Genocide (Nightwing x OC)

Lunch

October 24

"Madame, do you know a Dick Grayson?" Marceau asked me.

I looked up from the table where different color fabrics were thrown all over the place, some cut into the shape they were supposed to be, others not even touched yet.

"I do, why? Is someone snooping in my personal life?" I joke.

"Even if I were it would be to keep you safe"

"Aw, yeah don't try to flatter me. I'm just joking. I couldn't care less if you know of every guy I bang or not"

"That's a little too much information madame"

"Ha, I know. But anyway, why?"

"Oh, yes, he's downstairs, wanting to talk with you"

"Did he say why?"

"Not specifically madame"

"Mysterious. Send him up"

He left and I went back to cutting the fabrics. I was working on a new dress that was going to be worn, by me, during a special New Years event thrown by me. Tons of big names were gonna be there, including Mr. Wayne, and it was going to be the most interesting dinner party ever thrown.

"The pretty boy has arrived!" I exclaim when the door opened.

He chuckled as Marceau closed the door behind him. Dick wandered over to me, his hands stuffed casually in his jean pockets. He wore a t-shirt with a leather jacket on top, making him look pretty badass.

"Scratch that, the bad boy has arrived," I say when I got a glimpse of his appearance.

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out for lunch"

"Is this you trying to ask me out on a date?" I ask playfully.

"Well, maybe more of a chance to talk about business," he replied, scratching the back of his head.

"Sounds good to me"

I grabbed my jacket and we headed out, going to the restaurant in his car. Unsurprisingly the restaurant he took me to was very expensive and high end. They served wine and water before anything else.

"So, why did you ask me here?" I ask, swirling the wine around in the wine glass in my hand.

"I wanted to talk about how you're doing"

"How I'm doing?"

"Yeah. You don't seem very whelmed about all the work you're doing"

"Whelmed?"

"The opposite of overwhelmed"

"Wouldn't that just be underwhelmed?"

"No, well ah, never mind. It's, um, in between"

"Well, if you must know, I am completely overwhelmed with everything"

"Why do you keep doing it then? You could give up the business, hand it over to someone else, focus on your fashion design"

I lean forward, my elbow on the table and my hand supporting my head. "You sound a lot like someone I've met"

His eyes widened a bit, just in the slightest, but he smiled. "Really? Who?"

"Nightwing"

"You've met him?" He asks, leaning his elbows on the table.

It was like we were both challenging the other, seeing who would slip up about a big secret.

"He saved my life, we had a conversation similar to this one, but this one seems like a continuation of that one"

He shrugs. "Must be a coincidence. I'm just interested in your life, how you handle it all so well"

"Well, my parents' plan was always to give me their business whenever they decided to retire, but retirement came early to them. They gave everything to a young 17 year old who was just barely out of private school. No idea what to do, everything I did was made up from the get go. I learned along the way but I'm still mad with how they threw their load of work onto my pile which was already full"

While talking my hand nearly crushed the wine glass. It angered me, just thinking about the past, and I nearly took out my anger on a wine glass full of red wine that would've surely spilt if I didn't get control of my anger.

"Sorry. I'm overreacting"

He grabbed onto one of my hands from across the table, his surprisingly rough but warm hand calming me down.

"It's completely fine to not be okay with your parents' decisions. You are dealing with a lot"

"There's so much work and not enough people to help me do it so I get stuck with all the heavy lifting. It's hard running a business. What do you do?"

"I do a bit of work for Bruce"

"Is that it? Sounds boring"

"There isn't really much to it. I have other things taking up my time"

"Like what?"

"Uh, gymnastics?"

I nearly snort at his answer. "Gymnastics? Oh I can just see you flipping around a mat in one of those skintight leotards. What got you into gymnastics?"

"When I was a kid I used to be apart of this group called the flying Graysons"

That name made my heart sink. The story of what happened had stuck in my mind, how there was only one lone survivor of the accident, the youngest Grayson, Richard. Now know as Dick.

I held his hand with both of mine. "I'm sorry"

"It's okay"

"No. I'm here talking about how much I hate my parents and... well..."

"It's fine"

Our food was finally brought out of the kitchen. We talked about some less depressing things as we ate, laughing together and enjoying the food. He took me home when we were done.

"I'm hosting a dinner party in a couple of weeks for New Years. Bruce is already invited, but I was wondering if you'd want to come"

"I'll check my schedule," he says with a smirk.