Something is going on with Tim.

Bruce does not have the evidence to prove it, nor true reasonable doubt, but it is Tuesday morning, and Bruce is sitting in his office at Wayne Enterprises, thinking about how he has not seen much of Tim since Saturday night. Since the day he came home from witnessing Luthor's conviction.

The few days following the trial have, strangely, been going quite well. Metropolis is celebrating, it seems, rejoicing the man being put away, even if they did not know how badly they wanted it until now. His children have yet to stop making jokes about how much richer Bruce will be now that he's not paying to help clean up the city after Luthor's evil schemes. But Tim is not joining in. He should be on the front lines, chattering about how much his life has been made easier now that he doesn't have to suffer through business events that Luthor has also chosen to attend. But he's not.

Or, if he is, Bruce has not heard anything about it because he has not heard anything from Tim in nearly three days. He has work to do, office whiteboards lined with points he needs to incorporate into his responses at an interview next week, but instead, Bruce's thoughts keep drifting to Tim. He does not know why yet, but he has the vaguest of suspicions that he has made a mistake of some kind.

The door creaks open hesitantly, making him sit up a little straighter in the chair, and the person who has been plaguing his mind for hours shuffles in. In his clenched hands is a thin beige folder.

Tim looks like a mess, dark discoloration under his eyes and frizz in his usually sleek hair. He is tightly wound, as if trying his best not to vibrate out of his own skin, and Bruce has seen this posture before on him. It never means anything good.

"Something interesting happened at Luthor's trial," he says, breathlessly.

Bruce's heart sinks directly into his stomach.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," he laughs, strangled, "It's not about what I did."

The media buzz surrounding the trial in the last few days has been nothing but the normal post-murder speculation as to what other crimes Luthor has secretly committed over the years. But that's all it has been, speculation, and Bruce isn't sure what else could have possibly happened if no one else is talking about it.

"Okay, get this," Tim begins, striding directly up to Bruce's desk, still clutching that folder like his life depends on it. Bruce closes his eyes for a moment, but it is not long enough to prepare himself. "I'm sitting with Clark and Lois on the bench, minding my business, like you told me to, when Lana Lang and another girl come over and sit next to us."

"The Lexcorp CTO," Bruce says, for clarification, but there are not many other people by that name.

Tim's face twitches, almost amused. "CEO," he corrects, before continuing and plowing past Bruce's raised eyebrows of surprise.

"They say hello, Clark and Lois say hello back, the girl's name is Annabeth, it's whatever."

Judging by the way Tim's cadence is unsteadily picking up speed, it's not 'whatever' and Bruce still has questions about the fact that Lana Lang is now the head of the company, but Tim keeps going and he cannot do anything but watch the impending wreck.

"They bring the insurance agent, Bryant, up to the stand. He gives his testimony, good stuff. Luthor says he wants to represent himself and gets up there, claims Bryant isn't remembering things correctly because of his Alzheimer's," Tim rambles, starting to pace back and forth, "The jury goes uh oh, what if Luthor's right. Bryant gets nervous, obviously, but instead of arguing or giving up he starts looking into the audience."

Bruce still doesn't understand where he's going with this, because Luthor is in jail so what could possibly be the problem here?

"I turn to see who he's staring at, and it's Annabeth. She looks at Bryant, shakes her head, and Bryant relaxes. After that, the prosecution pulls out this report, dismisses Luthor's theory, and everything's fine. But Annabeth, she knew Bryant," Tim says, looking him directly in the eye, "She knew him well enough to calm him down with just a look."

"Is she a family member?" Bruce frowns, "A friend, or—"

Tim's eyes gleam and he drops his folder, open-faced, down onto the desk with a loud smack.

"Or a Lexcorp intern."

Bruce stills, suddenly understanding his implication. A cloud of something that feels vaguely like doom settles above his head. All of those questions swirling around in his brain about the anonymous tip of evidence return in an instant, but he shakes them free. No, it's not nearly enough to start jumping to conclusions.

"Annabeth Chase, age twenty, born in California, reported missing at age seven?" Bruce reads, eyebrows raising high on his face as he gets further and further down the page, "No school history from then until age twelve, currently attends a small private college called New Rome University as an architecture major. How did she get the internship?"

Tim shrugs helplessly.

"Her resume and portfolio aren't online, but I'm assuming her work is impressive," he guesses, "And that's just the first page. There's a ton of weird stuff in her childhood, but that's a later problem. This is about the last two months."

