Thank you all for your continued readership- I visited my traffic stats the other day and saw that all my stories, collectively, hit over 250 views in one day this past week! I hadn't even posted that day, I was super flattered by all the visits I was getting! So thank you all- it means a lot that my stories help you pass the time. I hope these chapters make your COVID-19 quarantine a little better.
To the guest reviewer of "What's In the Box?" – I mean, just in case people are reading Arkham fanfiction that have no idea about the history between Dick and Barb, I will not share any spoilers. What I will say is, I'm glad you're into their chemistry! And… keep reading…
As I drove back to WayneTech, I tried to recount everything I needed to do before my day could end. I needed to finish evidence analysis on the box and the suspects on the Black Mask case; I needed to save some of that work for Jason, who would arrive at the office around 4:00; I needed to return Dick's motorcycle to his place in Bludhaven, and make sure Dick didn't try to initiate any funny business; and I needed to get back to Wayne Manor to strategize next steps on Two-Face and Killer Croc in the evening.
My mind was fuzzy with sleep as I drove over the bridge into Gotham, which was probably a good thing. Occasionally, I'd hear a catcall or see a gawking male in my periphery. I felt my cheeks flush red with annoyance, anger, and embarrassment as I could feel my skirt creeping higher up my thighs, the thrum of the bike powerful beneath me. But I was too tired to say anything or confront the chauvinist jerks I passed by. I pulled into the Wayne Tech parking garage, scanning my security ID to gain access. I found a spot and carefully dismounted, ensuring there was no one around to see me as I lifted my leg over the bike. I hurried back to my office, having to take one elevator from the garage to the lobby, and another from the lobby back down to the dungeons that held my office.
I allowed myself one long, drawn out, exasperated yawn. Then I cracked back into my work.
I started in on profiling our Black Mask suspects. I feared that, if I gave Jason this responsibility when he came in the afternoon, he might take that information and go rogue as he previously had with the cops outside of the Oblivion Bar. Now that I oversaw his tutelage, I wouldn't be giving him any opportunities to be reckless. Researching our suspects didn't take long, but I took my time writing up their profiles to fill my afternoon.
Kyle Dixon. 38 year old male, Caucasian. Unique neck tattoos and a septum piercing. A natural brunette, but his mug shots showed a bleached blonde hair. His pale skin appears pasty and sickly, likely due to drug abuse. He's been arrested and convicted three times for possession: twice for cocaine, once for methamphetamines. The second time, he resisted arrest and earned himself a higher sentence. But each sentence has been cut short by Dixon's affinity to work with prison administration and rat out fellow prisoners for trafficking, racketeering, and possession of contraband.
Andre Simpson. 42 year old male, Black. Shaved head, a seemingly intentional choice to combat a receding hairline. Incredibly fit and strong, with the 6'5" frame of a linebacker. Arrested once when police busted a big sale. Comparing profiles with others of Black Mask's men that were arrested at the same time for the same purpose, Andre's sentence was twelve years longer than those of his white counterparts. I had a hard time believing that was due to anything other than the prejudices of the judge and the color of his skin.
Alexander Neill. Pictures show him as a well-dressed man with well-groomed and styled black hair. A longtime known associate of Black Mask, but nothing's ever been solidly pinned on him. He'd been investigated for racketeering, drug dealing, human trafficking, sex trafficking, organized crime, extortion, and fraud- but no convictions. He had a confident smile, one that showed he believed he was above the law and an exception to the rules.
Three suspects, all clear ties to either Black Mask or to his activities. Neill looked to be a harder one to catch but, at the end of the day, that's why Batman was created. Dixon looked like a wild card- someone that might do whatever needed to feed his drug habit. Simpson, however, might be someone better suited to a Batgirl visit. As someone profiled by the police and not saved from his prison sentence by Black Mask (even during the Blackgate riots), he may be less of an ally to Black Mask and more of a free agent.
