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Chapter Text

When Steph had put on her costume that evening ready for a night of spoiling her father’s plans, she had not expected to be beaten to it.

After the first few breakouts and crime sprees Cluemaster committed, Batman and the other heroes slowed down their investigations, only going after him if he did something particularly heinous and noteworthy.

Steph, on the other hand, kept a careful eye on the news, and whenever there was a breakout at Blackgate, she would comb all the news sites, checking to see if her deadbeat father was one of the escapees. Much to her annoyance, this time she was unlucky and Arthur Brown was indeed listed as one of the missing prisoners.

And so she’d donned the eggplant cape once again and headed out into the night. Thankfully, the summer break had begun the week before, so she wouldn’t be suffering the ill-effects of staying up all night the next day at school.

It was oddly liberating, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, using the few tips she’d learned from Robin before Batman had forbidden him from seeing her. Still, it was a wonderful feeling, the rush of wind through her hair as she soared.

Were this any other criminal, Spoiler would have had no leads, but after his last spate of crimes, she’d taken extra care to sift through everything that had been left behind at Cluemaster’s last hideout, and eventually she’d found a list of contacts.

Granted, it wasn’t much to go on, something proved by the first few addresses on the list being total busts. But it was better than nothing, and Steph wanted nothing more than her scumbag of a father put back behind bars where he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

It was quite the surprise when she’d made her way halfway down the list and was investigating an abandoned warehouse in the docks of Old Gotham to find her father already trussed up and beaten to nearly a pulp. It was even more of a surprise when she recognised the green-suited man standing over Cluemaster’s prone body and flanked by two women.

“Artie, Artie, Artie.” The Riddler tutted disapprovingly. “Riddle me this: what was it I told you last time you were out of Blackgate?” Steph’s father merely groaned in response and the Riddler sighed deeply. “I told you to get your own schtick and leave the puzzling to the greatest mind in Gotham.”

With another theatrical sigh, Riddler began pacing back and forth, twirling his cane whilst Spoiler got a little closer, crawling through the rafters to get a better view. “One might think you’re just as crazy as me to cross me like this, but I’ve read your files. Perfectly sane, though the fact that you didn’t listen to my warning before might suggest otherwise.”

Shaking his head, Riddler paused in his pacing to look down at Cluemaster. “I hate to do this, Artie, but I can’t have people stealing my thing. I have a reputation to uphold, and it’s hard enough getting people to take riddles seriously.” Continuing to shake his head, Riddler raised his cane like a golf club and brought it swinging down to smash into Arthur Brown’s head with a sickening crack, and the prone man went limp.

Steph’s stomach lurched at the violence as Riddler raised his cane again and smashed it into her father’s stomach. She couldn’t let this continue. No matter how much she hated her father, she couldn’t just let Riddler beat him to death.

“No!” She yelled, springing into action and dropping from the ceiling. Her shout did succeed in distracting the Riddler and his henchwomen long enough for her to land, though she’d misjudged just how far it was and she winced in pain as she hit the ground.

Not one to let a little pain stop her, Steph threw herself at the Riddler, colliding with the skinny man’s midriff and knocking them both to the floor.

“Ack!” The man yelped as Steph straddled him and cocked a fist back ready to land a solid punch on his jaw. Admittedly, this wasn’t the best plan she had ever come up with. In fact calling it a plan was rather charitable, but she needed to do something.

This impetuous proved to have been a terrible idea, as before she could punch the Riddler, her wrist was grabbed as was her other arm and she was roughly hauled off the Riddler.

“Fuck! I thought all the bats were supposed to be busy tonight!” He grumbled, crawling to his feet and straightened out his suit whilst Steph flailed madly to get free. “Since when did Artie have a sidekick?”

“I’m not his sidekick!” Steph protested hotly, trying to free herself from the henchwomen’s grip. “I hate the asshole, but I am a hero, so I can’t just let you kill him!”

“Hmmmm, no you’re not are you. You’re the Spoiler, I read about you.” His suit restored to its usual smartness, Riddler stroked his chin as he examined Spoiler closely. “Cheap material. Is this a curtain?” He plucked at the fabric of Spoiler’s cape. “From your voice and accent, I’m assuming teenage girl. Gothamite too, born and bred.”

The Riddler straightened up humming in thought as one of the henchwomen spoke up. “Uh, boss, why not just take off her mask?”

“Because there’s no fun in that, Echo.” Riddler rolled his eyes. “This is a puzzle I intend to solve without such easy clues.” He shook his head sadly as he started to pace back and forth. “Cheap materials suggest no funding from Batman or his associates. So, a normal teenage girl from Gotham who hates Cluemaster in particular.” A broad grin slid across Riddler’s face as he turned to look at Spoiler.

“A pleasure to meet you, Stephanie Brown.” Steph ceased in her struggling as the Riddler dropped into a polite bow before continuing. “You and your mother did a good job of keeping out of the news whenever Artie here got himself arrested, but I always do my research.” Riddler grinned smugly, as Steph let out a deep sigh.

“Alright, fine, you got me. You’ve metaphorically unmasked the Spoiler. Now what happens. You gonna kill me too?”

“What?!” Riddler looked aghast at the suggestion. “Who do you take me for, the Joker?”

“You were going to kill him.” Steph jerked her head behind her at her unconscious father.

“And I took no pleasure from it. It’s just business.” The Riddler rubbed at the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “And I’m not about to kill some dumb kid who stumbled upon this.”

“Hey, I’m not some dumb kid!” Steph protested hotly, starting to squirm again. “I have been stopping Cluemaster’s sorry-ass crimes ever since he started! Me being here wasn’t some accident.”

“Perhaps not.” Riddler’s expression turned pensive as he gave Steph a once over. “I hate to admit it, but Artie’s not a moron, though he barely compares to my shining intellect, of course, and it seems that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Uh, what?” Steph cocked her head in confusion in lieu of being able to make any visible expressions.

“Now I’m just wondering how much you could achieve with a real genius mentoring you.” Riddler continued to muse to himself, a small smirk on his face as he turned back to Steph. “Tell me, Miss Brown, how do you feel about green?”

“Okay, what the fuck?” Steph gave Riddler her best incredulous look from behind her mask. “Are you seriously about to ask me what I think you’re about to ask me?”

“Well, I could always do with more associates who are on my intellectual level. No offence, ladies.”

“Nah we get it, Eddie, we’re here for the muscle and other stuff.” The henchwoman who wasn’t Echo told Riddler.

“Exactly, and I see some promise in you, Miss Brown. A sharp mind that with training could have a chance of challenging my own.”

“You really do think very highly of yourself, don’t you?” Steph rolled her eyes. “You seriously think the girl who dresses up as a superhero to stop her asshole of a father from committing crimes is going to join up with you?”

“Well, not without the right incentives.” The Riddler smirked, leaning on his cane as he continued with his theatrics. “Just think of it as a summer internship. Just as illegal as most others, except you get paid on this one. Very generously, I might add.”

“I’m pretty sure working for a supervillain is more illegal than companies exploiting young people and flouting labour laws.” Steph pointed out and Riddler shrugged.

“Perhaps, but just think of the benefits. Good pay, I know you and your mother haven’t had it easy after the divorce, something to do with yourself over the summer, you get to spend time with one of the greatest minds in the world, and best of all, you’ll be associated with the Riddler instead of Cluemaster.”

“You lost me with the last one.”

“Just think of how embarrassing it would be if people did find out that you’re the daughter of this hack.” Riddler walked around Steph, the two henchwomen shuffling around so Steph could watch as he kicked the unconscious Cluemaster in the stomach. “Nobody would ever take you seriously. Then again, I doubt they take you seriously now anyway.”

Steph didn’t answer and instead looked away, the familiar feelings of irritation bubbling in her chest. She wouldn’t even be in this position if bat-brain would just listen to her and take Cluemaster seriously.

“If Batman or the others did take you seriously, they’d have taken you under their wing by now. But all they see you as is Cluemaster’s daughter, not worth their time or efforts.” Steph looked up to see Riddler shaking his head in sorrow. “I disagree. I see potential in you, Stephanie Brown, potential to be more than a C-tier vigilante and the daughter of some C-tier villain.”

Steph didn’t know what was weirder, the fact that the Riddler was even making this offer or that she was actually considering it just a little.

“Do I need to answer now?” She asked, surprising even herself.

“I suppose not, it is quite a big decision.” Riddler said after a moment of contemplation, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. “You have until… let’s say 17:00 tomorrow. Wait, is it still Tuesday?” He looked at the henchwoman who wasn’t Echo who nodded. “Excellent, it’s always good to make sure with this sort of thing.”

“Um, boss, are you sure this is a good idea?” Echo asked, looking curiously down at Steph. “Inviting a hero wannabe to our hideout and stuff.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with her.” Steph added, unable to keep her mouth shut. “What’s to stop me from telling Batman and sending him to wherever you want me to go, and using that as my in with the bats?”

“Then it’ll have been a wasted opportunity. Not much lost on my part, just this time for the sales pitch. I suppose if I were a more boorish sort I could threaten you and your mother, but that’s not the sort of man I am.” Initially, Steph had found the Riddler’s confidence in himself rather grating, but she was getting oddly used to his smug superiority.

“Really?” Steph glanced down at her father’s still unconscious body.

“Like I said, just business with him. I’ll even sweeten the deal a little and not kill him right now.” Riddler said magnanimously, though it was punctuated with a small kick to the small of Cluemaster’s back. “But I would like you to think for a moment whether Batman will accept you even if you do lead him to my hideout.” Finished with his spiel, Riddler gestured to his henchwomen. “Let her go, ladies.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the two women complied, letting Steph flop to the floor and stagger to her feet. Standing up straight, she was presented with the small card the Riddler had fished out of his jacket earlier. “I do hope to see you tomorrow, Miss Brown. Come along, ladies, the night is still young and I feel like seeing dear Ozzy.”

With that, the Riddler turned on his heel and strutted away, his henchwomen in tow, leaving a still rather baffled Stephanie alone in the warehouse with her unconscious father.

It had taken Steph an annoyingly long time to drag her father’s unconscious body out of the warehouse and leave him somewhere where the cops could find him and take him back to Blackgate.

She’d considered staying out for a while longer, maybe see if she could find Robin and offer a hand, but her heart wasn’t really in it, so she’d returned home. When she woke up the next morning, she was half-convinced it had all been a dream, but the reports that Arthur Brown had been arrested and reimprisoned, as well as the business card tucked into her utility belt, said otherwise.

She spent a while just staring at the card, turning it over in her hand. There was nothing to really signify it had come from the Riddler, no question marks emblazoned upon it or anything like that. Several times, Steph considered contacting Robin via the emergency number he’d given her, but everytime she reached for her phone, something held her back.

Eventually, she got up from her bed and emerged into the kitchen of the small apartment she shared with her mom, lured by the smell of waffles.

“Hey, Mom, how was work?” She asked, sliding into her seat and grabbing her fork to start digging into the plate of waffles in front of her.

“Tiring, it was a long shift.” Her mom sighed, sitting down with her own plate which she picked at moodily. “And I got some bad news this morning. The landlord’s raising the rent again.”

“Oh…” Steph looked down at her waffles. They’d known this was coming for a few weeks now. The rent always went up at around this time of year, and they were already just barely scraping by.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not your problem. I’ll just see if I can pick up some extra shifts at the hospital.” Steph’s mother reassured her, though her expression was still rather dour. The card sitting in Steph’s pocket burned as she made up her mind.

“Actually, Mom, you don’t need to do that.” Steph said slowly, trying to work out how she was going to do this whilst also pressing down the guilt that bubbled in her stomach. “Whilst you were out last night, I was doing some research and I found an internship, a paid one, that I’m a shoe-in for.”

“Oh, no, sweetie, you don’t need to do that. We’ll manage.” Steph’s mom tried to dissuade her, but Steph shook her head.

“No, I want to help, and it’s not like I had anything else planned to do this summer.” Steph shrugged, her plan already forming in her head. “I was going to do it anyway.”

“Well, if you say so…” Steph’s mom still looked unconvinced by this as Steph continued to fight off the feelings of guilt. Was she actually about to turn to a life of crime in order to help support her mother? The answer was obvious. Of course she would, she’d do anything to help out her mom.

“I need to swing by the office to let them know I’m taking the job.” Steph said, quickly shovelling the waffles into her mouth. “Better do it quickly before they hire someone else.”

“If you’re sure, dear. I suppose it would be good for you to get out of the apartment more.”

“Exactly. Love you, mom.” Steph stuffed the last of the waffles into her mouth and got up. Pressing a quick kiss to her mom’s cheek, Steph rushed back into her room to get dressed and look up how to get to the address the Riddler had given to her.

A few moments later she was ready to go, and with a wave to her mother, Steph left the apartment and headed downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Stepping out into the bright summer sun and trying not to breathe too deeply, lest she smell the garbage that became more pungent during the summer months, Steph started towards the local subway station.

The address Riddler had given her was in Burnley, which wasn’t too far away from the apartment, but Steph didn’t really feel like walking today. It took her a little time to find the building, which for all intents and purposes looked like a normal residential brownstone.

She’d half expected some abandoned building like the one she’d found her father in last night, but then again, the Riddler was a far more successful villain and could clearly afford better premises. Shaking her head, Steph walked up to the front door and pressed the button on the intercom. It buzzed and after a moment, a sharp voice spoke from it, which Steph recognised as belonging to one of the henchwomen from last night.

“Who is it?”

“Stephanie Brown. I’m here to talk to Mr Nygma about the ‘internship’.” Steph waited anxiously for a moment before the voice crackled over the speaker, sounding more than a little nonplussed.

“Come on up.”

Chapter Text

The building’s foyer was surprisingly empty, but then again, she doubted anyone but the Riddler owned these premises. It all looked normal enough, but when she glanced back at the door as it swung shut behind her, she could tell that all those locks on it were far from standard.

The Riddler seemed to have a taste for old school design, all wood panelling in the empty room and an old style cage lift which had the staircase wrapped around it. Steph wasn’t quite sure she trusted the rickety looking contraption and opted to take the stairs instead, up past several clearly uninhabited floors until she reached one with a door labelled as ‘Enigmatic Puzzles LLC’, through which Steph could see there was a light on.

After considering for a moment whether to knock or not, Steph decided it was pointless and simply entered the room. For some reason, it was made up to be exactly like a secretary’s office, and sitting behind the desk was a tall blonde woman who had her feet propped up on the desk as she flipped through a magazine.

“He’s waiting for you, just through there.” She said in a bored tone, gesturing vaguely at the door on the opposite side of the room, not bothering to look up from her magazine.

Rolling her eyes at the woman’s lack of attention, Steph crossed the room and opened the door to reveal a large wooden desk covered in pieces of plastic and metal. Sitting behind it and fiddling with some of the pieces was the Riddler. It took Steph a moment to recognise him without the green hat and purple domino mask.

“Ah, Miss Brown, good of you to finally show up.” He gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he abandoned what he was doing and steepled his fingers.

“Yeah, well, I had to give my mom some reason for going out.” Steph defended herself as she sat down and looked curiously at the man sitting opposite her. If she’d just run into him on the street, she would never have guessed that he was one of Gotham’s most infamous criminals. In his rumpled white shirt and square glasses, he looked for all intents and purposes like any other office worker.

“Of course, of course.” The Riddler adjusted his glasses and started shoving the chaos on his desk aside. “Given the fact that Batman hasn’t come and knocked down my door yet, I take it you’d like to take me up on my offer of employment.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got much else to do with myself.” Steph shrugged. “And there’s far worse people I could be working for.”

“That is true. Imagine being one of those poor kids fighting over a Disney internship.” The Riddler shuddered. “Anyway, there’s quite a bit of paperwork we need to get out of the way before we have you baffling the minds of Gotham’s finest.”

“What?” Steph blinked in surprise. “Paperwork?”

“Well, of course.” The riddler gave Steph a condescending look. “You’re a smart girl, Miss Brown, I’m sure you understand how important it is for the money my organisation acquires to look legitimate.”

“I’ll be honest, I kinda assumed you just spent it at places where they don’t care how dirty the money is, like black market arms dealers or whatever.” Steph admitted. She may have a criminal for a father, but that didn’t mean she knew the ins and outs of how Gotham’s criminals’ finances worked.

“Well, I suppose, to be fair, that is how people like the Joker operate, but only because he can’t be bothered to launder his money correctly, and even he’s not crazy enough to go up against the IRS.” Riddler shook his head in irritation. “But no, I run a tight organisation here, and it’s bad for my reputation if the tax people come knocking on my henchmen’s doors for tax evasion.”

“Is that why this office belongs to ‘Enigmatic Puzzles LLC’?” Steph asked, putting air quotes around the company name. “Because I’ve got to say, did you really have to pick a name that’s so obviously linked back to you?”

“Please, Victor owns half the ice cream shops in Gotham to launder his funds.” Riddler snorted, waving his hand dismissively. “No, I have a far more diverse portfolio than just these particular holdings, but for the purposes of your ‘internship’, you will be employed by Enigmatic Puzzles.”

“And it’s all above board, is it?” Steph raised an eyebrow.

“As far as the tax man is concerned, yes.” Riddler smirked. “I trust I don’t need to go through how money laundering works with you, otherwise I might have made the wrong choice of apprentice.”

“I know how money laundering works.” Steph said irritably, remembering that project she’d done for school on how Gotham’s criminal enterprises used most of the businesses in Gotham to launder their money. It had only earned her a B too.

“Good. Just so you’re clear on what it is you’re doing on paper, you’re working for Enigmatic Puzzles LLC as an intern in our R&D department.” The Riddler reached into a drawer on his desk and pulled out a contract which he slid over the desk to Steph. “That said, if you do have any ideas for brainteasers we can manufacture, please do share them and I’ll throw in a bonus.”

“Wait, you mean this company actually makes puzzles?” Steph asked as she started to read over the contract.

“Of course. How do you think I relax after a hard day of bank robbery and confounding Batman?” The Riddler asked with a smirk. “Enigmatic Puzzles is the parent company of the Toybox. We need some reason to reinvest all that money we make selling all those toys.” Steph’s jaw dropped.

“You’re kidding me, right?” She asked, now completely ignoring the contract she’d just been looking over. “You’re telling me that you own one of the largest toy store franchises on the East coast and you’re still a supervillain?!”

“Technically, the company is owned by a Mr Eduardo Ropecabezas.” Riddler pointed out, before shaking his head. “Look, I’m not going to go into the legal complexities of my many shell companies I created in order to legitimise my criminal activities. Just sign the damn contract.”

“In a second.” Steph grumbled, continuing to read through the papers he’d handed her. “I’m not about to sign something without first reading it all the way through.” Rolling her eyes, Steph looked over the contract as Riddler sighed deeply.

“You know, that’s not actually a description of what you’re doing, it’s just for various records and things in case we get audited.” Riddler pointed out, and Steph sighed as well.

“It still could end up being a legally binding document. Not that I don’t trust you to put something in here that’s not on the up and up, but I don’t trust you.” Steph lowered the paper to look the Riddler in the eye. “I would have thought that you’d want someone who thought things through critically as your ‘apprentice’.”

“A valid point.” Riddler conceded, sitting back in his chair. “Carry on.” With Riddler’s blessing, Steph resumed her reading of the document until she reached the subject of remuneration.

“Um, you said that this was for official records, right?” Riddler nodded, already fiddling with his pieces again. “So that would mean that this is actually how much you’re going to pay me.” Again the Riddler nodded. “This is way more than interns are normally paid. Like, way, way more.”

“I am aware.” The Riddler smirked. “Enigmatic Puzzles is one of the foremost designers of puzzles and brainteasers, and we pay our employees very well.”

“Your employees being who? Me and your two henchwomen?”

“We also offer competitive rates to our many short-term contractors.” The Riddler’s grin frew only wider as he steepled his fingers. “Including various health benefits for bat-related injuries and paying for legal fees.”

“Wow, if I didn’t know who you really were, I could’ve sworn this was a legitimate business.” She hated to say it, but Steph was actually mildly impressed with the forethought Riddler had put into his operation.

“I am a professional, and fooling the police and their financial crimes division, thus proving my intellectual superiority, is an amusing diversion.” Riddler shrugged. “Now, are you going to sign or not?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just gimme a sec and a pen.” Steph grumbled, skimming through the last page. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that Steph knew the contract was completely bogus to begin with.

Taking the pen the Riddler offered, Steph signed her name on the dotted line and dated the contract before handing it back to the Riddler for him to countersign.

“Excellent, Welcome on board, Ms Brown.” Signing the papers with a flourish, the Riddler opened up the drawer and stuffed the contract into it before getting to his feet and straightening out his shirt. “I’ll file that properly later, right now we have other important things to do.”

“Like what?” Steph asked, following suit.

“Well, firstly, I need to introduce you to the rest of the team and get you matching with the dress code, as well as a name, and all of that’s before I even get started on training you.” Riddler reeled off as he walked around the desk, picking up an offensively plain brown suit jacket from the coat stand as he went.

“Hold on, training?” Steph asked incredulously, following her new employer as he walked to the door. “Nobody said anything about training.”

“What part of ‘apprentice’ did you not understand?” The Riddler paused before opening the door. “You have a natural aptitude and intellect, but it still needs honing before it can even begin to be matched against Batman and the others. Thus, training.”

“Right…” Steph wasn’t entirely sold on this, but she was forced to run after Riddler as he left the room. He didn’t go very far as he stopped in front of his blonde henchwoman.

“Dierdre, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our little organisation.” The henchwoman finally took notice of Steph as she lowered her magazine and looked at her in surprise.

“You actually hired her, boss?” She asked incredulously, looking between Steph and the Riddler. “I thought you were just joking.”

“Dierdre, you should know by now that I don’t joke about things like that.” The Riddler shook his head in disappointment.

“Yeah, well, just so long as she’s not getting paid more than me or Nina, we’re good.” Diedre shrugged, returning her attention to her magazine.

“You’re welcome to discuss your salaries at a later date, right now we have an appointment with the tailor.” Riddler gave Dierdre a charming smile before walking towards the exit of the offices. “We need to get Miss Brown something more suitable to wear.”

“I really hope you’re not going to dress her up in fishnets like you got me and Nina to do.” Dierdre gave Riddler a disapproving look. “She’s only like fifteen.”

“Sixteen, actually.” Steph corrected, though she gave the Riddler a hard look. “And there’d better be no fishnets. Do I look like Black Canary?”

“Of course there’ll be no fishnets.” The Riddler groaned, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. “You’d probably pull them off about as badly as I would. No, we’re getting you a nice tailored suit, and before you ask, yes, it will be a woman’s cut.” The man rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “What is with you people and doubting me?”

“You used to wear a bright green unitard covered in question marks.” Steph pointed out, and Dierdre had to stifle a laugh at the look on the Riddler’s face.

“We do not mention that regrettable phase.” He hissed as he blushed furiously. “Besides, Ozzy said it looked rather flattering.”

“Well, if Ozzy said so, it must be true.” Dierdre snickered, holding up her hands in surrender as the Riddler gave her a look.

“Come on, we’re wasting valuable time. Dierdre, if you could tell Nina about your new coworker and start sorting her out with all the passwords.” Riddler grumbled, leading the way out of the offices with Steph following dutifully after him.

“You know, you seem to be putting a lot of trust in someone who’s a known associate of the batfamily.” Steph said in an awkward attempt to restart conversation. “As far as you know, I might be trying to gain your trust and greater access to your operations. Not that I am, of course.” She added hastily as the Riddler gave her a look.

“Of course such a thought occurred to me, which is why you aren’t getting full access. A necessary precaution, you understand. But more importantly, I know you, Miss Brown, or at least I know the sort of person you are.” Steph frowned at this. She didn’t like the idea of the Riddler claiming that she knew her that well.

“And what sort of person is that?”

“You’re impulsive, and wouldn’t have the patience for something like an undercover operation like this.” The Riddler explained nonchalantly as they walked down the stairs. “The current Robin, on the other hand? Something like that would be right up his alley.”

Steph’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the mention of her sometimes-boyfriend. That was definitely a conversation that they’d need to have at a later date, if she ever decided to don the Spoiler outfit again, that was.

“I feel like I should be offended by that.” She said after an expectant silence, earning a small chuckled from the Riddler.

“Think of it as something to improve upon. Patience is a valuable asset.” They’d reached the ground floor by now and were just about to leave the building when a thought occurred to Steph.

“Um, since we’re going out in public and you’re all...” She gestured to the Riddler’s nauseatingly boring attire. “I don’t think calling you Riddler is going to be particularly useful, nor is Mr Nygma.”

“No, you’re quite right.” The Riddler hummed in thought, stroking his chin. “I suppose whilst we are incognito, you can refer to me as Mr Nashton.”

“Alright, then.” Steph nodded in agreement, and with that, Riddler opened up the door and led the way out into the heat of the Gotham summer. “So we’re going to see a tailor, then?”

“Yes, he does all the outfits for people in our line of work, and there is absolutely no way I am letting you run around in that thing you call a costume any more. I’m surprised mr rich and brooding let you out in that thing.”

“He never ‘let’ me out.” Steph huffed, having to jog a little in order to keep up with the Riddler’s long strides. “Nor did he ‘let’ me do anything. That jerk made no secret of how much he disapproved of me.”

“Yet you still went out night after night.” Riddler actually sounded mildly approving of her as they dodged around the foot traffic, heading towards the subway station. “You have conviction. I admire that. Though it is bordering on recklessness for you to wear a curtain for a cape.”

“I made the best of what I had.” Steph shrugged. She was actually rather proud of her Spoiler outfit, it had taken her ages to learn how to sew and get it right.

“Well, I still think it’s rather irresponsible for the bat not to outfit you when you made it clear that you were going to do things with or without his approval.” Stephanie had to stifle a laugh at how indignant the Riddler sounded on her behalf. It was surreal to say the least, to have a supervillain be annoyed at Batman for not taking responsibility for her safety.

“In any case, you can rest assured that I do not intend to spare any expense on your equipment, Miss Brown.” He finished with a haughty sniff, which he appeared to regret as they were just passing one of the many overflowing dumpsters in this part of town.

“Right…” Their conversation came to a brief halt as they descended into the subway, and Steph was mildly surprised that the Riddler didn’t just jump the turnstiles and instead scanned a card before passing through the barriers.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be if I were caught by transport police for not buying a ticket?” He asked Steph when he noticed her incredulous look. “I’d be laughed out of Gotham.”

Steph just nodded solemnly and bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing as Riddler took another flight of stairs down to the downtown line. Soon they were on the train being jostled and shoved around by the passengers, and Steph had to wonder how they’d react if they knew the person whose feet they were treading on was a supervillain.

“Is there a reason we’re taking the subway and not a cab?” Steph asked as she was elbowed in the side of the head for the third time. “I would have expected you to at least cough up a cab fare, or to have a car.”

“Harder to be tracked this way, and the tailor does not need any unwanted attention brought to him.” The Riddler explained patiently. “He tries to stay away from that side of our business.”

“I see…” At the mention of the tailor, something else occurred to Stephanie, something that the Riddler had said just before they left the office. “Why did you specify that this suit I was going to get would be a women's cut?”

“Well, because…” The Riddler gestured at her as best as he could in the cramped carriage. “You know, in case you thought I was being insensitive or something about your… status.”

“Wow, that has got to be possibly the most awkward way anyone has ever phrased that.” Steph snorted with laughter, getting even more amused by how incensed the Riddler looked at her reaction.

“I’m trying to be a half-decent employer here.” He grumbled, folding his arms and stumbling as the carriage rounded a corner. “So excuse me for trying to make you feel welcome.”

“You’re good, you’re good.” Steph reassured the man, still giggling. “I appreciate the thought, and I’m sure I’ll be in good hands with this tailor guy.”

“He’s the best at what he does.” The Riddler confirmed, mollified by Steph’s reassurances. “We get off at the next stop.”

“Great. I wonder if he does work in eggplant…”

Chapter Text

Much like the Riddler’s office, the Tailor’s workshop was not what Steph had expected.

“It’s literally just a tailor.” She said, trying not to sound disappointed as she looked at the shopfront, whilst the Riddler snorted.

“Of course it is. What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, something a bit less obvious for the guy who apparently makes all the costumes for Gotham’s rogues?” Steph wondered for a moment whether her father had ever paid a visit here. Probably not, the cheapskate almost certainly made his own costume to save on costs.

“Making our costumes isn’t his only business, you know.” Riddler sighed, leading the way to the door. “As I said before, we need various ways to make our money look legitimate, and he was a regular tailor before Ozzy commissioned him.”

Slightly hesitantly, Steph followed the Riddler into the shop, the doorbell jingling as the door opened and shut behind them and a voice called out from the backroom. “I’ll be there in a moment!” Whilst waiting, Steph had a look around the store. It was fairly small with only a few things on display, all out of Steph’s usual price range, but Steph was fairly certain that this was the sort of establishment that didn’t need big displays, given its clientele.

There was a bustling from the backroom, and a well-dressed and spindly man sporting a pair of glasses balanced precariously on the end of his nose emerged, breaking into a smile as he saw the Riddler.

“Ah, Mr Nashton, here for a new suit or repairs?” He asked in a surprisingly jovial voice for someone about to do work for a known criminal.

“A new suit, but not for me.” The Riddler stepped aside to allow Steph to approach the Tailor, whose eyes widened at the sight of her, before he gave the Riddler a hard look.

“Really, Edward? You of all people are recruiting a child to do your dirty work?” Both Steph and the Riddler protested at the same time, talking over each other.

“I’m not a child, I’m sixteen!”

“She was already going out to fight crime wearing a curtain!” They both stopped and glared at each other whilst the Tailor looked between the two.

“Are you seriously going to keep holding the curtain thing against me?” Steph demanded. “I’m poor, okay? I did the best with what I could get.”

“The fact that you used to go out in a curtain is exactly why I brought you here in the first place!” Riddler pointed out in annoyance, and Steph was about to protest further, but she was interrupted by the Tailor.

“You used to fight crime wearing a curtain?!” He sounded absolutely appalled by this and Steph blushed a little.

“It wasn’t as though I was only wearing a curtain.” She mumbled shame-facedly as the Tailor shook his head.

“I take it back, Edward, you could not have brought her to me sooner. And I suppose if she’s foolish enough to go out and fight crime without support from Batman or his associates, working for you is a lot safer. At least this way she’s less likely to get shot by some thugs.” The Tailor said, though he continued to shake his head disapprovingly.

“How do you know I didn’t get any support from Batbrain?”

“Have you not seen Batman’s costume? Or those of his associates?” The Tailor asked, raising his eyebrows. “They are works of art, using cutting-edge materials I could only dream of working with. With this lot I have to stick to things I can acquire commercially.”

“I see…” Steph hadn’t really paid much attention to Robin’s costume to know it was that fancy, but she did know it was a lot better than her attempts.

“Anyway, Arnie, we need to get Miss Brown here fitted for a suit with all the extras.” The Riddler cut in, eager to get back to business.

“And what are ‘all the extras’?” Steph asked. If she was going to be the one to wear this thing, she wanted to know what exactly it was.

“Oh the usual, bulletproof and stab-proof lining, secret pockets, a slightly roomier cut on the jacket to allow for a shoulder holster...” Steph blanched a little at the thought of carrying and using a gun. “Lockpicks sewn into the lining too, as well as a few other useful things. Oh, and my personal favourite, razorblades under the lapel.” The Tailor listed off the features as he started taking notes on a piece of paper, whilst Steph raised an eyebrow at the last one.

“You’d be surprised how many people think grabbing you by the lapels is a good idea.” The Riddler explained, carefully folding back the lapel of his jacket to show off a row of blades just underneath. “These’ll make them think twice about trying something like that.”

“I take it she’ll be wanting gloves as well.” Arnie asked, looking up from his notes.

“Of course, weighted knuckles, as usual.” Riddler confirmed before looking Steph over. “Shoes to match the suit as well, the reinforced ones.”

“He’s a glover and cobbler too?” Steph asked in amusement as Arnie raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hatter as well, but don’t tell Jervis, or he’ll have my head.” He added, making a small note. “Makes far more sense to have just one person to go to for all your costuming needs, and it means I make more money.” Really, Steph shouldn’t have been surprised that the Tailor’s main motivation for doing this sort of work was money. He probably made a lot out of it.

“I think that’s pretty much all she’s going to need… Oh and don’t forget a bowler as well, got to keep the aesthetic.”

“You and your aesthetic, Edward.” Arnie rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he finished writing. “Well, let’s get Miss Brown measured up, and then I can start pricing things for you. If you’d follow me.” He gestured for Steph to follow him into the backroom, but Steph made no move to.

“Hold on, you’re going to be the one measuring me?” Steph asked incredulously.

“Well, of course, I am the one who’ll be making the suit for you.”

“Don’t you have, I don’t know, a woman who can do it for you? Like, how do the Sirens get their costumes?” Steph asked, more than a little awkward.

“Ivy makes her own clothes, whilst Harley and Catwoman come here.” Arnie shrugged. “I assure you, Miss Brown, I’m a professional, and if there was any untoward conduct, pretty much every rogue in the city would want a piece of me.”

“If it makes you too uncomfortable, we can always go find someone else to measure you and bring those back for Arnie.” Riddler suggested, but Steph shook her head. It was kind of him to suggest it, but she didn’t want to put him through even more trouble, not when he was giving her a job and paying for all of this out of his own pocket.

“No, I’ll be fine.” She said quickly, walking over to join Arnie. “It’ll only be a sec, right?”

