Hi, I'm Neon, and this is my writing blog! Where I occasionally post ficlets, bullet point 'what if' lists, oc drabbles, and any other arbitrary thoughts that happen to cross my mind. Main: highly-opinionated-nerd. Ao3: HighlyOpinionatedNerd
One thing I actually really like about Bleach is the recurring theme that a person's character never really changes. Their surroundings and/or the circumstances they find themselves in might change drastically- a couple decades or even a hundred years might go by- but even then they mostly act the same as they always have. I'm rewatching the Turn Back the Pendulum part right now, which is a great example of what I'm talking about.
And throughout the rest of it, you'll find some characters that start off as enemies whose personal principles and sense of honor lead them to allying themselves with the main characters instead. And there are also a few enemies who are so hard-wired for fighting and/or independence that they rebel against their various bad guy organizations, which technically should mean that they are on the same side as the main characters, but they'll still act the same antagonistic way towards them.
(The only character I can think of who doesn't really fit in with that idea is Unohana)
(early-canon Isshin and Ryuken conversation (sort of a follow up to this))
"Hello, Kurosaki Clinic, how can I help you?"
"You have to make them stop."
"Oh. Hello to you too, Ishida."
"More and more people are coming in to the hospital with mysterious and seemingly unexplainable injuries all the time, Kurosaki. But you and I both know the explanation, don't we, the explanation is increased hollow activity."
"Well, technically-"
"And the soul reapers apparently aren't doing much to take care of it! In fact, whoever they've got on it has got to be the worst this town has ever seen in terms of collateral damage!"
"Ishida-"
"So, I don't know if it's that ludicrous mad scientist shopkeeper and his band of misfits, or that commune of exiles in the warehouse across town, but whichever one of them is to blame for this, go make them put an end to it."
Isshin sighed heavily.
"First of all, you overestimate my ability to tell any of those people what to do. Second of all, I don't think it has to do with them."
"Well, who, then?"
"I don't know! Need I remind you that I'm not exactly in the loop of what Soul Society knows and what they're doing anymore! Hell, I don't even have powers anymore, I haven't properly sensed a hollow in years!"
Ryuken sighed, too.
"I don't want Uryuu to get involved," he said with quiet intensity. "But he's not going to be able to leave it alone. He's prideful, and competitive, and curious, and a teenager, and he's going to get himself hurt."
"I know how you feel, but-"
"He doesn't know what he doesn't know, Kurosaki, and I won't be able to keep him out of it forever if this carries on."
"I know, damnit. How do you think I feel? Urahara thinks Ichigo is already involved, and he doesn't know anything."
"...Your son is?"
"So I've been told. He hasn't said anything to me. I mean... I wanted so badly to give him a normal human life before the time came and I had to tell him but... I don't know. Urahara thinks it's too late now."
"I thought you said the lunatic wasn't involved!"
"He's not at fault. I think."
"Kurosaki, our sons are classmates. If Ichigo is part of this, it's only a matter of time before Uryuu is, as well. If he isn't already."
"Yeah, that's fair."
"So we need to put a stop to it."
"Look, man... I get it, I get trying to protect your son, but I don't know what you want from me, Ishida. If it were twenty years ago, I could do something, sure, but now..."
"There has to be something. People are in danger."
"I know. Urahara asked me to trust him."
"Well, all well and good if you do, but I don't. He hasn't done anything in the last who even knows how long, and what we need right now is action."
"......I've been talking to Engetsu again."
"Who?"
"My zanpakuto."
"The sword talks?"
"Yeah. Well, not for a long time, but I'm trying to find him again and wrangle him back to working with me again. It doesn't have to make sense to you, ok, just take my word for it. I'm trying."
Ryuken was silent for a long moment.
"I trust you more than Urahara," he said eventually, "but even if you do manage to miraculously become a soul reaper again, I'm not convinced that'll be enough."
"I knoooow, Ishida. But there's only so much I can do."
