May. 6th, 2013

And forward

May. 6th, 2013 09:48 pm
raptorcanaria: (Dinah snr)
Dinah Lance snr is sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by flowers, one hand full of deli sandwich, the other looking through mail from a pile by the cash register. Her daughter is up a ladder, sorting out the ribbon supplies. They've done a pretty good job so for today - since the surgery, in fact - at not fighting at all.


"Yes, Mom?"

"Why does the hospital say all my bills are cleared?"

"Because they have. My insurance covered it."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"What kind of insurance do you have?"

"Justice League insurance."

"Oh." Mrs Lance is quiet for a second, then gives a small smile. "Which one is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"No." She looks up at her daughter. "You’re lucky to have such generous friends."

"We both are, Mom. We always have been."

"Don’t I know it."

Dinah’s return to the satellite is met with grins so wide they only just stop short of audible cheers. There’s a lot of shoulder patting and ‘how are ya?’s and she finds herself suddenly buoyed up, realized how much she'd been bearing with the two weeks spent on leave, alone with her Mom.

Shes not back to monitor shifts yet, but she’s welcomed back to all League meetings, and confirms that her communicator will be back online, and she is to respond to all emergencies as normal.

The only problem is Green Arrow. Somehow the kind man from the hospital is missing, and instead the loud, brash patronizing jerk is louder, brasher, more patronizing and more of a jerk than he’s ever been.

And he’s saved her a seat at the table right next to him.

And it really annoys her that she finds this flattering.

After closing the store, Dinah jumps onto her Thunderbird and runs to her favorite Chinese place, taking some time out while they’re making her order to drop into the local video rental store. She returns to their apartment with one bag full of pork dumplings, and another full of Richard Gere, finding her mother sitting on the couch, glaring at a tangle of yarn.

Dinah stares at it.


"Ted thinks I should take up a sitting down hobby," her Mom says curtly. "Knitting isn’t it."

"Are romantic comedies a sitting down hobby?" Dinah asks. "Because that’s what I’ve got."

She exchanges the yarn for a pre-made blanket, puts a tray of Chinese food on top of it, and once the tape is in the VCR, curls herself under the other side.

"Aren’t you going to Milliways tonight?"

The hidden bitterness behind the word surprises Dinah, but she pretends to ignore it.

"Not tonight."

And maybe not for a while. She has other priorities.

She’s being very careful not to fight with her Mom, and trying to focus her stress and frustration into fighting the bad guys. Sometimes this comes out sideways into snapping at her teammates. When it’s directed at Ray or Barry, she can see it upsets them, and instantly feels bad. Diana and Clark are infinitely patient with her, which makes her feel worse. Bruce and Hal both take it, and she feels safe. Oliver, she’s sure, takes pleasure in encouraging it.

He infuriates her. He teases her. He will not stop making reference to her looks. He provokes her, and he annoys her.

And she can’t help thinking that’s what she needs right now.

Maybe it’s what she wants.

Eventually she realizes she needs advice about this. And immediately rules out both her Mom and any of her uncles.

"Batman, do you have a minute?"

This is the worst plan ever. And immediately it gets Arrow’s head raised, his eyes on them. "What do you have to be talking about on your own?"

The entitled tone in his voice, the accusation even, provokes Dinah into snapping. "It is none of your business whom I talk to about what, Green Arrow!"

He practically storms off, and leaves her alone with the man who, she suddenly realizes, should be the last person she talks to about this kind of thing.

But he was the first person to approach her when she first got the news. And he hasn’t been as obvious about it as some people, but he’s been there for her as much as anyone, in his own way. She gets that, and she appreciates it, is grateful for his friendship.

Bruce is waiting for her to says something. She takes a breath.

"I need advice. About Oliver."

"Hey, Mom?" Dinah asks one evening.

"Yes, love?"

"You didn’t mind that whole hospital billing thing, did you?"

She smiles. "No. No, I thought your friend was very generous, and I make a rule never to resent gifts."

"Oh." Dinah smiles. "Good. Because another friend," (or maybe the same one, but at least she knows who this friend is) "got us seats at Katakana on Carmine street tonight."

Dinah snr stares at her. "Dinah, we can’t afford to breathe in Katakana."

"Well, he’s covered that, too."

Her mother shakes her head, but she’s smiling.

It’s Oliver’s turn to chair, and it results in him being the first to stand after the meeting, but Dinah stays sitting at the meeting table, watching him. He takes the hint, and hangs back as everyone files out to teleport home (well, except Hal, who has monitor duty). Then he comes over to her chair.

"Canary?" His tone sounds concerned, unsure. Dinah smiles quickly to reassure him.

"I wanted to thank you," she says.

"You think I paid...? No, we all...."

Dinah shakes her head and stands. He takes a step back to give her space, and she reaches for his arm, catching his wrist.

"Not for that. For everything. For being there for me during all of this."

He seems to break through confusion and offers a smile, his cockiness still failing him.

"Well, we’re a team. We stick together."


Dinah smiles. And then smiles wider, feeling the blood rush to her face. Under his mask, Oliver’s forehead crinkles.

It gives her the opportunity to reach up and pull his mask away.

"We’re a team," she says. "And I’d like... I think we’d make a good team."

She counts the seconds as she watches realization dawn. Then he grins, and bodily picks her up, sitting her on the meeting table.

His mustache doesn’t scratch nearly as much as she thought it would.

Alan and Molly come over for whist, and leave as soon as Dinah snr looks tired, which is a little before she says she wanted them to. Dinah jnr suspected it was a little later than was really good for her.

As mother changes for bed, daughter cleans up and makes them both some hot cocoa. It’s waiting when Dinah snr comes back into the living room in robe and slippers.

"Tonight was nice."

"Yes. It was..."


Her Mom just shakes her head. "I’m sorry. I’m being a silly old lady. I’ve really appreciated having you around these last few weeks, Dinah."


"But I know you’re putting up with a lot. You shouldn’t have to look after an old woman on top of everything else in your life."

Dinah sits down on the couch, hard.

"What is it?" her mother asks.

She takes a breath.

"About that..." she says. "I’ve been thinking of selling the store."


"Well, to you, if you want it back. But... um."

"You’re moving out, aren’t you?"

Her voice is so steady, so calm, that Dinah looks up to check her countenance is the same.

Her mother smiles at her. "You should. You need to. Sell it and move. I’ll find a new place, small enough for one. Maybe close to Ted, try out proper retirement. It’s about time we lived apart."

"I’ll be a teleporter ride away..."

"I know. Have you thought about where?"

Dinah sighs heavily and looks away again, steeling herself for the next part.

"I was thinking, maybe Star City."

"Green Arrow?"

"Yes. Green Arrow."

Dinah Drake-Lance smiles at her daughter. "Don’t take any of his crap."

Dinah Laurel smiles at her mother. "I never would."
raptorcanaria: (Default)
Dinah Laurel Lance

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Dinah Laurel Lance is from the Post-Crisis, Pre-Flashpoint DC Universe and is © DC Comics.
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