Tim couldn't understand how no one else had spotted it. It seemed so obvious to him that it rattled around his head, gathering only mild doubt because it was just too obvious. After all, Batman and Robin knew that they had to be careful, between criminals, the police and numerous journalists wanting to get their hands on their identities, they wouldn't do anything like this. Wouldn't make it easy for anyone with Internet access and a desire to crack the biggest mystery of Gotham for two decades to figure out who they really were.

But, then again, not everyone had been to see the Flying Graysons. Not everyone had been told the stories by their parents whenever they went to see other trapeze artists, about how they were good but that no one had ever taken up the mantle of the best in Gotham since the accident. They'd become a legend, but also meant that safety nets were a requirement if working within the city limits. Not that most did any more for that reason. Where was the fear factor that had the audience gasping with every jump if there was a net?

Tim sighed, glanced at his watch. Sneaking off before school had been the easy part, nonetheless the old dentist's note that he'd changed the date on felt as if it weighed his pocket down. But he needed to do this. Not only to prove that he was right but to warn them. If a nine year old could work it out then adults probably wouldn't have any trouble. If they tried hard enough.

He pressed the buzzer on the gates of Wayne Manor. The only thing that he hadn't thought of was -

'Hello?' asked an English voice, startling Tim slightly.

He cleared his throat, tried to sound much more grownup. 'Hello, I'm here to speak to Mr. Wayne.'

'May I ask your name?' the voice said politely, though Tim had no doubt that they could see him. A security camera sat on the top of the gate, peering down at him.

'My name,' said Tim, straightening his back slightly, determined to stand his full height, as if it might somehow make him more impressive, 'is Timothy Drake. I'm here to talk to him, and Richard Grayson, about their nightly activities.'

There was silence on the other end of the intercom. He could tell that they were trying to work it out, trying to piece together what he was on about. But he also knew that it was something they couldn't risk getting out, couldn't risk not looking into a little more themselves.

For a moment, he wondered if he shouldn't have told someone where he was going. Panic clawed its way up his throat. The urge to run lingered at the back of his mind. But he couldn't. He needed to know if he was right about this.

The gates started to open, slowly moving inwards to admit him.

'Come in, Mr. Drake,' the English voice said. 'Someone shall come to greet you.'

Tim merely nodded before moving briskly through the opening, knowing that there was no turning back now. 

*

Wayne Manor was as impressive as Tim had expected. It seemed to take up most of the horizon as he cycled towards it, grateful for his bike. As he pulled up outside he spotted a girl standing in the doorway, surveying him coolly. Her arms were folded across her chest, but there was something about her that assured him she would pounce if he made one wrong move.

'Shouldn't you be at school?' she asked simply, the lilt of an accent poking through her words. English, he guessed.

'Shouldn't you?' he countered, wondering if he should prop his bike up or if that might be an insult. Instead he carefully laid it on the floor, hoping that he'd remember to collect it on the way back.

She narrowed her eyes but shrugged, a flicker of a smile playing on her lips. 'Bruce is in the study,' she said simply, turning away from him and moving back into the manor.

Tim dashed up the steps, reaching the door before it swung closed. Not that he needed to worry. A man dressed in a suit, the butler he guessed, held the door open for him, glaring after the girl.

'Do come in, Mr. Drake. Can I offer you anything?' he asked, motioning for Tim to follow him through the house. 'A drink, perhaps.'

'No thank you,' Tim said, trying to take in as much of the building as possible. To figure out where the study was, the exits surrounding it. Just in case.

The butler nodded before knocking on one of the doors.

'Enter,' called a firm voice, one that made Tim wonder how he was going to fare against Batman. He wondered if Bruce Wayne would try and deny it, would already be dressed as Batman as if it might scare him into running away. He wondered -

The door was opened, cutting his thoughts off abruptly, and the butler motioned Tim inside. He nodded his thanks before entering.

The study was a grand room, large windows letting in natural light that seemed to be at the side of the house for the moment; untainted by the grime that surrounded everything else in Gotham. Bruce Wayne was standing at one window, his attention out of it as if there was something far more interesting outside, while Richard Grayson was perched curiously on the arm of a sofa, looking directly at Tim, as if he were trying to read his mind.

'Shouldn't you be at school?' Richard asked, furrowing his brow. There was something much more welcoming about his expression than there had been about the girl's. He seemed more curious than suspicious. Then again, he'd grown up at the circus; he probably enjoyed the company of others and meeting new people.

Tim ignored the question this time, waited until he heard the door closing. Then, and only then, did he boldly say, 'I know you're Batman and Robin.'

Richard's expression shifted quickly to confusion, with a hint of concern. His attention briefly flicked towards Mr. Wayne. But the man remained at the window. He didn't turn, nor did he give any obvious signs of worry at the announcement. It was almost as if he hadn't even heard Tim's suspicions.

Tim wetted his lips. This wasn't what he'd been expecting. 'I - I saw the Graysons' move. The - the triple summersault while you were after some criminal. It has to be -'

'Mr. Drake,' Mr. Wayne said calmly, slowly turning to face him. There was something imposing about him even without the Batman getup, something about him that seemed to command the attention of the room, that made it impossible for Tim to look away from him. 'I appreciate that it is easy to see something as impressive as the acrobatic feats Robin can execute and make assumptions based -'

'It was the same move!' Tim burst out before he could stop himself. He took a breath, closed his eyes and then looked towards Mr. Wayne. He hadn't expected it to be this hard. 'I just wanted to warn you that I figured it out.' He shot a brief look towards Richard and then walked away, a little glad not to hear either of them following him.

A door opened as he reached the front door, but he didn't look around, he kept walking, eager to get out of there. Because it didn't matter what they said. He knew. He'd seen it, and that was the important thing for him. He just hoped that he hadn't misjudged what they'd do with knowing that someone had worked it out, that they'd try to better hide themselves rather than coming for him.