"Well, if no one else, go talk to your son and make him understand-"
"You first."
"...Touche."
"I do want to talk to him, I just... not now. It's not the right time."
"Well," Ryuken huffed, "go talk to your sword, instead, then. And do what you can. I'm doing my part at the hospital."
Isshin opened his mouth to promise to keep Ryuken updated if he learned anything new, but Ryuken abruptly hung up before he could, leaving Isshin alone with the growing fear that this whole situation was more serious than he could understand, the familiar helplessness that had lurked behind him at every turn since Masaki's death... and the growing determination to put the pieces together and do something about it.
I read a short story recently where one of the characters was, I kid you not, a peacemonger werewolf from atlantis. He was also cursed by an evil wizard.
While I know I will probably never be able to top that, it has inspired me to get back to creating what I call 'specialest boy in the world' characters. The wild kind of ocs that you used to make up when you were 12 and thought were the coolest thing ever. There's definitely a time and a place for telling relatable stories about relatable people, but I fear I will be in my over-the-top fantastical nonsense era until further notice
(Conversation between Isshin and Urahara set juuuuuust before Renji and Byakuya show up to drag Rukia back to Soul Society at the beginning of everything:)
It had gotten dark outside Isshin's window at some point, and he had hardly noticed. He was trying to type up a script for an upcoming presentation at a local medical conference, but he was having a hard time focusing, for some reason. There was some sort of jittery tension in the air that Isshin couldn't quite put his finger on, and it didn't help that Ichigo was out late again, somewhere out in it.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes and was just considering throwing in the towel and going to bed when he felt an unexpected breeze and heard an unexpected sound.
"Good evening, Kurosaki-san."
Urahara's voice. Familiar, friendly even, but a little foreboding nonetheless- Urahara coming directly to Isshin almost certainly meant bad news.
"Evening, Urahara," he said, as evenly as he could, turning towards the window and standing up. Sure enough, the ex-soul reaper sat there on the sill. "Come in, please."
"Thank you, but I don't plan on staying long. I just… I came with a word of warning."
"Ok. Warning about what, exactly?"
"There's been… activity lately. More hollows in the area, many more."
"I thought so," Isshin muttered under his breath. Even with only a human's dull spiritual senses to rely on, he had noticed the uptick in destructive accidents and unexplained injuries across town.
"And with more hollow activity comes more soul reaper activity."
"Naturally. So, what? Something else new going on that they can't explain, or handle?"
"Not quite."
"Well, what then? Why come here? Is someone after me, is that it?"
"No, Kurosaki-san, not you." Urahara sighed deeply, not quite making eye contact. "I'm afraid it's Ichigo they're after."
Isshin's heart sank like a stone.
"No," he said, struggling to remember how to breathe properly all of a sudden, "no, Urahara, that can't be right."
"I wouldn't be here if I weren't sure."
"No, it can't be! He's a child, Urahara, he's a fifteen year old human child! It's too soon for him to be… I haven't told him anything!"
"I know. I know it's hard to hear, but he's more than just a simple human child, and you know it. He always has been, and he was going to end up involved somehow, sooner or later."
Isshin rubbed his forehead with a shaking hand, fighting back a wave of panic.
"Who's after him? And why, what could he possibly know that would make him a target?"
"There is a soul reaper here in town who's been, ah, going through some difficulties with her powers. It's temporary, and she's been trying to do the right thing, but she's been working with Ichigo to help keep a lid on the hollow situati-"
"Working with Ichigo! How?! You mean he's already…?"
"Yes. He doesn't understand the situation fully, but he's beginning to get a grip on what he can do. He's a secondary target in this scenario, but they will come for her, and for him as well, and soon."
"I'll talk to them, then, I'll make them leave him alone!"
"Soul Society thinks you're dead," Urahara reminded him gently. "And we all agreed that that's for the better. Think of your daughters, Kurosaki-san."
