The Elevator

Fandom: Batman

Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, mentions of others

Summary: After a long day of work, the last thing company executive Dick Grayson wanted to do was get stuck in an elevator with a pissy librarian. | "Since we're going to be in here a while…"

The elevator seemed sinister, even before it broke. Maybe it was the stained carpet, the peeling wallpaper, or the dim light. Or maybe it was the fuming redhead in the corner.

But as Dick Grayson stepped foot onto the elevator on Thursday, November 11, he ignored the bad vibes he was getting and just focused on the fact that at last, at 10:30 p.m., he was going home. The weekend was steadfastly approaching. He also ignored the redhead, who was leaning against the wall with a scowl on her face.

He pressed the button for the ground (she'd already pressed the one for the parking garage) and stood off to the side of the elevator opposite of the woman, as to not violate her personal space.

Dick thought he recognized her as one of the librarians in the research department of Wayne Ent., but he wasn't sure. HQ didn't really interact with them all that much, and Dick ha. more important things to do with his time than checking in on the lower rankings of employees, being the Chief Financial Officer. Although, his brother Tim, who was the Chief Operations Officer, probably had.

Dick relaxed a bit, finally allowing himself to breathe after nearly 14 hours of negotiations, meetings, and sleazy clients. It had been a long day of epic proportions, and Dick was eager to go home and sleep. Until, that is, 7:00 sharp the next morning when he had to do the exact same thing all over again.

Dick sighed. Being the executive of a Fortune 500 was hard freaking work.

A loud screech startled him out of his thoughts. He quickly looked over at the woman a few feet away from him, but she looked as confused as she did. And then, the absolute worst thing that could have ever occurred at that moment happened: the elevator slowed down, and stopped.

"Oh, for Christ's Sake!" the woman exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Please tell me that I'm overreacting, and the doors will open in like three seconds."

When it didn't happen, Dick replied, "I think it's broken."

She groaned in exasperation, looking at him in astonishment. "You don't say."

Dick held his hands up in surrender.

The woman messed with the floor buttons for a few minutes, apparently trying to get the elevator to move. It didn't budge.

Picking up his phone, he sighed and dialed the number for the maintenance man on duty.

The man picked up after a few rings. "Hello, Mr. Grayson. What can I for ya tonight? You at home?"

"Hey, Paul," Dick said tiredly. He noticed the woman l"I'm still at work, stuck in an elevator that refuses to move."

"Hm." Paul paused for a moment. "Well, I'm at a job on the seventh floor. I'll be there ASAP, though. What elevator you in?"

Dick looked around for a number that would indicate where he was. He saw nothing. Deciding to take a chance, he asked the woman in there with him, "Do you happen to know what elevator we're in?"

She raised an eyebrow. "The name's Barbara, by the way. And why would I know what elevator we're in?"

Dick shrugged. "No clue, Paul."

The older man on the other end sighed. "Alright, I'll be down-"

The line went silent.
"What the-?" He said under his breath. "Paul, are you there?"

No reply.

Dick looked at his phone. The screen was black and unresponsive. "Shit." He turned to the girl (Barbara, apparently), and tentatively asked her, "You don't happen to have a working on you, do you?"

"No," She replied acidly, "it died about four hours ago, when I was supposed to get off of my shift."

She crossed her arms and slowly sat down, leaning against the wall. Dick stared at her for a second.

"What?" Barbara said harshly. "We're obviously going to be here for a while. I might as well make myself comfortable."

Shrugging, he followed suit. "In that case, I should introduce myself. My name is Dick. Dick Grayson."

She raised her eyebrows and looked away, scoffing. "I know who you are, Chief Financial Officer Dick Grayson. I'm not stupid, no matter what you execs think."

Surprised by this personal jab, Dick pulled his head back. He was growing used her attitude, but this was the first time her anger was directed towards him. "Woah, woah, woah," he said, holding up his hands. "What did I do in the ten minutes we've shared this elevator to make you so… so… pissy?"

