When we arrived at Wayne Manor, Alfred pulled into the enormous garage and closed the door behind us before we got out of the car. The story we agreed on in the car was that Alfred went to pick up Jason from an afternoon of hanging out with Dick and I, completely separately, asked for a ride from Wayne Tech to the Manor for our evening briefing- Alfred had picked us both up at once to simplify things. Seemed innocent enough.
I followed Jason's lead through the winding mansion and to the dining room, where Bruce had already been sitting at the end of the table in front of his dinner. Bruce rose to his feet upon seeing us, a mannerly habit learned as a child. Jason dropped his backpack in the entry to the room and hurried to a covered plate to Bruce's left.
"Barbara, join us," Bruce said with a pleasant smile. I raised a hand politely, feeling like I would intrude.
"Oh, no… don't trouble yourself. I can wait downstairs, get some work done…" I said, but the smells of the food began to reach me and I remembered how hungry I was.
"Come on Barbara, I don't know like… anything about you," Jason said. For all Bruce knew, this was very true. And honestly, I had only been getting to know Jason recently.
"Join us, please. We'll discuss work after," Bruce insisted, gesturing to the seat on his other side. I sensed Alfred's presence behind me and turned to see him carrying another plate towards me, still steaming and perfectly prepared.
"How…" I started to ask, but told myself: it's because he's magic, Barb. That's how Alfred just had an extra plate ready for you. I smiled into the room and nodded. "Alright," I consented, putting my purse down beside Jason's backpack and taking the seat across from Jason that Bruce had gestured to. Alfred put the plate down in front of me: a steaming chicken breast with a pile of raw spinach covered in walnuts and cranberry sauce, with a small mound of quinoa mixed with toasted pine nuts on the side. As Alfred began to turn and leave the room, I called, "Alfred, you should join us too." He turned back to me with a smile.
"I already ate, Miss Gordon, though thank you for your consideration," he smiled at me. I turned back to Jason and Bruce, wondering if this is how it went every night.
"Alfred always eats early," Jason explained as he swallowed a gulp of quinoa. "He's of the 'early bird special' age." I smiled in a friendly response, but turned instead to Bruce for clarification as I raised my fork and placed my napkin in my lap.
"He tends to eat a bit earlier, just in case some early evening action pulls us back to, uh… work, earlier than expected," Bruce explained. That made more sense. I stabbed my fork through a stack of spinach leaves and shoved them in my mouth, rejoicing in the taste of actual food. Had I eaten anything today? Oops. "Jason," Bruce asked, "how was school?"
"Fine. Math test went well," he said, barely taking a break from eating.
"Anything else interesting?" Bruce asked, taking a more measured bite of his chicken. Jason shrugged a little and briefly shot a glance at me through the tops of his eyes.
"I helped someone with their chemistry homework today," he said, and I felt a bit of a rush of adrenaline as he referenced his work with me at Wayne Tech. "It was cool… think I want to learn more."
"Chemistry, huh?" Bruce asked with interest as I took a bite of my chicken, eating ravenously while listening closely. "Well perhaps I should let you take a look at some of our chemistry equipment in the cave." Jason looked up excitedly at this prospect.
"Really? Yeah, that would be awesome," he said. Bruce nodded to himself as he continued eating, and Jason looked at me with a short smile before continuing eating.
"And Barbara, how is work at Wayne Tech going?" Bruce asked. I nodded.
"Great. Can't say how much help I am to Wayne Tech, but the resources give me plenty of time and capability to continue our work," I acknowledged with a nod. Bruce nodded back.
"Good. And Lucius gave you a good set up with plenty of privacy?" he confirmed.
"Yes," I answered. "There's no reason anyone would ever come down to my floor, unless they were miserably lost or looking specifically for me. And even then, my office is sort of tucked away… I'd know if anyone was in there long before they'd know where I was."
"Perfect. And did you have time to work on our active cases today?" he asked. I nodded wiping my mouth as I figured we were about to launch into deeper conversation.
"Yes. I spent most of my day on the Black Mask case. We've got some confirmed identities we can follow, as well as some interesting data on the composition of the drugs. Long story short, I'm pretty sure it's a money laundering situation," I said, eager to take another bite of food.
"Money laundering?"
