#when i have money again LOL i spent all my allowance on books and umbrellas

[vammieposts]

HE LIVES!!! MY BELOVED CRESTURE

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Seven: Encounter

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Seven: Encounter

Note: Today's chapter is going to be a little shorter because 1) I'm tired and busy doing things with my family 2) I'm planning the beach arc (lol) and 3) because it's an intermission chapter. Things are going to really kick off after the beach arc. I'm having a blast working on the new parts of the story, so stay tuned for more to come in the future!

(-~-)

Capulet was far from a 24/7 city, the metropolis somehow managing to maintain a quiet village-like appeal despite being very populus. It had it's rougher areas that most well meaning people didn't venture into such as the docks and the factory district, and no self respecting citizen would be caught dead (or alive) near the street that the Devil May Cry office called home, but it was still a relatively peaceful place when demons weren't wandering up the streets in search of human blood. 

Despite this, or perhaps as a direct result of it, most places didn't stay open exceedingly late due to the suspicious activities that tended to occur at night that they could now confidently confirm was demonic in nature. People spoke in hushed tones about the shadows they jumped at in the dark as if speaking too loud would seal their citie's fate and it would instantaneously become the next Redgrave City. It was no secret that everyone in the region feared another large scale demon attack. After all, there had been three in the last two decades, four if they counted the Savior incident in Fortuna. Thankfully, the general public on the mainland didn't know much about what had happened that day, but there was one thing they did know. 

Each attack was worse than the last. 

And they were becoming more frequent.

In spite of it all, the bay area was still vibrant and full of life. They were cautious, but they refused to let the constant terror they lived in keep them down. There just wasn't as much of a nightlife scene as some would like. But things really came alive during the day. And this morning was no different. Certain places were a mecca of activity and the small coffee shop that Nico had just pulled up in front of was most certainly one of them. Even from inside of the van, the young gunsmith could see that there were at least a dozen people inside of the shop, although only a few were actually in line. Most were sitting at a table enjoying their meals and beverages or capitalizing on the free wifi. And she was here to join them. In all honesty, she couldn't remember the last time she had gone to a coffee shop. She didn't even really drink it that often at Nero's place. Kyrie was more of a tea person, so she tended to drink whatever they had on hand if she drank anything at all. For the first time in while, she was just going to relax and enjoy a hot drink in peace. 

Nico hopped down from her seat and closed the van door, turning her attention to the front entrance of the shop. The mist had transformed into actual rain, and she wasn't keen on being soaked all the way down to her underwear. As she hurried over towards the door, she made a mental note to acquire an umbrella and toss it into the back of the van at her earliest convenience. 

She slipped in behind someone who was exiting the building, ducking stealthiy behind them as they headed towards their car. As soon as the door closed and she turned towards the counter, a wave of warm, pleasant smelling air hit her. It was a combination of different coffees and a few baked treats that they kept behind the counter, cinnamon and spices hitting her square in the tastebuds. She was now woefully hungry and it showed. As she repressed the urge to allow a puddle of drool to form at her feet, she migrated over towards the line. There was only one person in front of her, which meant that she was in the express lane to receive a tasty treat. But how to pick one? bagels, cakes, cookies, crosaunts… it all looked delectable, and every moment she didn't have one sitting on a plate in front of her felt like an eternity of unfair punishment bestowed upon her by an angry god. She needed to correct that immediately.

"Ma'am, would you like to place an order?"

Nico glanced up at the barista and nodded in affirmation, somewhat distracted by the number of choices presented to her. At this juncture, she would settle for any regular coffee. But she was going to have a hard time picking one of these tasty desserts. The young smiled politely, seemingly amused by her lack of ability to pick.

"If I might interject, that blueberry pomegranate cheese danish is one of my favorites. I get it everytime I come here." A voice behind her said quietly. The deeper timbre was distinctly male in origin, and there was a certain melodious, almost somber, tint to their voice. They spoke as though they were putting a great amount of consideration or effort into something very minor, and she couldn't help but notice. This was mostly due to the fact that they were looming over her, although not standing overly close.

Before she could turn to face the individual in question, they stood up and faced the counter, handing the cashier an undisclosed amount of money before receiving a knowing look from the young woman running the register and reaching for a to go bag that was being handed to them from behind the counter. "One of these days you have to try something else on the menu! Seriously, you come in here like clockwork and always get the same thing. Doesn't that get old?"

"I enjoy the unpredictability of predictability," the hooded man said flatly, waiving off her attempt to pass him back his change and sparing a glance at Nico as she looked at him curiously," Please, keep the change. The young woman's order is on me. Thank you."

