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[ Crouched behind a wall on rooftop of the Gotham General Hospital, Nightwing knows his options are limited. He draws a spare batarang and holds it beyond the protection of his cover. Hopefully, its reflective surface offers a view of the sniper that’s been keeping him in one place... and time is of the essence. His pal Wally West, a.k.a. The Flash, is en route to the hospital to retrieve a heart that’s fit for transplant. Right away, it’s got to be transported to Fawcett City in order to save the life of a very important legislator - someone who advocates for world peace and whose political achievements make Lex Luthor look like a joke. The stakes, then, are simply too damn high. So Nightwing was right about his hunch - Talon could do without this legislator getting in the way of their machinations, so they’re here to sabotage any attempt at a heart transplant.

At this point, Nightwing’s effectively the last line of defense until the Flash arrives. And with a sniper so good that they can corner him... he’s in for a rough time. The moment he takes out his batarang, after all, in his attempt to catch a glimpse of his opponent, the batarang is merely fired off his hand. ]

Okay. They’ve got the aim and the higher ground... this really isn’t in my favor.

Unless...

[ Dick’s resorted to muttering to himself, but he’s not out of resources yet. He’s spent a lot of his gadgets on wasting multiple Talon moons on the lower floors, but he has one or two smoke pellets at his disposal. He really didn’t want to use them now, but life’s just full of little concessions.

He’s just going to have to take this one. He readies his grapnel gun, knowing full well what he’s got to do next.

From Widowmaker’s end, a thick cloud of smokes forms in the vicinity of her target. It might be predictable, but it’s admittedly functional as a way to even the odds.

Her target slips through the darkness between these buildings so seamlessly, it’s a wonder he didn’t do this sooner.

It’s not long, though, before she senses a presence behind her. ]

Hey there!

[ A presence, by the way, that delivers a somersaulting drop kick to her back, courtesy of Bludhaven’s best. ]

Mind if I drop in?

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[ She does know, it was from the building just down from hers that the heart was being sent. All the doctors knew, which had made Angela somewhat nervous... and with good cause, it seems. She's glad to be able to nod, though. ]

Three days. The transplant arrived, the operation was a success. [ And with the quirk of a brow: ] I believe the Flash was picking up the package just as you were being doused with curare. It may be due to your distractions that whoever was too busy to intercept him.

[ She'd love a little more information on that whoever, but... she has a feeling it will just be ghosts in the night, even if he can tell her. It always is. Untraceable, lethally skillful people that the law can do very little about. ]

Edited 2017-12-16 15:04 (UTC)

Phew! So it was a success overall. Good to know I didn't screw up too badly.

[ Dick would love to express his relief through some body language, but saltily, he resigns himself to his vegetable-itude. ]

The assassin was Talon, I think. Her organization, that is.

[ When there are assassins called Talons from an entirely different criminal organization, it's best to clear up the terminology. ]

You might know her, Ms. Overwatch. I certainly don't.

[ He quirks his own brow, now. ]

Does a blue-skinned sniper in purple spandex sound familiar to you?

[ Her face quite clearly says she's not sure if didn't screw up too badly really applies here... until the description of the assailant. She'd thought ghost in the night, and she may have been more right than she knew. Her face clouds, but she offers a nod. ]

I know enough to say you are very lucky to be speaking with me now. I have heard she only needs one shot per victim.

[ Which just brings her right back to unhappiness that he'd been in this situation at all. She leans in, a hand moving to settle overtop his. ]

You should not have been alone — don't you have a partner to work with?

One shot was clearly enough to kill me.

[ He eyes her hand for a second, and smiles as if to say the contact is welcome. ]

I'm touched that you care, Doctor. But normally, I work alone.

[ Which, of course, is not to say always. ]

And in my defense, I kept her on her toes more than she'd liked.

That said, I'm not against teaming up with someone the next time Talon rears their ugly heads.

[ On her toes is not quite enough to ease the worry apparent in Angela's face; not even close. It just takes one misstep, one too slow instant. She would have been retrieving a corpse, instead of a patient.

She sighs and gives his hand a squeeze. ]

Call me sooner, next time. It has been some time since Overwatch disbanded, but I'm sure I haven't forgotten everything.

[ She hates the though of action and violence, but even more she hates the thought of anything happening to him. ]

[ Dick's hands aren't in enough pain that he doesn't squeeze back. At her sigh, he attempts to give a reassuring smile. ]

I know you'd be excellent support, Angela.

I mean-- Doctor.

[ He chuckles to himself at that. ]

In case you find me dead the next time we meet, I think you deserve to know.

My secret identity, that is.

[ Leslie Thompkins is another doctor familiar with the Bat Family and their secret identities... it might be time for Dick to build that same bridge with Angela. She's been his lifeline countless times, never asking for more than his eventual recovery. Dick owes her profoundly.

So maybe... the least he can do is start with his name. ]

I go by Dick Grayson. You might know me as the heir to Bruce Wayne's fortune.

[ Her eyebrows hike up at mention of that, secret identity. She's always been aware of the secrecy, of the reasons for it, and willing to indulge in it even if it seemed a bit silly — but she never expected to simply drop the pretext.

She studies his face in a suddenly new light, brow knit. Has she seen him before, in a civilian context? Maybe. She at least knows the name Bruce Wayne, even if he's never been in any circles she's paid much attention to, perhaps she's skimmed some news article mentioning his heir. Looks like it's time to start paying a little more attention. ]

Well. It is nice to meet you, Dick. [ A bit of a superfluous statement, more to gather her thoughts than anything else. ] Although I like to think you can handle yourself well enough not to make that scenario very likely, or have I misjudged you all this time?

[ She hasn't, she knows that. She's just still surprised to have his identity out and between them. ]

Nice to meet you too, Angela. Formally, that is.

[ He'd love to shake her hand as if this were some sort of professional exchange, but his body was still bedridden. He just has to keep reminding himself of that fact. ]

I deal so thoroughly in subterfuge that I really can't give you an honest answer.

[ A beat. ]

Only kidding! I mean, I literally just told you my real name.

[ He shoots her a smirk. ]

I hope you appreciate the vote of confidence, Frau Doktor.

[ It's a good thing about that only kidding, because Angela doesn't look particularly amused. She's in the business of keeping people alive, thanks, and not very interested in enabling otherwise.

It is quite the vote of confidence though, and she grows a little more serious as she leans forward with a warm smile. ]

I do. [ Her hand on his, nearly forgotten, gives his a quick and reassuring rub before she finally pulls both hands back into her lap. ] Your secret will be safe with me, of course. Just make sure you keep your end of the deal — you call me whenever you need backup.

[ She really isn't thrilled about her offer, she's never enjoyed the battlefield. But she knows Nightwing — Dick — well enough by now to know that he does good work, and she trusts he isn't unnecessarily violent. What he does do, must be done.

She stands finally, smoothing out her labcoat with a few absent brushes. ]

But not just yet. I'm not giving you clearance to leave for a week, and I'll listen to no arguments for an early release.

Wouldn't dream of it, m'am!

[ Once Mercy made her way out, Dick activated his phone via voice command. He had asked her to move it to the side table for ease of use.

The TV was left on and turned to a channel that showcased some cold case exposés. Until Dick feels better, he won't waste his time just recuperating.

Like any good protege of the World's Greatest Detective, Dick carries out his endless crusade by calling the cold case hotline and giving them tips on how to solve these unsolved mysteries. ]

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