"What happened?" Batman barked at the Batcomputer monitor. Once Dick and I had confirmed that Harley Quinn had been released from federal custody, we called Bruce home. He cancelled his dinner plans and we immediately set to work. Dick and I had suited up and were standing behind him now, looking far angrier in our dark outfits than I felt. Our outfits made us look ominous and threatening by design. The Flash, comparatively, looked like he was shaking in his boots on his end of the video call. His red outfit with the yellow lightning bolts by his ears looked childish compared to ours; rather, he looked childish compared to us.
"I told you," he said, his voice angry but still so young that it felt hard to take him seriously. "We incapacitated and arrested the Bronze Tiger and Nightshade, and Slipknot was killed onsite. They were on the run and police opened fire; he couldn't, uh… slip away." Flash looked back at us with wide eyes, waiting for us to get the pun. I cringed, feeling bad for the poor kid. He was not exactly socially skillful.
"Why was Quinn released? Did she escape custody?" Batman growled at the screen, demanding answers.
"I don't know, Batman," Flash answered, less defensive and more defeated. "The rest got away, I had my hands full with the ambassador. Who is finally stabilizing now, by the way," he said as if Bruce had been incredibly rude not to have asked after her health.
"Who else was with them?" Nightwing asked from behind Batman. Flash looked cautiously between Nightwing and Batman.
"Sorry, who are you again? It's kind of hard to keep up with your ever-expanding family of superheroes over there, Batman," Flash tried to joke.
"It's Nightwing. Answer the question," Dick demanded.
"Right… Nightwing… Batgirl seems a lot nicer than you," he nodded to me. I stayed silent. "Beyond Slipknot, Nightshade, and Bronze Tiger, Deadshot and Harley Quinn were there. And Captain Boomerang, too," Flash said.
"That's it?" Nightwing confirmed.
"Yeah… sorry, were you expecting a larger party?" Flash asked. Nightwing's gaze dropped and I saw him lost in thought; he must have been thinking about Riddler.
"Were there any leads on where the Suicide Squad deployed from, or where they returned to?" Batman asked.
"Nothing solid," Flash shook his head. "I'm still working on it- not all of us enjoy the title of 'world's greatest detective,' you know."
"Work harder," Batman insisted. "I can send someone to assist you, if you need the help, but Harley Quinn must be found. If she returns to Gotham, she'll make straight for Joker. There's no telling what they'll do."
"No need to send anyone," Flash insisted. "In fact, you might want to keep your best and brightest close. If Harley Quinn is loose, I have a feeling she's already well on her way back to her 'puddin.'"
"Copy," Batman said, and he reached up to flip off the video call.
"Hey Batgirl," Flash called to me, waving at the camera. I felt Nightwing turn and look at me confusedly as I stared just as perplexed up at the screen.
"Call if you need us, Barry," Batman said, reaching for the dials.
"Barry? How do you…" and Batman cut the link, interrupting Flash midsentence. I smiled to myself a little bit, then removed my cowl.
"Flash is a character, huh?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. Batman rose from his seat and strode towards us.
"Track her down," he directed me. "Flash is right; she'll be on her way back to Gotham and to Joker."
"On it," I said, pushing aside the computer chair and getting to work.
"I'll head back to Bludhaven, see if I can dig anything up on Riddler," Dick said, beginning to turn away.
"Stay," Batman ordered him. "Riddler wasn't with them. You're most helpful here."
"Just because Flash didn't see Riddler doesn't mean he wasn't there," Dick said, tossing his hands at his side.
"Even if Riddler was there, he's gone now. If you're going to find him, it'll be using our servers. And you'll work faster with Barbara," Batman instructed him. Then he turned and headed for the Batmobile.
"And where are you going?" Dick demanded from him.
"Founders Island," Batman said as the Batmobile roared to life. "Time to get some answers." He zipped off the pad and disappeared; the Batcave tweeted with the life of disturbed bats, then quieted again. Dick shook his head as he trudged back towards me. He stood at the keyboard beside me and we worked in tandem as we dug through databases of travel records and crime reports between here and Keystone, trying to find any trace of Harley Quinn.
