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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 2 years

Text

A light misunderstanding

Thanks to @newdog14 for this idea!!

Duke sighed as his ears caught onto a quiet spritzing sound. His shoes scraped against the concrete roof that he had been so prepared to jump off of as he came to a skidding stop.

Fingers found their way to his helmet and he turned a tiny knob hidden on the side. Instantly, every sound increased in volume. He could hear faint chatter from inside the building beneath him, the whirr of an old air conditioning unit, a family of raccoons rustling through a nearby dumpster…

And, most importantly, he could hear the quiet psst of a spray can. Like a whisper, begging him to come closer and realize its secrets.

His head tipped to the side when he didn’t catch any of the familiar things that usually came along with graffitiing. There was no laughter, no hushed whispers… there wasn’t even the rattle of a spraycan or a steady stream of paint. Instead, the sound came in short, rapid bursts.

He narrowed his eyes just slightly behind his helmet and made his way over to the sound, careful to keep his steps quiet as he peered over the ledge of the building, into an alley.

He found a woman. She was clearly not concerned with her identity, as she had made no efforts to hide her hair, which was dyed a deep blue that wasn’t quite dark enough to be mistaken for black. Her clothes were simple, a red t-shirt and jeans, but they showed off a myriad of scars from cuts and scrapes that had long-since healed over.

She didn’t seem dumb, though. A bright red headphone wire snuck out from her back pocket and wound its way up to one of her ears, but the other end hung limp, leaving her ear open to keep a lookout in case someone caught her.

But caught her doing what? Because she wasn’t spray painting.

Her back was to him as she worked, leaning close to the wall as she sprayed it with what seemed to be a regular spray bottle – the kind you used on plants or misbehaving cats or asshole siblings, not the kind you would normally use on a wall. Occasionally, she would look down at a notebook in her opposite hand, nod slightly as if confirming something to herself, and then keep going.

Suddenly, her shoulders tensed. She glanced from side to side, clearly aware of his eyes on her, but no one ever thought to look up. Still, she didn’t calm down when she found nothing. Her notebook snapped closed and she shoved it into a tote bag on her shoulder hastily.

She glanced down to check her shoes.

Clearly preparing to run.

He dropped down behind her, allowing his shoes to scuff on the gravel, and couldn’t help the faint amusement that he felt when she screeched and dropped the spritzer. The plastic bottle hit the ground with a series of tunk, tunk, tunk! sounds.

It was less funny when she instantly whirled around and tried to punch him while he was distracted by the spray bottle.

He dodged, but just barely, and backed up a few steps.

Thankfully, she relaxed when he was apparently far enough away for her to feel comfortable. She didn’t relax enough to drop her fight stance (which was very good for something she had dropped into instinctively, she was probably formally trained) but she seemed less punch-y, so Duke was going to take the win.

He, hesitantly, making sure to choreograph his movements, knelt down to pick up the spray bottle. He tilted the bottle this way and that, watching the way the liquid moved, trying to determine whether it was secretly some sort of dangerous chemical.

He was tempted to spray it in his mouth as a final test, the way his helmet was shaped would have allowed for it, but he managed to stop himself.

It wasn’t necessary, anyways, it was almost definitely water. It had the same approximate viscosity and everything.

Which just brought a new question:

“Were you seriously watering a wall?”

Her ears reddened and he was willing to bet that she was blushing behind the black surgical mask that covered the bottom half of her face.

“Uh… nooooooo…?” She tried.

He snorted. “Why?”

“Well, uh, you know that American saying? ‘It’s like watching a wall dry’? I figured I would test it out as a whole ‘welcome to the States!’ kind of deal. So!” She reached back to pat the wall with her hand. Her eyes glimmered with something he couldn’t quite name for a moment, but then she blinked and it was gone, leaving a much more tired and on-edge person in its wake. “Watered a wall.”

“That’s about paint,” he said, raising an eyebrow even if he knew she couldn’t see it.

She snapped her fingers, her eyes crinkling in amusement behind her mask. “Dang. Well, thanks for telling me, I’m going to go paint my new house!”

He snickered. She was obviously lying, but he couldn’t bring himself to be nervous when she was obviously so worried. It was like the thing you told little kids to make them less scared of bugs – they’re more scared of you than you are of them.

As if to confirm this thought, her smile lessened slightly and she looked around as if gauging whether or not she should just make a break for it.

She seemed to decide against it.

“... if you’re going to let me go, of course.” There was something in her tone, in her eyes, in the tense line of her body, that screamed that he wasn’t really getting a choice.

He didn’t mind that much. Duke had already been planning on letting her go. Even when he had thought that she was graffitiing, he wasn’t intent on doing anything – she would have been doing her work in an alley, where there were no chances of it harming the reputation and/or sales of local businesses. Really, that was all he cared about.