After processing the profiles and saving my notes in the file to share with Bruce this evening, it was 3:30. Jason would be arriving sometime in the next thirty minutes. I grabbed my purse and hurried up to the lobby of the building, deciding I'd indulge in a cup of coffee. The small coffee cart in the lobby only had a short line of employees bracing for a long night. I got in line and checked my phone.
On my way, Jason had texted at 3:12. From Gotham Academy, the bus would probably take him about 30 minutes. He'd be here soon.
I bought two large coffees, only putting creamer in mine as I remembered Jason preferred his coffee black. I sat at one of the small café tables and took a long, drawn out sip of my coffee. I honestly didn't want the beverage, I wasn't craving the taste- but I needed the energy. As I watched out the glass front of the building at the bus stop, I reminisced over all the coffees Dick had made me- they always tasted better somehow. Maybe I was beginning to associate the taste of the hot beverage with his surprise visits.
"Hi," a cautious voice caught my attention from the direction of the elevators. It was Daniel, the man I'd accidentally run into at lunch, the one who stammered a lot and wore the blue bow tie.
"Hi, Daniel," I sat up. I realized that I did not have the energy for this conversation, but I tried to smile regardless.
"Yeah, Barbara," he said, almost as a sort of brag that he'd remembered my name as well. I nodded encouragingly, even though he seemed like kind of an idiot. "You're, uh, you're still… who's the other coffee… you still, um, working?" he stammered. I wasn't sure which line of questions to follow.
"Yeah, I'm working late tonight," I confirmed, and left it at that. His eyes bounced between me and the other coffee cup that sat waiting on the table beside me.
"Yeah, so… you're um…" he stammered again. His discomfort was beginning to make me feel antsy.
"I'm just taking a break, waiting for my… intern to show up," I explained. He nodded, looked to the coffee cup, then nodded more excitedly.
"Oh, gotcha! Intern, yeah, intern… what do you do again?" he asked with a nervous laugh. I tried to suppress a laugh of my own.
"I'm in product development," I answered, though quickly wanted to take the focus off myself. "And, I'm so sorry, I didn't ask you what you do."
"Oh, yeah, I'm in IT. Cybersecurity, to be more specific," he explained. I nodded kindly, feigning more interest than I felt. I felt pretty certain that, at the end of the day, I was a better hacker than he was a cyber defender.
"Cool," I finally answered after he neglected to say anything else for a while. I kept glancing towards the front windows, looking for Jason.
"Yeah, it's yeah," he answered, fidgeting with the briefcase in his hand. "Nice of you to get your intern a coffee… you're a lot nicer than most in my department."
"Oh, it's nothing. I needed one anyways," I politely shrugged off the compliment.
"Yeah, I'm sure… do you usually stay so late?" he asked.
"Uh… sometimes… I guess," I stammered awkwardly. I squinted my eyes and forced a smile to show I didn't really know how to respond. He shook his head and laughed to himself.
"Sorry, I'm… I uh…" he stammered now, looking out of the glass front of the building where people in suits and ties hurried out to catch their buses and trains home, "I'm not very good at making small talk." I shifted my gaze nervously, wondering why he decided to attempt small talk with me. His eyes came down to meet mine again and I tried to smile in a friendly, forgiving way. "I'm, um… I was thinking…"
"Barbara," Jason's voice made the man jump a few inches back, as if he were caught trying touch an artifact in a museum. His hands clenched his briefcase in front of his chest and his eyes jolted open in a panic. Jason hurried to my table and stood in front of me, looking a bit dubiously at Daniel. "You ready to hit your office?" I offered him the coffee I'd gotten for him and he eagerly guzzled some of it down as Daniel looked, a bit stunned, between the two of us.
"Is… this is your intern?" Daniel asked. Jason grew suddenly self-conscious and stopped drinking the coffee, staring down the stranger in our midst.
"Yeah," I answered, standing beside Jason. "Gotham Academy's got a killer curriculum. I'll talk to you later, Daniel. Have a good night." I hurriedly ushered Jason towards the elevators and hit the button to take us to my floor in the basements.
