Faye Feng → Dick Grayson ✔

Detective Work

Lydia Whitegate lived in a cramped apartment halfway through the Narrows, one of the many cracked windows that looked out onto grimy streets. Most of those who occupied Gotham's back alley were still asleep, but a few street rats were already beginning to poke their heads out of their homes, blinking blearily at the sun's rays.

"Top floor?" Robin asked. His cape hooded over the red of his suit, allowing him to merge with the blackness that stretched across brick walls.

Batman nodded, invisible in the darkness. "With a five-year-old son and a two-year-old daughter."

"She'll be up by now," Barbara spoke into their ear comms, crisp and businesslike. "Her alarm just rang. Give her three minutes to get dressed and you'll see her in the kitchen preparing eggs."

Sure enough, a vague stirring came from the window the Dynamic Duo were observing. Lydia entered the living room, her own shadow flitting across the floor.

"You have fifteen minutes before ninety percent of the Narrows are awake."

"Copy," Batman said. He gave Robin a look, and that was enough for his protégé to get going.

Robin dropped down and landed on the fire escape railing, perfectly balanced. He crouched down, picking the lousy excuse for a lock with a flick of his wrist, and silently entered the back door. Almost immediately, Batman joined him, although with less grace and more menace.

Their view was blocked by a cabinet, but with a silent step forward, a thin, brown-haired woman emerged.

"Whitegate."

"Oh my god!"

Lydia jumped into the air, the egg she was cooking with the pan in her hand jumping with her. She spun round, the pan falling from her fingers. Before it could hit the floor with a loud clatter, Robin caught it effortlessly by the handle. Batman's growls had caused worse reactions.

He grinned at the bug-eyed lady as he placed the pan back on the stove. "Sorry, Ms. Whitegate. I hope we haven't startled you."

"I – what?" Lydia sputtered, hands gripping the sides of the counter behind her. "You're...and you're..." She turned to stare at Batman, a stark pillar of black against her light-grey kitchen.

"We were just hoping to ask you a few questions," Robin said lightly, used to playing the good cop after years of practice. "Don't worry, you haven't done anything wrong."

Batman grunted as if to say yet, and Lydia turned a paler shade of white. Robin fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"You can continue making breakfast, if you'd like." He offered.

Lydia turned towards him, eyes still looking as if they'd pop out of her head. "Hmm? Oh, um, no...that – that's okay." She laughed nervously. "I'll, uh, I'll talk."

"Great," Robin said gently. "We'll be gone before you know it. Oh," he turned to Batman, pressing a hand to his ear comm. There was no broadcast coming through, but he found that it worked when dealing with civilians who were obviously intimidated by the Dark Knight. "There's a robbery on fifth street. You want to go get that?"

Batman gave a curt nod of understanding, eyes flashing briefly to Lydia, who shrunk into herself. Without another word, he swept out of the kitchen, disappearing from behind the fridge.

Robin sighed, running a hand through his hair. He leaned casually against the counter. "Sorry about that. He's...he's not great with people."

Lydia laughed, the color returning to her complexion now that Batman was gone. "It's alright. It really does astound me that people still break the law knowing that he'll come after them."