Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks very much for reading, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

What They Know

When Bane didn't automatically respond to his half joking, half serious remark about why they were currently dating, Blake actually went a little quiet and still himself. He actually felt a current of electricity run up his spine as it straightened, Bane's response to his comment suddenly becoming very important since Bane was apparently taking it seriously enough to have gone silent. Either that or the line had disconnected somehow, Blake realized, though you'd think he'd hear the dial tone if that was the case. Still…maybe he should say something just to double check and make sure that Bane actually was there, especially since he really would have to head into the courtroom in mere minutes and time could be of the essence here if they were going to have a serious conversation.

"Bane?"

"I didn't call you about sex." The teenager's tone was gruff , with layers to it that Blake couldn't analyze properly over the phone which was really, really annoying.

Wanting to ask why Bane had stayed quiet for so long but forcing himself not to, Blake asked Bane why he was calling instead.

"Are you involved with the Miranda Murders now?"

Eyes widening in surprise, that was not a question he'd expected the teen to even know to ask him, Blake was even more off-guard because he'd officially been added to the task force only that day. If Bane had only asked him this question the day before he would have been able to say that he was barely involved with it at all, and it would have been the truth. Now, however…

"I've been attached to the case, yes. Though as an officer that doesn't mean a heck of a lot." Which was the truth, even if he was going to be a detective soon enough. "Why do you ask? And how would you even know about that?"

"I saw you on the news."

"Oh." Well that made sense. "How'd I look?"

The sound of exasperation that came over the line had Blake's lips twitching in amusement in spite of himself.

"What's important here is that you are getting mixed up in a very dangerous case. The woman you're after has killed men that could very easily have ended your life when they were alive, Robin. This case will be extremely dangerous for you, especially as you are not stupid or lazy like the majority of your kind. And you won't give up until you find her."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Sorta." And while he wanted to believe that Bane was just concerned about his wellbeing, which wouldn't be completely unfounded since Bane's adoptive sister really was a psychotic bitch that any reasonably sane person would treat with caution, Blake couldn't ignore the very real possibility that Bane was aware of who Miranda really was and was calling to feel him out. Which he wasn't about to let the boy do, obviously.

"You need to be very careful, Robin."

"Having seen what she leaves behind I'm aware of that. But thanks for worrying."

"I'm not worried." To Blake's ears it sounded like Bane was trying to convince himself of that fact. "I simply know that you're the sort who doesn't think before he leaps. And I'd rather you not be dead."

"True. I still have a lot to teach you." Blake deliberately put a sexual bent to his words, hoping to change the subject to something they could talk about. Of course only then did it occur to him that he was supposed to be mad at the little shit for basically ignoring and avoiding him all week. Dammit. Though really, that was what he got for dating a teenager, God help him.

"Robin, this is no time to be talking about sex."

"Why not? It's a great deal more fun to talk about than men being mutilated and murdered. Or we could talk about what a childish ass you've been this week, if you'd rather. Actually scratch that, I don't have enough time to get into that before I have to hang up on you. So if the case is all you want to talk about I'll say goodbye for now and we can talk later."

"I am being neither an ass nor childish."

"As someone who grew up in foster care and then a boy's home…I know when someone is being a childish ass. You're being both. And I'd be calling you worse, but there's a woman old enough to be my grandmother sitting across from me now who's bored enough to eavesdrop." Blake smiled politely at the woman in question, who gave him a rather leering look that had Blake rather glad Bane hadn't let him stay on the subject of sex. Awkward.

"Has it occurred to you that your insistence in treating me like a child might be a reason I haven't called?"

Numerous responses to that occurring to Blake, including the fact that the amount of sex they'd had said otherwise unless Bane was accusing him of being a pedophile, but Blake buttoned up the sarcasm since he was the mature one in this relationship, God help both of them now.

"I have to head in, recess is over. If I call you tonight are you going to answer?"

"Come to my place for the night."

That the first thought that came to mind was that Bane might mean to eliminate him from the Miranda task force, as Bane believed him to be better at his job than the rest, was painful. Really painful. Enough that Blake couldn't answer right away, the weight suddenly on his chest seizing him up.

"Robin? Are you alright?"

"No. No I'm…fine. Yeah. I'll stop by tonight."

A pause. "Let me know when you're coming."

"Will do. And I have to go now, see you tonight then."