"Who was that?" Jason asked with a sidelong glance.
"Some guy that works in IT. Ran into him earlier. He's incredibly…" I hesitated, looking for the word.
"Handsome?" Jason asked with a smirk. I raised my eyebrows at him.
"I was going to say 'awkward,' but good to know where you stand," I nodded. "I can set you two up for coffee, if you'd like." We turned to each other, unsure if we were glaring at each other or smiling. His lips began to crack a smile first and we both laughed.
"Good to know lack of sleep doesn't make you grumpy," Jason smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Not today, at least," I responded as the elevator doors opened. I led him through the shelves of Wayne Tech equipment to my office.
"Cool set up," he smiled, shrugging off his backpack and dropping it by the entrance. "What are we digging into? ID-ing some perps? Tracking the suppliers, tricking the buyers?"
"No," I answered, already sensing his disappointment, "we're going to decipher the makeup of these different bags of cocaine, see if we can discover anything special about Black Mask's transactions."
"Sounds interesting," he said with a hopeful lift in his voice. "How are we going to do that?"
"We're going to take samples from each of the bags, reduce them to their molecular forms, separate the different substances in order to identify them, and measure their comparative impact and value in the…"
"Nevermind, this is sounding significantly less interesting," Jason interrupted me with a heavy sigh, looking up at my computer monitor as he wiggled my mouse, clearly looking for something more exciting. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows.
"This is the job, Jason," I said. He turned back to me with a disgruntled teenager look. "It's not all beating up bad guys. It's knowing more than them, figuring out their game before they even know we're coming." He bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged.
"Okay," he said, "it's sounding a little more interesting again." With that, I led him to the bags of cocaine. I gave him a serious look as we gloved up and I demonstrated how to take samples of the powder. For each sample I took, he followed my lead. We put the substances in test tubes with ionizing solution, then they all went into the centrifuge. Jason plugged the machine into our computer and we watched the compounds pop up on screen. The computer populated pictures of molecular structures and I smiled at the screen, easily able to translate the data I was seeing.
"We're supposed to figure out what's in those bags from this?" Jason grimaced at the screen. I smiled back at him.
"It's not so hard," I answered, my arms still crossed over my chest. "It's just like reading another language… you just need to learn some key words."
"Okay, such as?" Jason said, stepping to my side. I pointed to the first molecular structure.
"You see that one?" I motioned. "With the four red spheres?" He nodded. "This structure is the chemical model of cocaine. So…" I explained, stepping forward and keying instructions into the computer, "if we identify this structure within all the compositions we've just submitted, we can sort of… set it aside… while we examine the rest." The images shifted with my directions and the cocaine structure faded, leaving only the accompanying structures. Jason stepped forward and began examining the remaining structures.
"Okay… and how do we identify these structures?" he asked. I smiled to myself, recalling that I'd already deciphered most of these this morning with Dick… but Jason was learning a lot, fast.
"Let's see what we can figure out through context clues," I said, toggling over the easiest structure in sight. "What can you tell about this one?"
"Just two elements… NaCl. Oh, it's salt," he said, raising a finger in his 'aha' moment. I smiled nodded.
"Good. This composition looks like it's approximately 37% salt, 63% cocaine," I clarified, reading the percentages on the screen.
"What would salty cocaine do to someone that took it?" he asked with a curious smile.
"Nothing good," I smiled back. "Here… what about this one?" I asked. Dick looked up at the slightly more complicated structure. I wondered if his chemistry class had ever examined this structure... it wouldn't be uncommon.
"Well, there's sodium again…" he started, "and those are carbon, and one hydrogen, and 3 oxygen… so…"
"So, piece it together," I encouraged him.
"It's sodium… sodium… hydro…carbon…ate?" he tried to put together. I smiled and generously gave him a nod.
"Sodium bicarbonate," I answered. "Better known as baking soda."
"Baking soda," he said with a stroke of realization. "Yeah, that's a more common mixer, right?"