“Of course.” The Tailor reassured her before leading the way into the back whilst the Riddler stayed behind. The back room was filled with bolts of cloth and all sorts of other tailor’s equipment that Steph had no idea of what they were. When she’d made her own costume, it had just been whatever scraps of cloth she could scrounge up and stitch together with clumsy needlework.

“If you wouldn’t mind removing your blouse and jeans, Miss Brown, I’ll try to make this as quick as possible.” Nodding and steeling herself, Steph undid the buttons of her blouse and set it aside before doing the same with her jeans leaving her in just a bra and boxers. She felt rather awkward and vulnerable, but the Tailor said nothing, instead quickly and efficiently moving around Steph and taking her measurements before jotting them on his piece of paper.

He was finished mercifully quickly, and Steph gratefully redressed, thankful that the man had been true to his word. Once she was dressed, she was ready to return to the main part of the store, but halted at a gesture from the Tailor.

“There are a few other measurements I need, but I thought the less time you spent unclothed, the more comfortable you’d be.” Steph was rather surprised by just how considerate and courteous all these people were. Her only real experience with criminals was her father, and he was a real piece of work, a far cry from the Riddler and his associates. Hell, they were even politer than Batman was, the broody and grumpy git.

“Oh, of course. Thank you.” Arnie inclined his head before taking his tape measure and wrapping it around her head, presumably for the hat Riddler would insist upon her wearing. As he worked, he started to make light conversation about what she might like for the outfit in terms of personal touches.

“Edward is rather particular about the colours, you know what these rogues are like with their brands, but did you have any preference for the primary colours of the outfit?” He asked as he started measuring her hands.

“Um, if it’s not too much trouble, I would appreciate it if you could make the jacket and trousers in eggplant.” She suggested and the Tailor nodded, making a note of it.

“I’m sure Edward will be amenable to that. The waistcoat in purple as well?”

“Yes, please, though I’ll defer to your expertise, since I trust you know more about fashion and colour matching than I do.” She said, a little bemused by the proceedings.

“I daresay you’re most likely correct. If only the other rogues would take my advice.” Arnie sighed as he gestured for her to remove her shoes. “Some of them have reasonable enough tastes, you can’t really go wrong with a tuxedo like Oswald does, but some of them are just so outlandish. You have no idea how ridiculous a two-tone suit split down the middle looks.”

“I think I have some idea.” Steph had seen Two-Face on the news and had in the past wondered who made his odd suits.

“Yes, well, Edward isn’t much better, but at least he’s amenable to suggestions, and there are worse colour palettes than green and purple.” The Tailor continued as he finished up measuring Steph’s feet. “Oh, I assume you’re fine with green as the accent colour?”

“I doubt Mr Nygma would accept anything else.” Steph grinned wryly as the Tailor stifled a snort.

“I doubt he would.” He agreed standing up. “I believe that’s everything I need from you, Miss Brown.”

“Great, thanks.” Steph followed Arnie back to the front of the shop, where the Riddler was waiting for them, fiddling with his phone.

“All measured?” He asked when he noticed they’d returned.

“Yes, I just need to run the numbers and get you a price.” The Tailor told him, continuing to scribble out notes on his piece of paper.

“Excellent. Once we’ve sorted that out, we need to get you a cane as well.” The Riddler told Steph as she rejoined him on the other side of the counter.

“Really?” Steph raised an eyebrow. “I’m not an old lady or an English gentleman.”

“Obviously, but I think you’ll make better use of it than I will, given your…” He gestured towards Steph’s arms. “Greater propensity for physical altercations. Just think of it as a short staff, or a long club.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Steph admitted, it would be nice to have a weapon she could carry around instead of having to make do with whatever bricks and things she could find. “So what, do we need to visit a cane shop or something?”

“Of course not. I make them myself, meaning I can hide all sorts of fun tricks inside.” The Riddler scoffed as Arnie finished with his scribblings and handed over a piece of paper to the rogue.

“Here, that’s the cost for the materials and the labour. Payment in the usual way.” Glancing over the paper, the Riddler nodded and tucked it into an inside pocket of his jacket before Steph could read it.

“Hey, how much was that?” She asked, ready to start pawing at the man’s jacket, but he shook his head.

“Let me worry about the cost, Miss Brown, and if you think it’s too much, consider it my investment in you as my apprentice.” He told her, wagging his finger before looking back to the Tailor. “Could I get them done as a rush job, Arnie?”

“Let me check if I’ve got the time, I’m expecting Black Mask and some of his lieutenants this evening.” He grabbed a battered day planner and flipped it open, scanning through. “Yep, he’s coming in later on, but I can get it done in time for the day after tomorrow.”

“That’ll be fine. The usual rush job rate?” The Tailor nodded. “Excellent. Thank you for your assistance, Arnie, I’ll send either Dierdre or Nina round to pick it up when it’s done.” With a respectful nod, the Riddler turned on his heel and left the building, Steph hot on his heels after she waved goodbye to the Tailor.

“Excellent, onto our next destination.” The Riddler declared leading the way back towards the metro station. “The armoury. Well, not the armoury, one of several.” He clarified as they descended the steps. “We’ll get you some gear, and then all you’ll need is a bit of brain training and you’ll be all set to head out on jobs.”

“Wonderful.” Steph snarked as she scanned through the barriers. “What are you going to make me do? Read a bunch of textbooks?”

“It would be a start.” The Riddler didn’t really seem to be paying attention to Steph as he led the way to the line that would take them towards the docks. Sighing, Steph followed after him, wondering exactly what he had in store for her at this armoury.

“Okay, now this is the sort of thing I was expecting.” Steph said after several long minutes of walking through the warehouses along the dockside before they finally reached a rather battered and derelict looking one. “This is the sort of place I expected rogues to make their base.”

“It is supposed to be a workshop as well as a storage facility. It doesn’t need to look nice.” The Riddler sniffed as he approached the door and unlocked it. They didn’t have to walk too far inside before Steph found that it was a lot more than met the eye from the outside. They’d entered a small room with a much larger and far more secure looking door, complete with several electronic locks.

“Just give me a few seconds.” Riddler told her as he started to open the various locks and safeguards.

“I hope your henchwomen don’t have to learn how to open these things, it must be a nightmare to remember all those codes.” Steph quipped as the Riddler went about entering various codes and inserting keys.

“Only I have access to my workshops. If I need them to help me carry something out, I unlock it for them. Security is very important. If one of them could get this door open, practically anyone could.” The Riddler answered, not bothering to look back to see Steph roll her eyes. He really was very arrogant about his own intellect. It actually made Steph want to try and break into this place later just to show him how smart she was and that she didn’t need any of his ‘brain training’.

“And here we go.” He announced as he finished unlocking the door and pushed it open, leading the way inside. Still rather irked by the man’s high opinion of himself, Steph trotted in after and found herself actually rather impressed by the room she found herself in.

All sorts of power tools lined the walls, from lathes to what looked like a 3-D printer next to a large computer setup. A large desk sat in the middle of the room and was covered with what looked like blueprints and schematics for all sorts of devices.

And lined up against the far wall was a veritable arsenal of weapons, from a wide variety of guns to more esoteric items, including several of the Riddler’s trademark question mark-topped canes. In fact, after what the Riddler had told her about the various legal loopholes and how the villains kept their money looking clean, it wouldn’t surprise Steph at all if he had trademarked the cane.

“What are all the guns for?” She asked as the Riddler marched over to the array of weapons. “I thought you weren’t that sort of rogue.”

“I’m not, they’re mostly for Nina and Dierdre, and only a fool wouldn’t resort to such methods.” The Riddler paused in his walk and looked back at Steph. “I don’t like killing, I find it rather distasteful. But when it comes down to it, I’d much rather be a living coward with a gun than a dead fool without one.”

Steph wasn’t quite sure she agreed with the Riddler’s philosophy on the usage of guns, but she didn’t question it as he ran his hands over the canes hanging on the wall, humming to himself.

“Hmmm, this one, I think.” He said after a while, selecting one and turning to Steph to toss it to her. “I think it will suit your more… hands on approach.”

Steph caught the cane from the air and was surprised by the weight of it. She gave it a few spins, remembering Robin’s lessons on how to use a bo staff, only to find it wasn’t exactly balanced. Most of the weight was in the question mark top.

“Rather heavy, isn’t it?” She asked as she gave it a few practice swings.

“I’d expect it would be given it’s got a metal core, solid aluminium. The wood on the outside is just for looks and grip.” The Riddler told her, already moving off to start looking through more of his arsenal. Stephanie continued to play with the cane for a little while. Surprisingly, it was already starting to feel comfortable in her hands.

Chapter Text

“I hate you and I regret taking your offer.” Steph grumbled for the third time as she flipped through the book she was supposed to be memorising.

“Come, now, it’s not that hard.” The Riddler chided, not looking up from his computer. They’d returned to the office where they’d originally met earlier that morning, after the Riddler had found out a few more weapons to arm Steph with in addition to her cane, as well as picking up a late lunch on the way back. “And this is important information for people in our profession.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how memorising a book on lockpicking is supposed to help me learn to actually pick locks.” Steph huffed in frustration. “Besides, why pick the lock if you could just, I don’t know, kick the door down? A security system is only as strong as its weakest point”

“If ever I had doubts you were Cluemaster’s daughter, you just eliminated any lingering ones.” The Riddler sighed, finally looking away from whatever it was he was doing to look at Steph. “This isn’t about using brute force, we are a different calibre of criminal. We certainly could prove our superiority by just kicking in the door and proving the weakness in the security there, but that has no challenge and no finesse, not to mention I’m trying to teach you non-destructive methods of entry with this.”

“... Fine.” Steph sighed, returning her attention to her book. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t compare me to my father, though.”

“Duly noted, but if you insist on continuing to act like a boorish brute, I may have to continue.” Steph gritted her teeth at his smug tone. The man might have done a lot for her over the last few hours, but he was still insufferably full of himself.

“I thought that was what you wanted me to be.” She muttered, glowering down at the chapter she’d been stuck on for the last half an hour. “Wasn’t that why you gave me that cane in particular?”

“Whilst I may have placed more emphasis on your physicality compared to my own, that does not mean I want you to act as though you were a mindless goon. I could hire plenty of henchmen for that.” The Riddler rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I never said that this would be easy, but I have put a lot of faith and money in you, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t squander it or your potential.”

“Fine, whatever.” Steph groaned, returning to the book as she silently reminded herself to just think of the money and how much it would help her mom. Not for the first time, a small dark thought wormed its way into her head. Maybe she really was just like her father. She wasn’t doing herself any favours by now resorting to crime and strengthening the comparison.

Now her mind was completely focused upon her asshole of a father and how disturbingly similar to him she could be. None of the words on the page were actually sinking in and Steph was starting to get even more frustrated.

She’d often had this problem in school. No matter how bright the teachers said she was or how many tests she could ace, her brain always failed her when it came to reading books and learning their contents.

Groaning silently to herself, Steph forced herself to focus on the words on the pages, but they just slid right through her mind leaving next to no impact. She hated learning like this. She much preferred being able to get out and actually put her things into practice, learn by experience, that kind of thing.

After several minutes of just staring at a page, with only a few vagaries about wafer attacks making it into her head, Steph finally decided that learning from a book was a lost cause. Closing the book with a heavy thump, Steph let out a loud sigh which caught the Riddler’s attention.

“Yes?” He asked, actually bothering to look at her.

“I think I should call it a day. My mom’s probably going to get worried about me. I was only supposed to be signing contracts today or something, and there’s probably some child labour laws that say I’m not allowed to work for too long.” Steph explained, not wanting to say she wanted to stop because she was bored and reading the book was of no help to her whatsoever.

“I highly doubt that we will be beholden to New Jersey’s child labour laws, especially given that what we do isn’t exactly a job to begin with.” The Riddler pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “But I suppose, if your mother is the sort to pay attention to things such as the forty hour week work limit, I can let you go early today.”

“Thanks, Mr Nygma.” Steph made to get up, but was stopped by a raised hand from the Riddler.

“I wasn’t finished yet.” He said sternly. “I want you to take the book with you and keep reading it tonight. I will quiz you on its contents tomorrow.”

“Really?” Steph looked at the villain incredulously. “You’re giving me homework?”

“Of course, I want you up to speed as quickly as possible.” Riddler shrugged dispassionately. “The sooner you have the basics down, the sooner I can take you out for some practical experience.” Steph did like the sound of practical experience, even though she knew it would be experience in committing crimes. It would be a lot more interesting than just reading books about it.

“Okay, fine.” Steph sighed, picking up the book from where she’d dropped it on the Riddler’s desk. “Hopefully mom won’t catch me reading this.”

“Indeed. I expect to see you here bright and early at eight A.M. sharp tomorrow, Miss Brown.” Nodding and groaning quietly to herself, Steph left the office, closing the door behind her.

“Boss got you down?” Diedre was still seated at the desk, apparently as part of their cover as a legitimate business they needed someone to play secretary.

“He wants me to read all of this in time for tomorrow.” Steph heft the thick book and the henchwoman winced in sympathy.

“Ouch, the boss does love his books.” Dierdre shook her head. “Well, good luck with that. I’m not in tomorrow, so Nina will be on fake secretary duty. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to meet you properly.”

“Oh?” Steph raised an eyebrow. “She’s that unfriendly?”

“Quite the opposite, actually. I wasn’t being sarcastic, she is weirdly chipper and friendly for someone in this line of work.” Steph was rather surprised by that. She was under the impression that Harley Quinn was the only truly perky villain in Gotham, the rest were all rather serious about it, even the Joker, ironically.

“Well, I guess I’ll see for myself tomorrow.” Steph was about to leave when a thought occurred to her and she paused before leaving. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any lockpicks, would you?”

“I might do, why?”

“I’ll be honest, I’m not great at learning stuff by reading, I’m more of an action kind of gal, so…” Steph trailed off and let Dierdre fill in the rest.

“Okay, I get it.” Diedre nodded and reached into one of her boots that was propped up on the desk, withdrawing a small pouch. “Here ya go, knock yourself out. Do try not to get caught though. The boss wouldn’t be too happy about dropping all that cash on you if you get arrested on your first day.”

“Believe me, getting arrested is the last thing I want.” Steph shuddered at the thought and what it would do to her mom if things did go wrong and she ended up in super-juvie or wherever they sent teenage supervillains. Waving goodbye to Dierdre, Steph stuffed the gifted set of picks in her pocket and left the office to head back home.

Steph had been staring at her bed and the eggplant-coloured costume that was laid out on it for what felt like hours. Her mom was once again out on the night shift, though she hadn’t left before showering Steph with kisses and congratulations on getting the ‘internship’ that Steph couldn’t help but feel guilty about.

She hadn’t really thought about what would happen to Spoiler now that she was working for the Riddler. She imagined he probably wouldn’t be best pleased with her playing both sides of the fence and the way he’d phrased his offer had made it sound like an either/or kind of deal.

She supposed she could just quit now, stuff the costume at the back of her wardrobe and forget about it. But that wasn’t the smart thing to do. Batman may not care about her and just thought of her as a nuisance, but Robin would at least notice.

Steph’s heart sank at the thought of the boy wonder, her boyfriend . She had barely thought about him at all in this. Obviously, she wasn’t going to tell him she was quitting vigilantism to become the Riddler’s apprentice, but she couldn’t really be his girlfriend if they were on opposite sides. She liked him well enough, but not enough to do the whole Catwoman thing with him. Therefore, there was only one logical solution.

Oddly, she didn’t feel as cut up about it as she thought she might be. Maybe it was because they’d been more than a little on-off in the past, no thanks to tall, dark and brooding. Well, if she was going to break up with the boy, that meant it was time for one last outing as Spoiler.

Donning the costume and affixing her hood and cloak, Steph took one last look at herself in the mirror before climbing out of the window and up the fire escape. Perching on the rooftop of her building, Steph surveyed the dark Gotham skyline, lit from below by the streetlights and open windows.

Shaking her head, Steph turned and ran for the edge of the building leaping over the gap without breaking her stride. She’d gotten a lot better at the roof running since when she began, helped by the small bits of training Robin had given her. That would probably be another thing she’d be losing out on by taking up the Riddler’s offer, no more combat training.

Given the Riddler’s criminal tendencies, it was unlikely she’d need it that much, but she did not like the idea of going up against any of Gotham’s vigilantes with only her basic knowledge. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about fighting any of her former allies at all, come to think of it.

Shaking her head, Steph pushed the thought aside and focused instead on her breathing and making the jumps across the rooftops. This she would definitely miss. The freedom of running across the skyline on the hunt for crimes to stop.

She really needed to stop thinking about the negatives of her decision and start thinking about what she had to gain. Most importantly, the money she needed to help support her mom. That was by far the most important reason, and definitely not anything else the Riddler had suggested, like feeling unappreciated by the bats.

Steph came to a skidding halt, panting heavily to catch her breath as she looked around. She’d run across several blocks. Her neighbourhood was particularly known for having all its buildings crushed far closer together than was advisable.

Standing up, she looked across the next obstacle, the wide road that separated the East End from Burnley. Crime Alley wasn’t too far from here, but that wasn’t where Steph was headed. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure where she was headed. Robin had changed his patrol route about a month or so ago and he hadn’t bothered telling her his new one. Unless, of course, it was under Batbrain’s instruction not to tell her.

She figured if she headed along the edge of Burnley and towards Old Gotham she might find either Robin or someone who could point her in the right direction. Failing that, she could always stake out the GCPD building in case the bat signal got turned on or something.

Plans solidified in her mind, Steph pulled out the grappling gun Robin had given her rather grudgingly after her first few nights on the job and fired it across the street. Steeling her nerves like she did every time she had to do this, Steph took a deep breath and plunged off the roof.

It took a fair amount of composure not to screech in fear and joy as she fell, weightless for a few seconds before her line snapped taut and she swung across the gap to land rather clumsily on the roof on the other side. She had no idea how some of the bats were able to do that with such confidence. Hell, she was sure half the time they jumped off the buildings before they fired their lines.

All in all, the roof running and parkour may have been fun, but she definitely would not be missing the building swinging.

Shaking herself off and steadying her nerves. Steph retracted the grapple line and set off across the rooftops once more.

Every so often she would stop to check her phone to see if there had been any sightings of Robin. There were normally one or two sightings each night of the boy wonder. He actually had some of the fewest out of all the vigilantes in Gotham, and even out of the Robins. If Steph had the inclination, she probably could have set up a few programs to scrape the big social media sites for mentions of the heroes and pictures of them and use it to work out things like their patrol routes.

It would certainly work well for Nightwing. He couldn’t seem to resist having his picture taken with the various people he saved, no doubt earning Batface’s ire in the process. There was probably some kind of social science paper on the presence of heroes in social media. Steph could remember a time when Batman was nothing more than an urban legend and a few grainy photos on conspiracy sites.

Now, though, even the big bad bat had a twitter account, blue checkmark and all, though Steph suspected that it was run by some PR person working for the Justice League. She’d met the man in person and there was no way he could be that funny in 140 characters, or at all.

Of course, Robin wasn’t the only one she was trying to track on social media. Steph just so happened to be a member of pretty much every online alert group in Gotham. Whenever there was some kind of super crime going on, it was bound to have been picked up and posted on one of the subreddits warning people to stay away from the area. Steph actually found it was more useful than the police scanner she’d tried to use before.

People didn’t call the cops in Gotham, not when their response time was so patchy for the poorer parts, so instead they’d look out for each other and try to make sure people were well informed of what was going on and where.

As it turned out, it seemed Steph had picked a quiet night for her last outing. With the breakout from Blackgate last night, the police were actually bothering to do their jobs and were on the hunt for the few escapees who had yet to be recaptured. With that police presence on the street, you’d have to be as mad as the Joker to try anything.

Pausing on the edge of a roof, Steph scrolled through the news sites looking to see if any of the big names who had escaped were still loose. If they had any sense, they’d be laying low and waiting for the heat to die down, but maybe one of them might not be so smart.

As she read down the official list, Steph’s eyes lit up as they alighted on a familiar name. Lester Buchinsky, A.K.A. The Eletrocutioner, an incredibly dumb name for a villain if Steph had ever heard one.

Now, Steph wouldn’t ever classify someone like the Electroutioner as a ‘big name’. In fact, she would consider him even lower than her father, since he’d actually hired the Electrocutioner previously for some robberies that Steph had spoiled. But it was this connection to her father that Steph needed and planned to exploit, because it just so happened that Lester had been on one of the lists of her father’s contacts.

She hadn’t made it that far down the lists when she’d been looking for her deadbeat dad last night, but now she could perhaps find this guy and essentially use him as bait to lure out Robin or another of the bats.

Scrolling through the list of addresses Steph had saved on her phone, she eventually found the few that were connected to the Electrocutioner, and fortunately, they weren’t that far away. Stowing her phone, Steph headed off in the direction of the closest one. Now all she needed to do was work out how to use the guy to lure out Robin.

This had been a terrible idea. Correction, it had been a brilliant idea in concept, but its execution left much to be desired. Steph was currently fleeing for her life down an alleyway as the Electrocutioner pursued her, spitting out threats about what he was going to do to her when he caught up. Evidently he remembered her and how she’d kicked him in the face, which was quite surprising to Steph since it had been over a year ago when it had happened.

Steph had fully intended upon knocking the goon out and hauling him to the GCPD in the hopes of attracting a bat’s attention, but that hadn’t worked out so well, and now she was hoping that her backup plan of running like mad until a bat noticed her would pan out.

“Get back here, you little bitch!” The Electrocutioner hollered as Steph vaulted over a bin, knocking it down as she went in the hopes that it would trip him up. She was beginning to get tired. All that running around over the rooftops earlier had already started to wear her out.

“Shit, shit, shit.” She hissed to herself as she burst out from the alleyway and onto another deserted street. Where was a vigilante when you needed one? Gotham seemed to be crawling with them these days.

If it were just an unarmed guy, Steph would have felt reasonably confident in taking him on, but he wasn’t just an ordinary guy. He was a guy who seemed to have thought it was a good idea to strap defibrillator pads to his fists or something. One wrong move and Steph could end up zapped, something she really did not want to experience.

Just as Steph was wondering if she should head for a more populated area to try to attract more attention, there was a loud thud and a strangled yelp of pain from behind her. Skidding to a halt, Steph spun around to see the Electrocutioner flat on his back, out cold and standing over him was the dark shadow of Batgirl.

“Oh, um, hi!” Steph silently cursed herself for the lacklustre greeting. Who the hell said ‘hi’ to Batgirl?

“... Hi.” Batgirl was doing that head tilt thing that made Steph feel uncomfortably like she was being x-rayed.

“Thanks for the assist.” Steph gestured to the unconscious Electrocutioner. “How did you know I was being chased?”

“Saw you on the roofs. Followed you here.” Batgirl shrugged, and Steph nodded. It didn’t really surprise her in the least that had happened and it meant that her plan had worked.

“Right, well, I actually kind of have a favour to ask.” Batgirl didn’t answer so Steph ploughed on. “I need to speak to Robin about something, but I don’t actually have a way of getting in contact with him, so I was thinking maybe you could call him up for me or something?”

More silence from Batgirl, and Steph wondered if she was this silent out of her costume as well. Finally, Batgirl nodded and raised a hand to her ear. “Robin, Spoiler wants to talk.” She fell silent before nodding again and dropping her hand. “He’s coming.”

Completely ignoring Steph, Batgirl wandered over to the downed Electroutioner and cuffed his hands behind his back. What followed were several of the most awkward minutes of Steph’s life as she stood on the pavement, shuffling her feet as she and Batgirl waited in silence for Robin to arrive. A few times she opened her mouth, but then closed it again. She had no idea how to make conversation with a silent ninja.

Thankfully, Steph was saved from asking about the weather by the low thrum of an engine as Robin rode up on a motorbike, because of course he had a batbike, or whatever he called it.

“Hey, Steph, you wanted to talk to me?” He asked, dismounting and walking over. Steph felt herself bristle just a little at his casual use of her real name. It had never sat right with her that he knew exactly who she was, but she had no idea who he was beneath the mask.

“I did. Thanks, Batgirl…” Steph turned to ask Batgirl to give them some privacy, but she was already gone. “Wow, she’s sneaky.”

“Yeah, she does that.” Robin scratched the back of his head. He sounded tired, but then again he always did, he should probably get some help with that. “So, what is it?”

Steph took a deep breath, readying herself for the bombshell she was about to drop. “I’m quitting being Spoiler.”

“... What?” Robin looked and sounded stunned, which pleased Steph a lot more than it really should.

“It’s just gotten to be too much, the running around, the nearly dying, and it certainly doesn’t help that tall dark and brooding hates my guts. I’m tired of risking my life and not even getting so much as a thanks from him.”

“Batman doesn’t hate your guts.” Robin tried to say, but Steph shook her head.

“He hates my guts and he’ll be glad to see the back of me.” Steph hated to say it, but as far as she knew, it was true.

“Why are you telling me, though?” Robin still looked shocked by the whole thing, and Steph breathed hard as she prepared to make this as clean a break as she could.

“Because I’m also breaking up with you.” She told him, meeting his eyes as evenly as she could. “I can’t date you if I’m not Spoiler. Hell, I don’t even know who you are, or anything about you other than your propensity for bright colours.”

“You’re seriously just breaking up with me like that?”

“Pretty much. You can go tell Batman he won’t have to worry about me risking my neck fighting crime anymore.” Steph pulled out her grappling gun and fired it at a nearby roof. “And Robin, I am sorry it had to end like this.” With a flick of the switch, the line went taut and pulled her up into the darkness, leaving Robin alone on the street with the unconscious Electrocutioner.

Chapter Text

Steph grumbled in annoyance as she failed to properly tie her tie for the sixth time. She’d spent the last couple of days mastering lockpicking, mostly through practice and not the Riddler’s many books on the subject, however, not that he was aware that his techniques of rote learning just weren’t working for her.

Still, she’d made enough progress to satisfy the man, and thus she found herself wearing possibly the most expensive clothes she’d ever worn in her life. It felt supremely awkward to be wearing something that could probably pay for the rent on her and her mom’s apartment for a full month.

“I still think you would look better in green.” Riddler mused, examining her from all angles whilst Steph rolled her eyes.

“Green’s not really my colour. Besides, I would’ve thought you’d appreciate the mirroring palettes.” She snarked, folding her arms and abandoning her attempts at tying her tie.

“I do suppose you have a point about that.” Riddler conceded, stroking his chin in thought before looking to the ends of her tie that hung loose around her neck. “Do you really not know how to do your own tie?”

“Never had a need to. Suits aren’t really a thing in thrift stores.” Steph pointed out, reaching up and trying again, only to get her fingers caught up in the fabric. “And why are you wearing a proper tie, anyway? Surely a clip on would be safer in case someone grabs you by it.”

“It’s about the image, Miss Brown. What sort of impression would it give to the world if the second most snappily dressed villain in Gotham wore a clip on?” Steph raised an eyebrow at his self-description.

“Second best? I am very surprised you would allow yourself to be second best at anything.” She said, the corner of her mouth quirking up as her boss frowned.

“It’s hardly something that really matters. Besides, it’s Ozzy who was voted best dressed. There’s no way I’m competing with that.” Steph had to stifle a snort of laughter at that. It was pretty obvious why Riddler didn’t mind being second best now. It seemed to be pretty much an open secret amongst the Riddler’s minions that he had something of a thing for the Penguin, though he’d never admit to it.

“Well, at least you beat out the Joker. I’m surprised anyone would dare rank him lower than first, the narcissistic douche he is.”

“He wasn’t thrilled. I think he actually gassed the author of that list.” The Riddler shrugged dispassionately, not paying attention to the look of horror on Steph’s face. She’d been joking about the Joker. She really should have known better. “Anyway, I’m bored of watching you struggle. Allow me.” The Riddler reached out, and with a few quick motions, had Steph’s tie knotted neatly.

“Thanks.” Steph huffed. She would have gotten it eventually. Smoothing out her collar, Steph walked over to the full length mirror that had been set up in the corner of the room to examine herself. She’d been a little worried that the purple of her suit would draw comparisons to the Joker, but she was pleased to see that it didn’t. It probably helped that she looked like a normal person and not a bleached weirdo.

The purple of her tie was a nice splash of colour against the starched white of her shirt and contrasted nicely against the green of her waistcoat. Really, all that was missing from the outfit was a few of the final accessories.

Turning back to the desk where her outfit had been laid out, Steph picked up and put together the last few pieces. Question mark tie pin, domino mask, hat and gloves, and she was fully outfitted.

“Not bad at all, Miss Brown. Maybe you should consider dressing like this more often. Formalwear suits you.” The Riddler said with a self-satisfied smirk as Steph stepped back over to the mirror to look at the full ensemble.

“I do look pretty good. I definitely need to pass on my thanks to the Tailor.” She said, mostly to herself as she turned this way and that to look at herself from all angles.

“Yes, there’s just one thing missing.” Steph frowned and looked back at the Riddler.

“What?”

“This.” He reached into one of the bags on his desk and pulled out a spraycan and something that looked like a small poncho. “It would probably be a bit too much to hope that someone as paranoid as Batman wouldn’t know your real identity, and right now, you’re just a little too identifiable with your hair.”

“Okay, what’s the can for, then?” Steph asked, eyebrow raised.

“Sprayable washout hair dye. A wig would almost certainly get pulled off at some point, and dyeing your hair permanently would defeat the purpose. Now take the hat off and stand still.” Steph frowned a little, but did as she was told, closing her eyes as the Riddler approached, wrapping the poncho thing around her neck. There was about a minute during which Steph heard the Riddler moving around her and spraying her hair.

“That should be fine, just let it dry for a little while.” He announced, and Steph turned to look back at the mirror to be greeted by someone who looked very different. It was surprising how much of a change dyeing her voluminous blonde locks black made. She’d be inclined to put it in a different hairstyle too, perhaps a braid to help further distance herself from Stephanie Brown.

“I think you’re ready for your debut now.” The Riddler announced, setting the can of hairspray aside, not paying attention to how Steph whirled around in shock.

“What?!” She yelped, eyes widening in horror. “Already? But it’s been less than a week!”

“I know, but I have a high profile heist planned for tonight, and what better way to introduce my new apprentice to the world than that?” Riddler asked, a smirk playing across his face. “Besides that, it’s not a particularly difficult job, and one you should be more than capable of handling.”

“I’m still not sure…” Steph mumbled nervously, her fingers knotting together. It was one thing to do some work for the Riddler, but actually committing crimes, that was hitting her quite hard. It hadn’t quite registered in her head the reality of her new job.

“Query, Echo and I will be doing all the heavy lifting, you just need to stand at the back and look clever. Oh, and try to learn something whilst we’re pulling off the job. I’m told practical experience is useful.” Riddler told her, his tone dismissive as he started grabbing the bits of his own costume, rapidly changing from harried office worker into one of Gotham’s most notorious supercriminals.

“Okay, I can do this.” Steph said, mostly to herself in an effort to psych herself up. The Riddler wouldn’t put her in a very dangerous situation. At least she was fairly certain he wouldn’t. It had occurred to her a couple of times that he might just be leading her on and this was where he would cut her loose and just use her as a decoy or distraction.

“Query and Echo are down in the garage, we’ll meet them down there. Don’t forget your cane.” The Riddler said, picking up his own and tossing Steph’s to her. The weight of the blunt instrument was something of a comfort to Steph’s still slightly uneasy mind, and she rolled it idly over her hand as she followed the Riddler out of the office and into the old lift on the landing.

“So, what exactly are we doing?” Steph asked as Riddler turned the control lever and sent the lift rattling down. “You said something about a heist?”

“Heist is a generous term, I’ll admit.” Riddler shrugged, leaning on his cane. “There is a gala being held tonight, ostensibly for charity, but we all know it’s just for the rich to have a party and avoid taxes by writing these off as charitable donations.” 

“I do wonder why these rich people have so many galas. Don’t they know that they’re a magnet for criminals like you?” Steph mused to herself, tapping her cane against the lift floor.

“It does baffle the mind, doesn’t it? Anyway, part of the gala is an auction, and they just so happen to be auctioning off a rather fine one-of-a-kind puzzle box.” The Riddler’s smirk grew wide. “Now, I’m sure you’d understand that I can’t allow something that precious to just languish in the collection of someone who wouldn’t truly appreciate it.”

“Do you not get tired of playing into the gimmick?” Steph sighed, shaking her head. “Besides, wouldn’t it be incredibly obvious that you’re planning on stealing this thing, given that’s what you normally do?”

“They might, if they weren’t busy dealing with a little fear gas problem downtown.” Riddler grinned.

“You seriously paid off Scarecrow to cause a distraction whilst you rob a gala?”

“I didn’t pay him, I merely suggested that it would be a wonderful opportunity for him to test his newest formula.” Riddler shrugged unapologetically, his smile not shifting. “So whilst Batman and his posse are busy with that, we will be on the other side of the city.”

“Right…” Steph cocked her hip and leaned on her cane, looking up at Riddler suspiciously. “So I’m to assume that because you’ve gotten Scarecrow to act as a distraction, you haven’t left a riddle about this heist?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that...” Riddler looked a little embarrassed. “It is my M.O., after all, so I had to.”

“Of course you did.” Steph sighed loudly. It was entirely possible, probable, even, that Riddler really did need help. She’d read the internet think pieces by all the armchair psychologists diagnosing the various supervillains incarcerated in Arkham, and quite a few suggested that the Riddler actually had a compulsion to leave the riddles to his crimes. Naturally, Steph took these with several grains of salt, given that half these people were likely college students who’d just finished psych 101 and fancied themselves an expert on the criminal mind, but it was a compelling theory.