Blake hardly heard Bane say the same before hanging up, Blake ended the call on his end automatically. And sliding the device back into his pocket Blake just sat there for a minute or two until his name was called, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Time for court. He needed to get his head back in the game.

)

New, idealistic public defenders were some of the most annoying lawyers Blake had ever had the displeasure of going up against in the court of law. No matter how many times he told himself that they really were just trying to make sure that their clients were properly defended, Blake often found himself wanting to shake the green off of them and make them see that they weren't doing themselves or their clients any good playing the blame it on society card. Yes one's life played a significant part in how one turned out, life shaped you whether you wanted to be shaped that way or not, but it could only be used as an excuse up until a point. After that how you lived your life was on you.

Dragging a trial on for weeks by trying to use every trick in the law book, and when that didn't work trying to blame the victims and everyone else on the prosecutor's list, just made Blake hate this particular lawyer that much more.

All the bullshit had bogged things down to the point where it was nearly lunch time when Blake was finally allowed to leave after having given his testimony. He had a pounding headache, a renewed hatred for lawyers, and a definite need for a nap though food should have been on the menu instead. He wasn't in the mood for food though, his stomach quite turned.

Thankfully he was pretty sure the jury all hated the lawyer as much as much as he did at this point, and that would condemn the client no matter what said lawyer tried to twist or get thrown out.

"You okay, Kid?"

Finding some irony in his own faint annoyance at being referred to that way, not that he'd stop where Bane was concerned any time soon, Blake turned around to give the detective a wry smile. "New public defender from hell. Beware the name Langdale."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"You're welcome."

Sharing a look of complete understanding Blake returned the cop's short wave and then continued on his way, forcing himself to remember that now that he didn't have to concentrate on the trial he'd just left, he needed to focus on the Miranda Murders. Or more to the point, the fact that the little bitch had tripped up a little the night before thanks to Gordon being one step ahead of her.

Without telling anyone what he was planning, Gordon had arranged to put extra cameras in the vicinity of St. Catherine's where logically speaking there was no need for them normally. Ergo no one would think to look and try to avoid those cameras because they were concealed and in very random places.

It was two of those 'random' cameras that had caught Talia Ducard slipping out of the juvenile hall and leaving the premise for an unknown destination on foot last night. That a little over an hour later Miranda had brutally tortured and murdered a man after weeks of inactivity was not something that anyone was overlooking now. Or at least those in the know, which Blake was now one of.

Naturally they were now seeking to find whatever mode of transportation she'd taken to get to her old stomping grounds, but they had decided not to flash her picture to try to find possible witnesses because as soon as they did that, it would get back to Bane. And once Bane knew that they were looking in Talia's direction she'd be out of both the city and the country before nightfall in Gordon's opinion.

Gordon had asked him point blank if he thought Bane was capable of assisting his sister in these murders that morning while they were looking over the video footage. The commissioner had suggested, as kindly as possible, that perhaps Bane might be the answer as to how Talia was able to eliminate men whose physicality and violent natures should have made them formidable opponents. And in all honesty Blake had answered that he could see Bane being complacent and an accessory after the fact, but the murders themselves…no. He didn't think she was sharing any part of hunting her kills with her brother, she had too much pride for that. They wouldn't truly be hers, after all, if she had to ask for help from anyone.

Thankfully Gordon had agreed with him on that point, and had said nothing about trying to use Blake as an informant through Bane. He wouldn't have agreed to let himself be used that way, and Blake hoped that Gordon was smart enough to realize that instead of just bidding his time there.

But the fact remained that he wouldn't be surprised to learn that Bane knew Talia was going around killing people…and he was still dating the teenager.

"To paraphrase Ron Weasley…I need to get my priorities straight."

What he didn't know about Bane couldn't hurt the boy, but it could most certainly hurt him. It could ruin him actually, and not just his career. Because Blake took pride in the fact that he was loyal by nature, and it wasn't in him to betray the confidence of someone he cared deeply for. And that was unfortunately the case where Bane was concerned. People had used and abused that boy all his life, and Blake felt physically ill at the idea of joining those ranks.

And while he'd be able to tell Bane in all honesty that he'd never intended or had used Bane to ultimately put the teenager's sister behind bars, and had told him for that matter…that was going to be a cool comfort for either of them in the hopefully near future. Not even the fact that he'd told Bane straight off the bat that he intended to see Talia put away would change what was and how Bane would feel towards him regardless of his previous cavalier response to the idea of Blake arresting her someday.