Against his better judgment, Bruce flips the page, seeing the words 'kidnapped' and 'cross-country' just before Tim snatches the file back.

"Okay, let me…" he trails off, looking hastily around the room, until he spots his target. Grabbing a spare marker, he hurries over to the whiteboard, running an eraser all over Bruce's hard work before he can get the chance to protest, and pins Chase's picture in the center with a magnet. "Let me show you something."

Bruce watches him draw a long horizontal streak with a few tallies that he instantly recognizes as a timeline.

"This is what we know for a fact," Tim starts, writing brief event summaries under the small vertical lines, "Annabeth starts at Lexcorp. The Sky Sentry demo is a disaster. The Jada Airways planes blow up. Lois gets an envelope of evidence. She and Clark do some digging, interview Bryant, publish their article. Luthor gets arrested. At some point after this, I'm assuming the Lexcorp board elects Lana as CEO. Luthor's lawyers fire him, and then three days later, he goes to trial and loses."

Tim looks back at him for a moment to make sure he's following, but nearly all of this is old news. Bruce will admit, though, that there are still a few holes, like who dropped off the evidence, and why the lawyers backed out, but he doesn't understand how Annabeth Chase will be the answer because Bruce is starting to see a different picture.

"Just because all of these events started after Chase joined the company doesn't automatically make her responsible," he tells Tim, who shakes his head emphatically.

"The demo and the planes, they were both PR nightmares for Lexcorp, and normally their stock would've dropped like crazy, but it didn't go nearly as low as expected," Tim points out, "Why? Because Lana fixed it. She did all these press releases and interviews with the media, actually apologized for Luthor's mess and then announced all these wild tech projects to help the community."

"The solar panels," Bruce winces, remembering how well they had done in the market.

"Exactly. Now I have no idea how she managed to become her assistant, but I asked Lois after the first day of the trial, and she said that at the charity gala, Annabeth told her she was specifically Lana's intern. That means they had probably been working closely together starting by the time of the demo, at least."

"You said Lang is CEO now," Bruce points out, gently. Tim is beyond smart, but Bruce knows his tendency to go down rabbit holes. "Which means she had the most to gain. She could have orchestrated both events so that she'd be able to pick up after Luthor and get in the board's good graces."

"Sure, but Clark told you someone let something slip that started this whole investigation thing in the first place," Tim argues, "If it was Lana, then he would've just said it was her. But he didn't, he said it was nobody."

Bruce massages his temples. "How many times do I have to tell you not to go through my messages, Tim?"

His son rolls his eyes. "I didn't read everything, just searched a few keywords," he says, brushing it off, "Anyway, whoever slipped had to have been high enough at Lexcorp that they even knew about it."

"Like Lang."

"Or, someone close enough to have access to that information," Tim stresses, "Annabeth went from intern to personal assistant. If Lana or someone on the board thought that the planes were Luthor's fault, she could have easily known."

"There is also the chance that Lang orchestrated the planes to blame Luthor and take his spot, and Chase accidentally mentioned it to Clark," Bruce counters.

"But Clark talked to Lana about it, right? On July first? If she lied to him at any point, he would've been able to tell. And, that's that night he and Lois came to the manor and said they got the envelope. Annabeth could have dropped it off while Clark was busy."

Bruce can't deny it, Tim has a point there. Lana hadn't been free to sneak the evidence into their apartment because she had been with Clark. But that doesn't mean there aren't other ways to do it: a courier, paying someone, an accomplice. Which, now that he's thinking about it, could be Annabeth. Bruce purses his lips.

"Lang has motive," he says, instead of all those thoughts, "The intern does not."

"That we know of," Tim insists, then circles another event on the timeline, further down, "There's also the lawyers dropping out. We don't know why they did that, but at the trial, Lana hadn't known either. Lois said she talked to them, and they said she'd find out eventually."

"Haimes and Bereda would only pull support if they knew backing Luthor would hurt them in the long run," Bruce says thoughtfully.

Tim nods. "I feel like they could've easily fabricated evidence to get Luthor out of the murder charge, bribed the mechanic or Bryant or something, so I still can't figure out why they thought they'd lose," he continues. Bruce would have expected him to look frustrated, but instead there's an insatiably curious gleam in his eyes that makes him nervous. Tim smirks. "I bet Annabeth knows."

They are back at the beginning, and Bruce has to admit that Tim is making a case that is not completely unfounded. There are holes in his own Lang theory, and while Tim's theory has more, they are not holes as much as they are simply unanswered questions.