As we worked and the adrenaline of Batman's directives lessened, a fog lifted off us. The discomfort began as a low hum in the back of my thoughts, reminding me that Dick had just revealed he had feelings for me; reminding me that our conversation had been ended abruptly. That low hum turned into a high-pitched scream in my mind as the minutes ticked past, and I couldn't stay silent any longer.
"So…" I started.
"We don't have to talk about it," Dick interrupted me. I closed my lips and looked back down at my keyboard for a moment.
"Maybe you don't," I said with a coy smile as I turned back to him, "but I think I do." His eyes closed as he faced his keyboard. I turned away from the monitors and stepped closer to him. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?" He turned to me with a grimace.
"What was I supposed to say?" he asked, then his eyes widened. "And I did try to say something, remember? The morning before the Quinn attack, I was trying to come clean, and you…"
"I didn't know that's what you were trying to come clean about!" I replied.
"Well, so what? What does it matter?" Dick asked.
"Of course it matters," I answered.
"You're still with Daniel, right?" Dick asked. At that comment, I had no quickfire response. No: I technically was not with Daniel. We had never discussed exclusivity or labels or anything official. But we had been on ten dates (in ten days, mind you), and he was thinking of meeting my dad and comforting me through traumas… we were definitely on different pages when it came to how serious we thought we were.
In the time I stood thinking about Daniel, Dick turned back to his keyboard and continued work. I turned back to my own keyboard, wanting to say something but not knowing what I could say. Did I really want to ditch what I had with Daniel for the potential of something with Dick? All the old truths still remained: we worked together, Bruce didn't want us getting distracted by each other, we worked for different missions. But… it was Dick.
I turned to him, watching him focus on work. His jaw was tight and his eyes focused; it was a look I recognized as having seen a lot in the past couple of weeks. He was trying to persevere, to get past me. I turned my gaze back to the monitors but reached my hand out to land on his wrist. He abruptly stopped typing. I frantically searched for the words I wanted to say.
"You mean a lot to me, Dick," I said softly. It was all I could summon that I felt vulnerable enough to admit without making empty or ambitious promises. I didn't want to promise that Daniel and I would break up right away, and I didn't want to throw everything away to have him right now. But I didn't want to lose him either; but I couldn't tell him that…
I pulled my hand back and got back to work, trying to keep myself distracted. We continued tracking Harley this way (or, at least, attempting to) for hours. We found some breadcrumbs, but nothing that was solidly her. It was 3am when Batman returned home, and we were still standing at our keyboards.
"Go home," he ordered us as he walked straight to our spots at the keyboard and continued our work. "Nothing we can do tonight." I looked to Dick, who had begun unfastening his suit at the neck. His eyes darted up to me and I saw his face flush.
"Do you need a ride?" he asked me. My gaze dropped. I knew he was only asking out of obligation.
"No," I answered. "I'll catch a ride from Alfred," I said.
"That's silly," he shook his head. "God willing, Alf's asleep. Get changed. I'll take you home." I felt like I couldn't reject the offer; I didn't want to wake Alfred either, and there was no way I'd be catching an Uber from Wayne Manor. So I changed back into my dress and heels, leaving my Batgirl suit in the cave. I scrolled through my phone, checking my messages.
Dad, 7h ago
Hanging with Colleen again? Tell her I say hi. Drink water.
Colleen, 6h ago
Do you want a water bottle?
Colleen, 6h ago
Grabbing you one anyway
Colleen, 4h ago
Do you need rescuing? That guy looks like a loser lol
Colleen, 2h ago
Where are you? I need a bathroom buddy!
Colleen was doing a great job of being my texting alibi. As I scrolled through the messages, I fruitlessly wished there was someone I could talk to about Dick. I couldn't talk to Jason about it, and definitely not to Bruce. Alfred was just too… Alfred. And no way could I talk to dad about it.
A thought crossed my mind that I hesitated on. It wasn't a great idea… but it wasn't the worst idea I'd ever had. I moved closer to the window in the bathroom and hit dial on the contact name. It rang three times before the line connected.
"Hey," Colleen's voice answered. The cacophony of noise behind her indicated she actually was at a club or bar.
"Hey," I answered. "Where are you?"