The young woman looked almost horrified, signaling to Nico that he had more than likely given her a sizable sum of money. The dark haired woman turned to confront him, taken totally off guard by his random act of generosity. "Um, thanks but I've got it covered. You don't gotta do that."

He nodded, turning towards the door with his order. He still hadn't taken the change. "Oh, I'm well aware of that. But I chose to. After I leave, you can choose to accept my offer or not. But why not benefit from the kindness of a stranger? It's not every day that I do something like this."

Before Nico could say anything further, the taller man slipped out of the front door, leaving her to make her decision. She considered going after him for a moment before going with her gut and staying put. Something told her that he was already long gone. She didn't even need to go over to the door and look. Nico spent enough time around abnormal people to be able to tell that sort of thing.

With a sigh, she shook her head briefly and then turned her attention back towards the counter. He made a valid point. Why turn down free food? "You know what? Sure, whatever! I'll take whatever that guy that just left had. For here, though. I'm not going back out there for a while. It's warm in here."

(-~-)

Magnolia jotted down a final set of notes before closing the notepad that she held in her hands and setting it down on the table in front of her, taking the opportunity to eat a fork full of tiramisu. She spared a glance towards V who was quietly doing the same. They were only mid way through their conversation, but she felt that she understood him leagues better than she had before he had arrived. While he had presented himself as a sort of closed book type at first, she was gradually realizing that he actually had quite a bit of rich internal dialogue that was just beneath the surface, ready to be shared if given the opportunity. He answered when spoken to and never gave her a hard time about any of the questions she'd asked him, most being cursory medical questions. But she felt it was time to change the subject. The last thing she wanted was for this visit to turn into something clinical and strenuous. While much of what he'd told her had been intriguing and she'd have to look into it after he left, she didn't want to overwhelm him. After all, he had to leave here with the desire to return at a later date.

"So, enough of that, then. Tell me a little bit more about yourself," She said as she reached for her glass of tea. She needed to wash down her snack." Do you have any hobbies or passions? Anything pique your interest at all? You seem like the intellectual sort, after all."

V shifted slightly, his prolonged sitting session starting to take a toll on his uncooperative back. "Not anymore. At least not of late."

The botanist gave him a curious look, sitting back in her seat and folding her arms. "What did you used to do? You can't expect me to believe that you don't possess any sort of talent at all, now can you?"

An almost impresevable smile slowly snuck it's way across V's face for a brief moment as he tilted his head to the side, the young summoner reminiscing on one of the few pleasant memories he had clung to all this time. "... I used to be instrumentally inclined when I was younger. At one point…" V trailed off for a second, seemingly second guessing his decision to share this sort of information with her,"... Are you going to-" Magnolia shook her head, already knowing what he was probably going to say. She gave him a playful shove, not so much trying to push him as she was trying playing with him. "Oh, hush now. You're not that old! Nothing you say leaves this house. We've all done silly things in our youth. Nothing to fear, dear."

V slumped slightly as he glanced in the opposite direction. He looked almost embarrassed. He glanced at her for a moment before breaking eye contact again. prefering to stare out of the open window just to the side of her. "I played the violin for a long time and wrote poetry. For a while I restored books as a hobby and..." He glanced down, very clearly flushing slightly as he tried to force himself to say whatever was on his mind,"... I was talked into dance lessons for a year or so by someone I knew at the time. I'm told I was… decent..."

The middle aged alchemist nearly choked on her tea as V let slip his secret shame, repressing the urge to giggle imaturely and go wide eyed. He was quite the multi talented young man, wasn't he? The idea of him dancing was supremely entertaining to her and she made a mental note to try and talk him into giving her a demo sometime in the near future. 

"I take back everything I said. You are old," She said with a pleasant laugh, nodding in approval," If I might, I'd like to pass your contact information along to a colleague. Book restoration is actually quite the useful skill in my trade. I know some people who would pay quite the hefty sum for your assistance."

He considered her offer for a moment before nodding. Yes, that seemed agreeable enough to him. "I can't make any promises. It's been some time since I've worked on anything."

Magnolia smiled, picking up her notepad again and flipping it open to jot down a few notes. This had been an eye opening conversation. "I wouldn't expect you to, dear," She said simply as she scribbled something down on her notepad," But I'd absolutely love to hear you play the violin sometime. I bet you're quite good at it."

V pales, the flush in his cheeks fleeing him like courage in the mists of battle. "Again, I make no promises…"

She stood up and walked towards the kitchen, intent on grabbing something else before they continued. She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder before proceeding, hoping to calm his nerves. Although he seemed calm and collected, it didn't take a genius to see that he was flustered. "Just keep being you, dear. That's all I ask of you."

