Work Text:
“Is this your first time working in retail?”
Blake McCoven asks Mikayla Leslie as he taps the cash register’s screen, helping to input her staff account.
“Yeah, I guess so. Back home I used to help my folks sell stuff on their farm, but that was like, all manual. Written down.”
“Dang! So you’re new to the city too? Shit, Mikey, and you chose Gotham? You had heard of Gotham’s rep before coming here, right?”
She nods at the greasy blond. She can already tell that this guy’s going to annoy her to no end. He’s only a year younger than her, but he’s certainly getting off on the fact that he’s training someone older than him. Especially a ‘pretty girl’ like her - Blake’s actual words to her after just meeting. She’s only been in his presence for half an hour, but she’s already deduced that this is the kind of person she - and hopefully everyone else - would try to avoid. If the blatant misogyny wasn’t enough of a red flag, he wears enough body spray to choke her and it still fails to disguise the distinct weed smell coming off him. No wonder this guy has been employed at a TJ Maxx his entire working life. It’s probably the only place that’ll hire douchebags like him.
She shrugs, “Uh, yeah. Gotham’s always on the news and stuff. There’s just a lot of jobs for what I just finished studying for.”
“Duh, it’s Gotham, there’s always somewhere hiring. Someone’s gotta fill in for the people who get kidnapped and killed. Like you, farm girl.”
Blake turns his head to look at her and is met with her face which has contorted into a cocktail of shock, disgust and dusted with a slight tint of fear. After a second Blake can’t help but double over, letting out a barking laugh. Tears quickly sprout up in his eyes which he has to wipe away.
“Oh- Oh man! Y-you should see your face, Mikey! Ha! Holy shit. God, I needed a good laugh.”
He manages to compose himself enough to stand up properly then leans against the counter. Seeing Mikey’s face has now morphed into confusion he nudges her with his elbow, playful - or at least, trying to be.
“Im just messing with you! The chick you’re replacing didn’t die or anything. Just finally left this hellhole for a better city or something. I dunno, she was a bitch anyway.”
Blake turns back to the register during his last comment. Something about it makes Mikey think that his last co-worker wasn’t the problem.
“Well it wasn’t funny. You shouldn’t joke about people getting murdered or kidnapped. That’s just.. wrong.”
“Ugh, lighten up.. Geez, I was hoping you’d be fun. Guess you can’t be fun and hot.”
Mikey crosses her arms to cover her chest. God, is it too early to quit?
–
Mikey stands on the balcony of her apartment well before the sun rises, a lit cigarette in hand. It makes sense that she can’t seem to sleep in a city that never does either. It’s the same every night when she gets home from her shifts. Whenever she winds down and tries to get some sleep there's either sirens, noise from her wall neighbours or in the alleys, gunshots or a mix of it all. Having come from the farm life where she couldn’t even see the closest neighbour’s house, the smallest sound wakes her. It’s going to take a long time until she gets used to the constant noise pollution - and pollution in general, she swears some areas of this city are barely breathable.
She tests the stability of the railing with her hip before leaning against it. She doesn’t use all her weight though, she doesn't have a death wish just yet. One positive about her Gotham apartment is that the balcony faces east, giving her a perfect view of the sunrise on sleepless nights like tonight. Watching daybreak is the one constant in her life that followed her to the city. It feels really nostalgic soaking in the fresh rays while filling her lungs with smoke and tobacco. She can practically hear her mother yelling up at her from her spot on the farmhouse roof about her cigarette use. She doesn’t blame her parents for their disdain of her habit, but that didn’t stop her from smoking when she was alone. And now it’s morphed into this intimate act that she likes to do when she’s alone. It’s become a dangerous, regretful comfort that she's too scared to stop. Without cigarettes, what would she have to comfort her? She’s moved out to the big city where there are millions more people and even still, she’s never felt so alone. All she has is her parasitic relationship with these cancer sticks.
“Maybe I should have taken Blake up on his offer to go to that nightclub.. Maybe I could have met someone.”
She continues to stare at the crowning ball of light and takes one more drag of her cigarette before snubbing it out on the railing.
