He reminded her so much of a fox: sleek but wiry; cunning and adaptable. The way his mouth curled into his infamous half grin gave hint to his knowing slyness. A complete and utter mystery.
Lying back on the roof, eyes scanning the night sky, she inhaled and exhaled deeply. “That seems like a silly question.” She did often wonder who he was. Was he as much of an enigma without the mask as he was with it? Did he pass through crowds, assimilating to Gotham’s populace much like she did? Was he an absolute unknown, easily falling into step – a cog of society’s inner working? Or did he stand out, commanding attention and respect like the Red Hood did?
She struggled with her identity, the split between Barbara Gordon and Batgirl. At one point she felt they were one and the same, but as the years wore on, Batgirl felt like the person she had always strived to be. She was strong, independent, and confident. Things Barbara Gordon just wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. The mask, the cowl, the costume – it all felt like her, more than the glasses and mousy angled face and patterns of freckles that framed her body.
Turning her head slightly to the side, she chuckled. “Of course I do.”
He snorted at her response, a small pshh slipping between his teeth. He knew how she was with technology. If she had wanted to find him, she would have. Gods know there was enough evidence. But that was trust, still sharing information and gadgets with her. There was no prenup for friendship, as nice as it would have been.
But that didn’t really matter. It was the idea of having someone-other than his own network, of course-that was so appealing. She provided him with an unbiased opinion, one that hadn’t been tainted by the League, or his childhood experiences. She didn’t have to know he’d spent time as a political prisoner in Siberia. She didn’t have to know that his father figure had tried to destroy Gotham, and that Jason’s first love’s sister had very nearly succeeded in that same task just two years earlier. All she needed to know was that he cared, goddammit, he cared about this city. After all, that was what had drawn them together. A common pull for justice (regardless of their disagreements on how far to take it, they actually agreed on punishing criminals) and a fierce loyalty to those whom they called their own.
“I’ve looked for you, ya know.” It came out as a rushed whisper, a hurried phrase eager to leave his mind.
“Several times. Nothing. You hide your tracks very well.: He hesitated then, unsure.
"I…I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about following you home, but that left hook is a good enough offense to make itself a defense.” A sheepish chuckle.
“You’re a tough one, Batsie.”
and all of this will never be the same again 