Florence entered her small Burrow office to find Grady with a rifle. Not an ideal sight on her last of work. She let out a string of curses while Grady looked on with eerie calm, one leg swung over her chair, rifle trained on the supposed accountant.

"He warned me you were good," Florence raised her arms in surrender. "I had no idea you had caught on. But dammit, how..." she hissed bitterly. Her eyes lowered, Grady could see her calculating her actions over the past few weeks.

She pumped the rifle. "It's nothing you did, Florence. You know Sherlock Holmes? Something about once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains however improbable... it was sort of like that. The thing with the thugs following me, the disrupted Burrow jobs... I know a distraction when I see one. Once I realized what was happening, the pieces fell into place. I caught on a little too late for me and a little too soon for you and Charlie."

"How long?" Florence's voice shook, eyes glued to the gun while she tried to buy time.

"Not soon enough to stop you leaking incriminating evidence to Maroni. But quick enough to lead him right where I wanted him to go for the past few weeks. His boys are on a wild goose chase this morning as a matter of fact. But you knew today was the day and they will come for me. But I'll be long gone by then. So I've lost. But not quite. I'll get away with my life."

Florence took a trembling breath. "Charlie thought he could break you. But he knew it wouldn't be easy. Told me there would be risk..." A single tear rolled down her angled cheek. "If you're going to do it, just do it," she whispered.

Grady rose from her chair, her eyes and her gun fixed on the redhead. "Not so fast," she said. "I know you've been trying to find the identity of my partner in crime as it were. I need to know if you found out. And I warn you, I can spot a liar."

"Why should I tell you anything?" Grady had to admire the bravery she managed despite her shaking hands.

"If you tell me the truth, I may be inclined not to kill you," Grady rolled her eyes, she needed to speed this up. Her time was precious.

"I could tell you and you'll kill me anyway," Florence protested.

Grady fired into the floor beside her foot. Florence shrieked and fell over, tears flowing freely now.

"No," she sobbed. "I don't know. I've had some hunches, but nothing for certain."

"And who knows about your hunches?" Grady pumped the rifle again to reload.

"No one," Florence wailed. "What use are hunches? All Charlie and Maroni care about is you."

How wrong she was. Clever, but not nearly clever enough for this game. Grady took a few steps closer.

"I told Charlie I wouldn't kill you. And I intend to keep my word. This has been a humbling experience and it seems I'm growing soft." She dropped the shell from the gun and spun it around so she handled the end that Florence presumed was less lethal. "I'll leave you to Burrow justice. They're a fair group of lads."

Florence's eyes went wide. "What are you-"

But she had no time time to finish. Grady swung the butt of the gun and Florence dropped unconscious to the floor. Her red hair pooled with the blood leaking from her forehead. Grady stared. Wondered why she wouldn't kill the girl. But she couldn't afford to second guess now. She had two more visits to make and both would be more difficult than this.


"Those rat bastards," Connor sighed. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "And you're sure we're safe through all this?"

"Keep away from the shop this evening and it'll all work out." Grady fiddled with Fionn's leash. "You're in good hands with Oswald. But you know... as time goes by, keep an eye on him. He does get bored."

"I don't like this Grady," Connor crossed his arms. "I don't like this a bit."

She thumped his arm. "Think of it as a promotion. Time for you to step up."

"I don't have your brains and you know it," he smirked.

"Well, not many do, do they?" Grady chuckled. "You're alright though. You'll be fine. Look, this situation is shit and I don't want to stretch it out any longer than I have to," She handed him Fionn's leash. "Look out for him, I've had him for years. Or Oswald will take him. One of you though, please. Just do me this one thing."

"Of course. He's a good boy isn't he," Connor fluffed Fionn's face and the dog groaned, sensing his owner's distress.

He stared at her with his droopy dog eyes and she felt a peculiar scratching in the back of her throat. Oh no. She wouldn't cry over a dog.

It was so sour. She had come further in a few months than she had in years. But perhaps it was too much too soon. She had made a promise to herself long ago that if she met defeat, she would accept it with grace. Fionn whined, as if he could read her mind.

"Alright, quiet you. You'll be just fine." God. Her eyes were burning.

"Get over here Grady," Connor scooped her into a clumsy bear hug. "I've known you since we were kids, you're not getting out of this. Go make our ancestors proud. You'll own the place within the week."

"You do the same," Grady wiggled out of his grip. "Make Gotham sorry for underestimating the Burrow, yeah?"

"Of course," Connor winked.

