hidden himself, invisible to anyone who isn’t Duke. 

“And here I was, thinking I was being so clever. I thought your powers had to do with shadows?”

Strays voices rings out clear from the couch, then he fades back into sight. Duke gladly lets go of his power, blinking his eyes behind the mask to adjust to normal vision again. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he responds, watching as Stray gets to his feet, stone wolf in his hands. It holds a strange green glow, shining out of a crack in the stone along its back. 

He can’t pay attention it for long, though, as Stray crosses the distance to meet him. Selina has certainly taught him well; every movement is purposeful and elegant as he circles around Duke, reaching out with a gloved finger to drag his touch along the exposed skin of his back.

His touch is electrifying and sends shivers through Duke’s body. He barely dares to breathe as Stray completes his slow circuit around him, looking him over with dark eyes. 

“Did you get dressed up just for me?” he purrs, leaning closer to Duke.

“You wanted a date,” he replies, “I’m not one to disappoint.”

“But apparently, I am,” Stray pouts. “This is part of the chase, okay? I’m not the type of guy to take you to a club for our first date.”

First date? That’s… implying things Duke very much wants to be true. 

“Why’d you stay, then? Just to tease me?”

Feeling bold, with no eyes on him but Stray, Duke catches him around the waist with his arm and pulls him close. “Or were you hoping to have your way with me while no one’s around?”

Stray’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. His flirtatious persona falls apart as he turns his face away, trying to hide behind his hands. The heat of the moment fades away into something lighter, more like the fun they’re used to when they’re chasing each other on rooftops. Duke smiles and gently knocks his head against Strays.

“Come on,” he says, “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

“I can’t believe Cat said that this would be easy. I can’t handle acting like that for so long!”

“Wait, were you purposefully trying to act like Catwoman?”

Stray nods, embarrassed. “She gave me a bunch of tips and promised that they would work on Bats. Which they do, but I wasn’t prepared for you to hit back!”

“Stray,” Duke begins, holding back a laugh, “You know that I want to date you, right? Not Catwoman.” Just the thought makes him mentally shudder in disgust. No way would he ever be into Selina, not after he’s seen her with Bruce. Plus, she practically the same age as him mom. And anyways, who has time to chase after Selina when Stray is right there?

“I know, but I haven’t gone on a date in like, years. I panicked, okay!”

“Well, if you’re done with being chased, how about we get out of here?”

Stray perks up, finally lifting his face from his hands. “Sure. I’m still going to take this with me, though.” He holds up the stone wolf, as if Duke had forgotten.

“That’s fine.”

“Really?” Stray squints at him suspiciously. “Not going to make me put it back? Tell me off for stealing?”

Normally, he would, but Duke doesn’t care much about what happens to the trinkets of a profitable club owner with ties to different mob families. “Does it look like I’m here as the Signal?”

Stray looks him up and down, consideringly, then taps the side of his masquerade mask. “Well, you’ve got a mask on, don’t you? Isn’t that all you Bats need?”

“We also need a reason to get involved and risk having our identities exposed. This isn’t one of those times.”

“So, what, if I steal while on a date with you, that’s fine?”

Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but you’re not hurting anyone and the club owner is rich enough to buy more shit. Besides, you have a reason for taking that instead of any of the gold, right?”

“Right,” Stray answers slowly, as if he wasn’t expecting Duke to by cool with it. Which is strange, since Duke wouldn’t be trying to date Catwoman’s apprentice if he wasn’t okay with a little bit of crime in his love life. It’s one of the first things he got over when he came to terms with his crush.

“So?” Duke prompts. “We heading out now?”

Stray laughs, a little disbelieving, and smoothly slips out of Duke’s grasp. “Sure, we can go. Keep up if you can, lover boy.”

And then he’s out the window, scaling to the top of the building. Duke hurries to follow, making handholds from shadows to give him a boost. Stray stays visible this time, thankfully, so Duke can easily track his path over the rooftops, giving chase. 

Stray stops every so often to make sure Duke is following. He moves with intent, clearly leading them somewhere, and Duke is more than happy to follow his lead. He jumps onto roofs, freerunning recklessly, and passes through shadows every so often to close the distance between them a little more. Every few streets, Duke catches a glimpse of flashes of the wild grin decorating Stray’s face and it pushes him to go faster, to keep up, to catch him.

He finally slows to a stop on the top of a high rise in the Diamond District, making his way up the side of the building with ease, despite how hard it is to move on the large, smooth, glass windows. He waits at the very top, peering down to where Duke uses shadows to travel up to join him. 

Duke doesn’t bother with giving himself space to land, choosing instead to step right into Stray’s space, walking them away from the ledge with his hands on Stray’s waist. 

“Caught you,” he breathes, catching his breath.