"The bills are counterfeit," I explained, lips half stuffed with quinoa. "All of them. And the counterfeiter did good work, too. And the drugs are all clearly from different suppliers." Bruce nodded back at me as he chewed a piece of chicken.
"We'll take a look at everything you've got worked out after dinner," Bruce said almost dismissively. "Any other early instincts?" I looked cautiously at Jason, who was trying to keep his eyes on his food even though he was clearly listening closely and wanted to be involved in the conversation.
"Well… one of the bags of cocaine... it's cut with something I can't identify. But it's something similar to a tricyclic antidepressant- definitely a downer. I'm trying to figure out why you'd mix a stimulant with 20% of an SSRI," I said.
"Unless you were intentionally trying to produce a manic or unstable state…" Bruce thought aloud.
"Which led me to an automatic concern that perhaps…" I started, and I didn't need to finish the thought. Bruce's brow furrowed as he thought sternly over the possibility, "Joker may be involved."
"But that would be super subtle," Jason volunteered his input. I looked cautiously over at him, unsure he should be weighing in if we wanted to hide his involvement from Bruce. Or would it look more suspicious for him to stay quiet? "Joker's not exactly the subtle type."
"No, he's not," Bruce confirmed, "but he knows when to have a quiet stage of his plans. He's been very good at keeping us in the dark until he wants us involved in his schemes. It's all about showmanship for Joker… what goes on behind the scenes shouldn't be visible to the audience."
"Maybe before, but now you've got Barbara, right?" Jason suggested, pointing a fork at me. "She can do stuff you can't, and he'll never see her coming." I smiled over at Jason, genuinely flattered.
"Thank you, Jason," I said with a grin, taking another bite.
"Which means we should perhaps keep you hidden, just in case," Bruce confirmed with a look to me. "You could be an asset in our next fight against Joker, if the underworld doesn't know you exist."
"Which, so far, is the case. Though Two Face's men might share that the Batman that took them down had long red hair," I said, continuing to eat.
"Speaking of which, Two Face's vendetta against Joker might play into this case with Black Mask somehow," Bruce said, becoming less interested in his food and more interested in our casework. "We're missing a link here… maybe it will surface when we get to the Bat Computer." With that, conversation at the table muted for a moment and we all proceeded to shovel food in our faces while we had the chance. It was clear to me that Bruce was eager to get back to work as soon as possible.
"So Barbara… what does your dad think of you disappearing every night?" Jason asked. My fork froze in its journey to my mouth, and I watched as Bruce cast a cautionary glance at Jason. I shook off the surprise of the question and moved on.
"It takes some conscious effort to come up with cover stories," I confirmed. "And speaking of which, I'll want to get home before ten tonight, since I haven't been home in over 30 or so hours… and to be honest, he doesn't love it."
"Which, by the way, we're nearing a solution on that front," Bruce said. I shook my head with surprise.
"What does that mean?" I asked. Bruce smiled discreetly and nodded.
"Trust me… it's not ready quite yet, but… you're going to love it. I'll show you the plans downstairs," he said. I looked confusedly between Jason and Bruce, but smiled regardless.
We finished dinner with casual chit chat and small talk about Jason's school. As soon as our plates were clear, Alfred came in to clear the table and offer us coffee. I waved it away, not wanting anything to keep me up late once I got home. We hustled down to the Bat Cave for our updates. Jason went upstairs to do his homework, but something told me that Alfred may fill him in on any details later.
We started with my Black Mask briefing. I gave him everything I had: the identities discovered from the fingerprints on the box, the composition of the drugs, the properties of the counterfeit bills. We shared theories: perhaps Simpson would be give up answers, and maybe Neill was a heavy perp that would lead us to bigger evidence once threatened. Maybe Joker was participating in the drug running, or maybe these were street drugs he was helping peddle but he had no participation in the money laundering. Or maybe it wasn't Joker at all- he was currently locked up in Arkham, after all. Maybe it was someone else, like Mad Hatter or Scarecrow. Or maybe it was just a really bad dealer, making cocktails they didn't understand.
But if it were Joker… what would those connections look like?
"If Joker had taken money from Two-Face and has been funneling extorted money from Gotham small businesses," I reasoned, "and was simultaneously dealing drugs that induced a manic state… it would mean…"
"It would mean he's trying to make a lot of money, fast," Bruce nodded, looking up at the evidence on screen.
