Work Text:
A small army of Batwomen marched at Pride. Their costumes ranged in quality from a red construction paper bat pinned on a black sweatshirt to something that looked almost like functional body armor. Not all the marchers were, strictly speaking, women, but they all wore Kate’s red wig.
Ryan wasn’t marching with them. She rode with Mary on the bar’s float a few lengths back, waving to their patrons in the crowd and tossing out free drink tokens. It was fine, she was happy to be there, but she knew where she’d be happier.
“Do you think I should come out?”
“What?” Mary shot her a confused look. “You’re the manager of a gay bar. I thought it was already sort of implied,” she said like she wasn’t the straight owner of said gay bar.
At least Ryan assumed Mary was straight. She’d never mentioned anyone, guy or girl. Whatever. Ryan shook her head. Mary’s orientation was a conversation for later, they were discussing her now.
“No, I mean—” She jerked her chin towards the Batwomen.
“Oh!” Mary hesitated, biting her lip. “This isn’t a no, but why do you want to?"
That was a good question. Ryan already had enough enemies who knew her identity. The last thing she needed was for more people to figure it out and start coming after her or the people she cared about. Batwoman outing herself as a lesbian would be one step closer to outing herself as her, but some things were worth taking risks for.
“Growing up, Ghost Kid was my favorite superhero. I was queer Black girl in foster care. A hero no one could see felt like as close to representation as I was ever going to get. Then Kate came out and it was amazing, but—” Ryan hesitated. There was representation and there was representation. “How many Black girls do you see marching up there?”
“Um…” Mary craned her neck to check. “Like two, I guess.”
“Yeah, and they deserve a hero they can see themselves in.”
Mary nodded slowly. “You know, we’re right by the tower. You could hop off and slip into something a little more revealing, I mean, not literally revealing, cause of the body armor but—”
“I get you,” Ryan said with a laugh. As much as the suit meant to her, having Mary and Luke in her life meant more. The float slowed as it turned the corner. Ryan clapped Mary on the shoulder and jumped down.
By the time she got down to the Batcave, got changed, and got back out of the Batcave, the parade had moved far enough away that it made sense to just glide down to it off the roof. It made for quite the entrance. The crowd went wild.
“Oh my god, you’re the real Batwoman!” one of the two Black Batgirls gasped. She was about 15 and her outfit looked decidedly homemade.
“Sure am!” The look on the girl’s face alone told her she’d made the right call.
A pair of white women in markedly higher quality outfits exchanged a look. “You know this is Pride, right? I thought O.G. Batwoman was the lesbian.”
“She is,” Ryan said with a shrug. “We both are. It’s practically a job requirement.” And, just like that, Batwoman was out. Again.
The Black girl squeed and threw herself at Ryan. It wasn’t an interview with Catco Media, but this could not have gone better. Five people were already tweeting about it and it would be all over the internet before they hit the end of the block. Wearing the batsuit in the daylight felt a little weird, but it was good to be seen.