She snorts, “Who am I kidding, I would have left after five minutes.”
Mikey plays with the butt of her cigarette between her fingers until the sun is completely in view. Then she heads back inside.
–
“So, ya seen the Batman yet, Mikey? You’ve been here for like a week now.”
Blake follows her around the store while she actually does her job and stocks shelves. It’s been pretty dead today - like most days.
“Don’t you have something better to do? You know, like your job.”
“I am working. I’m supervising the new girl like Luanne told me to do.”
Mikey rolls her eyes and can barely suppress her scoff that tries to follow. Luanne’s their manager and for some reason she just loves Blake. Mikey thinks it because the older woman is freshly divorced and menopausal, so she’ll just lap up any male attention. Poor woman. She’s really gotta get herself back on the market. Surely there’s a bunch of middle-aged men looking for love. Though in Gotham they’re probably all alcoholics who hate their life. Rough.
“You didn’t answer my question, by the way.”
Blake nudges her, because apparently that’s the only thing he knows how to do. Mikey was in the middle of standing up with a box of stock in her hands and his action almost knocks her over. Blake only laughs when she gives him a look.
“No, I haven’t seen Batman yet. I think I’d rather keep it that way.”
“Why?”
“Because that means I’m not in any danger.”
“That’s dumb. Ya gotta see the Batman, Mikey! He’s like Gotham’s hero, he- he’s in the damn Justice League! How cool is that?”
She shrugs, placing the last of the dishware onto their respective shelves, “Well he’s not doing that good of a job if Gotham is like this.”
“You’re such a hater, Mikey.”
Blake nudges her again, flashing her a miserable attempt at a flirty grin. She brushes him off and starts walking towards the staff only door.
“Don’t be weird. I’m going on a smoke break.”
“Have fun, farm girl!”
Mikey curses under her breath as she rummages through her bag for her lighter and a cigarette, “Christ.. Shoot me now.. That stupid, cock driven piece of–”
“Mikayla! Are you going out for a smoke?”
She cuts off her mumbling and whips her head up to see Luanne sitting over at her desk in the staff room. She didn’t even notice the woman when she came in. She quickly schools her deer in headlights expression and gives her manager a polite smile and nod.
“Luanne, hi! I- yeah, I was just going to have a quick smoke break. Blake said it was alright. I- uh I was getting a bit shaky, you know.”
“Well, if Blake gave you the all clear.”
Mikey nods again and quickly exits out the back door which leads out into a dingy alleyway with only a couple dumpsters lining the store’s back wall.
Effortlessly, she lights her cigarette and brings it to her lips. The first drag is always euphoric and sometimes - depending on the day - bordering on orgasmic. Today’s apparently one of those days. Mikey absolutely melts into that initial feeling. All the tension in her body unravels itself until she’s slid down the wall with her head leant back. She exhales the smoke with a sigh and clings to the residual of her high.
As she sits in the grime, soaking in her tobacco brimmed bliss, the sound of movement on the other side of the dumpsters disturbs her, pulling her back down to Earth. She frowns, but ignores it. It’s probably just rats or stray cats. Maybe even a raccoon, if Gotham has any. She continues smoking, minding her own business, until the sound around the dumpster turns from a rustle to a small groan. A human groan. The hair on the nape of her neck stands up and she freezes, listening. Surely she’s just imagining it. It’ll only be rats.
“Ugh.. Christ..”
Okay, definitely not rats. Unless Gotham rats can speak English now? Mikey snubs out what’s left of her cigarette and slowly gets up, trying to make as little noise as possible. Now’s the time she wishes she had some sort of weapon on her - just in case, you know? As she cautiously approaches the dumpster Mikey can feel her pulse drumming in her ears, her body full of adrenaline and ready to make a hasty escape if needed. Whoever’s just there starts mumbling to themselves again.
“The one time I don’t have any first-aid shit.. Son of a bitch..”