"Do you have any evidence?" he asks, as a last-ditch attempt to convince Tim otherwise.

Tim immediately scowls. "I checked her financials, and there's nothing suspicious. No weird credit card activity, no withdrawals, or deposits besides her biweekly paycheck. She spends money mostly on food and rent, and she hasn't paid for any transportation except the occasional city bus. Nothing to Virginia, where Bryant lives, unless she's using cash. She's got a library card which she uses pretty often, but she mostly just reads architecture books." Suddenly Tim brightens. "She did check out a law book or two."

"That's not enough, especially if nothing else raises red flags," Bruce sighs, and his son wilts.

"She had weird vibes though," Tim mutters.

"You believe she sent Luthor to jail based on weird vibes?" Bruce repeats, suddenly tired.

Tim crosses his arms but doesn't deny the claim. He doesn't get defensive either, just stands still, holding his ground. "I also think she got Lana elected CEO," he adds.

Bruce looks past his son, at the mess he's made of the whiteboard while speaking, all those red lines crisscrossing between each other, connecting events to Chase's profile and Chase to other stick figures of Lang and Clark and Lois and Luthor. It's a complete mess, a tangled web of mostly speculation and near-outlandish theories, but somewhere in there is the truth.

As much as Bruce would like for all of this to be some sort of miracle, karmic justice coming to claim Luthor after years of crimes, he knows that's not the way the world works. With no one to stop them, bad people continue to get away with bad things. It's the reason for his whole crusade.

Bruce doesn't believe Batman is a true pillar of good, a superhero in the truest sense of the word, but he does know that he is necessary. He helps because he has to, because the city needs someone to bring people to justice when the law isn't enough. He can't say his motivations are entirely pure. Sometimes, less now than years ago, he goes out at night because punching is the only thing to quiet the anger. Others he knows have their own reasons, some more altruistic than others, but at the end of the day, they do it to help people. He also knows that that is not always the case.

Someone has orchestrated Luthor's downfall, and whether it's Lang or Chase or someone else altogether, Bruce needs to find out why.

"Okay, we try Lang first," he says finally. Tim immediately starts to protest but Bruce puts a hand up to interrupt him. "We talk to her, see if she's hiding anything. If I'm wrong, at the very least, she might have information on Chase."

Bruce very badly wants to not be wrong, because Tim being right means somewhere out there is a barely young adult, with motivations unknown, who possesses the skills and intellect to create a plan to topple an egomaniacal billionaire supervillain and the sheer audacity to follow through with it.

Tim nods ever so slowly, but Bruce can tell he has not let go of his theory.

"Okay, fine," he says, "But it can't be us, too suspicious. Should we get Clark to talk to her?"

"Clark is too biased," Bruce grimaces slightly, "I also don't trust his interrogation skills. I'll call Lois."

This time, Tim grimaces. "I think she and Lana are friends now, I doubt she'll agree."

Bruce resolutely ignores how that revelation is a stab in his Lang ousted Luthor theory, because Lois doesn't trust easily and them being on good terms means Lang does not come off as a suspect. Instead, he and Tim stare at each other, trying to think of their other options.

Tim raises his eyebrows, suddenly arriving at a conclusion, and Bruce sighs, realizing that he's right. Swallowing down his fear that he is going to end up being in the wrong about all of this, Bruce picks up his office phone and upon Tim's prompting nod, dials the extension.

By some stroke of luck, Lana Lang publicly announces her new position as Lexcorp's new chief executive officer the very next day, lighting another spark in the media. Tim knows the news outlets and business magazines are all falling over each other trying to get an interview, a statement, anything, about her plans for the company and thoughts on overcoming Luthor's tainted legacy, but Bruce, and more importantly, Wayne Enterprises, has more sway than any of them.

It had been a little difficult to set up, but two days after Tim spilled his guts to Bruce about everything, Lana Lang has a two-hour slot in her calendar blocked off just for them. Not that the woman herself knows that.

Bruce parks their nondescript black car in a hidden section of the alley and turns off the engine. He hands Tim one half of a pair of earbuds, before placing the other in his ear and calibrating the volume. Pressing a key on a propped-open laptop, he clears his throat.

"Testing," Bruce says.

"I made it, Bruce. I know it works," a dry voice sounds into Tim's right ear. "Remind me again how this is supposed to be less suspicious."