She groaned indignantly. "I'm so… pissy, as you put it, because of lovely executives like you who think because they're in charge they can delegate work to the interns, causing them to stay for four extra hours when they could be going home, or going to their actual paying jobs! I got news for you, buddy; we weren't all born rich!"

Out of breath and red in the face, the redhead leaned back.

A few minutes passed. Dick noticed she didn't look as mad as before. Maybe she got all her anger out. So, feeling brave, he ventured, "Since it looks like we're going to be in here a long time, you should know, I wasn't born rich."

"I don't-"

"No, no, hear me out- I wasn't born rich. I was adopted when I was ten. Before then, I lived with my parents at a circus. Haly's circus. We weren't rich. At all. I think we had a trailer sometimes, when we were in America- but mostly not. So." He cleared his throat.

Silence. Then, softly, "I used to go to Haly's circus with my parents." She gently moved a piece of hair out of her face. "Wait. Your last name is Grayson, as in the Flying Graysons? That can't be true; they're all-"

"Dead," Dick finished with a wry smile. "Yeah, well. I was nine years old, they didn't know if the crime boss that did it was still after me. I went from foster home to foster home. It was pretty terrible."

Barbara looked a lot less severe since Haly's circus was mentioned. "I'd bet."

"But it got better after Bruce adopted me."

She looked taken aback. "Wait, Bruce Wayne?"

Dick chuckled."The one and only."

"Talk about a lucky break."

Shrugging, he replied, "He was at the performance the night they died. Guess he knew something about about watching your parents die in front of you."

Nodding, she didn't reply, instead gazing at the ground.

The silence was perforated by the soft buzz of the overhead lights. About twenty minutes passed, and Dick thought that that was the end of their conversation.

Until, she suddenly looked up and said, "You know, my parents died when I was little, too."

"Really?"

She nods, quickly. "Car crash. I was six."

"What happened after that?"

"My dad adopted me." She laughed once. "Actually, he's my uncle, but I call him my dad. He's been good to me, anyway. You know Commissioner Gordon?"

Taking off his suit jacket, Dick replied, "Yeah. He and Bruce know each other pretty well."

"Well that's him. He's the one who got me this internship. It sucks, but I do it for him."

Dick dared to smile at her. She doesn't return it, but she doesn't look at him like she wants to skin him and his family alive. "That's nice of you."

"Hmph. That's what they call me, Barbara the Kind."

After that, the conversation turns from serious, heart-wrenching backstories to topics like childhood ambitions ("You wanted to be a vigilante?" "Hey, I had big dreams! I could have pulled it off.") to insane younger siblings ("He's how old?" "Ten." "And he's already preparing to take over the company?" "Damian's… a special kid. It's just a phase. We hope.") to Gotham City's own superheroes ("What do you mean you've never heard of Batman, Dick? Have you been living in this city or not?" "Um, no comment."). Eventually, the two were sitting next to each other and a comfortable silence takes over.

She fell asleep on his shoulder. He dared not move, allowing himself to close his eyes and rest.

About an hour later according to his watch, the elevator suddenly jumped into action, startling them out of their slumber. The door miraculously opened.

"Hi, Mr. Grayson," Paul said, sticking his head in. "Took us a while to find what elevator you were in, and then fix it."

Dick rubbed his eyes, still drowsy from his little nap. "You couldn't look at the security footage?"

"Huh," Paul said. "Didn't think of that."

"Yeah, okay. We'll talk later. Do you have a piece of paper?"

Paul nodded, and handed him one. Dick quickly wrote his name and number on it. He handed it to Barbara, who was standing behind him still. "Hey," he said quietly. "Text me."

He turned back to Paul and the few other maintenance men next to him. In the middle of chewing them out for taking three goddamn hours to fix a simple electricity problem, he saw Barbara walking out to her car. She winked, giving him a small smile, and Dick allowed himself to think that maybe his job wouldn't be so unbearable anymore.

For once in his life, Dick was almost optimistic about work tomorrow.