Barbara came into the gym half an hour into their sparring. She watched them at first, inwardly commenting on their movements. She remembered how Damian sparred with Dick early on: his blue eyes stared intensely, a thin line forming between his brows; the boy was a picture of concentration as he attempted to anticipate Dick's moves. It wasn't the best tactic in dealing with the first Robin.
Oh no, when it came to fighting Dick, predicting isn't the way to win. The former Boy Wonder was born to move. He's been trained from a very young age to fall, to walk the tightrope, to fly. Bruce's martial arts training and his years of crime fighting only helped in reinforcing those earlier skills. Coupled with the fact that Dick had always been impulsive - there was simply no way to predict Dick's next move, not unless you were psychic.
And Damian was learning it. The line between his brows was gone now. His eyes though, retained that same intense stare as he watched, parried, and watched again. The newest Robin was figuring out how Dick's subtle muscle twitches showed what he was going to do next.
And Barbara knew those twitches. She and Dick had grown up together, spending the nights of their childhood fighting side by side with Batman. They'd also shared numerous kisses and touches over the years. She still remembered how he shuddered when she laid a kiss over the pulse point on his neck. She also remembered how his blue eyes darkened with lust when she trailed her fingers down his stomach to his...
She grabbed that thought and stuffed it into a box in her mind labeled, 'To think about later.' Then she went back to watching.
Dick had swept Damian's feet from under him, but the boy easily flipped backwards, thrusting his staff to tangle in Dick's legs to make the older man lose his footing. But Dick had seen the thrust and shoved his own staff to block it. A quick angled swipe and the staff was now aimed at empty air instead of Dick's knees.
It was a good move for Damian. One that Dick was obviously proud of by the grin on his face. It was one of the things Babs loved about Dick. What woman wouldn't fall for his boyish looks, his lithe, toned body, his blue, beautiful blue eyes? But Barbara saw more. She saw those eyes look at her with nothing but want in them. She saw that smile reach over and wipe away the dark thoughts in her head. She missed that smile.
The moment was shattered when Alfred came into the gym.
"The news, sirs," was all he said.
It was a long-abandoned office building. Its roof had collapsed during the quake and the owners didn't have enough funding left to repair the whole thing. And so the ruined building stood among the other ruined buildings in downtown Gotham collecting debris and passing homeless. Supposedly, someone rich enough to buy the lot it stood on could demolish the whole thing and erect a new high-rise, competing with the other high-rises in the business district. But no one cared enough in downtown Gotham. No one wanted to build a pretty building in a place where people loved to sully pretty buildings.
With the current news and a jaded point of view, one would think, 'At least the new owners wouldn't have to pay any demolition fees.'
"Four casualties," Dick murmured, watching the news report of the building explosion with a trained eye. "Several homeless were using the old Rheinson for shelter. They could've simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"In the middle of Downtown where criminals hide." Damian agreed beside him. Thoughts of further sparring were gone from both their faces. "What did Pennyworth find interesting in this instance?"
"The rental car parked by the side street, of course." Alfred replied.
Dick turned questioning eyes at the butler. "The rental?"
"You had it flagged as one of the vehicles that could have run down Ms. Freemont's car."
The former Boy Wonder was gone before anyone even realized he moved. Barbara gave an exasperated sigh at capes and their enthusiasm before following him into the Bunker.
She found him by the Crays already running the rental's plate. Of course, what else would a detective superhero do with a clue dangled in front of his nose? But she knew he'd be needing her help before the night is over. It had been their roles for years: he as the investigating cape and she the research goddess. She sighed again and rolled to a stop in front of the monitor. "What have you got?"
"The car was registered under a fake alias," he replied, eyes roving the monitor in front of him. "No surprise there. But thanks to Bruce's files, we know that alias is frequently used by one John Casey," his fingers continued clacking away at the keyboard.
"That name sounds familiar." Barbara said thoughtfully, her photographic memory already sifting through the myriad of names in her mind. As Oracle, she'd been witness to hundreds of names both criminal and cape. And while she may not have the processing speed of a computer, she retained just as much, if not more so, information as one. And she had enough experience to associate which was the right information needed at any given time.
But in this case, computer processor beat brain power. "He has a rap-sheet as tall as Clark. Money laundering, battery, domestic disputes, you name it." Dick pulled up Casey's mug shot as well as several police files. "In the more recent years he's been a hit man for some small time gangs."
Barbara quickly scanned the files. "If they've got all that on him, why isn't he in Blackgate?"
"Nothing stuck, apparently." Dick sighed. "Somehow, this guy has been getting off some serious charges. And the only explanation to that is-"
"He's got friends in high places," Barbara finished for him. "But the six million dollar question is: Who?"
"That's what I want to know." Dick stood from the rolling chair, every bit the Dark Knight as the original. Then he ruined the image by tossing her a smile and a wink before turning on his heel to the costume vault, his voice ringing clearly through the Bunker. "Batman and Robin are going to find out. Damian! Suit up!"