"Well then." Grady turned her back on both of them. Shut her ears to Fionn's cries. She caught a cab out of the Burrow. Watched the dirty streets twist by for the last time in who knew how long.


They came for Grady as the sun set. And when Maroni got the call, he wasn't entirely surprised.

"Little shit left a note on the door," his man barked into the phone. "Says 'gone fishing.'"

"Goddammit," Maroni growled. "Well it looks like we drove her out and that's what counts. Burn the place."

Hundreds of clocks were splashed with motor oil, the smell overwhelming the metallic tang and grease that had clung to the shop since it was opened. They found every televisions in the surveillance room smashed to glittering pieces. All traces of useful information destroyed. The men pocketed some gadgets as they made their rounds with the fuel but there was little else that interested them.

Flames licked at stacks of blue prints, swallowed dusty old sci-fi novels, and the gears in the many clocks started to melt. As the mechanical innards slowed, the ticking of time distorted. Hand carved and assembled masterpieces that were fading out of style with the passing years turned to piles of ash and charred bits. There were three small clocks of great importance and beautiful design that escaped. They had been stowed in careful newspaper nests in a suitcase beside some particularly genius inventions and a stack of old photos. The real loss was the grandfather clock, too big to move. It stood proudly in the center of the shop and like a captain, it went down with it's ship.


Oswald liked to think he knew Grady. As well as anyone living knew her anyway. That did not mean he trusted her. When she acted soft the last time he had seen her, softer than he knew she could be, it had frightened him. Whether he was frightened for her or himself or the both of them, he couldn't say. All he knew was that she had clung to him like she was drowning and it had disturbed him.

He had been on his way out the door when he said: "tell me what you're hiding" for what felt like the hundredth time.

There was a storm inside of her. He saw it in the grey murk of her eyes. "Don't go anywhere near the Burrow tomorrow. Alright?" she asked.

He took her by the shoulders, gave her a shake. "Tell me what this is about. If you're in trouble, how can I help you when I have no what's going on?"

Grady shook her head, wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Or maybe you're leading me in to trouble," he said coldly. "And what a fine trap it would be."

Now she met his eyes and how they flashed. He would have smiled if he wasn't trying to be severe with her.
"Don't you dare," she grumbled.

"Tell me then," he softened. Tried rubbing her shoulders instead. "What's happening Grady? You swore you'd stop making plans without me. Can you blame me for being suspicious."

"Circumstances I couldn't imagine..." she muttered. She had almost told him. It had been on the tip of her tongue. "Oh my lad..." she sighed. "I'm going to need you to trust me. Just this once."

He considered. Then tipped up her chin. "Alright," he said. "I took a chance on you once before. It was the right decision."

"Good." Her smile had been weak though.

And now she had called him to find her at some obscure location on the outskirts of Gotham. A road on the edge of the air field. He would have to be an idiot to not have a sense of what was going on.

She stood on the side of the road. Wearing her ridiculous jacket with a suitcase standing sentinel on either side of her. She looked like a runaway child looking to hitch a ride.

"Grady, what's this about?" he demanded. "What the hell is going on?"

"I knew you'd be furious," She had the grace at least, to look embarrassed. "We had a mole. It was Florence, she was sent by Charlie. She sent information to Maroni, showed how the Burrow was mobilized against him."

Oswald cursed and raked a hand through his hair so it stood at strange angles. "So what now?" he gestured at the suitcases. "You're going to cut and run?"

"Don't be an idiot," she snapped. "I caught on in just enough time to direct what she was sending. I made sure they knew it was me and kept you well away from it. If you go to Maroni tonight, you can give him this," she handed over a small stack of documents. "Some details of our future plots. You can look clever, pretend like you discovered them. Tell him you worked it out with Connor and you're going to take control of the Burrow. Or you can walk if you really want to. Connor doesn't believe it, but he can handle the Burrow on his own. Maroni was only interested in me. They're probably ransacking my shop as we speak."

He rifled through the papers, but couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. "Grady, what are you going to do?"

"I've got to leave," she gave a helpless shrug. "What else can I do?"

"Ridiculous," he crammed the papers in his pockets. "If you had told me when you found out, we could have come up with something else. Finished Maroni if that's what it came to. Ahead of schedule, but I would have thought of something."

She shook her head sadly. "That's mad and you know it. There was no other way. This is why I couldn't tell you, I knew you'd try something crazy. I made a mistake and I know how to accept defeat. I'm not so sure you do." She gave a small smirk.

He stared at her, the dark circles under her eyes, the hollowness to her smile. He should have figured it out. "You could have easily set me up instead," he realized.

