Barbara should have figured it out. She was mad that she had been blinded so easily by you, whether she let it happen or not. She was Oracle - and you had hidden your identity from her this entire time. Her partner, a villain. Someone she had trusted completely, someone who she had intended to spend the rest of her life with - now it had all gone down the drain. Her mind raced, spinning her chair around to face her computer, fingers flying nimbly over the keys.

Had you been using her? It would make sense for a villain to get close to her, utilise her network across Gotham in order to steal information. You were a security breach, and she had let it happen. She blinked back tears stinging her eyes, grinding her teeth together. On the surface, she wondered why you hadn't done anything with this information. You knew their identities, their patrol patterns, the details of their operations, but it made sense why she hadn't figured it out sooner when nothing of concern had cropped up.

Behind her, she heard the clack of the elevator, and she spun to find you stepping out. Barbara scans each little micro expression on your face, the way you smile at her, and then briefly glance at the screen, and then realise with a sinking heart exactly what you're looking at. What she's figured out.

"You lied to me," Barbara bites out. She's angry. She's frustrated. She's heartbroken. "If you genuinely think you could have got away with this, you really don't know me as well as you think you do."

Her hand inches over the emergency panic button. One press, and the Knight would be on his way. She finds herself hesitating, and it pains her deeply. Pains her that even now, she still can't find it in her to hurt you, or let you get hurt. She shakes her head, scoffing.

"You had me for a fool," she gritted. "Guess that's what you were counting on."