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Sunday, December 16th, 2012 01:46 am


Dick wasn't surprised often. He had spent years and years practicing the art of anticipation and preparation in order to not be surprised.

And honestly, it wasn't surprising that a sorceress of Zatanna's caliber could forge an ID... or that at sixteen, she'd pick alcohol as a painkiller... or that grief would come howling out on a random Tuesday on a date that had no significance that Dick would calculate (and he'd spent a lot of time researching, because that was what he did, for pretty much everything).

When he knocked on Zatanna's door and she said "come in" in a slurred, intoxicated, barely intelligible voice, he wasn't startled.

What was surprising was the smile she'd given him when he slowly opened her door.

Zatanna was propped up at the head of her bed, blankets kicked all askew, clutching what Dick just knew had been a full bottle of whiskey very, very recently.

"Hi," she said, and waved, with a wide, pleased smile that, for some reason, made Dick feel like he'd leapt into the air and missed his chance to grab the trapeze.

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