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Tim watched Bruce drop Damian off at the White Collar office.
Peter looked redder than Doritos. Strange comparison.
“Mr Wayne. Why are you dropping your kid off here?”
“Hm, Burke I have more important things to do. Take him, just take him.” Bruce said, sprinting down the steps.
“How did you even get in-“
-
“So. What do we do with the kid? Kid? Wanna go to the uhm, what do kids do.. playground?” Peter cringed, crouching down to Damian’s level.
“How typical-“ Tim rushed to cover Damian’s mouth as he fought and attacked Tim. At least he didn’t lick his hand like Dick did. He bit it though.
“Stop moving! I’ll take him, I’m good with kids. I was a undercover as a butler once, and they had like fifteen kids. Allegedly of course.” Tim sent a blinding smile to the older man, causing him to groan in frustration and send him a suspicious look.
“Damian, you cannot blow my cover. Why did B even send you here?” Tim hissed. Damian writhed out of his grasp, sending a deathly glare at him.
“How have these fools not recognized you? Your popularity is second to only Grayson and Father.” Tim slapped his forehead.
“Thats because I’m popular in Gotham, and not as recognizable in New York you prat!” “Well, you are famously considered as an idiot in all locations.” Damian snarled. Peter cleared his throat.
“Ahem, before Mr Wayne so kindly interrupted us, as I was saying, Neal, you’ll be accompanying me to a mission. Leave the kid.” Tim helplessly watched Damian send a heated glare at Peter.
“Yeah. Stay here!” Tim clapped, sending Damian a look that very clearly said ‘hey listen to me right now before I call Alfred and tell him about your hidden injury.’
“And stop beefing with my handler,” he added.
Damian, the little shit ignored it. He was so ratting on him later.
“I will be accompanying you. There is no debate on this topic. I will. Be. Accompanying you.” Tim pulled Damian aside nervously.
“Fine. But you can’t interfere with the mission. Neal, take care of him.” Before Tim could protest, Peter was already out of the door. Tim tugged on Damian’s arm as the latter argued, attracting unwanted attention from nearby colleagues.
“Shut up! Go in the elevator for gods sake!” Tim-as-Neal uncharacteristically pushed Damian into the elevator, receiving confused looks from his colleagues.
Damian and Tim argued all the way until they reached the van.
“No, the tomato pasta’s better!” Tim exclaimed, desperately grabbing onto his hair.
“No, Alfredo is better Caffrey.” Damian rebutted, shoving Tim into the van.
“Hey!” Tim stopped himself from hurling vulgarities just in time for Peter to send him a reprimanding look.
-
“So I guess the crime was cyber? And physical? It was a cyber hacking crime that led to manipulative murder.” Tim looked at the detective as he sighed and rubbed his eyes. Poor man was exhausted. Finally, some peace and quiet, oh there Damian was out from his cage.
“Couldn’t Caffrey help?” Prick. Tim internally laughed as Peter jumped in surprise.
“Shouldn’t you be in the van? How did you even-?”
“Shouldn’t Des-Caffrey be working on this case?” Desmond? Really? At least he covered ‘Drake’ up fast. Tim was done for.
“I’m just a CI Damian. I’m not qualified for this.” Damian. Stop pressing.
“But your a detective Caffrey.” He wasn’t even trying, but his face was that of complete confusion. Had really no one told him?
“I’m not, Damian. I’m a con man. I think you might be confusing me with someone else.” Finally, some sort of realization passed by the kid’s eyes; which were dilated. Concussion, of course. No wonder he had been so slow to catch on. He’d treat that later.
“So. Wanna try? Please, we’re desperate for anything,” The detective begged.
“No-“ Tim started.
“Do it. For the detective.” Peter was sending him a challenging look. Tim sighed and grabbed the case, looking through it. Fairly easy. The hacker had layered on a uncountable number of codes to confuse them, but there were only a few difficult firewalls to get through. Tim could’ve done it in seconds. The murder was of a middle-aged wife, the husband being the prime suspect. He wasn’t. An external source then, more family or friends with ill intentions?
Ah, it was the sister and best friend, a two person job. Their stories seemed carefully planned and plotted to seem like the same story; but Tim saw the flaws.
“So?” The detective hopefully pleaded. Tim internally sighed. On one hand, he could potentially ruin his undercover mission by helping them or leave them to waste days or even weeks trying to solve this.
He chose the first and explained it all to the detective, sending anxious glances towards Damian, who Tim would’ve assumed looked smug but was proud.
Yeah, he was definitely concussed.
“Neal. Were you ever going to tell me you were a master detective?” Peter cocked his head expectantly.
“What! Noooo. That wasn’t even a hard case!” Tim shook his hands.
The detective came running back to thank Tim.
“Thank you! My goodness, that was such a difficult case to solve. Ever think about joining us? No? Okay, thank you so much again. Really loving the work you do in Gotham.”
“Your from there?” Tim stuttered.
“Born and raised! Thank you so much again Mr Drake!” The detective waved and ran off. Tim swore his heart stopped.
“Mr Drake huh?” Peter sent a skeptical look at Tim.
Tim just grabbed Damian’s hand and ran. He was late for a meeting with Steph and Cass anyways.
“And you,” Tim stated as he turned to Damian, “Your gonna get help for that concussion.”
“I do not have a concussion Timothy.”
Tim stopped.
“Did you just call me Timothy?” Tim grabbed Damian’s arm and got into the nearest taxi as Damian spluttered.
“Okay, you definitely have a concussion.”