Re: quicklog -- steph/dami: wayne manor.
You Waynes boys and your stoicism. [And that was a jab not only at him and his father, but the adopted Waybe boys, too. Even Dick, in his own way, though his was usually covered by his bombastic personality. (And Stephanie had a similar disposition.) She hadn't forgotten about their inclination to being withdrawn, but reunions tended to cloud her memories in favor of the thrill of the moment. So she grinned a little easier at him, even if it as weird. Even if some things weren't clicking into place at the moment. Even if a tiny part of her wanted nothing more than to run back to the dinosaurs and brave the Indominus Rex instead of a version of the baby bird that wasn't the young man she grew to love as her own brother.
Ingredients on the counter, she turned to look over her shoulder and smiled at Damian. It was easy to fall back into this. Yeah, he was a little shit, but he was here, and he was alive, and he didn't hate her. Over the preceding years, she'd tried so hard not to think of the last time she saw Damian (a Damian, she reminded herself -- this one wasn't the same one that was here before, after all) or how badly they had left it. This one? At least he didn't hate her. So yeah, she smiled, and she shook her head before going right to the cabinet underneath where the coffee machine rested and pulled out a beautiful, expensive cast-iron pan. Amused.] Not Alfred's fault. He hasn't been around here for a while. If he saw the state this place -- or this family -- was in? He would have a heart attack.
[She went to another overhead cabinet and grabbed a large mixing bowl before she heard Damian's fussing over her wounds. She tried to wave him off, but a voice in the back of her head told her he was right. Signing deeply, she pushed the metal bowl off to the side and pulled herself up on the counter with the ease of a woman who clearly was still in good shape. And maybe there should have been some hesitation, but she was so exhausted and so hungry and had no fight left in her. There was a couple of ugly gashes on her legs, and plenty of scratches and cuts on her arms from angry shrubbery and even angrier dinosaurs.] I don't know if I trust your medical judgment, Wayne. [A grin, something cheeky and warm and clearly teasing. If anything, she would walk him through it.]