Neither changed upon entering the cave – it was usually seamless, swapping from their costumes to pajamas, transitioning from the suit to normalcy, but with their suits adorned and cowls residing on the table, it was apparent something was different about this case. Dick was entirely on edge, and he was certain Barbara was too. Both restless, and exhausted, even the cave didn’t feel safe – it felt like at any given moment, they had to be ready.
He hated that feeling. He hated the waiting. Most of the time, he was patient as she digitized everything. Now his gaze flickered between monitors, watching the percentage climb slow. He tries not to crowd her, stepping away, avoiding pacing. He’s nervous, and it shows – he doesn’t like it when Barbara sees him sweat, not when he should be her anchor, not when she could be scared too.
“Maybe you weren’t being sloppy,” He knows she would have noticed. He never would underestimate her, but Dick didn’t want to underestimate who they were up against either, “maybe neither of us were being sloppy,” he knew she was right . Between the two of them, they would have absolutely noticed if someone was following them.
Dick continued, “But we don’t know this guy’s skillset. He could have been tailing you for months, Babs,” Something stirred deep in the pit of his belly at the thought they’d been monitored while they were together, probably more times than either of them would ever be comfortable knowing. It was rage – the same uneasy feeling that arose the night his parents had been killed. For that reason alone, they tended to keep it professional when they were on the scene – their relationship was a liability for the rest of the family. Either of them could be targeted and used as bait, and without hesitation, even with the faint indication it was a trap, Dick would fall into it for Barbara.
“He was just waiting for the right time.”
When the computer beeps, he hitches a breath, gaze darting over her shoulder when she proclaims there’s no match. She’s ruminating and when she hitches a ride along her train of thought, Dick follows. “But what?” No prints, no evidence, not a trace of DNA – it was a deliberate plant without the closure, and he swept a hand through his raven locks, “How are we sure he’s an amateur?” There were more questions, more thoughts, but they blurred together the longer he lingered before Barbara. He nods his head, sleep sounded good, “What about you?” His thumb brushed her jaw, cerulean hues drawn to hers, “Will you try to get some sleep?”
there’s a feeling barbara gets when she’s missing something, a dull buzz in the back of her head that’s almost a headache but is really just her intuition screaming at her to put the clues together. but sometimes what she really just needs is sleep, time for her brain to work it out for her. so when dick touches her, she turns her head to meet his eyes, and the corners of her green ones soften as she gives in to his plea.
“ yes. i need a few hours of sleep for this particular puzzle, “ she tells him, just to affirm to herself that she’s not giving up. she’ll figure it out and she’ll punish whoever is messing with her sufficiently enough that he won’t ever dare try it again.
she relaxes against dick with a sigh, red hair spilling against his shirt as she closes her eyes and speaks once more. “ you need to get some sleep, too. i know you had one of those headaches tonight. maybe some rest will make it better. “ and, unspoken: she wants him in top form for the upcoming night. she’s still convinced that whoever they’re chasing will try something with her, or with him, and she doesn’t want to see him get hurt because he’s run himself ragged trying to keep up with the impossible demands of the city they live in.
not wanting to leave the cave in case the computer unearths something else for them, she crashes in one of the cots bruce has left clean and made up close by, curled up against dick’s comforting, solid warmth. her mind is wired, but her body is more exhausted than she initially deduced: and within a few moments, she’s out like a light, and her subconscious goes to work on solving the problem.
when she wakes to the beeping on the computer, she has a feeling she knows what it’ll say. further analysis of the prints has found an anomaly: their target isn’t human, or he’s an altered human, and his exact skillset is unknown but there is one possibility.
“ a shapeshifter, “ she murmurs aloud, face bathed in the blue light of the computer she sits in front of, and she puts her glasses on as a force of habit. they help with the eye strain as she begins to type, compiling the start of a file. they’ll need it.
