Chapter Text
Dick should have known Bruce’s return wouldn’t come with sweeping hugs and tender hands. It wasn’t like Dick expected such overt affection from Bruce at all, he hadn’t expected it in years. Since Dick’s Robin years, they’d always had a…complicated relationship, filled just as much with stilted silences as unconditional love.
And yet…in the year Bruce had been gone–presumed dead–Dick had imagined all kinds of ways he would come back, his presence as commanding–as safe– as ever. At night, when Gotham was as quiet as it could be and Damian was tucked in bed and Tim was at least in the Manor and Jason had checked in, Dick allowed himself to fantasize about his dad coming back. He pictured yelling at Bruce at the top of his lungs all the cruel things he’s bottled up and demanding why he made Dick take on everything in his absence. And other times he pictured Bruce striding in and lifting the ever growing weight on Dick’s shoulders and hiding his eldest in his arms. A fantasy of a child, similar to what Dick imagined his first nights in the Manor after his parents died.
It was much more on brand for Bruce to make his grand return with all the usual heroic and dramatic flair a 6’2 adult man dressed as a bat could.
Dick was skilled enough to realize when a fight grew to be more than he bargained for. And the night Bruce made his grand return to the present timeline, Batman and Robin were going toe to toe with Ra’s Al Ghul and sixteen of his best assassins.
It was more than they bargained for when they showed up to bust an illegal shipment of firearms, but Ra’s planned it that way, a perfect ambush to reclaim his heir.
Like hell that was happening, Dick immediately thought, stepping in front of his ten year old partner. The reaction amused Ra’s, who knew it wasn’t Bruce under the cowl, and mistakenly assumed it would be an easy fight to kidnap Dick’s baby assassin.
Damian took two breaths, gripping the cape once to steady himself, to press himself close to Dick, the safety promised in proximity enough for the former shadow to straighten his spine and face his grandfather. Dick was so proud. He was always proud of Damian, but especially in that moment.
Dick–Batman–came right to Ra’s, angry that the man thought he had any right to breathe in Damian’s direction, let alone ever get his hands on him again.
It was a sick satisfaction when Ra’s expression shifted from a smug amusement at the oldest Bat Brat playing dress up in his father’s costume to slowly being pushed back by the new Batman.
The only reason Dick let up at all was because another shadow was getting too close to Damian.
When Dick flipped away, over Ra’s blade, to cover his partner’s back, Batman, the real Batman, made his entrance, his knee pressed into Ra’s throat with the element of surprise.
“Get away from my son,” Batman hissed a gravelly tone that had any assassins in hearing range take a step back.
When the fight was over, and the shadows either unconscious or joining Ra’s in his retreat, and Dick finally met Bruce’s eyes again after so long, all Dick could think was how brilliant Tim was.
Damian stayed at Dick’s side, close enough for Dick to know the boy wanted to take cover under Dick’s cape but didn’t want to seem weak or emotional at the sudden turn of events. Dick placed a reassuring hand on Damian’s shoulder anyway, watching as Bruce tracked the movement.
“B?” Dick finally said.
“Father?” Damian added hesitantly.
A part of Dick, the small child in him that Bruce had saved time and time again, wanted to run to him, collapse against his chest and sob in relief that Batman was back. Dick instead took a step forward and opened his mouth. To say what, he didn’t know: is it really you? It’s good to see you? Are you okay? I missed you.
But Bruce beat him to it. “You walked into a trap.”
Dick halted his step, the familiar tension in his spine reminiscent of the days before Bruce disappeared. The tension before the fight. The calm before the storm. So Dick closed his mouth, swallowing whatever words he was going to say, and nodded.
“Father!” Damian exclaimed. “Batm–Night–Rich–” he huffed with frustration, “it was an incredibly well planned ambush. There was no way to know. And we handled ourselves quite adequately–”
“Robin,” Dick squeezed his shoulder softly, “let’s head back to the Cave to have this discussion.”
“But–”
“You handled yourself most adequately, Baby Bat. Good job. Now let’s go before the police show up.” He glanced at Bruce, ignoring how Bruce’s hands twitched, almost like he wanted to reach out-reach for them, “want a ride?” Dick asks.
“I…” Bruce’s face was almost impossible to read under the cowl, but Dick could see the hesitancy, the active tamping down of emotions, “yes.”
