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Notes

I bet you thought I wasn't writing fic any more! Well, you were WRONG SUCKERS! TAKE THAT.

Um. I mean. I would like to thank Petra for betaing this, and Te for her continued existence.


Imported from Archive of Our Own. Original work id: 1539.



 

Tim knows the pipes pretty well. Better than anybody except Bruce, he guesses, and even Bruce doesn't know what it's like up here in the places he can't fit. Tim knows which ones are dangerously hot, and which ones are dangerously cold, which ones are just incredibly gross, and which ones transmit sound. He wishes there were more of the last kind. It's pretty slice being able to put his ear against a pipe and know what the troupers are talking about, even if it is mostly boring and about how their feet hurt and stuff.

The other good thing about being up in the pipes is that mostly no one knows he's up above their heads, hearing everything they're talking about. He's heard Barbara and Rich doing some pretty silly stuff that way, and he made fun of them for months, and he once heard Bruce say "Damn!" when he burnt himself soldering. He never told anyone about that.

months

He's off shift, and the rest of his team is being all silly, planning some kind of party they want to have with the six litres of grenadine they scored in the last raid. (Bruce was pretty crunched about that- his intel had indicated there might have been plutonium, but really Tim didn't really want to wear a rad-meter anyway.) Rich and Barb and the whole of Delta team have been out for two days doing something secret for Bruce that they weren't supposed to talk about, but Tim's heard it's got to do with something called Poseidon Project. Doesn't mean much, but he says it to himself while they're gone: "Poseidon Project." He likes knowing things no one else does.

He worms his way along the scaffolding afforded by the pipe, and pulls himself up a cable that's probably going to break on him before he gets too big to come this way again. It doesn't break today, though, so he squishes up into the electric and hauls himself along by the brackets, careful not to touch the live wires. He's headed toward a place he knows where he can sometimes find rats when he hears a distant whirr of a motor, and switches directions. Round this part, that's got to be the pulley for the midtown shaft, and he wants to see Delta come back. See how many of them have come back.

Easier to get to R point nine than rat-alley anyway. Tim drops, catches himself, drops again, swings on a line, drops, and lands outside the sight-line of Bruce who's waiting for his team. Doesn't make any difference, though. Bruce says, "Tim, the rat had better be dead," without turning to look.

"Didn't get one," says Tim, breathlessly, and scurries up behind Bruce, taking acknowledgement as permission. "Heard Delta coming and I wanted to see."

Bruce doesn't say anything, and they wait together while the whirring gets louder.

When the doors open, Bruce pulls his weapon, so Tim does too without knowing why. Then he sees.

There's someone else. Someone not on Delta team, not on any team. Tim can feel parts of him that want to run and hide, because that's what he's been drilled to do, thousands of times, but Bruce is right here and he's holding his ground, keeping the muzzle up, so Tim does too.

elseany

"Bruce," says Barb, calm like she didn't just bring in an outsider, like the outsider isn't standing right there looking at Bruce with her creepy eyes. Tim makes himself breathe steady like he learned.

standing right there

"Bruce," says Barb again, and maybe she's not so calm after all, but her hand is on the intruder's shoulder, and Rich is standing to her shoulder, and all of Delta, all of them, even Fitch, standing behind them straight, even though Fitch is looking at his feet.

all

Next to him, Bruce hisses in a breath, and Tim really doesn't want to have to shoot Rich, but he figures if Bruce takes the intruder and Barb, that means he has to take Rich. Tim aims for central mass, because he really doesn't want to screw it up.

"Barbara," says Bruce, in a voice Tim's never heard, that would sound almost friendly if you were completely stupid. "I don't believe you mentioned that you would be bringing guests."

completely stupid

 

"Bruce," says Barb, and Rich interrupts:

"Hey, come on, she's--"

Then Barbara gets it out. "Just because you saved us doesn't make you Dictator, Bruce. We couldn't leave her."

leave

Bruce breathes again, and this time Tim thinks he maybe won't have to shoot Rich. "So you abandoned the objective to bring me-- what's her name?"

Delta seems to think they're safe too. They all try to start talking at once, until Bruce puts up his empty hand to stop them. "Rich?"

Rich shrugs, and twists his mouth up. "She is Poseidon, we think. You should have seen it, Bruce, she was-- She was being kept in a sound-proof room, Bruce, behind two-way mirrors. She can't even talk."

is

"Poseidon is a weapon," says Bruce flatly, "and you brought her here?"

"We couldn't leave her there! There was this-- chair she was chained into. It was swinging upside down while they set off explosions to see if she'd flinch!"

"Did she?" asks Bruce.

"I wouldn't bring you dead weight," says Barb, and Bruce is silent for a moment, then lowers his weapon. Tim breathes, and does the same.

"Well, I suppose Cassiopeia here can find some way to make herself useful," says Bruce.

Delta is all grinning and the girl doesn't look so creepy now. She's got a bit of a smile. Tim takes a better look at her, since she's not going to get killed. She's little, really, maybe even his size. He bets she could fit up in the pipes like he can.

She catches his eye, flicks her gaze up at the pipes for a second, then looks at him. And grins.