Who: Dinah Lance & Steph Nashton
What: Mentor/mentee bonding. Otherwise known as drunk.
Warnings: There will be a bar, there will presumably be bad language.
[Gotham didn't clean up easy. It took time, and it would take a glazier to fix the mess of her front store window which was board and tape and a prayer no one would think peonies were worth a smash and grab again. She was lousy at cleaning and the peonies were for a wedding some poor girl had picked out the Florist Shop to handle. But the wail of sirens was practically atmospheric and she didn't have to think about flower arrangements until the absolute last minute.
She made her best bad decisions in bars like these. Floors a little sticky, maybe a couple balls missing from the pool tables, but the bartenders left you the hell alone and there were no frothy, slushy ice-drinks, just hard liquor and beer. Who the hell had let Stephanie grow up and get married, she didn't know, but it was the best kind of bad decision to drink to. No fishnets: it was a night off and she wore jeans that showed everything the fishnets would usually and supple black leather, soft as if it had been beaten to death. She was heels over floorboards and she ordered tequila and it burned its way down her throat, the good and warm hard heat, as the door swayed and smacked back into place again.]