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I woke in the morning to my cell phone ringing: a call from Bruce's secure line. "Good morning," Bruce's voice greeted me from the other end, and I tried to clear my sleepy throat. "Hope you got some well-deserved rest."
I immediately felt guilty for having left the night before while he was still out there, searching for Joker. I could have done more to help. "I'm sorry," I started, pushing myself to sit upright in my bed. "I shouldn't have…"
"Alfred told me he sent you home," Bruce interrupted me. "It was a good call. You'd done enough for one day." I bit the inside of my cheek. Had I? Why did I want to take that as a backhanded insult when it sounded like he meant it kindly?
"I'll make it up today," I said, tossing my blankets aside and heading for my closet. "I'll head to the office and see what trail I can pick up. There's got to be something I've missed…"
"I'd rather you spent some of your time on the Black Mask case. And see if you can't dig up any more on Red Hood- I'm sure there's a Joker connection there, and it may lead us straight to him," Bruce answered. My voice seemed caught in my throat again as I paused in front of my closet.
"You don't want me tracking down Joker?" I repeated.
"I saw all the work you did last night. There's nothing more we can do. If you think of any new leads, call me and let's see where they take us. But he's got the upper hand now. We need to be careful- we're playing on his turf," Bruce clarified. I nodded and held in a deep breath, telling myself not to take it personally. Easier thought than done.
"Okay. Got it. Black Mask and Red Hood," I repeated.
"And don't forget: Two Face has a target on your head," he reminded me. I raised my eyebrows in mock excitement.
"Goody," I said. The call ended abruptly after that, as I heard a crowd of voices around Bruce's end of the line; he'd obviously just arrived somewhere. I was running late for my day, as it was- but it had been worth it for the nine hours of sleep. I tossed my hair back in a messy low bun, threw on a breezy white blouse and a pencil skirt, and quickly put on some makeup.
When I left my room to go brush my teeth, I heard mumbled swearing from the kitchen. I poked my head around the corner suspiciously to see dad struggling messily with a slightly soggy coffee filter and coffee grounds spattered across the counter. "Need help with that?" I asked. Dad looked up at me, a bit surprised by my sudden appearance, and his frustration thawed.
"Barbara," he said, placing the wet coffee filter on the counter and grabbing a towel for his wet hands. He hurried over to me and wrapped me in a hug before I could ask him what he'd done to the poor coffee machine. "I'm so glad you're alright."
"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, worried what trauma the coffee machine may have inflicted on him. He pulled away from me and looked seriously down at me.
"The attack yesterday, in Gotham Square," he specified. I had to recollect my thoughts.
Right. That.
"Oh, yeah," I said, rubbing my neck, "I was worried about you. How long were you at work last night?"
"Until this morning," he grumbled, turning back to the coffee pot. I noticed the bags under his eyes and the pale color of his skin. He was exhausted; thus the spilled coffee.
"Dad, let me," I insisted, pushing my way in front of the coffee pot and cleaning up the spilled grounds. "What happened? They caught her, right?"
"They did; rather, Nightwing and some new vigilante did," he grumbled as he stepped away, his hand making a bristling sound as it rubbed his stubbly cheek. I drew in a quiet breath and kept my gaze low.
"That's right, it was all over the news…" I responded inconspicuously.
"They're calling her Batgirl. Gotham Sun keeps saying she's Batman's girlfriend… piece of crap tabloid…" he mumbled contemptuously under his breath. I got the coffee maker successfully running and the counters cleaned up, then turned to face dad.
"So she caught the clown?" I asked, urgent for him to finish his story. I just wanted to talk about it so we could get past it.
"She caught Quinn… but the guards at Arkham Asylum couldn't sit on her. Some feds swept in and claimed jurisdiction; she was gone before I even got to my car," he shook his head. I tightened my lips and cast my glance to the floor.
"Wow. Sounds like a rookie," I said, but dad seemed to not have heard me.
