As Commissioner Gordon made his way up to the platform, the talk of the crowd was on Batman, not on the Commissioner’s upcoming speech. The assassination attempt was public information now (though who was behind it was all rumors at that point) and, while many insisted the speech be cancelled, Gordon would not hear of it. The turnout of reporters was nearly three times the average for such events and the most popular subject was whether the Commissioner would make it out alive. The crowd was all abuzz as the event drew nearer and heads were turning left and right, trying to make out a bat-shaped figure among the evening shadows.
Said bat-shaped figure was in the shadows, but through the window of an abandoned apartment building that was set to be demolished later that week. It was unlikely it would happen, though, as activists were, at that very moment, campaigning for it to be left standing and possibly rehabilitated, claiming it was a valuable, original, Pinkney* structure.
The bat-shaped figure wasn’t the only figure camped out in the shadows the apartment – the figure of a young boy was present as well, the white lenses of his domino mask shining in the darkness, or at least Robin assumed they were. Said boy shifted uncomfortably, unhappy with Batman’s choice of a steak-out position, but, since he was even in a steak-out position in the first place, he wasn’t about to complain. They’d been crouched in the shadows since the start of the gala at the pavilion across the street – a gala which the Commissioner had attended in honor of his speech.
Nothing had happened at the gala, which the Dynamic Duo had expected as all their research led to the idea that the assassination attempt was to take place during the speech. But of course they still had to camp out for four hours just to make sure. Thinking back to the conversation that had taken place the previous day, Robin still couldn’t understand why Ra’s al Ghul of all people would be making an assassination attempt on the Commissioner.
“Why Ra’s?” Robin had asked Batman in the Batcave while Bruce pored over something on the Batcomputer.
“I mean, why would he make an assassination attempt on the Commissioner? I thought he’s more of an extreme environmentalist who believes in saving the world by destroying it.”
“Something like that, Dick.” Bruce answered, not looking up from his work.
“Then why would he suddenly change tactics?”
“Perhaps he believes he’d be closer to eliminating the population of Gotham if he took down the Commissioner first.”
“Uh-huh? That’s likely.”
Bruce sighed, standing up and crossing the room to the examination table. “He may have a larger plan at work here.” The man told his ward. “The assassination might only be a ruse to distract us from his real plan.”
“Great.” Robin groaned. “Another one of these missions.”
“I thought you were excited to come.”
“Yeah, excited enough.” Robin reached into his pocket, his phone vibrating against his leg. He thought he left that in his room!
Sender: Wally West
Message: Yo, when u gonna get here? Team wants a mission!
Robin sighed. Typical Wally.
Reply: Doing the Dynamic Duo thing. Not coming out 2day.
Robin put the phone back in his pocket and went over to stand beside his guardian who was once again engaged in the Batcomputer.
“You think this has anything to do with the Cadmus Case?” Robin asked, the idea suddenly coming to mind.
“I don’t know Dick, but we must keep all possibilities open.”
It was then that Robin knew Bruce was hiding something from him.
Robin felt a sharp tap on his shoulder and looked over to see Batman motioning for him to look out the window. When he did, he saw that the Commissioner had made his way up to the platform and preparing to start his speech. Robin glanced at Batman and Batman gave him to the ‘spread out, investigate, but keep to the shadows’ signal. Yeah, they had some pretty complex signals. Robin nodded and slunk out the door of the room they were in, heading for the back door.
The sky was already dark, the sun nearly set, and a giant spotlight was centered on the platform and the swarms of people present. Robin ducked out the door and found himself in a back alley. He cautiously snuck along the alley, keeping to the shadows as requested, his eyes scanning the darkness for anything suspicious. He soon made it around the building and was able to see the all the assembly from the back. The Commissioner had just started talking, multiple microphones positioned in front of his face.
Robin crept along behind the platform, easily avoiding the armed guards that surrounded it, all the while looking for the tell-tale signs that accompanied an assassination attempt. He saw no obvious scouts as he made his way around the corner of the platform, nor any armed figures in the windows scattered throughout the surrounding buildings. After a thorough sweep of the area, Robin found himself crouched in the shadows of the apartment building, the sun fully set, the Commissioner’s speech nearly over, and absolutely no sign of Ra’s al Ghul. He was preparing to radio Batman, tell him he’d found nothing, and probably receive the same information in reply, when saw a dark shadow move farther away to his left, looking particularly like his mentor.