"Diversifying his portfolio," I reiterated with a shrug. "Smart. And sneaky."
"Exactly. He doesn't want us to know he's doing it, and he's managing to do it all behind bars," he said, one hand on his chin as he thought.
"Wait, that's the other question…" I said, raising a hand from my spot in the chair. "If it is Joker, how could he be manufacturing these drugs? He doesn't have access to his men, to contraband… he's in Arkham's High Security Wing." Bruce nodded at the screen.
"He'd have to have help," he said, "on the inside." Bruce leaned over the back of my chair and pointed to the monitor. "We need to run a report of all employees working at Arkham Asylum, anyone that might have access to Joker. That should include cooks, janitorial staff, anyone that might be able to sneak a message to him. See if any have criminal backgrounds, any interesting psych profiles. Search his recent patient file history, too, see if there have been any recent developments. Look for connections that resemble the Red Hood. He's involved in all this too somehow." I pulled up the staff database and began following his instructions, though I kept my eyes low at the mention of Red Hood. I wondered if this would cause us problems.
"The report will take a while to run," I said, "what about what Dick found in Bludhaven? The possible partnership with Riddler, and dirty bombs?" I reminded him, diverting attention away from Red Hood. Bruce looked curiously up at the screens. "Maybe that's what he's fundraising for."
"Maybe," Bruce confirmed, "though a dirty bomb isn't incredibly expensive to make."
"Depending on the size," I reminded him. He nodded concernedly at me.
"So long as Joker's locked up, I doubt we have much to worry about immediately," he said, looking at the computer as it ran through the database, collecting information. "Let's talk about our other active cases."
Two Face and his men had frozen their heists on small businesses; they were either taking time to regroup, laying low to hide from Batman, or they were abandoning the effort. After all, how much money could be gathered from small delis and convenience stores?
"Perhaps it's time to pay Harvey a visit," Bruce suggested. "I don't like to wait in a defensive pattern."
"And Croc?" I asked. "What are we doing about Jones?" Bruce shook his head.
"We may have to let this one slide to the backburner, depending on what turns up on Joker," Bruce nodded at the monitor. "From what I can see, Croc hasn't done anything that merits our immediate attention. I'm sure he'll be up to no good in time, but for now… let's just keep our eyes on the sewers." I nodded, bumping Croc's name to the bottom of our list. The Arkham Asylum report was still running, and I let out a sigh, wondering when it would finish. "Why don't you head home, Barbara?" Bruce suggested. "You look exhausted, and I'm sure Gordon is worried about you. When you get to work in the morning, the report should have something for us to work from." I nodded, standing as I wiped my eyes.
"Sure… thanks," I said, but my memory struck me with a reminder. "Oh… at dinner, you mentioned you had a solution almost in place for my living situation?" His eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face.
"So glad you remembered," he said, leading me over to a large multipurpose table. He pulled a tall roll of papers out of a shelf below it and laid it out across the table, weighing down two of the opposing corners with paper weights.
They were schematics to a building on Bleake Island, situated between Chinatown and the Cauldron district. I realized, as I saw the notes denoting machinery on three walls of the top floor of the building.
"Is this the clocktower?" I asked, flipping up the corners of the schematics.
"Yes… recently acquired as a historic landmark by Wayne Enterprises as part of our 'investment in the revitalization of Gotham City.' The outside will remain historically preserved, while the inside will be fitted with top technology to accommodate our modern city," he said with a smile. He flipped some of the pages over, showing me the layout. "The bottom few floors will host space for overflow from Wayne Enterprise staff… space that will be listed in our books for use in case of office unavailability, but will be mostly used as an offsite server storage location. Thus, it will have top notch security…"
"And complete access to the Bat Computer network," I smiled knowingly.
"But, by taking the elevator here on the opposite side of the building," he said, pointing it out, then flipping to the appropriate page, "a retina scan will get the elevator to take you up to your living quarters." The schematics revealed that the elevator would let me out on the floor with the clock faces. A circular living space with plenty of bookcases was shown; spiral stairs would lead down to the floor below, where an open concept kitchen and eating space, bedroom, and training room were outlined as well as the necessities of bathrooms and laundry space.
"This is…" I started, feeling overwhelmed.