She sighed and looked skyward at a passing plane. "That depends on what you mean by easily."

It was ironic he supposed, that this had been the thing he couldn't predict. The act that had escaped his notice. He had once given a lot of thought as to how he would use Grady and then kill her. When the idea lost it's appeal, he planned how he would keep her in check and trick her into helping him. Instead she had protected him in secret because she had chosen to. It had never occurred to him that such a thing was possible.

"So that's it then," he said. "I'm just going to lose you now."

"Sorry," she shuffled her feet, still looking at the sky, blinking a lot more than was natural.

He pushed back her hood so he could touch her wild curls.

"Not as predictable as you thought, am I?" she joked.

"Grady, you're the furthest thing from predictable," he said. "Just when I think I understand you, you throw everything off. The Grady I first met would have framed me in a second to save her skin. I don't understand."

"I guess I'm not the Grady you first met anymore," she muttered into his shoulder. "I don't even understand me these days. But you've come closer than anyone else has so when the time came... I couldn't drop you just so I could escape. Just couldn't. I told you I wanted to work with you because I thought you could take Gotham by storm. That hasn't changed. And I told you I didn't want to do this alone, that hasn't changed either. See what I'm saying?"

"I suppose." His eyes scanned her nose, the gap in her teeth, trying to memorize them before they were gone. Grady had become such a constant it didn't seem possible. "Where will you go?" he asked.

"Ireland," she said. "Dublin, of course. Always wanted to see the old country..."

"Of course," he said. "And here I was, saying you weren't predictable... look, Grady if I... I mean once I destroy Maroni, it will be safe for you to come back. Won't it?"

She grinned. "Aye, it would. You think I let you off the hook out of the goodness of my heart alone? Nah, you have work to do. If you want me back here, that is. Mean time, I think you'll have deliveries of some useful tools from a dependable Irish supplier. Some more umbrellas perhaps."

He kissed her in a way that was different than it had ever been before. Something strange that he didn't understand had passed between them.

"You'll be back Grady," he said against her ear. "I've gotten to like you a lot. Might even adore you at times."

"Alright now," she mumbled. "It's weapons I'll be sending you, not love letters."

"It's weapons that will make Maroni pay," he said.

A cab pulled up behind them. Grady heaved a sigh. "That's me..."

She turned back to him. "Take care of Fionn for me?"

"The club could use a guard dog," he nodded.

"Good lad..." she ran a hand through his hair. "I will miss you terribly."

She pulled a scrap of paper out and tucked it in his jacket pocket. "My new address," she said. "Top secret, that is. Memorize it then eat it or burn it or something."

He kissed her cheek. "I assume you'll run Dublin within the month. But I'll make sure you come home Grady," he said.

"I know you will," she swallowed and puffed out her cheeks. "So tears would be absolutely stupid, right? I've got a plane to catch."

"You'll call, of course?" he said. "On some obscure, untraceable landline on a... sheep farm or something else really Irish?"

"Of course," she said. "Give 'em hell, my lad," she squeezed his arm once and then collected her suitcases. Grady disappeared into the cab without a backward glance.

Oswald leaned against the car and watched the sky for some time. He had no way to know which plane was Grady's, but he watched until he felt like he had seen it pass overhead.

Grady felt like a child when her stomach dropped at take off. She had never been on plane. Never ventured far outside the city. Gotham was a grim and murky sight as it passed out of her vision, but there was something beautiful about it. It was a sharp contrast to what waited for her. Her grandfather had told her stories about Ireland since she was old enough to listen. The land had become something almost mythical to her, like it couldn't really exist. Perhaps it was just because her eyes were used to Burrow dirt but the island that appeared almost as if by magic from beneath he clouds was greener than anything she had seen in her life. Maybe there really was magic here. Either way, she planned to make a go of it. Dublin was a fraction of the size of her city, how long could it take to learn it's secrets? Yes, this would do nicely. Grady felt certain she would like it here. But Gotham would always be home.


And that's the end of Tinker.

I hope you don't feel it was too sad of an ending. Personally, I think Dublin is an awesome city and I don't feel too bad that Grady has to live there.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and read Tinker! This is really been the first fic I've written and it's been a lot of fun and a great learning experience. Maybe I will write another in the future? I know I've been able to have some great conversations with a couple of you so please drop me a message whenever you want, I'll still be around reading other fics! I hope people keep writing in the Gotham fandom with the hiatus coming up. And last, I really hope you've enjoyed this fic.