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When it came to patrols, Stephanie Brown considered tonight’s to be a little bit underwhelming. Of course, every crook down is a win, but being Robin kind of invites the hope that every night is an adventure.
Then again, this was only her eighth day. And she was going against a costumed bad guy. Technically, against Batman’s orders to wait and watch.
Robin felt her back thud against the stone pillar on the roof. Honestly, when she heard of a guy called Firefly, she thought he might be easy pickings. But everyone knows how to throw a punch…
Still stings like hell.
Smooth going, Stephanie. Run off against orders and get your ass trounced. Might as well start taking off the costume and start walking home.
In a blur, Batman arrived, his voice sharp.
”Move!”
Not calling me Robin. I’m not there yet. Emphasis on the yet.
He ran ahead of the current of flame, then does an actual backflip to dodge, tossing a batarang with perfect precision to jam the gun and make it explode in Firefly’s hands.
Enamoured, Robin speaks in an awed whisper.
”So cool.”
Finally getting to her feet, Robin reaches around for one of her own projectiles. Is it still a batarang? Or a Robin-rang? Whatever the name is, she throws it, intended to hit the jet pack to keep the arsonist from making his fiery getaway.
It instead hit his shoulder, earning him one hard punch in his mask-face before dropping some kind of smoke bomb and charging away.
Not a great night. Bad guy got away, and Robin missed her shot. Stephanie watched Batman turn and tell her that they were done here.
She Chose to focus about how Batman said “they,” implying that they were a pair, to mean that she wasn’t getting fired.
Stephanie folded her arms in the Batmobile, the colours of her Robin suit feeling nowhere near as bright as before. Her usual energy was dimmed by failure.
“Firefly got away, but I almost had him…”
In this moment, Bruce should dismiss her. She wasn’t ready. Drive back to the cave and tell her. She cannot be Robin. She isn’t Robin.
The words fail him.
“Garfield is trackable. And with his equipment damaged, he’ll need time to build.”
A scoff.
“So, what, a win is a win?”
“No. You should have waited for my order.”
The Batmobile began to race across the rain-slicked streets of Gotham City. Stephanie, Robin, no, yes.
The girl beside Batman glanced at him.
“You know, um… I thought that backflip you did to dodge the flamethrower was pretty cool. And the batarang was too…”
Talking to fill the silence. Stephanie’s tactic. She talked in the patrol too. It made Bruce remember other times. Past times.
Good times. He misses them.
He shouldn’t say anything. But he does. His eyes don’t meet the girl, but his voice speaks to Robin.
“It was just training. Experience.”
They turn the corner.
“Think I’ll be able to do that one day?”
One day. In the future. One day in the unknown afterwards.
“With lots of training, perhaps.”
”But, like, how much? You can’t just leave me hanging, Batman.”
“More than you have now.”
”A week? I bet it’s a week.”
”No.”
“Three weeks? No, wait, three and a half, the half is for the batarang toss, I’ve got it.”
Batman opens his mouth to say something again, before he understands this is a game. A back and forth between them, to lighten the mood.
Part of him wants to engage. But getting too close is inadvisable. Too close and he becomes lax.
”I don’t know, Stephanie. That is all I can say on the matter.”
The girl wonder deflates, watching out the window. Silence returns to the car. Eerie, yet welcome silence. Stephanie only sighs at times, makes small noises as she adjusts her gloves.
When they arrive back at the cave and Stephanie says she’s going for a shower, Bruce can’t stop himself.
”Don’t practice it in the shower, it’s slippery,” he requested with the sternness of a teacher anticipating certain behaviour.
”I wasn’t!” Robin called back with a halfway offended and halfway amused tone.
Stephanie has differences to the last Robins. She was already an independent crime fighter beforehand, making the partnership between Batman and Robin something that needed to be worked on. She was trained, but not in Batman’s way. Her attitude was… unique and familiar in a way that almost made Bruce want to indulge her.
He couldn’t. If she was going to be Robin, Stephanie would need to adjust. To learn. To follow orders.
Alone again, Bruce made a quick beeline to the bat-computer. He had work to do, he couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t get too used to this.
Not after only eight days.