When Rahn returned to the Batcave a few days later, the atmosphere was colder than usual. She could feel that something was wrong long before she met Bruce's steely gaze. He was sitting at a massive wall of monitors, with his back facing the flickering screens. It seemed as if he had been expecting her. Rahn didn't even want to consider how long he had been waiting there like that, arms crossed and jaw set.

As soon as she was close enough, Bruce shifted his arms and Rahn could see a rolled up newspaper being clutched in his right hand. He slammed it down on the ground and it unfurled like a flower. There was only one picture on the front page, the title reading 'The Emissary and Robin Assault Nightclub Patrons'.

"What the hell is this?" Bruce growled.

"A newspaper."

Bruce gritted his teeth so roughly that Rahn could almost hear it cracking through his jaw. He nodded towards one of the monitors behind him that showed the extravagant layout of the Iceberg Lounge; and the exact moment that one of the guards broke his hand against Rahn's cheek. She then realised that she had misunderstood his question.

"Did you convince Jason to go there?" He reiterated, accusation blaring in his expression.

Rahn hummed, finally able to interpret his outrage, "No. I saw him enter, and watched him. I thought, perhaps, you would like to know why he was there."

This seemed to chip at the irritation radiating from him like poison. He didn't like to admit it, and never would he show it, but Bruce was concerned about Jason. Very slowly, his morals had shifted away from Bruce's. Now they seemed to argue about every criminal they found; about how much was too much.

"Tell me," Bruce finally said, leaning back in his chair and waiting somewhat impatiently for Rahn to speak.

"He was looking for someone called Zsasz."

Recognition hit Bruce's eyes like a midnight shadow. "And did he find him?"

"Apparently he is in Burnside," Rahn replied. She had absorbed enough data on Gotham to know that this was a neighbourhood located across the Gotham River, but she had yet to visit the place, "He did not discover much else."

There was a quiet creaking as Bruce swivelled back around to face the monitors, followed by the tapping of a keyboard as Bruce searched his database for detailed maps of Burnside. He knew every part of Gotham from top to bottom, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.

"Did he leave for Burnside after you left the Iceburg?" Bruce asked, scanning every inch of the map. He wanted to memorise where every street ended, and the placement of every manhole.

"He was injured, actually, so he decided that he would relinquish the case to someone else."

This news made Bruce pause, only briefly, his eyes darting away from the screen and over to Rahn, "How bad?"

"Insignificant. I find it odd that Alfred did not inform you that he had treated him."

Bruce took a deep, deliberate breath. He let it wash away the remnants of worry that had momentarily consumed him.

Rahn finally scooped up the newspaper and flicked through the pages. There wasn't much of interest until she stumbled upon a familiar scene. A photo had been taken of her and Bruce outside of Wayne Manor with the caption 'New Lover?'. Rahn grimaced.

Clearly, Bruce was popular among the females of his species...but he was of no interest to her. Orhysians mated purely to produce stronger offspring than the generation before. His DNA was insignificant; of no use. "I will assist his contact in their search for Victor Zsasz."

Bruce scoffed. "You don't even know what you're looking for."

"Jason is fond of me at the moment, which is more than can be said for you. He will continue to defy you. The only way for you to supervise him currently is through me. If I compromise his trust, I will no longer be able to monitor him."

Bruce furrowed his brow. "I don't need your help."

Rahn replied simply, "You could not keep his uniform from him. I believe that the Small Bird is much more competent than you would care to admit."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the words 'small bird'. It took a full two seconds to deduce that she was talking about Robin, "Don't call him that to his face."

Rahn cocked her head in confusion. She had a difficult time comprehending the wealth of words in the English language that shared meanings. Every robin was a small bird, so naturally, the word should be interchangeable. The specificity of English heavily contrasted with the language spoken on Orhys; it was broader and blunter.

Before she could actually ask him why it mattered, Bruce had enlarged a mugshot on the furthermost left screen. Rahn knew that it was Victor Zsasz due to the plethora of scars that littered his face. He tallied himself with a razor for every person he killed. Rahn found the practice rather interesting, to be honest. It was the mark of a hunter.

"You know who he contacted to complete the case," Rahn stated.

Bruce tapped away on the keyboard and a map appeared on one of the monitors. It was a specific location in Burnside. "She knows the area. Don't tell her I sent you."

Rahn huffed. "Of course not."

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