And the Award for Most Awkward Conversation Ever Goes To. . .

November 23, 2014: Damian and Kate catchup. It starts normal.

Titans Castle

They live in a lair.



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Mood Music:

Kate's been busy lately. Not that she isn't usually. But this time, she had a trip planned to take Vorpal out to LA for some sort of…it involved shopping, apparently. That's usually enough to convince other people there's nothing they need to know about it. The trip is over, though, and Kate is back in town. So the Titans base, of course, is one of the first places she stops in. "Knock, knock!" she calls at the entrance.

The door opens unceremoniously and Kate finds herself still alone. Not far away, Damian is seated at one of the computers and tapping away at the keyboards. He's knee deep in something or other, as per usual, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain black, tight fitting t-shirt. Dark eyes flicker back and forth at the information at the jumbo screens.

"This is the problem with castles, you know," Kate calls ahead of herself as she moves further inside, searching out residents. "Unless you hire a butler. That's what they're for. The hospitality thing. They can't really do much about the drafts." Eventually, she finds her way to the computer room, sticking her head in. "Hey, there you are," she grins, moving the rest of the way inside and rolling a chair over next to Damian. "How's it going?"

"I have a blanket that I purchased recently. I could loan it to you for the duration of your stay, if you wish. It is clean," Damian's eyes finally tear away from what he's looking at and he smiles towards Kate. "Things are well. How are you?"

"I feel like I should be concerned that you felt the need to clarify that it's clean," Kate chuckles, turning the chair around and straddling it to cross her arms over the back, watching his screen. "I'm not bad. Twisted my knee a bit, but it's getting better. Anything interesting going on here?"

Damian shrugs his shoulders, "I've been living hostel to hostel; I could see why it could be a concern. Also, I'm an 18 year old male." Damian's eyebrows come together in confusion. "You hurt your knee shopping?" He leaves her question go for now.

"No, that was before the shopping trip," Kate clarifies. "Chasing down some weirdo who kept making his own sound effects with Harper and the Arrow. Sort of skidded my bike." She rests her chin on her arms, glancing over at him with a quirk of her brow. "Why aren't you staying here? Where you have a room?"

"Oh," Damian says absently. "I'm glad you're okay. If you need any help while it heals, please know you can count on me." Damian shrugs his shoulders. "I've not seen much of the world. This castle is a long way from the city and I can only rarely get here because of my lack of money and being without a vehicle. Therefore I like to spend time in the city and I like to be close to you."

"The bike's ready," Kate points out. "And it's at my place, where you're also welcome to crash." She reaches out with one foot, nudging at the base of his chair. "What're you looking up in here, anyhow?" she asks.

Damian swallows a bit as she mentions staying at her place, "I'm not sure you'd like me as a roommate. My training regimen necessitates me to eat large quantities of food. Additionally, I meditate in the nude." He looks back up towards the screen. "New case. Murders down on the lower east side. Killer writes song lyrics in their blood. He has terrible taste in music."

Kate coughs back a laugh at his objection, smirking. "Yeah, I've got nothing to say to that," she admits, shaking her head and looking back to the information on the screen. "He's got terrible taste in hobbies, too, if he goes around writing song lyrics in blood on the walls."

Damian nods, "So that's all that's really been going on with me. Spoiler was interested in joining the Titans, but Vorpal and his need to control every bit of everyone's life chased her off. You'd think someone who was so desirous of leadership would be better at it. He'll learn, I suppose, but running off quality people is a zero sum game."

"That's a pity. She seemed pretty cool." Kate watches the information scrolling over the screen. "On the other hand, I'm guessing it would've been pretty super awkward with captain awesome on the team. He's still on the team, right? Or did he decide to go the way of the bat?"

"Yeah. I think she likes me. Like, maybe she likes me likes me. I don't know. It's weird." Damian shrugs, and sits back in his seat. "Everything is always awkward with the Facsimile. I'm not sure what he's up to: perhaps wallowing in self loathing, rubbing peanut butter over his privates, and sucking on the Oracle's teet."

Damian al Ghul shrugs, "I dunno."

Kate gives Damian a long look at that exposition. "You said words, and every one of those words has a meaning, but they really don't belong together in a way that makes sense, so we're just going to pretend all I heard was the last part about not being sure." And that's how she's going to make it.