"What use is it to have people like Batman around if I can't do my job well enough to keep the damn criminals behind bars?" Dad threw his hands at his sides, clearly furious but without the energy to throw a fit. I furrowed my brow and raised my gaze to meet his.
"Wait… you think this is your fault?" I asked. My dad scoffed and shrugged, turning aside as the coffee pot began to drip hot liquid. "Dad, what were you supposed to do? They were feds. Short of pulling your gun on them, there's nothing you could have done to keep her."
"They didn't produce a warrant. I could've at least kept her in her cell long enough for the D.A. to find us a case," he grumbled back at me.
"Batgirl shouldn't have left her at the Asylum. That place is clearly a mess. What did she expect would happen?" I argued against myself as I pulled two mugs out of the cabinet, but my dad waved me away.
"She expected they'd do their jobs. We screwed the pooch on this one… I'm already on the Warden's ass about training his security better. We need officers in there, not mall cops," he groaned as he pulled the creamer out of the fridge for me. I fell uncomfortably silent; I thought I was the only one taking this personally. Clearly, I wasn't. Maybe I was just like my dad, accepting blame for a failure that no one accused me of. "Anyway. You heading into the office today? You're running a little behind, aren't you?"
"Oh… yeah, I am. I should go," I said, passing the creamer back to dad. "You're not running right back in, are you?" I asked.
"After a stiff coffee," he grumbled in response, grabbing the coffee pot before all the coffee had finished being made so drops of the liquid sizzled on the burner as he poured his cup. "Joker's still on the run. I'm not sleeping until he's back in maximum security, where he belongs."
"Please don't keep that promise. Sleep is important," I reminded him, slipping into my practical heels. He shrugged as he took a swig of coffee. I stepped closer and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, please."
"You too," he said, raising his coffee cup in a toast to me as I rushed out the door. Despite not having a boss to watch my every move, I was in a rush to get to the office. There was work to do on the Black Mask case, and I wanted to see if there were any threads I could pull at to unravel the mystery of Joker's disappearance. But first, there was another errand I needed to run.
I took the train to my old stomping grounds by the library and stopped in Ernesto's for two large coffees with vanilla creamer. I got back on the Urbarail and took it to Bludhaven. While sitting on the train, I pulled a black sharpie out of my purse and scrawled on the side of one of the cups.
When I got to the police station, I noticed it was the same desk sergeant at the desk as last time. "You're Grayson's girlfriend, right?" he asked with a smile of recognition. I smiled with tight lips, a bit uncomfortable but unsure if I should disagree.
"Right, hi," I smiled kindly. "I just wanted to surprise him with a coffee. He had a late night and I thought this might cheer him up."
"Sure, hang on," he said with a smile, picking up his phone and dialing an extension. I looked around the waiting area as he spoke into the phone, seeing only a few rough looking stragglers in the station this morning. I turned back to the desk and my breath seemed to suspend. Amy Rohrbach, the woman that Dick had invited to his apartment for a date the same night I'd played valet for him, walked behind the desk sergeant to a stack of files and sifted through it for one she recognized. She was smiling like someone had just told her a joke. Her eyes lifted and caught my gaze. I averted my gaze, but quickly returned it with a polite smile. She smiled politely back, then went back to her work. I turned away, the warm coffee cups feeling suddenly heavier in my hands. "Right, thanks," he said as he put down the phone. "Grayson's out on a beat."
"Oh," I said, the possibility that he might not be here only now occurring to me. "Right. Duh. Sorry…"
"She's here for Grayson?" Amy's attention lifted and returned to me and I felt the muscles in my cheeks and jaws contract.
"Yeah, she was surprising him with a little coffee break," he said cutely at me.
"It's no big deal, I need to get to work anyways," I said casually, trying to brush off the failed attempt.
"If you want, I can leave it at his desk?" Amy offered. I felt hesitant, sure that she would read the words on the side of the cup that I'd intended only for Dick. But it wasn't incriminating or anything she could mistake to be too intimate; just personal.
