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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Batman x White Collar
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Published:
2025-09-09
Words:
821
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
26
Kudos:
322
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1,953

It's Not What You Think!

Summary:

“It’s not what you think.”

Diana looked at the scene in front of her and felt a surge of certainty that, actually, it was exactly what she thought.

_____________________________
AKA Diana finds Dick/Neal with something stolen and of course, assumes Neal stole it. Okay, maybe he did steal it, but he does have a really good reason.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“It’s not what you think.”

The words tumbled out of Neal’s mouth the second Diana stepped into his apartment. His tone was light, but his eyes– wide and frantic– didn’t match.

Diana looked at the scene in front of her and felt a surge of certainty that, actually, it was exactly what she thought.

They’d been called in after hours for a case. Peter couldn’t reach Neal, so he’d sent her to knock on his door and drag him in. She’d expected Neal to answer with a glass of wine and a smirk. Instead, the moment the door opened, she found herself staring at the painting– the very painting their team had been assigned to track down.

Her voice was sharp. “Hands where I can see them, Caffrey.”

Neal lifted his hands halfway, a guilty magician caught mid-trick. “Okay. So–”

“No. Don’t ‘so’ me.” Diana’s instincts kicked in as she swept the room: corners, shadows, kitchen. Clear. She stepped forward. “Hands up. Turn around.”

“Diana, just–”

“Turn. Around.”

He did. She cuffed him tight. Too tight. Then, thinking ahead to the stories about Neal slipping cuffs like it was a party trick, she pulled out a second pair and snapped them on too, forcing his arms wide, pinning him against the radiator so his shoulders stretched.

Neal looked left, then right, taking in his predicament. “That’s… thorough.”

“You break out of things for fun,” she said flatly. “Stay.”

He gave her a look, then tugged on the cuffs with a deliberate little rattle, as if to emphasize his lack of options.

Ignoring him, Diana pulled out her phone.

“Wait– don’t– don’t call Peter.” Neal’s voice broke, panicked in a way she had never heard from him. “Let me explain.”

She turned a glare on him. “How could this possibly lead to me not calling Peter?”

“Please.” His eyes locked on hers. No grin. No sparkle. Just steady, unguarded panic. It stopped her cold.

She placed her phone on the table, just out of reach. “Talk.”

Neal blinked, surprised she’d given him that chance, then fumbled for words. “I’m– so this whole thing– well basically–”

Diana reached for her phone again.

“Wait!” Neal jolted against the cuffs, blurting the last thing she’d expected to hear. “I’m an undercover agent!”

She froze, gaping. For a moment she couldn’t even form words, just stared at him while her expression shifted from disbelief to something harder, more controlled.

“I’m calling Peter.”

“Diana–”

“No! I can’t believe I even entertained the idea you had a good reason–”

“I can prove it. Just call Hughes.”

She stopped, frowning. Hughes? That made no sense. Hughes would be worse for Neal than Peter–unless Neal really did have some angle that involved him. Against her better judgment, she sighed, scrolled, and hit dial.

“Hughes.”

“Sir, it’s Berrigan,” she said briskly. “I’m in Caffrey’s apartment. I’ve got–”

“Babel Six-Seven,” Neal cut in, fast, sharp.

Before Diana could snap at him to shut up, Hughes drew in a sharp breath on the other end of the line. His voice dropped. “Put me on speaker. Now.”

She did.

“How is the gallery?” Hughes asked.

Diana blinked. “What–”

“The frame is cracked,” Neal interrupted, smooth and certain now.

There was no hesitation from Hughes. “Can it be fixed with glue?”

Diana’s heart stuttered. What the hell was this? Her brain screamed code, but she could never be sure if Neal was telling the truth.

“No,” Neal said, “but with a brace, the rest of the gallery can stay open.”

She heard the shuffle of papers on Hughes’s end.

“Catalogue check?”

“Without the brace,” Neal said, “the courier is handcuffed to the radiator.” He flicked his eyes toward Diana, almost apologetic.

Her certainty cracked.

On the line, Hughes chuckled. Chuckled. “Diana, are you there?”

She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“I need you to uncuff Caffrey and return to the office.”

“But–”

“Do not say a word to anyone about what has happened. Come straight to my office. I’ll explain. N, once the catalogue is complete, come join us.”

The call was cut off.

Diana lowered the phone slowly, her jaw tight. That son of a bitch had hung up after telling her to let Neal– the art thief– walk away with the stolen painting that he probably stole.

“Um… Diana?” Neal said carefully, rattling the cuffs to emphasize his question.

She dragged a hand over her face. “Fine. Just–” She groaned into her palm. “You’d better explain everything later.”

He managed his best salute despite being chained to the radiator.

With a curse, she unlocked the cuffs. He stood, rubbing his wrists, and gestured toward the door with a flourish that was pure Neal Caffrey. “Shall we?”

She followed him out, every muscle tight, every nerve buzzing.

By the time she was in the car heading to the office, one thought kept circling like a shark in her mind:

What the fuck is going on?

Notes:

I am thinking about making this a collection of Neal!Dick stories! If anyone reads this, please give me prompts in the comments for what people want to see!
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Crack Summary of the 2nd chapter I didn't like:

Diana: “Why aren’t the Titans dealing with this? There’s a whole team of superheroes in this city- why isn’t anyone else handling it?”
(Dramatic af Dick Grayson unbuttons his shirt)
Dick: “The Titans are dealing with this.”
Diana: “You’re Nightwing. You’re Nightwing. You’re the one leading the Titans. I saw you on the news last week, doing a triple backflip off a highrise-”
Dick: “Diana-”
Diana: “You’re an actual superhero. God. Is anyone else I've met secretly a superhero I don’t know about?”
Dick: "... no?"
Diana: "NEAL"

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