He had nothing against people that graffitied, he actually rather enjoyed the art. There was something so undeniably human about it. People wanted to be seen and known and remembered. What was not to love?

But that wasn’t what she was doing, apparently. Even if she had been, apparently, very determined to spray the wall in a specific pattern hidden within the notebook she had hidden in her bag…

“There’s nothing illegal about spraying water on a wall,” he said, shrugging. “I was just curious about what you were doing.”

“Getting rid of the city’s bad vibes, clearly,” she said in a tone that strangely teetered the line between joking and serious.

Still, he humored her: “Clearly.”

She glanced into her bag briefly, itemizing her things (Duke could make out a cloth of some sort and the spine of the notebook, but nothing else). Her eyes flicked to the spritzer still in his hand.

“I’m keeping this to take a sample of the liquid. Just in case.”

“Ugh. I’m going to have to buy a whole ‘nother one, now.”

“I’m sure those five dollars will be missed.”

Her eyes blew wide in mock horror. “Five dollars? Buddy, you’ve been scammed.”

“Aw. Damn. I guess my five dollars will be missed, then.”

Her eyes crinkled behind her mask again.

“Well, it’s been nice, Signal, but I hope we don’t meet again. You scared the crap out of me.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t commit crimes and I won’t bother you.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“See you never, then.”

She winked and gave a two finger salute as she stepped out of the alley.

Duke watched her go, watched the way she started pulling the army green cloth out of her bag as she disappeared around a corner, and then turned back to the wall.

It was… a wall. He could still make out a few water droplets dotting the surface.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. Looked down at the probably-water in his hand.

“Huh.”

He took a quick sample to confirm that the substance was just water.

“Huh.”

He glanced at the wall one last time before setting the bottle of definitely-water back down in case she ever came back.

And then went back to patrols, completely ready to forget about the strange woman.

Of course, his life was never quite that simple.

Over the next few weeks, sigils made of moss started cropping up all over the city.

As the Only Meta Allowed In Gotham (excluding the other million or so exceptions), magic tended to fall under his jurisdiction. The fact that the designs were made of plants, something that required sunlight and indicated that it was something done during the day time, just added to this fact. It was his responsibility to deal with it, the universe had apparently decreed it.

So, he worked. He discovered the existence of moss graffiti, an art form where the person uses a mixture of blended moss, yogurt, and water as a kind of paint… often maintained carefully using a spray bottle and, occasionally, gardening scissors if the person wanted to make sure the designs stayed in shape.

His mind found its way back to the strange woman and his head fell to bang against his keyboard.

And then he headed out.

It was a rare sunny day in Gotham, though he had noticed they’d been getting them far more frequently as of late. (“Global warming,” Steph had said mournfully as she struggled to squeeze any more sunscreen from the tube in her hand.) He wasn’t going to complain, it certainly made using his powers easier.

He felt great as the sun beamed down at him.

He wondered, idly, whether he could photosynthesize.

(Either way, it would be funny to tell his siblings that he did. Maybe this one wouldn’t even backfire on him like the ‘I can see shrimp colors’ bit had. Stupid scientists and their stupid scientific discoveries and breakthroughs, proving him wrong. Didn’t they know he had siblings to screw with?)

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind for the time being. He needed to concentrate.

For once, he was glad that Bruce was annoyingly obsessive about making sure everything was recorded in excruciating detail at the end of their shifts, because he doubted that he would have bothered to remember the exact location that he had met her otherwise.

He peered over the building for the second time and grimaced upon seeing the design climbing across the walls. Not because it looked bad or anything, he actually thought it looked quite pretty. The green stood out beautifully against the decaying deep reds and browns of the brick surrounding it. The design itself was rather interesting, too, a long rectangle that had been filled with jagged lines and swooping curves that he couldn’t make sense of but could still say was objectively nice to look at.

But he still groaned.

He hopped down to peer at the lines of moss. They were carefully maintained, which was to be expected. The art of magic was a volatile thing, prone to bite chunks out of the user and then spit them out wrong at the first given opportunity.

Duke was tempted to grab the nearest piece of moss and tear it out of the wall but, again, magic was volatile. He eyed the design for a few moments, mentally going over everything he knew, but he couldn’t remember seeing anything like it. He had no clue what the best course of action was for removing whatever spell the woman had cast on the place.

… his best bet was likely getting her to undo it.

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

Considering the fact that the spray bottle was gone and the edges were clean… he figured it was safe to assume that she would come back semi-frequently. He pressed a motion sensor to the wall, hidden partially behind a couple of trash cans, and then started up.

Only to find that he hadn’t needed to do that at all.

A quiet squeak at the end of the alley grabbed his attention.

