Bang bang bang! "Drake! On your feet, let's go!"

Tim awoke hazily to the security guard's incessant snapping and banging against the bars of his cell. He groaned and dragged himself off the hard, springy mattress that wasn't all that comfortable anyway. "Wa's goin' on?" he muttered in sleepy annoyance as the guard opened the door. Tim held out his wrists, as was custom, in order for the man to slap handcuffs unnecessarily tight around his wrists and yank him forward out of the cell.

"You've got a visitor," the gruff voice replied from behind him as he pushed Tim along down the hall.

"It's the middle of the night," Tim complained with a yawn. The guard just snorted and gave him an extra sharp jab from his baton. It wasn't the first time this had happened, to be honest. He had shady, impromptu visitors all the time trying to coerce him for information. Or threaten...or pay him off...or would even offer to bust him out of Arkham. Tim smirked as each and every time he sent them packing with their tails between their legs. Whoever this new solicitor was was about to be sorely disappointed, just like the rest of them. Tim just wanted to get this over with and go back to sleep.

"Sit," the guard barked as he heavy metal door to the windowless, concrete interrogation room. Not many people knew of it's existence here at Arkham, but whenever a client needed a meeting with an inmate and didn't want to be overheard or disturbed, this was where it always took place. Tim obeyed the man without a word and sat at the plain metal table, hands outstretched as the guard shackled him to it mechanically.

"You might want to humor this one, Drake," the man sneered as he sauntered back toward the door. "Otherwise, I'd have a body to explain to the warden, and that would just be inconvenient."

"Your concern is touching," Tim rolled his eyes dryly as the man disappeared through the door and closed it behind him.

"You have ten minutes," he heard the guard say to the visitor outside. He took a deep breath and sighed, trying and failing to prevent another yawn before, right on schedule, the lights flickered out. He stared into the darkness, bored until not four seconds later the lights blared back to life and he saw the strangest man he had ever met.

He was young...not much older than himself, he suspected. And he was lovely...in a sharp, deadly kind of way. His hair was dark and fell in messy points all around his face. He was long and slender, but the tight contours of the black suit (which left very little to the imagination) showed off lean, lethal muscles underneath. His face displayed exotic features like his curved lips and straight, pointed nose and aristocratic cheek bones underneath dark, olive tinted skin, but what was most striking were his strange, piercing yellow eyes with a vertical slit like a snake or...a bird of some kind.

Tim couldn't hide his open mouthed stare as his stomach lurched and fluttered in that annoying teenage way. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He'd never had a visitor quite like this before.

The visitor's lips curved into a seductive smile, his sharp eyes not missing Tim's reaction for a second. "Like what you see?" he murmured in a sultry, tenor voice that made Tim shiver.

"It's not everyday I get eye candy," Tim retorted, trying to be witty, but failing to hide the way he cleared his throat or blushed light pink. The visitor chuckled lightly and draped himself into the seat opposite to Tim.

"Can I ask why you...what you want with me?" Tim cleared his throat again and asked firmly as he could.

"Why do you think?" he replied, beating around the bush, but not missing a beat.

"Information, just like everyone else," Tim deadpanned, something like disappointment settling in his chest, but he pushed it away determinedly.

"Of sorts...yes," the man nodded, lacing his slender, gloved fingers together and resting his chin atop them as he peered over at Tim with his strange yellow eyes.

"What do you want to know?" Damn it, he makes it sound like he might actually let the information go. The visitor smiled and placed one hand lazily down onto the top of the table.

"What do you know about the Red Hood?" he asked innocently with a tilt of his lovely chin.

Tim ignored the fluttering in his stomach and furrowed his brows as the thought back to his time on the streets. But wait, wait...he shook his head...his intel was never for free, even for mysterious gorgeous men. "Why?" Tim retorted suspiciously.

"I have business with him that needs to be taken care of," the visitor replied vaguely. Tim rolled his eyes.

"And why would I help you? I have no reason to want the guy dead," Tim muttered indifferently.

His visitor arched a brow imperceptively. "Neither do I."

"So you're just trying to kill him for no reason?" Tim challenged with a smirk.

"Just doing my job," the man shrugged.

"Not very well if you need the help of an incarcerated teenager."

That made the visitor laugh and lean forward on his elbows to leer closer at Tim. "You're no ordinary teenager, though, now are you?" he smiled as Tim stiffened. "Just like Red Hood is no ordinary target and I'm no ordinary assassin. It's...complicated. Hood's no idiot, I need a tactical advantage."

"You want me to be your tool?"Tim grimaced, unimpressed.

"Oh, don't say it like that," his visitor pouted his lips.

