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"I didn't think Bats were the nudist types," Steph said, leaning back against the counter. Cass didn't didn't say anything, just looked at Steph with a bland expression and poured herself a glass of orange juice from a carton in the Batcave's well-stocked fridge. Steph couldn't help the way her appreciative gaze roamed over Cass's body-- Batgirl moved like a panther when she was in uniform, all strength and grace, so Steph could be forgiven for indulging her curiosity about the body all that leather was hiding.

Cass was a study in opposites from Tim. Steph's boyfriend was skinny and awkward under his brightly-colored Kevlar, moving easily despite his shortcomings rather than because of his merits. Steph teased him about being a complete nerd, all bony, with skin that was way too pale, and innocent blue eyes. Cass looked anything but innocent, watching Steph with a guarded expression, and standing at ease, as though wandering around the freezing Batcave naked was the most normal thing in the world. Tim was scrawny, but Cass was slim like a dancer, sleek muscle that didn't seem to bulk her up at all. And Tim definitely didn't have the high, pert breasts, or that tiny, tapered waist, or the hips that swung out a little when he shifted his weight a little. The only thing he really had in common with Cass was his height and the multitude of scars that criss-crossed both their bodies. Steph idly eyed the way one nasty scar crossed down over Cass' collar bone and under the curve of her right breast.

Steph leaned around Cass to hit the switch which returned the fridge back into its little cubby in the wall, accidentally-on-purpose brushing against Batgirl as she pulled back. Steph took it as a good sign that Cass didn't even flinch when Steph's fingertips brushed her hip. Cass just watched Steph mildly and took a sip of her juice. "You've got a lot of scars," she commented, "is that what I've got to look forward to? No, nevermind, that's depressing. Do all Bats learn how to wander around in below freezing temperatures wearing no clothes at all?"

"No."

It had been months since Cass' non-answers last bothered Steph and she wrapped her arm around Steph's waist, fingers trailing over a hip. Cass' skin was cool but smooth, although Steph was sure that if she was out of uniform, she'd have goosebumps everywhere. "Well, that's good. It's not like I want all the creepy bats to see my goodies, you know. And hell, the big boss probably has cameras everywhere. Perv." Cass didn't shrug the arm off. Steph leaned into the embrace, sprawling a bit over Cass's shoulder. "we should go out tonight, do a nice sweep of the rooftops. What'dya say? The Bat'll be happy with us, right?" That was pretty much code for 'let's go hang out and you can can beat me at racing.' Cass glanced up under thick lashes without a word. But her lips were twitching a little in agreement.

Her bare hands-- Steph jumped, Cass's hands were cold even through the Robin uniform-- ran up Steph's sides as though she was carefully searching for something. "You don't have scars?" Cass's voice was low and husky, like she was a little out-of-practice.

"Not like yours." Steph jerked her arms up, biting back a yelp. "That tickles!"

She wriggled underneath Cass's probing hands, her own hands dropping to Cass's shoulders, not quite pushing her away so much as trying not to fall over.

"Cass, Cass!" Steph's voice cracked into a squeak as Cass' fingers slid higher towards more sensitive skin. Then the hands fell away and Steph laughed shakily, an embarrassed grin sneaking onto her face. "Damn, I'm not much of a Bat if I can't keep my composure."

Then Cass snapped open the clasp on Steph's bat-belt and shoved the bright red tunic up over Steph's breasts. Steph flailed, stumbling back onto her ass and fumbling with the fabric, trying to pull it back down. The blush gracing her cheeks nearly matched her uniform shirt.

"What the hell was that for?" Steph demanded, finally managing to get her tunic back down somewhere vaguely modest. "Cass, seriously! If you want me to go naked with you, all you have to do is ask. Don't just go undressing me." In the back of Steph's mind a little voice pointed out that Cass must be really comfortable, if she was okay with randomly pulling Steph's shirt off. Cass arched her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her (impressive, Steph's mind supplied) chest.

Steph sat up, trying to stare down Cass and failing miserable. "Well, okay." She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. The cold air of the cave hit her immediately and she shivered, wrapping her arms around her torso. "It's cold," she accused, as though she hadn't already known the cave was ice-cold.

Instead of responding to the accusatory tone, Cass just offered a hand up, which Steph accepted, and went back to examining Steph's torso with her fingers.

Steph made a strangled sound and pushed at Cass's hands. "I don't have the scars you've got. Stop that, it tickles. If you're going to touch, warm me the hell up, it's freezing." She indicated her nipples, perky from the cold, and grumped quietly. Cass eyed her askance, as though trying to measure Steph's seriousness, before closing the small gap between them and wrapping her arms around Steph's waist.

Steph froze momentarily before snuggling closer to the slight warmth Cass's body provided. "That works too." She threw her arms around Cass's neck and leaned down to rest her forehead against Cass's. Cass looked up at her, a little confused by the motion but seemed content with leaning into the touch.

"You know," Steph said after a few moments of relaxing in that position. "On the Planet of Not-Crazy-Batchicks, this sort of thing is usually followed with a kiss." Cass frowned, lips pursing. Steph took that as the invitation it probably wasn't, and kissed Cass as sweetly as Steph had ever kissed anyone. And Cass didn't kill her afterwards, so they were really about even.

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