"Fine, but what of my son? My boy, my first-born son, Urahara, I won't let-"
"I know. I know. I'm watching out for him, Kurosaki-san, I swear. But he's involved now, and there's nothing either of us can do to change that. We could try to stop him, but he'd find a way around us, you know that. He's in it, now."
Isshin took a shaky breath, blinking away tears. Urahara was right, and he knew that. Ichigo was always destined to end up involved. But it was too soon! And he was in it by himself, without any kind of explanation from Isshin, or Urahara, and there was no way Soul Society would show any kind of mercy or understanding to a human with what they viewed as unauthorized power.
Isshin hated the thought that this had been going on without him knowing. He had been happy in Karakura, away from Soul Society, but he was completely powerless now, and he had never resented it more.
"What can I do?" he asked quietly, helplessly.
"You've done plenty," Urahara said, smiling reassuringly. "He can hold his own in a fight. He has a good head on his shoulders. And he has good people around him. He's a good boy, Kurosaki-san."
"People, people like who? Oh, god, you mean Ryuken's kid?"
"They've met, yes. But there are others. People who will stand behind him when it comes time for him to choose exactly how much to involve himself. People who will fight with him, even if the two of us can't."
Isshin felt his heart sink even still further, somehow.
"You mean… Urahara, if he goes to Soul Society, he'll never make it back, you can't-"
"It'll be his choice, Kurosaki-san. And if he decides he wants to go, it'd be useless for me to try to stop him. So I might as well train him. Help him find his shikai. Give him a fighting chance."
"H-he's fifteen, Urahara. He's just a boy."
"I know."
"I can't lose him, too."
"I know. I swear, I'll do everything I can to protect him until he can protect himself."
Isshin nodded, silently swiping a fresh wave of tears away.
"He's strong," Urahara said quietly. "He'll be ok."
"Don't… don't say anything yet, about me. Or Masaki. I want to be the one to tell him, when the time's right."
"Understood, I won't say a thing. Trust him a little, and leave the rest to me."
Batman x Orion is kind of a crackship considering they live on different planets. And yet. Every moment they are not slowdancing alone on a balcony under a cover of stars is a waste of time if you ask me.
It was a beautiful, clear morning, and the Strawhats, plus Yamato, were taking advantage of it by having a late breakfast outside in the courtyard. A high wall separated them from the rest of the island, and the only sounds on the air were the singing of birds, the clatter of wind chimes, and the sounds of their own lively conversation.
“Yup!” Luffy said, nodding vigorously. “His name’s Sabo, and after Ace died, he inherited his powers!”
“That’s so cool! Is he a pirate, too?”
“He’s with the Revolution,” Robin supplied, stopping Luffy from having to reply around his latest huge mouthful of food.
“Revolution against what?”
“The world government.”
“Yeah, yeah, and the marines.”
“That’s really, really cool.” Yamato sighed. “I sometimes wished for a brother or sister, growing up. I thought, maybe it would have made living with my father more bearable.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad your father only had one kid,” Zoro said fervently. “You weren’t around on Whole Cake having to deal with Big Mom’s entire crew of kids, but trust me, it was terrible.”
“I suppose that’s fair. What about you, Zoro? Do you have any siblings?”
Zoro was silent for a long moment, eyes down, frowning at the plate in front of him. So long, in fact, that Robin opened her mouth to vouch for him as an only child, when he finally spoke for himself-
“I have two sisters. I think.”
“You think? What does that mean?”
“Yeah, that’s the first I’m hearing of it!”
“You have sisters?”
“What?” He scowled around at the rest of the crew, all of whom were staring at him now, with varying expressions of surprise. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes!” Sanji howled. “I can’t believe there are two other marimos just, out there! In the wild!”
“It’s not like that, you idiot.”
“Then, pray tell, what is it like?”
Zoro shrugged irritably.
"It’s become abundantly clear after coming to the Line and meeting all of you guys that you can just, just decide if you want to, you can just claim someone to be your brother or sister-”
“What?”
