𝙾𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙻𝙴

" why is my name in the newspaper, or why did you choose to read it? " in part a temporary distraction, evasive measure to step around just why he'd been printed out onto the morning headline. he failed to deliver occasional sarcasm, his tone pushing for something more innocent. like she would ever buy it, he watched her expression through the rising steam of the teacups between them. just as wondering, preparing for his answer. back remained straight as he rose percaline to thinned lips.

the headline glares at them from every angle. faces at the nearby tables hidden behind their papers, eyes greedily taking in every morsel of information. most of it false, she would presume, these tabloids never quite seem to get it all correct. and yet, if you know how to read between the lines, they can be quite useful sources of information. ❝ oh, i always read the morning paper. ❞ lips turn up in a smirk as she brings her cup to take a sip. the liquid not quite cool enough to not leave a slight burn on the skin of her tongue. how annoying. still, her features don't betray a hint of the feeling. ❝ it's the best way to keep up with what's happening in the world. ❞

she catches a few eyes looking their way. ah, so they're starting to catch on. ❝ you should be careful. the general public are not only a fickle lot, but they like to get in the way. ❞ she hears a murmur behind them. whispers being shared across a table of tea and cake. gazes darting their way and back. there will be more of this to come, no doubt. but for all their flaws, the general public might also be their greatest resource. they can never quite seem to keep their mouth shout. ❝ they'll want answers. ❞ gaze snaps to sherlock's, daring him to meet her eye. she's never known the man to fail. to let his prey evade him. ❝ and i'll admit, so do i. ❞

"i get it, barbara. i really do." in a way, they are two sides of a similar coin. both women perform undercover work, and both benefit a more public figure or organization without the direct, named recognition of their faces tied to their actions. while someone else goes out and performs the physical actions, they remain in safe places behind a desk, at computers filled with knowledge and camera feeds projected on screen. it's nice to look at the news and see the positive results of their assistance — as emily watches the news story, eyes skimming the lower third and the ticker traveling across the bottom of the screen, she imagines how much @ioracle contributed to this victory. batman saved a dozen citizens — a few children, too, young lives who can now credit their safety to the batman... and his brilliant friend in the clocktower. what does that feel like for her? does it motivate her to work harder? spend more time at the computer? does it make all the long nights worth it?

emily looks upwards, towards the screen above their heads, but barbara's gaze turns to those around them. despite the early hours, the diner is packed with people enjoying coffee, pancakes, waffles, and all sorts of breakfasts. those from all walks of life - youths ending a night of dancing, those finishing their night shifts soon to return home to bed, the early risers enjoying some time before work. eyes all turned to the report. all with some flavour of awe in their eye at the symbol of the bat. some might even have been saved by him before. or have a friend, parent, lover who has been. everyone in gotham has had their lives touched by batman in some way. and, she supposes, probably by oracle, too.

❝ yeah - ❞ gaze turns to emily. the awe in her eye directed only towards barbara. not to a mask or a symbol, but the woman in the shadowed by it all. it feels almost . . intimate. a blush creeps up her neck and settles on the skin of her cheeks. she doesn't do it for recognition, never has, but it's still nice. ❝ yeah. i think you might be right. i was meant to do this. ❞ her hands reach out to take emily's. their heads leaning so close that their foreheads are almost touching. to those around them they merely seem like two young lovers sharing a moment, they could never know the secret kept so closely between them. ❝ you know, you're pretty incredible, too. for the work you do . . for being so cool with the work i do. i love you, emily. a hell of a lot, actually. ❞

she wishes she had her computer. fingers itch to search for any and all information she can find on this vulture person. to see if logic can find the missing link between him, penguin, and the building in front of them. but there's no space for a computer on the front line. no little device that can be sown into the lining of her suit. batman would radio to penny-one, who would be ready and waiting at the batcomputer. not an option. batman would certainly realise she's disobeyed direct orders if she was to do that. ears perk, a high pitched wailing breaking through her thoughts.

