She knew the pattern intimately by now: Bruce would tense up when touched, then convince himself it was okay and relax. She liked it when he did that, because it meant that she'd earned the ability to get him to lower his defenses.
She let go and stepped back when he asked the question, and she searched his features and body language. Why didn't you come to me instead of running away? he seemed to ask her.
Her fingertips on each hand formed the shape of points on the top of her head, then drifted down the sides of her head only to curl upward into an approximation of a hairstyle -- it was her gestural 'name' for Batgirl. "Babs. Batgirl now ... not ..." She mentally searched for the spoken name of Barbara's computerized alter ego. Her gestural name translated to Big Giant Head. "Oracle. Not Oracle." Forming spoken sentences was going to be so hard to get used to again.
She pointed to herself, then tapped her temple close to her eye. "Found out. Saw." And she fixed Bruce with a stare. "You knew. Paper. Long time. Didn't ... didn't tell me. Was mad ... at both of you. Thought you..."
Her voice quavered. She didn't want to cry. She tried to keep her voice neutral, but as usual her voice did whatever it wanted; the tears she was holding back flooded into her voice. "Thought you knew ... Batgirl ... important. To me. Both knew."
She gestured with one hand as if throwing a ball at him. She was putting the proverbial ball in his court; it was his turn to answer. "Why?" Why didn't you tell me Barbara was Batgirl again?