"Unfortunately," I said, clicking away from the structure. There were two bags left I had deciphered, but that didn't make them easy to figure out. "Alright, no pressure," I nodded at him, "because these two are tough. But what do you think?" He squinted up at the monitor.
"Well that one should be easy, right? It's just carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen," he shrugged.
"A lot of things are just carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen," I said, crossing my arms over my chest again. "You won't be able to figure this one out by sounding out its name. Look at it's binding properties." He stared up at it for a while, and I patiently waited. He let out a breath that was either frustration or a laugh, then tossed a hand at his side.
"Quadoxy… carbo… hydroxide?" he guessed with a laugh. I smiled comfortingly back.
"It's acetylsalicylic acid," I answered, "aspirin."
"Aspirin?" he asked skeptically.
"The other one is baby powder," I nodded with a tight lipped smile. I approached the computer and minimized those windows, clicking forward.
"How did you know that?" he asked.
"Well, if you study these structures long enough, you remember which structures are more acidic versus basic, and which are steroidal and which are not…" I started, but I turned back over my shoulder to him. "Plus, there's a feature in our software you can enable that identifies them automatically." He dropped his shoulders and chin in a grimace at me.
"Are you serious? That's such a waste of time!"
"No, it's not a waste of time," I answered frankly. "Because occasionally, you're going to get a substance like this." I clicked open the final substance that I had not yet identified. We stared at it a moment, it's complicated structure even stumping me.
"Well, click on the feature. The Bat Computer thing that can ID it," he said. I shook my head.
"Bat Computer doesn't know what this is," I answered, standing upright, frowning at the structure. "It's never seen it before."
"What does that mean?" Jason asked, looking more at me than at the screen.
"It means it's not in any formal database, not a commonly found substance, not in any academic databases," I clarified. "It's something new."
"And this bag is 20% this… unknown stuff?" Jason clarified, looking at the bag I had labeled 'Sample X.' I nodded. "What does that mean?"
"I'm not sure yet," I answered, looking at the chemical structure. "This structure here," I pointed out, "looks similar to a tricyclic antidepressant, which would block some action from serotonin and norepinephrine… a pretty normal drug, but in this concentration? Whoever took it would have serious memory loss issues."
"So is it like a date rape drug?" Jason asked. I shrugged.
"Maybe," I answered. "But mixing a downer with cocaine, which is a stimulant… that's what's not making sense to me. Unless the dealer is just trying to make people insanely manic…" I stopped in my thought process, turning suspiciously to Jason.
"Manic?" he asked, with raised eyebrows. "Are you thinking…"
"I'm not sure, it was just…" I said, waving the suggestion away, "it was just a thought."
"But if it is Joker…"
"We don't know enough yet," I said. "And the idea that Joker and Black Mask are working together? Joker's too much of a wild card. Black Mask likes order… structure. It doesn't fit."
"Maybe that's why," Jason suggested. "Maybe it works because it's the last thing we'd expect." I bit my lip, considering it.
We agreed that I'd present what we'd learned to Bruce tonight, and suggest the connection to him, let him see what he thinks. Joker wasn't the only maniac in this town- there were plenty of lunatics around Gotham that wanted to see others go just as crazy.
"You're sure you don't mind giving me a ride over to Dick's place?" he asked around 7:00 as we left my office and headed to the parking garage. I tried to stifle my chuckle.
"I think it's you that may mind," I said. He eyed me curiously, but I didn't clarify. "I don't actually know where he lives, by the way."
"Well I do, so no problem there," Jason answered. When we got into the nearly empty parking garage and his eyes fell on the motorcycle, he double took at me.
"Wait, we're taking Dick's bike?!" he asked incredulously. I tried to hold my smile in, but was failing.
"It's the only ride I've got here, and I promised to return it so…" I said, stepping up to the motorcycle. I grabbed the helmet off the bike and offered it to him. "I refuse to have a passenger while I'm driving that is not protected so… you get to wear the helmet." He stepped up beside me and looked between me and the helmet.