“So what was the riddle you left?” Steph asked, dreading the answer.

“Well, I was toying with ‘An apple a day doesn’t keep the Riddler away’ but I determined that to be too… pithy.”

“That and it’s pretty crap.” Steph snorted. “Was that seriously the best you could come up with?”

“Look, I’ve been doing this for several years now, there’s only so many riddles you can come up with where the answer is ‘Gala’ before you start repeating yourself.” The Riddler glowered at Steph, who met his gaze coolly.

“So what did you use in the end?”

“Mixed root of water plants.” He announced proudly, earning a flat look from Steph once she’d worked it out.

“Really? Instead of rhyming we’re going for cryptic crossword clues now?” She asked, crossing her arms, unimpressed with the Riddler’s offering.

“Like I said, only so much word play can be done with an answer of gala. I’d like to see you come up with something better.” The Riddler grumbled, folding his arms as well as the lift came to a grinding halt in the basement carpark.

“It’s not my job, though. You’re supposed to be the Riddler.” Steph pointed out as they stepped out of the lift and towards the van parked several feet away, with Query and Echo leaned up against it, talking to one another. They straightened up once they saw Steph and the Riddler approaching, Query snapping off a sarcastic salute.

“We ready to go, Eddie?” She asked, opening the driver’s side door, ready to get in.

“I believe we are.” He turned to look at Steph. “Well, Miss Brown, are you ready to take your first step into the world of supercrime?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She sighed. She’d come too far to back out now, and she probably couldn’t, anyway. She’d given up her vigilante career for this, just to get enough money to help support her mom. She just had to keep that in mind, it was all for her mom.

“Let’s go rob some rich assholes, then!” Echo cheered, throwing the side door to the van open and letting both Steph and the Riddler climb in. The door slid shut, as Steph found herself a seat on a bench set against the side of the van whilst the Riddler sat opposite her. Echo climbed into the passenger side as Query started up the van and they pulled away.

They remained sitting and waiting in the van for what felt like hours as the Riddler counted down until the auction would hit the point where the puzzle box would be up for sale. Query and Echo were occupying themselves with a couple of books they’d brought with them whilst the Riddler was busy listening to something on his headphones. From the way he was mouthing along with it, she suspected he was probably learning yet another language. Of course, this left Steph with nothing to do. She’d left her phone behind at the office, just in case it could be tracked, and had nothing else on her to keep her mind entertained.

She’d already experimented with various hairstyles before settling on a tight braid, which she’d tucked uncomfortably down the back of her jacket so it wouldn’t get grabbed. She’d already worked out how to make a set of hairpins based upon the razors in her jacket’s lapels that would make sure that if anyone did try to grab her by the hair, they’d regret it.

Steph drummed her fingers restlessly on the bench, casting around for something to keep herself occupied. Her face itched beneath her mask and she longed to scratch at it, but didn’t for fear of dislodging the flimsy thing that was keeping her identity a secret. She got that the Riddler loved his aesthetic, but his identity was already well-known. Steph would like to keep hers a mystery, preferably forever.

Boring of tapping out the Moonlight Sonata on the bench, Steph proceeded to fiddle aimlessly with her cane. She would have liked something a bit more refined than just a blunt instrument to clobber people with. She’d seen some of the Riddler’s other canes, ones with tasers built in and other tricks. Even one that had a sword would be more interesting than this one.

Steph let her head fall back against the metal wall of the van as she sighed deeply. She hated being bored, something that she frequently suffered at places like school. She didn’t know why it was that she got bored so very easily, just that it had started happening with increasing frequency since she’d started at highschool.

Just as she was considering getting up and doing some kind of exercise to take her mind off of how incredibly bored she was, Riddler took his earbuds out, cracking his neck. “It’s time.” He announced to the van, and Query and Echo immediately put their books down.

Thankful that something was finally happening, Steph got up and followed the Riddler out of the van, where Query and Echo were busy checking their guns. Steph couldn’t help but feel more than a little uneasy at the firearms. Sure, she’d gone up against people pointing the guns at her, but this somehow felt more uncomfortable.

It wasn’t particularly helped by the Riddler accepting a gun of his own and tucking it into the holster beneath his jacket before holding one out to Steph.

“I don’t use guns.” She said, holding out a hand in refusal, but Riddler didn’t back down.

“I’d feel a lot more comfortable knowing you were armed. I do have a certain duty of care towards you. So take the gun, please.” He continued to hold it out, and Steph reluctantly took it and placed it in her own shoulder holster. The weight felt far heavier than it should have done, but she tried to ignore it as the other three villains finished getting ready.

“So, everyone is clear on the plan?” Riddler asked, straightening his tie and flicking some dust off his shoulder.

“We bust in, you make some smartass comment about bidding, we come in behind and make sure nobody tries anything whilst you go and grab the box, you make your normal speech and then we get out before the cops or one of the bats shows up.” Query rattled off in a tone that clearly indicated they’d done this sort of heist many times before.

“They are not ‘smartass comments’, they’re pithy one-liners.” The Riddler insisted with a huff before shaking his head. “We need to get going, and don’t forget, Miss Brown, do try not to get hurt.” Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the alleyway, Query and Echo following along behind with Steph having to jog a little to keep up with the taller adults.

They hadn’t parked too far away from the fancy hall the auction was being held in, so it was a fairly short walk, just across the road. They seemed to be going for a more low-key event, given the only guards present were two burly men in suits standing either side of the door. Just from a quick glance, Steph could tell they were armed, their suits not quite doing enough to hide the bulges of their concealed pistols.

Somehow, they didn’t notice the very obvious supervillain and his two henchwomen armed with semi-automatic rifles until they were almost at the door. One of the men had the presence of mind not to go for his weapon and to instead raise his hands in surrender, but the other tried and got a bullet through his foot for his troubles.

Steph winced and looked away as the man screamed in pain, dropping to the floor and clutching at his mangled foot. All the Riddler had to do was look pointedly at the other guard for him to open the door for them, looking thoroughly terrified.

“Thank you. I think your colleague may appreciate an ambulance. However, I suggest you wait until we leave before calling.” The man nodded hurriedly, leaving the four villains to enter the hall whilst he ducked down to tend to the injured guard.

The Riddler sauntered confidently into the building, whistling a jaunty tune as he walked down the hallway to the door to the auction hall. Pausing for a moment, he collected himself, took a deep breath then flung the doors open.

“So sorry I’m late, I’d like to place a bid on the item!” He declared loudly, marching into the room with Query and Echo flanking him. There were several loud gasps and even a couple of screams from the room’s occupants as the Riddler walked down the centre aisle of the hall with Steph in tow whilst Query and Echo stayed by the doors.

“I-I’m sorry, but this is a closed event.” The auctioneer protested, clearly trying to maintain some illusion of control.

“Oh, come now, I’m sure you can make an exception, especially when I’m going to make such a generous offer.” The Riddler said smarmily, skipping up onto the stage and planting his cane down firmly. “See, if you allow me to have this fine antique, I’ll let you all walk out of here uninjured and with all your money. A very generous one-time deal, if I do say so myself.”

Steph rolled her eyes at the excessive theatre the Riddler was conducting himself with. They could be in and out in no time if he didn’t insist upon this posturing. It seemed a few people had taken notice of her. There was a lot of murmuring going on, and Steph caught a glimpse of a couple of fingers pointed her way.

“I-I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.” The auctioneer tried and Steph sighed deeply. This really was not the time to be making a stand.

“I had hoped to do this the easy way, but I suppose…” The Riddler sighed and shook his head before lashing out with his cane, smacking the auctioneer in the stomach and sending him collapsing to the ground, gasping for air. “Please stay down, I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

Stepping past the man as he floundered for air, the Riddler walked over to the puzzle box and picked it up from its plinth, turning it around to admire it. “I trust nobody else here feels like stopping me from taking this?” There was no protest from the assembled socialites, so the Riddler simply whipped out a bag and carefully placed his prize into it.

“Are we done now?” Steph asked, tapping her foot. “I’d rather get out of here before one of the batfamily solves your riddle and gets here.”

“Too late!” A voice called out from above and all Steph could do was groan loudly.

“Well, shit.”

Chapter Text

All eyes moved from the supervillain and his apprentice at the front of the room to the window high above where the voice had called out from. Steph had quite an extensive list of which of Gotham’s crime-fighters she did not want to get into an actual fight with, with Batgirl topping the list above even Batman.

The vigilante who’d interrupted the robbery was not in the top five, but she was definitely above an evil clone of Spoiler, which, knowing how heroes’ lives worked, was more likely than you would think.

“Huntress? I must say, I wasn’t expecting it to be you who solved my little riddle. I was under the impression you weren’t particularly inclined towards more academic pursuits.” The Riddler sounded pleasantly surprised by this as he looked up at the heroine.

“I would’ve solved it, but I’m not really one for wasting time when I can get someone else to do it for me with a fraction of the effort.” Huntress shrugged, tapping her ear with her free hand whilst her crossbow remained firmly trained on Riddler whose expression soured immediately.

“That’s just cheating!” He exploded, glaring at Huntress. “You tell Oracle if he’s the one solving my riddles then he can be the one to face me!” Steph quirked an eyebrow at this. She’d never met or even talked to Oracle before, but it seemed she did know something about her that Riddler didn’t, namely that Oracle was a she rather than a he. Steph had heard Robin slip up and refer to her with those pronouns often enough.

“I’ll make a note of it.” Huntress said dryly. “I suppose you’re not just going to give up?”

“What do you think?” The Riddler asked and Steph had to wonder why Query and Echo hadn’t started shooting at Huntress yet. Not that she wanted the vigilante hurt or anything, but there was a lot more talking than she was really used to.

“Worth asking.” She said with an almost disappointed sigh before she took notice of Steph standing beside Riddler and her eyes widened behind the mask. “Who’s the kid?” Steph bristled a little at being called a kid, but she didn’t respond, she’d been called far worse before.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Riddler grinned widely, taking his eyes off Huntress for a moment to glance down at Steph expectantly. With a jolt, Steph realised he was waiting for her to introduce herself, but she hadn’t given any thought to her criminal alias, and now she was being put on the spot. She shook her head frantically, signalling to him that she was not about to speak, and he gave her an exasperated and withering look before returning his attention to Huntress.

“Consider my apprentice’s name a little brain teaser for you. I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise!” Steph glared at her boss, knowing full well what he’d just done with his choice of words, but he paid her no heed.

“Ugh, you and your fucking puzzles.” Huntress grumbled, her famously lacking patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough of this.” She hadn’t even finished her sentence before Steph was shoving the Riddler out of the way of the bolt she knew would be coming. The bolt thudded deeply into the wooded stage the pair were standing on and Steph immediately started revising her list of heroes she did not want to fight.

“Query, Echo!” The Riddler yelped, ducking aside as Huntress tracked him with her weapon, having quickly reloaded it. Steph stepped back a little as the two henchwomen came running into the centre of the room and aimed their rifles up at the vigilante.

The rich socialites in the room were now running and screaming in panic as Query and Echo started firing up at Huntress, who dodged their fairly sloppy shots and returned fire with a couple of her own. One bolt grazed Query’s arm, making her cry out in pain, which provided Huntress enough of an opening to drop to the floor and close the distance between herself and the henchwomen.

Steph ran up to intercept the vigilante, her cane raised and ready. Huntress far outclassed Echo and the injured Query, her blows easily knocking the two aside and disabling their weapons with ease before Steph could reach them. Her first swing was wide and wild and easily parried by Huntress who looked at her with pity.

“Do you really want to go to juvie, kid? Because that’s where you’ll be going working for a clown like the Riddler.” Huntress said, throwing a few punches that were quite a bit slower than the ones she’d used on Query and Echo. Clearly, she was underestimating Steph and probably thought she was an untrained kid, and not someone who’d had a pretty thorough grounding in martial arts from both Robin and Batgirl.

“Do I look like Joker’s Daughter? Last time I checked tall, pale and psychotic had the monopoly on clown-based villainy.” Steph fired back, pulling back and swinging her cane in a feint that Huntress fell for, allowing her to step in past her guard and land a glancing blow to the hero’s abdomen.

“So what? You’re the Riddler’s Daughter then?” Huntress asked, keeping up the banter as she grabbed hold of Steph’s cane and tugged it out of her grip and tossed it across the room, leaving her unarmed.

“Of course not!” Steph recoiled in mild disgust, it was bad enough that her father actually was a criminal and a shit one at that. Steph did not need people thinking she had a different supervillain for a father, even if it was at least a more competent one than Cluemaster.

“Then why work for a criminal?”

“I have my reasons!” Steph snapped, firing off a few punches that Huntress blocked, though she winced as she did so, clearly not expecting Steph’s gloves to be weighted. Taking advantage of this, Steph grabbed a nearby chair that had been vacated and swung it hard against Huntress, splintering it against her.

“Fuck!” Huntress gasped in pain as Steph discarded the broken chair and threw a punch at Huntress’ face, continuing to capitalise on her advantage. It did not last for long as Huntress recovered quickly from being hit with the chair and caught Steph by the arm before the hit could connect.

Steph then found herself tossed easily through the air to crash painfully into more of the chairs as Huntress demonstrated how much difference several inches of height and a lot more bulk made when she wasn’t going easy on her.

Steph managed to stagger to her feet before Huntress managed to get to her and she dodged a few attacks from the hero. Looking around, she saw Echo was helping Query to her feet and pressing a gauze pad to her wound, but Riddler was nowhere to be seen. That asshole had better not have skipped out whilst she was busy distracting Huntress, like she’d feared he would.

It was all Steph could do to avoid being hit with a blow that would take her out of the fight, if she could just keep Huntress busy, then maybe Query and Echo might be able to help.

“Just give up,kid. It’ll be a lot easier on you if you do. I’ll even put in a good word for you.” Huntress said, trying and failing to land a solid punch on Steph.

“Do you make that offer to all the criminals, or am I just special?” Steph asked, trying to keep Huntress’ attention on her. “And here I thought you preferred putting crossbow bolts through people’s throats.”

“Girls working for supervillains don’t get to question my morals.” Huntress snapped, launching a roundhouse kick that caught Steph in the side and knocked her to the floor. Coughing and wheezing in pain, Steph tried to get to her feet, but Huntress was already there and pinning her to the floor.

“Get off me!” Steph yelped, trying to think of a way out of this bind.

“You know that’s not going to happen.” Steph heard the familiar sound of a pair of zip cuffs being pulled out of a utility belt and tightened, and she knew she only had a few seconds to break free.

“Is Oracle listening? Can you tell her I say hi?” Steph blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but it did give Huntress pause, which was a good thing.

“Her?” She asked, voice filled with suspicion, but before she could question Steph further, she just about managed to wriggle free of Huntress’ grip and scramble away and to her feet. In doing so, one of her flailing legs caught Huntress in the face and knocked her back.

“Fuck!” Huntress swore loudly, clutching her face as she jumped to her feet too. She looked about ready to unleash hell upon Steph, and she was certain she would not come out on top, when there was a faint sound of gas being discharged and Huntress seized up, twitching in pain before crashing to the ground to reveal the Riddler standing behind her, holding a taser, the wires of which led to Huntress’ back.

“I wasn’t actually sure that would work. Most of Batman’s associates have electrically insulated suits.” He commented, pressing the trigger a couple more times and smirking in amusement as Huntress convulsed on the floor.

“Why couldn’t you have done that sooner?!” Steph screeched in exasperation, giving her boss a withering glare.

“I wanted to see how well you could handle yourself, and you didn’t do too badly.” The Riddler shrugged remorselessly, tossing the taser aside whilst Steph retrieved her cane. “Anyway, we should depart before we’re interrupted again. Query, how’s your arm?”

“It’ll be fine, just a flesh wound.” Query hissed through her teeth. “Let’s just get out of here before she recovers.” Holding the now blood soaked gauze tightly over her injury, Query and Echo ran for the exit, with The Riddler and Steph in hot pursuit. Just before she left the room, Steph spared a quick glance back at Huntress, who was just stirring from the floor. Satisfied that the heroine wasn’t hurt in any permanent way, Steph ran after the others, fleeing the scene of her first foray into crime. It hadn’t gone very much to plan, but Steph would have been lying if she’d said it hadn’t been at least a little thrilling.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Steph shrieked out loud as she stared at the article in front of her whilst the Riddler chuckled to himself as he read another newspaper. It was the morning after their little heist and Steph was still a little sore after taking those hits from Huntress, but she’d still hauled herself out of bed and down to the office, where Riddler had arrayed the morning papers.

Whilst Scarecrow’s rampage had made the front page, accompanied by a very well composed shot of the man getting punched in the face by Batgirl, their own exploits hadn’t gone unreported.

“Let this serve as a lesson to you about being fully prepared for things.” He smirked, not looking up from his paper. “Besides, I think they got your good side.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.” Steph fumed, glaring down at the article. She hadn’t noticed anyone taking photos during the crime, and judging by the quality of the image it had been taken on a phone by an amateur. Still, it did catch her trading blows with Huntress, and thankfully not when she’d been knocked around by the heroine.

It wasn’t the photo that was currently irking her, it was the article accompanying it, and more precisely, the name the media as a whole had decided was to be her moniker.

“Did they seriously not think through the implications of calling a sixteen-year-old girl ‘Teaser’?!” She asked, only half-rhetorically gesturing wildly at the paper. “You realise how bad that sounds, right?”

“It only sounds bad if you want it to.” Riddler said idly, completely unsympathetic to Steph’s plight. “And who’s going to think such unsavoury things given the context of being the Riddler’s apprentice?”

“You’re just enjoying my misery.” Steph accused, pointing a finger at the man. “And it’s your fault too. They only chose Teaser because you called my name ‘a little brain teaser’.”

“I can’t help what conclusions the media will jump to. You really should have been better prepared.” He said, finally looking up at Steph. “Besides, I actually think it’s rather appropriate given your previous professional name, wouldn’t you agree?”

She hated to admit it, but Riddler wasn’t exactly wrong. There was a certain elegance to how Teaser could be roughly synonymous with Spoiler whilst more obviously referring to The Riddler’s puzzle theme. If only there wasn’t that other more sexual implication to the word.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way for us to put out a press release with a different name, is there?” She asked, trying not to sound desperate.

“Miss Brown, I’m sure that you’re more than smart enough to know that once the press have decided something in these sorts of matters, there’s no stopping it.” The Riddler shook his head. “Did you even have an alternative name you would want to use?”

“Well, not exactly…” Steph admitted. “Something like Enigma perhaps?”

“Not a bad name. A little derivative, perhaps. But again, it’s too late, and you should have come up with it last night.” Riddler gave her a mildly sympathetic look. “It’s not too bad of a name. There are far worse villain names you could have chosen. Imagine being the Condiment King or Polka-Dot Man. At least you have some dignity.”

Steph sighed deeply. It was true the name could have been a lot worse, but it was not exactly reassuring to her. “Do we have any idea how they even heard what you said and converged on Teaser as a name?”

“I believe one of the party’s attendees filmed the confrontation with Huntress before the fight broke out. As for converging on that as a name, who knows? I suspect the mass of supervillain blogs had something to do with it.” Riddler shrugged, setting aside his newspaper and starting to type on his computer. “I don’t normally pay attention to social media, no journalistic integrity, but I believe I saw a few of the theorists having long discussions about what to call you and whether or not you actually are my daughter.”

Steph shook her head, mildly annoyed by people’s insistence on theorising that she was related to the Ridder and his dismissal of social media. Combined with his insistence upon book learning, Steph suspected that he was rather stuck in his ways. It did seem to work for him, though it did not inspire much confidence in his abilities as a mentor.

“Well, setting aside however they decided upon that as my name for now, what happens next now that I’ve had my first taste of the criminal lifestyle?”

“Aside from you continuing your training?” The Riddler looked up from his computer. “We won’t be committing anymore heists until the heat has died down a little and Query’s arm has healed up properly.”

Steph nodded, a little relieved that she wasn’t going to be required to commit more crimes for at least a little while and that Riddler cared enough about his henchwoman to make sure that she was in good health before taking her out on another heist.

“More lockpicking training, then?”

“Of course, and then we’ll move onto safecracking, but there is one other less related thing we need to attend to before that, or rather simply attend.” Steph raised an eyebrow at the odd phrasing. “Ozzy is hosting his monthly rogues get together in a few days, and since your debut to the public at large, I’d be remiss if I wasn’t to introduce you to the other rogues.”

“Oh…” Steph shifted awkwardly in place for a moment. She hadn’t really considered meeting any of the other rogues but given how tight knit a lot of supervillain communities were, she probably should have. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Riddler raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I did help put at least a few rogues in jail before, usually after hitting them a fair amount.” Steph pointed out, gnawing at her bottom lip anxiously. “I get the impression they’re the sort of people to hold grudges.”

“You’re not entirely wrong…” Riddler hummed thoughtfully before shrugging. “But I doubt it will be much of a problem. It’s not like I’m going to introduce you as Stephanie Brown, am I?”

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t, it seems like you’re on a first name basis with the rest of the rogues.”

“Well, yes, but I assure you if someone didn’t want their identity known, then we’d respect that. And in any case, I also suspect they’d be more than willing to let bygones be bygones. You’re one of us now, after all, or almost, at any rate. A rogue’s apprentice is almost as good as a rogue, and I’m sure they’d see the humour in one of Batman’s protegés turning against him.”

Steph’s stomach twisted a little at the thought of being considered a rogue, or even just the apprentice of one. There was a certain cachet to being a member of the Rogues Gallery that elevated you above the run of the mill criminals that Gotham was also home to. Steph was certain she did not deserve that sort of prestige, not when she’d only assisted in committing a single crime, nor was she certain that she even wanted that.

She was only in this because she wanted to help support her mom, not because she wanted to ‘break the bat’ or whatever other ridiculous motivations the other rogues had. The fanny-pack-wearing bat-obsessive annoyed her, sure, but she didn’t bear a massive grudge against him. He just happened to be an obstacle, and Steph was fairly certain one needed to have a certain animosity towards Batman to be considered a rogue.

“I suppose there’s no getting out of this, even though I am far too young to be frequenting a nightclub?” She sighed as the Riddler shook his head. “Figures.”

“Just think of it as an opportunity to network. You’ll likely have to work with some of the people you meet at the lounge during your time as my apprentice, and you’ll find that it pays to have good relationships with others in our line of work.”

Steph hated how much sense The Riddler was making with this, and she nodded reluctantly. It seemed that with every passing day she was getting sucked further into this life of crime, far more than she’d originally intended, and she was getting less sure of whether she’d be able to claw her way back out once it was all over.

“I guess I’m going to the Iceberg Lounge, then.” Steph grumbled, already certain that it was not going to go well.

Chapter Text

“Have I mentioned that I hate you today yet? Because I hate you.” Steph grumbled as she tried and failed for the third time to tie her tie correctly. “Seriously, who wears ties anymore?”

“I believe that was the twenty-third time today, actually.” The Riddler replied in a bored tone as he checked over his outfit. “You were particularly vocal about it when you were failing to open that safe earlier.”

It had been a few days since the heist, during which Steph’s training in non-destructive entry methods had continued, now moving up to the various common wall safes that could be found in Gotham. They were taking a break from the training for the evening, however, as it was the night of Penguin’s monthly Rogue get-together.

“Besides, I can’t have my apprentice looking underdressed. You reflect upon me and my reputation as a rogue.” The Riddler continued as he finished straightening his tie and ensured his cufflinks were correctly attached.

“We’re going to a club that’s filled with rogues. What does your ‘reputation’ matter there?”

“My dear Miss Brown, you’ll find that a rogue’s reputation matters the most amongst our peers. Let us take your father, for example.” Steph frowned at the mention of the man hated most in the world, but nodded for the Riddler to continue. “The man has an absolutely abysmal reputation, beaten by a new vigilante on her first nights out, and accordingly, nobody takes him seriously.”

“So you need a good reputation in order to be taken seriously by the other rogues?”

“In essence, it’s something of a currency. We’re far more likely to work with someone we respect and who has clout, and a part of that is how we present ourselves to our peers.”

“Is that why everyone ends up teaming up with The Joker?” Steph asked, finally just giving up on her tie.

“Well, he is rather fearsome, but that’s not why. As with most things, The Joker is the exception to the rule in that he is absolutely terrifying and nobody wants to find out what will happen to you if you refuse his offer. As far as I am aware, the only reason Harley’s gotten away with spurning him is because Ivy’s pretty much the only person that scares the Joker. Even he’s not crazy enough to go up against a meta with that level of power.”

Steph nodded in understanding. It was actually rather interesting to learn about the internal politics of the rogues and how they all operated together. It was probably the sort of thing you could write a paper on if you were so inclined.

Noticing how Steph had abandoned her neckwear, the Riddler let out a long-suffering sigh and reached out to tie it for her.

“Someday you’ll learn how to do this on your own.” He grumbled, pulling the knot tight against Steph’s throat and smoothing down her collar.

“But why would I when I’ve got you to do it for me?” Steph asked cheekily, enjoying how her boss’ eyes rolled behind his mask.

“Teenagers, no dress sense whatsoever.” He muttered under his breath before stepping back to give her a once over. “Anyway, now that you’re presentable, we can get underway, I’d hate for us to be anything other than fashionably late.”

“You, fashionably late?” Steph snorted and shook her head. “I thought you’d be too anal for such a thing.”

“I can be late to things if I want to!” The Riddler huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m not Temple.”

“Sure, sure.” Steph waved her hand dismissively. “How are we getting there anyway? I assume we’re not taking a cab, since we’re already dressed up.”

“Of course not, I have a car downstairs.” Shaking his head, Riddler left the office with Steph trotting after him. Query and Echo had left a while ago, the former’s arm was healing rather slowly, much to the woman’s annoyance which she would express to anyone who was listening.

They rode down in the lift to the garage beneath the building and Steph followed the Riddler over to a surprisingly non-descript, and dare she say it, affordable car.

“It draws less attention than something fancy would.” The Riddler said, answering Steph’s unasked question. “I’m hardly about to go riding around in a car emblazoned with question marks when I’m trying to be low-key, am I?” Steph could have reminded him of the Riddle Racer and that rather unfortunate phase where all the rogues of Gotham had their own themed vehicles, but she remained quiet as she climbed in the front seat and wondered idly to herself if the Riddler would teach her to drive as part of his tutelage.

They rode in silence for several minutes, slowly making their way through the early evening traffic towards the Iceberg Lounge. This was precisely why Steph preferred taking the city metro system. Even though it wasn’t the cleanest, it beat sitting in traffic like this.

“Did you give your mother an excuse for why you needed to be out so late?” The Riddler asked, breaking the silence.

“I told her there was work to do, and that it would be good for networking.” Steph shrugged, feeling more than a little uneasy about the topic of her mom being brought up. She’d had a hard time coming up with plausible lies to tell her whenever she was asked how the ‘internship’ was going. Steph really hated lying to her mom, but she just kept justifying it as a means to an end.

“I see…”

“So, what am I supposed to do exactly at this gathering?” Steph asked, trying to steer the topic of conversation to something else. She’d like it if she could keep her home life separate from her acts of villainy.

“What one normally does at an event such as this, you mingle and you talk to people and try to make a good impression for both our sakes.” The Riddler shrugged, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as they waited for the lights to change.

“Do you know who’s going to be at this thing tonight?”

“I’m not sure… Ozzy will definitely be there, being the host and all. Jonathan won’t be, since he got caught during his little rampage a few days ago. I think Joker and Clayface are both in Arkham at the moment too, or at least they were when I checked the cameras this morning.”

That was something of a weight off Steph’s mind that she wouldn’t be meeting the Joker tonight. If she could, she’d happily avoid meeting him forever. Of course, there was something else to focus on in what Riddler had just said.

“Why am I not surprised you have access to the cameras at Arkham?”

“Because you know it’s useful information to have, and their cybersecurity is rather laughable.” Riddler grinned smugly as the lights finally changed and they pulled away. “I’ve managed to hack into most major corporations in Gotham, mostly to prove that I could. The only systems that elude me are Oracle’s, and by extension, Batman’s. Oh, and Wayne Enterprises as well, they actually take security seriously there.”

Steph sat and listened to the Riddler ramble on for a while about how he’d been spending years trying to crack into Wayne Enterprises most secure servers and how the closest he’d gotten was impersonating a member of the IT support desk in order to get some middle manager to hand over control of his computer.

Thankfully, Steph didn’t have to put up with his boasting for much longer as they pulled up just outside a nondescript door in an alleyway. The only sign that it was at all important was the man who stood outside, looking just like any other person who would hang out in an alleyway, except for the fact that his shoes were far too shiny.

Both Riddler and Steph got out of the car and walked over to the man who raised an eyebrow at Steph but said nothing about her, instead addressing the Riddler. “Good evening, Mr Nygma. Shall I take your car?”

The Riddler nodded and handed the keys over to the man, who knocked on the door before walking over to the car and climbing in. A small window opened in the door and a pair of eyes looked out before vanishing. There was a short pause, during which Steph could hear a variety of locks and bolts being undone, until the door finally swung open and they were ushered into the building.

They walked down a fairly short corridor, Steph trying not to wince a little as the door closed behind them. Here she was, a former vigilante, about to walk into the lion’s den where she was expected to make nice with a bunch of supervillains. Suffice to say, she was more than a little nervous.

The door at the end of the corridor was manned by a guard wearing much nicer attire and he greeted them politely. “Welcome to the Iceberg Lounge, Mr Nygma, Miss Teaser. Mr Cobblepot is waiting for you.” Steph rolled her eyes at the reminder of her awful moniker, but acknowledged the greeting with a polite nod before following after the Riddler into the Lounge proper.

Steph hadn’t been to a club before so she hadn’t been exactly sure what to expect, but she’d seen enough TV and movies to have some idea of what it would be like. It was a lot quieter than she’d thought it would be, though she supposed, since the various rogues used the club as a place to conduct business and talk, that loud music would not be conducive to that.

Looking around the room, Steph recognised several of the villains. It seemed that most of the rogues who weren’t currently in Arkham or Blackgate were here. It wasn’t just rogues either, there were a few who looked very distinctly like they were mafia, and some others who had the air of favoured henchmen, the kind who would be considered a lieutenant in a rogue’s operation.

Steph did her best to ignore the curious looks that were thrown her way as she and the Riddler walked through the club towards the back, where Steph assumed the VIP section was. Seated there like a king upon his throne, and surrounded by beautiful women, was the Penguin himself, sipping at a cocktail and engaged in small talk with Two-Face.

“Ozzy!” The Riddler called out as he walked up to the table with a beaming smile that Steph just had to roll her eyes at. The man was so very unsubtle sometimes. “How are things?”

“Going well, thank you, Edward.” The Penguin returned Riddler’s smile with a surprising warmth, which had Steph raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your companion?”

“Of course, where are my manners? Oswald, I’d like you to meet my apprentice, Teaser. Teaser, I’m sure Ozzy needs no introduction.” The Riddler none too gently pushed Steph forwards and, she automatically stuck her hand out as she tried not to remember that one time she’d kicked Penguin in the crotch during a bust.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Teaser.” The Penguin reached out and shook Steph’s hand before returning his attention to the Riddler. “I must say, I was quite surprised when I saw the news about your apprentice. I never took you for the protegé-taking type, Edward. Trying to one up Batman again are we?”

“In a manner of speaking.” The Riddler smirked. “Let’s just say I’m investing in an asset that I’m certain will pay dividends in the near future.”

“I’m sure.” The Penguin shook his head before gesturing to a seat at his table “Join us, Edward. We were just discussing that new construction project in Crime Alley.”

“The one that Bruce Wayne has been pushing for?” The Riddler asked as he sat down in the indicated seat. “It’s a strange hill that he’s chosen.” Steph stood awkwardly beside the table for a moment before the Riddler seemed to remember that she was still there. “You should go and mingle, introduce yourself to people.” He waved her away before returning his full attention to the Penguin.

Rolling her eyes, Steph left her boss to his conversation and wandered away, wondering just who she could talk to that was relatively safe. She felt more than a little out of place, what with being only sixteen and surrounded by adults, several of whom were old enough to be her parents.

It also didn’t help that she’d participated in the arrest of several of them, and in the process had hit them quite hard, usually in the face. Without much idea of who was safe to talk to, Steph slowly meandered her way over to the bar, where the bartender raised an eyebrow at her.

“Little young to be in a place like this.” He commented, his eyes clearly taking note of the question marks that denoted her allegiance.

“Underage drinking isn’t something I intend to add to my list of crimes. Can I just grab a coke?” The man shrugged and grabbed a bottle from a fridge behind him, popping off the top and handing it over. “Thanks. You can put it on the Riddler’s tab.” Steph proceeded to cover up her massive awkwardness at the situation she’d been thrown into by taking a long drink from the bottle.

Just as she was about to make a decision on which rogue to engage in conversation, a loud and boisterous voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Hiya, Petey! Can I grab another coupla screwdrivers and a white russian for Kitty?”

“Did she really ask for a white russian?” The bartender asked in a flat tone as the newcomer giggled.

“Okay, you got me. Scotch on the rocks for Selina.” Steph did her best not to draw attention to herself as the bartender started on the drinks, but it wasn’t that easy when you were the only other person at the bar.

“Hiya! I ain’t seen you around here before, and I’d’ve noticed. Don’t get too many lady rogues around.” Steph winced a little before turning to face Harley Quinn properly.