The woman stood there, her hand still caught halfway through the motion of pulling her mask up over her mouth and nose – showing off a splattering of freckles across her cheeks – and her blue eyes wide. Her eyes flicked from him, to the design, and then back to him again.

“Oh, c’mon,” she hissed. “Tikki, we are going to have words about these stupid side effects.”

Before he could even think about asking her what she meant, she was rushing away.

Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t aware of his own magic.

Colors streaked. The world around him slowed. He raced after her, watching the blur of red and dark blue slip through crowds. Watched as it morphed into an army green as she pulled a hoodie and black beanie out of her tote bag for a quick disguise. Watched as she tucked the tote into her pocket. Watched as she raced down another alley with full intentions of disappearing into another crowd.

If he was anyone else, if he were normal, she would have gotten away.

But he wasn’t, and he snatched her up by her hood.

The world whirled back to its normal speed and she made a choking sound as the fabric of her hoodie dug into her neck. She whipped around, trying her hardest to shake her way out of the confines of her hoodie.

He held fast, grabbing the hand that swung his way and pinning her back against the nearest wall. Her legs and other fist beat against him, but she didn’t have enough room to put any real force behind her attacks and his armor protected him well.

She sighed and slumped, letting her head tip forward to rest against his chest.

And then she slammed her head up.

He groaned as she hit him in the jaw – why wasn’t his mouth properly protected again?! – and stumbled back, letting go to try and deal with the stars dancing in his eyes.

Thankfully, she had clipped herself on the bottom of his helmet and she wasn’t faring too well, either, so she wasn’t running away quite yet. She pressed a hand to the area she had hit him with and barely caught herself against the wall to prevent herself from sprawling across the gross Gotham alley ground.

He backed up until he touched the other wall.

The both of them were panting. Eyeing each other even as they clutched their aching heads.

“So, want to talk this out like normal people, or…?”

She stared. “What?”

“You heard me,” he groaned, pushing himself off of the wall.

She watched him carefully, as if expecting a trick, but he just walked to the nearest dumpster and pushed it so they could use it to get up onto the fire escape of the nearest building.

He gestured proudly to the makeshift staircase. “Your highness,” he said, holding out a hand with an overdramatic bow.

Something akin to amusement danced behind tired eyes and she took the hand, allowing him to help her up.

“Your service stinks, I hope you know,” she said on the way up.

He sighed. “Yeah, no, you’re definitely a Rogue. Got the bad puns down.”

She rolled her eyes. “There was more to the pun, actually.”

“Oh god. Spare me.”

From the mischievous gleam in her eyes, he was able to tell before her mask was even moving that she was about to not do that.

“I was going to say ‘but, at least business is picking up’.”

“I hate you,” he said, groaning, but the biting insult didn’t mean much when there was a wide grin stretching across his face.

After a couple of minutes, they were both on top of the roof. Their legs dangled over the side. She had taken off her hoodie again but left the beanie there. He leaned back on his hands.

She tipped her head back, clearly enjoying the sun on her face. He wished he could do the same, but his helmet didn’t make that easy.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“Why moss?”

She gave him an odd look, as if she hadn’t expected that to be his first question. Which was fair. He hadn’t expected that to be his first question, either.

“Figured civilians would be less likely to mess with it. It’s clearly magic, and it’s made of plants, so they would probably just assume it was Poison Ivy’s doing and leave it alone.”

He tipped his head to the side. That was pretty smart.

He should… probably be smart too. Ask the questions that were actually important:

“What are the sigils and how do I get rid of them?”

She sent him a glare out of the corner of her eyes. “Don’t. Those were a pain to make.”

He hummed lightly. “Sorry, can’t leave out the eco-terroristic magic. Think that would probably not help the city I’m supposed to be in charge of protecting.”

“That’s being dramatic. It’s just moss.”

“Oh? And what does it do?” He scoffed.

“Dispel bad energy.”

He blinked.

She couldn’t see that behind the helmet, but she took his silence for the surprise it was. She smiled again, but there was something wry to this one. “What? I was telling the truth. This place has bad vibes. I’m trying to clear out some of it.”

He was quiet for a moment. He looked away from her, at the horizon. The sun was still up, something that he had even noted beforehand was strange for Gotham.

“Huh,” he said quietly. “I’ve been dealing with Rogues for way too long.”

She gave a startled laugh.

Her laugh was nice, not too soft but not harsh either. He was kind of proud of dragging it out of her, even if he was still embarrassed about the misunderstanding.

Speaking of…

“Why’d you run?”

“Because the last time you said that you were going to let me go because I wasn’t doing anything illegal, and this time you had proof that I was damaging private property… also, there’s that whole…” She waved her hand vaguely. “No Metas In Gotham thing.”

