Chapter Text
“That was good work.”
A statement like that should really sound more like a compliment. But Slade doesn't say it like that. He sounds confused.
Red Hood’s glad he's already taken his helmet off, so the other man can appreciate his single eyebrow raise. It also means he's less steps away from rolling his helmet between Slade’s legs and detonating it, if he feels so inclined. “Yeah, I tend to do that sometimes. What? Thought the only good Robin was the first one?” Is he giving away his identity? Maybe. But, he's read all the notes on Slade (largely courtesy of one Dick Grayson during his Titan days): if Slade cares, he already knows, and if he doesn't care, he'll promptly forget.
Slade crosses his arms. “Thought someone set on blowing up a building wouldn't have the best planning skills.”
“What the hell are you talking about? That was a great plan!” Red Hood throws his arms up. They should really go. While gunshots are normal in Crime Alley, they were just responsible for a whole lot of them. And while it’s not nearly as loud and flashy as he had originally been going for, it’s best to assume the area's gained some attention and a concerned citizen or two have called the cops on them by now.
“It was half baked.”
They should really, really go. Red Hood's just getting back out on the streets after his fucking mess with Batman and Joker. This is not the time to be getting caught if he wants to re-establish his name. But fuck Slade if he thinks he's going to win this argument. It’d taken him over a week to plan this; it was not half baked. “It was fully baked! It was taken out of the oven and seasoned even! Blow up the building, thus cutting off road access. Attack the armored truck while they worked to figure out a different route.” Slade is clearly missing the artistry behind his plan.
“And attract the entire GCPD to your location.”
Forget the artistry, he’s missing the whole entire point. “And send a message to the entire criminal underworld not to fuck with me. And, for the record, GCPD’s response time sucks. I'd’ve been outta here before they showed up no problem.” With how long ago the first gunshots started and how long they’ve been loitering, this might no longer be the case soon. But Slade should hear the sirens before him, thanks to the enhanced senses he's got, and Slade’s still here, so they can’t be too close.
“You ever hear the phrase, ‘it's better to work in the shadows’?”
Red Hood gestures down below them, where around three dozen men lay either unconscious or dying. Or maybe dead. He doesn't really care. No one has seen his face, there are no cameras around, and the bats and birds are already aware that Deathstroke’s in town. This won't be traced back to him. “I think I'm aware of the concept, yeah. You ever hear the phrase, ‘there's a time and a place for everything’?”
“And tonight's plan was to be overly loud and dramatic?”
Red Hood shrugs. “Gotta remind ‘em to be scared every once in a while.”
It's Bat philosophy, even if it's the type of philosophy the Bat would never admit to practicing. The kid seemed good at reading between the lines. “Hm. Well.” Slade has a weird desire to say, ‘thanks’, even though it's stupid. Even though that would imply Slade owed this Robin something. And he doesn't. Teaming up had been the fastest way to get his contract taken care of, but it was not at all the only way. And, he wouldn't have even had to change his plans if Red Hood hadn't been trying to blow up the building Slade had picked to set up his sniper rifle. Really, the boy owed him for not killing him on the spot when he got in the way of his job.
Still, it had been impressive, watching him work. He has all of Batman’s violence backed by the lethal follow-through the other man's so against. He's curious as to who was able to talk this boy out of those strict morals. He'd never been able to talk Grayson out of them. But maybe this one was just less stubborn. “Nice to know you can be … flexible.”
Red Hood’s face heats at the implication of that sentence. Luckily, it's dark enough he's pretty confident his blush is hidden. He forces a grin. “Oh, you've got no idea. Maybe I'll show you next time.”
It's not the type of flexible Slade had meant, but he'd be a fool to turn it down. “Next time then,” he answers, smiling beneath his own helmet. “I definitely wouldn't mind seeing more of your work.”
TBC