“No, I’m new. Call me… Teaser.” Steph was reluctant but it seemed that there really wasn’t much of a choice. Riddler had already introduced her as that to Penguin so she might as well try to roll with it.

“Oooh, no first name basis, very serious.” Harley grinned as she stuck out her hand. “Anyway, you know who I am, probably, Harley Quinn, nice ta meetcha!” Steph took the proffered hand and shook it politely, before letting go rather quickly. “I’m guessin’ with all those question marks all over ya, that you’re working with Eddie.”

“More like working for. I’m his ‘apprentice’.”

“Very serious. Oh! Maybe he’s going back to his Jigsaw phase.” Harley seemed to mostly be speaking to herself and Steph had no idea what she was talking about. Had there been a time when Riddler had been fixated on jigsaws of all things. “He had apprentices too, I think. Been a while since I seen ‘em.”

By now the bartender had finished making Harley’s drinks, and Steph was hopeful that Harley would leave her alone, but it was in vain. “You should come sit with me, Red and Kitty. We’re way more fun than any of the others and us girls gotta stick together.” Realising she wasn’t going to get out of this one, Steph reluctantly followed Harley as she carried the drinks back to her table, balancing one on her head just to show off.

Steph’s stomach churned uncomfortably as they approached the table in a corner where Catwoman and Poison Ivy were seated and chatting to one another. “Hey, gals, look what I found!” Harley announced as she set the drinks down and squeezed in beside Ivy. “We got ourselves another lady rogue!”

“I think lady might be pushing it. Girl might be more appropriate.” Ivy drawled, looking Steph over. “How old even are you? Fifteen?”

“Sixteen!” Steph huffed, now acutely aware of how she was clutching a half-drunk bottle of coke in a death grip.

“Still very young to be getting into this life.” Ivy said, sounding almost concerned. Steph wasn’t paying that much attention to her, however, she was more worried about the look Catwoman was giving her. Steph had met and spoken to Catwoman in a friendly setting more than once, and she did not like how she was looking at her.

“Some of us start young. Weren’t you about her age when you started, Kitty?” Harley asked, thankfully pulling Catwoman’s attention away from Steph.

“I didn’t have much of a choice back then.” She told Harley with an almost exasperated tone before shuffling over in the booth. “And sit down. You hovering there awkwardly is getting annoying.”

Steph hesitantly sat down on the bench, still clutching her drink before her manners kicked in and she stuck out a hand to Ivy. “I’m Teaser, it’s nice to meet you all.” Ivy regarded the hand with mild amusement before shaking it lightly.

“I read about your little escapade with Eddie. I’d say you’ve made something of a splash with your debut.” She said in a coolly amused tone that somehow set Steph at ease, which in itself was rather worrying. “Is it a permanent arrangement you have with him?”

“As permanent as it needs to be.” Steph shrugged, trying her best to think of how to fit in with the women around the table before she reminded herself that this wasn’t a case. She wasn’t trying to schmooze up to them for information or anything, she was supposed to be one of them, and that gave her a bit more leeway.

“How didja join up with Eddie anyways?” Harley butted in, gesturing with her already half-drunk screwdriver before gasping loudly. “Are you his secret lovechild or somethin’?”

“God, no!” Steph yelped, horrified by the thought. “No way! He’s just my boss.”

“That ain’t answerin’ the question, though.” Harley pointed out, fixing Steph with a stern look. “Cos I know Eddie and he ain’t the sentimental type, at least when it comes to anyone other than Ozzy, so I gotta know why he’d hire a kid like you to be his apprentice.”

“He…” Steph cast around for some plausible explanation that didn’t involve revealing who she really was. “I kinda got caught up in a scheme of his and he saw some potential in me, I suppose.” She shrugged again, hoping that it would be enough to get Harley off her back.

“Well, colour me surprised, then. I never knew Eddie had it in him. Did you, girls?” Both Ivy and Catwoman shook their heads.

“I expect he still somehow managed to justify it to himself as some way to boost his own ego.” Catwoman drawled, tracing a delicate finger around the rim of her glass. “No doubt he likes the idea of having someone he can explain how smart he is to without them trying to arrest him.”

“I’d buy that.” Harley admitted, downing the rest of her drink. “Eddie’s polite enough, but he’s so self-obsessed and arrogant sometimes. Ya know he hates it whenever I bring up that I’ve got a doctorate and he doesn’t?”

Steph didn’t even bother stifling her snort of amusement at this. “It doesn’t surprise me in the least. Maybe I’ll have to get one just to rub in his face.” Snickering, Steph took another drink of her coke, pleased that the ice seemed to have been broken with the mockery of Riddler.

“I bet you could too. What kind, though…” Drumming her fingers on the table, Harley hummed in thought. “I’d say you should go into psychiatry, but I’m kinda biased about that and also look where it got me.”

Steph wasn’t about to tell the women she was sitting with, but she had been considering going into medicine like her mom. Her grades were good enough, but she was pretty certain that it wouldn’t happen. There was no way they could afford all that debt. Though, perhaps with what the Riddler would be paying her, maybe it was more achievable than she’d first thought.

“Maybe let’s not start trying to decide the poor girl’s future on her first night.” Ivy chided Harley gently. “That said, if you do need some advice, you’re welcome to ask us.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Rogues look out for one another, but I suspect you’d probably feel more at ease with the Sirens than with the boys club.” Catwoman jerked a thumb at a rather raucous group of men a few tables over, most notable amongst them being Great White Shark.

“Thanks.” Steph covered up her embarrassment by draining the last of her bottle and getting up from the table abruptly. “Um, could you tell me where the ladies room is, please?”

“Just through there, turn left and keep going. You can’t miss it.” Ivy gestured to a nearby doorway. Nodding her thanks, Steph hurried out of the room. The bathroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the club, but Steph was less interested in that as she was just getting away from that situation.

She felt so very awkward, being befriended by the Sirens of all people. Three women she’d been infatuated with back when she was just starting to feel out her sexuality, and now she was pretty much their colleague and had the strange feeling that they were adopting her.

In short, it was a bit too much for her already anxiety-ridden brain to handle right now. She’d be fine once she just caught her breath and relaxed a little, but she wasn’t given the chance, as the door opened and Catwoman strode in looking very unhappy.

“Just what do you think you and Batman are playing at, Stephanie?” She demanded, walking right up to Steph. “If he wanted someone on the inside, he could have come to me.”

“Who’s Steph?” Steph tried to lie, only to receive a withering look from Catwoman, and she slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”

“I’ve met you before, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. So why did Batman put you up to this?”

“He had nothing to do with it! As if he’d trust me with an infiltration.”

“So you’re doing this solo, then.” Catwoman sighed deeply, shaking her head. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to do this kind of operation on your own?”

“It’s not an operation either. I gave up being Spoiler. I’m the Riddler’s apprentice now. No tricks or games.” That gave Catwoman pause, and she looked at Steph in shock.

“You’re serious? But I thought you hated criminals.”

“Priorities change.” Steph shrugged, unwilling to elaborate further. “And in any case, even if he is an egotistical ass, at least Riddler respected me enough to take me on, unlike someone I could mention.”

Catwoman did not look very happy about this, and she leaned up against the wall as she looked over Steph. “You realise that this is an awful idea, right?”

“I’m aware.” Sighing, Steph met Catwoman’s judgemental gaze as evenly as she could. “And before you ask, yes, the Riddler knows who I really am. I doubt he’d ever hire anyone without knowing everything there was to know about them.”

“I wouldn’t call that a good thing.”

“Probably not, but at least it’s one person I don’t have to bother trying to fool.” Steph fixed Catwoman with an appraising look. “You’re not going to tell Batman or any of the heroes, are you?”

“... I should, but I’m not a snitch.” Catwoman sighed after a long pause. “You’re not going to be able to keep it a secret from them forever, though. They’ll find out sooner or later.”

“I’d rather try to think positively and not assume that as an inevitability.”

“Preparing for the worst-case scenario is always important. In any case, you’ve got Harley and Ivy looking out for you now, so you should be fine if anything rogue-related goes south.” Steph blinked in surprise.

“I do?”

“The Sirens are big on looking after their own, and I’m pretty sure Harley wants to adopt you or something.” Catwoman shook her head in resignation. “She’s kind of like that.”

“I’m still trying to process the part where you implied I’m a Siren now.” Steph rubbed at her temple, trying to get her thoughts in order. “Like, how? I’m working for the Riddler, not with you.”

“Doesn’t matter to Harls, she’s big on women supporting women. She’d probably do the same for any women who end up joining the rogues that she takes a shine to.”

“That’s good of her, I guess.”

“She’s like that. And speaking of Harley, we should probably head back before she organises a search party for us.” Catwoman kicked off the wall and walked over to the door, with Steph following a few moments after. “Do try not to get yourself caught, though, I can’t imagine it’ll do your mother much good if both her husband and daughter end up locked in jail.”

“Ex-husband, they’re divorced.” Steph stressed. “And thanks for the warning, Catwoman.”

“Oh god, please don’t call me that. You can just call me Selina, especially if we’re going to be coworkers, for want of a better word.” Steph nodded in agreement, though as she left the bathroom after Selina, more anxiety started gnawing at her mind at the reminder of what she stood to lose.

Chapter Text

“You’re kidding me.” Steph stared at Dierdre and Nina, unsure whether to be horrified or amused by what they’d just told her.

“Nope, the first time we met Eddie really was whilst he was tied up in a kink club.” Nina laughed before taking another drink of her coffee. It had been a few days since Steph’s introduction to the wider supervillain community of Gotham at the Lounge, and since then, her training had been stepped up a notch.

The Riddler, it seemed, wanted to pull a much bigger heist than the auction robbery soon. Diedre’s arm was mostly better by now, the benefits of super technology slowly making it out to the wider world, and she was ready for another job.

Steph had finally finished with learning how to crack open mechanical locks and safeguards, which meant the Riddler had moved onto teaching her about subverting electronic security. She’d taken to that a lot better than lockpicking and safecracking, her programming elective had always been one of her favourites.

Currently, she was supposed to be putting some of her skills into practice by hacking into five different people’s bank accounts, and where better to start than by hanging around in a coffee shop with free wi-fi? Deirdre and Nina had come along as well, mostly for the coffee and also so the three of them could make fun of the Riddler whilst he wasn’t around.

“I really want to know more, but I am also terrified of the knowledge.” Steph said as she sipped at her skinny caramel iced coffee with extra whipped cream. So what if people would look at her and her choice of drink and call her a white girl? It tasted good and she didn’t give a shit what other people thought about her drink order.

“Not sure what there is to be afraid of.” Dierdre smirked. “You took that we both used to work in a kink club pretty well.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t really all that surprising. You still dress up in fishnets and stuff.” Steph pointed out, getting distracted for a moment as someone new signed onto the fake wi-fi she’d set up to harvest people’s data. “But he’s my boss, and knowing that he’s into that sort of thing is hella weird.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.” Nina shrugged. “Besides, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about doing shit like that.”

“Nina, she’s sixteen.” Dierdre jabbed her partner hard in the side.

“Yeah, and?” Nina pouted at Dierdre. “You know the shit I got up to when I was sixteen. Pretending that sixteen year olds aren’t thinking about sex and stuff is just stupid.”

“There’s a difference between that and actually asking them about their kinky fantasies.” Dierdre groaned. “I swear, you have no idea of how to act around people, do you?”

“Nope! You’ve mentioned it several times.”

Steph tuned out of the other two’s argument and focused instead on all the traffic she was picking up through her fake hotspot. It hadn’t been that difficult to set up, and after only about an hour of sitting and drinking her white girl drink, she’d already harvested the data of quite a few of the patrons.

If this was for any criminal other than the Riddler, Steph would have felt more guilty about stealing these people’s personal information and bank details, but she knew the Riddler wouldn’t stoop so low as to empty the accounts of a few random people on the street.

Of course, it did worry her a little that she didn’t feel very much guilt about it to begin with, given that what she was doing was still illegal. Then again, she had been engaged in a far more serious crime, at least in her mind. Part of Riddler's education had also included the various laws that she was breaking, and with this latest area of study, how particularly draconian cybersecurity laws could be. 

In any case, the ease with which Steph found herself trawling through the various passwords and usernames she’d collected was perhaps a little disturbing.

“We should probably head back, the boss will probably want us getting shit ready for next week.” Diedre announced, catching Steph’s attention as she finished off her drink. “You coming with?”

“I’ve still got stuff to do here, and I haven’t finished my coffee yet.” Steph waved the clear plastic cup at the other two. “What are you getting stuff ready for?”

“Eddie will tell you soon, I’m sure.” Nina reassured her, patting her on the head. “See you back at the office, Stephie.” With a small wiggle of her fingers, Nina waved goodbye to Steph as she and Dierdre headed out, leaving Steph to her phishing.

She’d already gotten two people’s details, throwing together a couple of reasonably accurate emails that purported to be from their bank in order to convince them that their accounts were compromised. A lot of what she was doing right now wasn’t even really hacking, it was social engineering.

Riddler liked to talk a big game about cracking encryptions, and Steph was sure that Oracle would share his views. Steph, on the other hand, was more than aware that the human was the weakest point in the security chain. Why bother trying to break in with some ridiculous code when you could just get people to hand over their passwords themselves?

Steph’s fingers flew over the keyboard of the laptop The Riddler had given her to use for his latest series of lessons. She could afford to leave her software ticking over unattended for a little while whilst she continued to work on her side project.

After she’d had the idea the night she’d broken up with Robin, Steph had been looking into her idea of tracking the movement of superheroes via social media. Naturally, she was using Nightwing as her first test case, since he had the biggest social media presence, and she’d been making good headway on it.

Currently it was able to trawl through a few picture sharing apps, identify uploads with relevant tags and find the location, from which the picture was posted and attach it to a map accordingly. Admittedly, it wasn’t foolproof. If the person posting the picture was connected to wifi, the location wouldn’t be accurate, and sometimes people didn’t post their pictures until quite a bit later.

But it was getting there, and soon she’d be able to keep rough tabs on some of the more visible heroes. If nothing else, it did help keep her mind busy and occupied, and not thinking about how she was a wanted criminal now.

“Hey, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting all alone?” Steph blinked and looked up from the lines of code to see a guy maybe a year older than her standing over her with a wide and smarmy smile. He looked just like the kind of guy Steph used to go out with before Robin, the kind who’d act all charming and nice and shower her with attention until they got what they wanted.

The kind who’d run a mile at best and kill her at worst if they did get what they wanted.

“Working. Enjoying my drink.” Stephanie took a meaningful sip of her drink before remembering that engaging was possibly the worst thing she could have done.

“Cool, cool.” The guy nodded, pulling out one of the recently vacated chairs and sitting down on it, spreading himself out. Steph silently cursed herself for her carelessness. Now she’d never get this guy to leave. “So, uh, working on what?”

Steph could have opted not to answer, but no doubt that would lead to the guy making a scene, and Steph didn’t need that. She liked this coffee shop and it was the only decent one within walking distance of the brownstone that housed the office.

“A program that will scan the metadata of pictures posted to social media and check the time elapsed between when the photo was taken and when it was uploaded.” She said in a flat voice, not looking up from her screen as she noticed someone else had fallen for one of her fake emails.

It really was too easy sometimes, though she might have to make a move soon in case someone finally noticed that she was drowning out the store’s actual free wifi.

“I see…” From the tone of his voice, Steph could tell that the guy had pretty much no idea of what she was talking about. Maybe if she’d gone for something that was far more complicated and complete bullshit, he might have been intimidated by her knowledge and left her alone, but she had no such luck.

“So, coding, huh? Guess you’re pretty smart, then.” Steph resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her standards when it came to boys were a lot higher these days since she’d dated Robin. True, he could be kind of a jerk sometimes, and not knowing who he was behind the mask had really sucked. It had sucked enough to be the second big reason to break up with him. Other than that, though, he’d been a pretty decent guy.

At the very least, he’d been a damn good kisser who would actually listen to her when they were talking.

“Smart and good looking. Is there anything you aren’t?” Steph had a great many answers for that, highest on the list being ‘not a real girl’, but she crushed that one down and instead shrugged as she continued typing away. The sooner she could finish this bit of code up, the sooner she could finish her drink and get the fuck out of there.

“The quiet type too. I can dig that.” The guy was persistent, Steph had to give him that. Though in this case, she was fairly sure that was more a flaw than a virtue. “You know, I never actually got your name.”

“I never gave it.” Steph deadpanned, refusing to say anything further.

“Well?” The guy asked and Steph decided she’d had enough of this. She hated pausing when she was in the middle of something but this guy was just too annoying. Draining the last of her coffee, Steph stood up and closed the lid of her laptop.

“I have to go, I’ve got a meeting.” She lied, tucking the computer into her bag and heading for the door. Her hopes that the guy would leave her alone after that were thwarted though as he got up as well and followed her.

“I’ll walk with you, I’ve got nowhere to be.” He volunteered, overtaking her and opening the door.

This had gone on for way too long, and it really was time to cause a scene. “No, I’d really rather you didn’t, and that you’d leave me alone.” Steph snapped, glaring at him.

“Hey, I was only being nice.” The guy insisted, his smarmy grin slipping away to be replaced with a scowl. “You’re the one who talked to me.”

“It’s called being polite, asshole.” Steph snappeed, not caring about the audience that was gathering to watch. “And since you seem to be unable to recognise when a girl isn’t interested in you, allow me to be as blunt as possible. I am not interested in you at all.”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” He fired back, letting the door swing shut as he approached Steph menacingly. “All you had to do was say no.”

“Right, because I’m sure that you would have taken it as well as you are now.” Steph snarked with a roll of her eyes. “Now, if you could just step out of the way, we can be out of each other’s hair.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you apologise for being a frigid bitch to me.” The guy folded his arms and stood expectantly. “All I did was pay you a few compliments, and this is what I get as thanks?”

“You’re the one who bothered me. I don’t owe you shit. Just because you compliment a girl doesn’t mean you’re owed anything.” Steph tried to step around the guy, only for him to step in her way, preventing her from leaving. Steph stepped to the other side, only for him to mirror her movement.

“Apology, now.” Steph glanced around, mildly annoyed by the apathy of everyone else in the shop, even the staff. Steph was sure that if they didn’t have the best coffee in the area, she would not be returning after this.

“Please, don’t make a thing out of this.” She warned, finally tiring of trying to resolve this in a peaceful manner. “Move.”

“No.” Steph sighed and tried one last time to leave the store, only for the guy to shove her back firmly.

“You all saw that he touched me first?” She asked, not bothering to wait for a response before punching the guy in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. She didn’t even hit him all that hard, he was just a random guy after all.

It was enough though to have him hunching over and unable to stop her as she calmly stepped around him to leave.

“You fucking bitch.” He gasped out just as she was about to open the door. Steph paused for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder.

“Look who’s talking, that was barely a love tap.” Shaking her head, Steph left to head back to the office, she still had quite a bit of work to do.

One of the few fringe benefits to no longer going out at night to be a C-list hero was that Steph was getting a proper night’s sleep now. No longer was she staying up until the wee hours and collapsing in bed, only to have to get up a few hours later for school.

Of course, Steph still stayed up pretty late, working on whatever assignment the Riddler had given her. Tonight, though, she was still working on the improvements to her social media hero tracker. The biggest issue she was running into was that it was quite hard to confirm that her system was working. The only way she really could do it would be to go out herself and track the heroes, or somehow sneak a tracking device onto one of them and use it to cross reference.

Neither plan particularly appealed to her, especially since she’d pretty much cut ties with the hero community, not that she’d really had any outside of Robin and maybe Batgirl, they hadn’t really spoken much since No Man’s Land. Grumbling to herself, Steph checked her code again. She’d been sure that her idea of comparing the picture metadata with the time uploaded would be the perfect solution to the issue of people posting pictures of heroes much later than when they’d taken them, and it had been. 

Of course, she was now encountering a new issue. When she’d just been checking photo sharing sites, everything had been fine, but when she started to cast her net wider, it turned out that just using the tags was not a good enough filter for relevant posts.

Steph had always been vaguely aware of the existence of the Real Heroes Fandom, people who’d draw fanart of Superman or write fics about the first two Robins getting it on. She’d purposefully not gone looking for it for fear of finding out what people had done with Spoiler, though she knew Robin kept up with the various tags for his own amusement.

Unfortunately, a lot of the artists and other creatives used the same tags that the people taking the selfies. Steph was at a loss for how she could filter out the art, fics, headcanons and shitposts from what she actually needed. She’d tried more tag filtering, but some people were rather shit at tagging their stuff properly. She’d been able to thin it out by setting it up to ignore posts by certain users whom she’d determined to be primarily posters of fandom content, but there was still an annoyingly large proportion of irrelevant posts clogging up her tracking system.

Giving up on the code for a little while, Steph flopped back on her bed to stare up at the ceiling. She could hardly believe next week it would be a month since she’d started working for the Riddler. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do when summer vacation ended and she had to go back to school, but she’d probably work something out in the end.

In the meantime, she just had to focus on the immediate problems of not getting caught. So far, she seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it, and hopefully her luck would continue to hold out with Selina on her side.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a tapping on her window. Figuring it was just a curious pigeon, Steph sat up, ready to chase it off, only to find that it was a different bird.

“Robin?!” She yelped at the sight of the teen hero, slamming the lid of her laptop shut before she opened the window. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” The boy shrugged, climbing inside. “Make sure you’re doing okay.”

“Well, I’m doing fine now that I’m out of the vigilante business.” Steph folded her arm and gave her ex-boyfriend a hard look. “I’m guessing the big ol’ bat was thrilled that I’m hanging up the cape.”

“I wouldn’t say he was overjoyed or anything.” Robin said, scratching at the back of his head. “He was pretty pleased that you’d ‘finally seen sense’, though. His words, not mine.” Steph scowled at the reminder of how much Batman disapproved of her. Well, he’d be even more disapproving if he knew what she got up to now. She almost wanted to rub it in his face that she had an actual mentor now, one directly opposed to him. It would be a petty vengeance, but Steph could be pretty damn petty when she wanted.

“Why are you here, Robin?” She asked in an effort to distract herself. “You’re not just here to make sure I’m doing okay, are you.”

“I am, actually.” Steph raised an eyebrow. For all his training, Robin could be an awful liar sometimes. “Okay, that’s not the whole story.”

“I figured, so spill.”

“I’m assuming you’ve heard about the new rogue on the scene, the one working for Riddler.” Steph did her best not to react too extremely at the mention of her alter ego.

“Teaser? I’ve heard of her. Stupid name.”

“Yeah, well she’s got Oracle a bit rattled.” That definitely piqued Steph’s interest. How could she possibly have gotten to Oracle? “She directly called out Oracle during her fight with Huntress, and she knew something about Oracle that nobody should have known.”

“And?”

“Oracle’s worried that she’s smarter than she’s letting on, that she’s not just your run of the mill second-in-command.” Steph had to suppress a laugh. She wasn’t dumb by any means, but she was definitely nowhere near Oracle’s league. “Oracle thinks that she might even have access to our networks and some of our information, and that we might be in danger if we have been compromised.”

Steph quickly put together what Robin was implying and why he was concerned about her. “You kept my details on your network for anyone to find?!” She shrieked angrily, glaring at Robin. “All of you get your secret identities, but you all get to know who I am?!”

“I was against it, but Oracle insisted.” Robin raised his hands in surrender. “I shouldn’t even be here, but I thought you deserved a warning in case she came for you or your mom.”

“Well, thanks for that, I guess.” Steph grumbled. It wasn’t hard to pretend that she was angry about how she was potentially in danger from herself since she was legitimately mad at her information being made available to all the vigilantes in Gotham. “Ugh, this is just fantastic.”

“It’s pretty bad, yeah.” Robin said apologetically. “I should probably get going before Batman wonders why I’m not on my patrol route.”

“Yeah, sure. See ya, Boy Wonder.” Steph waved for him to leave, and he did after one last look back at her. Steph closed the window behind him and collapsed onto her bed with a loud groan. This was great, now she had Oracle after her as well. The chances of her evading discovery were next to zero now if she had the world’s greatest hacker on her case. She could only hope that Oracle was busy with other things and didn’t have the time or resources to devote to working out how the mysterious Teaser knew she was a woman.

Maybe throwing her lot in with the Riddler hadn’t been the best decision she’d ever made.

Chapter Text

Steph spent the next day fretting over what Robin had told her about Oracle being on her case. She knew that it was only a matter of time, and not a lot of it, if Oracle was seriously trying to track her down and work out who she was. The hacker had the entirety of Gotham at her fingertips, as well as what amounted to her own personal squad of superheroines at her disposal.

Steph knew that the Riddler was good, he was able to go pretty much toe-to-toe with Batman on occasion, but in her opinion, Oracle was even better than Batman. The big bad bat might scare and worry Steph more than a little, but Oracle terrified her, which was pretty good going for a woman nobody ever saw.

She spent a while debating whether to let the Riddler know about Oracle’s interest in her. He would definitely want to know, but she was worried it would make her seem like more of a liability to him and his operation. In the end, she hadn’t told him, and had left the office without breathing a word of this new development to head back home, where she now lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

It was a little hard to admit, but Steph was actually growing to rather like working for the Riddler. The illegal activity aside, it paid well and she was actually learning something, a lot of things, in fact, and she wasn’t so keen on losing all of it so soon.

She needed to know just how close Oracle was to uncovering her identity. Once she knew that, she could plan accordingly, possibly try to direct her attention away from Stephanie Brown, though perhaps that might only draw more attention to her.

The real question was how to do that, though. Steph had never been in contact with Oracle before, none of the bats had trusted her enough for that, and any contact she’d had with the hacker extraordinaire had been through Robin.

Steph definitely didn’t fancy her chances at hacking into the communications network the Gotham heroes used. Even if she could do it, which she doubted very much given her rudimentary skills, there was no doubt in her mind that Oracle would find out about the hack and would double her efforts to find her.

No, Steph needed another way to get more information. She could possibly try to talk to Robin again, though that might be a little tricky, not to mention suspicious. Other than him, though, she had no other point of contact with the more heroic side of Gotham’s nightlife. She now had plenty with the underworld, though. The networking at the Iceberg Lounge had helped a lot. She had the contacts of not only the Penguin, who had promised her a good rate on anything she wanted to fence, but also a few other rogues, as well as the numbers of all the Sirens.

She bolted upright as she suddenly realised that she did have another contact with the heroes. One that would be far less suspicious of her motives, one she wouldn’t even have to bother concealing them from.

Steph excitedly scrabbled for one of the many burner phones the Riddler had provided her and flipped through the contacts until she found the one she’d cryptically labelled as ‘Moon’s Cat Groomers’. Not the most original alias she could have come up with, but it served its purpose well enough.

Opening up the contact, Steph tapped out a quick text to Selina and sent it off, before flopping back on her bed to wait impatiently for the response. She’d always been something of a restless kid, her mom had commented upon it frequently enough, unable to really stay still for very long unless she was given something to occupy her overactive mind, and now was no different.

She was already bored of waiting for Selina to reply, and it hadn’t yet been a minute, so she rolled over onto her front to grab the laptop out from under her bed to do some more work on her social media scraper.

She hadn’t made much progress after Robin had interrupted her last night, so she’d just set it to do its thing, and was planning on just going through what it had dug up in order to refine its parameters even further.

There was still a lot of fanart gumming up her searches, but thankfully, she wasn’t exposed to anything too horrifying. The ones who did the more explicit art were at least diligent about tagging it as such. Of course, she really could do without all the pictures of Batman making out with the Joker. Even if there was a blatant homoeroticism to their relationship, it was still really fucking weird to ship anyone with a mass murdering criminal.

It did give her something else to filter, though, and after about a minute, she’d added all of the tags mentioning the rogues to her exclusion. She could work out a method for tracking the rogues later, probably just adapting from this one she was working on.

She was distracted from her latest train of thought about discerning patterns in rogue attacks by a buzzing from the burner phone. Grabbing it, Steph opened up the message, finding just an address, and she rolled her eyes at the dramatics of it.

She knew most of Gotham by heart, at least the bits she would frequent, the East End and that general area, but she didn’t recognise the address she’d been sent. It only took her a moment to look it up and she let out a low whistle as she realised just how fancy of a neighbourhood it was. Evidently, being a supercriminal did pay off.

It would take her at least half an hour to get over to that side of town, so Steph stashed her laptop back in its hiding spot and started to get her stuff together to head out. Thankfully, her mom was out on shift again, but hopefully once she got her first paycheck from the Riddler, she might be able to persuade her to cut back on the overtime a bit.

Tucking her keys into her pocket, Steph briefly debated whether she should take her actual phone with her, before deciding against it. She didn’t need anyone wondering why Stephanie Brown was going to see Selina Kyle this late in the day, or at all. Set and ready to go, Steph flicked off the light and headed out to meet Catwoman.

Steph felt very out of place as she stood outside the tall apartment building Selina had directed her to. It was far far fancier than any place Steph had ever set foot in, barring, of course, the times she’d been in costume.

She could feel the dirty looks she was getting from the various passersby, people who had more money than she or her mom would ever have. She wasn’t even dressed particularly shabbily either, just in one of her normal casual outfits that she’d gotten from a thrift store, but she still stuck out like a sore thumb.

She briefly wondered if she was supposed to scale the building to get in, but thought better of it. Better that people saw a slightly scruffy teen go in the front than get caught trying to break in through a window.

The building had a doorman, because of course it had a fucking doorman, it was that fancy, and he gave her a sharp look as she walked in and approached his desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Miss Kyle, number 43.” She gave him her most winsome grin, hoping that her blonde all-american girl looks would be enough to stop him from kicking her out right away. He frowned at her, but nonetheless picked up a phone and pressed a button on it.

“May I have a name, please?”

“Brown, Stephanie Brown.” The doorman nodded and waited for an answer from the phone.

“Yes, Miss Kyle? I have a Miss Stephanie Brown here to see you. Shall I send her up?” There was a brief pause then he nodded reluctantly. “Of course, Miss Kyle.” He hung up the phone and shot Steph an unpleasant look. “She’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Thank you very much.” Steph chirped, rather amused by his obvious distaste for her as he pressed a button which opened up the elevator at the far end of the lobby. Flashing him a smile, Steph trotted over to the elevator and got in, hitting the button for Selina’s floor.

It was a little disconcerting to be taking an elevator that didn’t rattle or have lights that would flicker whenever the door opened, and Steph shifted uncomfortably on the spot until it reached the right floor.

Everything about the building was fancy, and Steph couldn’t help but curl her lip at how lavish it all was. Still, she marshalled her disdain for how the other half lived, walked the short distance to Selina’s apartment and knocked on the door.

Steph had to struggle not to roll her eyes as the door opened, revealing Selina Kyle, still all dolled up with impeccable make up despite ostensibly being in her own home. She couldn’t help but eye up the woman’s curves enviously as she once again played a game of ‘do I want her or do I want to be her’ silently in her head.

“Come in, then, Stephanie.” Selina said, stepping back into the apartment and allowing Steph to follow her inside. It was just as lavish as the corridors and the rest of the public areas of the building was, though as she looked around the room, a few details jumped out at Steph, and she spoke up.

“You don’t live here, do you? This place doesn’t look lived in at all.” She said, looking around the pristine surroundings.

“Of course not, I wasn’t about to invite you to my actual home.” Selina confirmed with a dismissive wave. “I like to keep this place for entertaining guests, and for… other purposes.” Steph could guess what she meant by that, and decided that she would stay in the living room and not investigate the apartment any further.

“Right, of course you can keep a place like this as an expensive getaway.” Steph grumbled, mostly to herself. She didn’t really know what to expect from the woman who seemed to spend most of her time that wasn’t stealing hanging off the arm of Bruce Wayne.

“Are you going to tell me why you just had to speak to me so urgently or are you going to continue to question my lifestyle?” Selina asked, raising an eyebrow as she draped herself over the couch. “Because if you want, we can discuss my sordid past instead of whatever you wanted to talk about.”

“No, that’s fine.” Steph grumbled, seating herself gingerly in one of the chairs. “I needed to talk to you about Oracle.”

“Okay?” Selina raised an eyebrow and gestured for Steph to continue.

“Robin came to see me last night. Apparently, since I know Oracle’s a woman and not some robot, I’ve got her rattled enough to start paying attention to Teaser.”

“And you’re talking to me about this because…?”

“I figured you might know something more about whatever investigation Oracle’s conducting into me. You’re fairly tight with the heroes, I figured they might have gone to you to see if you knew anything, and I also assumed that Oracle probably had you tapped for the Birds of Prey too.”

Selina tilted her head and frowned in thought for a moment. “Okay, not a bad few deductions, Steph. Oracle did reach out to me a couple of nights ago about whether I’d been in contact with Eddie and his new apprentice.”

“And?”

“I told her I hadn’t, of course. I told you I’m not a snitch.” Selina said, offence clear in her tone.

“Right, sorry.” Steph apologised quickly. “Did you get any impression at all how urgent the investigation is?”

“Not really, though, I’m sure if it was urgent, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now and you’d already be caught.” Selina pointed out, and Steph had to concede that point. Right now, she was mostly relying on her relative anonymity, that nobody would suspect her of being the latest rogue on the scene.

“Yes, but is she doing more than just making a few inquiries? Has she mobilised the Birds or anything?”

“I doubt it. You got Oracle a bit rattled, she’s not going to mobilise a strike force against you and Eddie.” Selina rolled her eyes. “As much as Eddie likes to think that he’s the greatest rogue of all time and the centre of the universe, but he’s not really that big to anyone outside of Gotham, and Oracle’s got a lot more to worry about than this one city. Riddler’s barely a blip on her radar normally, you just made him a slightly bigger blip.”

