"What are you two doing?" Nightwing demanded shrilly when he walked into the monitor room to find Roy and Helena, both sans shirts. Helena, at least, had her bra on.
It wouldn't have been an altogether unusual occurrence to walk in on – if the two archers, were, say, in the gym. Or even the locker rooms. On the archery range, even…
But the monitor room? What, had Roy gotten tired of both Grace and the Pequod?
"Comparing scars," Helena replied with a wry twist of her lips.
"Yeah, y'know, seein' as how we both got shot five times in the chest," Roy added.
Helena snorted. "You got shot in the chest, hothead. I got shot in the abdomen." She patted her scarred belly for emphasis.
Leering at her cleaving, Roy said, "Good thing, too; there's a shortage of perfect breasts in the world and it'd be a shame to damage yours."
Helena just stared at Roy, a disbelieving cast to her sharp features. "You ripped that off The Princess Bride, didn't you?"
Roy winced, then put on a fake grin and shrugged. "What? I have a kid." He pointed a finger at her with his trademark perfect aim. "What's your excuse for knowing that line?"
Helena wavered for a moment, then said, "I'm an elementary school teacher."
Roy's eyebrows climbed into his hairline. "Reee-aally now? Hey, Lian's gonna start kindergarten soon; what do you think about the Montessori schools?"
Eye lighting up with cautious interest, Helena said, "Well, I…"
Dick rolled his eyes and left the two of them conversing on various things parents should and should not teach their kids. Despite not wanting to get to know his new team, somehow the whole HQ seemed like the Clocktower after a hard mission: full of bitching family.
It was kind of nice. But if Roy and Grace didn't stop having sex in the Pequod, he was going to do something drastic. The shock absorbers in their ship weren't really made for Grace's meta strength to be used like that.