conflict and compromise / barbara gordon

irregular happenings

As Barbara swung through her regular patrol route, she reflected on the smell of the city. Gotham definitely had a look about it, but with the gloom and rain also came a certain smell that permeated the city like nothing else. It was lighter here, in her territory of Burnside, though she attributed it more to the stronger smell of burnt trees and new construction smell as the neighbourhood rebuilt from the fire that had swept through half the district months prior.

"Batgirl? Hello?" a voice rang through her earpiece, as she rounded the next corner she tapped her earpiece.

"Red Robin? What is it?" She surveyed the streets she had committed to memory under her absentmindedly as she turned towards a familiar rooftop. 

"I'm going to need you at the clocktower... I don't know how to operate your software and Damien is not helping" 

Barbara chuckled, "On it," and with that, launched her tired body towards the centre of Gotham, eyes locked onto the old derelict clocktower that housed most of her life's work. 

♡♡♡

Wenlock had never paid much attention to the smell of something as a child, life in more rural parts meant that most of the year she spent with hay fever anyway. That had changed when she moved to Gotham, the derelict city had no room for trees, nor for anything other than smog apparently, she reflected. 

"I think I prefer hay fever," she groaned as she pulled herself up.

"The city is more optimal for me.... personally," the robotic voice came from Oracle, not the famed hacker, but the robot who said she claimed the name. Despite months of education and chatting to Wenlock, the AI never seemed to be able to use personal words with full confidence. 

"Isn't it depressing as hell though?" Wenlock moved from the bedroom into the small kitchen like a bear seeking food, hunched over and stumbling as if drunk, seeking her morning coffee. Passing by the dining table, she almost knocked over Oracle, well, what was left of the Oracle robot, just a head plugged into a power socket.

"What really is depressing is your need for caffeine." The head flashed green with every word, not something it needed to do, thought Wenlock, but definitely made it less creepy.

"Ouch" Wenlock finished making her coffee and leaned back on the counter, hands around the mug, "suppose its fair though."

"A significant breakthrough happened last night, Tim Drake turned on the computer in the clocktower and I was able to inject a portion of myself in." The robotic voice didn't change in intonation but Wenlock knew that it was definitely proud of itself, "I expunged the new version of me she created, took the information and replaced it."

"How'd you get in without him noticing?" Wenlock slid past the stack of computer parts Oracle had ordered for her and into her room and started packing books and papers haphazardly into a small backpack.

"Admittedly, a bit of luck, he was distracted with his little brother and I faked an update message,"  At this, the robot had the decency to inject some emotion into the warbled voice. Wenlock thought it was embarrassment, but it could have been interpreted as almost anything.

"Well good job anyways," she said cheerfully, patting the cool metal of Oracle's head, "I have a class to get to and then three overdue papers to write though, so we can celebrate tonight," 

"I don't understand why you don't let me help you write them," The robot said, "I could fake emotion, mistakes, anything, for you if you wanted me to."

"You know the rules in my household," Wenlock said, bouncing to the door and beaming, "no cheating, if you're not me." 

And with the sound of the door closing Oracle had a lot of time, with only her infinite intellect and a lot of Wenlock's rocks to keep her company.