Using Your Noodle Who: Cassandra Wayne and Doug Ramsey Where: Doug's place, Gotham City, NJ When: (Backdated) January 16th, 8pm-ish. What: Cassandra and Doug attempt a normal dinner. No masks, just spaghetti. And possibly awkwardness about this thing called normal. Rating: PG.
No amount of martial arts discipline could prepare Cassandra for how nervous she was.
Precautions had been made, of course. She was dropped off outside Leslie Thompkins' Park Row Clinic in a nondescript car from Bruce Wayne's motorpool. She was wearing casual clothing and a hairstyle that at first glance would be difficult to identify her as the same girl whose image had graced newspapers and websites the world over. She was even moving differently, hoping that would throw off the paparazzi. And even if she was identified as Cassandra Wayne, well, clearly she was going to visit Leslie Thompkins' Clinic to visit the friend of the Wayne family.
And she did just that. There wasn't much small talk exchanged between her and Leslie, at least outwardly. Leslie asked about how things were and Cassandra gave one-word answers, but the real conversation happened in the glances the two of them exchanged. Leslie was a grandmaster in the art of reading people, and while she didn't have Doug's gift or Bruce or the sheer familiarity Bruce, Barbara, or Alfred could claim, Leslie knew Cass well enough to read her like a book. So while not a word was said out loud about the young man Cass was about to go upstairs to visit, silently the two were discussing the subject in detail.
After the usual warning about taking precautions, and that not every visit to Doug needed to end in sex -- Cass assured Leslie that she was, and that not all of them did -- Cass sprinted up the stairs.
Standing outside Doug's door, Cassandra looked down at what she was wearing. Her casual clothes were okay, weren't they? It was just spaghetti. She didn't need to dress up, right? Was her hair okay? Maybe she should've worn just a little bit of makeup? How formal was this date supposed to be? Should she have brought a present? Maybe another handful of arcade tokens; he always seemed amused by them.
Breathe.
She stopped pacing -- she hadn't realized she'd been pacing -- and took a deep, cleansing breath. Which was probably a mistake because she smelled the spaghetti dinner, and now her stomach was growling and fluttering.
Cassandra raised her fist to the door, preparing to rap lightly but firmly with her knuckles. Then she spotted the doorbell. Should she ring that? She was so used to coming in through his window. Should she try that more familiar entrance?
She had sprinted upstairs with a few minutes to spare, but her indecision at Doug's door was making her five minutes late, then ten....