Mikey tilts her head closer to listen then frowns. They’re hurt? She considered walking back into the staff room to ask Luanne where the first-aid kit is. Wait, no, then she’d ask why Mikey wants it. She can’t necessarily say because there’s someone injured out the back of the store, and if she says it’s for her, Luanne would get all up in her business trying to check on her - probably more so for the sake of making sure there’s isn’t an oncoming lawsuit rather than Mikey’s wellbeing. Okay, so that plan’s out the window. She could just go back inside and pretend like she never heard anything? Who is she kidding, Mikey would feel the guilt for the rest of her life. They could be dying for all she knows!
Steeling her nerves, Mikey takes one last deep breath before peeking around the side of the dumpster. Her eyes widen as they take in the person in front of her. Leaning against the store’s wall is a man that couldn’t be much older than herself, holding his side. His hands are stained red with what could only be blood. The man is dressed in black and red kevlar armour with a bat logo painted the same red on his chest. Laying forgotten beside him is a matching red full cover helmet. It had rolled onto its side, likely having been taken off in somewhat of a rush. The get up looks familiar to her and her brows furrow as she wracks her brain for the why. It takes Mikey a second too long for her liking to make the connections. That’s the Red Hood standing there bleeding out in front of her. And she thought it was a damn rat! Wait, isn’t he dangerous?
“Oh shit..”
Mikey doesn't register that she’s spoken until the man in front of her - the Red Hood - whips his head up to make eye contact with her. Surprise floods his face, but a tinge of pain is still apparent on his expression. Mikey straightens up under his gaze, unsure what else to do.
“Uhm, are- are you okay? Obviously not, why would I even ask that– I just–”
“Hand me your lighter.”
Mikey subconsciously tightens her grip on her lighter. It’s just a boring old silver lighter, but she’s had it for as long as she can remember. Who would have thought she’d feel sentimental about it.
“W-what? Why do you want it? You’re bleeding, don’t you need like.. a bandage or something?”
“Do you see any goddamn bandages around here, lady?”
When Mikey doesn’t respond the Red Hood waits a moment and after realising she’s not going to say anything he sighs and takes a deep breath.
“Sorry, I just– I need to use your lighter so I can cauterise this damn cut before I lose any more blood, okay? I’d rather not bleed out behind a TJ Maxx.”
Mikey gives the man a look that’s equal parts dubious and utter disgust.
“You want to.. to cauterise that gash?!” She does her best to keep her voice down so as not to alert Luanne, “That- that’s crazy!”
“Yeah, well I don’t have much of a choice right now. ‘Sides, I’ve been through worse.”
Mikey’s eyes practically bugle out of their sockets at his words. Her body stays frozen in place from shock until the Red Hood stretches out an arm, signaling for her lighter.
“You just gonna keep gawking until I die or what?”
“Oh.. right. Guess we don’t want that. Sorry..”
She steps over just enough to place her precious lighter into his hand. As the man closes his fingers around the metal their hands barely brush against each other. Mikey feels her heart lurch and her eyes shoot up to his at the contact, but the Red Hood is completely unperturbed. Of course he is, he has much bigger concerns at hand than grazing fingers with someone. Like not dying.
“I’m guessing you’re new to Gotham?”
The vigilante’s voice is so casual that you would never guess that he’s bleeding out or about to burn his wound shut. It throws Mikey off a bit, causing her to stumble over her words.
“Wha- Yeah- Yes, uh.. Yeah, I just moved a week ago, I think. How’d you know?”
The corner of his mouth curves upward in a half smirk, half grimace, “You don’t recognise me. There was no reaction to the face under my mask.”
“Oh,” Mikey stands there, suddenly feeling more out of place than she ever has since moving to Gotham, “Should I recognize you? I mean, the whole point of the masks is for anonymity, isn’t it?”
The Red Hood shrugs, somehow nonchalant, “Yeah, but if you were a born and raised Gothamite, you’d know my face. I guess I’ve got luck on my side tonight.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow at his last statement and then makes a point of dragging her eyes down to his hand that is currently covering his bleeding side.
“Eh, you know what I mean. Now, I’m probably gonna need your help here, miss.”