"It's just a casual lunch," Tim replies, reclining the passenger seat to stretch his legs, "CEO to CEO."

"Ah, yes," Lucius Fox says, "Just meeting up with my business rival to discuss confidential company secrets, nothing wrong with that at all."

"It doubles as a peace offering," Bruce points out, ignoring the sarcasm, "A gesture of good faith now that Luthor's gone."

Lucius sighs, and the audio doesn't crackle in the slightest, a testament to his technological ability.

"Let's just get this over with, I have reports to read."

Bruce presses another key, muting their microphones, and settles in to wait for Lana to arrive at the restaurant. Tim glances over at the man for a moment.

He's been surprisingly calm about the whole thing, but Tim has also neglected to mention some of the more interesting points he's found in his investigation, like Luthor's apparent stab wound. Lana, while she has the most motivation, doesn't seem like the type. And with everything she had said during the trial, all those questions to Clark and Lois, there's no way she had orchestrated it.

It's Annabeth, he knows it is. He might not have proof, but everything in his gut points to her. The plan, however it played out, is genius and Tim needs to know how she did it. Bringing up the stab wound, and Annabeth's strange past as a runaway, possibly violent child would only get in the way of that. She could be dangerous, and Tim knows the risk of not sharing that information with Bruce, but right now, he's willing to take it.

Besides, all that potential genius and all she had done with it was take down a supervillain and introduce a much better replacement, so she couldn't be evil, right? She could have just left the company headless, flailing wildly, trying to recover and hurting hundreds of people's jobs in the process, but she didn't. In Tim's book, that means something.

"Lana, it's good to see you. You look well."

Lucius's voice finally comes through, indicating that the woman has joined him at the table.

"Likewise, Lucius. It was a surprise to see this on my calendar."

"Ah, well, it's been an eventful couple of weeks, I thought you might need a break from all the media."

"So, this is a rescue, huh? That's funny, I was expecting an interrogation."

Tim grimaces and looks over to Bruce, but the man's face stays clear.

Lucius laughs, and it comes out a hair nervous. "In what sense?"

"Well, you knew how Luthor operated, maybe you're curious about how I'm going to run the company."

"I am, but not for any competitive reason. We all know what Luthor was like. I'm hoping you're—"

"I'm not Luthor. I want to be the best, and I'm still going to get whatever edge I can over WE, but I'm not sacrificing my morals to do it."

Tim looks pointedly at Bruce, trying to convey just how much he told him so. Bruce ignores it.

"You've never run a company before. It can change people. That kind of power changes people."

"You're a CEO too, Lucius, did it change you?"

"I—yes, I started as a scientist. I still am, at heart, but I've had to make a lot of hard decisions."

"He's getting off track," Bruce mutters, "Feeling guilty."

"We are making him lie to her face," Tim points out, "Can you blame him?"

"When Luthor was still CEO, he would shut down my ideas all the time for his, saying that they'd make the company a lot more money. He was right, but his ideas always led to a lot more destruction. My job is still to make money, but I have other priorities too, like building things that actually make a positive difference."

"I told you," Tim outright says, "It's not her."

"No, that just means she didn't do it for the power," Bruce argues.

"She didn't do it at all," he huffs back.

"I believe you. Care to share any of those ideas?"

Lana laughs. "Why, so you can steal them?"

Lucius returns it, chuckling slightly. "I'm only joking. I apologize for the surprise meeting. We don't have to discuss Luthor or the company."

"Then what's left to talk about?"

"What about your transition? I bet it's been pretty stressful after everything."

"Yes, it's been a little hectic. Calming the employees, trying to figure out what else Luthor had his claws in, you know, I almost didn't come to this."

"What happened to no Luthor talk?" Lucius says, dryly, making her snort, "But at least the media's been nothing but positive about your takeover."

"At least," Lana says, sighing, "I also still have to find a replacement for my old position, so that means double the work for me."

"You don't have anyone to help you out with that?"

"I did have a temporary assistant, but she returned home after the trial, too much excitement. I don't blame her. Besides, I'd prefer to screen the candidates myself, make sure nobody's trying to be the next Luthor."

Tim straightens in his seat immediately at the new information.

"Luthor goes to jail, so Annabeth decides she doesn't need to be here anymore?" he muses out loud, glancing over.

Bruce's jaw tightens, but he doesn't say anything.