"Sorry to disappoint," Tim replied dryly. "But even if I wanted to help you, my knowledge of the Red Hood is limited." His visitor pulled back with a hard look on his face and Tim never wavered despite the ferocious glare. "Like you said, he's not an idiot. He's not an easy one to just follow around." The visitor grunted, unable to deny it from his own experience, Tim guessed.

"Neither was Batman," he finally retorted, making Tim jolt.

"How did you- that information was sealed-"

"I didn't do it legally, obviously," the man rolled his eyes. "I've read your...hidden record and I know all about you. I know you followed him around for years when you first started out. I know you know who he is, I know you know everything about him. I know that when it got out that you knew and every criminal in Gotham started hunting you down, you and Batman had an agreement to place you in here for your own safety. And his too, I guess. I'd want to keep you hidden away too if you knew all my dirty secrets. I don't know how you two figured Arkham is the safest place for you, but-"

"Because as dirty and overrun with criminals as it is, this is the tightest security facility in the country. I'm in solitary for a reason. Not even youwould have gotten to me without paying the warden off. Or killing him."

"How do you know I won't just kill you now that I have you?"

"Because you need me," Tim replied, squaring his shoulders intently.

"Not if you can't give me the information I need," the man stood, unsheathing a silver dagger and twisting it dangerously in his hand.

Tim's heart began to hammer in his chest. "Just because I don't have it doesn't mean I can't get it," he snapped, unable to back away because of the handcuffs keeping him in place. The visitor paused and tilted his lovely head with a thoughtful expression.

"Is that an offer?" he smirked dangerously.

"No. It's just a fact," Tim retorted. "Whether or not I'll do it for you depends on the price you're willing to pay."

"I don't think you're in a position to negotiate, darling," the man reminded, pressing the point of the dagger against Tim's shoulder lightly.

Tim shivered but remained stoic. "Oh, but I am. If you kill me, you have nothing. You could always find another sap to go undercover for you, I'm sure, but none of them are as good as me and you know it." The man narrowed his eyes but otherwise remained silent and still with his dagger never moving from Tim's skin. "So...what'll it be?

"Name your price," the man murmured poisonously soft.

"Leverage," Tim smirked underneath the blade.

"Leverage?" the man repeated questioningly.

"Yes. Tactical advantage is a precious thing. I don't mind getting my hands dirty, but I need more than just your word for protection," Tim narrowed his eyes mysteriously.

"Meaning?" the man challenged with a sneer.

You want my services for information on someone else, the price is that I get all the information on you." Tim would have crossed his arms if he could. Damn the shackles.

"What?"

"You heard me."

The visitor was dead silent, staring intently down at him. Tim could see his wrist twitch and his dangerous yellow eyes flash as he processed the terms inside his head. "You...want to be able to blackmail me in case I double cross you?"

"Not necessarily. Well...yes, but not entirely," Tim amended, humming thoughtfully. "It's also in case you kill me, in which case they'll find documented records of your existence and know exactly who you are, who you work for and where to find you. It's also because I am genuinely interested in each and every one of my clients. I just enjoy the knowledge," he smirked, lacing his fingers together while his shackles clanked together.

"You wouldn't be allowed to live if I told you," the man warned, the dagger gleamed at his side as if to emphasize. "The people I work for...they'll have me kill you, and it won't be quick. I'll have to torture you until you tell me where your documents are and have them all taken and destroyed."

"I can handle myself. After the job, you'll never see me again. But...You can always say no and the whole thing can be avoided. I'm not changing the terms," Tim responded firmly, though not un-politely. "You just need to figure out how badly you want the Red Hood."

"Fine," the visitor snapped back without hesitation. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Where do you want me to start?"

"For now?" Tim eyed the big metal door as the guard's voice murmured to another outside. "Let's start with just your name. The rest will come later after you get me out of here."

The visitor snorted softly and rolled his eyes before grabbing the chain-lined cuffs and ripping them apart easily to free Tim's hands. "I'm called Talon."

Tim stared in shock at the shattered metal. This man was powerful. "Cut the crap. I want your real name," Tim demanded, standing and rubbing his naked wrists in awe.

Talon exhaled sharply in annoyance as he shoved the black locks of hair out of his face. "My name is Dick. Dick Grayson."

"Dick Grayson," Tim repeated, tilting his head as the words shaped themselves like liquid and left his lips. "Well, Dick Grayson, it's nice to meet you," he extended his small hand, which Dick took and shook stiffly. "Now. Are you going to get me out of here or what?" Dick's yellow eyes glittered dangerously as he smiled, drawing his dual swords just as the door opened to the guard snapping "Time's up!"