They all rode back to the Cave.
Dick went back to Bludhaven two weeks later.
_______________________________
6 Months Later
In some ways, it’s a perfect day for a new member to join their team. It provides a perfect distraction for Emily to play off her slightly elevated heart rate; or why Derek had to say good morning twice before she heard it. An easy excuse to be distracted. An excuse that saves her from having to come up with her own to explain away why her mind is racing with plans and contingency plans and why every time she closes her eyes she hears Sean’s– her old handler’s– voice:
‘Ian vanished from prison.’
‘Sean, am I in danger?’
‘We all are.’
Why Ian Doyle’s voice haunts her hours alone and whispers for her to watch her back.
She isn’t quite in the right headspace to meet new people, build trust, or form a new relationship, but it's a way to get her mind off the highly trained killer coming after her, at least for a little while.
Emily finishes up a report on her computer and tries to ignore the slight nervous energy in the bullpen. Hotch is in his office, as always this early in the morning when they don’t have an active case. Derek has his computer on and cursor blinking, but he isn’t really doing anything productive. Penelope is leaning on his desk, giving him an excuse not to actually work. JJ is on her phone, her texting interrupted every few seconds by her glance at the elevator. Rossi is getting coffee, but taking his sweet time so he doesn’t miss the new arrival. And Reid stands beside Emily’s desk, tossing a rubber ball up in the air and catching it, a hand-eye exercise Morgan makes Reid do instead of fidgeting.
“You really think he’s twenty-six?” Reid asks. The question is aimed at Emily but the space is small enough everyone can hear. “I mean, statistically, the percentage of field agents in the FBI twenty-six or younger is only 11% and the percentage of agents accepted into the BAU twenty-six or younger is only 1.08%.”
Emily finishes saving her report. “Briefing Hotch gave said twenty-six.”
“Jealous, boy band?” Morgan calls over.
“Don’t worry Reid, you’ll always be our prodigy,” Emily squeezes his arm in comfort.
Reid rolls his eyes.
“It’s true,” Penelope pipes up, which is what they were all waiting for anyway, “got his FBI file with my magic fingers and I can confirm Richard Grayson is twenty-six. Former Detective in Bludhaven.”
Morgan whistles.
Even JJ looks up, taking a break from the play by play from Will about how drop-off went this morning. “Bludhaven? That’s big leagues.”
“Bludhaven, New Jersey, known for its high crime rate, second only to Gotham City and followed by Star City,” Reid clarifies helpfully. It isn’t really necessary, because everybody in the room knows about Bludhaven. There are some cities even the FBI tries to steer clear of, and Bludhaven and Gotham make that list.
“Correct, boy genius,” Penelope says fondly, her tone returning to the voice she always has for gossip, “from what I found, Richard Grayson joined Bludhaven PD when he was eighteen, made detective by twenty, took a year long transfer to Gotham when he was twenty-five, and then got scooped up by the Academy shortly after.”
“But going straight from the Academy to the BAU?” Emily questions. That’s the impressive part. Agents worked their whole careers and never got placed into the BAU. They’re a highly selective, highly skilled team and very few people, even those who survived the Academy and years of service, made the cut.
“I did,” Reid states.
“You’re special,” Morgan concedes.
“Maybe he’s special too,” Reid adds matter of factly.
“What else did you dig up, Mama?” Morgan asks Penelope.
Penelope grimaces apologetically, “Hotch asked me not to go full Black Ops on the new guy, something about respecting our co-workers and privacy and boundaries and not hacking into their personal devices without reason. Actually, he asked me to not hack the FBI server for Grayson’s full file, but we both knew that was unrealistic.”
They all blink at her.
“What?” She asked. “He has no tattoos, his parents’ names were John & Mary, both deceased, he went into Gotham foster care for a bit before a placement but the specifics are redacted, and his blood type is O negative.”
“And that wasn’t invading his privacy?” Rossi teases, his coffee in his hand.
“There is only so much Hotch can ask of me,” Penelope shrugs and they all chuckle.
Emily is actually impressed that’s all Penelope knows. It must drive her crazy having to wait for more information with the rest of them. Come to think of it, that’s probably why she's waiting here with them.
They don’t get any more time to tease Penelope or speculate on Special Agent Richard Grayson, newest member of the BAU, because the elevator dings and the doors open.
