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Dec. 26th, 2010 11:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The crew Roy ran with hadn't been born privileged, but then again neither had he. But Roy'd had privilege for a while, at least until Ollie'd caught him abusing that privilege by shooting up. Then it'd been out on the streets again for Roy and if it hadn't been for Ollie's bleeding heart friends Roy might have died out there, craving a hit. Still, Hal and Dinah had helped get him over the addiction (as over an addiction as you could get with a few days of going cold turkey) and then they'd let him go off to make his own way in the world.
He could have gone villain, easily, being Starling had taught Roy the ins and outs of the villainous underground, just like being Starling had earned him a certain rep among that underground, and it had given him a rather loose set of morals.
But loose as they were they were still morals.
So Roy went the other way. He went government.
"What're you doing in my city, Harper?" Roy'd heard a lot of description of Dick Grayson's voice. Some people called it silky, some people called it sexy; almost everyone said he could purr like a cat. That was usually the point Roy stifled a chuckle and pondered introducing the women (or men) talking to his half-brother. Still, Roy could admit, to himself, that Dick definitely did have a tendency to purr.
Experience dealing with Connor helped Roy remember the claws.
"Hey, babe." Roy lounged on the larger than king sized bed he was cuffed to. He wasn't sure why he ever went through the hassle of requesting a single bed when he entered Dick's city. Probably because the one night he didn't bother with booking himself into a cheap, agency recommended hotel, Dick wouldn't bother showing up. "You do realize there are about fifteen ways I can connect you with the girl in the bar who slipped me the mickey and the two goons who chained me to the bed?"
Dick waved a hand in the air. He was seated in an armchair across from Roy dressed in silk pajamas. They were blue, but so blue they were almost black, which was pretty much par for the course with Dick Grayson, master criminal. If there was an area of crime untouched by Dick's fingers it was because it was too petty for him to bother, or too dirty for his direct involvement. The agency had been keeping a watch on Dick for years, ever since he'd been mentored by Bruce Wayne. After all, when *the* head honcho of the Coalition of Assassins took a personal interest in someone, you better watch someone. And so far the agency's suspicions had proved right.
Even if they couldn't actually legally arrest Dick, they were still right. They couldn't arrest Tim either, although they did have quite the dossier on Jason. And the latest one… they were all pretty sure the little mite had at least five kills on his hand, but then rumors said he was actually Wayne's son too.
"And you do understand that I prefer plausible deniability to having my face plastered close to yours in the tabloids?" Dick moved from the chair to the bed and drew his fingers over Roy's wrists. There were slack to the cuffs, just enough that if Roy really wanted to he would have been able to find a way to get out of them. Not that Roy wanted to; in fact he had settled further into the plush bed and smirked. "And you didn't answer my question."
"That'd be a scandal, wouldn't it? Dick Grayson in bed with the feds." Roy smirked at Dick. "And you should know, I'm here on federal business, I'm sure your brutes got through ransacking my room ages ago."
Dick rolled his eyes, and then straddled Roy's hips. "Not the point, Harper, and I'm sure you know it." From the peevishness to Dick's voice and the way he lost some of that ice cold veneer Roy could tell that Dick had found the files explaining Roy's mission and knew that there was more to it.
"I'm here to make you an offer."
One of Dick's eyebrows went up and Roy loved the way his statement kindled a look of surprise and interest. "An offer?"
"Yup." Roy stretched, his body moving underneath Dick. Dick made a soft noise, almost a hum, of approval. "The agency wants in."
"In?" And the chill was back. "I'm afr-"
"Oh, stuff it tight pants." Roy grinned affectionately at the criminal mastermind. Dick looked slightly chagrined, a façade if Roy had ever seen one. Still, Dick wasn't threatening him or shooting him (both of which he'd done at one point or the other) so Roy was going to count it as a win. "They want in, and I'm here to negotiate."
"What are they offering?" Dick ground down against Roy's hips and Roy fought the instinct to buck back. It'd be so easy to just give in and go straight for the sex at this point, but he didn't want to forget anything and he knew once the sex was done he'd be dumped right back in his cheesy hotel. Or kept chained up for round two, that had happened now and again.
"Me."
Dick's laugh was warm, charming, and utterly false. "If I wanted you, Red, I would have had you already."
This statement was true enough, probably, although Roy knew that the agency he worked for wouldn't have let him go without a fight.
"Not just me." Roy rolled his hips up against Dick's and dropped his voice an octave. "I've heard there's a certain office you've been considering. Wouldn't you like me to call you Mister President?"