"I have so many questions…"
"Just take the helmet and get on the bike," I said as I pushed the helmet at him. As he distractedly struggled to fit it over his head, I seized the opportunity to mount the bike, my skirt riding up my thighs. When I looked back, he was looking at my legs with wide eyes.
"You, uh… sure you don't want me to drive?" he asked. I didn't know if he was asking out of courtesy, seeing my skirt struggling to hide my legs, or if he was moreso eager to drive Dick's bike.
"The sooner you get on, the sooner we get this over with," I said, quickly pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail that would do nothing to keep my hair detangled, but would at least keep it out of my eyes. Jason let out a big exhale, slapped down the visor on the helmet, and climbed on behind me, his hands initially landing awkwardly on my shoulders. But as I pulled out of the garage and onto the main road, hitting bumps in the asphalt, his hands fell to my waist.
He directed me with hand gestures that came up in my periphery. Go right, was a gesture from his left hand, pointing a finger gun to the right; vice versa for go left. I couldn't tell if he was chafed or annoyed by onlookers that continued to catcall me, and ones that yelled teasing remarks towards him. I could never actually hear anything they were saying anyways, over the roar of the bike- but I could tell some derisive laughs a smirks were not meant for me. The sideways smiles, bit lips, and winks were for me, but I just turned away. It wasn't worth my time or energy to acknowledge them.
We pulled up in front of a nice red brick apartment building. Some apartments had balconies with flower boxes; I wondered if Dick had a flower box he would tend to on cool mornings.
I wouldn't count on it.
Jason directed me into the building's garage, where the attendant instantly recognized Jason and the bike, though looked at me like I was a pleasant surprise. "I hope you and Mister Grayson have a good night," he said, with what might have been a conspiratorial look at Jason. I scurried off on the bike and we parked in Dick's designated spot- which I couldn't help but notice was denoted with a P.
"Does Dick…" I started as Jason dismounted the bike, yanking the helmet off his head.
"You'll see," Jason answered as he tried to brush his sweaty hair off his brow. I carefully dismounted the bike, trying to keep my thighs low to avoid Jason seeing anything that might scar him. He led me to the elevators and pulled a key out of his backpack. He inserted it into the slot next to the button that indicated, "P- Penthouse Suite." He turned the key and pressed the button.
Of course. Even Dick lived in what was essentially a mansion.
The elevator doors opened with a ding, and we stepped through the front door into the kitchen of his apartment. The kitchen and living room were open concept, and windows lined the far wall. A balcony lay beyond, overlooking the city and its connecting bridge to the Gotham skyline.
Sure, Dick had left home before Bruce wanted him to- but no cop could afford these digs. He was still a trust fund baby.
Jason dropped his backpack on the floor and bent over to fish out his phone while I stepped further into the room. The bright kitchen was in use, a rice cooker steaming on the counter beside a dirtied pan filled with some delicious smelling meat and a pot full of steamed broccoli. There was an island kitchen counter with four tea candles lit, spaced equally apart. The dark wooded dining table had only two table settings at it, with intentionally folded dark blue napkins and shiny flatware. A bottle of red wine sat between the plates, as well as a carafe of water.
I looked out on the balcony where, shockingly, I could see the tops of flower boxes lining the railing.
"Wow," I said in surprise.
"Hey," Dick's voice surprised me and I jumped, turning to him with a smile. He had emerged from a door to my right, dressed in dark jeans and a button up shirt that remained open at the neck for three or four buttons.
"Hi," I said, trying to cover the fact that he'd surprised me with his sudden greeting.
"How did you get in? I figured I'd have to tell the doorman to let you up, he never called…"
"I just used my key," Jason said as he stepped up behind me, looking down at his phone. I watched as Dick's face went from pleasantly surprised to embarrassed panic. I turned back to Jason, feeling like I was playing catch up. Jason looked up from his phone and scanned over Dick's appearance. "Why are you all dressed up?"
The three of us stood in a tense silence for what felt like a very long moment.
