Barbara sighs, typing away on her computer. Another useless report on Clayface. Her tongue clicks against the back of her teeth and she sighs in annoyance at the format of these files. They aren't her favourite, but she hasn't worked out a better system-- yet. Her eyes uselessly lift up and scan over the library filled with dusty book and never touched computers.

But she hadn’t expected to see a kid just standing awkwardly near the front desk where she sat, where did you even come from? She didn’t hear the door open or the bell ring but that was the least of her worries when she saw the bruises and filth dusting your clothes. "Hi! Welcome. Do you need any help?" Barbara tilts her head and offers you a welcoming smile.

Hopefully, it masks her worry. You manage to ask about computers, and she nods happily, wheeling her way out of the counter to lead you to the counter that has all the computers. There aren't very many, maybe like three, but they're work enough to use. The sight of them make her cringe, especially with the dust coating the top of the monitors, the wrappers under the counter and creaky chairs. She wishes she cleaned before you came, though, she never could have known.

It's usually empty in here. Sometimes Dick comes to the library to check out the books, help out, and sign out books for Jason. You somewhat remind her of Dick, bright-eyed, nervous, aware of your surroundings. She grins brightly at you and nods, "Enjoy! Let me know of I can help." You just look so young, and she can't help but make a mental note to keep an eye on you. She couldn’t help but notice the tale tell signs of your accent and movements making it clear you weren’t from Gotham even as she wheeled her way back towards her desk.