The surprised, delighted, and conniving look that spread across Dick's face made the fact that Roy was breaking a dozen laws absolutely worth it. (Also the near indentured slavery, and the fact that Ollie was *not* going to approve.)
He could have gone villain, easily, being Starling had taught Roy the ins and outs of the villainous underground, just like being Starling had earned him a certain rep among that underground, and it had given him a rather loose set of morals.
But loose as they were they were still morals.
So Roy went the other way. He went government.
"What're you doing in my city, Harper?" Roy'd heard a lot of description of Dick Grayson's voice. Some people called it silky, some people called it sexy; almost everyone said he could purr like a cat. That was usually the point Roy stifled a chuckle and pondered introducing the women (or men) talking to his half-brother. Still, Roy could admit, to himself, that Dick definitely did have a tendency to purr.
Experience dealing with Connor helped Roy remember the claws.
"Hey, babe." Roy lounged on the larger than king sized bed he was cuffed to. He wasn't sure why he ever went through the hassle of requesting a single bed when he entered Dick's city. Probably because the one night he didn't bother with booking himself into a cheap, agency recommended hotel, Dick wouldn't bother showing up. "You do realize there are about fifteen ways I can connect you with the girl in the bar who slipped me the mickey and the two goons who chained me to the bed?"
Dick waved a hand in the air. He was seated in an armchair across from Roy dressed in silk pajamas. They were blue, but so blue they were almost black, which was pretty much par for the course with Dick Grayson, master criminal. If there was an area of crime untouched by Dick's fingers it was because it was too petty for him to bother, or too dirty for his direct involvement. The agency had been keeping a watch on Dick for years, ever since he'd been mentored by Bruce Wayne. After all, when *the* head honcho of the Coalition of Assassins took a personal interest in someone, you better watch someone. And so far the agency's suspicions had proved right.
Even if they couldn't actually legally arrest Dick, they were still right. They couldn't arrest Tim either, although they did have quite the dossier on Jason. And the latest one… they were all pretty sure the little mite had at least five kills on his hand, but then rumors said he was actually Wayne's son too.
"And you do understand that I prefer plausible deniability to having my face plastered close to yours in the tabloids?" Dick moved from the chair to the bed and drew his fingers over Roy's wrists. There were slack to the cuffs, just enough that if Roy really wanted to he would have been able to find a way to get out of them. Not that Roy wanted to; in fact he had settled further into the plush bed and smirked. "And you didn't answer my question."
"That'd be a scandal, wouldn't it? Dick Grayson in bed with the feds." Roy smirked at Dick. "And you should know, I'm here on federal business, I'm sure your brutes got through ransacking my room ages ago."
Dick rolled his eyes, and then straddled Roy's hips. "Not the point, Harper, and I'm sure you know it." From the peevishness to Dick's voice and the way he lost some of that ice cold veneer Roy could tell that Dick had found the files explaining Roy's mission and knew that there was more to it.
"I'm here to make you an offer."
One of Dick's eyebrows went up and Roy loved the way his statement kindled a look of surprise and interest. "An offer?"
"Yup." Roy stretched, his body moving underneath Dick. Dick made a soft noise, almost a hum, of approval. "The agency wants in."
"In?" And the chill was back. "I'm afr-"
"Oh, stuff it tight pants." Roy grinned affectionately at the criminal mastermind. Dick looked slightly chagrined, a façade if Roy had ever seen one. Still, Dick wasn't threatening him or shooting him (both of which he'd done at one point or the other) so Roy was going to count it as a win. "They want in, and I'm here to negotiate."
"What are they offering?" Dick ground down against Roy's hips and Roy fought the instinct to buck back. It'd be so easy to just give in and go straight for the sex at this point, but he didn't want to forget anything and he knew once the sex was done he'd be dumped right back in his cheesy hotel. Or kept chained up for round two, that had happened now and again.
"Me."
Dick's laugh was warm, charming, and utterly false. "If I wanted you, Red, I would have had you already."
This statement was true enough, probably, although Roy knew that the agency he worked for wouldn't have let him go without a fight.
"Not just me." Roy rolled his hips up against Dick's and dropped his voice an octave. "I've heard there's a certain office you've been considering. Wouldn't you like me to call you Mister President?"
The surprised, delighted, and conniving look that spread across Dick's face made the fact that Roy was breaking a dozen laws absolutely worth it. (Also the near indentured slavery, and the fact that Ollie was *not* going to approve.)