twiceahero | Well, that cinches it

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Well, that cinches it

Barbara hadn't really ever intended to use this plan. That was in part because it was bug-nuts insane. But here she was, sitting on a cold metal floor with a few laptops strewn around her and one case she was glad was still here.

It had taken her nearly twenty minutes to get the wetsuit on. Skintight isn't easy to do when you can't move your legs. She starts adjusting the metal braces that let her move around without her legs flailing wildly. Ankles, calves, and thighs cuffed together with a series of bands that will let her lock her legs into one position pretty easily.

Dinah still hasn't checked in yet, and that's worrying. If nothing else, Dinah is a professional, and she knows how serious things are.

Babs finishes locking her legs down and grabs her headset. "Dinah? Come in, Dinah."

Please let her answer this time.

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Ow.

Dinah has a headache. And it's not because she's been drinking.

Dinah has stiff arm and leg muscles from running, fighting, being bound inexpertly at the wrists and ankles before she had a chance to stretch, and then apparently dumped on what feels like a hard metal floor so sleep off the concussion.

Dinah has an uncomfortable knot of hair tangled at the back of her hair from all this happening in a humidity unsuitable for the bleach she uses.

Dinah is grouchy for all this, and being rudely awakened by a tinny voice in her ear.

"Oooooooh. Is that room service?"

Babs pauses in the middle of securing a small keyboard to her wrist. She grins and hides a sigh of relief beneath a slightly bemused tone. "You don't sound so good."

"Better than I feel, Oracle."

It's just as much a relief for Dinah to hear Oracle's synthetic voice. It's been sounding like her elusive partner is having problems of her own. Dinah, at least, isn't all that surprised to be waking up in what appears to be the hold of a light aircraft.

If Dinah's in condition to snark, she's in condition to take out pretty much anything in her way, so Babs relaxes slightly. She clips a small computer to her waist and boots it up.

"So what happened?"

"I got sucker punched by some chick calling herself Queen Vic."

With an effort she rocks herself on her hips to sit up and check out the bindings on her ankles.

...duct tape? They have that much respect for her? She's got to work on her reputation.

"That cinches it," Babs sighs, reaching up to rub at her face while her systems go through self-check procedures.

It sounds like she made the right choice activating this contingency after all...

"It does? Cinches what?"

Sometimes it still surprises Dinah how little she knows about what's going on. Especially as she's the one tied up and being taken who knows where.

"It's Blockbuster." Which Babs has suspected, but now she's sure.

"Lady Vic is one of his first choices for murder." And no one else really seems to think she's worth employing, so...

Dinah wonders why!

(Seriously, duct tape?)

"Well, they're looking for you," she says, arching her back as she twists her ankles against each other.

Not that this is surprising, but Babs can't stop herself from double-checking. "For 'Oracle' by name?"

If it's just Blockbuster, she has a shot. He's dangerous, but she knows his patterns well enough to manipulate him.

Probably.

"I think that's all they know," Dinah adds helpfully. "Like you're an urban legend or something."

And urban legend Dinah had never heard of at all until she was randomly invited to Gotham about two years ago.

Barbara takes a deep breath. "I'm going to break a rule here..."

She pauses, biting at her lower lip before plowing on. "How soon can you get back to Gotham?"

"To my place?"

Dinah doesn't really live in her place, these days. If she's not on a mission for Oracle, she's living at the JSA headquarters. Which admittedly could be where Oracle's really referring to.

Whatever the answer is, it would depend where this plane is taking her.

"My place," Barbara corrects, shaking her head even if Dinah can't see it.

"Well," she corrects, "my vacation home, anyway." Her backup. The one that she can totally destroy without becoming non-operational.

What a circumstance to finally get to meet her best friend and partner. Things must be serous.

Dinah pauses in her efforts to free her feet, now seriously worried.

"You think they'll find you, Oracle?"

"I think I might have to let them find me." Even though computerized voice distortion her tone is wry.

But at least she'll get to see Dinah again. Even if she could have wished for better circumstances.

...

"Huh?"

That's it, Dinah's getting out of these retraints. Oracle's gone crazy.

"My work is too important." Not just with Dinah, but with all the other people who come to her for information.

"I can't risk exposure." And that means she can't be on the run. She needs to deal with this Blockbuster thing fast and decisively.

"I have a plan to get Blockie off my back." Then, more to herself than to Dinah, "...if it works."

"But it would definitely work better with some help." Especially if that help can take down Blockbuster's entire goon squad without breaking a sweat. "Can you be in Gotham soon?"

Having rocked onto knees Dinah is able to check out of the window.

And see the familiar coastline of the south east USA passing under her.

"Uh huh," she says. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

And with her feet free, levering her hands free is just detail.

Babs is about to say something else when a warning pops up on one of her screens.

They've back-traced her satellite signal! Her finger stabs out to cut the connection between Dinah and herself before she makes the conscious decision to do it.

Well, Dinah said she could make it to Gotham. That's good enough for now.

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Well, that cinches it

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