❝ it's an alarm. ❞ lenses flick, covering green eyes once again, as they hone in on the building across from them. it's still dark, seemingly uninhabited, and from what she can tell not the source of the noise. ❝ it's not - ❞ head whirls around suddenly. the beacon behind them, directly beside a door that leads to the rooftop, flashes red. the alarm's coming from the very building they're perched upon. they must have trigged it somehow. which means - ❝ oh fu - ❞ the slamming of the door cuts off her words. what can only be described as a gaggle of henchmen spill out onto the rooftop, each as gnarly looking as the other. lips turn up, underneath her cowl she offers spider-man a wink, before jumping into the fray. adrenaline pumping as fists fly and feet connect with targets. this is what batgirl is trained for. ducking attacks and sending her opponents sprawling. but there's only so many she can fight off on her own. ❝ tag - ❞ she calls over to spider-man, sending a batarang in the direction of the goons giving him trouble. ❝ you're it! ❞

"duly noted. let me just..." squinting, emily finds the expiration date on the pasta sauce, thinks for a minute, and nods with relief. "still good. few more days until this goes bad. we're safe." her smile explodes across her face, painted lips digging into her cheeks as she wanders to barbara's pantry to find pasta. how hard can it be? though some shelves are sparse, others are packed to the brim with ramen and other fast meals. quick things barbara can throw in the microwave and be done with. it makes sense, but it only makes emily want to cook for her more. she deserves a home cooked meal.

wheels cross what little space was between emily and barbara, allowing for hands to take the ingredients and leave them on the counter top. babara's smile only grows as she takes in the slightly shocked expression on her girlfriend's face. alright, so it had been somewhat spur of the moment. perhaps she hadn't been actually planning on asking, but that's only because it seemed unfair to expect emily to pack up her life and move to gotham. but that already being on her mind, a plan potentially in motion, well it made sense. not just that, but barbara wants it. the soft domestic lifestyle. cooking together, squabbling over what to watch on television, troubleshooting each other's pc problems. she wants it desperately.

❝ i'm super serious. ❞ she confirms, linking the fingers of both hands together. ❝ super duper serious, in fact. ❞ hands rise so she can place a gentle kiss on the back of emily's. it's a big deal, she knows that. a huge step in their relationship. still, she can't shake the feeling that it's right. ❝ we've spent too much time apart already. if you're really, truly, serious about moving to gotham then i want you right here with me. ❞ and, sure, maybe the clocktower apartment isn't so much a home as a place to lay a weary head. but they can change that together. make it a space that's the perfect blend of them both. ❝ so . . is that a yes? you'll live with me? ❞

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄 as coded by penny.

it takes every inch of her willpower to contain a groan. oracle knows everything - an expert hacker, information broker, and fighter - and yet even she must admit that some things lay outside her area of expertise. the world of the occult and supernatural is one of them. ❝ please, don't me regret this. ❞ words muttered through gritted teeth. ❝ trust me, i wouldn't ask if i wasn't desperate. so, if you don't mind - ❞ hand gestures to her screens, which detail reports of a new 'haunting'.

❝ oh, i'm not ready to cash in on that particular favour just yet. ❞ her teasing smirk softens into a smile behind the rim of her mug. the sweetness of the hot chocolate, with a slight hint of cinnamon, coats her tongue. it spreads a warmth throughout her body, deeply needed amongst the drafty clocktower. it's walls hiding them from the storm that rages outside, raining slamming against the clockface. ❝ i just thought you might need a friend. ❞ right now she's barbara, not oracle. simply someone who cares deeply about the wellbeing of a friend. who had remembered the circumstance of another's return, told to her in detail by batman, and desperately hoping it had been different for tora. ❝ it must be strange being back. how are you getting on? ❞

"you can’t ... do this for ... me. i won’t ... let you."

redraw of Spice Girls photo