Quickly, they all pretend like they weren’t waiting to get a first look at their new team member as he steps out of the elevator.
8:00am on the dot.
Emily turns in her chair and stands up, smiling to greet Richard Grayson, sizing him up at the same time. Taller than her but shorter than Morgan, probably 5’11 in his combat boots and 5’10 without. Tan skin, wavy black hair, and bright blue eyes under eyelashes that spark envy in Emily at the unjustness of men having the most beautiful eyelashes.
He walks confidently into the bullpen, but not arrogantly, not trying to intimidate or impress, just comfortable in his body. His eyes quickly catalogue the exits and windows, a habit Emily recognizes in herself as well as every other agent in the room. He wears a suit that hangs off him in a slightly ill fitted way, but no tie, and a black backpack easily slung over a shoulder.
He extends a hand as Emily walks up, an easy smile on his face.
“Richard Grayson, I assume?” Emily asks as she shakes his hand, “I’m Emily Prentiss; it’s nice to meet you.”
By the way Dick glances at the rest of the team and then smiles wider, Emily’s sure their play at nonchalance didn’t quite work. “Nice to meet you, Emily. Dick Grayson.”
“Welcome to the BAU. You can call me Rossi.” Rossi shakes Dick’s hand.
“Jennifer Jareau; JJ. It’s nice to have you.” When JJ turns away from the new kid she shoots Emily a wide eyed look that has Emily covering her mouth to hide her smile. JJ is a happily married woman, but she isn’t blind.
“Spencer Reid. Did you know that the nickname ‘Dick’ for Richard comes from an old British trend of replacing the first syllable of an already established nickname. Rob; Bob, Meg; Peg, Rick; Dick.”
They all watch Dick’s reaction to Spencer’s info-dump, ready to alter their welcoming reaction if Dick doesn’t respond at least civilly to their boy genius. They know Spencer can be a lot, but he's their a lot and there would be no place on the team for someone who doesn’t respect him.
But Dick just tilts his head to the side slightly, “huh. I didn’t know that. But I’ll have that ready to go next time someone makes a cheap joke.”
Everyone relaxes just a hair, their arms back to open and welcoming. Derek is next.
“Derek Morgan. Welcome to the team.”
“And I am Penelope Garcia,” Penelope extends a hand, “your go to girl for any of your needs.”
Morgan coughs, “she means computer needs.”
Penelope winks, “I know what I said.”
Dick smiles and shakes her hand, “it’s nice to meet you,” he casts a look over the bullpen, “all of you. I’m really excited to be here.”
Emily watches him, a small smile on her lips. He’s young, enthusiastic, and even if she knows he’s from Bludhaven, one of the toughest cities to survive in law enforcement, she worries for his adjustment to this work. It can be a lot for agents, especially young ones, to go from a variety of crimes, including murder, to some of the most twisted, sadistic murders in the country, and get in the head of said murderers. She hopes Dick will be alright.
But that’s what they’re here for: to ease the transition. To be a network he can lean on if it gets to be too much, like it had been for all of them at one point or another.
And that thought sends a small burst of guilt through her for keeping her problem from her team. For not trusting them enough to know about her past.
Hotch appearing at the top of the stairs pulls her out of her thoughts. He stays at the top of the short flight of stairs, taking in the new hire. “Grayson,” he acknowledges.
Dick smirks, like something about the blunt welcome is funny, or familiar, and nods back, “SSA Hotchner, I presume?”
“Good to have you.” Hotch gestures for Dick to follow him back to his office for the orientation they all got when they joined. The rest of the team watches them go, Penelope craning her neck just a little too hard to be nonchalant, until Hotch’s door is closed and the newbie out of sight.
“I like him,” Garcia announces.
“You don’t have to be so excited, babygirl,” Morgan grumbles and Penelope kisses his head good naturedly.
“Does he seem a little green to you guys?” JJ asked, a hint of worry in her tone.
Rossi looks at Emily, the same minor disagreement in their eyes. ‘Green’ isn’t the word they would use. On first appearance, it could look like that: the wide eyes, the nice smile, but Grayson moves with a self-assuredness agents took years to grow into. The way he took barely a second to assess each of them before shaking their hands, the way he moved with an easy grace that pointed to athleticism. No, not green exactly.
