#cassharper

Foundations of friendship, embittered ties tested by a twisted past. They were young women, but they carried the aged old souls of soldiers from their lives.

Harper was never really one who was lost on words so she began to say something in turn toward Cassandra. Ask her how much of her larger perp count came from watching over Harper’s rusty back. But those were words which didn’t come out because the aptly named Orphan was moving in toward her first.

The question of what was in Harper’s throat and she was ready to turn around expectantly for someone they missed coming at her. But there was no time for thought or movement or even response because…

Cassandra’s mask had been lifted, just over to the bridge of her nose, over her chin and her chapped lips.

And then her gloved hand was on Harper’s cheek, presenting the most gentle of caresses while a small but certain smile of thanks matching on Cass’ face.

The other girl had wanted Harper to see her mouth, the slight flush in her cheeks or the way the cold air steamed out from between her teeth. And she wanted the unguarded parts of Harper’s cheeks to feel the roughness of leather wrapped around her fingers and the texture of the stitches which held the glove together.

It was the most gentle of touches, a stroke with the palm of Cassandra’s hand, and it was so tender and warm in the moment that Harper forgot they were behind a warehouse on the Dixon Harbor surrounded by unconscious felons with a penchant for illegal firearms.

And then Cass moved on, probably certain of some alert system or police contact or something that was about to break up the moment between them anyway. It was hard telling with Cass sometimes.

So Harper was left instead, a bit dumbfounded and oblivious. She was taken off guard because there was almost nothing that could be counted as normal with the situation at hand. After all, when had it ever been normal social etiquette to do that let alone then?

Overthinking like it was her third major, Harper considered that Cass’ understanding of social norms was something they were still working on even a few years later and that there was a certain loving nature with the girl that had endeared her to everyone in spite of or even because of the horrors of her past. It wasn’t as if she could just assume what was meant by Cassandra’s caress. It was just a gentle touch, a stroke, a gesture that was going to cause Harper to lose every semblance of sense in her very, very bi mind at that moment.

The dumbfounded nature she was showing was more than a little uncharacteristic and as such, she was quick to snap herself out of it once she glanced up and saw that Cassandra, fully masked again, had actually double backed from her disappearing trick and was looking worriedly toward Harper for having not already followed. A well deserved amount of scrutiny to say the least.

Plus, the police sirens were closing in.

“Keep your shit together, Row,” Harper grimaced, smacking herself in the forehead before jogging toward the very shadows that Cass had already picked for their escape.

Once they left the scene of their triumph, an uncomfortable silence fell between Bluebird and Orphan. The kind where one was not quite sure what to make of the other’s without thinking to break they own vow.

Awkward, Harper’s mind finally decided on. Awkward was the name of their game. And Harper kind of hated it.

One of the things which had most defined their friendship and, in turn, had made Harper the happiest about having gotten Cass in her life, was the fact that there really hadn’t been anything left to get awkward about. The bonds they forged in spite of how the past tried to define them and their relationship had put them beyond those sorts of things.

It was why a retired Harper Row, rusty and sleep deprived from a few semesters of engineering finals, was willing to take a week night and roam streets and rooftops as Bluebird. Because that was just how comfortable that Cassandra, the Orphan, made her.

No one in the world was safer in those days than they were under Cass’ wing.

So why did that same generosity and gentleness make everything so damn awkward back there.

A far enough distance away from their fighting grounds, Harper, already a few strides behind Cass, skidded to a stop and held up her hands as her head shook. “Okay, okay, okay. Stop. Wait. Reverse. We need to go back to a few moments ago.”

Gracefully, Cassandra turned on her heels and faced Harper. Even beneath her face mask, there was a notable sense of confusion.

“What did you… lose? Cass asked, fumbling a bit with the last word from a lack of regular use.

“I didn’t lose anything,” Harper assured her. “We don’t have to, like, physically get back there. I just. Well. I might have to recalibrate some of my meters here.” She knew the analogy was utterly lost on Cassandra, but the girl showed the usual patience of a saint anyway. Harper made a distinct note in her mind to cash in some of her IOU’s built up from Tim and Steph to demand one of them explain the concept of gaydar to their friend.

“Okay?” Cassandra said, shifting her weight on to the balls of her feet then resting back.

Like everything else Cassandra did in her life, each motion was calculated, every muscle restrained. There was purpose in the stretch of every fiber of her being.

Which was the issue or the not issue of the moment because if everything had purpose and meaning then there was a purpose or meaning behind the stroke of a hand and if that happened then, well, Cassandra had done something vey deliberate. But why. Because Harper wasn’t sure if anything Cass meant was what Harper and most people would think was meant and—

She was overthinking again.

