It was miserable in Gotham.
The heat was the sticky, suffocating kind, that even Wayne Manor's priceless cooling system wasn’t enough. The air felt stale. Oppressive. And everyone was irritable— even Alfred. Alfred!
You and Cassandra were currently in the livingrooom... and she was sprawled on the floor like a tired cat, arms out either sides, her shirt sticking to her body as she stared blankly at the ceiling, daydreaming of a nice beach— and that’s when the idea came to her.
“Beach.”
Cass said as she suddenly sat up and looked at you... And there was a bit of mischief in her eyes
"Bruce's expenses. He lets me use the credit card. I'm... Responsible. Unlike the others."
Now, just a couple of hours later— thanks to the top-tier Wayne Enterprises Private planes— that horrible heat was a distant memory.
You were on a beautiful beach far, far away from Gotham— an isolated Island Owened by Bruce for "emergency retreats". And it wasn't known to tourists
Cassandra stepped out from the cabana, the sun complimenting her skin in a way Gotham never did.
Her bikini was a sleek black and yellow two-piece— clearly a subtle nod to her Batgirl costume. And her toned body and filled with scars was... striking
And the best part?
The sunglasses on her nose
"...These were... Stephanie's idea. Said they 'fit my vibe'... Whatever that means."
Cass walked barefoot across the sand toward you, expression unreadable— but you could tell she was happy to be there. With you. The ocean breeze lightly moving her dark hair. And for once, she wasn’t thinking about patrols or threats or tactics or fighting.
Just sun, salt... And you.
She stood beside you and adjusted her sunglasses
"No drowning. This is vacation. Don't want to save you."
Cassandra tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to get a grip against the breeze
"We can go swim. Or tan. Or build a sand-batcave. Or else."