CHAPTER 18 | DRIVE

JANUARY 3, 2039

9:00AM

Hank was uncharacteristically already at his desk when Barbara arrived at work. After a month away, it was a relief more than anything else. Now more than ever, she had mixed feelings about the trajectory of her career, but she was anxious to have some sort of structure back in her day-to-day life. It was foolish for her to believe things could ever be the same.

She'd never been away from work for so long, and was half-expecting the precinct to have changed completely in her absence. But everything was shockingly still in place, even down to the empty mug of coffee she'd forgotten on her desk, which had become a petri disk of blue-green mold. Her nose wrinkled. There was no chance she'd be willing to drink out of it again.

"Look who's back," Hank said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. She couldn't help but notice he looked like he'd aged backwards since the last time she saw him, his complexion seemed brighter, his smile reaching all the way to crease underneath his eyes. She made a mental note not to use alcohol as a coping mechanism should any more traumatic events befall her. But her less cynical side didn't hold back her smile in return. She was happy for him.

"How're you doing, kid?"

"Good," Barbara pulled her bag over her shoulder and slung it on the back of the desk, tipping the science experiment that once was her favorite mug into the trash can next to her desk, where it clattered unceremoniously to the bottom. Shimmying out of her coat, she finally sat down back in the chair. Her eyes were drawn to the empty desk next to her where Connor had once sat, recalled the way his thumb had brushed over her cheekbone weeks ago, until Hank's voice drew her back into the present.

"Happy to be back?" She was grateful for the distraction.

"Eh," Barbara shrugged. "I'll get back to you after I talk to Fowler."

"Well you came back just in time, I suspected James was trying to take your desk," Hank said. "I could only hold him off for so long."

Barbara scoffed. "I find it hard to believe anyone else in this office is interested to sit as close to you as I do."

Hank chuckled, and it was suddenly like no time had passed at all. Good. She always hated transitional periods. Having a schedule was where she could be comfortable, even if this line of work didn't always afford her predictability, she at least had a place to be everyday, and a thousand different ways to be distracted.

Logging in to her work computer, she was immediately bombarded with memos that Fowler had sent out of the past few weeks. Considering the population had shrunk significantly, crime rates had spiked. It was mostly petty theft, but she was surprised by the increase in more violent crimes...stabbings, robberies, even a handful of homicides.

Besides that were memos of new policies and procedures now that the androids working in the building were gone. Many had deviated, but even the ones that hadn't were still dismissed, and probably eventually would deviate anyways. After all, it wasn't like CyberLife could take them back. The company had shattered overnight, and their headquarters had been overtaken. She thought of Kamski in his mansion in the hills. Did he have any idea what he created could be capable of? And did he even care? Her mind drifted back to Connor and she shook the thought away.

Other memos referenced the possibility negotiations between the government and the androids. Like any type of government negotiations, they would be highly secured. Although to her, it seemed like that would be too high profile for anyone at the DPD to be involved in.

After combing through all the memos, catching up on emails, and bantering with Hank, Barbara wasn't really sure what to do. She hated the limbo of being between cases and after how things had ended on the deviant investigation, she wanted to make things right, but she had no idea what the future had in store for her.

"Martin!" she heard her name across the precinct. Fowler stood outside the glass box that was his office and waved her forward wordlessly.

"Great," she muttered under her breath and stood, smoothing her blouse before she trudged into what she expected would be an unpleasant meeting. Her last interaction with him was when he'd suspended her for six weeks and taken her gun and badge, and chewed her out for what felt like hours. Granted, she'd served her time since then, so she hoped the worst of it was over.

"Welcome back," Fowler said as she closed the door behind him, but his tone carried no warmth, and she mentally prepared herself for what was likely to come. "I have your gun and your badge," He handed her a tablet and she signed her name, and he placed the two items across from her.

"I trust you had time to reflect on everything that you did," he sat down behind his desk as Barbara shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Yes," she answered. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes, though some deeper part of her felt like she was back in the high school principals office being reprimanded after getting caught skipping class to smoke weed with seniors in the courtyard, a little embarrassed and ashamed for getting caught. She had never cared for authority, which made her career choice ironic, but Fowler had a way of making her actually feel remorse when she knew she'd fucked up. And she had, technically, but she still didn't regret it.

"Good," he said. "Because I've got a new case for you."

She blinked, straightening up. No rundown of the current state of the nation? of the city that they were supposed to keep order of? Just jumping right into business. Typical Fowler.

"Already?" Her heart drummed faster for a moment.

"Listen, I'm sure you've been reading the papers, and if you haven't read all my memos from the past week that should be your top priority." he said. "We've got almost all our feet on the ground patrolling the city, trying to keep things under control."

"I trust that you'll educate yourself on what's going on if you haven't already, but that's not where we need you right now." Fowler slid a file across the table to her. "Jessica Wilson. 37 years old. Stabbed several times in the abdomen, her body was discarded behind a warehouse just across from Belle Isle. As of right now there are no leads."

"Wait," Barbara said, eyeing the documents hesitantly. "You're putting me back in homicides?"

"For now," he said flatly.

"But I thought we said-"

"Martin, I'm not going to listen to whining right now," he cut her off. "When have we ever had the workforce for anyone to do exactly what they wanted? We haven't. And we definitely don't right now."

