#cassandra cain is a butch™
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Strange Sight
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which Cassandra finally talks to you for the first time, and of course it happens when you’re crying.
Cassandra Cain x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.39k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Reader referred as ‘girl’ and ‘pretty,’ not much angst, more of comfort, reader is pictured as being sensitive and crying easily, Cassandra doesn’t talk a lot, short sentences and hums.
note: this is based off the time I worked at taco bell and a manager scolded me and made me cry…also, I got her fired because she was put under investigation after that and they found a WHOLE lot of crap about her, and to this day I still feel guilty 💔
Very rarely is Cassandra ever intimidated by someone. The only person who comes close is her father.
But never cute, pretty girls.
Cassandra has seen you plenty of times. The first time, she was patrolling around Gotham, and came across a cat cafe that looked to be empty, except that the lights were on. It was getting pretty late, and Cassandra didn’t think anyone would be out and about at this time, with it being 5pm in the beginning of December, and night coming sooner than usual.
So, she took to walking the concrete sidewalks instead of the rooftops, which Jason would probably give her a light scolding for because it wouldn’t allow her to get the jump on any lawbreakers.
She was just passing the cat cafe when she caught the lights inside powering off in the corner of her eye, stopping her in her tracks when the door opened gently, and you stepped out.
It was so strange. Cassandra expected you to say something, anything, maybe scream for her silent figure startling you by standing right outside the door.
The scream never comes, however, you do meet her eyes under her cowl. You stare for a few moments, your eyes tracing over her mask, before turning and walking down the street, tote bag over your shoulder.
Cassandra stared after you. It was so strange, again. She could feel her cheeks burning under her mask, whether from how flustered and unusual she found your reaction to seeing THE Batgirl in front of you, or because…you were pretty. She wasn’t expecting that. Well, she was, all girls are beautiful to her, but you were the kind of pretty that affected her. You were pretty, pretty. Truthfully, she felt embarrassed. Of what? She’s not even sure.
That was the first time she saw you. The next dozen times she saw you, you were walking down that same street, with the same pink apron with an animated cat face in the front as part of your work uniform.
Tonight, however, was different. Cassandra had purposely passed by the cat cafe to try and see you again, except the lights inside were turned off. Strange. The open sign that hung on the inside of the front door of the cat cafe was flipped to the close sign. Strange x2.
Cassandra sighed defeatedly, settling on the fact that maybe you had to go home early, and she had missed you.
Her shoulders slump, and she grabs her grappling gun to launch it to the edge of a flat rooftop, pulling her up and continuing her patrol from up high.
It was a pretty quiet night, with the occasional sound of a car driving by on the road. She was still feeling pretty sad that she had missed you, and was trudging along the side of a rooftop, when she caught sight of your familiar hair, but it looked different. More…out of place, and frizzy.
You were sitting down on the bench at a bus stop, tired looking, with your usual tote bag slowly sliding off your shoulder as you stared down at the ground.
Even from up here, Cassandra could tell you looked sad, and tired.
Which brings her here. Feeling intimidated. She could go down there, and finally talk to you instead of hoping you’ll look at her and talk to her first.
She inhales, and exhales, and inhales again, before swinging down quietly.
She doesn’t know how, but she somehow got to stand right next to you without you even noticing her. She clears her throat, standing awkwardly off to the side of the bench.
You startle slightly, looking up at her with wide eyes.
It’s when you look up when Cassandra freezes, this time it’s not because you’re pretty, it’s because you’re crying.
You stare up at Cassandra for a moment, sniffing. “Um, hello..?”
You know who Batgirl is. Who doesn’t? This is Gotham, home of vigilantes, kinda. But it’s pretty rare to just see her out and about, much less trying to communicate with someone. She’s pretty known for her quiet and demure demeanor, and with the lack of articles surrounding her, not a lot of people know much about her.
“Mmh.” Cassandra hums lamely, her own greeting back to you.
There’s an awkward silence that fills the space between you, before Cassandra awkwardly clears her throat again. “You okay?” She asked carefully.
You nod, but at her question you can feel tears stinging at your eyes again. “Mhm.” You hum in reply, not trusting yourself to speak as you awkwardly try to look away and keep THE Batgirl from seeing your tears.
Oh god. The two years Cassandra spent to learn her communication skills are suddenly blanking from her mind, her tongue goes numb once she spots your eyes getting glassy.
Do something. Move.
Cassandra plops down onto the bench, leaving a bit of room for you to scoot away from her if you feel uncomfortable. “You can…talk to me. If you need.”
You finally look back up at her, right in time for a tear to glide down the curve of your cheek. Cassandra almost wants to reach out and wipe it off, but she clenches her fists by her sides.
“If it’s not too much…” You say, pausing for a moment to see if Cassandra would change her mind. She doesn’t, she just shakes her head for you to continue.
You swallow your nerves, a little intimidated by the thought of venting to a stranger, a vigilante, Batgirl, no less.
“I just…had a bad day at work.” You start off, hesitantly looking towards Cassandra.
Cassandra stays quiet, waiting for you to continue.
You take a deep breath, exhaling. “I work at the cat cafe nearby—“
I know that. Cassandra says mentally.
“-and I accidentally took the wrong order out to a customer, and I was scolded by my manager.” You say softly, rubbing away the tears that start to gather quicker at your eyes just from recalling the memory.
“She wasn’t even being mean about it, I’m just being sensitive and I started freaking out after she yelled at me and eventually one of the other managers sent me home because I wouldn’t stop crying and-“ You end your sentence off there, and take a sharp inhale of air, calming yourself down from getting worked up again.
Your breathing exercise might be too late though, because you crumple over your knees and whimper softly as you cry, trying to cry as quietly as you can and make yourself seem smaller.
Cassandra sits there awkwardly for a moment, going back and forward in her mind to decide what to do, before her gloved hand slowly reaches out, and softly lands on your back, rubbing it soothingly.
Your shoulders tremble while you cry, before relaxing a moment after Cassandra places her hand on your shoulder.
Eventually, your sniffles come less and less, until you no longer feel the need to sniff your tears and mucus away.
You sit up, using the back of your hand to wipe away the rest of the tears, before smiling genuinely at Cassandra. “Thank you. I feel a lot better now.”
Cassandra swallows. This is the first time she’s seen you smile. And you’re smiling at her.
“Um, mhm, it’s no problem.” She says after a moment of being lost for words at your smile.
She goes to open her mouth to talk, before she’s interrupted with a bus pulling in front of the bus stop.
You stand up, adjusting the straps of your tote bag and walking towards the bus doors opening. You pause, standing in front of the entrance to the bus, and looking over your shoulder at Cassandra.
“Thank you again, Batgirl.” You nod at her, before hurrying onto the bus after the driver sends you an impatient look, sitting in a random seat.
Cassandra stands there dumbly, staring after the bus as it pulls off the side of the road, and drives past her, leaving Cassandra in the empty silent space. Silent, except for the sound of police sirens and dogs barking in the distance, a reminder that she’s still on patrol.
She whips around, the bus long gone down the empty street by now.
“Bye.” She says quietly, before grabbing her grappling hook and taking off into the air onto a building nearby.
What a strange night.
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