Stray’s shoulders shake lightly with bitten back laughter and his eyes are bright, googles pushed up to the top of his head. 

“Only because I let you,” Stray replies. This lighthearted mood fades a bit and he reaches up to trace the bottom edges of Duke’s mask. “If you’re serious about this, you’ll have to take this off, you know.”

“I know. I’m fine with it.”

“Really? I thought Bats were super protective of their secret identities.”

“Selina knows all of us by name. We’ve known her for years. Honestly, I’d be shocked if you didn’t have some idea of who we are by now.”

“It’s still a pretty big secret to let loose,” Stray says, carefully saying nothing about if he has his suspicions or not. “Especially with me. I’ve only been here for a year.”

That’s one of the arguments Bruce presented when Duke mentioned going on a date with Stray. It’s a valid argument, don’t get him wrong, but there wasn’t much to say after Duke listed every single Rogue and hero who knew their identities. They might use that knowledge at times to target them as civilians, but even Gotham’s Rogues don’t want the Bats to leave; he may stop their crimes and do terrifying amounts of physical damage to them, but he also protects them from trigger happy cops who don’t value the sanctity of life.

Besides, Duke’s aiming for mutually assured destruction. Secret identities are important, for both Duke and Stray. So long as they can hold each other’s secrets, build trust around that, then they’ll be fine. 

“I’m fine with it. Just as long as you’re fine with letting me know who you are under the mask.”

“I was planning on telling you even if you wanted to keep the mask on,” Stray admits. “Here, let’s sit down.”

He turns and walks towards the center of the roof, where a picnic blanket is laid out, with pillows for more comfortable sitting and two baskets waiting for them. Duke had been so focused on Stray that he missed it completely, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes that Stray had gone out of his way to make sure they had a nice first date with as much privacy as they could get.

The flirting and the chase has been fun and all, but Duke is especially weak to being romanced to sweetly. 

“You set this up for us?” he asks as he follows Stray to the picnic blanket.

“I told you I wasn’t going to have our first place be at a club. I’m better than that.”

“No need to get defensive,” Duke smiles, sitting down next to Stray. “It’s very sweet. Just caught me a little off guard.”

“Yeah, well.” Stray shrugs, fiddling with the stone dog in his hand. He lets out a breath, sets the stone dog down, then pulls off his gloves and holds out a hand to Duke. “It’s a bit late, but hi. I’m Danny.”

What else could Duke do but take off his mask, after that? “Danny, huh? It suits you. I’m Duke.” 

He doesn’t shake Danny’s hand. He lifts Danny’s hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “And I still want to take you out dancing. Is it too early to ask for a second date?”

It’s such a treat to see Danny’s cheeks flush red, his blue eyes bright and shining. It’s such a treat to get to have him outside of masks. There’s no persona they have to play, no responsibilities keeping them from simply being with each other. 

“Definitely not,” he answers shyly. “Now stop being such a flirt and eat some dinner, I’m starving and I worked really hard on it.”

“Oh shit, you cooked?” 

More and more, it’s clear that Danny is the guy of his dreams. Cute, funny, romantic, and cooks? Damn, Duke’s gonna need to step up his game for their second date.

“Yeah. I think it turned out good, but I also had a lot of help because I’m not used to cooking with ingredients that don’t fight back.”

Duke pauses where he’s unloading the first basket, full of still warm tiny potatoes, oven roasted to perfection and coated in herb butter. Ingredients that don’t fight back? Slowly, Duke sets the potatoes between them as he tries to make sense of the words. “Are you just used to working with live animals or something? Angry lobsters?”

“Oh, no. The food in my house growing up was always super contaminated and it made food come to life and attack us. The sausages liked to band together and try to revolutionize. They’re pretty vicious.”

“Okay, you have got to tell me more.”

Grinning, Danny does just that as he unloads his own basket, setting out plates and utensils. 

It’s the most fun Duke’s ever had on a date. They spend hours on that roof, just talking, long after the food is gone. It’s only when the world goes fully dark in the hour just before dawn that they agree to head home to get some sleep. 

They’re going to need it. Their second date is set and planned for the next night and Duke already can’t wait to see Danny again.

Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!

He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day. 

Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.

Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.

But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.

It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.

So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly. 

“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.

“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building. 

“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”

“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest. 

“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”

Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.

The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows. 

Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly. 

“Got you!” 

The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain. 

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.

“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”

“Seriously, can we talk?”

Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.

It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago. 

Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?

“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.

“What?” Danny laughs, confused.

The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”

“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”

Danny…

Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”

“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”

“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.

“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”

Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”

“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.

There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing. 

“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”

“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”

“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”

“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”

It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder. 

“Why not dance with me now?”

Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers. 

Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there. 

Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”

And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.

Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly. 

He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again. 

Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…

Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats. 

He’s already looking forward to it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]