Curious, Robin followed it, wondering why Batman would be seemingly avoiding him. Unless he didn’t know he was there… but that was hardly like the Bat. He crouched low as he approached the figure, most of it lost in the darkness of the building. As he got closer, he could see the distinct ‘ears’ on the figures head and the long, jagged cape around its ankles, but Robin could also see that it was smaller than Batman – noticeably so. Honestly, it looked too small for any full-grown man. Judging by the fact that it hadn’t yet noticed the young vigilante sneaking up on it, Robin deemed the person wasn’t too big a threat and decided it was probably just a kid playing some sort of prank. Easily handled.
Robin let out a cackle, the sound bouncing around the alley as he leaped up onto a window sill above the kid’s head. “Hey.” He said nonchalantly, surprising the figure so bad it jumped. “What’re you doing out here dressed as a bat?”
The figure spun around and Robin could see it was a girl, dressed in what looked like the batsuit, albeit poorly altered to fit the girl’s smaller frame, hence causing it to hang off her awkwardly. The cowl she was wearing looked to be made out of an old ski mask, sewn to look like Batman’s with ears stuck on top. She had some sort of make-shift utility belt around her waist, with what appeared to be homemade weapons stuck in it as well. And she was wearing high-heeled boots. Overall, the getup made Robin laugh again as he jumped down and stood in front of the girl, who, to his chagrin, was taller than him (and would have still been, even if she hadn’t been wearing the ridiculous boots).
“What are you laughing at?” The girl growled, seemingly trying to do a Batman impression and utterly failing.
“You, your costume, your choice of footwear, your ‘weapons’…. Care for me to continue?” Robin laughed, stepping up backwards onto a step to help boost his height, authority and ego. Not that he had one or anything.
“What do you want?” The girl demanded, crossing her arms and scowling at him through the eyeholes in the ski mask.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Robin asked, a smirk on his face. “Dressing up as Batman when there’s an assassination attempt taking place? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“No!” The girl cried indignantly. “I’m not!”
“Then what are you doing?”
The girl glared at him, her blue eyes flashing. Robin did a double take. Her blue eyes…. He shot a glance at the back of the girls head and saw red hair sticking out of her make-shift cowl. He studied her lithe, yet muscular build beneath the baggy tunic. There was no doubt about it, with the courage she was displaying talking to the Robin: Barbara Gordon.
“I’m trying to protect the Commissioner.” Barbara spat out, though with less indignation and a little more defense and possibly more fear than before.
Protecting the Commissioner. Of course Barbara would want to protect her dad, after what happened to her other parent; Robin knew the feeling. No doubt she was out for vengeance as well.
“Don’t worry,” Robin said, gentler this time. “We got it covered.”
“Hardly.” Um, come again?
“What, don’t trust us? Me and the Bat have been protecting this city for years, we can handle this.”
“I don’t want to take any chances.” Barbara replied, uncrossing her arms, reaching into her belt and pulling out some sort of culinary-looking knife.
“Listen,” Robin began, not liking where this was going. “It’s dangerous out here. You’re young, untrained and will likely get hurt. Go home and leave this to us. We’ll protect the Commish, promise.”
“Great, and I’ll help.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“No, you-” Robin sighed, fingering his gauntlet computer. Stubborn as stubborn can be. “This isn’t a game.” He told her, as much seriousness imbued in his voice as he could get. “We’re not playing dress up. Go home or I’ll have to call the cops.”
“Why?” Barbara demanded, knife in hand.
“Wha-?” Robin asked, momentarily taken off-guard.
“Why do I have to go home and you get to go crusading around Gotham in tights?”
“They’re not tights.” Robin grumbled. “And I’m trained, I’m prepared, I’ve been doing this for four years. You: you’re alone, unprepared and armed with kitchen knives.”
Barbara’s scowl deepened and she raised said kitchen knife in what Robin assumed was supposed to be a threatening position. The only that would feel threatened by it would be a lobster. If she was lucky.
“I’m trained!” She argued. “I have years of martial arts experience and I’m training for the Olympics in gymnastics.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“I train every night, doing exactly what I see you do.” So that’s what she was doing at Gotham Academy the night of the Amazo mission.