"I'm not whine-"

"Then it shouldn't be a problem, should it?" he asked. "I've made more than enough exceptions for you. And right now, you sure as hell don't get to be picky. I've got enough on my plate."

Barbara was silent. While she wanted to refute, she knew she was already on thin ice. Plus, he was right, and she'd only be arguing just for the sake of it. Fowler narrowed his eyes at her. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

Barbara cast her eyes downward and shook her head no.

"Great," he said. "Then you know how to proceed. There's evidence in the locker downstairs, and you should probably go over the details with your partner."

"Partner?" her brows knit together in confusion, and she leaned forward and grasped the file, scanning the front of it.

Her heart dropped when she read the name alongside hers.

"No," she said out loud, before looking up again at Fowler. "Don't do this to me," she shook her head fervently.

"He was the first to arrive on the scene, I think he'll be valuable to you."

"So you're still punishing me?" she'd bit her tongue enough during the meeting, and now it was all going to pour over. "I already did what I had to do, I even wrote the stupid apology letter to him. This isn't fair."

Fowler didn't react, just turned around to dig through some paperwork behind him. Barbara realized she couldn't talk her way out of this. Maybe she was being a little dramatic, considering the circumstances. But this seemed unnecessarily cruel.

"Martin," he said stiffly. "That's enough. You're going to have to learn to get along. Now if you'll excuse me, I think we both have work to do."

Barbara opened up her mouth to respond, and then closed it, gnawing on her lower lip before standing abruptly and leaving his office. She wished she could have slammed the door behind her, as one final gesture to let Fowler know exactly how she felt, but it was automatic. Of course.

The evidence locker was an obvious place to start, but first she thought she'd take a pit stop to complain to Hank, first. She knew, all things considered, she should just be thankful to be back at work and getting a paycheck, when the rest of the citizens in the city were displaced and jobless, but she couldn't get the bitter taste out of her mouth.

But before she could make it back to her desk, she was intercepted by the last person she wanted to see, her new partner.

"Nice to see you back, Martin."

"Reed," she nodded curtly, knowing better than to give him any ammunition. The self-satisfied smirk on his face told her everything she needed to know, and while she made to slip past him and continue forward, he blocked her path and crossed his arms, standing tall over her.

"Fowler already gave you a brief of the case?" he asked, and she was surprised for a moment he didn't try to fit a jab in before jumping into business. If we can both be professional, maybe this won't be so bad.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm heading to the evidence locker now."

"And you haven't even read the report yet?" he asked. "Seems like you're jumping the gun a little."

Exactly.

"Yeah, well, unlike you, I can multitask," she said flatly, trying once again to brush past him, but he wouldn't let her.

"Hey," he interjected. "Don't be so touchy. I'm just offering some constructive criticism. I figured you'd need a little bit of guidance after so much time off."

Asshole. And to think there was a time she'd had a crush on him.

Barbara tried not to audibly sigh, but had to take a subtle breath to quell the fire rising up her neck. There was something about him that seemed to trigger her fight or flight response. Contrary to popular belief, Barbara didn't think of herself as particularly confrontational, but he did know how to push her buttons. It'd be better off not to give in and fight back.

"You're right. I appreciate the help."

She couldn't help but get a little joy from the brief look of disappointment that crumpled his cocky grin when she didn't take the bait. It was faint, but it gave her the impulse control to remain calm.

"Of course," he smiled, and if she didn't know him any better she wouldn't have seen the sinister look in his eyes. "I mean, now you're gonna have to do some actual police work, without that piece of plastic to teach you how things are done."

Barbara's stomach twisted, but she held her ground. She wasn't sure how far he was willing to push to get a reaction out of her, and she wasn't keen to find out. But she supposed she had no other choice. "Gavin," she feigned ignorance, widening her eyes and looking over her shoulder, before leaning forward, her voice a low whisper. "You should really be careful about the language you're using. You wouldn't want anyone to overhear and think you're on the wrong side of history or something."

Gavin just narrowed his eyes at her, seeming to give up on today's confrontation. She supposed Fowler had done this on purpose. The faster she could solve this case, the faster she could get moved to something else, and away from Reed. Barbara stepped forward, brushing his shoulder and forcing him to step out of the way so she could make her way to the evidence locker.

The mere mention of Connor, despite the derogatory terminology Gavin had used to refer to him, had Barbara's head spinning. It had been a few weeks since she'd last seen him, and they'd had no contact. It affirmed that she'd made the right decision. He hadn't reached out, and had moved on. From the bits Hank had told her, he'd gone to CyberLife to join Markus, and probably realized that whatever he felt for her was just confusion. She knew she was an insufficient thing. But for some reason, she still felt stuck.

Hey all, I hope you are doing well. The last time I was on here, things were very different. The past few months have been pretty eventful for me, and the entire world, I think. I'm wishing you all health and happiness during this insane time. I'm keeping busy by reading fics on here, so definitely send me recommendations for DBH or other fandoms if you have them.

Also, sidenote, I recently watched The Goldfinch, and I feel like Ansel Elgort looks more like Connor than Bryan Dechart does. Am I crazy? Someone else please tell me they see the resemblance.

Anyways, let me know what you think, as always. Sul sul!

TUMBLR (from-the-clouds)