“Probably just first day jitters,” Rossi answers, “but I think he seemed like a nice young man.”
“And if the kid’s over his head with this transfer, we’ll help out,” Morgan adds. He looks to Emily for back-up.
She provides it easily. “Damn straight.”
_______________________________
Ironically, for Morgan’s worry about the new walking Ken doll being able to handle this unit, they don’t have a case that day, which made for a pretty easy first day, if Morgan says so. And as such, it’s a pretty early night.
Reid’s taken the bulk of the responsibility of the new kid’s orientation, their desks across from each other. Reid’s spent the day going through his current case consultations, walking the new kid through building profiles, analyzing case facts, and ultimately making recommendations or sending them up the chain to be reviewed for BAU assistance.
Morgan’s kept a close eye on their interactions, knowing from personal experience that Reid’s constant chatter can be a lot, especially for someone not used to him. But Grayson’s kept a pleasant attitude the entire day, seeming to soak up everything Reid says, asking questions freely and appearing to actually enjoy working through things with the resident genius.
Early afternoon Grayson takes a break, excusing himself from the conversation with Reid after checking his phone. He leaves the bullpen, pressing his phone to his ear.
Derek leaves his desk a few minutes later to go to the bathroom. He pauses before turning the corner, hearing Grayson speaking softly into the phone and not wanting to interrupt what’s obviously a private call.
“Yeah, I can imagine,” Dick’s voice says. There’s a silence as the other person says something and Dick chuckles, “don’t count yourself out, Baby Bat, you can do great on a team if you put your mind to it…yeah, okay…you’re almost home?...cuddle Titus for me, hm?...I’m just a call away…I love you.”
Dick hangs up and he comes around the corner so suddenly and so silently that Morgan jumps back, not prepared to be caught eavesdropping. Dick’s eyebrows raise slightly but he doesn’t seem altogether surprised to find Derek.
“Uh, just taking a bathroom break,” Morgan offers.
Dick’s mouth twitches into a small smile, “sure.”
_______________________________
When six o’clock finally rolls around, everyone starts gathering their things. Penelope makes an entrance, greeting everyone after the long day apart and looping her arm through Derek’s. “Anyone up for drinks? Let’s show Dick the best bar around here.”
“I’m up for it,” Derek squeezes Penelope’s arm.
JJ checks her phone, “Henry’s staying with his grandma tonight so I’m in.”
“Ditto,” Reid says, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder.
And, peculiarly, Morgan watches Dick look to Emily, like he’s waiting for her decision to determine his plans. Morgan also turns his gaze to Emily, who has a brief, almost nonexistent, flash of irritation, before checking her phone, but then her shoulders relax and she acquiesce.
“I’d like that,” Dick says with a smile.
Penelope claps and leaves Derek’s side to take Dick’s arm, leading him to the elevator
They’re early enough in the night to get a table to fit them all, sans Hotch and Rossi, who never join the after shift drinks. Derek notices that even though Dick had seemed interested in if Emily would come out, he doesn’t sit beside her, instead opting to be between JJ and Reid.
Reid gets up to get the first round, which they all protest because Reid doesn’t even drink, but Reid spouts something about a new article on behavioral statistics to get drinks quickly at a bar and wanting to try it out so they let him.
“So Bludhaven,” Penelope says, almost vibrating with the effort it probably took her not to bombard Grayson with questions all day. “Sounds intense.”
Dick gives her the same easy smile, completely at ease with her questions, almost expecting it, “yeah, but it’s home. Every city has its share of crazies. Bludhaven just has a few more.”
“I’ll say,” Derek takes his beer from the tray Reid carefully sets on the table, “I had a buddy who tried to do a stint in Bludhaven but only lasted a year.”
“And you’ve lasted, what, eight years?” Prentiss feigns ignorance, like they all don’t know his resume.
Grayson takes a drink of his own beer, the twinkle in his eye suggesting he also knows they know his resume but he plays along, “almost. Took a break for a year to do a training program in Gotham after I made detective.”
“Is it routine to send detectives to the most dangerous city in the country for training?” Reid questions.
“Nah, it was more a retaliatory thing from the seasoned vets for making detective so young. Probably hoped I’d get murdered or scared off the force.”
Dick says it nonchalantly, but Derek looks around to matching expressions of shock.
