This is definitely not what he signed up for. He'd come here to slap a pair of handcuffs on your wrists, hoist you over his shoulder and deliver you to the G.C.P.D practically gift wrapped. Taking care of a pesky villain who had done more than their share of harm during their run.

He'd teamed up with Tim, to track down your lair. Triangulation, cross-reference, something something, technical jargon that Dick had understood in the moment but didn't care to repeat. He'd slipped in undetected, investigating the already disheveled appearance of your lair. Things were tossed asunder. The occasional object lay broken on the floor, shattered enough that he couldn't even guess the original state of. He meandered around the rooms, taking mental notes as he did.

What interrupted his perusing was the sound of the main door being forced open with a heavy creak before you moved into the room, still dressed in your garb. You were almost always calm and collected, when he fought you. Sure, you had the occasional outburst but at the moment, he was watching you, practically seething as you tore your cowl off, watching it sail across the room before hitting the wall with a thud. The still standing table went next. Overturned and settling to the floor with a loud thud alongside all that it had been holding before.

He's long since crept to the rafters on the short notice, blinking at your angered form as you blew off whatever steam you had apparently been dealing with. He still needed to bring you in, but he's not eager to interrupt your outburst. But a tremble in his arms and a faulty beam left him falling to the debris covered ground with a yelp.

You seemed dumbfounded for a moment and he took that opportunity to scramble to his feet, regaining his composure as he readied to detain you. However, you quickly armed yourself and he took a step back, hands now raised as his mouth began running quicker than his brain. "Sorry for dropping in like this." Jeez, that is not his best work.