Dick Grayson has too many siblings (onatightrope) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-10-28 09:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, dick grayson (nightwing), zatanna zatara |
Who:Dick and zee
What:serious talks
When:Recently
Where:her place
Rating/warning:low/none
STATUS:complete
Dick wasn’t sure of many things lately, but he knew one thing. He was unhappy being a cop recently and something had to give. He couldn’t keep going on autopilot with that kind of job, or he’d get himself or someone else killed. He’d already proved he’d lost touch with what was going on around him when Raven was struggling and he didn’t have any clue until things boiled over. He didn’t want that to happen again. He’d loved this job for a long time, but now there was something else he loved. He just wasn’t sure it was the right choice, he liked being a cop. He didn’t like being unable to balance things with it and have family or friends lost due to it.
It was a difficult thing for him to decide. He always thought he’d move up through the ranks, maybe at least make detective before this happened. Yet there it was, black and blue suit giving him an alternative and a secondary job staring him in the face..
He kept his word with his time frame and showed up at Zee’s doorstep, dressed in casual clothing, badge down off the side of his belt. He usually changed at the station if he needed to Some days casual was best. he knocked at her door and waited.
Ever since Zatanna ran into Maleficent at the Middle Eastern market, she had falafel on the brain. Also, cooking tended to calm her mind - in addition to meditating - so that’s why she was in the kitchen whipping up a batch of the infamous balls, something she’d promised her new friend. She’d go to Breadcrumbs with a container of them, and even add the dipping sauces she liked best - the tahini sauce for sure, but also hummus and maybe a hot chili sauce as well. Give the woman some variety.
The knock came as she was mashing the ingredients in a bowl, and she set down everything, wiped her hands on a towel, and went to go answer. Maybe Dick would stay long enough to be the taste tester; she knew he was coming over, but had no idea what was on his mind. Hopefully something good - though ‘big’ could mean good or bad.
“Well, hello. Come inside, Dick,” she greeted him, pushing back dark hair that had fallen in her face. Ever the gracious hostess - her house likely gave off the scent of her usual incense spices, but also cumin and coriander. “Can I get you anything?”
He was assaulted with the amazing mixture of spices when he stepped inside. It was a little weird having to knock and all that now, but they weren’t together he couldn’t just show up without at least a little warning-so he was trying. He missed he though. It hadn’t been long but he’d gotten so comfortable with the idea that she was going to be around a while, it was just odd. Jarred him out of his comfort zone really
“Hey, nah. I’m good.” He hadn’t eaten yet, but mostly this big thing that had been hanging over his head had caused his appetite to fade temporarily. Though the Middle Eastern aroma had piqued his interest. “Cooking? Is that what I think it is?” He was no stranger to her signature balls. He tried not to look too eager for them though.
Zatanna chuckled huskily, heading back to the kitchen - where she pulled out a chair so Dick could sit at the little table she had set up there. It was small, the space, but comforting to her and as Moroccan-inspired as the rest of her home - bright mosaic tiles lined on the walls, light blue cabinets with gold knobs; she liked it quite a bit. “Might be,” she teased, but with all the ingredients laid out and the frying pan ready, well. Probably obvious.
“I promise you’ll have some,” she said, reaching for the flour in her pantry. “But first tell me what’s on your mind.” Zee was willing to listen. She’d always been good at that, in her ‘quiet strength’ sort of way.
Part of him wondered if his place would ever be as comfortable as hers was, but somehow he doubted it. A lot of it had to do with who exactly was in the home. Or not in it in his case. He leaned his arm on the table, for a moment spacing out. He was just glad things were starting to get back to normal between them and he could talk to her again. “Teasing me with food is just cruel you know.” He mused as he had indeed spotted those familiar ingredients. He didn’t know all of them, but he did recognize them from before. He gave her an all too innocent grin at that response, he’d obviously missed her cooking, the only thing he’d been looking forward to was take out on the way to work again.