"No, it makes sense," Tim continues, gaining traction as he gives it more thought, "Why stick around? Her work is done and there's nothing left for her to do. If she really was here for the internship and just managed to become Lana's assistant in the process, why wouldn't she keep that job? She'd be crazy high up now that Lana's the head, so why else would she quit?"

A complex, pained expression crosses Bruce's face. "Tim," he starts, and for a second Tim thinks he's finally going to agree, but he changes his tune at the last moment, "Lang could be lying, hiding her tracks. Chase quitting could be a part of that. Maybe the girl took a bribe to stay quiet and left—"

"I'm telling you, that's not what happened!" Tim argues, not understanding why Bruce refuses to see that he's making sense, "I saw her at the trial, the way she smiled when they sentenced him. It wasn't Lana, it was—"

A soft knock on the tinted glass interrupts him, and he and Bruce freeze, falling silent immediately. Slowly, they turn their heads to look out the driver seat window, but the sight does not make them sigh in relief. In fact, Bruce tenses as he rolls down the glass.

"What have I told you about eavesdropping?" Bruce says, looking pointedly at Clark.

"I wasn't!" the man replies, affronted, "I was just in the area and recognized your car."

With super-vision, most likely. Tim would call him out on lying through his teeth, but Clark is carrying a hefty bag of pastries, oil leaking a little through the bottom. Beside him, Lois has a cup of iced coffee in her hand, and they are clearly just coming back from somewhere.

Lois peers into the car, and Tim should really have thought to hide the laptop because he can see the instant she recognizes the technology, giving them a suspicious glare.

"What are they listening to?"

"Clark," Bruce warns, but it's too late.

The man in question frowns, confused.

"Why are you eavesdropping on Lana and Lucius's conversation?"

"We're not!" Tim blurts out.

"They're not," Lois agrees, narrowing her eyes, "Because they set it up. Why?"

Tim lasts approximately seven seconds, which actually isn't half-bad, before pointing to Bruce.

"He thinks it's Lana's fault Luthor went to jail."

Clark gives Bruce an almost disappointed look, then, with a voice someone would use on a young child, says, "It's Luthor's fault Luthor went to jail."

Tim smothers a laugh when the man gives him a harsh glare. Bruce then reaches over, and knowing it's being recorded for later, mutes Lana and Lucius's conversation.

"No, like, he thinks Lana planned the whole thing," Tim says, helping, but really, he's just trying to get one of them to make Bruce see reason, "Gave you guys the evidence and all that."

Clark's face scrunches in confusion as Lois outright laughs.

"That envelope of evidence, in addition to the documents of the murder, also had a recording of Luthor on the phone with a safety check company, where he basically admitted to cutting costs on proper material and falsifying safety reports," Lana explains, and Tim can see the moment it dawns on Bruce that his theory won't hold, "Lana played that clip for the board, it's what got Luthor fired in the first place. If she had that recording all along, why would she give it to us anonymously, just so we could hand it back to her?"

"Where did the recording even come from?" Bruce presses.

"Annabeth," Tim mutters, under his breath, but both Bruce and Clark hear it.

"What?" Clark asks, startled.

"It was Annabeth," he repeats, ignoring Bruce's sharp look.

"How would she even get her hands on that?" Lois says, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know," Tim breathes, thoughts swirling with new theories. He's found another piece of the puzzle, but he doesn't know where it fits just yet. "What exactly did she say when she told you about the planes?"

Clark blinks. "How did you know it was her?" he asks, surprised, but then sighs, "Just that Luthor was in trouble with the board, that they suspected he had something to do with the failure."

"And she wasn't lying?"

"Her heartbeat was steady," Clark nods, frowning, "Listen, Tim, she seemed like a nice girl. Smart, sure, but I really don't think—"

"It was," Tim declares, because now he's absolutely sure.

If the board did actually believe Luthor was responsible, then what she said wouldn't be a lie. And if that was the case, there's a chance that Annabeth had been the one to make them think that in the first place, so she could pass along the information, and if that was true, then she's even craftier than he originally had thought, and Tim really needs to meet her.

"Do you remember her voice?" he asks suddenly, looking at Clark, "What's she doing right now?"

Bruce gives him a warning glance, as Clark shifts uncomfortably.

"Please," Tim tries, "I need to know, just in case."

Under his intense stare, Clark finally relents, closing his eyes to reach out. His face twitches. "It sounds like she's at home, and there's a boy there," he starts, then pauses, and a faint smile crosses his lips, "They're having a coloring competition with a little girl, who's winning." Clark opens his eyes, frowning again. "This is an invasion of privacy, Tim. Annabeth hasn't done anything wrong."