"But wait…" he said, flipping behind even more pages of the schematics to reveal the same main floor with the clock faces, but in full Bat-view. "A retinal scan will close shutters behind each of the clock faces, turning them into screen displays. Your dashboard will populate here, the bookcases will sink into the floor, your gadgetry will become accessible in this corner, and…" he flipped a further page, "we'll create an escape hatch here in the roof, in case you need to get to work in a hurry." I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed with everything he was showing me. "Plus, a garage system will be installed below the tower to give you easy access to your motorcycle- and, in case I ever need a quick fix while downtown, it will be Batmobile compatible." I was silent, processing all the information he'd just shared. "What do you think?"
"I think…" I thought, barely able to force words to my throat, "that I'll never be able to afford this." He laughed a little under his breath. "Seriously, I… would need to do a lot more work for Wayne Tech…"
"Barbara, you're working with us," Bruce said, leaning towards me over the schematics. "I paid for Dick's place in Bludhaven, so he could have it fitted for his needs as Nightwing. Someday, I'll pay for Jason to have something similar in his own place. These are the tools of the job. Think of it as... your compensation package." I scoffed.
"Yeah, but that's different, they're your…" sons, is what I wanted to say, but I stopped. They weren't really his sons, so I knew the argument was already sort of invalid… but this was different.
"Barbara," he said, coming around the corner of the table towards me. "I can't pay you for your work as Batgirl. I think the IRS would frown upon it." I let out an uncomfortable laugh. "But I can pay you for your work at Wayne Tech, and no one will ever take a second glance. Let me give you the tools you need to do your job well."
"But…" I hesitated, still uncomfortable with this level of gift, "it's just so much, and what will I tell my dad, and…"
"It's what you need to do your job well," he clarified. "You can do more than I can with a computer, so I want you to have the best. And you can tell your dad that it's part of a promotion or something… premium living conditions adjacent to your workplace. Driving from Gotham Mainland to Wayne Tech is already a hike. Wayne Tech will provide you with a moving stipend." I grasped for another excuse, but failed to find one.
"I… don't know what to say," I laughed. I raised my eyes to his. "Thank you. This is… thank you." He nodded and rolled up the schematics.
"Good. Construction is close to beginning… it'll take them some time to get the bones of the interior up before we bring in the tech contractors to load in the specifics. But I've already got my guys on installing the garage," he said as he stuffed the schematics back in their place.
"Your guys?" I questioned.
"Lucius," he shrugged, "plus a German designer that helped produce the Batmobile. He doesn't know my identity, but he thinks I'm a very close friend of Bruce Wayne."
"I suppose you are," I said with a smile. He nodded and started walking back towards the Bat Computer.
"Start thinking about what you want the interior to look like. Since you're worried about the place being too nice, I'll leave a lot of the furnishing to you," he said with a smile, and I nodded in return.
"Goodwill-chic then, I think," I said as I grabbed up my purse again and retreated from the Batcave. Alfred offered me a ride home and I graciously accepted, taking my phone out of my purse for the first time tonight.
As Alfred drove, I scrolled through all my missed notifications.
Dick Grayson, 2h ago
Missed Call (2)
Dick Grayson, 2h ago
Just calling to make sure you made it to Bruce's
Dick Grayson, 1h ago
Still wanna go over some of the evidence you and Jason found?
Dad, 1h ago
Still at work? Come home!
Dick Grayson, 45m ago
You going out tonight with the boss? Want me to join up?
Dick Grayson, 32m ago
Missed Call
I dimmed the screen for a moment, tossing my head back against the headrest. What did Dick want? He seemed frazzled by the fact that I'd caught him on this date. Was he trying to lead me on while dating this other woman? Why did it even matter? I didn't want to date him anyways. Remember, Barb, you turned him down way back and said nothing could ever happen between us. So why did I care so much?
"Any plans for the evening, Miss Gordon?" Alfred politely asked me. I smiled up at the rear view mirror, where he could see my face.
"Sleep, Alfred. Just sleep," I answered with a shake of my head as I wiped my eyes.
"Master Todd told me about some of your progress today in his studies," Alfred said vaguely. I nodded.
"He's smart," I confirmed. "Very clever."
"He seems to hold you in rather high esteem," Alfred continued. I smiled back at Alfred.
"Well… the feeling's mutual," I said, turning and looking out the window.