“Okay,” Robin told her. “I’ll rephrase that: you’re not trained by Batman.”
“Then I’ll get him to train me.”
“Good luck with that.” Robin laughed as he turned and started walking away, hoping she would just leave and go home. He honestly couldn’t understand why Barbara had taken a sudden liking to heroing, or why she seemed so persistent in continuing it. He didn’t want her anywhere near any of the stuff he dealt with.
“Fine, if Batman won’t train me, I’ll just continue training myself.” Barbara called, anger back in her voice.
Maybe I’m not intimidating enough, Robin thought. He spun back around.
“Go home. Go home now, or you’ll regret it.” There was anger in his voice – not at her, but what she could do to herself and what others might do to her. “Trust me. Someone will get hurt because of you, and then you’ll regret ever dressing in that costume.”
This made Barbara freeze, her expression softening and her eyes slowly narrowing in a questioning way.
“I don’t want you to make a choice you’ll regret.” Robin told her. “You will get hurt, in more ways than one. Leave now before you don’t have that choice.”
Barbara stared at him, lowering her hand and slowly replacing the kitchen knife in her belt. She looked contemplative, but also like she believed him, if only barely. Robin relaxed, glad he’d finally gotten to her. He smirked to himself, proud of powers of intimidation. Or maybe of warning… or something. He snapped to attention as he saw Barbara suddenly go into a defensive stance, her eyes widening. Was she really that scared of him....? Maybe he’d overdone it….
“Robin! Behind you!”
Robin whipped around, only to run head first into a huge, muscled chest. He cried out as a pair of thick arms encircled him, trapping his own arms to his sides. He struggled fruitlessly against the hulk of a man, the man’s muscles feeling as hard as steel. He opened his mouth to scream, only to have a cloth shoved in his face, a sickly sweet scent filling his nostrils. Chloroform, crap.
Robin could vaguely hear Barbara screaming in the background and he hoped with all his might that whoever this man was would leave her alone. If only she’d shut up and run…. Robin’s struggles grew lesser as his head felt like it was filled with air. Black spots filled his vision and he blinked, desperately trying to get them to go away. He felt his arms and legs go limp, much against his will as the black spots started overtaking his vision, his world finally fading to black, his last thought on whether or not Barbara got away.
oOo
The world was fuzzy, almost as if there was some sort of thin veil in front of his eyes, inhibiting his vision. Maybe he was going blind. Or needed glasses. He hoped not; glasses could get seriously annoying in crime-fighting (there was no way he was touching his eye to put in contacts. The very thought made him shudder) and being blind, well, it would definitely put a damper on things. The world was also pounding in pain, though that could very well have been his head, perhaps signaling his approaching blindness. Perhaps it was head trauma that was causing all this. When did he hit his head?
The world was slowly coming into focus, though it had taken to an annoying habit of swaying back and forth, causing him to feel like he was on a boat. When he did get on a boat? Was he suffering memory loss? Suddenly a large, muscular, shirtless chest encompassed his vision, confusing the boy even more. Was this some sort of stripper boat? His vision got even clearer, the muscles on the chest becoming sharp and defined, the prominent abs making themselves known. This was a really weird boat…
Memories came rushing back like a wave, washing away all doubt from his mind as to what happened. “Wow,” Robin thought. “I got captured pretty easily. Babs must’ve been distracting me, putting me off my game.”
He immediately tried to swivel around, looking for any clue as to whether or not the girl had made it away safely or not, only to find that his arms and legs were bound to a wooden chair. His wrists were stuck through the back slats and his ankles were tied up against the chair legs. His gloves were gone, as was his belt, though his boots were left alone, and thankfully his mask as well, not that his boots would be much help if he couldn’t reach them.
The muscular chest must belong to his kidnapper, then. He was certainly strong enough to be the man that had grabbed him. More pain lanced through his already aching head as Robin felt his head get yanked up by his hair, his eyes coming to rest on the face of the hulk-man in front of him.
He was pretty non-descript, with hard features, a long face, and a set jaw, his neck thick and muscular supporting a bald head. His eyes appeared intelligent and he seemed to be sure of what he was doing, despite the apparent absence of orders coming from anywhere. That, of course, brought up the question of why this man would want the Boy Wonder in the first place. Didn’t he know he was more trouble than he was worth? Unless he was working with Ra’s, though that all seemed highly unlikely as Ra’s seemed pretty focused on the assassination…. Which didn’t seem to be taking place. Maybe he did work with Ra’s after all.