Tim sits back in his seat, crossing his arms. Bruce looks tiredly over at him, then back out the window.

"I'll take him back home," he tells Clark and Lois, "We're done here."

They nod, backing away, and Lois even gives him an apologetic shrug, before the glass rolls all the way up. Bruce turns to face him, mouth open, ready to probably spout some lecture about how he's taking this whole thing too far, so Tim just reaches over and unmutes the conversation to interrupt him.

"Hello? Hello, Bruce? Tim?" Lucius's voice comes through, exasperated.

Bruce winces and turns on their mic. "Yes?"

"Lana left five minutes ago."

"Sorry," Tim says, grimacing, "We just got chewed out by Clark."

"Good," Lucius huffs, startling them both, "Because Lana was very nice and I'm never doing this again."

Something is going on with Tim.

This time, Bruce knows exactly what it is.

It's been a few days since the entire eavesdropping fiasco, and Tim has been sulking around the manor. Bruce pretends he does not see the poorly hidden theory board that he has refused to disassemble every time he enters Tim's room to check up on him.

He also knows that it is somewhat his fault. Clark and Lois may not see his reasoning, but Bruce does. The pieces fit together when arranged, even if many of them are still missing. Bruce is the one who doesn't want to acknowledge the full picture, but Tim already has, and he's not scared of it. He is, however, upset that no one will back him up. He might not say it out loud, but Bruce knows his children very well.

Tim isn't going to give up. He's just going to resort to more extreme methods to find out the truth. Bruce is wary of genius children. This is a fact. It is also a fact that Tim is one of them.

Bruce

I think Tim is right, about the intern.

Can you help him prove it?

Clark

I'm sorry, Lois and I are handling a major story.

It's really important and I don't think we have the time right now.

I'm really sorry, Bruce, you know I would if I could.

Bruce

Anything I can help with?

Clark

I'm giving Lois the phone, she wants to talk.

Bruce

Ok.

Lois

No, we're handling this on our own.

It's big.

Bruce

Bigger than Luthor?

Lois

It is about Luthor.

That's all I can say until the article is released.

Bruce

Ok.

Tell Clark I'll keep an eye out for it.

Lois

He laughed.

And Bruce?

Bruce

Yeah?

Lois

I think Tim is right too.

"I think it's about time we paid Miss Chase a visit."

Tim blinks up at Bruce, unsure if he's actually heard those words correctly.

"Are you serious?" he demands, "What changed your mind?"

Bruce's lips twitch. "You did." He continues, upon Tim's incredulous look. "I know I've been hesitant to believe it—"

"In denial," Tim can't help but snark.

"In denial," Bruce repeats, allowing the correction and making Tim's smirk falter, "But your theory makes sense. I had my reservations, but it wasn't because of you." He pauses. "Well, it was because of you, but that's only because I know what you're like, and the idea that there is, another—"

Tim snorts, finally getting it. "You're scared of her," he says, laughing, "The big bad Batman—"

"Wary," Bruce corrects, but he looks a little amused, "I am wary of her. Her motivations are still unclear."

"You still think it's part of some evil, world-enslaving plot?" Tim asks, raising his eyebrows, "Because all she really did was get rid of a bad guy in a mostly legal, mostly nonviolent manner, which is, honestly, better than how we usually do it."

"I'm not worried about this plot so much as what could come next," Bruce points out, then frowns, "What exactly do you mean by mostly nonviolent?"

Tim plasters a completely fake, completely innocent smile on his face. "I'm just leaving room for error. I still have a ton of questions. Which is why we have to talk to her. I need to know how she did it."

"Not why?" Bruce asks, raising an eyebrow.

Tim shrugs. "That's more your department than mine."

Bruce's face twitches, exasperated. "I'll ready the flight for San Francisco."

Tim can't help it, he smirks. "New York."

Bruce gives him a long undecipherable look. "You didn't tell Clark to listen in because you thought he'd hear something incriminating, did you? You wanted her location."

None of Annabeth's recent purchases have included transportation, and while that means Tim still has no idea how she's getting around, if she really just has that much cash on hand, that also means he has no way of knowing where she went after quitting Lexcorp. California is the first assumption, but he has the documents saying that she's already run away from home once, and Tim isn't sure what her relationship with her family is like.

The chance of her confessing to someone and Clark happening to pick up on it had been infinitesimal, but the chance of hearing a clue, like a possible boyfriend with a younger sister who both reside in New York City, had been much higher.