"I'm not dressed… what are… how was… work?" he asked, frantically trying to decide what train of thought to follow. I slowly turned to Jason, trying to find my own words.
"Fine," Jason answered in a very teenager tone. I looked back at Dick, where I could see a blush of red beginning to creep up his neck.
Mercy, Barbara. Have mercy.
"We were able to figure out most of the compositions of the drugs collected. We've just got the one that's stumping us- I thought you could provide some insight, before I meet up with Bruce tonight," I said, hoping I was helping save Dick from whatever this embarrassing situation was.
"You're meeting up with Bruce? Tonight?" Dick finished his thought. I nodded.
"Yeah, he suggested it this morning. Remember?" I reminded him. He looked at me blankly. I had to remind myself that not everyone had my memory.
"Is this a date?" Jason asked abruptly. I turned to him skeptically but followed his gaze to the table where the bottle of wine sat between the two place settings… it definitely looked incriminating.
"Um… yeeees," Dick slowly answered. Jason and I both looked back to Dick. I raised my eyebrows, surprised he was owning up to it.
"So wait, you guys really are dating?" Jason asked, pointing between me and Dick. I turned back to him with a shake of my head, about to explain that the couple thing was just a cover we'd been using, when Dick let out a dramatic guffaw.
"Oh, you… I didn't… no," he said with a breathy laugh. I tilted my head and stared at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation. "It's not a date with Barbara, it's… you know, a date with… someone else." I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips.
"Seriously, Dick…" Jason started.
"No, I'm…" Dick stammered out, "I'm being serious, I… I didn't know you were coming over tonight, I scheduled… a date with… someone… I work with."
"Didn't know we were coming over? You leant Barbara your motorcycle, to bring back tonight," Jason reminded him plainly.
"Well, I didn't think she was planning to stay long, or that she was going to bring you. I thought she'd send you home, you know… for homework or… stuff," Dick shrugged.
"So what's her name?" Jason asked skeptically. "The girl you work with?"
"None of your business," Dick waved.
"None of my business because she doesn't exist?" Jason asked, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
"She exists, dumbass," Dick said, and I was starting to see their brotherly relationship in earnest. "Her name is Amy. Now will you get off my back?" he asked. I heard a phone vibrate and he reached into his back pocket. He looked at the screen with big eyes and his breath caught in his throat. "See? Here, she's texting me now," he said, and he showed us the phone screen.
Amy Rohrbach
Text Message
"Well that's convenient…" Jason smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the text say?"
"Okay, you know what? If you're gonna be a shit, you wanna get lost?" he asked, tucking the phone back in his pocket.
"Sure… but you're footing the Uber bill," Jason said, taking out his phone and keying in a ride. I followed Jason back towards the apartment door.
"Yeah, just, um… we'll catch up on stuff later, if that's..." Dick awkwardly called after us as he buttoned his shirt and started following us to the door. I turned back to him as Jason slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Thanks for…" he hesitated, seeming like he was struggling to breath between words, "bringing my bike back." I nodded with tight lips.
"Yeah, well… have a good night with Amy," I answered with a nod.
"Yeah, sure he will," Jason said, and I could hear the eye roll in his voice.
"Juuuust, okay… Jason," Dick said breathily as we stepped onto the elevator. I kept my head bowed as Jason hit the button for the lobby, but I looked out of the tops of my eyes to see Dick turning back into his apartment, his hands on his head ruffling his hair. I bit the inside of my cheek as the elevator began its descent. It was awkwardly silent for about six floors.
"So that was weird," Jason acknowledged frankly. I nodded with pinched lips. He turned to me awkwardly, still holding his phone in front of his chest. "Nothing to add?" I paused a long moment, and proceeded to shake my head with the same pinched lips and raised eyebrows. He nodded and turned back to the elevator doors. The elevator pinged and released us into the lobby. I hurried out, not eager to continue the conversation I was pretty sure Jason was intent to have. I got to the curb and started looking down the street, as if I knew what the Uber would look like.
