Title: learning the steps
Fandom: Batgirl (Comics)
Rating: G
Length: ~ 900
Characters: Stephanie Brown/Dick Grayson
Summary: Sometimes she doesn't know how she got here. But then who cares. She is here and she's going to enjoy it.

Even after years of doing this she got to these moments when she stumbled through the motions, blundering her way through the “controlled” landing and then caught herself at the last possible moment, just in time not to land flat on her face. It was a blessing that the bad guys had been strapped up and left for the police already, because the only thing that would be even more embarrassing would be to fall in front of the people who were suppose to fear you.

She had come so far and still sometimes she felt like Stephanie Brown, pretender inside the Batgirl suit.

Barbara had made the name for herself and Cassie... Cassie had in so many ways been born to fight like Batman himself. They had truly been Batgirl. For Steph? Everything had been hard work and trial and error. She hadn't started this crusade to change the world or save Gotham or even become a better person. She had just wanted to make crime harder for her criminal liar of a dad.

And now here she was.

“Batgirl?”

It never got old.

“Batman?”

Looking back without turning, she watched as Dick landed on the balustrade behind her, effortless and graceful. With all the armor and heavy equipment he must be carrying, she had no idea how he did it. Bruce had always moved sure of every single movement, but there was a lightness in Dick that he had never possessed.

“Are you alright?”

“I'm standing on my own two feet,” she said and half hoped the ground would just swallow her up. She hated when Batman got to see her stumble. Perhaps she hated it even that slight bit more now that it was Dick Grayson behind the mask. “We're not all born acrobats, circus kid.”

Even with the mask she could see he was smiling good-naturedly. “Could have fooled me up there with how you took out the thieving sisters with precision and grace.”

She rolled her eyes, sure he couldn't see it. Getting a compliment was nice, but she had no idea how to take it at this particular moment. Her cheeks were still hot with embarassment. “Is that what we're calling them? Thieving sisters?”

He shrugged. “Just a description. Not sure naming them is a good idea. The ones that make names usually come back like bad pennies.”

Of course, he had a point. Gotham had enough trouble as it were. “Alright,” she said, about to insist that he could go back on patrol now, that Oracle had enough to do for her on a night like this and that they did no need the help of Batman, thank you very much. This was his city. There must be somewhere else where he could do good by moving around gracefully in the costume.

“Want to work a little on your balance?”

It sounded like a friendly joke, but she had hoped he would let it slide. “Very funny. Don't you have bigger fish to fry, Batman?”

“Not right this moment, no.” He held out a hand as if he was asking her to dance.

Blinking, she suddenly realized that was exactly what he was doing. “Are you for real?”

“Am I? I don't know. Hard to tell sometimes, living this life.”

Had someone told her that one day Batman would be giving her dancing lessons on a Gotham rooftop she would have laughed her ass off. But whoever would have said it wouldn't have known anything more than the urban legends and the media whispers about Batman. They wouldn't have known how Bruce really was when he wore the mask: Serious and driven and not often open to that kind of dangerous, carefree fun. That part was all Dick Grayson, who had fought hard to make the name and mantle his without losing himself to it.

“Why ever not?” she asked, making up her mind, and grasped his hand to let herself be pulled up to awkwardly balance on the balustrade and without giving her much time to think he fell into the steps, taking the lead and suddenly it was all easy.

She knew balance. She knew dancing.

But this took her breath away. Their capes were flapping in the wind and beneath them the city lights were shining, making Gotham look like a beautiful, dark jewel.

“You're a different kind of Batman,” she said, when he started to hum a melody in tune with their steps and her heart welled over with an innocent joy.

“You're a one of a kind Batgirl. Never change,” he sing-songed. Knowing the two women who had held the mantle before her, she knew that was the highest possible praise.

Her laughter was lost on the wind, but she was sure he could still hear it, as he whirled her around and dipped her over, their mouths suddenly close.

The kiss was terribly sweet and she could just imagine how they looked: black and purple and still hidden behind masks, dancing up here, a tangle of limbs and capes.

How was this her life now?

She didn't care.

It was too good to ask stupid questions.