"Slurp. Ahh."
Brown hair slipped out from beneath Barbara's cowl and spilled over her shoulders, plastered wetly against her body.
No one knew how long she had been lying prone on this rooftop. The aftereffects of the global blizzard still lingered. Though Gotham no longer had snow on the ground, it was far from warm.
After taking a sip of the steaming drink, she let out a contented sound, as though warmth had seeped into both body and soul. She said, "Wait a little longer. The ship has just docked and they're still unloading. We need to wait for whoever's in charge to inspect the cargo, then keep an eye on that person and find a chance to interrogate him."
She also waved for Bobo not to keep lying there watching. She knew surveillance work well—cops always monitored people while eating doughnuts and drinking coffee. Clearly, it was not time to make a move yet.
"Have this one. There's a little vodka mixed into it." Deathstroke also told the chimp to relax. They had just dealt with Merlin and had not even had time for a drink, so they might as well take a brief rest now.
Besides, in some ways, Barbara really was impressive. She was one of the few people who could work with Batwoman every day and still retain the ability to think independently. Sometimes, she could even remind Batwoman of things in return.
She knew what she wanted and had a clear plan of action. She did not need others to tell her what to do.
Those were precious lessons she had gained during the years she spent in a wheelchair, providing Batwoman with remote intelligence support as Oracle. Perhaps it could be said that Joker had made her who she was?
Bobo put away his