"Oh no, what'd I fuck up?" she asked in a panicked tone.
"Nothing," I responded, feeling like I was shouting into my phone so she would hear me. "Where are you?"
"Lucid," she answered. "It's a lounge on Miagani."
"That's an ironic name for a club…" I mumbled.
"What?" she called back.
"Mind if I join you?" I asked. She was quiet a moment.
"Like, really?" she asked.
"Yeah, really," I answered.
"Sure," she finally granted me permission. "Yeah, totally. Text me when you get here, I'll make sure the door guy lets you in."
"Okay," I answered. "Cool, thanks. See you soon." I left the bathroom with my small clutch bag and headed to the drive, where Dick was waiting on his bike. "So, um… I'm not going home," I said, as I straddled the bike behind him and tucked my dress around my legs.
"You're not?"
"No."
"Then where am I taking you?" Dick asked.
"Miagani," I answered. "There's a lounge called Lucid."
"You want me to drive you to a nightclub at 3:30am?" Dick asked. I shrugged behind him as I pulled on his helmet.
"To be fair, it's a lounge," I said, "though I'm not really clear on what the difference is."
"Daniel meeting you there?" he asked as he revved the bike to life.
"No!" I shouted loud enough for him to hear. He turned his head over his shoulder to hear me better, but he didn't meet my eyes. I put one hand on his waist and another on his upper back. "It's not him," I shouted again. He turned away at that point and shifted into gear, driving us away. The wind generated by the bike whipped up my legs. On the drive up here, I'd kept my hands fixed on his waist as if it would jeopardize everything if they'd moved. But now…
I moved one hand from his waist and pressed my fingertips against his back, running my fingers up his spine. I flattened my hand between his shoulder blades, and my other arm wrapped further around his waist until I was laying flat against his back. He didn't change his posture nor reach down to my hands; but I didn't move.
Dick found Lucid, which looked to be an upscale lounge. It had a line out front and a man with a stereotypical earpiece and clipboard guarding the door. Dick pulled up to the curb and allowed me to dismount, smoothing my skirt down as I stood and removed my helmet.
"Thank you," I said, handing him the helmet. He took it and nodded up at me from his spot on the bike.
"You sure you're good here?" he asked, looking over the line of guests and me in my sundress, which was evidently not fancy enough for the standard attire. I shrugged.
"I'm good," I answered. Part of me wanted to reach out to him and touch him, to tell him I wanted him to come in with me. But I kept my distance.
"Okay, well," he said, looking from me to the line of people, then down the sidewalk to some drunk guys walking home, then to the bouncer, then back at me. "Just call if you… yeah," he stammered. I smiled at him and nodded.
"I will," I promised. He kicked the bike back to life and left as I pulled out my phone, texting Colleen.
Here- help?
I stepped forward to the bouncer guarding the door of the lounge. "Hi," I greeted him kindly.
"There's a line," he said, pointing to the others waiting for entry. They glared at me like I was a scheming, entitled idiot. Maybe I was.
"I see that," I replied. "I have a friend that's inside, I'm just wondering if I could get in to see her…"
"Absolutely," he answered.
"Oh," I smiled pleasantly at him, not expecting the conversation to be so simple.
"As soon as these other folks all get in," he finished his thought. I tightened my smile and nodded. Of course. The door swung open and Colleen's face appeared. Her makeup was on point and she looked stunning in her small black dress.
"Hi, Curtis, she's my friend. Do you think you could…?" she asked politely. The bouncer (Curtis, apparently) smiled at her, then over at me.
"Oh, you're with Colleen," he said. He unhooked the red velvet rope and waved me inside. "Sorry. Just doin' my job."
"No, of course," I said as I stepped through. "Thank you."
"Thanks babe," Colleen smiled at him before pushing me inside with her.
"Thanks," I began to say as she ushered me inside, but she suspiciously looked around herself and pulled me into a room off to the side full of empty coat racks. "What are you…"
"Oh my god, am I fired?" she asked frantically. I shook my head, surprised and confused.