“If you say so…” Steph said, doubtfully. She was fairly certain that Oracle was actually based in Gotham, or had close ties to the city given her association with the bats, and anything that happened in Gotham was sure to catch her attention more than anything else.

“Just don’t do anything else to catch her attention and you should be fine for a little while longer.” Selina said casually, waving off Steph’s concerns. “She’ll probably dismiss it as a fluke, or someone being a little too loose-lipped when talking about her.”

“I mean, that is exactly what happened.” Steph said with a small laugh. “Robin got a little careless a few times.”

“I’m not too surprised, he’s still young. You are too, really.” Steph elected not to protest this, and instead did her best to ignore the not-so-subtle jab.

“Yes, well, it is a weight off my mind to know that I’m not Oracle’s number one priority.”

“Please, you’re probably not even in the top ten.” Selina said with a laugh. Were Steph an actual rogue and not just someone who was in this for the money, she might have cared more about getting attention. As it was, for once, she was glad that she wasn’t being paid attention, and the irony did not escape her.

“Good to know.” Steph allowed herself to relax a little in the chair as she mulled over some other things in her mind. “Do all the bats know who you are?”

“What?”

“I mean, out of the costume, because they apparently all know who I am.”

“Oh, yes, they do.” Selina frowned at this. “It’s not all bad, though, since I know all of them out of the spandex too.” This was news to Steph, and she raised her eyebrows as irritation filled her chest.

“Please tell me that you found them out by spying on them or something, and not that they told you.” She asked, her tone deliberately light, but Selina seemed to have noticed.

“No, Batman told me.” Steph gritted her teeth and did her best not to let her anger show. So the bats trusted a known career criminal with their secret identities, but they didn’t trust her, yet it was perfectly alright for them to stick her in one of their databases.

“And I suppose that’s why you keep getting away? Because they know you can expose them?”

“I’m not a snitch, I wouldn’t do that to them.” Selina snapped. “I’m just that good, though it doesn’t hurt that the big bad bat’s got a bit of a soft spot for me.”

“Somehow, I think soft is the exact opposite of how he feels about you.” Steph muttered sourly, feeling thoroughly annoyed by all of this. “Here I am, terrified that I’m going to get caught and sent to juvie, whilst you just get to swan around living the high life and not needing to worry because you and Batbrain do the horizontal tango.”

“Hey, nothing stopping you from getting the same sort of treatment. Weren’t you and Robin dating?”

“If you could call it dating when you know nothing about your boyfriend except for his predilection for wearing brightly coloured spandex.” Steph grumbled, her burst of anger starting to subside. “And anyway, I broke up with him when I quit being Spoiler. I don’t like him enough to do the whole ‘dating your nemesis’ thing.”

“If you’re that worried, it doesn’t need to be genuine.” Selina shrugged, and Steph gave her a withering look.

“And I am definitely not doing that. I am not going to be some femme fatale and seduce a bat just to get lenience.”

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to rely on your wits and your boss to keep you out of trouble.” Selina said, starting to sound thoroughly bored by the conversation as she examined her nails. “Now, if that’s everything, I’ve got things to do, priceless artifacts to liberate. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, sure.” Steph sighed and got to her feet to leave. “Thanks for the info about Oracle.”

“It was nothing, dear. Oh, and when you see him next, tell Eddie that he’s a pompous ass and that I’ve got a request for him.”

“I’ll be sure to pass the message along.” Steph said with a small huff of laughter. Waving farewell to Selina, Steph left the apartment and headed back towards the elevator. Even though the conversation had gone a bit off the rails towards the end, Steph did feel rather reassured that she wasn’t in any immediate danger from Oracle.

For now, at least. Who knew how long that would last with whatever it was that the Riddler had planned for next week? No doubt it would be something pretty big, and she just hoped she’d be able to get through it with her identity intact.

Chapter Text

“So…” Steph spun her chair around to face the Riddler. “Are you planning on telling me what you’ve been cooking up for the last couple of weeks?”

“Hmmm?” He looked up from his workbench, setting aside his soldering iron so he could pay more attention to Steph. “What was that?”

“You’ve been planning something for a little while now, and you’re leaving me out of the loop.” Steph reiterated. “Nina and Diedre are in the know, and they said they couldn’t tell me until you did.”

“Right, I did tell them that, didn’t I?” Riddler mused to himself, leaning back against his workbench. “I’ve mostly been busy working out what your exact role in this operation is.”

“Oh, an operation, is it? Very fancy.” Steph snorted, earning a scowl from the Riddler.

“Well why don’t you come up with a better name for it then?”

“I would, if I knew what it was.” Steph snarked back, smirking as the Riddler’s scowl deepened as he realised he’d been outmaneuvered.

“I bet you think you’re so clever.” He grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Nope, because I’m not you. Now spill.”

“Fine, since you’re so eager.” Rolling his eyes, Riddler wandered over to the nearby desk and booted up the computer. “I’ve been intending to take advantage of our crew’s expansion to hit multiple targets at once.”

“Couldn’t you do that before, though? Just hire some guys.”

“I wouldn’t trust something like this to the rank and file.” Riddler dismissed. “These are the sorts of things that require a more deft touch.”

“And by that you mean me, Nina and Diedre.”

“In as many words.” The Riddler finally finished booting up his computer and gestured for Steph to join him. Walking around the desk, Steph watched as he pulled up a few files and diagrams. It didn’t take a genius to work out that they were blueprints, and with her new tutelage, she recognised what appeared to be various alarm systems.

“Okay, what’s all that for, then?”

“Do you pay much attention to security news?” Steph shook her head. “You should, it’s important for our line of business. Now, just a couple of weeks ago, Janus Security announced their latest in their Deadlock Vault line. They say that it is completely impenetrable, with top of the line security software and all manner of protections, and if that is not a red cape to a bull, I don’t know what is?”

“I don’t follow. I thought your thing was puzzles?”

“Miss Brown, what is a lock if not a puzzle to be solved?” Riddler sighed and shook his head. “In any case, after a few days of looking through the designs, for a security company, their own is ironically lacking, I believe I have a way in.”

“So that’s your big plan, you’re going to break into an impenetrable vault to prove a point?”

“I’m also going to steal everything inside.” The Riddler rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses. “There just so happens to be one in Gotham, installed at the Powers’ estate. They're major shareholders in the company.”

“Right, so how does this tie into you having a larger crew now?”

“Well, it’s all well and good breaking into their estate and cracking the vault, but I need to ensure I won’t be interrupted.”

“You already sent out a riddle, didn’t you?” Steph groaned, rubbing at her temples. “And now you presumably want me and the others to throw the bats off your trail.”

“Almost got it, Miss Brown. I didn’t send out a riddle alluding to the robbery at the Powers’ estate, it instead refers to three other crimes that will be committed in two nights time. Whilst I am already in progress, you, Query and Echo will execute these sub-heists I’m assigning you, and you will each leave behind a riddle that, when taken all together, will point towards this heist.”

The Riddler grinned, looking very proud of himself, whilst Steph could only look at him in mild despair.

“Why do you even need to send out the riddles? I get that it’s your gimmick and those are very important in Gotham, but seriously, you’re just shooting yourself in the foot with them, and for what? Proving that you’re smarter than Batman and Oracle?”

A long silence stretched between the two of them as the Riddler stared at his computer screen, his fists clenching,

“... You really think I haven’t tried, Miss Brown?” He asked quietly, and Steph got the very distinct and clear impression that she’d fucked up. “Do you really think I would sabotage myself like this if I had any choice in the matter? Because I did try once. I tried not to leave my riddles, but it turned out that, without even thinking, I still did.”

He looked up at Steph who took half a step back at the anger in his face. “This is just about the best that I can really do. So yes, I do need to send these riddles out.” Without bothering to wait for a response, Riddler marched back over to his workbench and picked up his soldering iron again to continue with what he’d been doing.

“I’m sorry.” Steph mumbled, cursing herself mentally for sticking her foot in her mouth. She’d always had this habit of speaking without thinking things through. “That was rude of me.” Riddler simply grunted in response, not looking up from his project.

Sighing deeply to herself, Steph approached him, stopping about a metre behind. “So, what do you need me to do?” There was a long pause, then the Riddler set his soldering iron down once more and turned to face Steph with an evil grin. She was definitely going to be paying for her insensitive comments now.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Steph regretted a lot of things, but right now, she really regretted pissing off her boss, as she slogged her way through the sewers beneath the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Art. Of course he would give her the worst of his assignments. In the interests of not pissing him off anymore, she hadn’t mentioned how on the nose it was for him to send her to rob the roman exhibit and to just steal the statue of Janus they had.

Franky, Steph didn’t even know why they had one. It wasn’t as though Janus was a particularly major god or anything, as far as she knew from that one semester she’d done on Roman history. Still, it was very convenient that there was one so the Riddler could make his very heavy-handed reference.

She would have much preferred to go on one of his other heavy-handed references. Nina had lucked out and was busy over at the power plant, whilst Diedre was busy at the arena where they’d held the tryouts for the olympic gymnastics team.

Riddler really was scrabbling for good riddles if the best he could do was some free word association between ‘power’, ‘Janus’ and ‘vault’. Still, she supposed it was something, and he had at least been thoughtful enough to provide her with some waders so she wouldn’t end up getting her suit dirty.

Checking the map Riddler had given her, Steph came to a halt, turning around and confirming that she’d reached the big X marked on it. Satisfied, Steph opened up the heavy bag that she’d brought with her and started pulling out the charges.

As much as Riddler disliked such methods of entry, he had to acknowledge that breaking into the museum on her own would be beyond her current skills, even if it was just the metropolitan museum and not any of the other fancier ones that were more frequently the targets of supervillain heists, not to mention the fact that he did want some attention drawn.

After attaching the explosives to the ceiling, Steph took a step back to admire her handiwork, before retreating down the tunnel until she rounded a bend. Pressing her back against the wall, Steph pulled out the detonator. She took a deep breath, then hit the button, covering up her ears.

It didn’t help that much, as she still heard the faint roar of the explosions going off and the shuddering shockwave roll through her. Once it was done, however, she ran out from her hiding place to see the bombs had done their job and blown a hole right into the middle of the exhibit room she was supposed to be robbing.

Her ears were still ringing a little as she clambered her way up and into the museum, and it wasn’t just from the explosion. Alarms were all going off around her as she hurried over to the display. With no time for subtlety, Steph dropped the bag to one side, before she raised her cane and swung it hard against the glass.

The impact sent judders up her arms, but she was rewarded with the case shattering beneath the metal head of the cane. Without pausing, she grabbed the statuette from its plinth and placed it in the bag as carefully as she could. It was still a reasonably priceless artifact, and she wasn’t about to go swinging it around carelessly.

Having grabbed what she came for, Steph hoisted the bag up onto her shoulder and ran for the hole, dropping back down into the sewers and splashing her way to the exit point. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she ran through the tunnels. Once again, she’d plunged even deeper into criminality, no more was she a mere accomplice, standing off to the side while the Riddler postured, she’d actually broken in and stolen something on her own.

Finally, she reached her exit point and quickly scaled the ladder, heaving the manhole cover aside and emerging into an alleyway a little ways away from the museum she’d just robbed. Breathing heavily, Steph looked around the alleyway, and her eyes alighted on a fire escape. It would beat having to dodge her way through the streets in costume with cops all converging on this location.

Ditching the waders, Steph hurried over to the ladder and started climbing, the bag with the stolen statue weighing heavily on both her shoulder and her conscience. She was still struggling to come to terms with her larger role in the Riddler’s criminal enterprise and what that really meant for her. She’d spent so long just learning from him over the last couple of weeks that she’d almost forgotten what it was in service of.

Lost in thought as she was, she didn’t notice she’d reached the top of the fire escape until she tried to take another step and stumbled, nearly falling face first onto the roof. She just about managed to catch herself, though, and she took off at a jog.

It was only when she was halfway across the roof that she realised that things were going a little too well. Something was wrong.

Steph came to a screeching halt and spun around just in time to see a hint of dark shadow flitting behind a vent. Anyone else would have missed it, but Steph had spent enough time with the bats to know what to look for when it came to them.

“I know you’re there!” She called out, shifting the bag around and raising her cane. She could only hope that it was someone who she could take on, or at least escape from. She absolutely could not let herself get caught or discovered.

There was a long and tense pause, during which Steph kept glancing around, worried that they were sneaking around to attack her from another angle. Then, a shadow detached itself from the darkness and approached Steph whose heart plummeted as she realised it was possibly the last person she wanted to go up against in a fight.

It was Batgirl.

Shifting her grip nervously, Steph’s mind raced as she tried to think of a way out of this. Currently her plan was to just ditch the bag and hope that that would be enough to dissuade Batgirl from pursuing her.

Batgirl didn’t move to attack her, though. Instead she paused, her head tilting to the side as she looked at Steph. The full face mask obscured any expressions, but Steph was reasonably certain that she was confused for some reason.

Steph unconsciously shifted her grip on her cane, shifting from foot to foot as she wondered if she should make the first move or wait for Batgirl to. As she did this, though, something in Batgirl’s stance relaxed, and she seemed almost surprised and taken aback.

“Spoiler?”

Oh shit.

“No! Who’s that?” Steph squawked fearfully, wondering how exactly Batgirl knew it was her. She’d barely said anything, and was deliberately using a different tone and pattern of speech.

“You. You move like Spoiler.” Batgirl stated, approaching Steph, far more relaxed than she had been just a few moments before.

“Don’t come any closer.” Steph warned, raising her cane threateningly, but it had no effect as batgirl continued to walk towards her.

“Stephanie, why are you doing this?” Batgirl asked, finally coming to a halt a couple of metres away from Steph. Steph had to bite back a groan of annoyance that Batgirl knew her identity, and she considered denying the accusation again.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Can tell you’re lying.” Batgirl said and Steph just groaned and swore loudly. Clearly, she was not going to be able to talk her way out of this.

“Is Oracle listening right now?” She asked, resigned to her run coming to an end. She’d say that it had been good, but it really hadn’t and it had been painfully short.

“No. Turned comms off when realised was you.” That was at least some small comfort, she had a little bit of time before her life was utterly ruined.

“Well, that’s something, at least.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do this?”

“There are lots of reasons, too many to explain when I’m supposed to be in the middle of my getaway.” Steph snarked, only to receive no reaction from Batgirl.

“Tell me.”

“Well what do you want me to say? That I was sick and tired of Batman and everyone else treating me like shit? That working for the Riddler means I have someone who actually treats me with a modicum of respect?”

Batgirl still said nothing, and Steph sighed deeply. She didn’t really know what she expected from the hero, she probably had no idea what it was like for her. She had the backing of Batman and all the acceptance from them she could get, she wouldn’t know what it was like to be poor and have an asshole for a father and crave affection from others.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you-.”

“I know.”

“But I also don’t want to go to jail or anything. So if I just toss you the bag, it’s got a clue to what the Riddler’s up to, can I just go?” Batgirl didn’t answer immediately, and Steph wondered if she’d pushed for a little too much.

“I shouldn’t…”

“Well, think fast!” Unslinging the bag from her shoulder, Steph threw it at Batgirl, who caught it with ease, as though she’d been expecting it. “And if you need some more persuasion, there’s still a charge in the bag and I have the detonator.”

Reaching into her jacket, Steph pulled out the detonator as she started to back away. Batgirl didn’t react to the threat, she simply watched Steph make her way to the edge of the roof. Tucking her cane under one arm, Steph reached into her jacket once more and pulled out her grappling gun. If Batgirl knew who she was, there was no point hiding it.

Steph glanced away momentarily to aim her gun properly, and when she looked back, Batgirl was gone. Shaking her head, Steph tucked the detonator away and swung off into the night. The thrill of adrenaline that she felt swinging through the night didn’t cheer her like it did before. Steph’s heart was heavy as she flew through the air. It might be the last time she got to do so before Batman came for her and arrested her.

Chapter Text

Steph managed to hold herself together as she made her way home, but as she crawled in through her bedroom window and the adrenaline really started to fade, she couldn’t keep it together. Rushing from her room, not bothering to get changed, she ran into the bathroom and proceeded to void her stomach into the toilet.

A nervous panic filled her as she clung onto the rim, shuddering as the full weight of her encounter with Batgirl hit her. She was thoroughly and officially fucked. She was going to get arrested and thrown into juvie.

Oh god, what would her mom say when she heard about Steph being a supervillain? It would kill her, or at the very least send her spiralling back into addiction.

Flopping back onto the tiles, Steph stared around the tiny bathroom trying to think of what to do. After a few moments, she crawled to her feet and flushed the toilet, before leaving to head back to her bedroom. First things first, she needed to get out of her costume.

Pulling off her hat and mask, Steph tossed them haphazardly across the room, before tugging off her jacket and gloves. She was halfway through getting undressed when she realised that her hair was still dyed black.

Panicking a little at the thought that her mom might get home from her shift any moment now and find her like this, Stephanie hurried back to the bathroom and jumped into the shower. It took several minutes of scrubbing to clean the hair dye out and for her hair to be restored to its regular blonde shade.

A little more relieved now that her mother wasn’t going to catch her looking like the latest supervillain to hit Gotham. Wrapping herself up in a towel, Steph clambered out, grabbed the discarded remains of her outfit and scurried back into her room.

With the door shut and bolted behind her, Steph let out a small sigh, before dropping the clothes on the floor and collapsing face first onto her bed.

At least she was clean, even if she was still fucked. Rolling over, she stared up at the popcorn ceiling as she wondered just what she could do to fix this, if there even was anything to do. She probably should call Riddler, but a glance over at her clock told her that he was probably still busy on his heist. He would definitely not take well to being interrupted whilst in the middle of cracking the vault.

Groaning, Steph returned to gazing aimlessly upwards, her mind jumping through all the potential possibilities. Worst case scenario, Batgirl ratted her out to Batman, who’d take her defection personally and personally come to both arrest her and out her as a rogue to both her mother and Gotham, before having her tried and sentenced to life in Blackgate alongside her father.

She knew that last part might be a little far-fetched, but she was fairly certain that Batman was the sort to subscribe to the theory of ‘like father, like son’, or some other bullshit like that. He probably wouldn’t be the only one either. If it got out that the daughter of a second-rate criminal ended up as a second-rate criminal herself, they’d probably peg it on him and poor parenting.

She could see the articles now, how criminal parents raised criminal children and all the attendant shit that would come with it. Maybe it would possibly spur the city into doing something about all the poor people who turned to crime to support themselves and their families, but she doubted it. Instead, it would probably be used to demonise them and their kids, make it out to be a moral failing on the part of the parents that they weren’t raising their kids right, rather than an indictment of the wealth gap and poverty that existed in Gotham.

Of course, this was the worst case scenario, but all the other ones she imagined were hardly much better. They all ended up with Batgirl telling either Batman or Oracle, who would then do something terrible to her, no doubt ending up keeping her from ever becoming part of the super community on either side.

Maybe they’d erase her memories and turn her into just another teenage girl who had a shitbag for a father. She was pretty sure Batman would have the resources, being a member of the Justice League and stuff. They had telepaths and magicians. Though if they did that, then maybe there’d be a chance that she ended up trying to be a hero again. Though if she did, it probably would go even worse than the first time.

There were just so many potential outcomes to this, it probably wasn’t doing her any good to keep thinking about what might happen. That said, it didn’t mean she shouldn’t be prepared for the worst of them.

Rolling out of bed, Steph dropped to the floor and pawed around underneath for a bit, until her hand landed on the strap of a bag. Tugging it out, Steph opened it up to look at what she’d stashed inside. She’d had a go bag put together ever since she’d started out as Spoiler, and before that, she’d had just a list of stuff to get together once she’d found out her father was Cluemaster.

She hadn’t updated it since her turn to crime, though, and it was in dire need of it. Inside were a few changes of clothes, as much money as she’d been able to save, plus a few other useful bits and pieces for someone on the run from their abusive father.

She had a few more things to add to it now, so she spent some time flitting around her room, collecting up other things she’d probably need, as well as anything that might lead any pursuers back to the Riddler.

Now that she was working for him, if she did need to flee her home, she should probably go to him first. He was a rogue, and a fairly high profile one at that, with plenty of resources at his disposal. If anyone could help protect her from the bats, it would be someone like him.

Tossing some of her spare gadgets and weapons into the bag, Steph took a short break, rocking back on her haunches as she caught her breath. She really needed to work a bit more on her stamina. It had always been her biggest weakness, even when working as Spoiler. She’d been meaning to work on it for a while, but Riddler had been more concerned with training her mind than her body.

Making a note to get back to her fitness regime as soon as possible if she wasn’t arrested or memory-wiped, Steph returned to packing up her go bag. She finished up by adding a few memory sticks containing a couple of her side projects and zipped up the bag. The only thing that wasn’t inside was her laptop, so she grabbed a sticky note and scrawled a reminder to grab it as well. Attaching the reminder to the bag, Steph was satisfied that she could de-ass the place with a quickness.

It was at that moment that she realised that in her distracted worrying that she was still only wearing a towel.

“Get a fucking grip, Steph.” She grumbled to herself as she rooted around in her drawers for some pyjamas. There was no way she was going to make it on the run if she didn’t notice shit like that. As she rummaged around for some clothing, a chill ran down her spine, and she thought for a moment she felt a light breeze. Someone was in the room with her.

Trying not to let her sudden fear show, Steph continued to rummage around in the drawer for one of the many weapons she’d stashed around her room for just such an occasion. Her hand settled on the handle of the small police baton she’d ‘acquired’ a long time ago, and she gripped it tightly.

“Yaaah!” With a loud warcry, Steph spun around, one hand firmly holding her towel in place as she lashed out with the baton. It didn’t connect, however, as it was neatly pushed aside by a familiar black-clad figure.

“Shit!” Steph yelped, tripping back against the chest of drawers and instinctively swinging the baton again, only for it to be caught and deftly tugged from her hands.

“Don’t.” Batgirl said simply, tossing the weapon aside.

“What are you doing here?” Steph hissed, her eyes darting around the room, trying to assess her options and whether she could make a break for it. “Here to arrest me?”

“No. Don’t run. Won’t make it.”

“Then what are you here for?” Steph snapped, annoyed that she was apparently incredibly easy to read.

“Here to talk.”

“Right…” Blinking a few times as she tried to reorient herself. “Um, if that’s the case, do you mind if I get dressed first?”

“No.” Despite her acceptance of this, Batgirl did not move at all and continued to stand expectantly.

“Would you mind turning around or something?” Steph asked after a few long and awkward seconds.

“Oh.” Batgirl did as was suggested, though it didn’t really reassure Steph all that much. She hated the changing rooms at school. She’d do her best to just hide in a corner and stare at a wall, lest someone accuse her of peeping or try to look too closely at her body.

Grabbing the first set of pyjamas she could lay her hands on, Steph swiftly changed into them and tossed her towel aside. She’d hang it up to dry properly later when she wasn’t playing host to Gotham’s most mysterious protector.

“Okay, I’m decent now.” She announced, after briefly considering trying to take advantage of Batgirl having her back turned and launching a sneak attack. The hero turned back around to face her and Steph found herself more than a little unnerved by the blank mask. True, there was some stitching where the mouth and eyes would be, but that did little to reassure her.

“So… Did you want a snack or a drink?” She asked, falling back on trying to be a polite host.

“Not hungry.” Steph raised an eyebrow at that. She doubted very much that was the case, given what she knew about vigilantes. It took a lot of energy to go running across rooftops and fight crime. There was rarely a time when Steph herself wasn’t starving after a night’s patrol and she didn’t expect Batgirl to be any different.

“If you say so. I, on the other hand, am definitely going to need a drink for this.” Shaking her head, Steph stepped around Batgirl and unbolted her door to head into the kitchen. Batgirl followed a few steps behind her and watched with what Steph assumed was curiosity as she rattled around the kitchen.

“You really sure you don’t want anything?” She asked again as she grabbed a mug from a cupboard. “We’ve got tea, coffee, I think there’s some OJ in the fridge, as well as some general leftovers.”

“... What tea?”

“Um, just some cheap bags from the grocery store.” Steph frowned, grabbing the box down from another cupboard and examining it. “Sorry. You’re probably used to more fancy stuff.”

“Is fine.” Steph smirked a little to herself as she detected just the tiniest of pauses in Batgirl’s words. She’d clearly hit upon something there, and it was satisfying to know that at least one of her inductions about the bats was probably correct.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ to having tea.” Grabbing another mug, Steph dropped the teabags in and set the kettle boiling before turning back to face Batgirl. “Since you’re having a drink, you might as well have something to eat with it. Feel free to have a root around in the fridge.”

“Don’t want to be rude.”

“You’re not. I might as well be a good hostess before I get carted off to the juvie wing of Blackgate.”

“Not happening.” Steph raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as Batgirl wandered over to the fridge and opened it. She watched as Batgirl rooted through the contents of the fridge, before emerging with something that took Steph a few seconds to identify.

“Oh, Batgirl, don’t eat that. Mom must have forgotten to throw it ou-.” She tried to stop the hero but it was too late. She’d already pulled up the bottom of her cowl to expose her mouth and had already stuffed the horrifyingly overripe banana into her mouth.

“Ish gud.” She mumbled around the mushy mess, whilst Steph could only stare in mild horror. It barely registered to her that she was possibly the one person outside the batfamily to actually see Batgirl’s skin, and how it seemed to suggest someone of East Asian descent.

“There’s food in there that isn’t off, you know.” Steph said once the shock had worn off. “You really shouldn’t eat things like that.”

Batgirl simply shrugged and returned to rummaging through the fridge, whilst Steph rolled her eyes and attended to the tea. By the time she was done letting it steep and disposed of the bags, she discovered that Batgirl had somehow not only managed to find every piece of expired food in their fridge, but had eaten it as well.

“You know, whilst I sort of appreciate you helping to clear out all the old stuff, I did mean you could just grab something that isn’t going to give you food poisoning.” Steph said wryly, handing over one of the mugs to Batgirl who took it with a nod of thanks. “You want milk with that?”

“No.” The hero shook her head and proceeded to take a large gulp of the scalding liquid. Steph wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she clearly had an iron stomach. Maybe she was secretly a metahuman. Being able to eat anything was probably a minor enough super power that Batman wouldn’t mind her being part of his cadre of vigilantes.

“So, you said you wanted to talk.” Steph broached the subject, wanting to stay at least a little in control as she leaned back against the counter and blew on her mug of tea. “I’m guessing it’s not going to be a friendly chat about the weather.”

“No.” Again, Batgirl’s response was short and to the point. “Wanted to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Understand why. Why work for Riddler?”

“He pays well.” Steph shrugged. “Hypothetically, of course. I wouldn’t know how much he does pay since I don’t work for him, but hypothetically, I would assume that he’s very generous with his salary.” It was a very poor disguise for her motives, but Steph didn’t put it past any of the bats not to have listening devices all over them to record the confessions of criminals.

“But you were Spoiler. Hated crime. Why be a criminal?” Batgirl tilted her head, and Steph sighed.

“Hypothetically, if I were Spoiler, I might have seen it as an opportunity to get some respect.” Steph said in a careful and measured tone, setting her mug aside. “None of the other bats were particularly kind to Spoiler, never let her in or even trusted her with some of the most basic stuff when all she wanted to do was help and proved time and time again that she was genuine.”

“Not trained.”

“Maybe not, but there was nothing stopping Batman or any of the others from training her.” It felt odd to refer to herself in the third person, but Steph kept it up. “Not to mention how Batman kept using her as pawn in whatever the fuck he was doing with Robin.”

“Confused now. You were Spoiler, not somebody else.”

“Only hypothetically, just like how I’m hypothetically working for the Riddler.” Steph reiterated, not entirely sure if Batgirl was genuinely confused or playing it up to get something more concrete out of her. “Someone who hypothetically trusts me enough to let me in on various plans and doesn’t go sharing all my details around all the other vigilantes without any sort of reciprocity.”

Batgirl didn’t say anything so Steph simply ploughed on. “I mean, how else were you able to know exactly where to come if the great and powerful Oracle didn’t whisper it in your ear? Is she listening in on this, by the way?”

“No.”

“Small mercies.” Steph picked up her mug again and took a sip of the still hot tea. “Though I suppose she doesn’t need to. I expect you’ve already told her and Batman about this hypothetical that I’m working for the Riddler.”

“No, haven’t.” That did surprise Steph quite a bit. Batgirl could be lying, of course, but she didn’t really strike Steph as the sort to do that. “Wanted to talk first.”

“Right, and I suppose now is when you call them in?”

“No. Should, but don’t want to.” An uncomfortable frown crossed Batgirl’s still exposed mouth, and Steph’s eyes were drawn to a scar just above her lip, small but distinctive.

“Well, I’m sure if you do, Batsy and Oracle will be thrilled that you caught the Riddler’s apprentice. Not even the Riddler, but his hypothetical apprentice, who’s only been at it for maybe a month.” A hint of bitterness entered Steph’s voice. Irritation that despite all her hard work, she’d been caught only a month into her tenure, way before she’d been able to show what she could really do. “Another bad guy off the streets.”

“Not bad guy. Or girl.” Batgirl really was full of surprises and Steph simply looked at her appraisingly. “Just struggling. Will talk to Oracle about Spoiler.”

“Woah, hey, I didn’t ask for that.” Steph said quickly. “I’ve made my decision. I don’t need you to appeal to Oracle and go crawling back.” Batgirl didn’t respond, she simply returned Steph’s gaze. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

“No. Won’t tell Batman or Oracle about Teaser.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Sorry, I can’t promise that.”

“Then can’t promise won’t hurt you.”

“I guessed as much.” Steph sighed and shook her head. “I would prefer not to get beaten up and taken to prison, but I guess, if we’re hypothetically on opposite sides, it’s a bit of an inevitability.”

“Will probably see you soon.”

“Nah, Riddler lies low after his jobs. It’ll be a while before you see Teaser again.” Batgirl nodded and finished her tea before pulling her mask back down over her face. “Though I wouldn’t say no to meeting up for drinks like this again.”

“... Will think about it.” Steph hid her grin behind her mug as Batgirl headed over to the kitchen window and opened it up. With a flash of darkness, she vanished out into the night, leaving Steph alone in her kitchen with an empty mug and her thoughts.

Chapter Text

Steph was nervous, very nervous, in fact. It had been a couple of days since the Riddler’s little heist and he’d at last sent her a message requesting she meet with him now that the heat had died down. Since her meeting with Batgirl, Steph had been terrified that she’d go back on her word and rat her out to Batman or Oracle, but so far, she hadn’t had any visits from the big bad bat, so she figured she was in the clear.

What she really was not looking forward to was telling the Riddler about her chat with Batgirl. She was under no illusions that she’d be able to keep it a secret for very long, and if she did try to hide it, she was sure that it would be even worse for her when he did inevitably find out.

Eventually, she decided that she couldn’t put it off any longer. Setting her jaw and taking a deep breath, Steph opened the door and walked into the office. Neither Nina nor Dierdre were on fake receptionist duty today, apparently they were still recovering from their respective run-ins with Robin and Huntress.

The door to the Riddler’s office was open and the man himself was seated behind his desk, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He looked up from the screen as she entered his room and shut the door behind her.

“Miss Brown, it’s good of you to join me.”

“Well, you did ask to see me.” Steph rolled her eyes as she settled into what she’d started to regard as her chair, given how much time she spent sitting in it opposite her boss. “Given you’re here and not in Arkham, I take it your little vault job went well.”

“Not quite as well as I would have liked.” The Riddler frowned, finally pausing in his rapidfire typing. “I made it into the vault, and was in the middle of liberating its contents, when Batman showed up.”

“I thought you were expecting that, though.”

“Not until I’d already made my getaway. He was earlier than I anticipated, and I anticipate everything.”

“Right… That might actually have been my fault.” Steph squirmed nervously in her seat. “So the museum robbery went okay, as I’m sure you saw in the news.”

“I did.”

“Well, I got out okay and was making my way across the roofs when I was found.”

“By whom?” The Riddler steepled his fingers and leaned forwards over his desk. 

“Batgirl.”

“And yet you’re both here and in one piece.”

“I may have not even bothered trying to fight her and just gave her the statue.” Steph shrugged. “I imagine you scheduled more time for me to distract whoever came for me after the break in.”

“I did, but given how you encountered Batgirl, I won’t hold it against you too much. You are far more useful to me unscathed and free.”

“Yeah, I’m rather glad I’m not nursing any broken bones too.” Steph sighed as she geared up for the actual confession. “But that’s not all that happened.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, somehow, she knew it was me.” The Riddler’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses and his brow furrowed.

“Elucidate, please. What exactly do you mean by ‘she knew it was me’.”

“I mean that, through some method that is unknown to me, Batgirl knows that Teaser is Stephanie Brown, formerly Spoiler.” Riddler’s frown deepened and his eyes flickered to the door.

“She knows your secret identity and she still let you go.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you haven’t yet been arrested or been paid a visit by Batman?”

“Not from him.”

“Implying you received a visit from someone else.”

“Yeah, Batgirl caught up with me back at my apartment a few hours later.” Steph continued her confession, rather worried about what the Riddler would do to her. “She wanted to talk.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, she wanted to know why I was working for you, given my previous night job. I don’t think she was entirely satisfied with my reasoning, but she seemed convinced that I’m a good person and said she wouldn’t turn me in to Batman or Oracle.”