"Sure," I confirmed, raising the cup sliding it across the desk. "I appreciate it."
"You got it," she said with a wink. I inwardly bristled and worried what the wink was meant for, but smiled and walked out of the precinct, heading back to the Urbarail towards Gotham and WayneTech. I sat with my back erect on the train with the coffee held in both of my hands, feeling too uncomfortable to drink it. I arrived at WayneTech around lunch with only a few work hours ahead of me. Once in my office, I put my coffee cup (now room temperature) on my desk and dropped my things by my chair.
I sat in my chair and closed my eyes a long moment, letting myself bask in the discomfort I was feeling. Dick and I were finally agreed: we would just be friends. We could've been more, but I turned that down. And for good reason. He had something developing with Amy, so he would be fine. And I got to keep focusing on work, as I'd wanted.
But my mind kept returning to that moment last night, our bodies pressed together, his face inches from mine, the feel of his lips pressed against my forehead, the sound of his whispered words…
Tell me what you want.
I fluttered my eyes open again and exhaled a deep breath. Time to shut it down. I sat forward, adjusting my blue light glasses on my nose, and opened my files.
I started with Joker, picking up where I'd left off last night- and just like last night, there was nothing new to find. I was able to track Joker on GCPD security cameras until he got to a certain bend in the road in the lower maze of Founder's Island, and then he just disappeared. On that block, I found section 8 housing, drug stores, files indicating drug and prostitution activity; there was no way we'd find out what happened unless we found a witness. Maybe it was something I could scope out another time, in less conspicuous clothing.
So I moved on to Bruce's next priorities: Black Mask and Red Hood. Obviously, Red Hood was no threat- other than the fact that he didn't listen to directions well. But it was a problem that Jason was staying prominent on Batman's radar; if Batman believed Red Hood would lead directly to Joker, he'd be watching carefully. I needed to make sure Jason played it safe until Joker was recaptured. I pulled out my cell phone and opened a new message to Jason. The plan was, as usual, for us to meet at the dojo on Bleake Island; but after my outburst last night, I wondered if he'd still come. I let out a nervous breath and closed the message, hoping he would and that I could just talk to him then.
Black Mask, then. When last we'd worked on the case, Batman had collected information on the dealers that Black Mask had interacted with at the Olympus Casino. From the information Batman shared and the quantities of drugs that had been exchanged, I guessed that Black Mask had laundered something like $25,000. How much counterfeit money could he be trying to launder? I cross checked some criminal backgrounds and confirmed Batman's work IDing the dealers. Most were Gotham locals of varying status: some big time dealers that catered primarily to people in Roman's tax bracket, while others were so scraggly they were lucky to have been granted admittance to the casino. But without discretion, their supplies were all bought out. Black Mask was moving fast, eager to be rid of the counterfeit dollars.
Had GCPD been handling the case, they most likely would have stuck an undercover cop in street clothes and tried to sell to Black Mask- catch him in the act. But Black Mask was too smart for that. He was a psychopath, but also clever and a tactician; he'd see that coming from far away. As I examined the file, I wondered if it would be smarter to pursue Black Mask for this activity, or if we should cut out the middle-man and go straight for Penguin?
My cell phone rang and my eyes darted to the screen, partially hopeful that it might be Dick. It wasn't; it was a Gotham number that was unknown to me. Was it Jason, calling from a friend's phone with an excuse to miss sparring today? I tried to dismiss my anxiety and answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Um, this is Daniel Hale, I'm… calling for Barbara Gordon?" a man's nervous voice asked over the phone. I wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment that caused the deflation in my chest.
"Daniel, yes. Hi," I greeted with a polite smile and tone.
"Hey," he laughed on his end of the phone. "I tell ya, it was quite an adventure trying to get your office extension."
"Sorry about that," I politely laughed back. "How can I help?" He fell quiet a moment on his end of the line, as if he were collecting himself.
