Hi, sorry, we only have a filler/intermission chapter today
Got hit with a nasty fever last week
I'm still recovering, and fuck it's a struggle even just typing this out. Still better than I was the rest of the week, though...
Anyway, I thought about just skipping, but it felt wrong, so here's what I managed to write before the fever decided to fuck me up
Be back next week with a full chapter, hopefully
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Barbara thrusted her hands high, squeezed into tight fists. She leaned over left and right, stretching her stiff upper body all at once. Her wheelchair shifted a little from the motion, bearing no protest as she proceeded to twist about on top of it.
With a sigh, she finally let herself slump forward a bit, exhausted from another all-nighter. The Birds of Prey had need of her help again—it was a sizeable operation that needed discretion, as well as her particular skillset as a digital infiltrator and investigator.
That entire ordeal had taken nearly all of the hours she had available, but at least it was over. Had the birds needed more time, Barbara would no doubt have pulled through with them regardless of her schedule. All the better that they completed their mission in time, though.
Despite that, even if her work was technically over, she still needed to check in with Batman. She was neither duty- nor oathbound to do so, but it had become habit for her. It was something that she'd always done as Batgirl after all, and could never quite get rid of even as Oracle.
She didn't mind at all, though. Those after-hour talks with Bruce always helped her loosen up mentally before hopping off her desk to fully unwind.
Tap-tap-tapping away at her keyboard, she connected with the computer system in the Batcave. When the video feed came on, she found that Bruce was already there with his cowl removed, hair disheveled. Some of it even fell over his face.
She chuckled to herself at the sight, leaned back in her chair, and pulled closer to her desk. "Rough night, Bruce? Let me guess... Jason was a handful again."
A tired sigh rolled out of him, followed by a muted chuckle. "He's been getting more and more willful lately," he said with a wry smile. "It's like Dick all over again, but better and worse at the same time." His eyes were low as he spoke, drifting left and right as he visibly pored over his memories.
Barbara snorted at his reminiscence, building off of his words to bring up her own memories from before Dick had left Bruce's wing. Bruce himself followed that with more recent things—stories that Dick had shared from his time with the Titans. Tales from Bludhaven when he'd finally moved there, as well as issues that cropped up here and there that he needed help or advice with.
Their jovial exchange trickled slowly into more serious affairs, though none that needed to be dealt with right away. Like usual, it was all about work—just without all of the weight and gravity of the mission. Again, they were only connecting after the entire night to slow down for their eventual stop. They needed their hearts and minds refreshed for the next night over, after all. Commissioner Gordon could handle things while the sun was up.
When even that trickled to a stop... Barbara brought up something that she normally never would have, if only because it wasn't such a big deal yet and only warranted more observation. "Bruce. I've got something I want to show you—it just happened last night."
Tilting his head to the side, Bruce cocked a brow. "I assume it's just a curiosity for you?"
"Yes," Barbara nodded, though unseen as she was hidden behind her avatar even now. "Here... it's more footage of that new metahuman."
She sent over some carefully-clipped footage. They depicted a man clad entirely in black, appearing in a congested alley. Electricity rolled over his body, but it all seemed to leave his clothing unharmed. Besides that, his only standout feature was the white mask that covered the lower half of his face.
Bruce observed those clips with a musing curiosity.
The first showed the metahuman disarming more than a dozen men in an alley with the help of two others. Despite having assistance, he still handled a majority of that battle. From there, his budding routine of detaining and looting them played out as expected.
Whether Bruce was impressed by the display or otherwise, he made no indication of it—not even in body language.
Following the first clip was an assortment of much shorter bits of footage, all taken from different locations around Gotham. The masked metahuman fought and detained criminals in all of them, only leaving moments before the police arrived to respond. He hadn't done that last part with the clip from the alley. Another difference was that he fought with much more delicacy in the scattered clips as well.
Bruce hummed after the brief showing, fingers interlaced over his lips. "He's doing much better than I thought he would. Good thing he managed to rescue Jones and that boy as well." He snickered for a moment and shook his head. "Who could've thought that he'd be connected to that troublemaker?"
"He's been really low-profile since he was last released from juvie," said Barbara. "Probably more weight on his mind now that he can be put in actual prison, especially with this 'Nicholas Umbrage' to look after. How long has it been... two, three years?"
"Closer to three," Bruce replied. He leaned back and parted his hands, placing them on his chair's armrests. "Back to the here-and-now... I think our city's little interloper will be good for him. Make sure to keep track of them in the background. If they get into more trouble than they should, alert me. I'll handle things then... and if they're willing, see if I can steer them back to a better version of the lives they lead."
"Alright," said Barbara. "I'll just leave them to their business otherwise."
...
Inevitably, Barbara disconnected from the Batcave to finally sign off for the day. The sun was near-rising, after all. In the end, after considering the risks and other potential concerns of Waylon Jones interacting with the meta-interloper, she and Bruce decided to take on a wait-and-see approach.
They couldn't be proactive regarding them, after all. There was still what remained of the Falcone and Maroni crime families to clean up for Bruce—he couldn't afford to split his attention from them just yet. Especially since even after disbanding, many of them were still loyal and fought their own battles, fully justified in their own internal worlds. Even with Batman's skill and unwavering diligence, crime groups like those always seemed to have a way of living through their decline.
As for Barbara, she was busy with many, many other things. Coordination, recruitment, monitoring... there was just so much to handle outside of Gotham now that she had been spreading her wings as Oracle. Responsibilities that she couldn't ignore just because of some small-time potential trouble brewing in her own home.
She couldn't just up and 'recruit' them to prevent them turning bad, either. If anything, it might just speed up that particular part of the process.
Sighing, she mumbled to herself, "If only getting shot activated a meta-gene in me... maybe something to improve my mental processing speed."
She lightly tapped her fist on her wheelchair's armrest a couple times. Her computer array was in the process of turning off as she did. Once the devices had all been put to rest, she wheeled herself to her clock tower's elevator and went to fix herself a quick morning dinner before turning in for bed.