Meet Cute

July 25, 2016:

While visiting Gotham Library, Tim Drake finds a way to meet Darcy Lewis.

Gotham University Library

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Classes haven't quite started at Gotham U, but the University is getting busy as undergraduates funnel back to campus in preparation for the new semesters' courses. Tim Drake, under the guise of being one such student, lingers in the library staring at the books on ancient greek mythology; specifically anything involving Perseus and Medusa. Why Perseus? Because the hero managed to negotiate the gorgon's head. He doubts there's anything there, but JUST in case…

Aside from looking at books 'early' in the school year, Tim melds into the location. His dark hair is slicked back to the side, his face sports a five o'clock shadow, his loose fitting jacket, blue jeans, and messenger back hanging from his shoulder, all make him look like an average student.

He tucks two books from the shelf, and glances behind him — there's no one around this particular aisle, meriting a smirk. With a slight shake of his head, he tosses the books haphazardly towards the table at which he is working. He throws two more without looking…

"..so, I wanted to say thanks again, Mr. MaCallahan. It was awesome to meet you face to face," comes Darcy's voice from where the Library Provost's office is. She's walking sort of backwards out of the office, smiling… and dressed completely professionally. Black pencil skirt, black suit jacket, white silk cami blouse, black four inch stilletto heels, her hair up in a bun that looks right at home in a corporate office, and 'day' makeup. Not that this means her lips are any less red.

One of the beautiful things about living in a mask is voice recognition. Not that Tim can always place voices. In this case, however, a particular voice rings a bell. Slowly, carefully, Tim leans away from the bookshelf and slowly, carefully peeks around to spy a familiar, albeit different looking face. His hmms quietly to himself and then smirks.

With a rub of his neck, his head tilts back and forth, weighing at least two options before he slides backwards and slinks around the bookshelf. His eyes clamp shut for a few moments as the internal debate continues, but he doesn't stop his actions either, instead, tossing a book in Darcy's line of stepping backwards, while stepping forwards to catch her should she fall.

Yeah, he's orchestrating a meet cute. No, he's not very good at it.

Waving again, Darcy takes a two more steps as Mr. MaCallahan closes the door behind her. Her heel hits the book, her ankle bobbles, and her arms do a half windmill as she starts to fall… The windmill ends when derby training kicks in and she tucks her elbows in and turns her body to land hip first.

Which puts her chest to chest with her would be hero, poised to ever so perfectly catch her mid-fall.

"Sonuvafucking bitch," comes out of her mouth without hesitation, without remorse, and without filter. Several people look over with frowns.

Amusement tugs the corners of Tim's eyes at Darcy's response and he manages a stitch of surprise as he actually reaches out and manages to catch her. He carefully, attempts to right her back to her feet, slowly releasing as she seems to find a sense of balance.

His throat clears. "Uh… are you okay?" Tim's eyebrows arch expectantly.

One hand remains on Tim's shoulder to help Darcy keep her balance as she flamingos on one foot to rub at teh twisted ankle. As she rubs, bruises on her knee and calf are visible against her pale skin.

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks for catching me. Damn, I hate twisted ankles. Hurt like a bitch," she rambles, wincing as she puts her foot down to test how much weight she can manage. Clearly, it's not as much as she'd like but more than enough to make it clear that she's not injured.

Tim cringes as she rubs the bruising on her leg. "Do I want to see 'the other guy'?" he asks with a small tick of his head towards her injury. "Here," he begins to lead her towards one of the many tables, "take a load off for a bit. Guessing those ice pick shoes don't do much for giving the ankles a break." Pause. "Not that I'd know. I don't wear high heels. Because I'm not interested in wearing high heels and have never been. Which is why I haven't worn them. Ever." Why is he still talking? "Also, I'm not interested in trying them." Beat. "Here, let me help you get to a table," he begins to lead her towards a seat at a nearby table.

"Not really. He's a jerk," says Darcy as she lets Tim lead her to a table to perch on. His rambling has her quirking a brow at him, green eyes mischeviously smirking.

"Said with a tone that sounds like you're trying to cover either for the fact that you have worn them or would like to wear them. Either way, it's kinda hot." A beat and Darcy grins broadly, holding out a hand.

"Darcy Lewis," is offered with her hand.