"Well, I wanted to give you a call because… I'm trying not to come on too strong here," he chuckled over the line, "but I'm wondering if I can take you out to dinner?" The line grew quiet again; I could almost feel him holding his breath.
I told myself that I needed to say yes. But why, though? I didn't owe him anything. Sure, he was cute and he seemed sweet, but that didn't mean I needed to go out with him. But then I thought about Dick and Amy… and I just felt like I needed to say yes. Not a need like an obligation, but… a need.
"Well," I answered, "evenings are sometimes tricky for me."
"Oh, right," Daniel quickly and nervously interrupted.
"But I could make a lunch pretty easily," I finished my thought. He got very quiet again, and stayed quiet for a long moment. "Daniel? Are you there?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm… a lunch would work great. I'm just… yeah!" he laughed, his nervous energy seeming to turn giddy. "Lunch today? Or, no not today, I can't do that. Lunch tomorrow?" he asked. I shook my head, trying to match his energy.
"How about Wednesday? Is that okay? I can meet you in the lobby at noon?" I suggested.
"That works great," he answered. "Any, um… allergies, or anywhere you want to go?" he awkwardly asked. I smiled tightly.
"Um, no. No allergies. Surprise me," I said.
"Ah, that's… okay," he responded, as if my answer was somehow sensual. I furrowed my brow curiously.
"I'll see you then," I said.
"Great, yeah, I'll see you soon," he answered. I hung up before he could do anything else to make the interaction feel uncomfortable. I shook my head at the thought of him and smiled. But the thoughts of Daniel were shoved aside by the flash of a memory of Dick, his lips pressing together with his hands on my back and in my hair.
I turned aside at the memory and shook it away.
It was close enough to time to meet Jason for our sparring session, so I rushed out the door and to the Urbarail station. I got there early enough to change, and I stretched in the empty room while I waited for Jason. I had begun to worry at 3:05 when he still hadn't arrived, but the door swung open and he stepped inside already dressed to spar. He dropped his backpack by the door.
"Sorry I'm a little late," he said quietly, clearly avoiding eye contact with me.
"It's okay," I answered, getting back on my feet. "I wanted to talk before we got started, anyways."
"Yeah?" he replied. I was hopeful he'd say something more; I wasn't sure what I'd wanted him to say, but something more would have been nice.
"Yeah, I um," I began, my hands nervously pressing against my back, "I'm sorry about last night. I don't take back what I said because… you were reckless. And it can't happen again. But… I'm sorry for how I reacted." He stepped closer to me, his eyes low while he nodded lightly.
"Right," he said. "It's cool, I… I'm not trying to piss you off, you know." I tilted my head, hoping it'd get him to raise his eyes to meet mine. I was successful and he looked up at me. "I'm just… sick of training. If he's ever gonna let me hit the streets, I need to do something he'll take notice of." I nodded.
"I get it," I answered. And I really did; perhaps it was why I was so upset at having lost Quinn and Joker. "And you'll get your chance. Just… we're here to support you. We want you on the team. Can you just have faith in us, to know that we're going to give you your shot?" Jason's lips were tight and jaw fixed, but he nodded reluctantly. "Good," I said, "because I want you to hear me when I say you need to stay off the streets for a little while. Bruce thinks Red Hood has something to do with Joker. You need to make yourself scarce." He let out an exasperated breath and shook his head.
"Fine," he answered reluctantly.
"Good," I said, taking a step back. "Now get in your fight stance." He took a step back and lowered in his stance.
"Can you," he slowly asked, "maybe do some of that stuff again from last night?" I smiled a little, trying to remember how I'd come at him in my rage, and we set about sparring.
Once our hour was up, Alfred drove Jason and I both back to the mansion. I intended to use the Batcomputer to continue my work until Bruce got home, then we could go over my thoughts on Black Mask. But I noticed a bike in the drive that I hadn't expected: Dick was here.
