Tim didn’t particularly notice the tension that filtered in as he undid firewall after firewall. He should have, but he was known for being ungraceful in most social situations and with most given cues, especially while sitting in front of a key board— he was distracted at best. Even if the teen did notice, why was the tension there? Tim wasn’t sure if Hood was concerned, but a defensive man like him, with personal business going through the company he had just shown as hack-able? And a security company none the less? Well, he figured he could at least reassure.
“It’s not bad security— in case you were concerned. There aren’t too many people who could break those encryptions, and even less could do it as quickly. They’d set off alarms before they got anything. So if you wanted to help them improve their… security,” Though the company was apparently based around the idea of having good security, the hacker wasn’t here to judge. “They’re already on the right track.” He was going to suggest a few recommendations, but he really was making an attempt to not push all Hood’s buttons. Tim was trying not to sound snotty, really, he was. But, well, when it came to computers, sometimes he just knew better.
Behind his masks, the small boy tried not to cringe. Those were all horrible names, and Count Chocula? Wasn’t that, like, a breakfast cereal? One his parents would never have let him have he was sure, but that didn’t matter right now. A name, did he need a name? He supposed he didn’t really have one at the moment. Bruce called him Tim, but only in private. Cass had avoided a name when she patched into the cave and if her penchant for strange words was anything to go by, he wasn’t about to turn to her for advice now.
Turning in the chair, Tim watched the screens for another moment, eyes fixated before he realized that watching wouldn’t speed up the process, the computer would tell him when it was done. There were a lot of people in Gotham, and even with the program, not all the cameras in Gotham were currently working. Sighing, the teen turned to face Red Hood, but didn’t move from the chair. Small. He was so small in comparison, dwarfed even as he was elevated in the large seat. Tim’s feet dangled off the floor, the height of the seat adjusted to Bruce’s size, and he felt self conscious, tiny. But he couldn’t. He was in his element, he was safe here, safe with Cass, so he took a breath to calm himself and looked up. Tim was glad for the ridiculous masks they both wore, looking The Red Hood in the face was hard enough without direct eye contact.
“I don’t have a name.” He answered truthfully. He had a sense of humor, after all, just maybe not the one Hood was expecting. “I’m on lease.”
Hmmph.
Her mumbled explanations did little to help his annoyance at being hacked;
this was his company, after all, and they were trusted to handle things discreetly. The fact that they weren’t really security was unimportant; they were hired mercenaries, plain and simple. Still, he’d make sure to send the call down the line that they needed a network overhaul.
The girl seemed to reach an understanding in her own head that she had a guest, and spun around so quickly that she had to stop the chair with her arm.
Her explanation wasn’t satisfying in the slightest; everyone had a codename.
“Right, on lease.” So she was new, and she was fucking Dick. He’d have to ask the kid about her, on the off chance he wasn’t dead from this fucking blackout.
The computer continued to click and buzz, and Jason found himself oddly antsy as he considered losing the teenager that had become so much like a brother to him over the past years. Brash, violent, and unpredictable, Dick had become everything Jason had been as a child; even better, really, because he hadn’t been killed on a mission.
Hopefully.
“So tell me, Fruit Bat. What got you into the service of Gotham? Orphan? Abusive childhood? A knack for attracting trouble? No one has a healthy past, and I’m curious. What made you decide to cast your lots with Bruce?”
and all of this will never be the same again 