“Can you trust her word on that, though?” The Riddler did not look particularly reassured about the whole situation. “It seems to me that she holds all the cards in this situation.

“Not really.” Steph shrugged unhelpfully. “But if she was going to turn me in, I’m pretty sure she would have done so immediately.”

“Unless she and the bat have decided to leave you free to further incriminate yourself and me. They might have tailed you here to arrest me!” The Riddler’s eyes went wide and he went back to typing frantically. “Did you not even think of that? How could you be so careless not to even message me about this?”

“Because I believe her.” Steph said, not sure what else she could say to reassure her boss that they weren’t about to get beaten up by Batman.

“Sure, and your belief is so concrete, why would I need anything else?” The Riddler continued to scowl as he typed with one hand, the other opening up one of his desk drawers and pulling out a large drill.

“I believe her because she’s just an awkward teenager who ate all the expired trash in my fridge. Who actually bothered to listen to me and find out why I threw my lot in with you. Who agreed to get drinks with me another time.” This did give the Riddler pause and he stopped his typing to look at her.

“She what?”

“Well, she didn’t exactly agree, I just told her that I wouldn’t mind meeting up with her for drinks again, and she said she’d think about it.” The Riddler was now looking at her curiously, his brow furrowing in a familiar way that indicated to Steph that he was thinking very hard about something.

“You asked to meet her again for drinks? ”

“Well, yeah, she was good company, even though she does seem to have no sense of taste. The girl ate mouldy cheese, for god’s sake.” The Riddler had calmed down quite considerably by now, and was now drumming his fingers on his desk thoughtfully.

“I will admit, this sort of behaviour seems a little risky for someone trying to execute any kind of subterfuge.” The Riddler hummed in thought. “Do you think that she’ll accept your offer?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure.” Steph shrugged again. She wasn’t sure she liked the way he was looking at her, like he was planning something devious involving her.

“If she does, I suggest that you do your best to cultivate your relationship with her.” A small smile crossed his face that really did not make Steph feel good at all.

“Okay?”

“You already have her treating you more leniently. She knows your identity, but she’s not turning you in or exploiting your connection to me. Just think what you could do if you were to get her even more on your side.”

Steph frowned a little as she realised what the Riddler was getting at, and she was reminded of Selina’s advice to her. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to go that route, even if Batgirl was really pretty, from what little Steph had seen of her face.

“I’m not so sure…”

“Miss Brown, I feel it is time for me to impart an important lesson to you.” The Riddler sighed, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “You’re smart, but not brilliant, not on Batman’s level, and certainly not on mine.”

“What.”

“Given this disadvantage of yours, it really would be in your best interests to leverage whatever advantages present themselves to you.” Riddler ploughed on, ignoring Steph’s anger.

“If I’m not brilliant, like you say I am, then why have you been bothering to train me?!” Steph snapped, enraged by the insult.

“Allow me to clarify, you’re not brilliant yet .” He said, sounding completely unapologetic. “And with this current situation, I fear that I may not have the time to train you to reach that level.”

“So you’re saying that, because I’m an idiot who can’t keep up with you, I need to seduce Batgirl to keep one step ahead of the game? Is that it?”

“Well, I never said you should seduce her, but the tactic has worked out rather well for Selina for the last few years, and intellectually, she is far far beneath the likes of us.” Steph could not believe what she was hearing, and it took her a few tries to find her voice.

“Are you trying for the Asshole of the Year award or something?” She asked, still trying to fathom the depths of her boss’ insensitivity and all around dickishness. “Because at the rate you’re going, you’re pretty much a shoe-in.” The Riddler opened his mouth, no doubt to continue insulting Steph and everyone else, but she cut him off. “I’m going out to get lunch, and I might be back later, depending on whether you can be polite.”

Not waiting for an answer, Steph got up and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her. The Riddler didn’t come after her as she stomped down the stairs and out into the bright summer sun, which suited Steph just fine.

She had no idea what had gotten into him. Sure, he could be abrasive, but he’d never been quite so actively prickish before. Stuffing her hands in her pockets and muttering a variety of creative insults at her boss, Steph made her way down the street in search of food.

It was still a little early to be having lunch, but Steph really needed the space right now. She’d been pissed off before, mostly at Batman and his obstinacy, but this was the first time she’d been truly enraged by the Riddler. As irksome as he could be, he’d merely been annoying before, and that was something she could tolerate.

For once, she’d felt as though she was actually valued for her own smarts and abilities. He’d said he wanted to cultivate those too, and it was like a kick in the teeth to say that she wasn’t nearly smart enough and had to get by on manipulation and her rather unique relationship to the heroes of Gotham.

Scowling, Steph kicked a discarded can along the sidewalk in an attempt to vent some of her frustration. The metal bounced pretty far, but it did little to alleviate Steph’s dark mood. She needed something greasy and hideously unhealthy to take her mind off things. There was a park not too far away, probably with some guy selling hotdogs there.

Her mind made up, Steph turned on her heel and casually waltzed across the street, flipping off a driver who was going way too fast for a city like Gotham, even in the middle of the day. Dodging past the random pedestrians out doing whatever it was people did in the middle of the day instead of working, Steph entered the park and wandered down the path in search of her hotdogs.

Her quest was remarkably fast. Only a few hundred yards into the park, she caught the mouth-watering scent that led her to a vendor. Handing over a few crumpled bills, Steph left with two dogs and found a bench to sit down on and chow down.

It was a surprisingly nice day, though she doubted it would hold out for very long, Gotham always seemed to be trapped in a state of perpetually poor weather. It was a fairly popular theory among the more conspiracy and paranormal leaning inhabitants that there was something just plain wrong with reality around Gotham. It certainly didn’t help that Arkham shared a name with one of a certain author’s favoured locations.

Polishing off her early lunch in short order, Steph sat back and let her mind wander. This ended up being not such a great idea, as it inevitably ended up moving back to the Riddler and his insults. The sheer gall of the man, she was sorely tempted to tell him he could go shove his apprenticeship right up his ass.

Of course, if she did that, she wouldn’t be able to stick it to him. It did occur to her that this might have been the Riddler’s plan all along, in some deranged attempt to motivate her, but she figured it was unlikely. His words had smacked of an insensitive dick, not someone trying to motivate you in a roundabout way.

That did leave her with the conundrum of how exactly she would show him that she was plenty smart enough to stand against the bats without exploiting her friendship with Batgirl. The only thing that sprang to mind immediately was her side project tracking heroes through social media.

Progress on that had stalled a little bit, what with the heist and her ongoing issues with fanart. She still hadn’t come up with an adequate method of filtering those results out. She’d already gotten pretty damn lucky with how poorly secured and thought out some of the social networks she was scraping for data. Really, whoever had coded it deserved to be fired for the poor job they’d done, they hadn’t even bothered to even try to scrub the metadata from uploads.

She’d tried scouring tags, blacklisting certain users and a few other things, all of which had ended up being good, but not good enough. Not even a combination of her various methods had worked. It really did seem as though the only reliable way to check whether an upload was genuine or not was to check it manually, but that would just defeat the purpose of the program in the first place.

Unless, of course, she could automate that process.

Steph sat up straight as the thought occurred to her. How could she have been so stupid? She could automate the process, all she needed was a neural network that could analyse visual data, and that was it. Sure, it wouldn’t be foolproof, but it would probably be a hell of a lot better than any of her other methods.

She could definitely do this. Once she had her network running, she could very easily train it. All of her previous efforts to filter out irrelevant data had left her with quite a good training database. Of course, that did leave the question of what else she could do with this hero tracking program. Sure, it was a neat novelty that would help her avoid vigilante activity, but any applications beyond that weren’t forthcoming.

Her brief moment of elation at having finally cracked her problem faded as she realised, if she was really going to show up Riddler and prove to him that she was more than capable of standing against him intellectually, she needed more than just a cute novelty program.

Sighing deeply, Steph leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees. She frowned as she watched the people passing by, wondering just how she could further her work. Nothing came to mind so she spent a while just people-watching.

As she watched, she idly wondered what they were doing in their lives, why they were walking through the park at this time everyday. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, Steph was struck by inspiration.

If she could use her program to track the current location of the vigilantes, then there was no reason why she couldn’t use it to develop an understanding of their schedules, their patrol routes. Once she knew that, then the whole city could be at her fingertips, or at least it would start to be.

If she knew where a bat would be, she’d know how long it would take them to get to anywhere else in the city. All she’d have to do was some experiments, set off a few emergencies for them to respond to and see how long it took for them to arrive, that sort of thing.

If she knew that, well, it would be a start at least to becoming a force to be reckoned with. She had few doubts that Oracle had control of a lot, if not all, of the cameras in Gotham. That was the sort of information network that she had no way of competing with.

What she could do, however, was make her own. Oracle was only human, she had to have limitations to how much she could see, but Steph didn’t need to be limited like that. Not if she could get this tracking system working and tap into the single largest source of information in Gotham, its people.

Her mind set, Steph stood up from the bench and started back towards the office. She had a lot of work to do and a boss to tell off before she headed back home to work on her code. Something the Riddler had impressed upon her was the power of knowledge, so she was going to get it. It was the only way she’d get by without having to rely on the mercy of others.

Chapter Text

When Steph returned from her lunch, she’d refused to talk to her boss, even when he’d emerged from his office a couple of hours after she’d gotten back and mumbled something that sounded like a very reluctant and half-hearted apology. It had done little to soothe Steph’s bruised pride, though, and she’d barely even acknowledged the man’s presence. He thrived on attention, so she was cutting him off from it for a little while.

She’d instead spent the afternoon working feverishly on her neural net and bringing her latest idea to fruition. Now that she knew what she was doing to properly filter through the glut of data Gothamites put online, it was a relative breeze.

If anything, a good chunk of her time had been spent assembling her training data from all the images she’d scraped rather than actually getting any code written. She wanted it to be a good and comprehensive training set, lest she fall into the trap of accidentally turning her brilliant idea into an automated bias machine.

Eventually, she’d called it a day and headed out, leaving with only a terse goodbye to the Riddler, who was busy in his office doing something that she didn’t care to ask about. The journey home was uneventful, but when she got back home, she was met with something of a surprise, her mom was there and she wasn’t alone.

“Hi, Mom. I wasn’t expecting to see you until later.” She commented as she closed the door behind her, eyeing up her mother’s companion. Steph didn’t recognise her, but she was able to pick out a few things from the older woman’s appearance.

She was fairly well-dressed, but the clothes themselves weren’t expensive, and they looked like they’d seen a lot of use. There was a certain way the woman looked at her as well, similar to how the Riddler did, like she wasn’t the only one doing some analysis. All in all, and knowing who her mother would associate with, Steph could only come to the conclusion that whoever this woman was, she worked at the hospital, most likely one of the doctors, though a member of administration wasn’t too far-fetched.

“I traded shifts with Robert, his cat’s sick and he needed to take her to see the vet, poor thing.” Her mom explained, getting up from the kitchen table and pulling Steph into a hug.

“Aww, I hope she’s going to be okay.” Steph commiserated, returning the hug before pulling back and glancing over at the visitor again. “And this is…?”

“Oh sorry, sweetie, I never introduced you. This is Dr Thompkins. She runs the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic nearby.” Dr Thompkins got up from the table as well and extended a hand to Steph, who took it whilst mentally cataloguing the information.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Stephanie. Yyour mother’s told me so much about you.” Her words were slightly clipped and spoke of someone who was accustomed to both being listened to and being economical with her words. Her accent was interesting to Steph too. Really, all accents were interesting to her. It sounded like someone who had deliberately tried to shed their old accent for a more neutral one, but Steph could still hear the harsh edges that characterised a Gotham accent.

“Has she? Mom just said that you worked at a clinic, not West Mercy.”

“I do. I know your mother from helping her through a… difficult time in her life.” There was a stiltedness to Dr Thompkins’ words, like she was unused to such niceties as sugarcoating the truth.

“You mean the drugs?” Steph asked bluntly. As much as she loved her mom, she wasn’t about to beat around the bush when it came to her past addiction issues.

“Yes, I do.” Dr Thompkins seemed nonplussed for a moment, but recovered quickly. “I run a rehabilitation program at the clinic. Your mother and I kept in touch after she finished, and she sometimes sends patients to the clinic when they can’t afford treatment.”

“So pretty much everyone, then?” Steph asked wryly, all too aware of the abysmal state of healthcare in Gotham. Pretty much the only people who had any good health insurance worked for WayneTech.

“Not entirely incorrect.” Dr Thompkins admitted with a grim frown.

“Let’s not talk about things like that.” Steph’s mom said, guiding Steph to sit down at the table. “Coffee, sweetie?”

“Thank, mom.” Whilst she poured a fresh mug, Dr Thompkins sat back down across from Steph and took a sip from her own mug.

“So how’s work been, Steph sweetie?” Her mom asked when she returned to the table with the fresh coffee and sat down as well.

“Not bad. I’ve just been having a bit of difficulty with my boss.” Steph said, mostly truthfully as she wrapped her hands around the mug. It wasn’t as though she was cold or anything, it was the middle of summer, after all, but she’d never say no to the warmth of a hot drink.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Her mom reached out to pat her wrist in commiseration. “I know all about that.”

“What’s this about a job? Aren’t you too young?”

“I’m sixteen, and it’s not really a job, more of an internship.” That much was true, or at least all the contracts and paperwork said it was. “It’s just for the summer.”

“I see.”

“It’s not much, and my boss was just a pain today.” Steph wished she could properly vent about her frustrations with the Riddler to someone, but there just wasn’t anyone who’d understand. It wasn’t as though there was a group of supervillain kids and sidekicks who’d get together and bitch about their parents and mentors. The idea was pretty much laughable, like an Anti-Teen Titans or something.

“I’m sure it will all turn out okay.” Her mom reassured her, giving her arm a squeeze. “Maybe he was just having a bad day.”

“Maybe…” Steph highly doubted that was the case, but it wasn’t as though she could tell her mother that her boss was a criminally insane egomaniac. “Mr Nashton can be rather difficult sometimes.”

“We’ve all had bad bosses in the past. It’s a fact of life, I’m afraid.” Dr Thompkins told Steph as she finished off her coffee and got up from the table. “I really need to get going. The clinic’s not going to run itself.”

“You take care now, Leslie.” Steph’s mom gave the doctor a hug that was very awkwardly returned.

“You too, Crystal. It’s good to see that you’re doing well.” Dr Thompkins said stiffly, retreating out of Steph’s mom’s reach once she was released from the hug. “It was nice to meet you in person, Stephanie.”

“Yeah.” Steph waved goodbye to Dr Thompkins, who grabbed a coat from the hooks from beside the door and left the apartment. “She was… nice.”

“Leslie’s not the most personable, but she’s a good doctor, and running the clinic is no easy matter.”

“I suppose not.” She wasn’t sure if it was just because she was generally a lot more paranoid now that she was a supervillain, but there was something a little off about Dr Thompkins. Deciding she was just overreacting to the doctor’s stiff demeanour, Steph pushed her concerns to one side.

“You know, sweetie, it’s been weeks since we’ve been able to have a nice chat.” Her mom said offhandedly as she sat back down and drank some of her own coffee. “I suppose we have both been busy with work, but I have missed seeing you around.”

Steph smiled wanly and nodded. Truth be told, she’d actually been avoiding her mom deliberately. She’d been terrified that she’d accidentally let something slip about her what she was doing. In fact, right now, she was finding it difficult to even meet her mother’s eyes. Guilt thrummed inside her, and she masked it by hiding her face behind her mug.

“So, what has your Mr. Nashton got you doing, then?” Her mom asked, completely oblivious to Steph’s mounting stress.

“Oh, you know, bits and pieces. Just usual intern stuff.”

“Oh, come on, Stephie, Surely you must be doing something interesting and useful.” Her mom coaxed. “You made this internship out to be something big and worth doing. Please don’t tell me you’ve just been making coffee for the bosses.”

“No, nothing like that.” Steph denied as she tried to come up with a plausible lie about what her job involved. “He’s got me working with the development team, creating new products and stuff.”

“That does sound interesting, anything you can tell me about?”

“Sorry, mom, I’ve got a lot of NDAs about the projects I’m working on.”

“A toy company is that secretive about their work?” Steph’s mom raised her eyebrows.

“It’s big business. You’d be surprised how much money is in toys and puzzles.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, just general knowledge about the industry she was working in on paper. “I can say I’ve also been working on expanding into digital spaces, Mr Nashton sees it as the next big area of growth for the company.”

“Well that’s wonderful, Stephie, on the cutting edge of development. I’m so proud of you!” The guilt in Steph’s stomach roiled and twisted up her insides. No matter how much she said that this was for her mom and to help support her, she still couldn’t shake the knowledge that she was still committing crimes to do it.

“Thanks, mom.” Steph swallowed down the last of her coffee, ignoring how it scalded her throat on the way down. “I’m gonna go crash in my room for a bit, decompress and stuff.”

“Sure, sweetie.” Before Steph could get up and escape her mother’s well-meaning comments, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you.”

“Love you too, mom.” Steph tried to keep her tone light as she got up, dumped her mug in the sink and retreated to her room. Shutting and bolting the door behind her, Steph leaned back against it, before slowly sliding down it and groaning to herself.

She had to be the worst daughter ever. How could she have even considered doing this to her mom? She’d said she was proud of her. Proud of her daughter, the aspiring supervillain. All of her earlier fire about proving the Riddler wrong and being able to stand on her own had gone. Really, she should just call the whole thing off. It had been a stupid idea to begin with.

Except she couldn’t just back out. She was in too deep now. Really, the moment she’d signed that contract, she’d gotten in too deep. The only way to go was forward, and if she was going to go forward, she may as well go barrelling forward and make the best of it.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” She said to herself, getting her feet under herself. “If I’m going to hell, why not rule it?” She knew she was sort of lying herself, but whatever she could do to get her through this god awful situation.

It really would have helped if she had someone to talk to about all this stuff, her frustrations with the Riddler and how shitty of a daughter she was. She considered sending Selina a message, but she dismissed it after some thought. Any complaints she had about Riddler were linked to his inability to see her as competent, and how he felt she needed an in like Selina had. Selina would probably have a few words with Riddler about that.

Pulling out the phone she used for her less than legal contacts, Steph flipped through the sparse contact list. She didn’t actually have Dierdre or Nina’s numbers, something she should probably remedy at some point, which wasn’t all that helpful, since as the Riddler’s closest associates, they knew exactly what it was like to have to deal with their jerk of a boss.

Her thumb stopped at the top of the short list, resting on Harley’s number. Maybe she’d be able to help. She was a psychiatrist, after all. That had to count for something. Taking a breath, Steph jammed the call button before she lost her nerve and decided to stick to her prior plans to just keep soldiering on on her own.

The phone rang several times, each one raising her anxiety, until Harley finally picked up.

“You got Harley, who is it?” She sang out, and Steph sighed as she’d forgotten how grating she found that accent Harley put on.

“Hi, Harley, it’s Teaser.”

“Teasey! How ya doin’?” Harley sounded genuinely happy to hear from her, which was a little surprising. She’d actually expected Harley to have forgotten about her, they’d only met once and it had been so brief. Clearly needed to revise her opinion of Harley.

“Not bad, I think?”

“If ya gotta think about it, then you’re not ‘not bad’.” There was some definite rethinking she needed to do when it came to Harley. “And you musta called for some reason, though it would be nice if this was a social call.”

“No, it’s not, you’re right about that.” Steph sighed deeply. “I’ve just been having some issues with Riddler and just being a rogue in the first place.”

“And ya needed someone to talk to?”

“Pretty much.” Another guilty stab twisted in her heart. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you.”

“It’s fine, Teasey. If you wanna vent, I can listen.”

“I just… Riddler seems to think that I don’t have what it takes to go up against the bats, he thinks I’m not smart enough to do it and he thinks I should be like Selina and seduce Batgirl or something and use that to my advantage, and so I wanted to prove him wrong, but then I talked to my mom just now and I realised just how shitty of a daughter I am. I mean, she already went through all this shit with my douchebag of a father, and now I might put her through the same thing if I get caught, which is getting more and more likely, and-.”

“Okay, slow down there, Teasey. Just take a coupla deep breaths and try to calm down.” Harley interrupted Steph’s stream of consciousness firmly. Steph did as she was told, obeying mostly out of instinct. “Ya feeling any better, Teasey?”

“Yes. Thanks, Harley.”

“Hey, it’s nothing.” Harley pshawed, sounding almost embarrassed. “I’m just glad I could help a lil bit.” Steph collapsed back onto her bed, her thoughts were still whirling around her head as Harley continued. “That said, I hate to tell ya, Teasey, but I don’t think I’m the right person to help ya out with all that crap you got going on in that head of yours.”

“What?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been a therapist, and it sounds to me that what you really need is a friend, and I don’t think I’m the sort of person you want as a friend to vent to.”

“I don’t exactly have many people I can talk to about this, Harley. It’s not like I can tell my school friends that I’m working for a supervillain and whether or not that makes me a shitty person. I don’t even have any school friends.”

“I’m sorry, Teasey, that sucks, and I am here for ya. I just don’t think I’m really the sorta person you wanna be friends with and talk to about this sorta shit.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Teasey, I’m pretty much twice your age. You ever need an ear or advice on rogue stuff, Red and I are ya gals, but this is personal shit.”

“I see. Thanks anyway, Harley.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be much help to ya.” Harley said sympathetically before Steph hung up. Groaning loudly, Steph let her phone fall from her grip. As much as she appreciated Harley for letting her vent just then, it didn’t help her actually work through the issues she was still dealing with and trying to wrap her head around.

Harley seemed to think that she needed someone her age to talk to about this, someone to be a friend, only there wasn’t really anyone her age who knew about her secret identity. Nobody except Batgirl, that is. But talking to her about her woes would be ridiculous, though she had expressed an interest in talking over drinks sometime.

Maybe it wasn’t such a dumb idea after all…

Chapter Text

It took Steph a couple of days to work out the best way to get in contact with Batgirl to invite her out for drinks. She’d toyed with the idea of breaking into the Batfamily comms to talk to her directly, but she’d decided, after a little thought, that the idea was dumb and would make her more problems than it would solve, assuming she could even hack it in the first place.

In the end, she decided that just hanging out on her rooftop would probably be good enough. She fully expected that Batgirl would still be keeping an eye on her, making sure that she wasn’t up to anything supervillainous.

Once her mom had left for work and been gone long enough that she wouldn’t suddenly return because she’d forgotten something, Steph clambered out of her window and onto the fire escape. It didn’t take too long for her to get up to the roof. Once up there, she sighed, stuffed her hands in her pockets and waited.

Rocking back and forth on her heels, Steph started to reconsider her decision to talk to Batgirl and try to befriend her. As far as she knew, she and the mysterious vigilante had pretty much nothing in common, aside from the fact that they both knew who Teaser really was.

It wasn’t really the sort of thing you built a friendship upon, but then again, it wasn’t as though Steph was lousy with choices for friends. She did like Batgirl plenty, but it didn’t change the fact that they were technically on opposite sides now, and that Steph had pretty much no other options for friends.

Sighing deeply, Steph wandered to a nearby air conditioning unit and leaned up against it. Maybe this wasn’t the most effective way to get in contact with Batgirl. Perhaps the hacking idea hadn’t been quite so dumb and infeasible.

Just as she was about to abandon her wait, there was a tap on Steph’s shoulder that made her jump nearly a foot in air and lash out blindly with a right hook. If it had been any normal person, they would probably have been laid out by the punch, but as it was, Steph’s fist hit nothing but air as Batgirl barely even moved to avoid it.

“Batgirl!” Steph heaved a deep sigh and shook her head, straightening herself out and trying to pretend that she hadn’t just allowed herself to be snuck up upon. “Can’t you just say hello?”

“Why are you here?” Batgirl asked, tilting her head to the side and completely ignoring Steph’s indignation. “Planning crime?”

“Do you really think I’d be out here in my civvies if I was plotting some kind of heist?” Steph asked sarcastically, though her sardonic tone seemed to go right over Batgirl’s head. “Or that I’d tell you if I was?” Batgirl remained silent and Steph let out a small sigh. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to invite you out to get drinks.” Steph said, trying to hide her embarrassment at having to be so forward. If she didn’t know any better, she might think that she was asking Batgirl out on a date. “Like I mentioned last time we met.”

“Oh.” Batgirl tilted her head to the other side, contemplating Steph curiously with her unreadable mask.

“You said you’d think about it.” Steph reminded her, hoping to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

“Did.” Batgirl confirmed with a nod. “Will go.”

“Oh, great!” Steph grinned in relief as her offer was accepted. “Um, there’s a diner that’s open all night that I’ve been to a couple of times, and they were pretty good.”

“... Okay.” Still smiling, Steph led the way back to the fire escape and began climbing down, bypassing her window in favour of heading directly down to the alley behind her building and out onto the street.

She didn’t need to look behind her to know that Batgirl wasn’t with her, no doubt she was sticking to the rooftops until they got to the diner. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Steph trudged along the street, smirking to herself as she thought about the young woman flitting above her.

Steph arrived at the diner a few minutes later, and as she pushed the door open, she heard the faint rustle of a cape and the brush of wind as Batgirl dropped down beside her. The diner was pretty much completely empty as they entered, though there were some people sitting at the counter who glanced up as the bell rang.

They gave them both looks of shock and confusion, the blonde girl-next-door in her ratty thrift store clothes with Batgirl hovering behind her. The waitress behind the counter took it in her stride though and walked out to greet them.

“Hey, you two want a booth?”

“Please.” Steph gave the woman a smile and followed her over to one of the booths tucked in the corner. Somehow, Batgirl managed to slip past her and slide into the booth so that she was facing the door. Shrugging, Steph sat down opposite her and took the menus the waitress handed over to them.

“I’ll be back in a sec to get your orders.” She told them before striding away and leaving them to their own devices. A couple of the people were still watching them, but most of them had lost interest by now and gone back to their food and drink.

“I’m paying, so get whatever you want.” Steph told Batgirl, perusing the menu. She was particularly interested in their selection of milkshakes. It had been a while since she’d had a good one, and they had quite a wide selection. After looking through the list, Steph settled on a promising-sounding strawberry cheesecake milkshake and set her menu down.

“You decided what you want yet?” She asked Batgirl before noticing that the menu she’d been handed lay undisturbed on the table. “If you’re worried about benefiting from the proceeds of my less… legitimate income sources, my allowance more than covers a couple of drinks.”

“Not that.” Batgirl looked away, and Steph got the distinct impression that if she could see the heroine’s cheeks, she’d be blushing deeply.

“What’s wrong then?”

“... Can’t read.” It took a few moments for this admission to sink in for Steph, but when it did, she winced in shame.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She mumbled, looking away and out of the window. A few things fell into place for her regarding her understanding of Batgirl. Her illiteracy had never come up before now, they hadn’t worked together on anything that had required reading, and it wasn’t really the sort of thing you brought up in casual conversation.

“Is okay.” Batgirl’s words did little to reassure Steph that she hadn’t just embarrassed her terribly. It was a bit of a reach, but Batgirl being unable to read might also explain why she seemed to have trouble speaking. Steph had definitely noticed that, along with Batgirl’s lack of a discernible accent. It wasn’t too much of a reach to assume that they were linked, and it only raised more questions about Gotham’s most enigmatic protector.

“I can read out what’s on the menu, if you’d like?” Steph suggested, hoping that she wasn’t being offensive by suggesting that. “Or find you something if you tell me what you like.”

“Second one.” Steph nodded and looked over the menu again. “Like chocolate chip cookies.”

“They have chocolate milkshakes.” Steph was relieved that Batgirl seemed to have an easily pleased palate, though given that she was able to stomach the expired food in Steph’s fridge, that wasn’t too surprising. “Do you like milkshakes?”

“Haven’t tried.”

“Then you are definitely trying one of these.” Steph declared, setting the menu down again. “Apparently they use real ice cream for their milkshakes here and not just flavoured milk stuff.”

“Okay?” Batgirl tilted her head curiously, something that Steph was fast finding rather charming and adorable.

“Yeah, trust me. You’ll love it.” Steph assured her as the waitress returned with a small notebook. “Hi, can we get a chocolate milkshake and a strawberry cheesecake milkshake, please?”

“Sure, no problem.” The waitress smiled at them and jotted it down. “I’ll have those out for you in a jiffy.”

“Thanks.” Steph smiled at the waitress as she left before returning her attention to Batgirl, who was now watching her intently. “Hmmmm?”

“Wanted to talk?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Steph sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. “Firstly, thanks for agreeing to talk and get drinks with me. I didn’t have anyone else I could ask.”

“Why?”

“Because no one else knows about my hypothetical other job, and that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Okay?” Batgirl’s mask shifted around her mouth, giving Steph the impression that she was frowning in confusion. “Talk about what?” That question brought Steph to a screeching halt. She hadn’t quite thought that far ahead with this and it was only just occurring to her that a big part of her irritation with the Riddler was what he thought she should do with Batgirl.

“I’m… unappreciated by my boss.” Was what she finally settled upon. “He doesn’t seem to think I have what it takes to be successful in this line of work.”

“You don’t.” Batgirl’s blunt words did not help Steph’s mood or optimism all that much. “Not a villain.”

“It’s more than just my ability to be a terrible person.” Steph protested indignantly. “He just thinks that I’m not smart enough or whatever to handle you or the others.” She lowered her voice a little for the last part, just in case any of the other patrons felt like eavesdropping.

“You aren’t,” Again, Batgirl very simply and succinctly. “Not enough training. Don’t have equipment or Oracle.”

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine.” Steph grumbled, not entirely sure how she’d expected this to go. It was in Batgirl’s best interests to keep her from pursuing a career as a villain’s sidekick after all. “Pretty much all my life I’ve been told I’m not good enough for some reason or another. Either I’m the white trash daughter of a drug addict and a knock-off Riddler, a C-list vigilante who’s going to get herself killed, or now the incompetent assistant to a puzzle-obsessed egomaniac, and quite frankly, I’m sick of it!”

Collapsing back against the bench and breathing hard, Steph tried to collect herself. She’d surprised even herself with that outburst, the simmering rage that had been bubbling beneath finally finding something of an outlet.

“I know I’m not the best at what I do, but I know I am good enough, and I shouldn’t have to keep proving it to people again and again. Would it kill people to just have a little faith in me for once?”

“Sorry.” Batgirl might have said something else, but she was unable to as the waitress returned with their milkshakes.

“Here you go, enjoy!” She instructed, placing the drinks down and leaving them be. Taking hers, Steph stirred up the thick pink liquid with the straw before taking a long sip. It was very good, maybe not the platonic ideal of a milkshake, but certainly one of the better ones she’d had.

“It’s not your fault.” Steph told Batgirl once she’d finished sampling her milkshake, even though it was in a way since Batgirl had also just been putting her down as well. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you.”

“Said wanted to talk, so talk.” Batgirl shrugged, regarding her chocolate milkshake curiously.

“Try the milkshake first, it’s good.” Steph gestured at the heroine, who warily took the straw and pulled the tall glass towards herself. She continued to regard the drink before she pulled something out of her belt and sprinkled some powder in.

“What’s that?”

“Testing for common poison.” Batgirl explained as though it were obvious, before nodding and fiddling around with the lower half of her cowl. Steph doubted that any poison would trouble Batgirl after what she’d seen her eat, but she humoured her as she exposed the lower part of her face and took the straw in her mouth.

Steph smirked at Batgirl as she took a drink of her milkshake, and it grew wider as Batgirl’s posture stiffened. All caution thrown to the wind, Batgirl began noisily slurping up her drink, not even seeming to pause for breath as she did so.

Watching in amusement, Steph continued to drink her own milkshake, rather pleased that she’d been able to introduce Batgirl to what was probably her new favourite drink. Steph wasn’t even halfway done when Batgirl had completely drained her glass and set it down with a very satisfied grin.

Batgirl looked positively adorable and radiant when she smiled, and Steph counted herself lucky that she was one of the very few people in the world who had seen her smile.

“You like it?”

“Very much.” Batgirl answered, sounding a little disappointed now. Feeling a little sorry for her, Steph pushed the remains of her milkshake over to Batgirl, who took it eagerly. Within seconds, she’d polished off Steph’s milkshake and gave her a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Do you want another?”

“No. Was enough.” Batgirl said with a shake of her head. “Now, talk.”

“Not really sure what else there is to say. I’m frustrated that nobody seems to think I’m good enough, and even if I do prove myself and people start to take me seriously, I’m still an awful daughter.”

“How?” Batgirl tilted her head, her mouth twisting into a frown.

“My mom went through hell with my douchebag of a father. When he got arrested and his name got out, she was hounded by the press, we both were.” Steph looked down at the table, recalling the few weeks leading up to her father’s trial and the hell the constant media attention had brought. “There was just so much talk about how I came from a broken home, how my mom was indicative of women being attracted to bad men. She won’t admit it, but I think it’s the stress from all the coverage, as well as what my dad did, that drove her to start popping pills.”

Steph had never told anyone about this before, not even Robin, who she was supposed to be dating. There was something about Batgirl that just made her so easy to talk to. She felt something of a pang of guilt though that she was unloading all of this onto Batgirl, who definitely had not signed up for being her impromptu therapist.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have just unloaded on you like that.” She apologised, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser and started tearing it up into strips to give herself something to do.

“Don’t be sorry.” Batgirl told her, continuing to frown. “Not awful. Good person.”

“You keep saying that, but you have no evidence to the contrary.”

“Can see it.” Batgirl insisted, leaning forward. “See everything about you.”

“That can’t be true.”