“-and other people can claim you, t-”
“Zoro, what the hell are you talking about?”
“That’s not how that works at all!”
“Isn’t it? Luffy isn’t related to Ace or Sabo. Nami isn’t related to Nojiko. Sanji has three brothers he chooses not to be affiliated with and a sister he’s still making up his mind about-”
“Oi!”
“-and don’t even get me started on this one!”
“Me!” Franky blinked in surprise. “What did I do?”
“One older brother,” Zoro said, beginning to count off on his fingers, “two younger sisters, approximately, what, like a dozen younger brothers?”
“If you’re talking about the gang-”
“And the frog! The frog is significant somehow.”
“Oi!”
“So, yes. I have two older sisters. One I picked, and one who picked me.”
“I’m telling you, that’s not how it works,” Nami insisted.
(This is a ficlet about the Rogues Gallery discussing a true crime case, making a point about how they each have very specific insight from their various fields to add to the conversation. Warning for some pretty graphic language.)
One memorable early summer morning, the nation awoke to the news that an infamous serial killer had been caught while attempting to flee from New Jersey to Pennsylvania. This was considered big news everywhere, but it was huge news in Gotham, as the serial killer was from somewhere else for once.
Authorities scrambled to bring charges against the man as the entire nation looked on, and by the following April, the trial was wrapping up and sentencing grew ever closer. The inmates of Arkham Asylum gathered around the little analog tv set high on the wall of the common area, just as curious as everyone else to see what would happen next.
"Harvey," Oswald barked, jabbing a finger accusingly at the screen, "why does it matter what that guy says?"
"Because his testimony conflicts the officers' statements. He's trying to sew reasonable doubt, but-"
"Reasonable doubt my ass! As if there were any chance he wouldn't be found guilty!"
"But, beyond that, he's also claiming that the police may have violated this guy's rights. And if that's true, that's not just grounds for an appeal, the whole first trial could end up getting thrown out."
"What would be the point of appealing? He's guilty!"
"Well, yeah, but he could try to argue insanity in the next one. And if he can pull that off, he might get a lighter sentence."
"I don't know why he didn't plead insanity this time," Harley piped up. "He's obviously suffering from some sort of personality disorder. And then his sister's testimony about the suspected first victim, and everything his wife has said about his character? The system doesn't always have a lot of leniency for personality disorders, but a traumatic upbringing can stir up sympathy, even if he did go around hitting people in the back of the head with a baseball bat, or whatever."
"Not a baseball bat," Ed said, shaking his head dismissively. "Blood splatter patterns clearly indicate that the victims were attacked from behind, not with a small blunt object, but with a much larger and flatter surface. Probably the heavy duty snow shovel you can see in the hall in the body cam footage."
"Oh, god." Ivy rolled her eyes. "Well, if that's true about the snow shovel, I doubt that's going to help him drum up any sympathy. At least two of the victims were found with dogwood flowers stuffed in their mouths, and those bloom in the dead of summer. Snow shovel makes it look premeditated."
"Why did he do that with the flowers?"
"Uhhhhh, I think it's either a sex thing or, like, a compulsion thing? Like, like a ritual, you know. Jon, what do you- hey Jon!" Harley called across the room, to where Jonathan sat attempting to ignore the rest of them. "What do you think is with the flowers?"
"Ritual thing," Jon answered without looking up from the essay he was working on. "People fear the dead, and fear leads to desire for control, which is how you get rituals, even if they don't make logical sense."
"Well, there you have it."
"It might also be a sex thing. He did assault his victims, it seems like."
"Nothing sexy about killing," Oswald scoffed. "Killing is a tool in the toolbox. Sends a message. There really does have to be something wrong with you to make it a sex thing."
"Harv, you don't think they'll send him here, do you?"
"No, I don't think any kind of mental institution is on the table with his current charges and plea. If they sent him here, they'd have to send him to Blackgate."
"He'd get ripped to shreds in Blackgate."
"Yeah."
