2014.02.11 - Slade's Favor

Ever since SHIELD had picked up Dinah four days ago, she'd managed to avoid her place. She considered it 'marked', between creepy stalkers and hit contracts, designer hallucinations in the water, and a busy schedule. She slept at the Hall of Justice and at the Clocktower. Her appointment with Slade Wilson, as set by Roy, was this afternoon. This was well timed, because Dinah needed a new change of clothes, she tore out across Gotham, back to her apartment, situated over The Sherwood Florist shop. Pulling up in her prized, custom motorcycle, she immediately noticed signs of damage. Front door smashed in, window broken. She pushed the door open: it was unlocked, and looked like it wasn't *able* to be locked. A worried gasp filled her lungs, and her gaze scrambled the scene, making sure there weren't any bodies lying around. Some blood the room... not a good sign. Her shop was a crime scene, a forth of her inventory broken, bullet holes in the tables, and the register.

And a note. Dinah plucked it up: Gangsters. Question hurt. Helena apologizes.

"Shit," Dinah said to herself, gritting her teeth. She didn't even know who to be angry at. She grabbed her large broom from the back room, and began pushing debris into a centralized pile on the floor.

A deep sonorous voice rumbles it's way out from behind a large stand of floral arrangements that managed to suffer only a few stray bullets and not be utterly destroyed, "Harper was correct." the voice says as Slade steps into view, "You need better security." he's not in 'uniform' tonight, instead choosing to wear a pair of nice pants, a high necked sweater, and a long camel hair coat instead. His hair is neatly trimmed maintained, and his goatee impeccable. He really is a rather handsome man all things considered. He turns his head this way and that, eyeing the shop and uses his foot to gather a bit of broken glass up into a pile for her. His hands are in his pockets and he looks almost idly, "I am Slade Wilson, I believe Roy told you I would be stopping by." the nonchalance in his tone and demeanor makes him appear almost bored..

Dinah lets out a muffled little 'eep' when she hears Slade--for a split-second thinking it was yet another killer. Then she saw...a killer. But this one, she was expecting. Maybe not already inside, but under the circumstances, it seemed reasonable. Stepping over a broken pot, she quirked and eyebrow at Slade, looking him over. She'd never met the man, but his reputation proceeded him. She already knew that Slade knew that she knew who he was. And he undoubtedly knew who she was. Still, formality was appropriate. "Sorry I'm a bit late," she noted with a smile, offering him a handshake, "Dinah Lance." She stood there, knowing what the scene looked like behind her: wreckage. "You know, I was supposed to kick you out of here today. Scoff at Roy's idea. I know people that hate you. People that'd want me to come at you fist-first," she continued to smile while saying this, looking calm, "But things are falling apart. Think I could use all the help I can get." The admission visibly pained her; Dinah loathed to admit she was overwhelmed, or in over her head.

Slade is larger then most people expect. Taller, broader, just... bigger. Like a professional football player he towers and looms unintentionally. That feeling falls away a bit when he offers a warm friendly smile and taker her hand in a shake, "Slade Wilson." he says in greeting, drawing her hand upward where he goes through the motion but doesn't actually brush his lips across her knuckles, "Charmed." it's an archaic way to greet a lady, but he makes it seem natural. He grins at her words, an easy confidence settling around him, "If they hate me that much then they don't care for you enough. I am many things but foremost among them is a man of my word. You've nothing to fear from me while we complete this project." he says easily with another look around the room, her fingers slipping free of his own, "I've already sent the blue prints for this building to my man, and scanned the existing structure for unapproved alterations..." he turns his head to the side as if hearing something and he smile again, "Ah. Right on time." and there's a hesitant knock at the door.

Slade makes his way to the front of the shop and there's some murmured conversation before he reappears with bags of delivery food and a slightly concerned looking Asian man holding what appears to be a pot of tea and some cups, "I haven't eaten yet and thought we could discuss the details over dinner. I hope you don't mind, I ordered enough for two." Thai food if the smell is any indication.

Dinah was certainly taken aback by Slade's preparation... and dinner. But she was indeed starving, and hadn't eaten a meal since since breakfast.

"Alright," she said, nearly laughing with a little smile, and stepped back to the supply closet. "Let me get some dishes," Dinah returned with a few nice, clean china dishes, and slid them over a table that used to be a flower display, covering up a few stray bullet holes. Pulling two folding chairs from behind the register (they were rusty but functional), she looked over the food, deciding what to scoop up for consumption. She quickly made her decision, and piled it on the plate.

"I'm not sure how much Roy has briefed you. The place has been targeted in a variety of ways. The first incident was a break-in. They managed to alter numerous things both here, and upstairs in my apartment, without my detection. Altered the pipes to my kitchen sink, even."