(-~-)

Thanks for checking out this chapter! The beach trip is nearly upon us, and I can't wait to hear from you all again! Have fun and stay safe!

[itispossibleihaveissues]

Another Perfect Catastrophe -2

Another Perfect Catastrophe -2

(yes, already, lol)

AUTHOR: Mikimoo PAIRING: JayDick RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Non Consensual drug use, Non Consensual touching, Non Consensual kissing, humour, slight mayhem

SUMMARY: Dick goes undercover as himself in order to catch a gang of international thieves. Jason reluctantly tags along as his long suffering bodyguard. During the ensuing mayhem they get to know each other again and build a few bridges.

Thank you to burkesl17 for the beta!

Notes: An embarrassingly long time ago, the amazing and very, very talented Pentapus invited me to do a reverse bang style exchange, and drew me an amazing prompt. I have no idea how this story was the one that emerged from the many options I had, but such is the creative process I guess! Anyhoo, many thanks to Pentapus for both encouragement and patience, and of course the incredible art! (which will be included at the end of the appropriate chapter)

Chapter 1

It was raining when they landed at Heathrow, and it continued to drizzle in a sad grey mist as their car finally entered the city. It didn't exactly put Jason in a party mood, but at least the hotel was conveniently located. And as fancy as all hell.

Their suit was outrageously opulent of course, with grand furnishings and a layout that was twice the size of Jason's Gotham pad, bigger even than Dick's beat down Bludhaven apartment. The living area was just oozing money and the master bedroom had a huge bed with almost offensively busy wallpaper. Dick seemed thrilled with the ugly swirling pattern and threw himself down on the bed, practically disappearing into the huge pile of pillows.

Jason left him to it and headed over to inspect his adjourning room. To his relief it was slightly more to his taste, less chaotically decorated – more in line with the expensive hotels Bruce favored. For all his many, many faults, Bruce had impeccable taste, in Jason's opinion. Except when it came to women and orphans. How he had raised Dick, a man so completely lacking in personal style he was practically a walking advert for color blindness, was a mystery.

He dumped his case on the bed and inspected what horrors Dick had packed for him; three Captain America T-shirts – funny Dick, real funny. And a Winter Soldier one, which was just rude. The rest of the shirts and pants were reasonable. And the underwear was ridiculous, how he had found every possible variety of Justice League boxers in such a short time was a testament to his inventive ability and vindictive nature.

The pyjamas had little Nightwing symbols on them. Dick clearly thought he was some kind of comedian.

There was a complimentary bottle of champagne on the table in the living room, as well as a brochure for free treatments at the spar and use of the pool and gym. How the other half lived. Although he had enjoyed life at the manor for a few short years he had never really adjusted to the idea of being rich, and displays of excessive wealth got his back up. Why, if you thought nothing of paying $1,000 for a bottle of bubbly, could you not give the same for the homeless kids eking out a living in the Narrows? At least Bruce funded projects and education for the disadvantaged in Gotham. Jason bet most of the shmucks who stayed in these rooms didn't even spare a thought.

All of the positive thoughts about Bruce were very unnerving, so he went to see if he could pick a fight with Dick to take his mind off things.

Dick was asleep, sprawled over the ugly, expensive green bedspread, sunglasses dangling from his fingers and his beautifully coiffured hair a mess on the pillow. His mouth was slightly open and there was a smear of drool on his cheek. He looked like a dope, a ridiculously attractive dope. Maybe because he was much easier to deal with when he was asleep.

 Jason was reading in the sitting room when Dick finally woke and wandered in, dishevelled and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry, Jay,” he said, flopping into a plush armchair with more grace than was really fair. “Travelling really takes it out of me.”

Jason grunted and tried not to remember how long he had spent staring at Dick's dumb sleeping face. “Do you have a plan of action, or were you just planning to reel them in with excessive laziness?” he growled.

Dick ignored his combative tone and stretched like a cat, yawning and flexing. “I thought we could check online for some good spots to hit, maybe start with drinks at the bar here to get the lay of the land and then go paint the town red?”

“And we’re going to get noticed I take it?” 

“Yeah, money, party's, outrageous behavior, the works.”

“Sounds like fun.” Jason said dryly. It might be fun if he was the one getting to be the party animal, rather than the muscle that stood around looking scary and stopping his charge from doing anything too damaging to his reputation. Still, it might also give him a few good opportunities to watch Dick make a fool of himself, and he never turned down those.