"He'll probably get ripped to shreds wherever he ends up. Good riddance."
"Hey Eddy, you should call in the thing about the snow shovel!"
"No! What am I, Batman?! Besides, it doesn't matter if they know what the murder weapon was or not, he did it, and he's not getting off."
"Yeeeeah, I guess you're right. All in favor of seeing if they'll let us change the channel to a game show or something else more exciting?"
The only person in the X-Mansion's spacious living area when Kitty got back, well after dark, was Logan.
He glanced up as she approached, and she could tell that he could tell from her face that she was upset.
"Hey," he said simply, turning right back to the bowl of fruit salad he'd been eating.
"Hey," Kitty sighed, and promptly flopped face-down on the other end of the couch. Logan rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
"Jean was looking for you earlier. Where ya been?"
"Out gathering intel," she said, muffled into the couch cushion.
"Oh yeah? Find out anything good?"
"…Can you keep a secret, Logan?"
"Sure."
"The Brotherhood didn't kill that woman. At the bridge. They were working with some other guy, and he misunderstood something somebody said, and there was an accident."
"Mmm. Ok."
Logan nodded, and didn't ask how she knew.
"What do you see in that boy?" he asked instead. "You're a big girl now, you're- how old are you?"
"Twenty two. And a half."
"Right. Old enough to know he's not coming around."
"Well, I know he's not a killer."
"Nooo. Just a thief who's been in the odd violent altercation with authorities here and there."
"I know, I know. He gives mutants a bad name."
"You're better off without him."
"I know! Everyone told me so, and I know they're right. I haven't even spoken to him in months, but… I felt like I had to. I had to hear it from him, that he's not a killer."
Kitty groaned and dramatically rolled over, kicking her feet. Logan rolled his eyes.
"I don't like him like that," Kitty insisted. "We don't talk anymore, I don't even think about him most of the time! I don't know why it felt so important! Ugh, I feel so stupid…"
"Well. Maybe it was stupid to go out looking for him, but I'll bet it does feel better knowing for sure, doesn't it?"
"…Yeah. Actually, yeah."
"Mhm."
Logan popped a piece of watermelon into his mouth and chewed quietly, pensively. Kitty took a deep breath and tried to collect herself, sitting up properly on the couch.
"I feel like- I don't know how to say it. We've known each other for years and things have always been the same between us, but everything feels so much more complicated now, somehow."
"Well, it matters more, now," Logan said quietly. "The stakes are higher."
"Yeah. Yeah, exactly. Oh, please don't tell me that that's just what it's like all the time now, that that's how all grown up relationships are!"
"Well, not all of em. But you're an X-man, kid. And even when you feel like there's something undeniable tying the two of you together somehow, things get complicated when you're an X-man, and he's not."
"…You too, huh?"
Logan sighed, and stiffly shrugged a shoulder.
"Sabertooth wasn't behind that assassination in Toronto last winter," he admitted gruffly. "A lotta people blamed him for it, but he wasn't involved."
Kitty nodded, and didn't ask how he knew.
"I didn't… know the two of you were on speaking terms?"
"That's putting it a little bit generously. It's…"
"Complicated?"
"Yeah. Not exactly like you and Lance are complicated, but similar."
"Well, forget him. You don't owe him anything, you know. Forget both of them! They can go do whatever they want, and from now on, I don't give a fuck, and neither should you."
"Watch your language."
"I'm twenty two, I can say what I want."
Logan rolled his eyes again, once again turning his attention back to his food as Kitty stood up and gathered her things.
"I'm going to bed. But, hey, thanks, Logan. For listening."
"Aw, maaaaaan," he heard in response, from one of the flight sim cabins somewhere off to his right. "Can't I stay a little longer?"
"Not today, my young padawan. We have a new assignment waiting for us in the morning."
"Okay, fine. Just, give me a minute to wrap up."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but didn't bother pushing the issue. These days, he knew to purposefully plan giving Anakin a minute- or several- into his schedule.
