A Musebox for Flying Squids

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Eddie had gone along with it mainly to appease Ozzie. They needed something to rekindle their relationship over and playing matchmaker was at least something to talk about besides past mistakes.

Bunny's kiss had lingered in his memory. It was the least sexual act he'd ever performed with a woman who was supposed interested in him, but it had burned hot against his skin and his frozen soul. That was something worth repaying, even if she'd never know exactly what it meant to him.

Eddie wore a nice suit and filled his pocket with cash for drinks and dinner, and tried to shelve his worries for an evening. They would talk about her science and her schooling, and he'd briefly fascinate her with the most interesting of the cases he was allowed to talk about, and possibly sex would happen. That would be nice for an evening.

Anything beyond that, of course, was impossible.

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Nothing was impossible. Bunny was in a pink dress that suited her skin color and left her long, pale hair loose over her shoulders. She had a clutch purse in one hand, She managed on stiletto heels like she'd been born in them, and it brought her up to Eddie's not incredible but not dismissable height, either.

"Hey, handsome. How's tonight treating you?" she asked, when he picked her up.

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"Better now that I've got someone to share it with." The old script, the basic back and forth of courters. He hadn't used it in a while. Cypher opened the car door for her with a grin.

It felt very clinical in his head. She was attractive, no doubt. The sex would be quite nice and he would do his very best to pay her back for the kiss in kind. But it was all a formula with variables to plug into it.

"How about you? How's college life?"

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"Oh, c'mon, Eddie. You can do better than that." She tossed her hair back, blue eyes-- contacts, color change lenses -- bright as they settled together in the car.

"College is alright. Probably going to have to take next semester off. Family troubles, money flow, but-- it'll be nice to have some breathing room, for a change," she said. "Thankfully, Ozzie's a generous man with his paychecks."

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"Sometimes a break helps." He'd never gone to college. She would not be finding that out. "You can get your head together, look at other potential paths. I've found that college can make on feel locked into a certain career goal."

Ozzie had even picked the restaurant. Good for him, because he made enough decisions in his life without having to worry about what place wouldn't either overcharge you on the steak or poison you with it.

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"It's not so much a break as -- simply putting my studies on hiatus. I have some issues with my sister, and... they take priority at the moment. You have a brother-- I'm sure you know what it's like."

She's very sure. She's seen them together.

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Not a twitch. He was getting quite good at this. Cypher instead offered a grin and a shrug. "Of course. He's quite clever, but he's also an amazing pain in my ass. The two may be related." At the moment, if Cypher recalled correctly, his twin was helping Jon with a bit of weapons manufacturing sabotage. And Alice and Waylon were both at work, and Belladonna was researching, and Jackie had better damn well be in bed but probably wasn't.

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"My sister's the successful one. But I'm the clever one," she said.

(Jackie was getting sexts. He was not in bed.... well, he was, but he wasn't sleeping.)

"How did both of you get involved with investigation?"

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Sexts were acceptable as long as he wasn't taking them from the rooftop. The man needed some damned rest.

"We're nosy and decided to make a profit from it." It wasn't too far from the real truth. "What does your sister do, then?"

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"The polite answer is 'be idly rich'," she said wryly. "The honest answer is 'be at home with a rare illness, while I handle her day to day living. Siblings, huh? Can't live with them, but you can't just abandon them, either.' She's my half sister. Same father, different mothers, very different circumstances."

There's something that doesn't fit here. The story is so practiced it slides on like a well worn dress, but there's something she's not giving.

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"Really? How did that happen?" He's a detective. He assumes everyone lies, and with an agreeing nod he pretends that none of them do. It's the way to get people to tip their hands.

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"The same way it usually does, Edward," she said, casting a glance in his direction. "One's the daughter of his rich Bollywood wife, one's the the daughter of his 'true love' that society won't let him be with. The usual."

Perfectly pat. The complete story. Tale as old as time. No reason to suspect it's at all false, right?

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"Ah. How cinematic." Every reason, but for a first date and a one night stand Eddie isn't going to stir the pot by pushing. (Is he curious? Yes. But he can research her after she leaves in the morning, or get the story out of Ozzie. These things can wait.) "And then there's you, caught in the middle through no fault of your own?"

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"Very. I'm sure her mother knows a Bollywood song and dance number about it," she said, and there was no sharpness there, only a wry fondness.

"As for fault, I'm just too curious for my own good. You understand."

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"More than you know." He rolled his eyes in good-natured agreement. Curiosity nearly killed the cat enough times that only Timekeeper could keep track of them all. What could he do, it was in his blood. The world would be boring otherwise. "But I'm a private detective, it counts as a job skill."

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"Except I'm totally not engaging you one bit," she said with a musing smile as the car stopped. Well, time for a nice, if awkward, meal. "Which is okay, if I'm not your type."

The brief pause between car and being seated weren't tense--at least, not for Bunny. But reservations were made, Ozzie ha helped, and there's already a good bottle of wine waiting.

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Great. Gotham's greatest detective and he couldn't maintain a decent enough cover to pretend he was into the woman he'd been set up with. Cypher hoped it was just the near-death experience that had rattled him rather than this being a problematic trend.

"It's not you. I'm a rotten date, there's always something on my mind." He gave her an embarrassed smile as they were seated. "Detectives don't really get days off."

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"No, they don't. But you really need to take one," she said with noe of her dazzling smiles. "You know I've got an array of forensic skills. Do you need a helper to handle the grunt work?"

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Oh hell no. "Unfortunately it's not that kind of work," Cypher said with a regretful smile, toying with the stem of his wineblass. "As much as I would love to have you along, private detectives don't come across dead bodies very much. We mostly deal in interpersonal drama. It pays, and it does get interesting on occasion, but police work was much more exciting for me."

She seemed smart, though plenty of people seemed smart until you put a magnifying glass and a set of tweezers in her hand, but the kind of work he was thinking about did not need outsiders involved. (Cypher had no intention of setting up another Harleen Quinzel situation.)

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Something teased at Bunny's lips; a gotcha she didn't share.

"But you went straight from police work." She said. Like leaving the force was actually the honorable thing, that it was crooked and she knew it.

Not that many in people in Gotham didn't it, but it wasn't exactly common talk when a cop could be listening, could be ready to get you in trouble. But she was relatively safe, right? With an ex-cop.

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