Dick raises his eyebrows, “what? It didn’t work.” He shrugs, “Bludhaven’s department is pretty corrupt, so it can be hard for guys to stay clean, but it’s getting better. It’s decent enough I felt okay about leaving once the FBI accepted me.”
Garcia leans in conspiratorially, “Gotham and Bludhaven both have vigilantes, right?”
“Multiple, actually,” Reid chimes in, sipping on his Shirley Temple, “Gotham is one of the only cities with more than two vigilantes. You see, usually they work in pairs, a mentor-mentee relationship: Green Arrow & Red Arrow, Flash & Kid Flash, Wonder Woman & Wonder Girl–”
“Batman & Robin,” JJ adds.
“Yes,” Reid continues, “originally. But Gotham now boasts as many as five vigilantes, if you count a rumored crime lord that works with the local vigilantes, or the vigilante of Bludhaven who has been known to also patrol Gotham.”
Derek snorts, “it’s a whole gaggle of bats.”
“Cauldron, actually.” Dick shoots a triumphant grin at having beat Reid to the punch. Reid concedes with a nod and a good natured smile, not annoyed at all for someone else knowing an obscure fact.
“Another thing that’s interesting is although they all seem to work together or at least coordinate, only Batman and Batgirl are bats; Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing all use a bird emblem or moniker, and Red Hood wears a bat symbol but no other bat or bird imagery.”
“That’s interesting, Spence,” JJ says, “I wonder the reason for the lack of cohesion.”
“It could be a loyalty thing,” Emily adds, “Robin was the first sidekick, right? The vigilantes after could be expressing loyalty to him rather than Batman.”
“But still allowing Batman to lead?” Reid questions.
“It could be tradition, maybe the passing of legacy,” Morgan theorizes, “Robin was the first and he had to grow up, right? But Robin’s stayed in the same age bracket. So all sidekicks coming up also take a bird moniker.”
“Or in honor,” JJ adds, “maybe one of them died.”
“Statistically speaking, with the crime rates and types vigilantes intercede in, factoring in a relative child’s possible ability, odds are at least one hero has at least perished if not retired.”
“Wow,” Dick runs a hand through his hair, “you guys are really good at your job. I’ve never seen anyone profile vigilantes with almost no background information.”
They all laugh.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Derek claps Dick on the shoulder, “you’ll be just as good one day.”
Dick makes a face, “Really? ‘Kid’?”
Reid leans closer to him, “they called me kid until I turned thirty. Which was this year.”
Dick groans, “but I’m, like, an adult!”
Emily snorts, “yes, all adults proclaim they’re adults.”
Dick groans again and puts his face in his hands as they all laugh and give encouraging pats on the shoulder. Dick eventually joins in and plays along, offering to get the next round to prove he’s old enough to drink.
Beers become shots.
“You mentioned a Henry earlier,” Dick turned his face towards JJ, not slurring his words, but running them together, just a bit, in a sign of tipsiness.
Derek exchanges a look with Garcia, who is flushed and also drunk, but they clink their glasses together, congratulating themselves on a job well done if everyone, especially the new guy, is drunk and having a nice, wholesome first team bonding.
JJ’s eyes are a bit hazy, shining with liquor and love for her child. “He’s my son,” she explains, her voice thick with a mother’s love and Dick leans in, almost pulled forward from the sheer obviousness of her emotions for her family, “He’s four and the most perfect little boy you’ve ever seen.”
“Do you have pictures?” Dick asks.
JJ immediately opens her phone and starts showing them all the most recent pictures of Henry, Will, and all three of them.
“He is perfect,” Dick’s voice is soft, “congratulations.”
Emily tilts her head, “do you have kids?”
Derek watches Dick, remembering the phone call he overhead earlier. His gut reaction is of course Dick doesn’t have kids, he’s barely more than a kid himself, but lots of young people have kids through circumstances out of their control.
A flash of…sadness? Anger? Crosses his face, but he shakes his head. “No, I have three little brothers. They’re everything,” Dick beams, and Derek is taken aback by how true a smile it is. It makes him question all the other smiles he’s gotten today. “But it’s different.”
The second part is a bit lower, a bit sadder, and Derek remembers Penelope saying his parents are dead. He wonders how old Dick was when they died, if his younger siblings remember them, and if Dick says ‘brothers’ but means ‘kids.’
JJ sighs, “I’d like to give Henry siblings, but there’s never a perfect time.”