"So did you know…?" Jason asked, surreptitiously stepping up beside me.
"Nope," I answered, glancing down the street for a car that might be looking for us.
"I mean… do you wanna go back up…"
"I'd really rather not talk about it," I said, finally turning back to him with wide eyes and a slightly exasperated tone. He nodded understandingly back at me, and I turned back to the street, looking for an Uber. "What's the eta on the car?" I asked.
"Uh, should be here in like ten to thirty minutes?"
"Thirty minutes?!" I whirled back on him. "What service did you use?"
"Uh. Alfred," he answered. I let out an exasperated sigh. "We're both going back to Bruce's, and we don't want some random Uber driver asking us about why we're going to Wayne Manor, right?" I tightened my lips and went back to the stoop of the apartment, sitting down with knees tight together. Jason sat down beside me and we watched traffic for a long moment.
"So… you think Amy's real?"
"I think it is none of our business," I answered with a shake of my head. Jason scoffed and propped his wrists on his knees.
"Cause I feel like she's definitely not real…"
"Jason," I said, "it doesn't matter. Shouldn't you be more focused on your alibi with Bruce, or…"
"Oh come on, don't pretend this isn't interesting," he said, waving a hand in front of his chest. "Have you guys gone on dates before? Did you like, hook up one time or something and now he's trying to like start a relationship with you…"
"Jason, come on!" I said, exasperated and beginning to feel embarrassed for both Dick and myself. But Jason just continued on.
"Are you just not into him? Has he asked you out before? Did he, like, totally ambush you with this date so you were like trapped in it? What a dick. Ha. Dick…"
"Jason," I stopped him again. "Stop, it's… we're coworkers, okay? This isn't how you behave with people you work with. Okay, we shouldn't… gossip about each other. We're on the same team."
He was quiet a long time as I watched the road for Alfred's car, gazing at passersby on the sidewalk. A woman walked up the steps to the apartment building, opened the door, and went inside.
"What if that's Amy?" Jason laughed as he watched her go to the elevator. I shook my head and refused to respond. "So what are you going to say next time you see him?" Jason asked, and I dropped my head on my knees in defeat. "Just saying… he made it super weird, right?"
"You're making it super weird," I said.
"But like… are you just gonna pretend it didn't happen?"
"I feel like it doesn't have to be a big deal, because we are adults and we are coworkers and it is not a big deal," I explained. "I get that you and Dick are close and that maybe this is how you rag on each other, but… I'm your peer. And he's your peer. And it's not respectful to… talk like this, so I don't want to talk like this." Something seemed to click with him this time and he nodded.
"Yeah, sure… sorry," he said awkwardly.
"It's okay," I said, bumping my shoulder playfully against his. He smiled back at me, and we sat quietly a long time, watching people pass us by on the sidewalk as the sun set behind us.
"You know, I just realized something…" Jason started, and I turned cautiously to him, hoping this wasn't another jab at Dick. "We're all only-childs, right?" he asked. I considered it thoughtfully: I was, Bruce was, Jason was, Dick was…
"I guess so," I answered with a tilt of my head. Jason nodded.
"You know, I only really lived with him for a little while, but… I kind of think of Dick as a brother," he said with a nod. I smiled back.
"I kind of get that vibe from you two," I nodded. He laughed a little in return.
"Did you ever want a sibling?" he asked me. I pursed my lips as I thought.
"Not that I can remember," I said with a shake of my head. "I mean… my mom died when I was pretty young. And Dad's work in the police department has always been… well, it wasn't ever easy," I tried to explain without getting into the details. "I don't think I ever wanted anyone else to experience that. Not that it was so terrible, it was just… not what I thought most kids had."
"Better than my childhood," Jason shrugged, staring out at the street. "My parents might have had more kids… sure hope they didn't. Fucking assholes." His face was cold and certain, his jaw line tense and brow furrowed with spite.