That still didn’t explain why he would want Robin though. Unless he was involved in the Cadmus Case, but that didn’t really seem like something Ra’s would care to be mixed up in. Though assassinating Gotham’s Police Commissioner didn’t either, unless he somehow thought that his absence would help with the elimination of the population of the world…. But that seemed highly unlikely. Despite what he might think, the Commish didn’t really have that much influence over the crime-ridden city. That being said, it seemed that the Demon’s Head had been acting odd recently. Maybe kidnapping part of the Dynamic Duo wasn’t so far out of the question.
Robin was wrenched from his thoughts by a deep, rough voice cutting through the air.
“The Boy Wonder, isn’t that what they call you? Not looking to wonderful right now are we?” The hulk-man laughed a deep, taunting laugh that made Robin want to punch his face in.
Robin glared up at him, his masked eyes narrowing as he tried his best to do an imitation of the batglare.
“Who are you and what do you want?” He hissed, his eyes quickly darting around what appeared to be some sort of abandoned apartment building. It was devoid of furniture expect for the chair upon which Robin sat and a couch covered in a white sheet pushed into the far corner. There was only one window, the glass broken and boards nailed in its place, and a grey door set in the wall farthest from where Robin sat. The whole place was dully painted and had a rather eerie mood to it. Barbara was nowhere to be seen.
“Name’s Ubu, kid.” Hulk-man growled, releasing Robin’s hair allowing him sink back down in his bonds, the chloroform making him feel groggy. “And I don’t want anything. My master’ll be along shortly, ‘e’s the one you wanna talk to ‘bout that.”
“Who’s your… master?” Robin asked, gritting his teeth as another shock wave of pain shot through his skull.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“You’re not being real helpful, you know.”
Ubu chuckled, giving Robin a shove that nearly sent him over onto his side, chair and all.
“I sure hope I’m not.”
Robin winced as the chair dropped back to flat, the impact jarring his head – again. Tired of exchanging words, he cut to the chase.
“You work for Ra’s al Ghul, don’t you?” The boy asked, inconspicuously twisting his hands, trying to free them of their bonds.
“Eh, maybe I do, maybe I don’t, what’s it to you?”
“What does he want with me?” Robin spat out, finding, to his displeasure, the bonds on his hands were tight and cleverly done.
Ubu ignored him, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest, scowling slightly down at the Boy Wonder. Robin glared back up at him, trying to move his chest as little as possible as he fought to free his hands. He could feel the skin beginning to rub off, yet he wasn’t any closer to breaking free. As a last resort, he could always resort to breaking his thumbs. It would be painful, and not very handy once he was free, but maybe he’d get lucky and could head-butt Hulk-man before he noticed he was free. His head throbbed again, probably arguing against that idea.
Ubu continued to stare at him, perhaps trying to intimidate him with his muscle. It wasn’t working. After about five minutes, Robin was bored, his wrists were nearly rubbed raw, and he’d had enough of Ubu’s chest for a lifetime. He was beginning to wonder when Batman would finally notice he was missing. Was he still watching for Ra’s? One way to find out.
“Hey, Chunky, you just gonna stand there all day? When’s Ra’s coming?” Not that he was excited to see the eco-terrorist, but it would at least mean that hopefully Batman would be on his tail. When was Batman going to notice his absence anyway? And Bruce had been trying to protect him? Great job he was doing.
“Relax tiny punk, you’ll get what’s comin’ for ya soon enough.” Ubu answered him, uncrossing his arms and walking over to stand in front of the boarded over window, peering through the gaps in between the boards.
Robin sighed, relaxing in his bonds, his previous struggling beginning to make his head pound. He glanced down at his feet, wishing for some way that some part of his body would be able to reach his boot. He was finding none whatsoever. Finally, to prevent himself from going crazy, he decided to torment Hulk-man, if only for his own amusement.
“So, you appear to work out a lot.” Robin piped up, struggling to sit up straighter in the chair.
Ubu grunted in response, not turning away from the window.