"Kenobi," hissed a low voice from the other side of the flight sim, "Kenobi!"
Obi-Wan turned to see Jedi Knight Ennisin Hellarie hurriedly approaching.
"Hello again Ennisin."
"Kenobi, that boy-"
"I hope he hasn't given you too much trouble?"
"Trouble, well... I'm not sure if trouble's the right word..."
Ennisin was human, but a very high-strung and anxious one. Obi-Wan was well-acquainted with him enough by now to be accustomed to his dramatic mannerisms, but being around Anakin tended to bring out the dramatic in a lot of people.
"Well, if there's been a problem, then I'd like to know about it, Ennisin. I told you he was excited to come in, but if he's creating problems, then-"
"It's not a problem the way you're thinking of," Ennisin insisted. "It's- it's just- Kenobi, that boy is one of the best pilots that has ever come through my door. Do you realize that? Can you comprehend the magnitude of that?"
"Yes, I told you he was good."
"He's beyond good. He's a prodigy. He is, quite possibly, the best pilot our galaxy has ever seen."
"Ennisin, please don't let him hear you say that. He's still just a child."
"That just means he's going to get even better. You have to send him back. I'll make myself available. It would be a crime not to train him, Kenobi, you must understand-"
"A few hours ago you told me he was too young to be flying sims at all."
"Oh, come now, Kenobi-"
"I did try to tell you he was good."
Ennisin made a face and flapped a hand dismissively.
"An understatement. A gross understatement."
"Well, I will bring him back. He'll be- Anakin, hurry up!- he'll be just as excited to come back, I'm sure."
"Obi-Wan," Ennisin said, with all the gravity of a prophetic premonition, "that boy is going to die in space one day. He was born to fly. You have to bring him back soon."
"Alright, Ennisin, alright, I hear you. I'll bring him back, I promise."
"Good."
"Hi, Master," Anakin said, approaching the two of them. "I got a new high score on the Coruscant approach run!"
"Congratulations, Anakin."
"Can I try it for real next time?"
"Not quite yet," Ennisin said quickly. "But, you can move on to more difficult approach runs, like Mon Cala."
"That's awesome! Master Obi-Wan, when can we come back?"
The thing about Michael Keaton's Batman films is that the first one is a really great Batman movie that explores character motivations and has fun costumes and a killer soundtrack. And the second one is a fever dream, and not even a good one.
Meanwhile, Batman Forever is like "what if Riddler and Two Face were not only camp but also gay" and Batman and Robin is like "what if Ivy was deeply religious and Freeze was actually allowed to be evil in a fun way and his skin was made of glitter"
The thing about Michael Keaton's Batman films is that the first one is a really great Batman movie that explores character motivations and has fun costumes and a killer soundtrack. And the second one is a fever dream, and not even a good one.
"Bruuuuuuce?" Dick yelled loudly. "Am I allowed to dig up dirt on my new teammates?"
"If you hadn't started already I'd tell you I think it's time to get a move on," Bruce's voice floated loftily back to him from down the hall.
"No, well... I did!"
Dick stuck his head into the dining room to find Bruce at the table with his laptop open, surrounded by papers that all had the Wayne Enterprises logo at the top.
"Follow-up question. What if I found out one of my new teammates was lying about their identity? What am I supposed to do with that?"
"Oh, really?" Bruce asked, in a tone of voice that let Dick know that he was already fully aware of the situation. "Which one?"
"Artemis," Dick answered, playing along anyway. "She claimed to be Oliver's niece, but he doesn't have any nieces. She's actually from a family of criminals. Mom is an ex-con, dad is an active con, and I haven't dug too far into the sister yet, but my initial information leads me to believe that she's no good, either."
"Mm. Mhm. So, the question becomes, why the deception on Artemis' part? What does your gut say?"
Dick shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, it's easy to assume the worst. That she's trying to get close to us, or to someone in the League, just to get something out of it that could be used against us."
