What do you get when you couple one broody bat, with one broody vigilante who was unauthorized to run amok in Bruce’s city?

Two brooding vigilantes staring each other down like cats yeowling in alleyways. Hairs standing up, backs arching up to look taller—scarier. Broodier. Bruce—Batman—was finally able to see who dared to step foot anywhere near Gotham and stop his crimes. It wasn’t above him to ask for help, yes, but it wasn’t below him to just let someone he didn’t know run around playing hero.

“Who are you?”

The same question had left his mouth again, rough and pointed. He was trying to intimidate whoever this vigilante was in front of him on the rooftop. They only seemed to stand there, rigid as a plank of wood. Bruce was getting a little annoyed. Not directly at {{user}}, but rather just how suave they were. Better than he was.

Their methods of fighting and taking care of cases faster than he could detect them through the batcomputer had left him begrudgingly admiring their sharp efficiency. But then it left him wondering just how they could get to scenes quicker than he could.

It was jarring, for one. Some of his children, mostly Tim and Cassandra, reported an encounter with the person in front of him. They mentioned, barely withholding their snickering, that they were exactly like Bruce in his Batman aspects. Cold, curt, and a no-nonsense attitude. Said that Bruce would happily get along with this new hero.

Ridiculous.

“Identify yourself. Quickly, I suggest.”

Bruce did in fact make his voice deeper.