She steps closer to the injured vigilante, his calm appearance giving her a sudden bold confidence to get closer.
“Mikayla. My name’s Mikayla.”
He nods and flicks open her lighter, “Okay, Mikayla, so you can either put the lighter to my side or you can cover my mouth to shut me up, ‘cause this’ll hurt like hell.”
Mikey doesn’t even have to think twice about her decision as she moves around the man and places her hands gingerly over his mouth. She feels him chuckle under her palms before he lights the lighter.
There’s no countdown or warning. The vigilante just pushes the flame into his side and Mikey feels his jaw tense and the rumble of his suppressed pain. She tenses and puts more pressure on his mouth, making out the bones of his teeth behind his lips. This is a surprisingly intimate action despite the situation. She shuts her eyes, mentally scolding herself for even thinking that.
While she’s busy inwardly giving herself a lecture, she realises that the rumble under her hands has stopped and she can feel heavy nasal breaths touching her skin. She quickly opens her eyes and almost rips her hands away from his face. Her eyes dart down to his side which now has a red, agitated burn forming. It looks both disgusting and painful, but at least it closed his wound. Mikey mustn’t have much of a poker on because the Red Hood lets out a snort albeit with a twinge of a hiss.
“It doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks.”
“That’s good then. Though you’ll still need to get some medical attention on that, like ASAP.”
“Yeah. yeah, I know. I don’t need someone else lecturing me. Batman does that enough already.”
“Speaking of Batman.. Why didn’t you call him or one of the others to come get you and help, rather than a random civilian?”
This time the vigilante’s wince doesn’t come from the pain in his side and Mikey immediately understands, “Uh, it’s–”
“Complicated?”
“Yeah..”
She gives him an understanding nod which he returns. A silence stretches over them and then the vigilante remembers that he’s still got Mikey’s lighter.
“Oh yeah..”
He lifts his arm up to hand it back to her and he notices her hesitate. Her expression makes him do a double take and looking down at the lighter makes her face make a lot more sense. The metal rectangle is stained with the crimson of his blood.
“Oh. I’ll.. I’ll get you a new one.”
Before Mikey can even open her mouth to respond the vigilante places his helmet on and practically disappears into thin air. For a moment she just stands there staring at the spot the man was just in and contemplates if she just imagined the entire thing.
—
Mikey walks back into the staff room and nearly jumps out of her skin when Luanne speaks. She had completely forgotten that her boss was still back here.
“Were you talking to someone out there, Mikayla?”
Mikey responds with the first thing that comes to mind, so she doesn’t sound suspect, “Oh, you know.. Just the voices in my head.”
Luanne looks up from whatever it is she does as Mikey heads out to the floor of the store, avoiding any further questioning, “Alright then..”
–
After painstakingly sitting through multiple failed pick-up lines Mikey is finally allowed to borrow Blake's lighter for her smoke break. Ever since hers was covered in blood and taken by the Red Hood a couple days ago Mikey has been asking Blake if she could use his; to which the boy practically jumped at the chance to morph her simple ask into a ‘fair trade’.
“You can use my lighter.. But! I get to try out pick-up lines on you until one works.”
Today’s were.. honestly she wasn’t paying attention. Something about cupid and frogs maybe? Doesn’t matter, she got the lighter and that’s all she needs.
Making a pitstop in the staff room to grab a cigarette, Mikey walks out the back door to her usual work smoking spot. She’s so preoccupied with trying to get Blake’s shitty lighter working that she doesn’t notice the figure standing there waiting for her.
Finally, she gets the lighter ignited, “Aha!”
“Hey.”
“Woah!”
Mikey jumps and fumbles around with the lighter trying not to drop and completely break it. She manages to get a hold of it and whips her head around to find the body attached to the voice. Standing next to the dumpster is no other than the Red Hood himself, with his helmet on this time. It doesn’t stay on for long, however. Mikey hears the helmet’s voice distortion cut off halfway through his laughter as he removes it and holds it under his arm.
“Christ, you scared the hell outta me! I didn’t even notice you.”
