Dick Grayson had a lot on his mind that particular Tuesday afternoon, which is why he later reasoned, he didn't immediately notice. His lead had partially panned out the night before, and with a little reconnaissance that evening-
He paused.
He had been currently waiting to check out at the grocery store only a block from his rundown apartment, and the lady in front of him-buying twelve jars of applesauce but who was he to question- had just finished paying and he had moved up. A general "good afternoon" was on the tip of his tongue when he internally did a double-take. And then a triple-take to be sure.
Because why in all the multiverse would Slade Willson be currently working as a cashier in Bludhaven. His eyes rose from the "Hello my name is" tag under the man's collar which only had a winky face in the space for the name, to his eyes, one blue and one glass.
"Good afternoon," he finally said, though it sounded more like a question than anything else. Apparently the other man agreed if the slight quirk of an eyebrow was any indication.
"Good afternoon, are you ready to check out, kid?" the tone was slightly mocking, or maybe he was imagining it- no he wasn't.
"Yeah, I-" he paused, closed his mouth then mentally tried to figure out what his life had come to that this was his Tuesday afternoon.
"It's fine kid, I know grocery stores can be intimidating places, no hurry." There was no mistaking the definitely mocking edge now, no matter how genuine the tone sounded at face value. Dick glared slightly in response, very much wishing he had self checked-out- wait no- what was the mercenary doing here?
"No, I'm ready," he replied slowly, "I was just surprised to see you here?"
Slade looked up from scanning his favorite sugary cereal (which he really wished he hadn't bought now) to meet his gaze.
"We all have jobs to do," he replied casually, making Dick furrow his eyebrows in response. Was that code for there's someone here I'm being paid to kill?
"I see, this isn't quite the lifestyle I thought you would enjoy?" He was fishing, it was blatant, unworthy of the detective he was trained by and to be. So sue him- he just wanted to be able to buy some delicious sugary cereal and crash after having not slept for more than a few hours since the Tuesday before.
Slade still appeared unimpressed, "No, I quite enjoy my job providing service to the good citizens of Bludhaven."
"Yeah!" Oh shoot, now the man who had just recently come to check out, standing behind him piped up. "Don't condescend the guy- not everyone gets adopted by some top-notch billionaire. Some of us actually work for a living!"
Dick wanted to scream. He turned to the man with a well practiced smile.
"You're quite right, it was not my intention to condescend. My...friend and I haven't met up in quite some time and I wasn't expecting to see him today."
Thankfully the man behind him now seemed appeased though Slade's good eye was gleaming in a way of barely concealed amusement.
"Thank you sir, it's quite alright though, my friend sometimes forgets himself." Slade, that arrogant- "But anyways, here's your bag and I'll see about dropping by sometime. It has been too long." Dick received his reusable grocery bag which was emblazoned with the Wonder Woman insignia (a gift from Jason), and with one last glance which he hoped conveyed his "I'm watching you" message, he left the store.
One underneath the shade of a birch a little up the road he pulled out his phone, pulling up the location of the tracker he had slipped on Slade's sleeve as he accepted his bag. Dang-still at the store. Well, once he left Nightwing would be waiting. That checked, he then looked himself -as well as his bag-over for any bugs. However, the only thing out of place was in his bag. Inside lay a small paper advertisement for the cashier's position at the store with the scribble "Don't knock it till you've tried it kid" on the back. He read it over, snorted, and tossed it into the garbage pail on the side of the road.
After the presumptuous man had left, Slade allowed himself to finally smirk. He had both completed his contract and watched Nightwing reach an interesting shade of pink. Not a bad day. The bug he had planted on the arrogant CEO's son (who Slade knew for a fact worked far less hard than a police officer) transmitted steadily, the audio live for the perusal by the company's competitor for the confidential meeting later that day. Reaching over to a cart being pushed by his soon to be deserted workstation, he removed the tracker Dick had left on his sleeve (really, did he think he wouldn't notice?) and stuck it beneath the cart.
Not a bad day at all.