“Harper?” Cass asked curiously.

There was caution and control in Cassandra’s voice. She said Harper’s name and not her codename which was also layered in meaning and personalbility not often used in the field. And then there was the simple emotion of the moment, like she didn’t understand what Harper was doing either. Which was bad, because Harper didn’t know what she was doing or why she was so thrown by a moment of intimacy which was…

And that was when Harper’s mind hit pause again and the reason she was so startled was because that touch and that moment felt like something truly intimate and more than anything Harper had shared with another person in a very long time and she—

Her very, very bi brain needed to know if she was misreading things. Because that was what very, very bi brains sometimes did.

“Orphan,” Harper started, but then realized that it was misleadingly formal since the formality ice had been broken by Cass already. “Cassie,” which was way too casual and honestly she couldn’t remember if anyone had ever non-jokingly called Cass that before. There was something very broken about Harper’s incredibly bi brain at that point. “Listen. Cass.”

For her part, Cassandra stood quietly and patiently, head somewhat tilted. She said nothing, but it wasn’t like that was exactly abnormal.

“Cass, you and I. What I mean. Back there,” Harper waved toward the docks and froze because coherency was suddenly far more difficult than her physics homework. “Shit.” And when that made Cassandra’s head tilt in the other direction, Harper’s heartbeat increased almost tenfold. “Uh. Good job?”

That, at least, earned a soft smile and Cass nodded. “You too.”

They stood opposite of each other for a few more moments, awkwardness on top of additional awkwardness.

“So. You like,” Harper paused again and sorted through nerves before motioning to her cheek that still felt a bit warm despite thermodynamics not quite working that way. “You touched me.”

“Yes,” Cass answered back in a sort of very nonchalant way that could have gutted a lesser bisexual immediately.

Harper, by necessity though, was built of stronger stuff. “Was that like… what kind of touch did you think it was?”

Suddenly, Cassandra looked incredibly confused. “… types of… touches?” she tried to clarify.

“Yeah, sorry, this is weird, but I won’t sleep for the next two days already because of that coffee habit I can’t kick and if I’m thinking about this and not, like, exams coming up then I will be an actual bisexual disaster and no one really wants to see that, let’s be real,” Harper chattered on like a deranged woman with blue hair and a taser built like a bazooka strapped to her back.

“Okay?” Cass continued. “Still don’t… really understand?”

“The touch, the hand… thing. I need to know. Why? Is it just… something you do or is it like… offering a hand in marriage? Or… more likely it’s very mild and something in between there?” Harper pressed.

Cass’ chin tilted up and she nodded sagely. “Ah, yes.”

“Yes what? Cass, I’m going to have a breakdown here we need specifics,” Harper nearly hyperventilated.

“I want you to know… you did good. And I’m proud,” Cass explained. “So… showed you.”

And, in that moment, Harper could not have been more deflated. “Oh,” she said. Then, internally, she used very bad words to curse her stupid very, very bi brain for the teases.

“Because I like you?” Cass continued, suddenly adding some of her own awkward by rubbing at her neck. “So… yes?”

Waking up more, Harper came to alertness and slowly edged further into the living room with the sort of caution reserved for cheesy horror movies. 

Living in Gotham, cheesy horror movies were Option D as far as the list of possibilities in her daily life. So she tried to assure herself she wasn’t being ridiculous. That she needed to be quick and decisive and make sure that whatever had made it past all her alarms, made it past all her honed senses after training with Batman and his Robins, that she could protect Cullen from it all. 

Not that they’d need it. 

Before Harper could get any closer, there was a whisper from the couch and the shuffle of movement. 

“Sorry.”

Harper stood up, relief flowing through her shoulders and bones and she reached over, turning on her lights with the flip of a switch.

She should have known there was only one person in all of Gotham who could make it past her and Red Robins’ defenses. And that was the couch crasher herself, Cassandra Cain. 

Shining chestnut eyes stared back up at Harper apologetically. But it was too difficult to be mad at them. 

Harper had more than tried.

"Aren’t you cold?” Harper asked, rubbing her arms down to make a point before she shuffled toward the window left open.

“Little,” Cass yawned, stretching on the couch like a cat. 

“There’s simple solutions for simple problems,” Harper said with a slight chuckle as she closed the window. 

“Huh?” Cass asked, looking over the back of the couch, confused. It was then that Harper realized Cassandra was wearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants that used to belong to her -- Hamilton, because Harper had fantastic taste. 

“It’s something my physics professor keeps telling us,” she explained, coming back toward the couch. “Don’t worry about it.”