"Perhaps I can set up some sparring sessions between you two," Alfred suggested. "Your fighting styles are quite different- I think it would do him good to learn from you." I nodded.
"That sounds like a great idea," I said. Alfred dropped me off just around the corner from my apartment and I started towards home, eager to climb into bed.
I felt my phone vibrate in my purse and I pulled it out.
Dick Grayson. Answer or Decline
I stared at the phone a moment. Maybe 30% of me wanted to answer the phone, to hear him out, to figure out what was going on with him. But most of me, the smarter and more rational part of me, told me to leave it alone. I was too tired to deal with any of this anyways. Dick hadn't made me a priority tonight- I didn't need to make him a priority. I hit 'decline' and hurried inside to the smells of a frozen, artificial dinner.
"Hey, busy bee," Dad said as he emerged from the kitchen, the plastic tray of food in his hand. "You look wiped."
"I am," I said, dropping my things by the door.
"Need food?" he asked, gesturing towards the kitchen, but I waved him away.
"No, I already ate," I answered, circumventing the glass coffee table and plopping myself on the old couch. Dad came and sat beside me, grabbing the remote off the table and turning on the small TV in the corner.
"Wanna watch something?" he asked, resting his food on his lap as he flipped through channels. I tilted my body so my head leaned on his bicep, kicking my flats off and curling my legs up on the couch.
"Turn on sports," I said, letting my eyes close as I leaned against him.
"Honey? You hate sports," he reminded me. A tiny part of me wanted to argue that I only hated watching sports, but I didn't have the energy to put up a fight.
"It's just noise, though… it'll help me fall asleep," I said. I could hear him breath out a laugh through his nose, but he switched on ESPN and continued eating.
"This job is really taking it out of you, huh?" Dad commented. I groaned against his arm.
"It's good though," I said. "I really like it."
"You do?" he asked. I groaned an "mhm" in reply. "I'm glad, sweetie." He was quiet a long moment, and I couldn't hear him eating. He shifted behind me and I felt him kiss the crown of my head. "I'm proud of you, Barbara," he said in his solid, low voice. I smiled to myself, feeling oddly content despite not being very comfortable on the couch. I nuzzled against him and let the noise of the show lull me to sleep.
I had no idea what the commentators were talking about. They reported on baseball and a hostile rivalry between the two Gotham teams, the Knights and the Griffins. One commentator mentioned the Metropolis Meteors having the upper hand this year, and it was at this point that the voices became a white noise. My eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep against the solidity of my dad's arm.
When I woke up, the room was pitch dark. The TV was off. Dad was no longer on the couch beside me; he had let me rest across the length of the couch and covered me with a throw blanket. I sat up groggily and crossed the room to my purse, looking at the time. It was 3:48 in the morning. But perhaps more notably, I had missed more calls and texts.
Dick Grayson, 4h ago
You're not on comms- are you not out tonight?
Dick Grayson, 4h ago
What's going on?
Dick Grayson, 2h ago
Missed Call
Dick Grayson, 2h ago
Texted Jay because I was worried something happened to you. He said you went home around 10. Why aren't you answering?
Dick Grayson, 1h ago
I'm sorry. Can I explain what happened tonight?
I darkened the screen and let out a sigh. How did he still have energy? We'd been up for so long… he needed to sleep sometime, right? I went to my bedroom and quickly shed my work clothes, not bothering to put on pajamas before I slid under the covers. Before I plugged my phone in, I hurriedly typed a response to Dick.
Go to sleep. You've been up for 2 days straight.
I plugged the phone in and flicked on Do Not Disturb mode. Just as I was about to darken my screen, I saw the three little dots appear in our chat indicating that he was typing an answer. I was tired, and didn't want to stare at my screen any longer. I darkened the screen and put the phone on the floor, rolling away and tucking the blankets up around my chin.
The next time I woke, it was to the smell of my dad's horrible burnt coffee and the sound of the toaster popping up a bagel. I rolled over, eyes squinting at the sunlight bursting through my blinds, to see the clock: 7:32.
Might as well get up and go to work.
I rolled over and picked up my phone, allowing myself to look at my notifications one last time before getting up for the day.
Dick Grayson, 3h ago
Right. Thanks. Can I swing by tomorrow?
Dick Grayson, 3h ago
Night, Barb.