“I work out a lot myself.” The boy continued, smirking to himself. “Actually, this whole kidnapping thing is interfering with my workout schedule and you know what they say about missing a workout. I’ll lose over a month of progress!” Robin wailed. “I’ll fall so far behind I just don’t think I can handle it.”
He sat there, pretending to wallow in despair for a few moments before bolting upright as best he could, a joyous look coming over his features.
“I know!” He exclaimed. “You can help me! I’ll do my routine right here, right now!”
Ubu still stood, apparently ignorant of the show being put on behind him. Stupid hunk-a muscle, Robin thought.
“Alright, so, let’s warm up first.” The boy ordered, putting on an overly cheery voice. “I’ll start: okay, so for the equations: ‘f’ of ‘x’ equals two ‘x’ plus two and ‘g’ of ‘x’ equals ‘x’ to the power of two minus four ‘x’ plus two, determine the exact value or values for which ‘f’ of ‘x’ equals ‘g’ of ‘x’. Well, go ahead, answer it.”
Ubu grunted (big surprise). “I don’t have time to play your games.”
“It’s not a game,” Robin argued (not like he was doing anything anyway). “It’s a workout; a brain workout. Get that cerebrum thinking! Hey, did you know the cerebrum makes up eighty-five percent of the brain? And that the average human brain weighs three pounds? It’s made up of seventy-five percent water and is two percent of total human body weight.”
“I don’t care.” Ubu growled.
“You should though. Never know when that information could save your life.” Robin smiled knowingly, his eyebrows dancing.
“I highly doubt it.”
“Oo, suddenly talkative? Maybe you do care. Never know when some strange disease will come along, infecting all the human brains. Scientists will develop a cure, but then fall immobile due to the disease overtaking the 100,000 miles of blood vessels in their brains. You will be the only one left conscious and it will be up to you to administer the cure, but in order for you to properly dose it, you need to know the exact weight and make-up of the brain. Bet you care now, huh?”
“Insolent kid.” Ubu growled. “Just shut up and wait for Ra’s to get here.”
Robin cackled in triumph. Idiot. “You just admitted Ra’s is behind this after all. Thanks a bunch, Chunky.”
Ubu looked about to respond when he froze, his eyes immediately shooting around the room. Robin perked up too, the miniscule noise traveling to his eardrums. It sounded like scratching, like a lock-pick…. Suddenly the door was kicked down and a huge shadow stood framed in the doorway, the tips of the Bat-cowl visible on the top.
Ubu whirled around, his fists raised in defense, a surprisingly determined and self-confident look on his face. Just as he was about to lunge at the silhouette, a high-heeled boot nailed him in the back of the head sending him toppling forward. High-heeled boot….
The Hulk-man was sent crashing into the floor but he rolled to catch himself, coming up again, already swinging. A black cape swished around behind him and another punch landed itself on Ubu’s ear, the force probably setting his ear ringing for a few minutes. The man toppled to the side, landing, unfortunately, on top of Robin, knocking his chair to the side and sending them both to the floor in a heap.
Robin groaned, the weight of the Hulk-man nearly suffocating him. Thankfully he hadn’t broken anything – yet. Ubu struggled up, dragging the chair with him, arm wrapped tightly around Robin windpipe. Once he was standing, he was holding the boy well off the ground, the chair dangling beneath him.
“Stop, whoever you are, or I will crush the kid’s neck.”
Robin struggled, his lungs already beginning to burn and he could almost feel his face turning purple. His vision was getting splotchy and his head was aching like never before. He tried to do something, bite the hand, swing the chair into the man, but he was practically immobile, his life slowly being choked out. As things started to get unbearably fuzzy and his lungs felt like fire, he felt the pressure release and his body drop to the floor, and anguished yell in the background followed by a grunt and a thump.
Robin took gasping breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and fill his empty lungs. He’s landed on his side, the chair landing heavily on his left arm, but it didn’t hurt too bad and would probably only bruise. His throat hurt, but he knew the choking hadn’t lasted long enough to leave much damage, despite how painful it had been.
In between his gasps he felt hands fumbling with his bonds, eventually freeing his hands and then his feet. He immediately struggled into a sitting position, his eyes taking in the unconscious form of Ubu to his right, a large bruise already forming on his forehead. Wow, must’ve taken some kick to knock out that hulk.
