Electric Blue 🩵

Dick Grayson was a private man. A man who lurked in the shadows, who doesn’t make a song and dance about things, calm and calculated in every situation. Until he met the infamous ‘Fireball’.

He was lucky it was dark. The moonless night hid the blush threatening to escape the tight neck of his suit. Her costume left nothing to the imagination. “Aren’t you cold?”

That southern drawl made him want to kneel at her feet and beg, for what, he didn’t know. “Sugar, clues in the name. My blood runs like a furnace. I never get cold”.

This man had a sharp tongue and quick wit and yet he was stumbling over his words. “You, um, you uhh, you clearly aren’t from around here. What brings you to Gotham?”

“Now that would be tellin’, wouldn’t it?” Fireball got a kick out of seeing a man stutter because of her. It was a major juxtaposition to her regular life. “It certainly would, ma’am”. Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. “Ma’am? Sweetheart you’re makin’ me sound like some bedridden grandma”.

Dick laughed and shrugged his shoulders. They both looked out over Gotham, silence washing over them like a blanket. “So what do they you call you?”.

“Nightwing”. Fireball almost stumbled back in disbelief. “What?”. She couldn’t find the words to tell him that she knew who he was. That she worked with him. “Dick?”.

“How’d the hell you know that?”. She had to keep her identity a secret. She couldn’t tell him that she was poached by his absent father to keep an eye on him. She was surprised he didn’t make her when she spoke, that accent doesn’t come often in Gotham. “Lucky guess, Sugar”.

Dick eyed her warily, until it clicked. Holy shit.

He wouldn’t tell her he knew who she was. Or that he knew she could melt a person in 5 seconds. Suddenly, that shyness disappeared, his silver tongue regained its place. “I guess you’ve got good intuition huh?”

Fireball let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “What do those sticks do?”.