“Definitely not. Every one of my brothers came in like a hurricane,” Dick clinks his glass with JJ’s and they both laugh.
Someone gets them all another round of shots.
Penelope, Emily, and JJ are regaling Dick with how they routinely embarrass male FBI agents who try to hit on them at this bar during girls’ nights, to the amusement of everyone, all their cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with alcohol.
“And then Em pulled out her badge and went: ‘tell me, Brad, does it look something like this?’” Penelope is practically yelling. “And JJ said: ‘or this?’ and pulled out her badge!”
“And then Garcia pulled hers and went ‘or this?’” JJ finished the story and they all crack up, Dick’s laugh high and bright and contagious.
“What did he do?” Dick prods.
All three girls exchange proud looks. “Silently walks away with his tail between his legs,” Emily admits with a smile.
They all erupt into another round of laughter until someone checks their watch and declares it’s late. It might be Reid, which impresses Morgan, because Reid doesn’t usually stay out this late with them. Good, Morgan thinks, it’s good for Reid to make a friend around his age.
They all grumble but get to their feet with varying degrees of success. Penelope leans heavily on Derek’s arm, threatening him not to let her fall. “I wouldn’t dream of it, babygirl.”
Dick sways and Emily offers one shoulder to him and the other to JJ, who looks like she could fall asleep standing up. “Easy, new kid,” Emily chides, “looks like you’re fully initiated.”
“Oh no!” Penelope hiccups, “we’ll see how you handle the hangover. Then you’ll be initiated.”
Dick grumbles something about hazing and not even being drunk but he burps right after which negates his previous statement and they all laugh.
Will shows up shortly after and JJ gives him a big kiss before he helps her into the car, but not before Will shoots a warning look at Garcia, who raises her hands innocently. The rest of them wait for their cars to get here, except Reid who doesn’t drink and bids them all goodnight.
Behind them, the bar door opens and closes as a group of drunk men in their early twenties come out for a smoke. Dick leans over to Prentiss and Penelope, “wanna show them your badge?”
Penelope cackles and Emily disguises her laugh with a cough.
One of the guys makes a noise of excitement, spotting a heads-up penny in the road and makes a break for it. It happens so fast Morgan doesn’t really process it until it’s over, and Penelope misses it altogether, but just as the guy would have run into the path of an Uber delivery bike, Dick snatches the guy back and into safety, reflexes faster than a cat.
The guy looks down at himself, and then at the bike speeding away, and finally at Dick. “Dude!”
“Dude!” Dick responds with matching bewilderment, “I guess that penny is lucky!” They fist bump and the guy goes back to his friends.
“Nice reflexes,” Prentiss remarks, a bit more sober than a minute ago.
“Thanks,” Dick shoots them a drunk smile, “just don’t ask me to do it again.”
Derek exchanges a look over Dick’s head at Emily, who has the same perplexed look on her face. How drunk is Dick? Totally plausible for muscle memory to take over, or just dumb luck for a save like that, but now that Derek tries to think about it, how many drinks did Dick have? Sure, they got rounds of drinks, and then shots, but how many does Derek remember Dick taking?
Morgan & Penelope’s car pulls at the same time as Dick’s and the arrival distracts him enough to chalk it up to dumb luck, but with a promise to watch the new kid a little more closely. Dick waves goodnight to all of them.
_______________________________
Dick gets out of the Uber two blocks away, thanking the driver and watching until the car is out of sight before using a nearby fire escape to climb to the nearest rooftop. He stays in the shadows, practically invisible even if he feels a bit out of place doing this in civilian clothes instead of his Nightwing uniform.
But it would be too suspicious if Nightwing is spotted in Virginia at the same time Dick Grayson shows up as the newest Quantico employee. He pops his earpiece in as he moves quickly, finding Emily Prentiss as she walks home.
His comm crackles to life and a familiar voice brings a smile to his face. “Hey there, Special Agent, how was your first day?”
Barbara’s voice is warm, but he can hear a faint tapping, the sound of her typing and a pang of homesickness hits him, not quite as strong as his phone call with Dami after school, but similar. “Good. Liked it so much I might give up the whole spandex thing.”
Barbara scoffs, “sure Boy Wonder.”
Dick chuckles softly, moving quickly to keep Prentiss in his sight line.