 The hotel bar was beautiful, and their choice of whisky was extensive. Jason eyed the bottles with a certain amount of yearning as Dick took a seat and picked up the drinks menu. He would probably choose something horrible and insipid.

“You have a thing about scotch, don't you?” Dick asked. Jason was surprised, they had never discussed such things except for that time when Jason had got horribly drunk sneaking booze from Bruce's drinks cabinet when he was fifteen. He had thought Dick would tattle on him, but he had just grinned and said that it was something of a right of passage to debase Bruce's fancy alcohol. Dick had slapped Jason's shoulder as he wobbled around the pool table, and then told him not to choke to death when the inevitable vomiting happened. And although he had refused to allow Jason to drink any more, he had stayed all night, just to make sure he survived to endure his hangover the next morning.

“I do,” Jason ventured.

“Let’s get some then, we can't get drunk obviously, but we can have a taste or two before dinner. What do you want?”

Jason scanned the menu while Dick took a casual look around the bar. As they were on Bruce's dime, he was going to have to go for something outrageously expensive. Perhaps the 21 year Old Poultney or a Bruichladdich Octomore.

“You order, we're in luck,” Dick murmured, rising out of his chair with the lean grace of a panther and heading towards an older man in a sharp suit. He reached out and shook the guy’s hand while the man eyed him curiously.

By the time Dick came back Jason had sipped thoughtfully at both drinks, making a mental record of each for the tasting notes he would deny keeping with his dying breath.

Dick looked a little unenthusiastic as he eyed the glasses. “No ice?”

“No, Dick. No ice.”

Dick sipped at the Octomore and made a comically disgusted face – a motion that caught the attention of the waiter.

“Everything to your satisfaction, sir?” he asked.

“Yes thanks,” Dick said, still eyeing his drink with a vague expression of offence. “Can I get a coke to go in that?”

“Of course sir.” the waiter said, with a barely perceptible pause. Jason felt the emotion behind the blank veneer of politeness was one of both scorn for the stupid heathen who would do such a thing to a good scotch, and silent anguish for the destruction of a single malt that probably cost as much as a day’s pay.

“God-sakes, just get him a JD and coke, don't sully the good stuff,” Jason said, unable to watch any more, and pulling the drink towards himself protectively.

The waiter looked at Dick who smiled up at him with guileless enthusiasm, “Actually, do you have cocktails? Maybe a strawberry margarita?”

“Of course, sir.” The waiter shot Jason a look of pity before heading to the bar.

“Dick, you are an embarrassment to mankind. An embarrassment to Bruce and his wonderful collection of world whiskeys, and an embarrassment to me.”

Dick stared at him. Jason returned the look, suddenly doubting himself.

“Oh my God, Jason,” Dick grinned at him with the most honest and open expression Jason had seen on his face in forever. “You're a whisky snob!”

“I am not! I just have standards.” Jason couldn't help but feel he had laid himself open in some way. But he was simultaneously enthralled by the expression on Dick's face and pleased for being the one to put it there, as baffling as it was.

“You were the same way about books as a kid, do you remember? So opinionated, you would argue anyone into the floor about whatever you were reading, whether you liked it or not.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Jason said, sullenly. “My teacher hated me, said it was disruptive to disagree with him.”

“Your teacher was an idiot,” Dick sniffed. “Bruce didn't shy away from telling him so, either.”

“I had forgotten that.” He had blocked so many memories out, so he only remembered the bad. It hurt less that way, but it probably wasn't doing him any favors. Suddenly uncomfortable he desperately wanted to change the subject. “Who was that man you were with?” he asked, hoping Dick would take the bait.

“Jerry Peters, he's a guy who knows people,” Dick said, vaguely. “He meets with another guy we might want to connect with who can get us into parties.”

“Fortuitous we met him then,” Jason said dryly.

“Forward planning, and a dash of luck.” Dick sipped smugly at his cocktail, thankfully it had been served in a very respectable looking glass and not in the monstrosity of umbrellas and nonsense Jason had been anticipating. He suspected Dick ordered stuff like that on purpose to get a rise out of him. Maybe, he was really a stylish guy with a sophisticated palette, and only pretended to be a walking embarrassment as some sort of self depreciating bonding mechanism.

Probably not though.

“Here's our guy,” Dick said, without turning.

He was a well dressed white man, approaching fifty and trying to look fifteen years younger, he greeted Peters with a nod and a brisk handshake and they bent their heads together to talk, glancing across the bar towards them. “Looks like you made an impression,” Jason said. “Your man's heading over.”

“Cool,” Dick smiled like a shark and unsubtly tangled one of his legs with Jason's, something that would be clearly visible to the approaching man.