“See care about mother, see want to prove self.” Batgirl said insistently, reaching out and taking the shredded napkin from Steph. “See anxiety and sadness and anger. But not awful.”

“If you say so…” Steph mumbled, secretly rather pleased by the praise Batgirl was giving her, especially after her earlier discouragement. “I should probably let you get going, you’re technically out on patrol, aren’t you?”

Batgirl nodded, and the two girls got out of the booth. Steph handed over a few crumpled bills to the waitress and told her to keep the change before following Batgirl out of the diner.

“Thanks for agreeing to do this with me.” Steph said to her companion with a small smile. “I’d, um, like it if we could do this again sometime.”

“... Yes. Was fun.” Batgirl answered after a little thought. “Want to try more milkshake.”

“Great! Good!” Steph was a little surprised that Batgirl was actually willing to do this with her again, but she wasn’t going to question it. “I guess if we’re out having milkshakes and stuff, I’m not out there causing mischief.”

“True.” Batgirl had pulled her cowl back down over her face by now, but Steph could just tell that she was smiling behind it.

“I’ll let you get back your patrol, then.” Steph said, stepping back to allow Batgirl to grapple away. Pulling out her grappling hook, Batgirl aimed it up at a nearby roof, before looking back to Steph.

“Don’t need to prove self. Are more than good enough. Others just don’t see.” With those as her parting words, Batgirl zipped off into the night, leaving Steph to start back home on her own.

Stuffing her hands back in her pockets, Steph began the walk home. It was actually really reassuring and buoying to know that Batgirl believed in her. For all her statements that Steph had no training and lacked the support of the others, she knew that she was telling the truth about her being good enough. Even if nobody else believed in her, she had Batgirl on her side in that regard.

Now all she needed to do was prove it to the rest of the world, and she had a good idea of what to do next. Batgirl had made an excellent point about her not having the equipment the Bats had, and it was time for her to rectify that.

Chapter Text

The next day at work, Steph paid barely any attention to the Riddler as she spent most of her time continuing to build up her training data, plotting out her move this evening and combing social media to see if there was any mention of her and Batgirl’s little outing to the diner.

As far as she could tell, it hadn’t hit any of the major online outlets for superhero news. She’d trawled through all of the Batgirl tags, but there’d been no mention of her out at a diner, the only thing from last night had been how Batgirl had saved a couple from a mugging and stopped a couple of convenience store robberies.

It had been a slow night evidently, no activity from any of the big supervillains or even some of the B-listers. The biggest thing on the supercrime front was Kiteman, who had barely even taken off before being taken down by Robin.

Satisfied that she had managed to remain out of the news, Steph turned her attention to her project. It seemed that her boss was still giving her some space after her anger with him, which she appreciated. It wasn’t the most orthodox employer-employee relationship, but there really wasn’t anything normal about what Steph was doing.

After about an hour of work, Steph finally decided that her training set was good enough to run through the neural net. With a few keystrokes, she set it going and set her laptop aside, ready to enact her next plan.

“I’m going out, I’ve got some stuff to do.” She announced to the Riddler, who looked up from whatever it was he’d been working on and raised an eyebrow.

“Be back before the end of the day, I’ve been letting you slack off in your training, and it’s going to start again in earnest tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’ll be back.” Steph rolled her eyes as she got up and grabbed her bag. She waved goodbye to Nina, who was lazing around at the secretary desk before she left, and headed downstairs and out of the building. Her latest plan was a little impromptu, but she had been rather inspired by Batgirl’s words last night.

The Batfamily really did have all the fanciest toys, and when she’d been operating as Spoiler, she’d been restricted to only the most basic things that Robin could smuggle on to her. She was already at a massive disadvantage against pretty much any of the bats, she’d only managed to beat Huntress because the Riddler had intervened, and Steph couldn’t let it stand.

Of course, the easy thing to do would be to just ask the Riddler for more gadgets and tech, but there was no way Steph was going to go grovelling to him when she was still pretty pissed off about his lack of faith in her. Besides, one thing Steph had learned was that if something was worth doing, it was worth overdoing, hence why she was on her way to the Iceberg Lounge.

Steph’s first thought had been to try to make her own gadgets to help her when she went toe to toe with the Bats, but she also had a pretty good estimation of her skills. Even with the Riddler’s tutelage, she was still just a sixteen year old girl with an above average intelligence, not an engineer. But why make her own things when Gotham had what could only be described as a surplus of supervillains with their own gadgetry?

Sure, it wasn’t principled or showing off that she was the best and most brilliant, but Steph didn’t care about that. All she cared about was making sure that she didn’t get caught and put her mom through all the pain that would come with it.

It took a little longer to get to the lounge than it had the first time she’d gone with the Riddler, she couldn’t quite remember the exact route they’d taken, but she got there in the end. Ducking into an alleyway before she got to the backdoor, Steph quickly pulled on a hat and domino mask and sprayed her hair with the black dye.

Satisfied that she was sufficiently disguised as Teaser, Steph hurried the short distance to the back entrance and rapped on the door. After a moment, the slot on the door opened up and someone looked out at her suspiciously.

“Teaser, I work for Riddler.” After another moment, the slot shut and the sound of locks and bolts rang out before the door swung open. Hesitating for a moment, Steph stepped inside, past the doorman and down the corridor, trying not to jump as the door shut behind her.

The bar was pretty empty when Steph walked in, no big name villains were hanging around, but that was pretty ideal. Steph didn’t have nearly enough faith in herself to try to convince the likes of Scarecrow or Mr Freeze to part with their equipment.

Most of the people there seemed to be henchmen, just getting a drink before their work began for the day, but Steph did notice one man in particular who was perfect for her purposes. It was hard to miss the Condiment King sitting alone at the bar, his outfit was so garish and eye-catching, nursing a drink.

Taking a couple of breaths to calm her nerves and psych herself up, Steph approached the bar and sat down a couple of stools away from the rather laughable villain. She waited patiently for the bartender to notice her, and as she did so, she snuck a couple of glances over at Condiment King, plotting out her plan of attack.

Simply stealing his gun would be, quite frankly, incredibly easy. The man looked as though a stiff breeze would knock him down, and he looked as though he was already half drunk. Simply lifting the condiment gun from him wouldn’t be a problem for her too, but Steph didn’t want to resort to something like that.

As ineffectual a villain as he was, Steph didn’t want to get on his bad side, nor did she want to start gaining a reputation as someone who was light-fingered when it came to other Rogues. What the Riddler had said about image had rubbed off on Steph a little, and if there was one thing Steph knew the value of, it was maintaining good relations with people.

She’d managed to avoid getting robbed when walking around the neighbourhood or getting bullied at school by carefully cultivating relationships with the various teenage power players and just being her usual charming self. True, it was perhaps a little manipulative and Steph did feel kinda bad about that aspect, but it was better than having to throw punches all the time to get through her youth.

“I’ll have a coke, please.” She told the bartender as he came over. It was the same guy who’d served her the last time she’d been there, and he seemed to recognise her as he glanced around the lounge.

“Where’s your boss?” He asked as he grabbed a bottle and cracked it open for her. “Would’ve thought he’d be here chatting with Mr Cobblepot.”

“He’s busy right now.” Steph said evasively, taking the bottle and handing over a few bills. “And he’s not my keeper. Besides, I’m sure you know how frustrating he can be. I just needed to get away for a while and do my own thing.” Steph let her voice carry a little more than she would normally, hoping that she’d catch Condiment King’s attention.

“I hear you. Must get pretty annoying working for a know-it-all like Riddler.” The bartender laughed, showing off his perfect white teeth. He was actually pretty handsome in that sort of slightly rough around the edges way that Steph normally found attractive.

If this had been a couple of years ago, Steph probably would have thrown herself at him and done everything in her power to attract his attention. Of course, back then, her self-esteem had been at rock bottom and she would have done pretty much anything to make her feel better about herself.

Nowadays, she had way more self-respect, and no desire to humiliate herself chasing a guy who was probably closer to thirty than twenty. In any case, it wouldn’t hurt to make nice with someone who was no doubt pretty in with the villains who frequented the Iceberg Lounge.

“Yeah, it gets pretty annoying sometimes.” She laughed along with him. “I just have to deal with him, though. I imagine you’ve got it worse, having to put up with every wackjob in Gotham who decided to put on a mask and costume.”

“It’s not too bad.” The bartender shrugged, wiping out a few glasses, most likely to look busy whilst he chatted to her. “They tip way better than your average Gothamite, and Mr Cobblepot pays pretty well too. Also, he has great dental.”

“Oh I’m sure he does, but come on, there must be some guys with dumb gimmicks that you hate dealing with.” Steph raised her voice just a little bit more in the hopes that the Condiment King would overhear and take it upon himself to interject. If any not-so-supervillain in Gotham had a dumb gimmick, it was Condiment King, though that was perhaps closely followed by Signalman and Kiteman.

“It’s not a gimmick! It’s a carefully thought out motif!” Sure enough, the man was unable to resist jumping in to defend himself. “I fail to see how my motif of sauces and condiments is any worse than the Riddler’s obsession with puzzles!”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t referring to you.” Steph apologised, turning to face the incensed villain. “I mean, what you do isn’t gimmicky at all, and if people have been telling you that, they’re dead wrong.”

“It’s not?” Condiment King actually seemed to be taken aback by the flattery and Steph had to stop herself from rolling her eyes that he didn’t immediately see it for the painfully transparent attempt that it was.

“Of course not. Gimmicks are cheap and blasé, everyone knows the Condiment King, what you have is a brand.” Steph failed to mention that the only reason people knew who he was was because he was so pathetic at villainy and his whole ‘brand’ was just so outlandish he was simply impossible to forget, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Brand?” God, this guy was dim. How was he still out here and not locked up in Blackgate? Steph could feel the suspicious and sceptical look the bartender was giving her, but she paid it no mind. “I mean, of course it’s a brand! All the good condiments have brands! You don’t get ketchup without Heinz!”

“That’s right.” Steph agreed, trying her best to fake enthusiasm. “Not to mention, of course, just how everyone underestimates you and how dangerous you can be.”

“That’s right! I am so frequently underestimated!” Steph had to wonder if he wasn’t way drunker than she thought he was. He couldn’t possibly be sober and buy her bullshit. Either that or he was so starved and desperate for approval that her just telling him what he wanted to hear was enough. She really hoped it was the former, because the latter was just way way sadder.

“Exactly, people don’t know how dangerous condiments can be.”

“Didn’t you once nearly cause someone to go into anaphylactic shock?” It was just about the only way Steph could think of for a gun that fired mayonnaise to be any sort of threat.

“Um, no.” Condiment King looked rather embarrassed. “That was just a rumour. I did manage to send a guy to the hospital after I got him in the eye with some hot sauce, though.”

“Sounds painful.” Steph was telling the truth there, getting hot sauce in your eye, especially the industrial strength kind that Condiment King was probably packing, did sound pretty painful.

“It was during my most successful robbery yet!” The Condiment King declared smugly and Steph could only wonder what he considered to be his most successful robbery. If it was knocking over an ATM, she was probably just going to give up on this venture and find someone else to give her some of their equipment.

“I robbed a three Michelin star restaurant!” That did mildly impress Steph, but only mildly. “Those rich folks were so concerned about their fancy clothes that they just forked over all their valuables!” Right. Somehow, it was even less impressive than Steph had even imagined it to be, though that was more on the upper class richy rich snobs than the Condiment King.

“And you got away?”

“Well… Not exactly.” Steph didn’t know what she really expected and it took a lot of self-control not to groan. “I was knocked out by Robin on the way out, but I did get him with mustard before he did!” He sounded so pleased with himself about that, Steph really was starting to feel bad for the guy.

Of course, not too bad for him. She might not have known about the particulars of this robbery, but she had been forced to put up with Robin’s whining about the smell of mustard on his costume for the week following. You would think that a vigilante with a vast array of bat-themed gadgets would have some kind of extra strong bat-laundry detergent and a bat-washing machine.

“I’m sure he was humiliated.” Steph continued to flatter the Condiment King, who just kept lapping it up. “Knowing the bats, I’m sure he and the rest of them are so arrogant that they’re the ones who underestimate you the most.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” Condiment King gestured expansively with his half-drunk beer. “You’d think they didn’t realise that villains have feelings too.” Steph had to bite the inside of her cheek at that. Yeah, the villains had feelings, but they were also committing crimes and robbing people, a few snide comments about how ridiculous their costumes were the least they could put up with.

“I expect they think you’re some sort of moron as well. I mean, you created your condiment gun yourself, didn’t you?”

“I sure did!” The not-so-supervillain declared proudly. “I was always good at shop class in school, so it wasn’t too hard.”

“Do you think I could have a look at it?” Steph asked tentatively, trying to play the part of the awestruck fan. With a smug grin, Condiment King unholstered his weapon and handed it over to Steph. She briefly wondered why he was allowed to be armed in the Lounge when the Riddler had mentioned offhandedly before they’d visited the first time that the Penguin had a strict no-weapons policy.

Then she remembered that the gun only fired condiments and was about as dangerous as a foam dart gun.

Taking the ‘weapon’, Steph turned it over in her hands, analysing the outer casing. Really, if she was going to improve the device, she needed to get inside it and look at all the internals, but she wasn’t able to do that right now.

“This is so cool!” She enthused as she pretended to examine it closer. “You know what I think though. I bet I can make this even more effective than it already is.”

“What, really?”

“For sure, I’m pretty sure I can get the compressor to work even more efficiently and get you an even more concentrated and forceful spray.” That was just one of the many ideas Steph had for what she could do with the condiment gun, but she wasn’t about to share all of her ideas with him.

“You really think you can do that?”

“I’m pretty sure I can, I’d need to spend some time with it first, though.” For the first time since the conversation started, Condiment King actually looked a little unsure and doubtful.

“I’m not sure about that…”

“You made it, so I’m sure you know that I can’t just diagnose issues and fix it on the spot. It’ll take a bit of time.” Steph cajoled. She could tell he was unsure of whether he should let her loose with his condiment gun. “You know I’m working for the Riddler, you really think he’d hire someone who didn’t know what they were doing?”

“I guess not, but how will I be able to commit heists if you’ve got my gun?”

“You’re telling me you don’t have a backup or sidearm you could use instead?” Steph continued to push, changing tack just a little. “I would’ve thought such a well-prepared villain such as yourself would have at least two spare.”

“O-Of course I do!” Condiment King flailed, trying to cover for his obvious failing. “Yeah, you can borrow it, but I’ll need it back by the end of the week.”

“No problem.” Steph smirked, fishing a slip of paper and a pen out of her pocket and handing it over. “Just write down where I should drop it off when I’m done.” Taking the paper, Condiment King scrawled out an address and handed back the paper.

“Just bring it here.”

“Great, I promise you won’t regret it.” Steph said and it was probably the most truthful she’d been in the last ten minutes.

“I’d better not, or else I’ll be coming for you.” Condiment King threatened half-heartedly before necking the rest of his beer. “Thanks, kid, see you around.” With that, he got up and walked off to the exit, looking a little unsteady on his feet.

“What are you up to?” Steph jumped a little as the bartender spoke up, having remained silent throughout the entire conversation.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” Steph assured him, fishing around in her pockets again. “Here.” She handed him a few crumpled twenties which he took with a shrug.

“Sure, you rogues just do your rogue things.” He turned away to continue his tasks but not before giving her some parting advice. “Try not to get yourself hurt doing it, though, you seem like a pretty good kid.”

“Thanks.” Steph fought off a scowl at the suggestion that she was a mere kid as she hoisted the condiment gun up and stuffed it into her bag. She had a weapon to deconstruct and improve, not to mention a workshop she needed to break into to do so, a task that she was sure would be much tougher than getting Condiment King to hand his weapon over.

Getting up, she waved goodbye to the bartender and headed out as well. She only had a few hours before she needed to be back at the office and she didn’t want to waste anymore time.

Chapter Text

Steph drummed her fingers anxiously on the doorframe as she scowled irritably at the locked door. If she’d asked politely, The Riddler probably would have given her access to one of his many workshops, but then she’d have to tell him what she was up to.

Besides, it wasn’t as though he could really blame her for putting his lessons into practice. What did he expect her to use all of these new skills for? She hadn’t quite planned on putting them into practice on The Riddler’s stuff quite so soon, but she had been surreptitiously watching him unlock the place whenever he’d brought her to the workshop.

She’d managed to bypass all of the mechanical locks, all the lockpicking practice had finally paid off, and she knew all of the codes for the keypads. What was giving her trouble was the very last lock, a biometric one, more specifically one keyed to The Riddler’s fingerprint.

Her first instinct had been to somehow get a copy of his fingerprint and use that with some kind of fleshy medium, like a gel, to bypass it, but that would take far too long. So here she was, contemplating the last obstacle between her and her goals.

She’d already checked for a manual override keyway, and it seemed that The Riddler had already thought of that, as she’d found it gummed up with glue. She was pretty sure that was not good practice in the long term. Those manual overrides were there for a reason, after all.

Pulling out her penknife, she tried to dig some of the glue out, before abandoning the idea. It was far too firmly embedded for her to do that and try to pick it. Scowling, Steph resumed inspecting the lock for any physical vulnerabilities.

It was a well-made lock and she found herself quite stymied by it. It wasn’t custom made or anything, just a high-end electronic lock. If the Riddler hadn’t gone and ruined the keyway, she probably would have been able to pick it and get in ages ago.

Huffing irritably, she kicked the door in frustration. She was stuck and she didn’t know where else she could take her cargo to make the various improvements she planned on. Why the Riddler had to be so paranoid about security and hadn’t given her access to one of his workshops, she didn’t know.

Resigning herself to having to go away and create a solution for a later date, Steph decided that she might as well not make it a wasted trip and to lift the fingerprint from the scanner. Pulling her emergency makeup bag out, she grabbed her powder to use as a makeshift dust, and was about to lightly dust down the scanner when she noticed how exceptionally clean it was.

Frowning, she set it aside and pulled out a loupe The Riddler had given her for more fiddly engineering projects and examined the small piece of glass that was the scanner. She could not see anything, no residue of any kind, so unless The Riddler wiped it down every time he used it…

“No. He wouldn’t.” Steph scowled, taking the glasses off as a few things clicked together in her mind. The man was incredibly paranoid. Why would he have a lock that stored his fingerprint? It would tie him to the workshop in the event of it getting discovered by the Bats. Not only that, he was utterly convinced that he was the smartest person in any room. These two facts, along with the evidence in front of her, pointed towards a single conclusion.

Reaching out, she pressed the button on the lock to trigger the scan, and after a second, the apparatus clicked and Steph swore loudly.

“That fucking prick!” She snarled, pushing the door open and stalking into the lab. Of course he’d somehow turned a fucking fingerprint scanner into some sort of puzzle. If he hadn’t secured the door with half a dozen other locks, she would have said it was the least secure lock she’d ever come across.

The sheer arrogance of the man to think that nobody would work out that he hadn’t actually set a fingerprint on the lock, and she suspected that if it did scan a fingerprint, his own or someone else’s, it wouldn’t work. Whilst she could see the fairly twisted logic of it, she was still pretty sure that it was a terrible idea, given that she’d managed to work it out.

Still, she’d made it into the workshop and she could finally get down to business. Carrying her bag over to one of the workbenches, Steph set it down on the floor and pulled the Condiment Cannon out to place it on the workbench.

It was a fairly bulky weapon, and now that she was able to inspect it properly she could see all the bits of duct tape and general bodge job repairs. It was still a good base to start from, and she grabbed a few tools to start cracking it open.

She made short work of the outer casing and carefully set it aside to properly examine the internal workings of the ‘weapon’. It was fairly simple, a long tube fed into the back of the gun from a condiment reservoir that was presumably mounted on Condiment King’s back. From there, the sauce was pumped through the weapon and fired out with reasonable force, comparable to that of a higher-end water gun.

Her first thought was the one that she’d mentioned earlier at the Lounge. The pump could be quite a bit stronger to get a more consistent flow. The primary issue he was most likely having was that the condiments he was using as ammunition was considerably thicker than water, which would affect the efficiency of the pump.

There was little doubt in Steph’s mind that he’d just cannibalised the pump from some kind of household appliance or something along those lines and installed it in the weapon whilst rigging up a trigger mechanism.

She was also pretty sure she could rig up a mechanism so that the cannon was fed by two tubes for different condiments and a switch so that he could alternate between the two. Why anyone would ever want or need to switch between firing ketchup and mustard was beyond Steph, but it would increase the utility of the fairly useless ‘weapon’.

That was where all of her theorised improvements to the cannon she was going to give back to the Condiment King ended, however. She had hoped that it would give her more of a basis to work with, but she supposed she had to start somewhere.

Of her own improvements to the weapon, the first thing she intended to do away with was the tubing. It was too vulnerable to being damaged, and it would be child’s play for one of the bats to sever the tube and render the cannon inoperable.Also that wasn’t even getting into how impractical and bulky a whole tank of liquid mounted on your back was. Firefly only really got away with it because that jetpack of his meant that he was a lot more manoeuvrable than someone stuck on the ground.

Of course, that meant that she needed an alternative means to load the weapon, and whilst she was at it, consider what she was going to load her version with. She had a few ideas for substances that were significantly more dangerous than various condiments. The first that sprang to mind was some form of acid, but she was a little reluctant to include that in her arsenal.

She didn’t want to actually hurt anyone, and for the acid to be a viable weapon, it needed to be pretty strong. The potential collateral damage from that wasn’t something she wanted to risk. Acid had already caused enough damage in Gotham when used on purpose on Two Face, she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she was spraying it everywhere.

The same applied to things like Joker venom and Scarecrow’s fear toxin, not even taking into account how it would be difficult to get her hands on those. Ditto for anything of Mr Freeze’s. As much as she’d like to both look at and have some of his cryonic tech, she was going to have to work up to that.

No, she was going to have to come up with something of her own to load the weapon with, but she just couldn’t think of what that was at the moment.

Sighing deeply, Steph drummed her fingers on the workbench as she tried to think of what could be a viable payload for a gun that fired liquid that wouldn’t cause massive collateral damage. She cast her eyes around the workshop for some inspiration, and her eyes settled upon a hot glue gun lying abandoned to one side, and a grin spread across her face as it hit her.

It was such a simple idea, she wasn’t sure how she hadn’t come up with it before. Glue was the perfect solution to her problem, relatively harmless and very useful for trapping and inconveniencing people during a crime.

A firm goal in mind, Steph headed over to the Riddler’s various storage cupboards and started rummaging around in them for the things she’d need as she mentally went over the specifications she wanted for her glue gun.

She didn’t want a glue that would harden or take ages to dry, it just needed to be incredibly sticky and hindering, and Steph had the perfect kind to start. The kind of glue used in those horrible rodent traps. As inhumane as those things were, they did provide both a useful base and initial supply of material.

Of course, that stuff wasn’t exactly going to be easy to pump through a gun, it was almost as much a solid as it was a liquid. There was probably a proper scientific name for that sort of thing, but Steph didn’t really care to find out what it was at the moment. The only solution she could think of would be some sort of heating system within the gun to keep the glue as a liquid whilst it was within the apparatus.

Clearly, there was a fair bit of work she was going to have to do, as well as some tests and experiments she was going to have to run in order to perfect the adhesive she intended to use. She hadn’t even considered how she was going to load and supply the weapon with ammunition. She was still sure that she didn’t want to carry some kind of external pack, far too vulnerable and obvious. Steph was pretty sure that The Riddler would notice if she started wearing a large tank of glue on her back, and that would raise several awkward questions.

One step at a time though. First things first, improving Condiment King’s Condiment Cannon. Grabbing a few more tools and items, she returned to the workbench and got to work improving the weapon.

She hoped that the Condiment King would appreciate her work and start spreading word of her capabilities. She might not be as smart as The Riddler or Oracle, but she could definitely go toe to toe with them if she got a network together. She couldn’t be the best at everything, but she didn’t need to be, she just needed to know someone who was.

Plans firmly in place, Steph started to take the weapon to pieces properly. She only had a couple of hours to work on this before The Riddler wanted her back, and she intended to make the most of it.

Chapter Text

“Why can’t I shake the feeling I’m just playing into stereotypes with this?” Steph grumbled as she idly twirled her slim jim as she inspected the latest vehicle The Riddler had brought for her to break into. “I mean, poor white girl breaking into cars?”

“I’m pretty sure just by engaging in crime and following in the footsteps of your dear daddy you’re playing into stereotypes.”

“That’s supervillainy, that’s different. Carjacking is just the sort of mundane criminality people expect of people like me.” Steph rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps, though I’m glad to see that you at least understand that we are of a different, better, class of criminal than the rabble.” Steph wasn’t sure if she could roll her eyes any harder than she already was. “Nevertheless, being able to unlock and hotwire a car is a very important skill for any criminal.”

“Yeah, I know, I get your point et cetera.” Steph groaned before approaching the latest car. They were set up in the underground garage beneath The Riddler’s brownstone. When she’d returned to the building after her short tinkering session, she’d been instructed by Nina to head down to the garage.

When she’d emerged from the lift, she’d found the unusually empty lot filled with cars of all types and ages. Her boss had been waiting for her beside one of the cars, fiddling with one of his many phones whilst a toolbox sat open at his feet.

He’d simply passed the toolbox over to her and set her the challenge of breaking into all of the cars he’d brought and starting the engine without damaging the vehicle too badly. No instruction or anything, just a box of various tools and the challenge he’d set. The only reason she knew that it was possible to break into them and start them up was because The Riddler had clearly stolen them to get them here.

The first couple had been easy enough, they were old and Steph knew enough that it was relatively easy to pop the lock with a slim jim and after some experimentation beneath the steering column, she’d managed to get them running.

The more recent models were giving her a bit of trouble, anti-theft tech had come quite a way and though she’d been provided with plenty of tools to use, she wasn’t sure which to use or how to use them.

“Are you going to just stand there? Or will you give me a hint if I ask for one?”

“I’m trying a new teaching method for this one. I’ve rarely had to teach people so my understanding of pedagogy is quite limited.”

“Wow, The Riddler actually admitting that he doesn’t know something.” Steph snarked, approaching the next car to inspect it closer. “Call the press, history has been made.”

“Admitting that you don’t know something is the first step to learning, Miss Brown.” He told her in that annoying smug tone of his. “And whilst my knowledge is vast, I will be the first to admit that it is not complete. I am not omniscient.”

“Could have fooled me.” Steph grumbled, her inspection of the lock yielding nothing of value to her. “So your new teaching method is just standing around and looking smug, is it?”

“No, it’s giving you all the tools you need to solve the problem and then letting you work it out for yourself. Some of the journals I read on teaching had studies that suggested it was a more effective method than simply instructing a student.”

“Well if there’s studies that say that, it must be true.” Steph muttered, mostly to herself. Pulling the toolbox over, she sifted through the various tools in search of something that resembled a lockpick. No such tool was to be seen though, and she let out a groan of frustration.

“Look, I’m not sure how long I’ve been at this, but surely it’s time for me to go by now? Just slamming my head against a metaphorical brick wall isn’t going to help.” She complained, rocking back on the balls of her feet and looking up at the Riddler.

“I suppose it is getting rather late in the day.” He said after consulting his watch. “Though I will say that if you are going to continue as my apprentice you’ll need a lot more perseverance than that. You won’t be able to just give up in the middle of a heist or a chase just because you’ve ‘hit a wall’.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you.” Huffing irritably, Steph stood up, replacing her tools in the box and closing it up. “But given that I have the luxury of being able to take a step back and think on things, I’m going to take advantage of it.”

“Fair enough I suppose.” The Riddler said, taking the toolbox off her and leading the way back to the lift. “The cars will still be down here for you to continue in the morning. And once you’ve done that, I’ll fetch a new selection for you to work on under a time constraint.”

“Seriously?”

“Very seriously. You won’t always have a lot of time to jack a car, Miss Brown, so being able to do so quickly is an important skill.”

“And I suppose given your usual insistence on nondestructive entry methods that smashing the window is out of the question.”

“And yet you felt the need to say it out loud.” The Riddler sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Just checking.” Steph sighed deeply. She wasn’t sure whether this more hands off approach that Riddler seemed to be taking was better or worse than his previous one. He was still incredibly condescending, but at least he seemed to be having a modicum of faith in her ability to work things out for herself. Perhaps he’d be surprised when he eventually found out about her side projects and would maybe stop being quite such a smug jerk all the time.

“I still have some work to do so I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Brown.” The Riddler said as the lift came to a halt on the ground floor.

“Yeah, see ya.” Steph muttered, stepping out of the lift and pausing to watch it continue up to the offices. Sighing and shaking her head, Steph headed out. She was quite looking forward to taking a break from all the intense thinking she’d had to do today for all the various projects she had going on. Some relaxation was exactly what she needed right now.

Relaxation was overrated. Her mom was at work again, leaving Steph alone in the apartment as the evening wore on and became night. Despite her attempts to lie down and do something mindless on her laptop, Steph found herself unable to get her brain to be quiet or to stop herself from shifting around restlessly.

She didn’t feel all that tired either, the time she’d spent as Spoiler had conditioned her to stay up pretty late and now she was paying for it with her completely free and rather lonely evening. She supposed that she could work some more on her hero tracking project, but she really didn’t feel like it at the moment.

Really, Steph wasn’t sure what she wanted to do right now, but she felt like she should be doing something and not just lying here rewatching an hour long video essay about the history of the Justice League arcade game and the controversy of its licensing.

Letting out a loud groan, Steph paused the video and set her laptop aside as she sat up and looked around her room. Nothing inspired her though and she ended up glancing out of the window at the darkened city.

She wondered what was going out there in the world of superheroes and criminals. It wasn’t raining so she doubted that Batman would be up brooding on a gargoyle, surveying the city. He was probably out on patrol like the other bats, out in search of crime. There was always something happening, someone who needed saving, though right now Steph felt like she was the only one who needed saving from her own boredom.

Her contemplation of the skyline and the activities of the heroes did give her an idea for how to alleviate her boredom. Leaving her room, she headed into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. Whilst it boiled, she dug through the cupboards for the thermos she used to take with her on stakeouts.

Eventually finding it, she then raided the fridge for anything that she could quickly throw together. After moving several almost out of date ready meals aside, she grabbed a half used jar of grape jelly and figured that if it was good enough for Robin, it should be more than good enough for Batgirl.

By the time the kettle had finished boiling, Steph had thrown together several PB&Js that should sate both her and Batgirl’s hunger. Pouring the hot water into the thermos, Steph tossed a tea bag in and screwed the lid on.

With pretty much everything ready, Steph grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and with her thermos and sandwiches, headed back into her room and clambered out of the window and onto the fire escape.

As she expected, the rooftop was deserted when she got up there, but she was undeterred as she laid out the blanket and sat down on it and waited. She pulled out her phone after a few minutes to fiddle with whilst waiting for the heroine to show up.

Really, she needed a better way to get in contact with Batgirl whenever she wanted to talk with her rather than just waiting for her to show up. Maybe if she were to call some public number and just say some suspicious stuff to catch Oracle’s attention that would get Batgirl to come.

She didn’t really feel like committing a crime by calling the emergency services unnecessarily so she just sat there and checked through social media to see if there was anything major going on that might have taken Batgirl’s attention away from her roof.

After maybe ten minutes of waiting, she got kind of bored and pulled one of the sandwiches out of the box she’d put them in to transport them up here. She was just about to take a bite when a familiar and slightly halting voice spoke from behind her.

“Can have one, please?”

Steph nearly shrieked and just about held onto her sandwich as she looked around to glare up at Batgirl.

“You really have got to stop doing that!” She scolded, though there wasn’t much anger behind it. “Maybe I should just put a bell on you.”

“Wouldn’t get close enough.” Batgirl said, seating herself beside Steph, head cocked expectantly. Rolling her eyes, Steph grabbed one of the sandwiches and passed it over to Batgirl.

“I made them for you mostly. I figured you were probably hungry. I always got super hungry on patrol.”

“Thank you.” Batgirl intoned, untucking the bottom of her cowl and pulling it up to expose her mouth. She didn’t pause and took several large bites of the sandwich, wolfing down half of it in just a few seconds. Steph wasn’t sure if she should be pleased or insulted that batgirl hadn’t even checked if the sandwich was poisoned or not, but she dismissed the uncertainty as pointless.

“Sorry it’s not as good as the milkshakes we got last night. This was kind of on impulse.”

“Is okay. Is good.” Batgirl reassured her, cheeks bulging like a hamster’s as she stuffed more of the sandwich into her mouth. Steph hadn’t really paid attention to it when they’d had milkshakes and she couldn’t see all that well in the darkness of the rooftop, but she found her gaze drawn to Batgirl’s mouth.

She had surprisingly full lips, currently flecked with crumbs and a few specks of jelly, and Steph could see the thin lines of a few scars on them. Despite the only light coming from her phone, Steph could just about make out a few details on Batgirl’s jaw which was also littered with scars.

The analytical part of Steph’s mind automatically catalogued them along with the heroine’s skin tone that seemed to suggest to Steph someone from East Asia, not that she was an expert like the Riddler. If he was here he’d probably have worked out exactly who she was just from this and hearing her talk for just a few seconds.

“How come you wanted to meet so soon?” Batgirl asked after swallowing down another few more sandwiches. “Boss still being mean?”

“He was actually remarkably tolerable today. Only a few snide remarks.” Steph said, taking another sandwich of her own and taking a bite. “Honestly? I was kinda bored just sitting on my own and it’s kind of embarrassing, but you’re pretty much the only person I can really call a friend.”