(Tim has to give it to them if they really are dating, meeting your significant other during a kidnapping is a hell of an origin story.)

Upon Tim's silence and continued smirk, Bruce just sighs.

"New York it is."

Outside the Jackson-Blofis apartment, Bruce wipes his shoes on the welcome mat. They are expensive, and he has kept them as clean as possible, but he had no idea what will be on the other side of that door and the least he can do is not track city gravel into their home.

He has a microphone in his jacket, tucked into his collar so Tim can hear everything from the car. His son had begged for an earpiece, so he could give suggestions, but one, Bruce has been interrogating people for far longer than him, two, the earbud would be too visible on his un-cowled head, and three, Bruce doesn't think he would make it through the meeting having to listen to Tim vomit out questions every five seconds.

Relaxing out the Batman posture he has unknowingly found himself in, Bruce knocks on the door and waits.

He doesn't have to wait long, but the person who answers it is not Chase.

It's Perseus Jackson, the son of the owners of the apartment, and he is a strange-looking teenager. Young adult, he can almost hear Tim correct from the car. But the distinction does not quite matter when the boy before him is looking him up and down, only half-interested, as he leans against the doorframe. His posture is even stranger, non-threatening and casual, yet something behind his bright eyes hints otherwise. Bruce can't exactly tell if he recognizes him.

"Hello, I'm looking for Annabeth Chase," he tells him.

Jackson smirks, almost faintly, then turns his body into the apartment.

"Hey wise girl," he calls out, and Bruce stores that nickname away for later, "Wayne's here."

Bruce does not have the time to decide if Jackson had known his identity all along, or if he had only realized after his greeting, because the girl in question suddenly appears at the end of the hall. One thing is for certain, however. They have been waiting for him. If there was any doubt Tim had miscalculated, it vanishes in an instant.

"Oh, good," he says pleasantly, "You know who I am."

Bruce has seen the picture in the file, but the flat 2D images do not exactly do justice to how unusually Annabeth Chase behaves. She stares at him, grey eyes unblinking, and it feels like he is being carefully inspected, analyzed like one may do to pieces on a chess board. The way she holds herself, as if every movement, every step forward is performed deliberately, is unsettling.

Weird vibes, Tim had said, proving himself right once again.

Jackson sips loudly on his drink, interrupting them.

"Cute baby," Bruce says, just because he'd like to see the reaction, "Is she yours?"

It is a mistake, and now there is juice seeping into the leather of his shoes. Apple, by the smell of it.

"I didn't mean to offend," he says, to smooth it over.

"She's my sister," Jackson replies dramatically, but he does not sound truly upset.

He kisses his girlfriend's cheek on the way out with the toddler, making Chase smile for a moment. His parents do not seem to be home but their daughter is, and they are all undeniably comfortable with one another, all details Bruce files away.

"May I come in?" he asks.

Chase nods. "We can talk in the kitchen," she says, then turns, leaving Bruce to close the door behind him and follow.

Bruce wants her to speak first. The longer he lets her sit in the silence, the more likely she will get uncomfortable and reveal something she should not. She does speak first, but she also doesn't seem bothered in the slightest.

"It's kind of funny. Earlier this year, I thought of applying for a WayneTech internship, and now Bruce Wayne is sitting in my house."

"WayneTech doesn't offer internships to students currently pursuing their bachelor's degree, or lower," Bruce replies, like a mantra.

Her reaction isn't what he expected. A mere disappointed, "I know."

The bundle of nerves is back. She had wanted WayneTech. She knows it was not possible. Now he is sitting in her house. (It's the Jackson-Blofis house, yes, but she behaves as if she belongs here.)

"You went with Lexcorp then," Bruce says, seeing her nod. "I heard you attended Luthor's trial. What did you think of him?"

Chase's face contorts into one of utter dislike, contempt perhaps. It's enough for Bruce to realize that she cannot be on his side.

"A psychopath masquerading as a god. He thought he deserved to rule the world. I thought he needed a reality check."

Bruce has to keep himself from reacting, tilting his head instead. He can tell the emotional reaction is not by accident, but it's clear the sentiment hits close to home. She has experience with people like Luthor. Bruce doesn't know how many people like that exist.

"I was under the impression the trial wasn't televised," she continues, upon his silence, "And it's a little early for them to release the judicial proceedings."

"My son expressed interest in attending."