Damian gives her a look. "What; he's a weird dude. He makes out with the sidekick of his biggest adversary. I can't explain his actions. "

"Don't be a jerk, Damian," Kate chides. "You're better than that. I got an interesting offer from Clint," she notes, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Apparently SHIELD is building some sort of…superhero team. Superman, Wonder Woman, Captain America. Clint, too."

"You're taking his side now? I've never seen one liar and cheat receive more favor from people than him. It must be the yellow." Damian seems perturbed, but goes on to the other topic, "That sounds interesting. A lot of big names."

"I'm not taking his side, I'm just saying you don't have to be a jerk about him," Kate clarifies. "I think the Arrow is a name-calling jerk, but you don't see me going out of my way to call him names back, do you? There's actually a middle ground in life between not liking someone, and actively going out of your way to hurt them or malign them. It's part of why people don't get so warm and fuzzy with you, you know," she points out. "A lot of people figure if you say things like that about someone else when they're not around, then what might you be saying about them?"

Damian chuckles, "Well those people should be more secure. I say things like that both to his and Vorpal's face. I'm not afraid and don't pull punches, whether they are here or they are not here. Whether people get fuzzy around me or not is not my concern."

"Dude, you have got issues with him that go way past what he does or doesn't do with his girlfriends," Kate snorts. "And you get that for free, because you're the one who doesn't want to be pulling punches. But we both know it's not just about him. Anyhow. Clint wants me to join this team with him," she says, grimacing faintly. "And…it'd be a huge honor and all. But like you said, those are big names. I'm not sure just what I bring to that group."

"We all have issues, Kate. Yourself included. I think you're telling me this because you care. I've heard you comments, given them thought. They've been duly noted. But when it comes to him I will trust my own judgement. Thank you." Damian tilts his head, shifting mood, "If you've been asked that means that Clint thinks you are able. I happen to agree."

Kate watches him for a moment, considering that response, before a faint smile quirks. "All right, points for progress," she grants, reaching over to set a hand to his shoulder. "Anyhow. It's kind of a big commitment. You know? Not just casual hero-stuff. Publicity. Major threats. It's…I don't know."

"I'm not broken, Kate," Damian says his eyes going back to the screen. "I don't need fixing, even if I appreciate the thought behind the effort." He pays the hand no mind. "It's something you'd be good at, Kate. You have a way with people; a way of cutting through the minutiae of what is likely the modus operandi of that group. I think it'd be good for them. And maybe good for you."

"You're not broken," Kate agrees. "People don't really get broken. Not entirely. We get hurt. We get twisted. We get busted up. But we get better, too." She's quiet for a moment, bringing her hand back to cross her arms over the back of the chair again. "You ever have anyone who really cared about you, Damian?" she asks quietly.

Damian shakes his head, "I'm going to go ahead and assume that I cannot count myself." He grins. "No. I haven't. And I'm not sure what I would do if I did. It's not really part of how I was raised. Everyone is a product of their upbringings, after all."

"Yeah," Kate murmurs. "I've known plenty of people like that. It kind of gets around in the rich kid circle. Lots of folks who think of their kids as trophies, or proof of their own success. My dad's pretty much like that. My success, my sister's success, are about how they make him look. It sucks. I was lucky, though," she adds. "My mom wasn't like that. My mom knew what mattered was people, and how you treated them. My mom…she's why I am who I am."

"My grandfather raised me to slaughter all those who stood before me. My name, Damian, means to conquer. I do not get fuzzy with people, as you say, because I'm incapable of it. And frankly, I'm not sure it's a bad thing for me. I'm glad you had your mother in your life. She sounds like a fine woman. I'm sure she had a great deal of wisdom in how she raised you," Damian replies.

"She was pretty great," Kate says quietly, then shakes her head. "Anyhow. I don't hang around with you because you're broken or you need to be fixed. I do it because first, you're fun," she flashes a brief smile. "And second, you need it. And, you know. Third, and somewhere back there, I'm sure my therapist would say it's daddy issues and I'm obsessed with emotionally unavailable people, but talk about issues no one wants to touch with a twenty-foot pole."

"You're a good friend, Kate. And I appreciate that," Damian closes out the computer screen and leans back in his chair. He slides his fingers through his long hair trying to decide what he should do. That's the weird thing about living out on your own. You've got so much more time than you're used to. Quitting Wayne Manor and quitting school—he didn't really factor in having as much free time as he does.

"Anyhow. No more serious talk and pre-programmed responses," Kate waves a hand, leaning back and giving her chair a spin. "I'm probably going to have to be all sorts of serious if I do this thing with Clint. And spend actual time training or something. And try not to scare off the real big heroes or something."