“I think I wanna quit the Force.” All Dick had known since he was old enough to be one was police work. He had other ideas for work now though, but he wasn’t entirely sure they were his or his dreams plans for him, if it was the later he wasn’t sure he wanted to give in.
Well, now that was a bomb dropped. Zatanna lifted one sleek eyebrow - she felt like she needed a glass of wine for this conversation, or perhaps something stronger to sip on while she cooked. It was why she went to the bar and fetched the crystal decanter of Țuică, a potent plum brandy, and poured herself a measure of it in a glass. She also left everything on the table in case Dick wanted to partake as well.
“You haven’t been happy with the work lately.” It was a statement, not a question - the lack of sleep and complete lack of taking care of himself was partly due to career dissatisfaction, she was sure of that. “A change of pace might be good for you. What do you think you’ll do instead?”
A drink wouldn’t hurt, Dick reached for what was left out and tipped the glass he’d filled part way. “Cheers.” He wasn’t sure to what, but it was a habit. The fruity flavor was a nice change of pace compared to his normal beer. It was sweet without being overpowering. It was nice. He swirled the liquid in the glass idly for a moment before looking up at the question.
“I’m not sure, but I’m tired of being burnt out and watching the fruits of my labor slip through the cracks of the system. I’m tired of living out of lockers and training rooms.” He’d been going like this since he transferred in and it was obvious there wasn’t going to be a break on him any time soon. Sure his workload had recently lessened, but it still wasn’t leaving him any room to find a balanced life. “My neighbor didn’t even know my name yesterday and I’ve lived in that apartment for almost eight months now.” That was when it’d dawned on him that he needed something different. His own neighbors didn’t know him and it left an unsettling feeling in his stomach.
Cheers to good health, good fortune, and prosperous career moves? That’s what Zatanna took from it, anyway. She listened to Dick’s explanation, humming in thought as she bustled about to finish making her falafel balls - shaping them, dipping them in flour, and then into the frying pan they went. And the tempting smell increased tenfold.
“This is the right move, then. I knew something would give way eventually,” she said. “Whatever happens, I know you’ll figure it out. There’s no sense in feeling like you’re spinning your wheels at work, especially since we all spend a good bit of time at our jobs.” It was important to love what you did - that really improved quality of life, at least in her opinion.
“I thought I’d always want to be a cop, but..” Lately it’d gotten beyond the point of frustrating. The late hours, the lack of social life.There were still aspects he enjoyed, but it wasn’t really enough to keep him there. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.” He had people who depended on him still, but he hadn’t been happy for a while there.
“Until the other day I hadn’t even been home in four days.” He mused at her comment of being at work frequently and then eyed the food making an attempt not to stare but failing miserably. “You’re killing me here you know?” He grinned a little toothy grin a his stomach reacted, growling at the scent.
Zee was glad that he was coming to these realizations. When she’d been with Dick, it was difficult to build a relationship around his work schedule. He always did too much (she had loved him, but love didn’t magically fix prioritizing problems) - so, finally burning out, in a sense, would be the kick in the ass that he needed, and she was glad for it. These were the type of realizations he needed to come to on his own, anyway.
“You won’t let anyone down,” she reminded him gently. “You have to take care of yourself, you know. People will understand that.” Oh, and alright, she’d feed that hungry boy - he was practically drooling where he sat, not that she blamed him.
Freshly-made falafels on a plate, she slid it to him at the table. “At least let them cool a little, Grayson,” the Mistress of Magic smirked.
Unfortunately he’d realized that too late to save their relationship. He’d been in a slump ever since then though, and was starting to see things connecting finally He would still worry about others of course, it was just in his DNA to do so, he wasn’t like Bruce in that regard, he couldn’t just shut off his ability to care. He’d just need to find another way to do so.
“I hope you’re right..” He gave her a small smile. It was settled, he was going to put in his notice and there was very little that anyone could do to sway his mind at this point. He was already reaching for one in spite of the warning “Ah, hot!” but he grinned anyway. They still tasted amazing, totally worth the burnt tongue.