“Must have school friends.”

“No one wants to be friends with the outcast trans girl whose dad is a shit supervillain.” Steph sighed deeply. School honestly really sucked sometimes, she was so much of an outcast even the other outcasts wanted nothing to do with her. She didn’t know if any of the other rogues had children, but if they did, their identities were unknown otherwise they’d also probably be shunned just as much.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Steph sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes I do wish that there was someone who understood what it was like to have a supervillain for a dad. Not that it’s something I’d wish upon anyone of course.”

She let out another deep sigh, she really hadn’t done a great job of explaining herself with that. It was just hard to be the only one in her position, saddled with this legacy that she not only didn’t want to live up to, but was also incredibly mediocre.

“Not supervillain.” Batgirl said haltingly after a moment’s silence. Steph was ready to contradict her that despite her father’s ineptitude he was still considered a supervillain by most metrics but she continued. “Assassin. But close enough.”

“What?”

“My father.” Steph couldn’t see it very well in the low light, but she was pretty sure that Batgirl’s cheeks had gone a little red. “Is not the same as supervillain, but is close.”

“Oh.” Steph gnawed at her bottom lip as she turned this new piece of information over in her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Is okay. Is not your fault.” A small smirk seemed to be playing around the corners of Batgirl’s mouth. “Thought would like to know. Not alone.”

“Thanks. It means a lot.” Steph smiled a little at Batgirl. “I’m guessing he wasn’t exactly a model parent huh?”

“Not exactly.”

“Figures. What did he do as punishment? Mine always used to lock me in the hall closet whenever I misbehaved.”

“Shot me.”

Steph blinked a couple of times as she took this in.

“What?”

“Would shoot me.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Steph shook her head in disbelief. “Geez, I thought I had it bad, but I think you win that prize.”

“Is it food?”

“Huh?”

“The prize.”

“Oh!” Steph fought back a snort of laughter. “Sure. I’ll get you some cookies or something.” Batgirl broke into a bright smile that despite the flecks of peanut butter was still absolutely adorable. Opening up the thermos, Steph took a small drink of the scalding tea before offering it to Batgirl who took it. She seemed to be completely unperturbed by the heat as she drank at least half of it in one go.

“I’m guessing it’s not too busy a night then?”

“Nothing the others can’t handle without me for a little while.”

“You know, I was wondering how you knew I was up here tonight.”

“Secret.” Batgirl’s bright smile became a little bit of a smirk before she handed the thermos back and stood up, stretching out. “Still have time before patrol.”

“Why are you getting up then?”

“Restless. Want to move around.”

“Really?” Steph raised an eyebrow at her. “You just ate like half a dozen PB&Js, I’d want to take a rest after eating that much.”

“Want to burn it off.”

“Guess I can’t blame you for that.” Steph got to her feet as well, wincing at how her joints popped. “So what did you want to do then?”

Batgirl gave her a contemplative look as she pulled her cowl back down to cover her mouth. Then without warning, she darted forward to lightly tap Steph on the shoulder.

“Tag.”

“You’re serious?” Steph didn’t move as she looked at Batgirl incredulously as she stepped back expectantly. “There’s no way I’m going to catch you, I’m way too out of practice at this sort of thing.”

“Will go easy.”

“Hmm, why don’t I believe that?” Steph asked, stifling a small laugh before shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But let’s keep to this block, okay? I haven’t got any fancy gadgets on me so I can’t go swinging around.”

“Deal.” The cowl around Batgirl’s mouth shifted into what Steph recognised as a smile before she turned on her heel and fled. Shaking her head and laughing again, Steph ran after her.

This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Steph was really starting to regret having let her physical training slide since signing on with The Riddler. Sure, she'd learned a lot more about computers and engineering than she would have as Spoiler, but it wasn't all that useful right now.

Her breathing was harsh and painful as she chased after Batgirl, feet pounding across the rooftop. As she ran, she idly wondered if top floor apartments in Gotham were cheaper than others because of all the superheroes and criminals running above them.

Despite neglecting her physical regimen, however, Steph was still able to keep pace with Batgirl, not that she was under any illusion that it was because of her own skills. Batgirl could keep up with Batman, and probably surpass him too, so it was very obvious to Steph that the hero wasn’t going all out.

She appreciated it, though, it made the game more fun for the both of them if Steph at least had something of a chance to catch up. It wasn’t a very good chance, though, and the probability that she was going to tag Batgirl decreased with each missed landing and stumble.

Still, Steph was having the time of her life running after Batgirl. She’d missed this sort of thing the most since her break with the heroes of Gotham, particularly just the opportunity to spend time with people around her age. God knows how little she got to do that in her civilian life, and she hated to think about anyone her age getting into a life of supercrime like she was, so Batman’s sidekicks were pretty much the only time she got to talk to other teens.

It was dark on the rooftops, the street lights not illuminating them well, making it a difficult task to keep her eyes on Batgirl as she ran about ten feet ahead of her. Steph’s gaze was firmly fixed on the hero, however, and as she chased down the elusive bat, her mind started to wander in a particular direction.

As she ran, Batgirl’s cape fluttered behind her, flapping up to reveal her shapely butt. Steph tried her best to look respectfully, but her gaze inevitably drifted down whenever she got a clear view. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t admired Batgirl’s body before, but this was the first time she’d been able to do it without the risk of getting attacked by a criminal.

With her mind getting dragged to these places, however, she was reminded of The Riddler’s suggestion that she seduce a member of the batfamily to get more lenient treatment.

Just the mere thought of that knocked Steph off of her stride, and she caught her foot on a rough part of the roof and went stumbling forwards. Before she could land painfully on the asphalt, a strong hand caught her and arrested her fall.

“Careful. Not wearing proper protection.” Batgirl intoned as she helped Steph back to her feet. Steph’s mind was still fixated on Batgirl and her impressive physique so she inevitably focused on how strong the hero was. It would not surprise her if Batgirl could easily bench press her and a very convincing part of her desperately wanted to find out if her theory was correct.

She managed to pull herself away from that train of thought, though, mostly by reminding herself of the conversation she’d had with Selina about it and just how generally ick seducing Batgirl for such a reason was.

Of course, Steph wasn’t above taking advantage of Batgirl in other ways, such as right now she was very much within arm’s reach.

“Tag!” She smirked, as she flexed her wrist around and tapped Batgirl’s arm. She wasn’t sure if Batgirl had just let her do it, but she liked to think that she was too close for the hero to do anything about it.

Batgirl did loosen her grip enough for Steph to wriggle free though, and with a whoop, she took off back the way they’d come. The rudimentary parkour she’d picked up from Robin was coming back to her now, just like riding a bike, and she vaulted over a ventilation shaft perfectly.

She didn’t dare look behind her to see how close Batgirl was. She couldn’t hear any sound of her pursuer, not that she expected to, and checking behind her certainly wouldn’t help either. If Batgirl wanted to catch and tag her, she definitely would.

Something her time with the Riddler had hammered into Steph was that she needed to have a very good estimation of her own skills and how they stacked up against others. If she were the sort of person who’d do a ranking of heroes, the sort that argued Batman could always and easily beat Superman, and were to place herself on that ladder, she knew she was pretty much on the bottom rung.

What she lacked in training or powers, though, she knew she made up for in wits and with some luck, that was what might give her enough of an edge in this game so that she wasn’t just being toyed with.

She kept her ears open for any sound that would let her know that Batgirl was closing in. It was a little difficult with the pounding of her feet on the rooftop, but it was all she could do to try to keep ahead of her friend.

She put on a burst of speed and juked to her left. She had no reason to do so, but Steph had had something of a crazy idea. Batgirl had once made an offhand comment that she occasionally struggled with fighting the Joker and Harley Quinn. Although she didn’t say why, Steph had inferred the most likely reason for it.

If she could just replicate the randomness and chaos of the two villains, then she might just be able to stay a step ahead of Batgirl. Steph didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t have a plan and deliberately was trying not to plan as she ran across the rooftops and launched herself over another alleyway.

Exhilaration filled her as she soared through the air, weightless for the few brief moments before she landed on the other roof and executed a perfect roll. Popping to her feet, Steph was ready to keep running, when a dark gloved hand appeared right in front of her.

“Tag.” Batgirl gently tapped a finger against Steph’s forehead before taking off again. Steph didn’t have much time to try to work out just how Batgirl had gotten ahead of her like that as the heroine was already several metres away, and the gap was only increasing.

Gritting her teeth, she took off after Batgirl, pushing her legs to the limit as she tried to catch up to her friend. It really was an indication of how much she’d neglected her physical training that her muscles were now screaming at her to stop, but she pushed through the pain and kept running.

She wasn’t about to give up, Steph wasn’t a quitter. Never mind her stopping being Spoiler, that wasn’t so much quitting as far as she was concerned, it was more of a horizontal career change. Her breathing was sharp and laboured as she kept pushing, trying her hardest to catch up with her friend.

At the very least, she wasn’t falling behind, though again, she was more than aware that it was because Batgirl was holding herself back. Maybe it was pure cope, but Steph was pretty sure that she was only holding back a little. She consoled herself with that thought as she chased after Batgirl, hopping over ventilation shafts and dodging around air conditioning units.

She wished that she’d brought her grappling hook with her to the roof before they’d decided to do this. Swinging through the air on the end of it was one of the things she missed the most from before signing on with The Riddler. He wasn’t the sort of villain who spent his time up on rooftops and parkouring around. If she’d wanted to stick with that then she should have joined up with Selina, not that she was the sort who’d want to have a sidekick.

It was pretty hard to keep track of Batgirl as she darted across the rooftops, the darkness of her costume blending in with her surroundings perfectly. The only way Steph was really able to catch sight of her was whenever there was a brief flash of her yellow utility belt.

She never got why the other bats used yellow as a highlight colour for their costumes when they were supposed to be incredibly sneaky. Maybe it was a pride thing for Batman to be able to wear something eye-catching like yellow and still be incredibly stealthy, and that had just rubbed off on the others. It wasn’t as though Steph had a leg to stand on when it came to inappropriate colours for costumes, considering that she was wearing eggplant and green these days.

As the chase went on, Steph was getting to the point where she knew she either needed to do something incredibly risky and spectacular to catch Batgirl or her lungs were going to give out on her. Her options for crazy manoeuvres were somewhat limited, though, and given that she’d already used up the good grace of being saved to tag Batgirl, she doubted that would work again.

Scanning the area, Steph looked for something that might give her an advantage in the game, and her eyes alighted upon a small pile of bricks stacked up for a makeshift stove. Diverting slightly, she ran past the pile and picked up one of the bricks, the weight of it comforting in her hand. She had such fond memories of using them and she was sure it wouldn’t fail her.

Still running she gauged the distance between herself and the fleeing Batgirl carefully, running through in her head where to aim for and when best to throw. She picked her moment carefully, and just before Batgirl made to leap across another gap, Steph hucked the brick at her.

Steph had had years of practice throwing things, not being particularly tough meant that she’d gotten very good at hurling stones at bullies. If her father hadn’t been such a dick, she could have easily been a decent player in a little league. Alas, it was not to be, but it was paying off now as the brick flew fast and true and struck Batgirl square in the back.

As good as Batgirl was, not even she could change direction in mid-air, and the brick made a solid thumping sound on impact. Steph doubted that it actually hurt Batgirl through her padding and armour. Besides, she’d seen Batgirl shrug off getting shot before, so a brick to the back was pretty much nothing.

It did throw her off her stride just a little, though, and she had to roll to recover. It was all Steph needed though to close the distance between them and she flew over the gap herself as she prepared to tag Batgirl.

She wasn’t quite fast enough, though, as Batgirl sprang to her feet and kept running, her pace barely affected by getting hit with a brick. Still, it was better than nothing, and Steph was so close now, she could almost feel Batgirl’s cape between her fingers.

Now wasn’t the time to play things safe, now was the time to do something crazy, and hopefully it would throw Batgirl off enough that she could catch her.

“Hey, Batgirl! DId I mention that Eddie’s got a big heist planned for next month?” Steph called out, just shouting out the first thing that came to mind. She didn’t expect it to actually work, but to her surprise, it did seem to catch Batgirl off guard, and the heroine turned around.

Steph was so surprised that she wasn’t able to arrest her momentum and she ended up stumbling into and bowling into Batgirl. Crashing into the muscular heroine felt pretty similar to hitting a rock, but somehow the inadvertent tackle ended up sending them both tumbling to the rooftop.

“Oof!” Steph grunted as the wind was knocked out of her as she landed on top of Batgirl. Groaning a little, she lifted herself up onto her hands and looked down at her friend. “Are you okay? Sorry, I didn’t think that would go like this.”

“Am fine.” Batgirl said, and for a brief moment, Steph was pretty that she heard an odd hitch in her voice. It was at that point she realised just how close she and Batgirl were, what with their bodies pressed together with Steph still mostly lying on top of her friend.

Even through all the padding and armouring, Steph could feel how solid and muscular Batgirl’s body was, and she was immediately reminded of how nice the heroine’s butt was. She hadn’t seen much of what Batgirl looked like underneath the costume aside from her lower jaw when she was eating, but just feeling her like this made her wonder what the rest of her was like, and most importantly, whether she had abs.

Biting her lip, Steph couldn’t help but just grind her body against Batigirl’s, for purely platonic reasons, of course. She barely moved an inch before she was pushed off and onto her ass and Batgirl had hopped to her feet.

“Wait, sorry, I didn’t mean-.” Steph tried to apologise, but she didn’t manage to complete it before Batgirl vanished out of sight, leaving behind a faint goodbye.

“See you another time.”

Steph sat there on the roof watching the spot where Batgirl had vanished. Then, slowly she got back to her feet and brushed herself off.

She certainly hadn’t expected rooftop tag to end quite like that, but she wasn’t exactly unhappy with it. She did wish that Batgirl hadn’t run off like that and she cursed her stupidity as well as her lack of control. She’d decided that she wasn’t going to follow The Riddler’s advice, but she just couldn’t help but find Batgirl attractive.

Still mentally kicking herself, Steph started to walk back towards the apartment and her room. She needed to get some sleep so she could finish her work on the condiment gun and complete the challenge her boss had set her.

Her life was far too busy and complicated to dwell upon this fleeting attraction towards the heroine who was somewhere between her friend and enemy. She was starting to regret deciding to cultivate her relationship with Batgirl just a little, it only made things more complicated, and Steph had the nasty feeling that this was only the beginning of the complications in her life.

Chapter Text

“And done!” Steph declared as the car’s engine roared to life. It may have taken her the better part of the afternoon to get into this one, but the hard work had finally paid off. The actual breaking into the car and starting it had been pretty quick in and of itself, it had been working it out that had taken the vast majority of the time.

The Riddler had stuck to his guns with his new teaching method and refused to give Steph any hints on how to progress. She was at least a little pleased that he’d paid for it in some small way by being bored out of his skull just watching her try and fail to get in.

Eventually, he’d left her to her own devices and gone back upstairs to attend to other ‘business’. Steph wasn’t sure what constituted ‘business’ for her boss, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to either.

Perhaps it was foolish for her to continue to keep his criminal activities at arm’s length given she was supposed to be his apprentice, but given the alternative was just throwing herself fully into villainy, she didn’t really have much of a choice.

She honestly could not think of anyone who was in a similar situation to her, former heroes who’d turned to supervillainy. Sure, there were plenty of villains who’d made a heel-face-turn, just stopped being villains or just delicately trod the line between the two. It probably made for good pro-hero propaganda to tout former evildoers as having changed their ways, whilst heroes going bad would undermine that pretty severely.

Suffice it to say, she was forging her own path and that just added to the difficulty of it all. Just standing around in a basement full of stolen cars wasn’t going to help much though, so Steph tossed her borrowed tools into the toolbox and headed over to the elevator to inform her boss of her success.

As it rattled its way up to the office floor, Steph wondered what he’d be getting her to do next. She really hoped that it wasn’t going to be more breaking into cars, that was starting to get rather tiresome. A small part of her actually hoped that it wouldn’t be more training and instead they’d be doing another heist.

It was a strange feeling, to actually want to engage in crime despite her reticence to be a criminal. Even though the last one they’d been on hadn’t gone all according to plan, that first auction robbery she’d joined in on had tickled that thrill she was missing now that she wasn’t going out to fight crime on a nightly basis.

The elevator came to a halt and Steph stepped out and headed into the office where she found Diedre slouched at the secretary’s desk playing some game on her phone.

“Hi, D. Is green and grumpy in?”

“He is, emphasis on the grumpy part too.”

“I really hope it’s not because I was taking too long with the cars.” Steph chewed at her bottom lip as she looked over at the door. She couldn’t hear any noise from the other side, but The Riddler’s rage wasn’t always loud.

“Nah, it’s nothing you’ve done. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about something, though, so I wouldn’t hang around in there for too long.”

“Thanks, D.”

Diedre shot Steph a thumbs up before returning her attention to her game. Straightening herself out, Steph squared her shoulders and approached the door, knocking on it before entering. As was expected, The Riddler was seated behind his desk with his gaze fixed on his computer, barely looking up to acknowledge Steph’s entry. He didn’t look very pleased, but as a connoisseur of angry expressions thanks to her father, Steph could tell it was more of a quiet seethe than explosive rage.

“I’m finished with the cars. Thought you’d like to know.”

“I noticed.”

“How? Wait, stupid question. You’ve got CCTV hooked up in the building, haven’t you?”

“Naturally.”

“Any reason you didn’t come down to see?”

“I’ve been busy with research.” Riddler’s scowl deepened as he scrolled down a page. “Tell me, Miss Brown, have you ever played any puzzle games before?”

“What do you mean, exactly? Video games that are like collections of sudoku? Or more like platformers with a puzzle element to them?”

“The former more than the latter, though not necessarily limited to just one type of puzzle.”

“I’ve played a few. Helps to keep myself from getting bored during class.”

“Then I assume you are familiar with the ‘Doctor Sphinx’ series?”

“I’ve heard of them, I haven’t played any of them, though. I think there’s supposed to be a new one coming out soon, right?” Steph raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m rather fond of such puzzle games, even if they pose no challenge to an intellect such as mine. You can imagine my surprise when I saw an early gameplay video of the upcoming entry in the series and saw that several of my riddles were there.”

It took Steph a moment to process the information that The Riddler of all people watched people play video games on the internet. Once she’d adjusted to this new paradigm she just had to ask a few questions.

“And how do you know that they’re yours?”

“Because I devised them, obviously. For as much as I am forced to rely upon trite and commonly known puzzles, I create a great many myself.”

“Right, so they’re using riddles that you created in their new game. What’s the problem? I’d have thought you’d be glad to have your work reach a wider audience than Batman and the rest.”

“Well, of course that’s not the problem. The problem is that they have used my work without any sort of attribution. There is no acknowledgement that these ingenious brain teasers were created by yours truly.” The foul look on The Riddler’s face grew darker. “And even worse than that, it’s lazy! Clearly, whoever has been creating the puzzles for this series has been capable of creating them on their own. To steal the work of a greater intellect is the height of laziness!”

“Okay… Are riddles something you can copyright? Is there a case for plagiarism?” Steph asked, unsure of what compensation he was expecting or if he even needed it. He had more than enough money, this was definitely more about the principle of the matter to him than the money.

“That’s not the point, Miss Brown,” The Riddler sighed, giving her a withering look. “Whether it is or is not is beside the point. I am a rogue, and we do not go through such channels, even if they were available.”

“So what are you going to do, then?” Steph should have expected that he wouldn’t try for a more normal approach to solving this. Now she was rather worried to find out to what extremes he was willing to go to soothe his bruised ego.

“Currently, I don’t know. I’m still looking into who’s behind the game’s creation,” The Riddler scowled and returned his full attention to his computer. “In something of a stroke of good luck, however, the company is based here in Gotham, so any reprisals will be easy to execute.”

“I guess you haven’t got anything new for me to work on, then. Sounds like you’re going to be pretty busy with this,” Steph said wryly, hoping that the usage of the word ‘execute’ wasn’t indicative of said reprisals.

“Yes, I’m afraid that this will require most of my attention for the time being. Feel free to leave early today, I shall contact you when I need you.”

“Sure. Good luck with your dev hunting.”

“I do not need luck. Luck is for the intellectually underdeveloped,” The Riddler sneered dismissively. “The thought is appreciated, however.”

Steph couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter at the lip service he paid to good manners before leaving the office. That hadn’t been nearly as bad as Diedre had made it out to be, though admittedly, she was a little nervous about what exactly The Riddler was going to do once he found out who’d stolen his work.

That was something to worry about another time, though. Steph had the rest of the day off and she knew exactly what she was going to do with it. It had taken her a little while to do it, but she was nearly finished with Condiment King’s new and improved cannon. She just needed to put a few finishing touches and it would be ready for delivery and in plenty of time to make the week’s deadline she’d promised.

Waving goodbye to Diedre as she passed, Steph headed downstairs, running through the last couple of modifications she needed to make. Once she was done and had delivered the finished product to the King, she could focus properly on her own weapon. If and when The Riddler found out who was to blame for the use of his riddles, she wanted to be prepared.

“Hello? Mr… King?” Steph called out as she entered the disused factory. It stretched belief a little that there was a conveniently abandoned mustard factory for the Condiment King to set up shop in, but given the surprising number of amusement parks around that the Joker liked to use, she supposed it was just a Gotham thing.

There was no answer, though, and Steph double checked the address she’d been given. She was definitely at the right place, though given she didn’t have a phone number for Condiment King, she hadn’t called ahead. Hopefully he wasn’t a ‘spray first, ask questions’ later kind of villain, she’d rather not have to ask the Riddler who did the Rogues’ dry cleaning.

She didn’t want to venture further into the empty factory, but when there was no answer to her call Steph didn’t have much of a choice. Keeping a careful eye out for condiment-based traps, she made her way into the bowels of the building.

“Hello? Please don’t blast me. I’ve brought your cannon.” She continued to shout as she searched for her ‘client’. There were plenty of boxes still lying around, clearly abandoned after the factory closed down, and curious to see what hadn’t been worth taking, Steph cracked one open.

“Mustard powder?” Steph raised an eyebrow as she retrieved a garish yellow tin and inspected it. It only seemed to be a few years old judging by the expiration date, though she wasn’t sure how long mustard powder usually lasted. She was just about to put it back when she heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked behind her.

“Who dares enter my condiment cave and try to steal from me?” Steph did her best not to scoff at the stupid name as she raised her hands and turned around to face the Condiment King.

“Relax, it’s just me, Teaser. I was calling out for you,” Steph snarked, lowering her hands and planting them on her hips.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you until you started poking around the boxes. Things in our game were getting kind of loud.” The Condiment King gave her a sheepish look as he holstered the handgun-sized condiment weapon. He then took notice of the large sports bag Steph had slung over her shoulder and his eyes widened. “Is that it? You’re done?”

“I am indeed.”

“Yes! Soon those bat fools won’t know what hit them!” He crowed in delight, dancing a little on the spot. “Well don’t just stand there! I want to test it!”

Steph rolled her eyes, but followed Condiment King into the back of the factory. Making their way through several corridors, Steph heard a loud commotion up ahead coming from one of the rooms. It was that room Condiment King led her into, revealing it to be a makeshift base of operations with various surfaces littered with equipment and other crime related items.

The only relatively clear surface in the room was a table in the centre around which sat two other men engaged in a furious argument over the cards before them. Only one appeared to be in costume, but Steph recognised the other from the files Robin had snuck out to her in the past, and much like the Riddler, his three piece suit was his costume.

“You’re a fucking cheater, Fugate!”

“I am no such thing.” The bespectacled Clock King sneered, steepling his fingers. “You just have some very obvious tells. Appropriate given your moniker.”

Signalman’s jaw opened and shut silently a few times before he growled and tossed his cards aside. Slumping back in his chair, he happened to glance over to see Steph and Condiment King enter the room.

“Who’s the girl, Mitch?”

“She calls herself Teaser.”

“The Riddler’s new sidekick?”

“I am not his sidekick!” Steph growled, eyeballing Signalman furiously. It would be very ‘rogue’ of her to make him pay for his remark, but she settled instead for a dark and hopefully threatening look.

“Whatever.” Signalman shrugged unapologetically. “So what’s she doing here?”

“She’s been upgrading my condiment cannon!” He sounded far too pleased for someone who actually owned and used such a weapon but Steph held her tongue. She was hardly in a position to judge considering what she was planning to use as her sidearm.

“You’re kidding me. How the hell did she do that?”

“Um…”

“You know, you could just ask me instead of just ignoring my existence,” Steph said acerbically as she stalked over to a table and dropped the bag onto it. Unzipping it, she hauled out the improved weapon and handed it over to the Condiment King. “There were a couple of ways to improve it, the primary upgrade was to the pump system that pressurises the ammo. Most pumps you’d find are meant for water, so they’re not optimised for pumping something thicker like ketchup.”

“You mean I’ll be able to blast people properly now?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You’ll have a better range on it and less drop off but you won’t be knocking people off their feet or anything.”

“Oh…” Condiment King’s excitement faded a little, but he perked back up again. “It’s still an improvement, though! Can I test it now?”

“Sure, just get the feed tanks on and I’ll hook it up.”

“Great. Hey, Temple, can you and Phil set up some targets for me to shoot at?” He asked, hurrying over to grab his 

“Very well.” Clock King rolled his eyes behind his glasses, but did as he was asked. Whilst that was happening, Steph grabbed some tools out of her bag and got to work attaching the feed tubes from the backpack to the cannon.

It was a quick job, helped by the fact that the connectors were cobbled together from stuff from the hardware store. Once she was satisfied everything was properly attached and there wouldn’t be a catastrophic mustard explosion, she took a step back to admire her handiwork.

Despite it being for a patently stupid device, Steph couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at her handiwork. Of course, the feeling was quickly tempered out as she remembered that her work was going to be used to commit crimes. Ineffective and incredibly stupid crimes, but crimes nonetheless.

“How does it work now?” Steph’s ongoing internal conflict between her current vocation and her morals was interrupted by The Condiment King.

“Pretty much exactly how it did before. Point the business end at what you want to hose down and pull the trigger. It’ll take a couple of seconds at first, since the reservoirs aren’t filled with ammo yet, but once it’s been used there should be no delays.”

“Got it!” Condiment King struck a few poses with the weapon as his associates finished setting up a few wooden pallets and empty bottles for use as targets.

“When I tested it, I was able to get a good 20 feet of range before the spray started to drop off. Continuous stream too,” Steph added as Condiment King lined up his shot and the other two scurried out of the way.

With a manic grin, he pulled the trigger, and after a couple of seconds a blast of ketchup sprayed forth, sending several bottles flying as he hosed them down.

“Wow, that is a lot better than it was before!” He laughed, letting the trigger go and admiring his handiwork. “I never got accuracy like that from this range.”

“Of course. That’s what the increased pressure will do.”

“Is that all you did? Because it sounds to me as though Mitch could have done the same thing with a better pump,” Signalman commented snidely from the side.

“Of course not. You think I’d just replace the pump?” Steph shot the man a withering look. “If you check the side, you’ll find a dial. It switches between which reservoir you’re firing from.”

“Awesome!” The Condiment King gleefully clicked the knob and fired off a few squirts of mustard.

“Also, I realised that the hose connecting the gun to the tanks on your back is a weak point so I added in a backup,” Steph continued to explain, feeling increasingly smug at her engineering. “There’s reservoirs in the cannon itself, so even if the tubes are severed, you’ll still have some left in the tank to fire.”

“Sweet! It’s always so annoying whenever Robin cuts them,” Condiment King grumbled as he continued to examine his upgraded weapon and fired a few more test shots.

With the details of her work on the cannon explained, Steph’s attention wandered a little whilst Condiment King continued to fiddle. Naturally, her eyes fell upon the workbenches and alighted upon what looked like an engineering project of the King’s own.

Curiosity piqued, Steph wandered over to look at what he’d been working on. Much like the cannon it was mostly cobbled-together bits of scrap and easily acquired parts so it took Steph to work out what the device’s intended purpose was.

“Have you been trying to make condiment bombs?”

“Oh yeah! I figured, if I was getting an upgraded cannon I should try to upgrade the rest of my arsenal too.”

“Did you have bombs before?”

“Well no. But I figured it couldn’t be too hard to make them.” Condiment King frowned as he walked over to pick up one of the roughly spherical devices.

“So I assume they’re just going to spray out mustard or something?” Steph asked, picking up one of her own to examine closer. “Are they supposed to function like oil slicks?”

“No, they were supposed to just spray everyone in the vicinity, but I couldn’t get nearly enough force.”

“I’m not surprised. Not with this small of a capsule.” Steph’s mind was already awhirl with ideas for how to create a condiment themed grenade. As she ran through the options in her head, it came to her like a bolt from the blue and she’d seen the exact substance she needed to make it work.

“Can you grab me some mustard powder?”

“Um, yeah sure. Just a sec” As the Condiment King wandered off to grab some mustard powder from the factory floor, Steph pulled out some more tools and bits from her bag, looking for one thing in particular.

“So why are you helping Mitch out, huh?” Her search was interrupted by Signalman’s grating voice and she did her best to ignore him. “I know he can’t pay you, he had to borrow money from us for our game.”

“Indeed. Perhaps you’re actually working on behalf of the Riddler? Seeking to ingratiate yourself with other rogues to take them down.”

“Do you really think the Riddler would go to such lengths to sabotage someone like the Condiment King?” Steph raised her eyebrows before realising that the effect was lost somewhat owing to her mask. “No offence to him or you, but you’re not exactly high on the pecking order, and even if you were, the Riddler wouldn’t bother with trying to sabotage you. He’d still think you were below him along with the rest of the world.”

“A valid point.” Clock King nodded thoughtfully. “So why are you helping Mitchell?”

“Just trying to establish myself in the community. I may work for the Riddler, but he’s not my keeper. I figured if I did some work for Condiment King, it might get around that I’m an engineer who can work on gear.” Steph shrugged. Her attention wasn’t really focused on Clock King or Signalman, her mind was still busy working on the engineering problem presented to her.

Any further questioning of Steph and her intentions were stymied by the return of the Condiment King bearing several tins of mustard powder.

“Will this do?”

“Yes, thank you.” Steph grabbed one of the tins and opened it up. “I’m going to need a lighter. Can I borrow one?”

There was a short silence before Signalman started to grumble incoherently as he pulled out a cheap plastic lighter and tossed it to her.

“Thank you. Now then. You won’t be able to get enough power into such a small device to expel liquid mustard. However, you can fit in something that will propel something like this mustard powder.”

With that explanation out of the way, Steph placed the nozzle of the canister of compressed air she’d gotten out of her bag in the tin. Holding it far away from her face, she pressed the top, sending a cloud of mustard powder bursting out of the small container.

“I don’t need to tell you that mustard powder would be an irritant to eyes and other mucosal membranes.” Steph continued her explanation as she set the tin and canister down and took a few steps back as the powder started to drift down and settle. “However, if you have a large amount of dust hanging in the air like this, you can do this to it.”

Taking the lighter she’d been provided, Steph lit it and tossed it into the cloud. With a ‘fwoosh’ and a burst of heat, it ignited in a sudden burst of flame. It was gone almost as quickly as it came, but Steph was pretty sure it sufficed as a good demonstration of the principle.

“If you just attach something to make a spark right after the powder is ejected, you should have quite a good fireball on your hands.” Steph concluded the demonstration with a smirk as she turned to face the other three. 

“That. Is. Brilliant!” Condiment King clapped his hands together in excitement, an ecstatic grin growing on his face. “I can do so much with this. The bats won’t know what’s hit them!”

Steph had been flying high and feeling rather proud of herself demonstrating an admittedly simple scientific concept and having sold the problem. Condiment King’s mention of the bats brought her right back down to Earth though. She’d been so wrapped up in the solving of the problem that she’d forgotten the application it would be used for.

“Anyway, I’m sure you can work out the rest of the details from here. I really should be going,” Steph mumbled, hastily packing up her tools and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Wait, before you go,” Condiment called over to her just as she turned to leave. “I, um, can’t exactly pay you for the work you did on my cannon right now.”

He winced sheepishly whilst Signalman and Clock King looked on disapprovingly.

“Told ya.”

“I can pay you later, though. Once I use this new cannon and these mustard bombs, I can get all the funds I need to pay you for the work.”

“You don’t need to pay me. Just let people know who did the work for you. Not the bats, of course.” An uncomfortable knot twisted in Steph’s stomach, but she forced it down in favour of slapping on a smile.

“Oh sure. I can do that easy.” Condiment King nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks again for the work.”

“No problem.” Turning on her heel, Steph left the room. Her confident smile dropped the moment she was out of sight. The reality of what she was doing was really starting to hit her now. She’d gone out of her way to independently hire herself out as an arms manufacturer for Gotham’s rogues and was now trying to advertise her services.

This was not a turn she expected things to take,. and it was still making her feel awkward. If she were being sensible about it all, maybe she’d have spent some time thinking it through and whether she was going to continue with this line of work outside of her activities with the Riddler.

Instead of that, however, she had a better idea, namely ignoring it in favour of thinking about engineering and her glue gun. She could think that through another time, besides it might not actually go anywhere. All she’d done was make a better Condiment Cannon, hardly a groundbreaking development.

She was probably worrying about it too much. This was probably going to be it for her sideline as a weapons engineer for other criminals. With that self-assurance, Steph turned her thoughts back to her own weapon and the challenges its construction were posing. She had the rest of the day free and plenty of time to keep working on it so that was exactly what she was going to do.