“Hello, I'm sorry to interrupt,” the guy said, as he arrived at their table.

“No problem,” Dick withdrew his leg from where it was resting against Jason's and radiating heat.

“My names Ed Garner,” He reached out at shook Dick's hand.

“Richard Grayson,” Dick said, with a smile that was less sparkly than Jason had anticipated. Apparently this job called for arrogant rather than outright friendly.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Garner said with a smarmy smile of his own. “I know of you of course, you're Bruce Wayne's boy.”

The fact that he said boy rather than son was not lost on either of them, and Jason could see a glint of steel behind Dick's answering smirk. “That's right,” he said.

Jason wasn't sure if he was imagining the slight leer in Garner’s expression, but he knew he wasn't missing the significance of the brief look Garner had given their intertwined legs.

“Are you here for business or pleasure?” Garner asked.

“Pleasure,” Dick practically purred the word, his eyes flicking towards Jason and back to Garner “It's been a long time since I've been to Europe, I felt it was time to see the sights.” He made it sound like those sights were pornographic in nature. Jason was proud of how impassive he managed to keep his expression under the full force of Dick's sex voice.

“If you're looking for entertainment while you're in London, I arrange events. There's a party tonight, and one tomorrow at a hot new club – very exclusive, are you interested? I can get you on the list for both without a problem,” Garner said.

“And my bodyguard?” Dick's face was polite, but Jason felt he could sense the dislike oozing off him. Whether Garner could also sense that was irrelevant – he was interested in hooking a hot rich guy to attend his party, and that was it.

“Of course,” he gave Jason a once over that lingered on his biceps, practically bulging out of the ridiculous t-shirt Dick had given him. Jason was not particularly comfortable with the expression on the guy’s face, but a small part of himself, which he hated with a low key intensity, was kind of thrilled that he was someone people thought Dick Grayson was banging. He was slightly disgusted with himself that this was the kind of bullshit his crappy self-esteem was based on.

“That would be great. Send me the details, I'll give you my email.” Dick handed the man a card and then turned back to Jason, completely dismissing Garner in the rudest way possible. “Have you ever had oysters? They have good ones here, I think and maybe a bottle of the good stuff.” He waved at the waiter, leaving Garner to awkwardly smile and leave, returning to his friend at the bar.

Dick ordered them the oysters, which Jason had attempted to eat before, and disliked intensely. Although watching Dick delicately squish lemon onto them and then swallow the slimy little suckers was inexplicably filling Jason's head with bad thoughts. This mission was going to be a potentially embarrassing one, he could tell. Especially if all his pants were as tight as the ones he was currently wearing.

Dick's arrogant playboy persona seemed to work though and within five minutes of Garner leaving their table he had emailed them details of his parties. One in Mayfair, and another in Soho.

“We going to head to this place then?” Jason asked. He had it up on google maps, it wasn't that far to walk and Jason was quite keen to see a bit of the city, especially as it seemed to have finally stopped raining. They would have to probably get a cab though, for show.

“Nah, we just needed this guys attention, we should play hard to get, we don't want to seem too keen. Let’s stay in tonight, do a bit of research and lay a bit of ground work.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Jason said in the most provocative way he knew how. He was extremely gratified to see an expression of surprise flitter over Dick's face and the slight darkening of his eyes.

 'Laying the ground work' turned out to involve being as obnoxious a hotel guest as possible, mostly by ordering extravagant food and playing very loud gay porn on the 72 inch TV in the suites lounge. Dick seemed to both be enjoying himself and feeling guilty over the hassle he was causing the poor staff. It was quite funny to watch him struggle between the two very different feelings.

“Just tip them really, really well – a bonus will make up for the trouble. And it’s giving them something to talk about. Your name is already popping up on gossip sites, I'm sure by the end of tonight you'll have the start of a good scandal,” Jason said.

Dick grinned and placed an order for Mojito flavored condoms with more eagerness than was really appropriate. “We could always give the gossips a nudge, too.” 

Jason found himself grinning back.

Tarnishing Dick’s name on the Internet turned out to be very entertaining. And as they weren't going out on the town, Jason had treated himself to another scotch and was feeling pretty mellow. His headphones blocked out the porn and he had just started a fight on ONTD over whether Richard Grayson was Bi or just Gay for Pay. He sort of understood why people like Lex Luthor kept trying to take over the world; orchestrating mayhem was fun. He was also amused that Bruce and Dick seemed to have a bunch of sock puppet accounts on social media for just this sort of thing. Bruce on LiveJournal was almost as funny as Bruce on Tumblr.