He runs a hand through the mop of black hair on his head, “Well, that is half my job, going unnoticed.”
“And the other half?”
“Kicking ass, obviously.”
“Ah, of course.”
“Uh, anyway, I didn’t come here for either of those reasons. I came to deliver this.”
The vigilante shoves his hand into one of his pockets and pulls out a shiny new lighter and offers it to Mikey.
“Told you I’d get you a new one.”
“Oh thank god! I’ve been using my co-workers lighter these past couple days and not only does it barely work, he only lets me use it if he can pathetically try to flirt with me.”
The man snorts at her comment as Mikey holds her new lighter. Her thumb presses into a divet on the metal which grabs her attention. Looking down at it she realises that the divet is actually a part of an engraving. Etched in the metal is an outline of the same bat logo that marks the Red Hood’s chest. He got it engraved. That’s surprising.. A bit egotistical, but surprising nonetheless.
She looks up at him, “You.. got it engraved?”
The man only gives a nonchalant shrug.
“I- I appreciate it, but.. why?”
“Cuz why not? Cooler than just a normal one.”
Mikey laughs, “Well I can’t argue with that, can I?”
Mikey’s laughter dies down and her expression morphs into a slight frown, “Wait a minute.. How’d you even know I would be here today?”
The vigilante lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed by her question, “Ah, I just.. I watched you come in. Street cameras and stuff.”
“Oh, so I have a stalker now?”
Mikey raises an eyebrow at him, accusingly, which makes the man struggle to find his words. Mikey laughs at the fact that a simple look managed to make one of Gotham’s Bats lose composure.
“I’m just messing with you.. kinda. Anyway, thanks for the replacement lighter. I’ve got to get back to work. See ya.”
She flashes him a grateful smile and goes back inside the store before the Red Hood could say anything. He stands there, staring at the door for a few silent seconds before he kicks at a pebble on the ground.
“Yeah. Bye, Mikayla.”
He rubs his face before placing his helmet back on and returning to the city's shadows.
–
Mikey stirs and rolls over in her bed to check the time. Her phone screen almost blinds her as it lights up in the darkness.
“Ugh..”
2:05AM. She’s only been asleep for about three hours, why’d she wake up? Now that she's mostly used to the city’s nightlife, she’s usually dead to the world once her head hits the pillow. Maybe being in Gotham has made her more alert. She places her phone back down and just as she starts to fall back asleep she hears it. A shuffling that sounds like it’s on the balcony of her apartment. Mikey wants to ignore it - it’s probably just a cat or something - but it’s grabbed her brain's attention. She's wide awake now.
Ignoring the temptation to stay cozy under her covers, Mikey sits up and grabs out the mace that she keeps in the drawer of her bedside table. Just in case. The shuffling happens again, but this time it’s followed by the sound of metal scraping on metal. Okay, probably not a cat then. Adrenaline starts to flow through her bloodstream. She lives on the fifth floor! What the hell is on the balcony if not some creature of the night?
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Mikey primes her mace and starts to venture out of the bedroom towards the balcony. The shuffling has become more periodic, but the scraping is almost a constant at this point. The noise reminds her of when someone would try to pick a lock in an action or spy movie. Oh, that does not bode well for her animal theory.
The curtains that cover the glass doors aren’t blackout so the moonlight illuminates the small living room space in her apartment. Mikey pauses and frowns as she thinks. Wait, they’re glass doors. If someone is trying to get in, why not just break through the glass? Maybe they’re trying to be discreet? Do people in Gotham even know the definition of discreet?
Mikey is taken out of her thoughts at the sound of an under-the-breath curse coming from the balcony. A person’s voice should freak Mikey out at two in the morning and absolutely would if she didn’t recognise it. She lets out a sigh and lowers the mace before unwaveringly walking to the balcony doors.
Having known the voice Mikey isn’t shocked to see the black and red clad vigilante on her balcony. She unlocks the glass door and slides it open with conviction. Mikey would have laughed when he jumped back, but she’s too confused to be amused right now.
“What the hell? It’s 2AM!”