“How’s the cover? Any hint of your team members linking Richard Grayson with Richie Wayne?” Babs stops typing while she waits for his answer.
“Not yet,” Dick answers quietly, making an easy jump between roofs, “they asked questions they already knew the answers to from my FBI file but the questions about family were all genuine. Your work is impeccable as always, O.”
Barbara makes a satisfied sound. “Even the tech goddess?”
“Even Penelope.”
“She’s who you need to look out for, N,” Barbara gives the familiar warning, the same one she gave before he came, “if she does a deep dive into your personal devices or looks harder at timelines, it won’t be hard to figure out. Hell, if she tries a little harder at your encrypted CPS file it’ll be game over.”
“Hopefully by then I’ll be able to play the bashful son of a billionaire trying to get away from my name. You gave me a head start; that’s all I can ask for.”
It’d barely taken Barbara effort to make his FBI file just hard enough to hack into to satisfy someone like Penelope Garcia but also scrubbed of any mention of Bruce Wayne, instead listing Mary & John and only mentions of his work in Gotham. That, coupled with the foresight Bruce had as soon as he took Dick in to only refer to him as ‘Richie Wayne’ in public made it simple for Barbara to make sure no web searches for Dick or Richard Grayson cross with Richie Wayne and vice versa. It allowed Dick some form of anonymity as Richard Grayson when he joined BPD. It’s safer for people not to know right off the bat about the crazy famous dad; makes it easier for people to trust him.
Plus, while Garcia is Barbara’s biggest worry, Spencer Reid is Dick’s, his intelligence and pattern recognition off the charts, the discussion at drinks about Gotham vigilantes all the proof Dick needs to be wary of Reid’s ability to put together clues on identities. Dick just needs space and time to gain Reid’s trust to put a buffer on Reid coming to the conclusion there might be a link between the Wayne’s and the vigilantes of Gotham.
It’s a pretty big reasoning leap, and the whole family (especially Bruce) has put a lot of effort to make it seem ridiculous, but if there’s one BAU member that gives Dick reason to worry, it’s Reid. He just has to seem normal enough for enough time that even Reid can’t see the ties. Easy-peesy.
“What about Prentiss?” Barbara asks, “how’s our potential source?”
“Might take some time to get her to trust me,” Dick admits, “rampant trust issues.”
Barbara snorts. Dick ignores it.
“But Morgan’s been watching her closely today, which tells me our intel is probably good she has reason to believe Doyle might come for her. I’m making sure she makes it home now.”
Dick stops moving as Prentiss makes it to her building. He loses sight as she goes inside and probably up the elevator. He stays perfectly still and invisible as he waits, his view into the windows of her dining/living room.
“And if she’s not a potential victim?” Barbara asks, “if she’s dirty?”
Dick shrugs, “I’m watching for that too. She’s obviously trained enough it’s hard to get a read on her.”
They settle into a comfortable silence, Barbara’s typing a soothing sound as Dick sits and waits. “Almost patrol time?” Dick breaks the silence.
“B and Red tonight. Hood is doing his own thing in Crime Alley but I’ve got him on a different line.”
Dick stiffens, “is Robin–”
“He’s fine, N,” Barbara cuts off gently, “he’s got a presentation tomorrow at school so B’s making him get a good night’s sleep.”
Dick relaxes, sighing in relief, “yeah, okay, that makes sense. That’s good.”
“You okay?” Barbara asks after a beat of silence.
Dick sighs, “Red didn’t answer earlier. Feels like now that he doesn’t have to see me he’s not picking up my calls.”
“Give it time. Things were fragile before B came back, and taking this assignment exacerbated that. But he understands, N.”
“Maybe.” Dick pulls out his phone and sends a quick ‘Have fun on patrol. Be safe.’ to Tim. A minute later, he gets an alert that Tim ‘liked’ the message. Dick sighs again, “hopefully.”
He keeps the line open and Barbara pops in every now and then to chat or tell him B and Tim have started patrol, but Dick’s job is over quickly. Emily Prentiss safely makes it to her apartment, arms her security system, makes sure her windows are locked and curtains drawn (not before he watches her place perfume bottles on windowsills, a sign if there ever was one that she’s paranoid of intruders). He checks the signal of the bug he placed earlier this morning to make sure her security system didn’t mess with it, then heads home.