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Dinah Lance blondecanary
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The Arms Hotel, Pillow Suite, Saturday morning
Dinah opened her eyes, and frowned up at the billowy fluffy ceiling. Why had she fallen asleep in the main suite room last night? Probably because she'd been so tired she hadn't been able to make it to the bedroom. And it wasn't like the floor wasn't soft enough to collapse on. She gave her little nest an experimental push, and yawned, staggering to her feet. Then tripped and fell face-first over onto another huge pillow. Why had she come back to Fandom, again?

Right. Overwork, overkill, and Helena tricking her and then shoving her into a portal. Steeling herself, Dinah grumbled and headed toward the coffee maker in the kitchenette area, trying to will coffee into existence.

[open! Dinah is 38, but looks 27, for reference, if you stop by to say hi.]

Reflexively, Dinah started to pull a strand of hair over her face, then realized how dumb that was. Sin would be staring at her in disbelief. She blew the strand out of her face, and grimaced, squaring her shoulders. Face the music. "Yeeeah. My particular bad. It wasn't just you, though. I think Karla's the only one who's seen me for... a while." She rubbed at her eyes. "A lot of weird went down at once, and I just..." He was still the same Priestly, right? She stared at him, searching his face, missing the goatee and the piercings, even if this version was more familiar now. "Bailed."

Yeah, he was still the same Priestly. You know, mostly.

"I get that." And he did, mostly. "I just -- I missed the crap out of you."

Why wasn't she hugging him yet? Right. Because she's been an idiot.

Dinah put her coffee down and opened her arms, biting back a sniffle. "Me too. I'm sorry."

"Nah, hey. I coulda hopped a portal to New Gotham or something." Yeah, Selene would have loved that. "Where are you going?" "To visit a woman in another dimension."

"So," he said, gracefully changing the subject. "You think this place is gonna throw something interesting at us, this weekend?"

"So do that next time. Don't let me be a dork."

Dinah would've told Selene that with an attitude like that, she couldn't come along. That would've helped a lot.

"When hasn't it?" She grinned a little, then bumped his shoulder. "We need to check out some of the old places, see how they've morphed into something else. I haven't been to a reunion here in ten years at least, I think."

"I haven't been in . . . ever." He'd skipped out on the ten year reunion. His restaurant was just starting to get off the ground, then, and the head chef couldn't take a weekend off when his sous was as likely to drink the cooking sherry as cook with it. "We should at least hunt down a decent cup of coffee. Maybe some breakfast I don't have to cook up myself."

And that, that right there, that was a true sign of just how screwed up Priestly's life had become. Cooking had become a chore.

"...you don't want to cook?"

That might've been a return to Bambi eyes of disbelief and worry there. "Oh. I thought-- yeah, never mind. We can go to the diner, what do you think?"

Hopefully the cooks there wouldn't recognize him without the hair, tattoos, and rings?

Yeah, he got that look from Jen a lot, too, when he saw her.

"Diner'd be cool. Old stomping grounds. I wonder if Lacey still runs the place."

"My treat," Dinah said, smiling a little wider. "And, and we can catch up. Although, I've been watching the show. Which isn't real life, but it feels like real life, so. I know part of what you've been up to."

Ah yes. The show. "I'm told it's at least entertaining. And, yeah, pretty much everything that happens ends up ratings fodder."

"Disasters and delights," Dinah said lightly, then TK'd her bag to herself. "I'm going to go, uh, take a shower. Get dressed." Not awkward. This was Priestly. And after a second's thought, it wasn't. She leaned in for a hug. "I'm glad you're here."

Man, he missed hugs. Or any physical sign of affection that wasn't entirely for the benefit of a TV audience. "Yeah. Me too."