Cassandra hummed, curled up into herself, hugging her knees on the couch. She was sleepy, obviously had not been resting for long when Harper came in. But Harper was wide awake then and she was going to make Cassandra suffer so long as she did.

“What’d I say that confused you?” Harper asked genuinely, settling on the couch, bladder all but forgotten. 

“Don’t worry,” Cass said firmly, shaking her head. “Figure it out.”

Harper shook her head. “You probably will, you learn so damn fast, Cass. But you don’t have to do things alone. You’ve got people to help you learn, make it easier. Explain stuff for you.” She thought on the words then motioned to herself. “I’m here to help.”

A coy smile was on Cassandra’s face as she looked away, covering herself partially with her knee. She was avoiding eye contact -- that was always a tell with Cassandra. That was her way of ending conversations she didn’t like. 

“Like physics?” Cass gently teased, hoping to move on.

“If you want to learn physics, I’m your gal,” Harper replied, poking at the side of her own temple. “I’ve been stuffing physics in this brain all day. I’m an open book.”

Looking back at Harper, Cassandra squinted in that way that scrunched her nose and cheeks together so cutely. “Which one?” she asked.

“Huh?” it was Harper’s turn.

“Are you... my gal or an open book?” she asked, her expression one of an answer being demanded. 

Blinking Harper tilted her head. “I don’t see how they have to be mutually exclusive--” she stopped herself. Eyes widening, she nearly sunk into the couch. “Oh.”

Cassandra did not look away. She was still waiting for an answer to the question. 

“Oh,” Harper repeated. A wry smile grew on her face. “Well, if I have to choose, because Cassandra Cain demands it.”

“Yes,” Cass answered with a nod.

“Then I suppose that my only true option is to be your gal,” Harper replied. “Your befuddled, exhausted, really has to pee, gal. Who would wish that you’d come get in bed and sleep somewhere comfortable instead of sneaking in, crowding my couch, and letting in a draft to get my attention gal.” She leaned in. “In that way, I’m all yours.”

Cass smiled back and leaned forward, meeting Harper halfway as the surged for a kiss. 

For every night after that, Cassandra did what any normal girlfriend in Gotham would do. 

But that night, sitting in a pretty floral dress which Barbara helped her pick, with her hair cut by that hairdresser Kate loved, and rubbing her thumb across the bangle which Steph kissed and gave her for good luck, Cassandra felt…

Insecure. Cassandra felt very, very insecure. And the source of that insecurity was the source of a lot of other feelings, too.

There was the feeling of bubbles rising from deep within her stomach to high within her chest. There were the feelings of anticipation and excitement, anxiously awaiting the familiar face that was supposed to meet her in front of the restaurant. There was the worry that she was doing all the things her brothers told her to do wrong, and there was the anxiety of thinking…

Thinking, well, what if she doesn’t show up.

They were a great many emotions and feelings and soul crushing regrets all at once as she tucked her hair nervously behind her ear and wondered, somewhat idly, if she had ruined the nice hairdresser’s entire ‘work of art.’

But all those emotions reached their peak, reached their boiling over point at once when she looked to the door and saw her date.

Harper looked as though she felt many things in that moment, too.

There was a breaching smile on her lips held back by some strain of muscle, her walk was off as if she was unnaturally contemplating each footfall, her throat bobbed nervously, and her head was tilted back as if to hide itself away from Cassandra’s watchful eye.

There was something joyful in Cass when she saw a mirror in Harper. She was no longer the only one with no idea what they were doing.

And then…. Then Harper actually, genuinely, surprised her.

As Harper approached, her mouth opened to greet Cass, but it quickly closed with an audible smack of her lips. It left Cassandra blinking at the peculiarity of it.

Not sure what to do, Cass raised her hand timidly and gave a small wave.

Harper returned it. Then Harper’s hands continued moving.

At first, the shapes and form of her fingers and fists were perplexing, they were something that caught Cassandra by surprise and made the motions seem erratic at first glance.

But to Cassandra’s eye they were just far too deliberate, and far too specific to be hand waves.

They reminded Cassandra of the signals which she often used with other crime fighters on patrol, or how Cain directed her before that. It was too cold and calculated of a language in both cases to fully be what Harper was attempting at that moment.

And then, suddenly, Cassandra’s eyes widened as the movements shifted from motion into words right before her eyes.

Harper was talking to Cass. She was talking without words and Cassandra spelled them out, laced them together, and watched as the stifled conversation Harper was signaling to her became real.

I love you. I heart you. You should know. We can learn together. To talk. Let’s meet in the middle.

It was the most precious thing anyone had ever done for Cass in her short but difficult life and the moment Harper had finished, Cassandra leaped forward to her, wrapped arms around Harper’s neck, and happily landed a kiss.