"You believe my answers are pre-programmed?" Damian says with a raised eyebrow. "I think you'll rise to the occasion. If you need help with training I know that you have Clint to assist you, but if you ever need or want extra help, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Maybe that's not the word," Kate shrugs. "Sometimes, though, it feels like you know what you're supposed to say, so that people don't think you're a murderous psychopath, and you're just…saying what you think we want to hear. Because you're smart. And whatever happens, I'm pretty sure you're the only one I know who can keep up with blade practice with me, right?"

Damian nearly bursts into laughter, "And that's what I am, right? A murderous psychopath. Either you have me spot on or you have me entirely wrong, Just Kate. Clearly you won't believe what I say because it will be just what you want to hear, so you'll have to stay in your limbo." Damian nods, "I'll help you with whatever you ask."

"Nope," Kate says lightly. "I'm taking you at your word until you murder me in my sleep, so at least make it look good." She winks, giving her chair another lazy spin. "We still need to go on that quest. Maybe that's what I should do. Call up Fenris, we'll go on a quest. Quests are supposed to help you make important decisions, right?"

"I don't think I could ever murder you, Kate. You'd be the last person on the planet. So you're pretty safe. I didn't even murder anyone after my airplane exploded. I had half a mind to murder Midnighter," Damian says offhandedly. "Not sure about a quest. I've never really been on one."

"Wait wait wait." Kate stops spinning, holding up a hand. "I asked how you were doing, and you didn't lead with 'my airplane exploded'? Damian! Priority stories, here!"

Damian shrugs, "I forgot that you didn't know. Are you hungry? I'm going to grab some fruit." He stands out of the chair and moves over towards the back of the headquarter room to the kitchenette.

"Where are you going?!" Kate protests, though there's a note of laughter beneath the question. "Seriously, this is a story you have to share. Was this the Egypt thing? The one with Waller, where you were supposed to die? Did you die and come back to life and not tell me about it, because that is so against the…the friend code. Entirely!"

"I didn't know there was a code." Damian pours himself some sparkling water and begins to build himself a tray of grapes, strawberries, orange slices, and bananas. "You recall Midnighter and his slightly creepy fascination with me. It was his idea to go upon this trip to Egypt. Against my better judgement I agreed after watching an attack by some strange beings. In any event, they promised that if I joined him, I would surely die. The plane exploded after one of their followers brought a device aboard. Booster Gold, who, I believe was a member of the Justice Leaguethe group that your new friends will frequentsaved the plane. I came face to face with my tormenter, a woman of unspeakable power and unspeakable poor looks. In any event, I survived only to have her assure me the next time would be for good. I haven't talked to Midnighter since, and I don't plan to. I get the feeling he would like to try and fondle me if I was preoccupied."

"Uh, gross." Kate leans against the counter, reaching out to snipe a grape. "Not that you're gross, more that I'm unilaterally opposed to unwelcome fondling. Who's the tormentor of unspeakable power? And why did she want to kill you?"

"I'm not sure on either account. I think it's because I got in the middle of her plans. I don't really understand it, but I think this person has me outmatched and in a one on one battle, I'm pretty sure she'll be successful. That reminds me," Damian says reaching a finger up as if a thought just came back to him. "Do you know how much call girls cost?"

"Good thing you don't fight alone, then," Kate wrinkles her nose, though his last question gives her a moment of pause. "I'm not sure if I'm more concerned that you're asking that question, or that I actually have a pretty good idea of the answer," she sighs. "What do you need a call girl for?"

"Well, in all of my battles I've always gone in with a pretty good idea that I'd be victorious," Damian explains. "This time around I'm not as certain, and I've been giving death some thought lately. For centuries warriors have had a short shelflife and I figure that my life will be no different. I realized that in my time I've never had a sexual experience. With someone else, I mean. And I think that's something I need to do before I die. If you have contacts given your position in society—contacts I could take advantage of, I'd appreciate it."

"Damian, that's…" Kate takes a deep breath, scrubbing a hand over her face. "Okay, so, this is me trying to be rational and not emotional about this. Call girls are so not the answer, okay? I'm sure they're great at what they do. I've seen some who were totally charming. But buying and selling sex isn't…that's not how it's supposed to be. Sex isn't business. It's the most intimate thing you can do with someone. And you can't get intimacy out of a paid encounter."

