A Not-So-Abandoned Warehouse, the Abandoned Warehouse District, Saturday Morning

[wrongkindofsith]

Due to various portal issues, Cara had gotten in late enough the night before that halfway to the hotel, she'd turned and headed for Cara Mason's converted warehouse loft (that also served as a secret lair) instead, and it was there that she now awoke, stretching luxuriously for the sake of the cameras as she pulled on a tasteful-yet-sexy (also expensive) nightshirt.

She settled in at her computer, going to the folders full of research on potential marks. She'd take this town for all it was worth, and this then... No, she wouldn't, couldn't think of that, not now. She had to keep her eyes on the prize and not get lost in memories of her mysterious, painful, and ill-defined past.

[Open, because what's the point of a secret lair if no-one knows where it is?]

Comments

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Hello, Cara," Bruce announced as he walked in. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

[wrongkindofsith]

He remembered her name, so he probably didn't have amnesia today. No need for any farces then.

"Not at all, Bruce." She closed her laptop so he couldn't see the screen. "Had any weddings recently?"

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Not in the past week or two," Bruce said. At least not that he remembered. "Rob any easy marks?"

[wrongkindofsith]

"A girl likes to keep her hand in." Fake IDs only paid for themselves in a roundabout fashion. "And this island does have some easy ones."

Hi, Jim!

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Just remember that I'm not one of those when I have my memory and I think we'll be able to stay friends," Bruce suggested.

[wrongkindofsith]

"I'd never forget that." For one thing, it'd taken all her skills as a conwoman to convince him they were anything resembling friends in the first place.

"Is that why you stopped by," Cara asked. "For a friendly chat?"

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"I came here to give you a present," Bruce said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a bag of coffee. "I've got some delivery men coming in today. Out of towners. And I don't want any of their deliveries disappearing because they chatted up the wrong pretty lady. So I offer you this gift. It's better quality than what they're shipping anyway."

[wrongkindofsith]

"You know I don't deal in that stuff." Sure she might have regularly conned guys into thinking she was into them, then beaten them up and cleaned them out, but she had standards.

Not that it stopped her taking the beans. There was a difference between enjoying a well brewed cup and selling those pills. "If someone's jacking your supplies it's not me."

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Nobody's jacking my supplies," Bruce said. Except Batman, his accursed twin brother. "Can't a guy be neighborly for no special reason?"

[wrongkindofsith]

Not when the guy was Bruce Wayne and the neighbour was Cara Mason. "Sure he can," she said, instead. "Everybody needs good neighbours."

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Glad to hear it," Bruce said. "You know, the offer to be even better neighbors is still out there if you ever lose your knack for assaulting the people you seduce."

[wrongkindofsith]

"I don't assault all the people I seduce." Just the men. Usually. "But I wouldn't push your luck."

After all, she still had a folder with Bruce's name on it.

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"I don't believe in luck. Just opportunity," Bruce said. "Another time, then."

[wrongkindofsith]

"Exactly my philosophy." It was maybe the one thing they could agree on. "Goodbye, Bruce."