"Bri-an." And Brian was yanked out of his zone, out of the passing traffic, to focus on Calls-Himself-Logan-Yeah-Right. Logan was looking skuzzier than usual tonight - a few extra piercings, his shirt ragged and ripped, and he was twitching a little, looking for trouble, looking for some extra cash. And thinking Brian could provide both. Brian looked at the twitching and tried to assess it - had he had Sugar recently? Or was this something else, just some coke or something?

The request for help was coded enough that it was understood exactly how deep Tim and Cassandra were undercover. Dick's still surprised by how far under they are.

How far will Tim go for authenticity?

How far will Tim go for authenticity?

Mei laughs, rich and throaty, and takes the glass from her, tilting it up to her lips and taking a long swallow. Then, perfectly careless, she drops it over the arm of the chair to shatter on the floor, gaze never wavering from Kushina. “How about I help you in return, sweetheart? That dress looks uncomfortable. Take it off.”

“Well this is awkward,” Quinlan says, raising a hand to stop his nipple tassels from swinging.

When signs of a blackmarket organ trafficker floats up in Gotham Harbor, Jason and Tim find out that the victims had one thing in common: they both worked at a gay strip club. Determined to root out the traffickers, both decide to go undercover to solve the case. The only problem? Neither knows the other is working the case.