He hummed his understanding. “Both of those are fine… I mean, obviously, don’t go marking up the fronts of buildings – or breaking and stealing stuff, probably should have said those ones first – but I don’t really mind. Gotham alleys don’t really belong to anyone… and the whole No Metas In Gotham thing doesn’t really matter. No one listens to it. I’m here, for one. But even if I was the exception, Red Robin breaks the rule all the time to bring his superpowered boyfriend over.”

She grinned. “The only real excuse for breaking rules: superpowered boyfriends.”

He snorted. “You have one?”

“Not yet,” she said, winking jokingly.

He cleared his throat, glancing away, and she laughed again. Why couldn’t she laugh when he wasn’t embarrassing himself?

He struggled to find another topic to distract her from the way that he was fidgeting restlessly. “Uh – so – you’re a meta. Born or made?”

“Made? Really, is that the best word you could come up with?”

He groaned. “You know what I mean.”

“I straight up spawned,” she said, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but grin.

“Made,” she said. “Helped a god save their friend from some guy that was using them for evil, got a blessing, you know how it is.”

“Indeed I do,” said Duke, even as he wondered why Diana hadn’t given him a super cool blessing. “World’s messed up.”

She hummed her agreement. “What about you? Born or made?”

“Born. Blood’s all weird.”

She nodded sagely, as if those few simple words could explain all the secrets of the universe. Maybe it could. Duke didn’t pretend to be all-knowing.

He tipped his head to the side and sent her a cheeky grin. “I don’t imagine that you’d tell me your abilities just because I asked?”

“Not unless you tell me yours first,” she chirped.

He hesitated but, really, it felt weird to tell her nothing when she was giving up so much without a fuss. And she was surprisingly easy to talk to. She was funny, and it was nice having someone to talk to that might actually understand.

If Bruce got mad he could always say he was only doing it because he wanted to figure out her magic and didn’t want to risk pissing her off. She could have some kind of magic that would tell her when he was lying. He didn’t know yet.

He snapped his hands and a ball of light appeared in his palms.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

But then she gave an actual, real laugh as she leaned forward to inspect it. Her eyes lit up, and he thought that it was likely only partially because of the ball of light in front of her face.

His smile softened.

“I can manipulate light and darkness, that one’s obvious, everyone knows that… I can also see a few moments into the past and future by seeing the light signatures and how they interact with the environment… I can telescope my eyes and microscope them… I can travel through shadows… I also might be immortal? I don’t know about that one, I’m not super intent on testing it anytime soon.”

She hummed lightly, her eyes still transfixed on the light.

He let the light wink out and she huffed. He couldn't see a large chunk of her face, and yet he knew she was pouting.

“Your turn.”

She gave up the information easily enough: “Blessed by the god of creation. She’s pretty generous. Increased abilities, lengthened lifespan, creation magic – I’m best with plants, but I can do some other stuff, too – and basic magic, too.”

“Creation magic?”

She sent him a cheeky look as she snapped his fingers but, instead of a ball of light appearing in her palm, a tiny dandelion sprouted and tucked itself behind her ear.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “You can grow plants automatically? Why didn’t you just do that?”

“‘Cause the side effects would suck,” she said, some of her amusement fading. Now that that was gone, she did look a little more tired than she had been even a few seconds beforehand.

And hadn’t she mentioned the side effects back in the alley?

She had called the god of creation ‘generous’, so it couldn’t be too bad or he imagined she would be genuinely bitter, but he couldn’t help but be a little concerned. She was doing a lot of magic. Duke and his family had counted over twenty sigils in the past month – that was more than one every two days even if they hadn’t missed any.

He hesitated. “You don’t have to answer this one, it seems like it might be personal, but… what are your side effects?”

She thought for a moment. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, clearly trying to gauge something. Whatever she saw seemed to convince her to tell him:

“Because the magic isn't technically mine, I have to deal with the usual tiredness and my karma takes a hit.”

He winced. He couldn’t imagine having serious side effects when it came to his powers.

“I mean, really, what were the chances I would have run into you in that alley twice?”

“I don’t think that was too unlucky,” he said quietly.

Her mask moved as she opened her mouth to argue, but then it seemed to hit her what he meant. He smiled as he watched her ears flare red.

“Oh.”

He hesitated, glancing to the side. “Want to go out for a coffee so I can make up for… all of this? I know a really good place nearby.”

She glanced to the side. “Coffee would be hard, considering…”

“I’ll wear a domino mask, we can get you a straw to slip under your mask.”

She looked back at him, and her eyes crinkled in a smile.

“Then I would love to.”

#maribat #dukinette #i guess #points at duke #this is my beloved i would die for him he is perfect and i want to give him the world #he is so <3 #anyways #meetcute #i really looked at this and went how many misunderstandings can i fit in this #and then proceeded to add even more #hehe #also #they have complimentary powers #and i love that for them #duke thomas #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #signal

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