"What? No, I…
"I knew I should have texted you earlier. I'm so sorry, I just got busy! I know that's not an excuse but I…"
"Colleen, you're not in trouble!" I slowed her down. She paused, registering that I was not here for disciplinary reasons. "Jeez, I… this is so dumb… I just… am having a tough day and I didn't have anyone to… talk to about it, so I thought I might… call… the one person who is paid to be my friend," I stammered, putting my hand to my head. I looked back up at her with a pained look on my face to see her thinking through what it meant that she was not in trouble. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your night… I should go," I said, heading for the door.
"No no no," Colleen stopped me, grabbing for my arm. "It's cool, I just… I was freaking out!" she laughed. "No, god, come in. Let's hang," she said, pulling me out of the empty coat room by my hand. She dragged me up to the lounge, which was a pink tinged room full of leather sofas and dark wooden accents. The room was filled with men and women between the ages of 30 and 50. Everyone was in suits and classy (though still slutty) cocktail dresses, and I felt horribly underdressed in my sundress.
"Wow," I commented as I looked around the room.
"I know… gold digger's paradise," she smiled at me. She dragged me to the bar leaned over the counter daintily. "Two pomegranate martinis," she commented.
"Actually, just one… I'll have…"
"You have to have a drink," Colleen ordered me sternly. "My treat, but you have to drink." I took in a deep breath and released a sigh of surrender as I looked at the bartender.
"Bourbon, neat," I said.
"Weller's okay?" the bartender asked, and I nodded absentmindedly. Colleen turned back to me with an impressed grin.
"Nice choice," she smiled. "You trying to snag a new man?"
"What? No… what?" I asked, confused and embarrassed, but primarily confused.
"Oh, come on," she whispered to me, stepping closer. "There are only so many things you could be up to when I'm covering for you every night," she whispered incredibly low. My cheeks flushed red. "Either you are a very cheap assassin, or a very expensive… something else," she hinted. I nodded slowly: great. She thought I was a prostitute. "No judgement," she exclaimed a little louder. "I mean, you know my main job. Whatever pays the bills." She grabbed the drinks as they were delivered by the bartender and she gave him a wink as she turned away. She handed me my bourbon and led me to a booth by itself on the side of the room. "So," she said as we sat, "what's going on?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, we've been 'going out' for weeks now and I rarely actually see you… but tonight? You had me freaking out," she laughed as she took a sip of her drink. Then she leaned forward over the table in a way that showed all her cleavage and whispered to me, "so you had better have a good reason."
I fingered my class nervously. "I think I'm gonna bore you," I said nervously with narrowed eyes.
"Try me."
I took a long sip and put the glass back down on the table. "Okay," I said, trying to figure out how to navigate the conversation without incriminating myself. "So I've got this… job," I said subtly, indicating the job she thought she knew about, "but I really like this guy that kind of… conflicts with the job. So I decided a while back, no way can I be with him, right?"
"Right…"
"Okay, so… and by the way, I thought he was dating someone anyways, so I thought he was unavailable anyways, right? So, I meet this new guy… and he's great. He's sweet and he likes me a lot… like a lot a lot, and he treats me well, and… now I find out the first guy, the guy that conflicts with the job, he was never dating anyone and he's been interested in me all along and… I'm just…" I trailed off and lifted my glass of bourbon, drinking the rest down in one sip.
"Wow, okay," Colleen said, and I caught her waving to the bartender to bring me a refill. "Okay, lots goin' on here. So the job is… still there?"
"Yes, job is going well, job is fine," I reassured her.
"But this first guy, he conflicts with the job?" she asked. I hesitated and struggled with how to rephrase the problem.
"His involvement would not preclude the job… but it definitely wouldn't help it," I said with a shake of my head as I fingered my now empty glass.
"And this second guy, he's… totally separate?"
"Yeah…"
"But you're also not into him?" she asked. My jaw dropped and I hesitated.
"No, I didn't say…"
"I know what you said, but I also heard what you said and honey… you're just not into him," she frowned at me. The bartender stopped by and picked up my empty glass, replacing it with another. "So you're trying to figure out if you go for the 'L-word,' even if it might endanger your job, or if you should play it safe with the poptart?"
"Poptart…" I questioned, but she pressed on ahead.