"But they're not your parents anymore, right?" I suggested, hoping it would cheer him to think of his family as the one we were heading back to now: Alfred and Bruce. But he just nodded, staring out at the streets still.
"Yeah. Not anymore," he confirmed. He had to shake himself from whatever memories replayed themselves in his mind. He tried to feign a smile at me but came up a bit empty. "It was nice pretending to have a brother, though. Even if Dick is a dick," he smiled more genuinely.
"I'm not sure it's so much pretend," I said. "I think Dick sees you that way too." Jason kept smiling to himself, then turned to me.
"As a dick?" Jason clarified. I laughed and used one hand to push his shoulder away as he giggled back. "So what's that gonna make you?" he asked. "If Dick's my brother, and Bruce is my father…" he eyed me suspiciously and I laughed.
"I can be… whatever you want us to be," I said. He tightened his lips as he contemplated a snarky response, but I dropped a hand on his knee and gripped it tight. "How about we start with 'friends?'" Jason bit the inside of his cheek and he put his hand down on top of mine, wrapping his fingers around my palm.
"Friends," he smiled back at me, but he then looked past me and his eyes grew large. I turned to see a woman in Bludhaven's blue police uniform, looking up at the entrance of the building. She was close enough that the light from the interior lobby bounced off her nametag: ROHRBACH, A.
She looked down at the two of us with a passing smile and stepped up the stairs and into the building. Jason and I watched her step up to the desk, mild shock postponing all thoughts and conversations.
"Hi, I'm here to see Dick Grayson? He's expecting me…" she said to the doorman as the front doors closed behind her. I turned away.
Wow. So this Amy was real… and Dick really had invited her over. That scene upstairs wasn't for me.
For the first time tonight, I could feel myself processing everything. When I saw all the materials of a date set up in his apartment, of course I had assumed it was for me. After how flirtatious he had been when I left him at the station earlier? After how flirtatious he's been with me since the day we met? And since he knew I'd be coming over to return his bike? It all made perfect sense that it was set up for me. But here was this Amy, completely real, arriving right around the time he had seemed to be expecting company…
And of course I couldn't help but notice she was gorgeous. Long chocolate brown hair that reminded me of a Disney movie, a fit body that I could tell was hot even in a police uniform, and full dark lips.
Something in me fell as I realized I had made too many assumptions. Perhaps Dick was just flirtatious because, that was his way of teasing me. I had let him too close. I had done exactly what Bruce had urged me to avoid doing- Dick had become a distraction.
All these thoughts whipped through my brain in what amounted to two or three seconds, just enough time for Jason to turn back to me with a dropped jaw. "Whoa," he said under his breath, as if it slipped out of his mouth unconsciously. "Are you…" he started, but he didn't finish the question. I turned back to him with a smile.
"She's hot, right?" I suggested, trying to keep his attention off me. His head tilted as he waited for me to say something more. "I told you- it's not a big deal," I insisted, but I worried that he could hear something true behind my forced tone. He closed his mouth as his eyes dropped on me. His gaze then lifted past me as he watched a car pull up; Alfred had arrived, just in time. He got up quickly and offered his hand to help me stand; I took it so that one of my hands would be free to smooth my skirt down as I stood. I could tell Jason wanted to say more, but I smiled to appease his anxieties. "It's fine, Jason," I said again. We both climbed into the backseat of Alfred's car and he started off.
"How are you tonight, Miss Gordon?" Alfred politely called back to me.
"Good, Alfred… a little tired," I said with a laugh. He started off towards Gotham's mainland as Jason shifted his backpack to the floor and lifted his phone to text. I didn't mean to snoop on what he was typing, but I couldn't help it once I saw Jason type Dick's name into the recipient line.
You're an idiot
The words were sent and appeared in a light blue text bubble in the chat between the two. I looked at the light of the screen that reflected in Jason's eyes and allowed a half smile to emerge on my face. I turned away, leaving him to his privacy with his phone. I needed to refocus anyways- my day wasn't over yet, after all: I still needed to have a strategy session with the boss.