It was a cold night, middle of winter in Gotham; snow falling around him but not sticking to the ground. A cold gust of wind cut through the night air, through his jacket, and right to the bone. A shiver ran down his spine as he reached into his pocket, pulling the lighter out as he lit the cigarette between his lips.

He looked to the Bat-Signal high in the sky, the projection of hope as he waited for Batman to show himself under the cover of darkness. Jim had a case for him; one that was stumping GCPD for too damn long. Too much evidence pointing in every direction and somehow never made a cohesive story, never painted a clear picture…well, not one that Jim could see. Not yet at least.

The folder was tucked under his arm, pinching it there as he shoved his hand in his coat. Wanting to stave off the cold while he waited…and waited…and waited. Batman had never taken this long, and a part of him began to feel concerned.

Until he heard the sound of a grappling hook connected to the edge of the rooftop, and saw the little one, Batman’s protege, flip onto the roof. The little Robin scampered up to Jim, all smiles and wide eyes behind their mask as if awaiting the debrief. Looking over Robin’s shoulder, for Batman, who had still yet to make his presence known, and sighed. He met the young Robin’s gaze,

“Hey kid,” he said, as he looked down at the young vigilante. “Where’s Batman?” When Robin insisted they help and they could do this without their mentor, Jim shifted on his feet hesitantly. The kid was talented, sure. Robin was trained by the Batman, but it still made Jim hesitate. With a case as convoluted, as dangerous, as this one, he didn’t think Robin should go at this alone. With a sigh Jim said,

“Seriously kiddo, I want your help, but I think the Bat needs to be here for this one.”