With pursed lips and a scrunched up nose, she looked at him with feigned disgust. “Should we add littering to your no doubt long list of criminal acts?” Bending down, Barbara picked up the spent cigarette and strolled over to the helmeted man. Yanking out his hand, she placed the the trash in his palm. “You should be more careful next time, Darth. Wouldn’t want your DNA getting into the wrong hands.”
A scoff escaped her lips, eyebrows drawn and arched in disbelief. “The great and powerful Red Hood needs my help? Are you concussed? You don’t seem like the type to ask for assistance, let alone from an ally of the bat.”
He raised his hands up and she sensed he was being sincere. Which was an incredibly odd feeling and one she was certain she couldn’t one hundred percent trust. Barbara dropped the sarcastic tone, switching to something a bit more serious. Leaning against one of the railings, she looked over the skyline, taking a moment to consider his request, still stunned he was asking for aid. “How do I know you are being honest? How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”
Barbara didn’t trust him farther than she could throw him – which considering his height and bulk was probably not far at all. But she probably owed him a favor, he had sort of gotten her out of a jam. A really stupid jam, but a jam none the less. She could at least humor his request.
He couldn’t help himself. He smiled when he saw her pick up his scattered bad habit, a genuine smile too. Good thing she’d never know. He accepted the handful of butts, crushing them in his fist before depositing them into a jacket pocket. “Nice to see you again, Padme. Good to see you’re still trying to earn that anti-littering merit badge.” She scoffed.
Despite her accusations of nefarious deeds, crimes, and various other skullduggery, he actually needed her help. Wanted it, too. So he endured her cautious looks, the dripping sarcasm in her voice. Finally, when she finished talking, he spoke.
“You don’t know I’m not lying to you. That’s where trust comes in, Batsie. Just hear me out, okay?” He put his hands in front of him, signalling for her to just let him explain.
“A contact of mine, Boris Ilyinykh, called me this morning. His daughter, Ylena, has been missing since yesterday afternoon. Shit out of luck normally, but Boris tells me she’d been seeing one of the Dimitrov leader’s kid. Some asshole named Anatoly. They’re sex traffickers, primarily.” He stopped, sighing. “I need reliable help, here. Someone I can trust to not storm in there and tip the Russians off. That’s why I’m not using the others here. Too volatile. The Dimitrovs have a warehouse in Randall, and that’s where I want to start.”
He knew she couldn’t see his eyes, but he still bored his into hers. “I need someone here, Batsie. Plus, I’ll owe you one.”
and all of this will never be the same again 