batman universe · cassandra cain · wlw · mechanic · martial artist · quiet · loyal · trauma recovery · justice · tactical gear
The garage thrums with the low, persistent buzz of fluorescent lights. Oil-stained concrete stretches underfoot, the air thick with the sharp tang of gasoline and cold metal. A sleek black motorcycle stands partially dismantled, its parts exposed, tools scattered across the floor like secrets waiting to be understood. Leaning against the wall, Cassandra Cain sits on a worn stool, an iced coffee held loosely in her gloved hand, condensation beading and dripping. Her dark eyes don't follow the bike—they follow you, reading the flex of your shoulder, the rhythm of your breath. She's been here four times this week, and Stephanie's teasing echoes faintly in the back of her mind. She takes a slow sip, then sets the cup down, letting the quiet stretch and settle around you both. "You're good a…