capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

WHO:

batmantled
WHERE: A park near the grocery store!
WHEN: Monday afternoon
WARNINGS: None thus far.
SUMMARY: Andromeda attempts to bring out the mothering instincts in Dick.
FORMAT: Prose to start.

Andromeda had been mildly surprised to find that Dick had messaged her wanting to meet today; she'd met him briefly dropping off the banana bread for the two of them when he and Damian had moved into their new home, but they hadn't spoken for too long.

Evidently she'd made an impression, and not a negative one; she'd gone into work early this morning so she could leave early as well in order to meet Dick. She wasn't one-hundred percent sure what exactly she was going to help him with, but the vibe that she'd gotten was that she was going to give him some advice on meal-planning. That was just fine with her -- there had been a time when she'd been a young newlywed with almost no abilities to grocery shop, nevermind make her own food.

She still wasn't an exceptional cook, but she was good enough to at least make a few basic things to feed a family. She stepped into the park and dropped down onto the nearest bench, keeping her eye out for Dick while she nursed a coffee. She'd brought one for him as well if he was interested.

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Seeing her there waiting on the bench like desperate plees for help from strange men are somehow a regular occurrence is actually a little gratifying. Given the situation he wouldn't have blamed her at all if she'd stood him up. Still, there's no backing down now.

He offers a hand to catch her attention, then heads over at an even pace and sops a comfortable distance away.

"Thanks for showing..."

She smiles briefly and shrugs her shoulders, standing and holding out the coffee to him.

"I brought you a drink if you're interested; I didn't know how awake you'd be. And you're welcome -- anything I can do to help, really." It isn't all that strange to have someone coming to her for motherly advice. In truth, she's flattered that he asked her, and she is glad to make Damian's life a little better in whatever small ways she can.

He takes the drink and has to stare for a moment, oddly touched. "Never a time when I'm not up for a little caffeine." He takes a sip and then tries a grin.

"You wouldn't believe how Damian can guzzle the stuff."

"My feelings exactly." She raises an eyebrow when he tells her that Damian has his own caffeine addiction. "No straight coffee for Damian, I hope. I could never really stand that until I started working at the hospital. Long night-shifts and all."

She takes a sip of her own drink. "But I'm guessing that you aren't here to have me talk about my coffee-drinking habits. You asked me for help, but I'm not -- ah, sure where we should start, so did you have any questions?"

He's has to tense a little at that, since lol yeah he drinks whatever he wants and I can't do anything about it is probably pretty far outside the realm of acceptable answers. He runs a hand through his hair, offering an awkward little shrug.

"...I need to step it up. Turns out I'm failing a little more than I thought I was at the domestic side."

Andromeda pauses to consider the answer. That probably means that Damian's going to drink it no matter what, but, "You should tell him it stunts his growth. I don't know if that's true or not, really, but it kept my eldest sister away from it for a while."

She nods. "It honestly happens to all of us. You should've seen the first year or so of me living on my own after having been taken care of all my life. I think I burned a year's supply of bread in the toaster." When in doubt, use humour to lighten the mood -- right?

"What have you particularly been having troubles with?"

"...He had an accident not too long ago. And he's gonna be okay, but-" He sighs and takes a seat on that newly vacated bench. Hopefully Andromeda wont mind sharing.

"He needs stuff to eat that doesn't cap out at coffee and takeout. And it's been since I really... cooked much."

Her lips purse for a moment. "As long as he's going to be all right." She thinks she should go check on him, but then again -- she's not his mother.

Andromeda doesn't at all mind sharing the bench with Dick. It makes it easier for her to turn her attention completely toward him. "Especially if he's sick, soups are a good idea. It's easier to keep him hydrated that way. Fruit juices aren't a bad idea either, as long as he's not drinking litres of them a day."

"I'd also recommend a crock-pot if you find you're busy during the day. You throw everything into it in the morning and then it's magically ready eight hours later."

She gets an eyebrow at the word crockpot, but for good measure he takes out a notepad and jots down the buzz words. Crockpot, soup, not too much fruit juice.

"If you can believe it, we had somebody else taking care of us at home," he hesitates, then adds magic to the list. "Our, uh. Butler.

"I know Damian misses him."

She sees you taking notes there, Dick.

"I'm not surprised by that at all, actually. Up until I got kicked out of my house, I was being waited on hand and foot. Not by a butler, but by house elves and mistresses -- but, ah. Neither of those ever stayed around long enough to really get attached to, though."

And really, that was partly her fault. "But you didn't ask me here to tell you about my childhood, did you? It's hard when people you're used to having around aren't there, especially in a new city."

It's equally as strange when people you aren't used to having around are there, though.

"...I don't mind," -before it occurs to him that saying it out loud might come across a little strange. He drops his gaze back to the list instead, under the guise of studying it for obvious gaps. He adds house elves closer to the bottom of the page.

"...I had to leave town for a while when I was younger, too. Funny the way things change, huh?"

"Mmm. Then I'm sure you're also familiar with just how difficult the transition can be." She smiles, leaning in to peer at his list for a moment. It's mostly to tease him, but he does seem to have some good things down there.

She takes a sip of her coffee. "Is there anything that you or Damian really don't like to eat? I can start looking for recipes, but it's good to have -- limitations."

"...Anchovies," It's the first thing that comes to mind. "...But I'm sure you're busy. I mean, you don't have to-" make an effort is what he wants to say.

Andromeda notes this mentally. Not something she cooks with often anyway, really.

"Not too busy to take five minutes and look for something. Besides, I've got a bad habit of making too much of something that tastes mediocre but is relatively nutritious and then pawning it off on other people. I'm sure my daughter is getting sick of banana bread and Shepherd's pie." And she wants Damian to be well-fed, damnit.

"Not like it isn't good banana bread," in case she needs the encouragement. Tonks he's only met once, but she seems a little like the type. He eyes her a sideways finally, hesitating before he speaks again.

"...Maybe let me pay you back somehow."

Banana bread is one of the few things she's actually sure that she's good at, but the sentiment is appreciated. She's not sure what the look is for until he speaks.

She raises her eyebrow at him, head tilted to the side slightly. "Pay me back? What did you have in mind, exactly?" She's still an ambitious Slytherin still; she's not adverse to being compensated for her efforts.

He hides a small smirk, ducking his head a little before he glances back in her direction. A little cautiously: "...You throw a good punch?"

That gets him a blink.

"Not a terribly good one, no." She's really only ever hit a few people in her life with actual fists, since magic spells were more the trend in school and beyond.

If he's going to offer her self-defense skills, well. That might actually be useful in this place -- a little more subtle than magic, at least.

"Well, I'm not, uh. All that good. But if you wanted a refresher..." And cue small, self-deprecating shrug.

"-I could be your guy."

"I never say no to a refresher in anything." Or at least -- anything that might give her an advantage in a given situation.

She smiles just a little teasingly. "As long as you promise to go easy on an old lady."

"Funny I don't forsee that being an issue." But she gets a grin anyway as he stands up.

"...Likewise too. With the cooking."

"You'll say that right up until I break a hip."

Okay, so she knows that won't happen - but she's also pretty sure that she isn't up to par for fighting with someone who's as in shape as she assumes someone with Dick's body must be (not that she's paying much attention to that -- just a little, maybe).

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