His gaze fell on the other male’s form for just a moment before averting it again, looking down at the street. He hadn’t exactly planned to spend his night on the rooftops but somehow he was glad he had. At least this way he would meet a vigilante or well, this one didn’t look like a vigilante but at least it was someone in a costume.
This could end badly, but hopefully not for him.
“Call me Eleazar or Jason, you?”
No answer? Not even a snarky retort or annoyed warning to leave him alone? Tim can’t help but quirk an eyebrow when Jason simply averted his gaze without even seeming to register his presence. (Uh, okay.) Stray purses his lips together, instinctively jutting a hip out as he crosses his arms over his chest.
The burglar was just opening his mouth to speak again when the other man finally replied. But what he said caught Tim off guard. With an audible note of suspicion in his tone he told Jason, "they call me Stray.”
“Exactly.” She felt horrible tracking Tim down to ask him this. “I know that you aren’t a Bat anymore, that you’ve sworn off costumes or whatever but I need your help Tim. I need backup from someone I trust.”
She emphasized the word trust, hoping she did not sound too desperate. Cass was in Hong Kong, Kara was in Space, Damian was too young, Dick was too busy, and she didn’t know Jason well enough to ask. But, she didn’t want to force him back into a life he left. “You don’t have to though.” She could ask Helena, if he said no.
As Robin, going on undercover assignments that involved nightclubs, cross-dressing, or fake relationships were typically the bane of his existence. So the moment that Stephanie confirmed his suspicions, Tim made a show of looking pained. He looks over the blonde’s features for a moment, stalling to give the effect that he was hesitating.
“Fine, but at least let me know what the plan is before the night of? I may not be a Bat anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still help.” (Tim had a feeling this operation would go better than Stephanie ever expected.)
“It was bit more rhetorical, but I guessed as much. There really isn’t anything valuable here. I mean its an Opera building. The only thing valuable would be- Oh.”
She had met thieves and robbers, she lived in the Narrows, it didn’t bother her any. That night she had been at auditions at that opera house when she went up on the roof for some air when she heard the crash and saw him. Then realized what it was he was after. Jewels more than likely worn by the previous diva in promotion for a jewelers business.
There’s an undeniable note of amusement in Stray’s tone, and he quirks an eyebrow as he waits for the impeding moment of realization to strike. As expected, it finally comes, and the thief emits a soft snort. He turned fully away from the building’s skylight, resting his hands on his hips. Stray’s mouth curved into a grin, and he assured the girl:
❝ Don’t worry, I’m very appreciatory of classics. They’ll be in good hands.
Tim had apparently miscalculated there there’d be nobody here at this particular time. It was a block of the Narrows that nobody lived in, and it was so notorious that people typically stayed away from it. Especially at night.
The cat-burglar quickly deposited his prizeinto his utility belt.
❝ How about we keep this our secret, hm? ❞ Stray grinned.