"Miss Gordon, I hope you'll join us for dinner," Alfred said as he led us into the mansion.
"Oh, that's not necessary. I just wanted to share my notes with Bruce, then I can head out…"
"Please, he will insist. Master Grayson will be joining us as well. It will be nice to have everyone together," Alfred said to himself as he walked through the ornate doors.
"See ya then, Batgirl," Jason said, heading directly up to his room. I watched him ascend the stairs, wondering if Dick was in his old bedroom. I sucked in a deep breath and walked directly to the lift to the cave. My cleaned suit was carefully lain out on the chair in front of the BatComputer. I stuffed it in my bag and sat down to continue my work from earlier.
I searched queries with Harley's information, curious if she had surfaced anywhere yet, but found nothing in any of the databases I could access. I recalled that Dick had mentioned Deadshot and Captain Boomerang were involved in the Suicide Squad too, so I queried their information as well.
Finally, my first hint at a clue. Deadshot had been in federal prison upstate but had just this morning been granted work release. It wasn't anything terribly solid, but it would be a piece of the puzzle.
"What'd you get?" a familiar voice sounded behind me. Dick had entered the cave and seen Deadshot's mugshot on the screen. But while his eyes were focused on the screen, mine saw the Ernesto's coffee cup on his hand. As he approached, I could faintly see the scribbles of my sharpie on the white cup. His eyes darted from the screen back down at me, and I turned back to the screen and enlarged the information.
"Deadshot was released this morning from federal on work release," I said. "Nothing solid but perhaps a clue that your Suicide Squad is indeed reassembling."
"That's pretty damning," he said, stopping a few feet behind my chair. I couldn't help but notice it was farther than usual; usually he'd lean over the chair, his presence lingering over me. I tried to not miss it. "Usually we can't pin much solidly on the squad until they're in action."
"It's still not much, but it's something," I confirmed. We were both silent a moment, and I couldn't bear the quiet of not talking about the coffee I'd left for him. I spun around in the chair to see him standing with his arms crossed behind me, looking up at the screens. He was wearing a black tee shirt and jeans, looking very serious despite his typical tousled hair. He looked at me and I looked indicatively at the coffee cup in his hand. He smiled down at it and gestured it towards me.
"My favorite," he said almost jokingly. He turned the cup and looked at the writing again. "I wondered, when I saw it… were you signing it as Barbara Gordon, or as Batgirl?" I furrowed my brow. He reached the cup out to me, reminding me of what I'd written on the cup.
I'm an idiot. Thank you, and I'm sorry. BG
"BG," he said. "Barbara Gordon or Batgirl, right?"
"Yeah," I forced a smile, "I didn't think of it like that." We were quiet another long moment, the pause like a fog we couldn't see through.
"So which is the idiot? Barbara or Batgirl?" he asked. I hesitated, trying to figure out the right answer. Did it matter?
"Both?" I answered lightly. He forced a tight-lipped smile and nodded; somehow, it felt like the wrong answer. "I was… hard on myself. I can see that now. And it made me hard on Jason and hard on you and… I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Dick said, "it happens to all of us." But I didn't feel any better. He said it with arms crossed over his chest, keeping that safe distance between us. And his eyes somehow managed to look everywhere but at me.
"Right," I said. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said. I spun my chair back to the BatComputer. He worked nearby with some of the chemistry equipment and the centrifuge as I continued my work. I wondered why he was here working on this, since he had all these tools at his apartment as well, but I didn't say anything. It felt too uncomfortable.
Bruce got home around 5:30, and we convened at the dinner table at 6:00. I could tell all three of us were sitting at the table carrying something extra that evening, whether it be discomfort or frustration or disinterest, but we put on smiling, cooperative faces for Bruce's sake. He had been oblivious to our quiet qualms and would-be romances, and we needed it to stay that way. So when he asked us questions, we all played our parts well; but I could sense the hidden feelings just beneath the surface.