"And you being with this guy you love isn't gonna automatically ruin this… career you've got going for yourself?" she asked incredulously. I shrugged and nodded. "Then what are you waiting for!"
"Wait a second! I never said I loved him, that's just…" I raised my glass for another sip.
"Well you do!" Colleen laughed at me. "Clearly! I mean, who do you think about when you wake up in the morning?" she asked. I smiled down at my hands, not wanting to say. "When your phone buzzes, whose name are you hoping will be on the screen? Or when something happens, who do you want to talk to about it? When he's upset, does it just bring everything crashing down like an earthquake? And when he's close to you, does it just feel like the air is thinner and warmer and…" she described, and I felt my cheeks flushing as she asked her questions. I thought of the times I was behind Dick on the bike, my hands on his body and how I craved to touch more of him. I thought of the times I woke up wanting to text Dick or see his name on my screen.
Colleen was quiet an extraordinarily long moment, so I looked up. She was grinning mischievously at me. "Stop it," I smiled at her, and she laughed uproariously back at me.
"What did I say?!" she smiled at me. I wiped my eyes as I giggled. "So… who you gonna pick?" she asked more seriously. I let out a stern breath through my nose as I made up my mind.
"Excuse me, young ladies," a man approached our table. He must have been at least 55, towering imposingly over the table in a pinstripe blue suit. "I believe you must be having far too much fun over here, all by your lonesome."
"Well, I suppose you'll just need to join us then," Colleen smiled up at him flirtatiously. "Though my friend seems dangerously low on her drink… I don't know what we should do about that." I looked down at my glass, still filled with bourbon, then back at Colleen with wide, incredulous eyes. But the man flagged down the bartender and made a swirling gesture in the air for another round.
"I'm sure I can help you ladies," he said, and he sat down beside Colleen. "Now what is so fantastically hilarious that you had to keep it to yourselves?"
"My friend Barbara is in love," Colleen dramatically said as she raised the dregs of her martini to me in a toast. The man smiled at me with raised eyebrows and pursed lips.
"That is funny," he commented, which provoked a laugh from me.
"A tragedy, to be sure. Now that I am all alone in my bachelorette ways, I have no idea what I'll do with myself," Colleen dramatically said as the bartender replaced our drinks.
"Become a spinster, I'm sure," the man smiled mischievously at her. "With seven cats and knitting needles."
"How dare you damn me to such a fortune?" Colleen smacked at his bicep with a playful smile.
"Perhaps I can rescue you from it," he grinned at her, sliding closer to her in the booth. But this was about all I could take. I raised my knee and hit the table so that the drinks all jostled and dropped. The man and Colleen jumped away from the table as if it had become a pit of snakes, and I did my best to suppress a smile.
"Oh goodness! Colleen! Your poor dress! Let's get you home," I rushed out of the booth, grabbing her bodily as fast as I could and toting her away from the man before he could demand her phone number.
"You did that on purpose," Colleen accused me as I led her down the stairs towards the exit.
"Sure did," I answered.
"Can't stand to see people like me getting gigs like yours?" Colleen grumped at me. I rolled my eyes up at the ceiling and turned to face her, grabbing her biceps sternly as I forced her to look at me.
"Colleen, you are smart. You are in graduate school. You're gorgeous, you're young, and you have a surprising amount of emotional intelligence," I lectured her. "You do not need to become a trophy wife or mistress."
"It worked out okay for you," she harumphed at me. I rolled my eyes back and turned away from her.
"You don't want to be like me," I said as I led her further. "You'll end up having no one to talk to on Saturday nights, hoping the people that are paid to be your friends can actually occasionally play the part." She smiled, then laughed at me. She stepped up beside me and wrapped her arm over my shoulders, even though I was taller than her.
"You're damn lucky I'm a good friend, then," Colleen said as we trudged together towards the exit. I smiled.
"Yes, I am," I answered. Once outside, I dialed for an Uber and waited while Colleen flirted with Curtis at the door. When the car arrived, I loaded Colleen into the car and closed the door behind her. The roar of a motorcycle drew my attention down the street, and an incredibly familiar motorcycle drove away towards Bludhaven as I climbed into the Uber myself.