Bruce waits for a beat, and Annabeth says, "Timothy," giving him the confirmation he had needed.

He can't hear it, but he just knows, Tim is creating a racket in the car outside.

"Yes, Tim. He said something interesting about you, that you seemed to know one of the witnesses. What is your relationship to Dennis Bryant?"

It's one of the questions Tim had insisted he ask, the thing that had started the whole investigation. Bruce is not normally this blunt during interrogations unless violence is involved, but Chase has been fairly open with her answers. There's a trick here somewhere, and Bruce has a sinking feeling he knows what it is, but he needs the proof.

"We're not related, no, if that's what you're asking. I just happened to meet him, and ended up helping him out."

As Chase stares back, drumming her fingers on the table in a way that doesn't come off as nervous at all, Bruce realizes she wants him to ask.

"With that?" he obliges.

"Gathering the courage to do something he couldn't for a while."

Bruce purses his lips. It's impossibly close to a confession. Before he can decide if he wants the whole one, his mouth opens again.

"I also heard that a large chunk of the evidence used to arrest Luthor was anonymously dropped off to Clark Kent."

Chase's face twitches, amused. He had been hoping to throw her off, but she's picked up on his wording, and answers anyway.

"Clark wasn't home. Lois was the one to receive it."

There's no doubt anymore.

"Miss Chase, what you've done here—"

"Hypothetically," she interrupts.

She has already nearly admitted to the entire thing, so why? There are still so many unanswered questions, like how she came across the recording, and how she got the lawyers to quit, and why she had done all of this in the first place, and she's willing to imply she's done it so why won't—

She wants something first, he realizes.

"Let's just say that Luthor's been a thorn in my side for quite some time now," Bruce starts, then reminds himself that no matter how this conversation has gone so far, despite the sinking feeling that tells him she knows Clark's identity, there is no way Annabeth knows about Batman. "What with all of his recent tech contributions to the market."

"And all the immoral criminal acts and other general human rights atrocities," she adds, like she's poking fun at him for leaving them out.

"Right," he replies, "Those too."

She's playing him. Bruce wants to know why she did it, but she wants something first. Chase could very easily kick him out of her house and sink back into the shadows, but he has something she wants, and she knows that she has the answers to his questions. He replays the beginning of their conversation.

"What I'm trying to say is," Bruce finally says, because she is playing him and he knows it and she knows it and the most he can do is sigh, hoping that somehow his decision will end up proving beneficial, "Perhaps Wayne Technologies would be able to bend the rules a little and make an exception. Miss Chase, I'd like to offer you a job."

Chase stills in her seat, fingers no longer moving.

Bruce watches her for a moment, curiously. There's a hesitation there he hadn't expected.

"If that's of any interest to you. You don't have to decide right away," he says, then realizes that he's fallen prey to the very technique he had attempted to use on her at the start and that he can do nothing now but continue, "We can set up an interview—"

An amused snort interrupts him, and Chase leans forward, the strange cryptic mask melting away and revealing something somehow worse.

"Haven't you realized," she says, grey eyes sharpening like knives, "This is my interview."

Bruce returns to the car with a paper copy of a resume and a thick portfolio of designs that had made his eyes actually widen when Chase had flipped briefly through it to give an overview of her blueprints.

When he slides into the back seat, Alfred glances briefly through the rearview mirror and takes the initiative to start driving back to Gotham. Tim stares at him, unusually silent, mouth parted in disbelief.

"I thought you were going to interrogate her, not hire her," he says, slowly, and Bruce genuinely cannot tell if he is upset or excited or just hysterical, "What were you thinking?"

Bruce rubs at the creases in his forehead, staring down at the contents of the resume in his hand. The name ANNABETH CHASE in bolded letters stares back at him, tauntingly. He has a reason. He does not know if it's the right one, but he wants to know why, and Tim wants to know how, and Chase wants a job. Bruce is in a position to make all three things happen. He can only hope that it works out in his favor.

What was that saying again? Oh, that's right. Keep your friends close and your alarmingly intelligent, potentially hostile teenagers closer.

A.N.

well, i hope you guys liked this, any more updates on this will probably take a while, so I hope this keeps you fed for a lil 3

do not worry, tim is not a bad guy. he's just a mildly manipulative, curious little menace

also, part of me wants to go fuck canon lana x lucius love story, while another part of me says aster no, think of the consequences, girl has too much shit to do she cannot be romancing her rival, that couldn't possibly work out in the long run. but like,,,,,