Bruce nodded and shuffled some papers around, looking perfectly unbothered. "Understandable. But, even though that's a concerning possibility and worth looking further into, it's not the only possibility. What else can you think of?"
Dick paused to consider for a moment. He hadn't thought that far out yet.
"She might be lying about her family cause she knew people would assume the worst if they knew about her family? Or, maybe she's in hiding from her family for some reason?"
"The former, in this case."
"Oh, ok. If you say so."
"Follow that thought through, though. If I weren't here to tell you the answer, what would you have done?"
"Um. Not let her know that I know. Maintain the element of surprise."
"How about telling the others on your team?"
"No, I don't think so. The more people that know, the more opportunity for something to get mixed up and tip her off."
"Exactly. Continue."
"Try to plan for what to do in case she did try to betray us?" Dick suggested uncertainly.
"Exactly," Bruce repeated, nodding again.
"Well, I know that's what you would do, but I don't really think I know what I mean by that when it comes to Artemis and the Team, actually."
"A lot of planning ahead involves gathering more information as a start. What if it came down to a fight? What weapons does she have on her? What are her strengths, her weaknesses? Where would she go if she wanted to lay low?"
"If this was the real deal, does that mean I'd have to make plans around Oliver, too?"
"Good thinking, Dick."
"What if- I mean, thanks, but, what if the information I gather leads me to believe that I couldn't beat Oliver in a fight, if it came to a fight?"
"Well, I'm not going to tell you to fight a fight you can't win. It might be time then to consider telling someone else, someone trustworthy. That, or find some way to cheat. Change the rules so that you can win."
"Ok. If you say so."
"To the best of my knowledge, you don't have anything to worry about with Artemis. She still lives with her mother, and likely has a complicated relationship with her father and sister, but her intentions in joining the Team seemed genuine to me. That's not a guarantee, but I wouldn't have let her anywhere near you and the others if I had any more evidence to support that she was harboring ulterior motives."
"Good to know. I guess for the time being I'll dooooo nothing? Not tell anybody? Is that what you want me to do?"
"Your team," Bruce shrugged. "Your decision."
"...I won't tell them. Not yet. It's Artemis' business to tell, not mine."
"I'm glad you're thinking this all the way through before acting. That's what I like to see. Now, go reset the obstacle course for training this evening. I want to run that through a couple of times before patrol tonight- assuming I can get through this mess in time."
Bruce scowled and gestured to his various paperwork, and Dick laughed.
"Did they say why they want us to meet them at the precinct instead of at the crime scene?" Bruce asked, unbuckling his harness as Diana brought the jet to a complete stop and killed the engines.
"Because there's a witness at the precinct giving a statement, and they thought she might be able to give us some good information," Diana answered, unbuckling her own harness and popping the top hatch.
"Alright. I'm still going to want to see the actual scene, though," Bruce insisted.
"We'll head over there as soon as the debriefing is over," Diana promised. She stood, took a step up onto the jet's wing, hopped down onto the blacktop, and instinctively reached back to offer Bruce a hand on the way down.
Which. Actually. She hadn't quite meant to do.
She remembered about halfway through the motion that it was Bruce she was with. Bruce was independent to a fault, and usually managed to refuse all offers of help in a way that made you feel you had insulted him by even offering.
But she went ahead and offered anyway. She knew Bruce, well enough that he couldn't get under her skin so easily. She decided she wasn't about to let him get in the way of common courtesy.
And he surprised her by taking her outstretched hand as he also jumped down without even missing a beat.
"The precinct is halfway across the city from the crime scene," he said. "I want to try to get there before dark, so we should keep that in mind."
"Noted," Diana said cheerfully.
They started off towards their first destination, and as they went Diana reflected that, actually, Bruce had opened up a lot in the... gods, 12? 13?... years that they had known each other. Trust like that wasn't something he just gave out lightly, and Diana recognized that.
She put on just that much extra speed when they reached the precinct, just to be the one to open the door for him.
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