After a few seconds of processing what she sees in front of her, Barbara's shocked expression transforms quickly into one of disgust, punctuated by a guttural groan. She flicks her glance to her partner, whose own changed look makes her roll her eyes back to their starting position: the bent over backside of the woman only now becoming aware of their presence.
The woman begins to straighten upright, every movement methodical, as if to prove that she is not in any way intimidated by the two individuals who just burst in on her. She tosses her long hair over her shoulder nonchalantly and shifts her legs, the black material around her thighs so tight it would be more appropriate to call it a second skin than a skirt. For someone less observant, they would think this woman was blessed with the most perfect head of natural ginger hair; for Barbara, though, all she sees is the unnatural, overly silky texture of a wig.
"Really?" Barbara begins, only now noticing the still-enamored, glazy eyed room attendant sitting in the seat beneath where the woman was leaning over. A bow tie hangs limp and undone around his bare neck, the top several buttons of his shirt undone. "Couldn't control yourself for even one day, Selina?"
"Wow, Ms. Gordon," Selina purrs as she slinks toward them, twirling a long strand of pearls around her finger. "It never does cease to surprise me just how competent Bruce's minions are."
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Dick retorts, once again focused after his brief foray into gawking. As he crosses his arms over his chest, forcing his crisp black shirt to tighten around his muscles, Barbara has the quick side thought that maybe – just maybe – she had been a little hard on him for staring a few moments ago. "I highly doubt you were invited since that would be just kind of, um…awkward."
"I'm sure it would be," Selina states brusquely, snapping her fingers at the boy-man behind her, clearly getting impatient with his slow recovery, "if I was anything more than a wealthy long lost cousin who simply required an invite." Ushering the man past Barbara and Dick and out the door, she pivots on her stilettos to face them. "But I'm not, now am I?"
"A wealthy long lost cousin who requires a five finger discount," Barbara mocks in an affected tone, squinting her eyes, intensifying the standoff between the real redhead and the fake one.
Dick is just about to make a comment about how catty women can be (and give a slight, internal laugh at his unintentional pun) when a muffled crash echoes through the empty hallway. Barbara's eyes have widened by the time they meet Dick's, both of them rung back into the reality of their mission by the clang.
"Damian."
A slight bit of fear, a tad of scolding, and a whole lot of worry emits from Barbara's voice as she speaks that single word, already a few steps away from the door and down the hall by the time the last syllable is spoken.
Dick takes one last look at a surprisingly concerned looking Selina before taking off after Barbara.
"Try not to steal everything on your way out the door," he shouts, his voice trailing off as he progresses down the cavernous hall.
By the time Dick catches up to Barbara, she has rounded the corner and is standing with her hands on her hips, switching her head back and forth between two parallel doors.
"So what do we –"
"Shh," Barbara whispers, raising her finger to her lips. "Do you hear that?"
It was as if her words flipped some sort of switch in Dick's ears because as soon as all was quiet again, the slight murmurs and giggles became very obvious to him. But something immediately seemed odd to him, and he now realized the cause of Barbara's pause.
"Why does it sound like it's coming from both sides of the hall?"
"And what are people doing in these rooms anyway? These are private quarters, right?"
Dick could tell by the terse but not tense pitch to Barbara's voice that she was more irritated than worried, which made his own pulse slow. And once he relaxed a little, he quickly found the humor in the most likely scenarios going on inside the rooms.
"Come on, Babs," he jests with a cheeky grin, jabbing her lightly in the ribs with his elbow. "You know what they're doing. Like you said, not everyone is scared of weddings. Some people are even turned-"
"Ugh." Smacking his arm away, she takes a single stomp toward the door to the right of her. "With all the security Bruce always has you would think…" she mutters under her breath as she reaches for the slender golden door handle. "I'll check out this one. You take that one."
Two of the things Dick always loved about Barbara is her stubbornness and brazenness…and they also happen to be two of the things that annoy him the most about her. Thinking that he must really and honestly be his father's son because he's a glutton for punishment, he thrusts open the door, surprised at first that it actually turned and was not locked…
…and then exponentially more surprised at whom he finds on the other side.
Blond hair cascades down, far enough to practically cover the large, rugged hand anchored to her lower back. Her neck is arched, causing her chest to heave upward and almost out of her low-cut black leather dress and allowing the burly man with the combed back salt and pepper hair access to her neck, which he appears to be taking full advantage of.
"That's about enough of that." Within seconds, there is a slamming of a door so powerful that it seems to shake the walls. "How dare she lecture me? Pulitzer or not, I could kick her and her slouchy, wimpy boyfriend's asses if I wanted to!"
Barbara's shrieks seem to finally alert the busy couple that they have an audience, since it is only then that the blond forcibly pushes the older gentleman away from her. The color drains out of her face as she takes in who exactly comprises that audience.
"Dick," she squeaks, tugging at the leather dress that had risen up her black fishnet-covered legs. "This is not what it looks like at all."
"I'm not here to judge, Di," Dick replies, lifting his hands defensively in front of him and tilting his head to the side incredulously. "But we all know that this is exactly what it looks like."
"Oh my God!" Barbara groans as she joins the party from the other side of the hall. "Seriously? It's like a damn frat party in this house!"
"Well, Grandpa," Dick interjects, ignoring Barbara and instead completely occupied with glowering at the man inside the room, "it's good to know that even after hundreds of years you can still enjoy the simpler things in life."
"You arrogant, infantile-"
"Come on," Barbara interrupts, pulling Dick away from the door and away from what would surely become the exact type of fight everyone feared would happen at this wedding. "We still have to figure out where Damian is."
"What about Damian?" The man tries to hide his concern behind a regal step and cadence but a slight worrisome tone still manages to break through. "What has happened to him?"
"It is none of your business," Barbara barks. "Now, why don't you get back to your own business." With a thrust of her chin and a disapproving shake of her head at a friend she would have expected more of, she disappears into the shadows.
Once again alone, the two of them walk on in silence, interrupted only by the occasional sigh or squeal of an old door reluctantly opening and closing. Excitement and adrenaline has weaned away to desperation and anxiety, as Dick repeatedly checks his phone for any word from his brothers and Barbara searches rooms more haphazardly and with increasingly less expectation.
"At least we haven't heard any bad news from Tim and Jason yet either," Dick offers. "If Damian had done anything stupid, I would have been the first to hear about it."
"Maybe we're being too hard on him," Barbara wonders, taking the tiny glimmer of optimism her partner just presented and running with it. "Bruce did just buy this building a month ago. Maybe he's just exploring. Weddings don't exactly intrigue any twelve year old boy. Plus, I remember when I was new to the Wayne manor – all I did was wander around."
"Yeah, maybe you're right, especially with all the new construction still going on, but still –"
Barbara stops in her tracks, her face filtering through several different expressions until it settles on one of absolute insight. A smile slowly works her lips.
"I think I know where Damian is!" Not waiting for Dick, she runs back the way they came, retracing their steps until she reaches the grand dining room.
To be concluded…