"I hope you managed to get a few hits in of your own," Tim notes as he takes a seat of his own across from her. The hand is accepted in a warm handshake, "Tim Drake." With a chuckle, his cheeks hue a faint red and his hand rake through his dark hair, "Uh. Nah. No interest in high heels. Just, really bad at… Uh. Anyways." He coughs. "So, do you go here?" His lips twist to the side, "Or, you just like hanging out in dungy libraries loaded with books?"

"Totally. Not as many as I would have liked, but I got a few," Darcy replies, kicking off ehr shoes a moment to stretch her ankles. The blush has Darcy's brows lifting, that familiar smirk on her face. She is highly amused, as always, by how easily some guys blush.

"Neither. I was meeting a library contact who literally saved my ass a few months ago. Always pays off to rub skin, ya know? You?"

"Good to keep your friends close, right?" Tim's lips twist to the side and he offers her a shrug. "I guess it's good to keep someone who saved you and repay them in some way. Even if it's just a thank you, or a quick greeting."

"Me? I do actually god here," he smirks. "Doing some research. Taking some time before I have to head to registration." His lips twitch. "What did that guy save you from? Bad research?"

"Horrible research," Darcy agrees as she nods about keeping friends close. "I needed an ILL that wasn't coming through from Gotham U. Mr. MaCallahan hooked me up. And, since he has PhD friends in the field, I got him to help me wrangle them for information. Really, it was great of him. Quality guy."

"Sounds like a friend worth keeping, long time," tim muses as he rubs the back of his neck. "What were you working on? It's good you got the interlibrary loan you wanted." He whistles sharply. "So what on earth happened to get you those bruises on your leg? Like actually? Because if that's from a domestic — er," he doesn't know her, and so he shies away from getting too personal. "Sorry. Just making sure it's all… " he shrugs.

"Totally. Oh, Nothing huge. Masters, arts… Socio-political… It's nothing, really," Darcy waves it off and grinning at the worry over the bruises. "Yeah. DOn't worry about it. I bruise easily. It was worse when Iplayed for the Culver Crossbones. I was purple, constantly." her tone if flippant and unconcerned.

Tim's eyebrows knit together, "Culver Crossbones?" And then, his head cants to the side, "As in derby? You do roller derby?" He eyes her carefully. "I wouldn't have guessed based on," his nose wrinkles.

Darcy nods, chuckling softly. "Used to. Hard to find time for it now. Work's a bitch some days," she says, thumbing at the business suit. "Money's decent despite the monkey suit. But yes. You've heard of them? Most don't know their ownlocal teams. Hey. You ever go to a bout here in gotham? Ya'll's teams are killer."

"Couple times," Tim replies, "but it's been awhile. I should really go again. It's pretty fantastic to watch. But rough stuff." His eyebrows arch, "It's not something I would be remotely good at." He emits a soft sigh. "School doesn't really afford much time though." His eyebrows knit together, "So where do you work?" He inspects her outfit and wrinkles his nose, "You a manager or something at some office?"

"You really should. Ask for my number, and next time you go, text me. If I can get free, I'll swing by," Darcy offers, even as she leans about the table to eye Tim's lean frame up and down.

"I dunno. You'd make a decent jammer. I never was. Too much junk in my trunk. I was a blocker," she says, then laughs brightly at the thought of her being a manager.

"No. Stock room, mostly. Office supplies and the like. Anyone wants a stapler, they'll have to go through me. No, literally. My desk is between the door and the staplers."

The comment about the number wins Darcy a boyish grin, "Can I have your number?" His throat clears, "To invite you to go to derby, of course. Unless, I could invite you elsewhere."

He laughs at the last. "I bet your days in derby help you in that job. Ever had to tackle anyone?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Darcy quips as she holds out her hand for Tim's phone so she can program it in for him.

"And you can invite me anywhere you want. I might not accept, but it doesn't have to stop you from offering," she adds with a wink.

"And yes, actually. I just wish I could have some Tomago skates, and no one could stop me," she adds, closing a fist like she's making big plans or something.

Tim willingly hands his cellphone over and shoots her a half-smirk, "Cool. Then I'll be texting you." He can't help but feel pretty pleased with himself. After receiving the digits, he offers, "Darcy? It was great meeting you, and believe me, I will be in touch, but I'm running — " a glance is given towards the entrance, "I gotta run. Meeting with registration to sort out a couple things — " he shrugs as he slides off the chair. "I hope your ankle is good to go. Good meeting you." And with that he slips towards the door.

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