"Kate," Damian says with a shake of his head. "I imagine the experience will be far differen for me than for someone who had a more normal upbringing such as yourself. I'm not even sure I'm capable of intimacy. But, it's something I'd like to experience before I die. So if you'd put me in touch with an escort service; if your able that is, I'd be thankful."

"Or, I can take you out to a club, point you at a girl, and you can have an actual, normal, teenage experience," Kate points out. "Where it can be totally awkward, but no one is paying for anything, and everyone is mostly there because they want to be."

"Kate, you and I both know that there's no realistic way that I will be able to bring a woman in on my own accord. Why are you making this so difficult? It's your morals that are telling you that this experience should be different than it is. If you won't help me, I understand, I can go somewhere else," Damian says, munching on some cheese.

"That's what you think," Kate snorts softly. "Damian, you're not exactly hard on the eyes, you know. And you're new. And interesting. And exotic. And you've got the dangerous, brooding thing down. Believe me, I take you into the right club, and you'll be lucky if you can walk out without getting laid. Trust me. Give it a chance. If it doesn't work, it's not like there are suddenly not going to be any more call girls in New York City."

"Your words are very kind, Kate, but I really don't want to open myself up to those sorts of feelings and et cetera. You've made your point; I will ask someone else who might have knowledge of such things. I won't ask you to help." Damian settles back into his seat. "I also think I might take a trip back to the Middle East so I might see it one more time. Just in case."

"The feelings are kind of the point," Kate points out, reaching over to pick up a piece of cheese. "And if you're making up your bucket list of things you want to experience before your inevitable, horrible death, feelings should be on it anyhow." Okay, maybe there was a little bit of something else in that last bit.

"No, they're the point for people like you, Kate. Not for me. It's what I want, and I'm going to get it." Damian laughs, "It's my bucket list, I get to make it. I'm not sure acquiring feelings is on it. I sound like Mr. Scrooge. Of course, Mr. Scrooge was just a story."

Kate rolls her eyes, standing up. "Fine," she says flatly. "Do what you want. The bike's back at my place in the city. I'll leave the keys on the counter if you stop by when I'm not around."

"I don't understand why you're angry. I thought you'd understand." Damian seems confused, his dark eyes looking up at her.

"Yeah, well, me neither," Kate snaps. "I can't decide if it's more insulting that you're asking me to find you a call girl, that you think it's acceptable to trade money for sex, or that you think sex shouldn't involve any emotion. I completely understand being afraid of dying, and not wanting to miss out on life. That I understand. But the rest of it? No."

"I didn't mean to offend you. I asked because I thought you might know. I heard the wealthy in this country sometimes frequent those, and while I didn't expect you to, I figured you would have friends. I'm sorry," Damian says.

"Just because it's something rich people do doesn't make it okay, Damian," Kate shakes her head, grimacing. "And I'm mot- The asking me is not the most important part of this problem, anyhow. Look, it doesn't- You don't- Ugh." She pushes a hand through her hair, turning away for a moment. "There are so many layers of what's wrong with this conversation. Do you have any idea how many women are in that business because they've been forced into it? Because they didn't know any better, then got in too deep to see a way out? And even if they're totally in charge of whatever they're doing, it's dangerous. Because most men who hire call girls? Not super into respecting them."

"I never thought about it that way." Damian sighs. "I didn't mean to offend you. Perhaps I could convince Spoiler. I don't think she'd agree, but perhaps she will do me the favor. Other than that, I guess I may have to go without."

"Oh my god, Damian, please don't," Kate groans, scrubbing a hand over her face. "You cannot ask the ex-girlfriend of your nemesis to have sex with you. No. Even if you were truly, madly, deeply in love with her, that would be wrong. Because she would still, always, have to wonder if you did it because you liked her, or because you wanted to hurt him. And even if she was cool with that, and wanted to do that? Also not a thing that's okay. You don't sleep with someone to hurt someone else. So no, do not ask Spoiler if she will sleep with you, okay? Jesus."

Damian kind of slumps in his chair, realizing he's going to die a virgin. "Okay. That makes sense. I guess it doesn't count that I wouldn't be doing it out of spite."

"I have found someone who is worse at being a boyfriend than Clint," Kate mutters to herself, dragging a chair back toward the table. "Look, Damian. I get it. You're a teenager, you can't think of much worse than dying without ever having sex. But this is so not the way to do it. What's wrong with trying to do it the normal way?"

