38.2 Enthusiasm
“What are you enthusiastic about these days, Cassandra?”
She blinks at the woman. Oh there are so many ways to answer that, if only she could get the words out. Not that she's really inclined, not after her rather disastrous experiments with the nail polish. And apparently nail polish remover isn't a good thing to use on hardwood floors.
And she's not sharing that one. Or her nocturnal activities. Roy Harper vouched for this therapist, that's why she agreed to this. Cass also ran her own background checks, the ones that make what the CIA can do look like kid stuff. She does check out; even has some impressive references. Still, Cass doesn't want to share that part of her life. It would be like giving away a part of herself.
This is of course in opposition to what she's supposed to be accomplishing here.
Trust. That's a hard one, and something she doesn't give easily. With good reason. Many good reasons.
The woman is looking at her, waiting. Blast it. She has to say something.
“Coffee.” She blinks. Where had that come from?
The therapist also blinks, also startled. “You are enthusiastic about 'coffee'?” The scepticism is thick in her cultured tones. “Tell me why?”
Despite herself, Cass smiles. She feels warm inside as her mind seizes on the idea. It's a little strange to realize that she actually does look forward to coffee, and not just for the caffeine rush. The Asian girl nods. “See friends. Talk. Listen. Laugh. Is good.” Another nod, firmer, resolute as she finds herself meaning the halting words.
More then that, she can see her friends in her minds eye. Barbara's quirky smile and warm laugh. The way Tim is quiet but every line of his body tells how good it is. Dick, who still seems a little..disconcerted around her, but he's trying to be her friend and she's very pleased with that situation. Alfred. Well it's never coffee with Alfred. The old butler is still trying to refine her palate, testing out various teas on her and she's certainly not going to complain about that, not when it makes him so very happy. Jason. She wishes they talked more, or that he talked. Or didn't talk but would let her come closer. Cass likes him, a lot. She understands him, what it means to be used. It feels like she should be doing more on that front but she doesn't know what.
She doesn't really have coffee with the Bat, but that's probably just as well, it wouldn't be him anyhow. He'd probably have his playboy persona going, which is both amusing and annoying. The last time he did that, she was tempted to mention a nice young man she'd met, just to shock him out of the inane Brucie guise.
“So it's your chance to be with people you like? To socialize?”
The therapists words pull her back into her body. Hmm. That's...interesting. She'll have to think more on it later. Again she nods. “Friends,” she agrees. “Family.” Oops, she hasn't meant to say that one.
“Family?” the woman starts flipping through her file. “I thought your father was still incarcerated.”
Cass scowls, its a dark mask over her pretty features. “He. Not. Family.” While her voice is quiet, the venom is obvious. Before the idiot can ask, Cass is on her feet and stalking out of the room. This is something else she has no intention of talking about.
There is something very satisfying-but decidedly unbatlike-about slamming the door as she leaves.