We decided that it may be the best recourse to circumvent Black Mask and go directly to Penguin to hamper the money-laundering; Bruce and I agreed to keep tabs on cities that might have a visit paid by the Suicide Squad; Jason shared his good grade on a science test; Dick shared that he was investigating a rash of cocaine overdoses.
"Any links to Black Mask?" Bruce asked, before taking a bite of his roast duck.
"Still working on it," Dick answered. "I left a chemical analysis running before coming up for dinner. Hoping to have answers before dessert."
"Work with Barbara on that," Bruce instructed off-handedly. I nodded affirmatively with tight lips at Dick, but he turned back to his food quickly. I tried not to pay it any mind and went back to eating myself.
"So," Jason said, "I heard an interesting rumor at school today. Something about Bruce Wayne dating one of my classmates' moms."
"That so?" Dick asked with what looked like a genuine smile for the first time tonight.
"Because I have so much time to go on dates…" Bruce mumbled to himself as he took another bite, though it didn't calm conversation at all between Dick and Jason.
"What's her name?"
"The kid or the mom?"
"Both?"
"The kid in my class is Sienna Page. Her mom is Linda," Jason answered.
"Linda Page? That's a very white bread name…"
"She's like super rich. And on a hundred boards."
"And we are inquiring if she would be interested in joining the Wayne Foundation's board. We could use some younger members on the board. Rumors of us dating are just tabloids having fun," Bruce waved the boys away, though I couldn't help but notice his smile.
"You think she's cute," I commented, unable to help getting giggly at the conversation. Bruce looked up at me, seemingly surprised that I would engage in the gossip.
"Oh she's hot, but like mom-hot," Jason said, which provoked a warning glare from Bruce. "What, she is!"
The conversation trickled out in this manner and I was grateful for the levity. After dinner, we went about our evenings: Bruce, to some phone calls; Jason, to homework; and Dick and I, back to the Batcave to analyze and compare the drug samples he was working on. We worked quietly a few moments, me at the centrifuge cleaning up the samples as Dick manned the computer and analyzed the samples.
"Thank Amy for me," I said. I could feel Dick look at me, but he didn't answer. "For getting you the coffee. I hope it didn't make her feel uncomfortable. Your desk sergeant is still under the impression that we're dating; I wouldn't want that to screw anything up for you." I finally looked up and saw Dick looking over his shoulder at me. He looked away a moment, nodding quietly, then back up at me.
"Yeah, thanks," he said. "She's pretty cool. I wouldn't worry about screwing anything up." I nodded, unsure if that made me feel better or worse. Part of me wanted to find a way to subtly inform him that I was going on a date with Daniel on Wednesday, but I squashed the impulse. It was just me being jealous, and this was what I wanted anyways. I wasn't allowed to be jealous.
"Okay, am I crazy? I cannot ID this," Dick said from his seat in front of the BatComputer, staring at the screen as it showed a compound interlaced in the cocaine. I squinted up at it, then leaned over him and cued up the samples I had previously identified.
"No," I confirmed, "I found this mixture in the Black Mask box, too. I couldn't ID it either… closest I could get was that the structure looks like that of a tricyclic antidepressant."
"These compound makeups are identical," he said. "Not just similar, but identical. If this were just some dealer throwing shit together, they wouldn't be that similar…"
"No, this was intentional," I confirmed. "You said this is what…" I started, turning to face him. At that moment, we realized how close I was- leaning over him, one hand resting on the back of the chair and the other hovering just above his arm. My white blouse hung loose off me. I stood up and backed up a step, crossing my arms over my chest. "You said this is the substance that Bludhaven is overdosing on?" I continued, trying not to let the closeness interrupt our work.
"Yeah… nine overdoses just last week," he said.
"Nine?" I confirmed, and he nodded. I nodded back.
"I think it's time we pull up files on Tetch and Crane," I glared at the screen. "One of them is up to something."