"I'm not equipped for that sort of thing. One of the things that my grandfather taught me, one of the only 'good' things, was not to pretend to be something you're not. To have a good self realization. I know this about myself, and pretending to be different will not work out well," Damian responds.

"I'm not telling you to pretend anything," Kate snorts. "The way you are is just right for the club scene, trust me. People pay good money to go to seminars so that people can teach them how to be like you in a club, for the sole purpose of convincing women to sleep with them. I'm not saying it's awesome, but you're not as ill-equipped as you think you are."

"I'm ill equipped for feelings; and you've noted that this is apparently everything that this is about," Damian counters.

"There are a whole lot of types of feelings," Kate grimaces, propping her chin up on one hand. "Not the least of which is wanting to have fun. To enjoy it. And I know you're entirely capable of having fun and enjoying yourself. Come on, don't you trust me? Do you think I'd ask you to try something if I thought you couldn't handle it?"

"I don't want to embarass myself through failure," Damian replies.

"And there's the root of the problem." Kate presses a fist to her brow, letting out a slow breath. "Look, failure is…part of growing. It happens. Nobody likes it, because it sucks. But it happens. But you know what the most important thing Clint ever taught me was?" She looks back up, gaze steady. "You miss every shot you don't take."

"Fine. I don't think it will work, but if it's the only way for me to experience this before I die, it's worth a shot. I think this entire conversation has shown me how happy I am to be free of the handcuffs of feelings. My life is very simple," Damian says.

"Oh, like hell you're free of the handcuffs of feelings," Kate snorts, reaching out to shove at his shoulder. "You're scared of failure, and you're scared of feeling embarrassed, so there's two sucky feelings you've got all to yourself. And you're frequently proud of yourself, so there's another. You're pissed at middle Robin. You're disappointed in Vorpal for chasing Spoiler off with rules about what she can and can't feel. It seems to me like you've got plenty of feelings. They're just all the sucky ones."

Damian exhales and shakes his head, "Clearly you're upset because I trivialized sex, and because it's an issue you don't like dealing with. I should have thought about the story you told me before I asked you. That was my fault. This conversation is growing old and I'm sorry we had it."

"And clearly you don't like the idea that you're not actually in control of all your feelings," Kate retorts, standing up again. "So you're just going to call the conversation over, because that's what you do when you don't like how something's going. You leave. Because God forbid you might not be in control." Said the pot to the kettle. "Whatever. I'm going to go and…I don't know. Maybe I'll go visit SHIELD or something. Like I said, the bike's ready when you want it."

"I don't understand why we are fighting," Damian says, ignoring her plans to leave. "You've never been pissed off with me before today. I'm not sure what nerve I touched, but I'm sorry that I did. I don't want to fight you. You're pretty much all I have."

"We're fighting because-" Kate stops by the door, sighing heavily. "Because I do have feelings, and it's a sensitive topic, yeah. And…" She stalls, rubbing a hand at her brow. "God, I hate therapy," she mutters. "Look, I'm not perfect. So maybe even though I know you're probably trying to be respectful by not asking me, it still kind of stings, okay? There, I said it. Happy?"

Damian laughs, "Kate, I could never ask you. You're my closest person in the world. If I love anyone at all, you know that I love you. To have you reject me because I am not good enough for you would kill me. That was never an option."

"That's dumb," Kate sighs, shoulders slumping. "But so am I, so I guess we're even." She goes to the fridge, a concession to not leaving, though she doesn't take anything out just yet. "Anyhow. You're not going to die, Damian, okay? I don't let people kill my friends."

"Kate, this person…I don't think they're going to give two shits about what a couple of mortals think about their plans. In fact, when I meet her, I won't let you go with me."

"So you think she's not a mortal?" Kate asks, arching a brow. "Because I know a few people who fall under that category, too. Like, you know. The God-Wolf who offered to take us on a quest." She stares into the fridge a moment longer, then goes to start coffee instead. "I bet I can get something to crimp her style."

"Really." Damian ponders it a moment. He doesn't bother to add that he still doesn't want her anywhere close to this bitch. Kate's friend though? Well, this is interesting. "Tell me more."

"Fenris," Kate clarifies, leaning against the edge of the counter as the coffee machine starts to burble. "Apparently, he's supposed to bring about the end of the world, but he's not really cool with that destiny, so he's trying to be something else. I thought the two of you might have some things in common."

"Does he like to go….How do you say…."Clubbing?" Maybe we could invite him when I try to get some loving," Damian says, not really putting any oomph into the words. Which clealry require it to refrain from making them sound ridiculous.

