He set his backpack on the table and began removing items from it: a container of tea and two cups, one red and one white with a symbol on it.
Colleen's eyebrow rose.
"I thought the tea was a rhetorical suggestion," she said, sitting down at the smaller table because he had gestured toward it without stopping pointing at him.
"A way of saying we should talk peacefully."
"It was not meant rhetorically," he said, finishing the preparation and setting the white cup in front of Colleen, keeping the red one for himself.
Before sitting he took out the last item from the backpack: a packet of chocolate cookies, which he set between them on the table.
"You think I will eat or drink any of this?" Colleen said. "I do not know if it is poisoned. Or if it contains an aphrodisiac. Or a sedative."
"If I wanted you dead I would have blown up the building. If I wanted either of the other two I would have used the gas grenade I have but chose not to bring. And I would not blow up the building because that puts innocent lives at risk."
He activated the mechanism in the mask that uncovered only his mouth. "Also, I will eat and drink too."
Colleen watched.
Nothing happened.
She reached for the tea, then a cookie, all while maintaining the weapon on him.
"See?" he said. "Nothing happened to either of us."
He took a cookie and chewed it. 'They are good. But I prefer my own.'
"Okay," Colleen said. "I have done everything you asked. But you never told me your name. It is time."
"You are right. At this point it is appropriate." He looked at her steadily. "When I am wearing this costume, you can call me Red Hood, Miss Colleen Wing."
The suit was a full black spandex outfit bearing his symbol. The spandex was approximately a centimeter thick due to the protective layers integrated for bullet resistance.
The gloves were removable when necessary. The jacket, trousers, and belt were unmodified civilian pieces, but the shoe insoles muffled his steps.
The weapons he had brought were taken from a shipment he had intercepted with Yuri, upgraded for accuracy and durability, and modified to resemble Agent 47's Silverballers, but in black.
"But in my civilian life," he continued, and removed the helmet and mask completely, like the original Red Hood did, "you can call me Jason Todd."
The face that appeared was not his own. It was the result of four patches applied to specific points on his body: one near the vocal cords, one at the back of the neck, and two at the sides of the forehead.
Their function was similar to Megamind's identity watch called Holo-Watch, but in patch form rather than device form, and they affected not only his physical appearance but also the holographic projection that the suit displayed, making it functionally a face transplant. The only inconvenience was the contact lenses required to conceal his hazel eyes.
"Better yet," Colleen said, drinking her tea and eating a cookie, legs eventually crossing as she settled, "tell me about this deal. I want to go back to bed. I have classes to teach tomorrow."
She gave him a direct look. "And I hope this is not simply a way to keep me distracted while you do something when I am not paying attention."
"I want you to train me," he said.
'Danny certainly ate well.' He had given her legs a quick, discreet assessment. "Not the training you give your students. The other kind."
"What other training?" she said, with feigned ignorance, her muscles subtly tensing as a precaution.
"I know you are not an ordinary teacher.
And it is easy to see why. Your muscles tensed when you heard me, ready for a fight.
Your movements are careful and silent. The way you stand and survey your surroundings. The look you gave me when I retrieved my backpack, analyzing every part of me.
Your complete absence of nervousness when you were pointing a gun at me. The firmness in what you said earlier about this not being the first time someone has tried to hurt you.
And I have seen you in street confrontations. In one of them you were close to killing someone without hesitation, and in the end you chose not to. You are not an ordinary teacher."
He held her gaze. "I want the training you underwent to become the fighter you are. I cannot tell you my source, but it is reliable."
He listed everything with the calm of someone making a documented case, except for the last statement which was entirely improvised, and waited.
Colleen sighed.
"You came all the way here just for that? Why not ask someone else?"
"Good question. There is someone more experienced, but she will almost certainly ask me to protect the world and her sect in exchange for teaching me. (Ancient One)
Then there is Captain Barbossa, who, upon learning I possess what he wants so badly, will put me in maximum security, interrogate me at length, and eventually train me under the implicit threat of conscription.
After that there is a blind old man with a great deal of experience, but I do not know where to find him, and I doubt his student would be willing to take me. (Stick)
Each and every one of them will demand things from me I have no intention of fulfilling: being a soldier, a protector, a warrior, a sworn guardian of something or other."
"And you came to me. Why?"
"Because of all of them, you are the most sensible, and you will not ask me to fight a war or guard a natural being or any of the related things. The deal is this."
He set his hands on the table. "I will pay six months of your rent. I will provide better equipment for your students. I will repair and improve this space. In return, you teach me everything you know. When I say everything, I mean everything, without exceptions."
"You are giving me all of that simply to be trained?" She studied him. "And how do I know you will follow through?"
He took out his phone, which was considerably more advanced than anything currently on the market, worked it for a few seconds, and turned the screen toward her. Six months of rent, paid.
"When I say something I keep my word," he said. "And money is not a limiting factor for me. With what I have planned in the near future, I will become a very wealthy person."
Colleen looked at the screen for a long moment.
"...You start tomorrow.," she said. "Training days are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 5:15 PM to 9:00 PM, and Saturdays from 2:10 PM to 5:00 PM.
Come during those windows. I want to finish with my current students before starting with you, so I can rest properly afterward.
I will contact you on the days I want you to come and help with the repairs. If you cannot make a scheduled time, we reschedule."
She stood, collected the cups, washed and dried them, and handed them to him.
He packed them into the backpack along with the remaining cookies. He gave her the number for his secondary phone.
"That sounds perfect," he said, putting the backpack on, then the mask and helmet. "Have a good night, Miss Wing. I will see you tomorrow."
He retrieved his two weapons from where Colleen had placed them and put them away.
He went out the same way he had come in.