The thieves were fast, as evidenced by the fact that they had already bypassed the coded entry on the back door and dispatched the few guards in their way. The first few dozen meters of hallway were pitch black, forcing Batman to pause to let his eyes readjust once they reached a lighted corridor. He bent down and whispered into his partner's ear. "You go right. The room they need is on this level, but all the blueprints I was able to find only show the exterior structure, so I don't know exactly where they headed." It was typical, he thought as he turned left and had to step over an unconscious guard; people always assumed that enough walls and panic alarms would be sufficient, and never thought about the quality of people that they hired to man those defenses. It was really a miracle that crimes of this sort didn't occur more frequently.

Once he knew Batman was out of sight, Robin doubled over again, clutching his stomach. He didn't have time to stop – even now their quarry might be past the computer security systems, if the quick work they'd done on the door was any clue as to how well planned this raid had been – but his body didn't give him a choice. Several seconds ticked by before he was able to continue in the direction Batman had ordered him to go. His legs propelled him forward, but he stayed bent, his figure held at a ninety degree angle as if he intended to head butt anyone he encountered. When he reached the corner he stilled again, glancing into the next section and trying to catch his breath without panting. It was no use. They hadn't even engaged the enemy yet and he was already out of air, in pain, and exhausted; the realization made him want to sob at his own ineffectiveness.

He had to get up. He could imagine just as well as Batman what would happen on the streets of Gotham if the Pezzolis had access to the kind of massive bankroll they were trying to obtain, and it would be very, very ugly. Steeling himself with his determination to not let Batman down tonight, he ignored the fact that it felt like he was tearing himself in half and forced himself to stand erect, plastering his back against the wall and holding there to recover. A few seconds later, focusing on breathing deeply and on his resolve to be at his partner's side when these crooks went down, he started along the next passageway.

The route curved back towards the middle of the building, and it was as he rounded a bend that he found what he was looking for. An open door and low murmurs cued him that the work was still in progress. They hadn't left anyone outside the room to watch their backs, no doubt believing that they would be home free once they were past the guards. Sneaking up until he was just outside the square of brightness falling into the dim hall, he listened, trying to figure out how many he had to tackle.

"These codes aren't working," a deep, angry voice rolled.

"They should," another male insisted. He sounded scared, and Robin wondered if the thieves had taken a prisoner. "They change them at three a.m. It's only just after two now, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Well, they aren't working."

"Fuck!" a third person, this one sounding like a woman, swore. The eavesdropping teen flinched, his mind automatically imagining what Alfred's response would be if such an expletive were to come from his lips.

"…Corbin." A third masculine tone spoke the single word.

"What?" the first man snapped back, fingers pounding a keyboard in rage as password after password failed.

"This calendar says it's Daylight Savings Time today."

The clatter of abused keys stopped at that.

"…So what's that got to do with anything?" the woman demanded.

"Motherfucker," Corbin growled. "Motherfucker!" Robin slid a few inches away from the door as something was overturned in the room. "Daylight Savings Time? How did we miss that?"

"Oh, Jesus, don't kill me." Now Robin was certain that one of the men was being held against his will.

"I still don't get why it matters," said the female.

"Daylight Savings Time occurs twice a year," the last male voice, still as calm as when it had first spoken, explained. "Once in fall, and again in spring. In fall, the clocks are set back one hour. In the spring – today, in fact – they are moved forward one hour. Unfortunately, this change officially occurs at 2 AM."

"Okay, so…?" Wow, she is really not all that bright, Robin thought, one hand crawling over his stomach unbidden in order to cup the area of his torso that hurt the worst.

"We came in at 2 AM because the daily codes are changed in the system at 3 AM. But the computers recognized the time change, moved their clocks forward, and then automatically initiated the code switch. By the time we got in the door, it was already too late. The codes we have are no good; so far as the computer cares, it's tomorrow."

"…Are you shitting me?" she asked.

"No. I'm not."

"Please, please don't kill me, I didn't know…"

"Shut up!" the woman barked. "Corbin, what do we-"

"Tie that asshole up," he replied. The sounds of struggle and more begging reached Robin's ears as the hostage was bound. "You're going to explain this whole thing to Mr. Pezzoli. Maybe that way he'll at least let us live. You, though, I don't think he's going to be so kind to you, especially once you explain why he isn't nine hundred million dollars richer than he was this morning."

The man this was addressed to groaned miserably. Robin thought about rushing in and getting things started, but Batman's voice in the back of his mind stopped him. Wait. Wait until the correct moment presents itself, and then strike.

His stomach clenched again, and he stomped his foot to distract himself from the searing agony. As the echo faded down the hall, he realized what he'd done. Well, he shrugged mentally, I guess sometimes you have to make your own correct moment.

As footsteps approached the door, he just hoped it wasn't the 'correct moment' for him to die.