Kate blinks a couple times, letting that suggestion sink in. "I'm torn on that one, but there's a huge part of me that wants to see the two of you at a club, if only to see what it actually looks like," she admits, shaking her head. "I'm not sure he's super up on modern courting techniques either, though."

"Perhaps not. But he may be able to give me advice on the physicality and strategy to ensure that I am in fact a good lover for whomever I trick into my bed. Which is, of course, doubly hilarious given that I do not own a bed. I wonder the Hostel's policies on such a thing."

"Probably not super understanding," Kate drawls, dry. "But if you're trying to bring a girl home, taking her back to your actual castle is usually a pretty good move. On the other hand, she might not take the blindfolding to keep the location secret thing well, so that's a wrinkle in the plan."

"I don't think the others would understand if I brought a woman home because I thought I might die," Damian says, imagining Vorpal's response. "Perhaps I'll get an extravagant hotel."

"Or, depending on the girl, you can go back to her place," Kate suggests as the coffee starts to drip into the pot. "Which gives you a perfect excuse to leave afterwards without having to navigate the dangerous waters of 'so now that we got our rocks off, you can leave my place.'"

Damian chuckles, "I wouldn't do that to her. For a woman willing to give me what could be my final gift, I would treat her right." Damian takes the tray over to the kitchenette. He faces the wall, but Kate is still close enough to hear him as he talks quietly. "You'd have said no, wouldn't you?"

"Damian, stop talking like you're going to die any minute," Kate rolls her eyes. "You're not. You just survived a plane crash, I think that means your odds are good." The question is met with silence for a long moment, a faint line furrowing between her brows. "I don't know," she admits. "You didn't ask."

"I thank you for saving me the torture of your denial, and thank you for caring enough not to hurt me right now. Even though I'm sure you want to. This is why you're my best friend," Damian says with a smile. He makes his way back towards the seat, "So when are we going out? I think I will need help with what I will wear."

Kate pours herself a mug of coffee, giving Damian a dry look. "If I want to hurt you, I'll just punch you in the face," she declares, taking a sip. "And of course you need help with what you'll wear. The hair works, though," she adds with a vague gesture toward his head.

"I thought you hated the hair," Damian says. He shrugs his shoulders, "The cheaper the better. You still haven't answered when we're going. I need it to be soon. She could show up at any point."

"Who, the girl of your dreams?" Kate arches a brow, amused. "I'm pretty sure she'll wait for you. And clubs don't get going until late, so you've at least got to wait until tonight," she adds, glancing at her watch. "Friday would probably be better, but if you're in such a hurry…"

"Not the girl of my dreams, Kate. That's you. The girl of my means to an immediate end. Don't worry, I will be upfront about my intentions with whoever she is, if she becomes anyone at all." Damian raises an eyebrow, "What's wrong with being in a hurry? I'm decisive. That's a benefit, I believe."

"You're something, all right," Kate says with a rueful smile, shaking her head as she pushes away from the counter. "All right, we'll go shopping. When it comes to it all, you know, going through? I'm not going to need to hear the details, okay?"

Damian nods, "I understand. I have heard women do not like the lewdness of the act. That they would prefer it to be more cleanly than it actually is. I don't imagine I will tell anyone. I just hope I do it well."

Kate quirks a brow. "No," she says slowly. "I just don't really want to hear about you and someone else. I can be adult enough to say that if I'm not comfortable doing it, that shouldn't keep you from doing it, but that doesn't mean I want to know all the details."

"Well, I was hoping to ask you for advice. I mean, you're a woman. But I'll respect your wishes. I can see what that might be like. I don't have any brothers or sisters, but I can imagine how it would be like hearing about your brother. I don't want to make you even angrier," Damian says.

Kate just sort of eyes Damian for a long moment. "How about I just take you to the library for the next few hours and you can flip through last years' Cosmo and Glamour magazines?"

Damian nods, "That's not a terrible idea."

"Awesome. Suit up," Kate says with a long-suffering sigh, draining the last of the coffee and putting the mug into the sink. "I'll drop you at the library and go find you something club appropriate."

Damian reaches to a hanger and grabs his black hoodie, "I've heard that people like kissing. I'm not sure I can do that. I wonder who the first person who ever tried that was. And what the reaction was."

Kate is so not having this conversation. Not even a little bit. She's headed for the car. Lord help the New York Librarians…

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