Breaking up with Bane now would be the obvious answer, severing those ties before things got even stickier between them. That he didn't want to break up with Bane wasn't the issue here, he was a man who was used to doing what had to be done even if it hurt him. Even if it deprived him of something he both wanted and needed. That he'd decided before that he was going to fight to keep Bane would be meaningless if Bane didn't want to be kept, which the teenager wouldn't if he had a part to play in Talia's downfall even though he was a cop for fuck sakes, and that was his sworn duty. Barsad would get Bane through the breakup and Talia's incarceration, he was sure of that, but still…Blake wished he could talk this over with someone who knew all the players but was separate enough to give an unbiased opinion.

Though basically, in a word, they were all fucked.

)

Blake was that much more convinced that he was royally screwed by the time he headed out to take the bus to Bane's place. Or as close as the bus got to that neighborhood, anyway. And as much as he wasn't looking forward to going to Bane's tonight and having to pretend that he wasn't a mental mess at the moment, it was the pain that had most of his attention for the moment. His left eye was throbbing, the ice pack he was a pressing against the very colorful bruising he was sporting there immediately becoming that much colder thanks to the fact that it was fucking cold out as he exited the building for the night. He probably didn't need the ice at all while he waited for the next bus to come, Blake reasoned with a small shake of his head, still absolutely disgusted with himself for making such a rookie mistake earlier. He knew better than to let his personal life leak into his work. Knew that that was a pretty good way to end up dead given his career and the city he worked in. Sure it had just been a fist in the eye this time…but it could have just as easily been a knife to the head and then he wouldn't have had to worry about Bane because he'd have been very dead.

Of course Bane was going to jump all over him about the black eye, throw it in his face as proof that he wasn't strong or skilled enough to survive on the streets of Gotham without Bane around to babysit him. Which would only make him that much angrier, and before they knew it they'd break up and that would be that.

"What did you do to yourself now?"

Recognizing the voice Blake turned to see Barsad standing a slight distance away, the teenager's arms crossed and a hit of a smirk on the boy's face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bane asked me to pick you up." Barsad pointed behind him as he stated that the vehicle was that way before asking again about the eye, coming closer now to get a better look.

"Mugger who didn't want to give up his day's cache."

The mugger hadn't even been his to begin with, he'd seen two officers puffing away in an obviously futile attempt to catch the fleet footed thief after finishing an interview related to one of his own cases. He'd given chase himself because it was just embarrassing the way the smug bastard had been hooting and hollering over his easy escape, and it had been the principle of the point. He'd taken the smug bastard down good, too, but had lost some skin on his hands and torn his pants a little at the knee doing it. And it was while he was cursing both those facts because he knew Bane would use those tiny wounds against him in his 'You aren't tough enough to catch real criminals' speech that the mugger had up and punched him, thus giving him an even bigger mark for Bane to call him on.

Fucking Murphy's Law.

The sound Barsad made clearly expressed the opinion that he thought Blake was as weak as Bane seemed to think he was, but at least the teen didn't say so. Instead Barsad just turned around and started walking, motioning for Blake to follow after him which was annoying. But choosing to be the better man Blake didn't comment, reminding himself that riding in a warm car would be light years better than dealing with the bus instead.

Especially since this way there's be less people asking him about his eye, which was one of the worse parts about having a black eye in Blake's books.

Recognizing the car in question on sight, it was the one Bane had given him a lift in before, Blake walked over to it and got in once Barsad undid the lock, thinking only when he was in the process of buckling himself in that he'd just gotten into a vehicle with a notorious gang member without a second thought. And yeah Barsad probably wasn't going to kill him and shove him into a sewer or garbage bin to dispose of his body later…but still…

"Any other wounds to worry about?"

"And you would care about that because…?"

"He cares."

Well that shut Blake up. Well not really, no, because he had to answer Barsad's question now, but the way the teen had said that Bane cared made all the smartass lines Blake had been coming up with to throw at Bane when his boyfriend saw the road rash and black eye…they suddenly seem very childish and assehole in nature to him.

"You just can't stop injuring yourself, can you?"

"These aren't exactly self-inflicted, you know. I was doing my job. And I've had worse than this playing basketball for fuck sakes." Placing the ice pack back over his eye Blake glared at Barsad with the good one.

"You play round ball?"

"I've been known to. Why?"

A shrug. "If you're still around come spring, we'll have to try some one on one."

Gaping in shock at Barsad, Blake didn't know what the hell to say to that. Or all it implied.