Chapter Text
Parties were a really good place to find supervillains and/or vigilantes. It was because nobody could keep that up as a job without an actual source of income. Bette considered crunching some numbers as she navigated the ballroom--what percentage of the rich idiots with no day jobs were really living double lives as professional themed fighters?
“Excuse me,” a young woman said from behind her.
“Yes?” Bette said, turning. Her gray eyes locked with the woman’s brown ones, and suddenly she felt like a little girl again, first seeing Robin doing all those stupid flips with that smile and that cute little derrière, smacked over the head by the abrupt recognition of human perfection.
The woman stuck out a silver-gloved hand to shake hers. “Mary Kane? I heard you just got out of the army. How’s civilian life treating you?”
“Please, it’s Bette, miss…” Bette said, shaking it and hoping her voice wasn’t wavering.
“Kathleen Duquesne,” she smiled, her dimples seeming to nearly reach the thick locks of dark hair that framed her face. Her hair was mostly pinned up in an elegant but simple updo which Bette’s eyes wandered to before they were drawn back to her face. “You can call me Kathy, if you like.”
“I’ll stick with Kathleen, if that’s alright,” Bette said. “Katherine’s a kind of common name in my family, so I know a lot of Kathys.”
Kathleen smiled. “That’s fine. It’s nice to meet you, Bette.”
“You as well,” Bette said, then, overcome with nervousness and desperately hoping she hadn’t lost her party etiquette over the years, she added, “I was thinking of taking a walk outside, if you’d like to join me.”
“I’d love to,” Kathleen said, taking Bette’s arm and smoothly moving toward the door, more than keeping stride with her. Her long white-silver dress shone slightly pink in the light, like an opal with fewer hidden colors. It practically glowed against her pale brown skin.
“One of the appealing things about L.A. was the climate,” Bette said as they stepped onto a mostly-abandoned patio, light spilling out of the room they left behind. “Back home in Gotham, they’re probably salting the roads right about now.”
“The way reports come in from Gotham, I’d think you’d never know what the weather would be like,” Kathleen said. “What with the supervillains and general chaos, not to mention that volcano thing a few years ago.”
Bette laughed. “Yeah, I was at West Point during that whole mess, although I’m told it was nothing special.”
“It seems to me that Gotham wouldn’t know ‘special’ if it ran up and kissed them,” Kathleen said.
“Let’s hope that hasn’t rubbed off on me,” Bette said, heart pounding. She set a hand on the marble railing to steady herself, and felt Kathleen’s hand settle on it.
“Miss Duquesne?”
Bette jerked back, while Kathleen simply closed her eyes and sighed before turning to the newcomer, a nervous-looking Asian man in a black suit. “What is it, Richardson?”
“Your father wants you, miss,” he said, eyeing Bette.
Kathleen looked back at Bette, sighed, and said, “Duty calls. Can I make it up to you by treating you to dinner?”
Bette smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ll call you,” Kathleen said, turning and grabbing Richardson’s arm to practically drag him inside. In the doorway, she looked back and blew a kiss. Bette waved back. Then Richardson and Kathleen were gone, and Bette turned back to look at the sky.
(It was too smoggy to see the stars. Some things didn’t change.)