The Red Hood lifts his hands up in surrender before responding, “Sorry, sorry. I figured you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you up, which obviously I failed at.”
“Why are you here? I thought you were a robber or murderer or something.”
Mikey crosses her arms. She wants to be mad at the vigilante for trying to break into her apartment, but something tells her that he wouldn’t just do that without a damn good reason. She also doesn’t question that he knows where she lives.
“I.. I just needed someplace just to- to chill out without the guys finding me. They know where all my safehouses are.”
Her expression softens, “The other bats?”
“Yeah, them. You’re starting to sound like a true Gothamite, you know that, Mikayla?”
The vigilante lets out a half-assed laugh and Mikey just gives him a small smile. They both stand in the quiet until Red Hood can’t anymore.
“Look, I, uhm- I’m sorry I woke ya, I can go if you–”
“No it’s okay. C’mon.. come inside.”
Mikey points inside with her head before she walks back into her apartment. Red Hood nods and follows behind her, “Thanks..”
Mikey opts for turning on the floor lamp rather than the harsh ceiling light and it fills the space with a safe, orange warmth. Red Hood slides the balcony door closed as well as the curtain before slipping off his helmet and placing it on the coffee table.
She tilts her head as she takes in his expression. Upset, but trying to keep it hidden.
“Wanna talk about it?”
The man looks up at her like that was the last thing he expected to hear come out of her mouth. He quickly schools that expression.
“Nah, it’s okay. Just family stuff.”
“So they’re your family?”
“I-” He lets out a sigh while rubbing his face, “Dammit..”
Seeing how exhausted and downtrodden the guy looks Mikey feels a tad bad for calling out his slip. She bites the inside of her cheek before speaking again.
“Sorry, that was mean of me. Sit, get comfy, I can tell you’re wrecked. Are you more of a coffee or energy drink kind of guy?”
“At two in the morning? Energy drink. Thanks, Mikayla.”
Just as Mikey is about to pass the threshold of the living room and kitchen areas she turns back to watch the vigilante sink into the couch and place one of many cushions into his lap. He looks up and they make eye contact.
She gives him a smile, “Call me Mikey. All my friends do.”
With that, she slips into the kitchen.
–
The two sit on Mikey’s couch together and talk until the sun goes up. The conversation’s transitions are smooth and their words flow between their bodies like the early morning breeze.
“Hey, have a look at this.”
Mikey stands and walks over to the curtains covering the balcony’s glass doors. She grabs the middle of the sheer fabric and pushes them to the sides. Red Hood has to squint his eyes slightly as what part of the sun has breached in the sky makes itself known. Once his eyes have adjusted he can’t help but feel slightly breathless at the sight of Mikey’s silhouette being drenched in the dawn light.
“Wow..”
“I know right? I get the perfect view of the sunrise.”
Mikey still has her back to the vigilante on her couch, so she doesn’t see his eyes lap her up more than the sky.
“Mhm.”
Red Hood soon manages to snap himself out of his golden daze. As he gets up off the couch he clears his throat. Mikey turns to see him grabbing his helmet and placing it under his arm.
“You heading out now?”
“Yeah, yeah, I probably should. Thanks for letting me stay.. and, uh, sorry for trying to break in.”
Mikey snorts and gives him a dismissive wave, “Eh, luckily I don’t work today. Just give me a heads up if you plan on doing that stunt again.”
He nods and Mikey can tell that the man is trying to work up the courage to say something more. She silently waits.
“Look, Mikayla–”
“Mikey.”
She gives him a smile and his nerves start to wash away.
“Right, Mikey.. Would you maybe wanna.. you know, meet up again, but like, without the mask and at a cafe or something? I know a couple nice places.”
Something in Mikey just melts. This tough and intimidating vigilante who quite literally burned a wound closed in front of her has been reduced to a nervous wreck. It’s honestly really sweet, though she can’t help but tease the man a little.
“I don’t even know your name yet.”
“Jason. My name’s Jason. Jason Todd.”
Mikey smiles, “Well, Jason. I would love to go on a date with you.”