“Are you okay?”
Robin gasped, the voice not the one he was expecting to be hearing. His head snapped to the doorway, only to see a coat hanger covered in a black cloth with an empty Bat-cowl on top.
“Wha-?”
“Yeah, lame, I know. It was mostly meant to distract that guy while I snuck in from behind. Good idea, right?” As Robin listened, he noticed the voice, oh so familiar, sounded shaky.
“Barbara Gordon?” The boy asked, pivoting around to see her face. The cowl was gone now, proving there was no doubt it was Babs.
“You know me?” Barbara gasped, sitting back on her heels, her face in shock as she crouched in front of him.
“Yeah, course.” Robin smirked, rubbing his throat. Yeah, it would be sore for a couple days. “You’re the Commissioner’s kid. I gotta know all the important people in this city if I wanna protect it.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
“What did you…? How…?” He gestured to the unconscious Ubu on the floor.
“Snuck up from behind while he was busy choking you. I don’t think he ever really saw me, so he was really just threatening empty air. Once I got close, it was all just pressure points. And a hard kick to the head.”
Robin nodded, mildly impressed, though angry as well.
“I thought I told you to go home.” He shot at her, getting unsteadily to his feet and making his way over to the unconscious man, trying to locate his stolen accessories.
“Wow, some way to thank someone for saving your life.” Barbara shot back, rising as well, her hands going to her hips.
“My life wasn’t in danger.” Robin pointed, crouching down and running his hands over Ubu’s body, feeling for his belt.
“Right, because being choked isn’t life threatening.”
“That was your fault.”
Barbara opened her mouth, but then shut it again, his argument dispelling her previous one. Robin smirked as he continued his search.
“Still, I saved you from kidnapping.”
“Maybe.”
“How is it maybe?”
The boy didn’t answer, his hand finding a lump in the pocket of Ubu’s pants. He stuck his hand in the pocket, successfully pulling out his utility belt and gloves. He checked them over, pleased to find them both untouched.
“You still owe me.” Barbara argued again.
“Mhm? Maybe in your book.” Robin stood and buckled his belt back on, slipping his gloves back over his hands as well. He was impressed at Barbara’s skill, there was no question, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted her to go home.
“You do!”
“Yeah, okay, but I thought I told you to go home?”
“I couldn’t just let you get captured!”
“Batman would’ve come for me.” Eventually.
“What if he hadn’t?”
“He would’ve.”
Barbara huffed in obvious irritation and Robin smirked to himself, pleased at his ability to trigger people’s emotions so easily. Some might say he was just annoying (well, most), but he knew it was a rare skill he possessed.
“Train me.” Barbara suddenly demanded, straightening up and glaring down at Robin.
“What?” Robin asked, though he knew perfectly well what she’d said.
“Train me. Train me to fight crime.”
“No.”
“Fine, but you can’t stop me from doing it on my own.”
Robin stared at Barbara, his own eyes widening slightly as he saw her eyes: fierce, determined; there was a fire in her eyes, not unlike the fire that had burned in his eyes when he’d first become Robin and gone after Tony Zucco.
“Why?” He asked her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of doubt. “Why do you want this?”
“Because,” she started, her voice strong and determined. “There’s someone I have to protect. And someone I have to avenge. I may not be able to go after her killer, but I make sure something like that never happens again.”
Robin nodded, the phrase ringing familiar in his ears. He’d uttered something of the same four years ago, the night he took the oath. Her mother: she wanted to do this for her mother - and her father. He couldn’t deny her that, could he? Not when he knew the feeling all too well. Besides, if he didn’t train her, she’d only run off by herself, which was something he didn’t want in the slightest. He knew Barbara too well to think she’d stay at home after tonight.
“Alright, fine.” Robin announced, his face taking on a superior look, or at least that’s what he was going for. “I’ll train you.” Barbara’s face lit up. “Under one condition: no running around on your own. Oh, and you have to get an outfit that actually fits. Guess that’s two conditions. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Good. I’ll meet you on the roof of the abandoned hotel on fifty-second street at eight sharp tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
Barbara nodded. Robin smirked, giving Barbara one last look before expertly disappearing into the shadows and swiftly exiting the room, only turning back briefly to call out:
“Oh, and you go by Batgirl now.”