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Barbara Gordon was damn good at her job. It was a point of pride for her, really, being the best at something. And make no bones about it, Oracle was the best. The only people who even came close to rivaling her were Batman himself, and Tim Drake—the latter of which she had a hand in mentoring, so that hardly counted in her book. Regardless, she was part tech wizard, part miracle worker, and one hundred percent done with this shit.
“I’m not asking you to lie to Batman,” Tim wheedled, “I’m just asking you to… not tell the truth?” Barbara pursed her lips. Jason was off in the armory fucking about with her supplies, and Tim would not stop with his incessant begging.
“Erasing the photos of you from my files is a bit more than a lie of omission, Tim,” she pointed out dryly.
“Okay, whose fault is this really, though? You didn’t have to tell me that Damian put it together, or that Bruce was looking into it. You could've left well enough alone and let me hang. So like, you’ve made this an ‘us’ problem,” he reasoned.
“Oh, no. No, no, no. No. You are not blaming this on me!” She pointed at him. “I’m not the one who’s spent ten years avoiding Batman, only to fuck his middle child and gaslight his youngest! You are asking for this, mister, and I am not bailing you out.” She concluded her tirade by popping a sick wheelie and booking it back over to her computer.
“What if you didn’t have to bail him out?” Jason, newly arrived and laden with no fewer than four of her best long-range rifles, spoke from the doorway, drawing the room’s attention.
“... Meaning?” She wasn’t sure that she liked the gleam in his eye.
“Don’t bail Tim out. Let him stew in his mess—”
“Hey! ”
“Love you, baby, but it is a mess,” Jason smiled fondly at his awful, awful boyfriend as he divested himself of his ill-gotten firearms. “All you have to do is claim Stray as one of yours. Tell the Bat and his demon spawn that the shadow they’re hunting is your guy, and that you’ve made that person a promise that they’d never have to deal with the Bats. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am!” Jason jazz handed his way over to the computer, leaning heavily on the desk beside her. He draped a possessive arm around Tim’s shoulders, and pressed a sweet kiss against his temple. They should at least have the decency to not be so fucking cute while ruining her evening, god.
“Bruce’ll insist on knowing who it is, though,” she pointed out.
“Like I’m the first informant you’ve refused to snitch on,” Tim scoffed.
“And how would you know that?” Her eyes narrowed at Tim. “Have you been hacking my files? Again?” Tim shrugged, utterly unrepentant.
“I hate you.”
“You love me,” he countered.
“You are a menace to society!” She declared.
“I’m your menace,” he grinned at her.
“God dammit. I cannot believe you’ve talked me into this,” she grumbled, resolutely ignoring Jason and Tim’s unsubtle fist bump. “Alright, do you two think you can keep quiet and out of the way while I do this, or am I going to have to kick you out of my tower?” She donned her headphones and moused over to the internal call system.
“Wait, you're telling him now?” Jason asked, voice hopeful.
“No time like the present. Now get out of the way, I don’t need you idiots accidentally stepping into frame,” she waved the pair away, motioning to the far wall—well out of sight of her video feed. Tim mimed zipping his lips as Jason dragged him away, both sharing equally feral grins. They were getting way too much joy out of this whole situation, there was no way this could be healthy. With a heavy sigh, Barbara hit the call button. It barely got one ring through before the line connected, Dick’s smiling face staring back at her.
“Babs! Hey gorgeous, what’s kicking?”
“Is B around? I need to talk to him about something.” Dick’s smile dimmed as his posture shifted into Nightwing mode.
“Yeah, of course.” He turned away from the feed to yell deeper into the cave. “B! Oracle on the line for you!” He turned back as heavy footfalls sounded behind him. “Everything okay?”
“Fine, fine. It’s just that thing B asked me to look into—”
“Oracle, report.” The man himself appeared, gently nudging his eldest out of the way. Seats were shuffled until Bruce was sitting in front of the screen, and Dick was hanging out halfway on top of his shoulder. Bruce shot him a look that had Dick scurrying away, before turning his attention back to Barbara.
“That information broker that Damian wanted you to look into—”
“You’ve found him.”
“Didn’t need to find anything, he’s one of mine, B.”
“And why did you not inform me of this upon my initial request?” His frown deepened, the furrow on his brow heavy with unspoken disapproval.