Slade continues to lay out the food as she gets plates, and in short order the table looks more like a family meal (if a bit bullet holey) and less like take out. He thanks the Asian man who's set up the tea for them as well, and then pays him, tipping generously before holding out Dinah's chair for her and then taking his own. "In what way?" he asks curiously as he waits until she's done to load up his own plate.

"The 'stalker', as I've been calling him, switched out an incoming pipe just below the faucet. It had an attachment that filtered in small trace amounts of a toxin. A hallucinogenic agent... it was not a fun time," Dinah said, matter-of-factly, before slurping up some noodles. While grace and composure were certainly not beyond Dinah, she was feeling a bit...frayed, and her gruff manner seemed perfectly fine. She was, after all, ultimately a brawler. "With the news of an open mercenary contract," Dinah paused for a moment saying this. Wasn't she talking to a mercenary? "We realized this place was getting the point of just being unsafe. But this place is special. I'd hate to let it go... It's my home."

Slade listens to her and nods his head in understanding, "Home is a powerful thing." he admits as she talks, "They say it is a man," he offers a small smile, "or woman's, castle. As far as castles go I am not overly impressed with your moat." he pauses, noodles half way to his mouth, "So to speak... though if you like, we could install one." his lips quirk to show he's kidding. Mostly.

"What I'd really like," Dinah began, half-joking, "Is a reboot." She gulped another bite of food, and continued. "My pride and arrogance starting out--not tucking away my identity as a secret. Just trying to impress my mother... young and stupid," Dinah said, her frustration showing. "Now those I care about are vulnerable--because of my arrogance." She sighed a little. "How do you manage to do it? Like me, your name isn't broadcast on the news--but... there's people that know who you are. Don't you ever worry about vultures?"

Slade is quiet for a moment as he chews and seems to consider the thought for a long moment. He sets down the utensils and shrugs his way out of the coat, folding it over the back of his own chair. This shows off the shoulder rig he wears with the pair of pistols in it, and he reaches behind himself to the base of his spine and he pulls out a small folded scrap of paper which he unfolds to look at, "Everyday." he says softly, his voice deep and something around the eyes seems to soften slightly, "I'm older then you, I'm sure you noticed," he offers a wry smirk, "so listen to me and learn from my mistakes. Be honest with those you love, tell them what you do and who you are and make certain they understand the risks of your job, not to you, but to them. Then you train them so that they can defend themselves. No matter how careful you are, no matter how good you are," he sets the paper down on the table, pressing it there with a fingertip and showing it to be a quarter folded picture of a family. "Your enemies will find you, they will find the ones you love and eventually, one day, there will be a price to pay for the life you chose to lead. You will not be the one to pay it."

He stares at the photo for a long moment, Slade looming in the background regal in his bearing, stoic, but with a softness just around the eyes that almost looks like a smile. A stunningly gorgeous woman stands before him, a warm welcoming smile on her face but with a hardness to her eyes that mirrors that of her husband's. Three children, the two youngest look fidgety, as all young kids do, trying to smile with teeth to big for their young faces and tussled hair no longer made pretty for the photographer. The eldest boy however is the spitting image of his father, stoic and almost sad, but with an edge to him, a proud jut of the jawline and standing almost with military discipline that seems off on a boy who couldn't be more then thirteen. Slade eyes the picture a moment longer, "The vultures will come," he waves a hand at the room around them as if it were proof, "and you will have to respond." he's quiet for a long moment and somewhere in the speech his face has lost it's jovial kindness and become hard and sharp edged, scary really, the look of a man who's not only seen, but dealt more death then most people have seen on television. "De inimico non loquaris sed cogites." he says, the hard look leeching away from his face as the photo disappears once more, offering her an apologetic smile for his sudden intensity, "Sorry. Recent events, and your question, have reminded me I still have debts to pay."

Dinah listened attentively, eyes alert, as Slade spoke. She hadn't expected something so... raw... from the man, but his words affected her resolve in a way that nothing had, lately. In her mind, she thought it curious that Slade, of all people, would be a grounding voice.

"That's very...sensible," she simply said. "The more I push this, the more life is a fucking whirlwind. A full-speed trains pace." She paused. "Castle is right," Dinah started saying, picking up Slade's earlier reference, "This flower shop, it's the only way I've found to have any moments of peace. I care more for this downstairs, this shop, than where I hang my hat." With that, Dinah took her last bite of food that she'd been unabashedly been mauling down, emptying her plate. "Maybe more than any relationship," she said, a dourness in her tone of voice.

Dinah stood up and stretched her arms, gazing around the shambles of her flower shop once again. "No pressure, though," she humored.

Slade smirks, "There's always pressure my dear," he says as he looks around the room, "that's how diamonds are made." he takes a long breath, "Okay, enough of that entirely to serious nonsense, let us instead talk about how to keep you from being killed in your own home." because that's far less serious. Obviously. "This will be a serious refit, just to be clear, and will require the shop shut down for at least two weeks but more likely three to four, depending upon what issues may come up during the remodel. My man says that he will have to install new frames before the bullet proof windows can go in, as well as a couple of redundant power sources for the various security measures he would like to add to the building as a whole, not to mention how much he wishes to reinforce your load bearing structures." Slade smirks, "I told Harper I would provide you with a security system designed to thwart me... I imagine 'castle' will be more apt then either of us understands when the work is complete."

Dinah nods at Slate's initial assessment. "Turning this place into a stronghold, more than a drywall shooting gallery?" she says wryly. "I'll have to inform my...employees. But this shop isn't their primary means of income. And I have enough money to sustain me for some time, so the schedule is fine. Fast, even," she relays, pulling some random chunks of wood over to the pile of debris she'd swept earlier. She couldn't help but try to clean up, evidently. "I can be on site when you need. And I'll give you my contact info, of course. Will there be anything conspicuous on the outside, that might confuse customers?"

Slade shakes his head, "No. We will erect a number of 'remodeling' and 'returning soon' signs with some sort of fancy letter head telling everyone of the improvements to come. Some of this rebuild will also move a bit of your interior around so as to increase sales by causing customers to wander further through isles, see more, impulse buy more. Also it will stop any intruder from having a clear free straight path to the employee's area in the back. Two birds and all that." he continues to look around the room, checking the ceiling, "We're going to get rid of that awful drop ceiling tile as well, it's asking for an intruder, and we'll run track lighting instead." he waves the words away, "It's unimportant. I will not be entirely privy to the plans." he adds before turning to look at Dinah again, "This is a debt I owe to Harper and he's passed it along to you, which in no way changes the debt. Only my man will know all of the secrets of this system and he will not tell me." because what good is a system to keep Slade out if he knows it all?

"If I am to do this," Dinah says, her expression looking somehow like a weird mix of impressed, delighted, and cynical. "To trust you... I would consider myself in your debt." Dinah said this last part with a surprising bit of sincerity. She knew this was a risk, offering up a metaphorical blank check for her to assist him some day, but it was the only incentive she could think of to add to the possibility of him not somehow making some... well... an insane death trap out of her property. Or something justifiably paranoid like that. Plus, to someone so prideful of of 'their word' that Slade seemed to be, it felt like the right thing to do. Then, it occurred to her: what the hell did Roy do to earn this man's favor? She'd never thought to ask, strangely enough.

"Thank you for this. It may become one of the only things I can truly count on... apart from The Justice League," Dinah said, figuring that he'd catch the obvious hint of 'fuck with me, I got a Superman in my pocket'.

Slade eyes her for a moment, "No." he says simply concerning her debt, "I am repaying a debt to Harper and the repaying of one does not accue another in it's place." he says, the slight smile on his lips showing he understands what she's attempting but that he doesn't accept. Payments don't mean the person you're paying owes you anything. That's kind of the point. It evens the scales. "Ha!" he barks a single laugh at her last words, his grin widening to genuine amusement, "None to subtle Dinah and hardly effective. If you think I've not considered pitting myself against your League already..." his grin becomes a little predatory, "then you should talk to Harper about me in greater depth." Superman in her pocket? He has more plans for taking out Superman then Batman does. Everyone has to have a hobby, right? He plucks up his coat from the back of the chair and slides it on, it moves with a heaviness that belies the fact that it's carrying more then thick winter fabric. "This has been far more enjoyable then I expected it to be. Usually when I show up everyone gets jumpy or tries to start a fight. My last cup of coffee nearly ended in a public brawl." he smiles at the memory of crashing Roy, Dick, and Wally's lunch date. "Much prefer your company."

"I can be stubborn, and impulsive sometimes," Dinah says, perhaps hinting that those Slade mentioned are, also, "But I look at what's really going on, before I throw a punch. Part of me knows that if I dug hard enough, I'd find some things that I'm supposed to be turning you into the authorities for. But... that also goes for half my allies," she sheepishly admitted. "I hope your evening goes... peacefully," she said, seeing him prepare to go.

Slade chuckles at that, "You wouldn't have to dig Dinah." he says, adjusting the coat comfortably and turning to go, "Like I said, you should talk to Harper. He is a bit... rosy in his opinion of me, delusional, but he and I share an understanding the others of your type lack. Maybe he can share a bit of it with you. My man will arrive here tomorrow morning, you will find some contact information and a photo of him uploaded onto your phone under the name 'Peabody'. Be nice. If someone comes for you while he's here I wouldn't worry about needing to protect him either." Slade grins another of those less friendly more predatory smiles, "I've trained him since he was young." he pauses in the doorway on his way out, "Good evening Ms. Lance. I suggest you sleep somewhere else tonight. Contact Peabody. He will set you up with a series of safe-houses while the remodel takes place. This has been fun. We should do it again sometime before our professions require us to meet in more... colorful clothing." Another smile, this one more teasing, and then he's gone into the snowy night.