“Because I needed to check with him, first. I’ve been working with that agent for seven years now, but he’s been active for longer than that. He only agreed to work with me after I promised he wouldn’t have to partner with the Bats,” she kept her hands still and quiet in her lap—she knew fidgeting was her biggest tell, and could not afford to be caught in this lie. Not that any of what she was saying was, technically speaking, a lie. She was hoping that would be her saving grace in all of this, when the whole sordid affair eventually came to light (which it so would).
“And why the refusal to work with us? Do you trust this person, Oracle?” Suspicion colored his tone.
“His reasons are his own, B. I trust the guy with my life, that’s all you need to know,” she stated firmly.
“And he’s been active for how long?”
“Ten years, that I know of.” She let the silence hang for a moment, before Bruce let out a heavy sigh.
“It’s not Tim, then.” He almost sounded disappointed.
“Did you want it to be?” She countered, genuinely curious.
“I wanted a reason for all of this. When Tim and I spoke—”
“You never did tell me how that went,” she interrupted.
“It went poorly. The boy thought I was trying to pay him off, or threaten bodily harm.” Jason snorted from his position against the wall, and Barbara had to physically restrain herself from glaring at him. “He had concerning things to say about his parents’ business practices that I think warrant some looking into, but… it was mostly just sad.” Tim’s huff sounded vaguely affronted at that. They have got to shut the hell up!
“Sad how, exactly?” She pressed.
“The distrust of it all. How aware he is of his situation, and how dire it is. I almost wish he had asked for money, at least then I could be sure he’s taken care of.” That was oddly sweet, in a Bruce sort of way.
“But would you have really wanted that for Jason? The kind of person that would ask for a bribe?” She pointed out, though not unkindly.
“No. No, I would not,” he ran a hand over his face, looking every inch his forty-seven years.
“Look, B, far be it from me to tell you how to parent, but—”
“No, no, I know. Firm boundaries. I’ll break the news to Damian tonight and put this to bed for good.” He did not look thrilled at that prospect.
“And do you think he’ll actually listen this time?” She asked (goaded).
“One can only hope. I can’t have my teenager trying to kill a cancer patient, no amount of spin doctoring is going to fix that.” Barbara couldn’t help herself, she let out the loudest, ugliest guffaw of her life—and thank god she did, because the peanut gallery was starting to crack up, too.
“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that, B. That’s all I had for you, I need to pivot to a Birds of Prey project, but call me if you need me, okay?”
“Hn.” Batman cut the line, and the ringing silence of the room lasted approximately 3.7 picoseconds before Tim and Jason had collapsed against each other, breathless with laughter.
“Oh my god, baby, you insinuated that Bruce was some kind of—some kind of mob boss?” Jason was in tears.
“Holy shit I cannot believe he didn’t find any of my off shore accounts!” Tim was clutching his stomach, bent fully over and nearly unable to breathe.
“And the—the, oh my fucking god, the cancer patient!” Jason roared, Tim slapped his shoulder.
“I told you! I told you that was a good idea! I was playing the long con!” He wheezed.
“You weren’t playing shit you freaky little goblin. I never thought I could love someone this much,” there was something deeply, deeply wrong with their relationship. Barbara cleared her throat.
“Sorry, sorry Babs,” Tim tried to compose himself.
“Grade A performance Barbie, you really outdid yourself there!” Jason was wiping tears from his eyes.
“Are you two quite finished?” She asked primly, a scowl on her face. She would not reward this behavior, goddammit!
“Yeah—yes, totally. Thank you.” Tim kicked Jason’s shin as he dissolved into further giggles.
“If this backfires, you are on your own. Do I make myself clear?” She pursed her lips, waiting for a response. Tim managed to pull himself together first.
“Crystal. If I go down I’m not bringing you with me, hand to god.” Tim swore. She didn’t know how she’d possibly escape that burning building, but whatever, that was tomorrow Barbara’s problem.
“Fine, fine. Now leave me alone and go commit minor arson or something, Jesus.” She turned back to her computer, an effective dismissal as any.
“We owe you one, Barbie!” Jason called, gathering up his pile of guns and wrapping an arm around Tim's shoulders to drag him from the room.
“We owe you a million!” Tim corrected him, helpfully taking one of Jason's rifles and nearly skipping out the door and into the waiting arms of Gotham.
There was no way this wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass.