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Barbara Gordon can't really 'go for a walk', but even she sometimes needs fresh air. She really misses her car from back home. They haven't had time to modify any of the recovered vehicles here for use by a woman with no working legs, and that means she can't actually go too far from the farm. Still, she goes as far as she can. It's not far but it gives her at least the illusion of distance. Of solitude.

At least if she ignores the laptop tucked under her seat which will give her a signal if any7 of a dozen of her algorithmic alarms go off.

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Sam and his lifted eyebrow do not.

"Uh, yeah. It won't take long."

Maybe.

"The fuel will be useful no matter what." Even if it's too late for Manila.

Sam nods and doesn't add anything, though his eyes do get a shade darker. It isn't fuel he's going looking for.

But they might be able to save the yellow triangles all the same.

He looks at Barbara again, then the network of computers, satellites, surveilance equipment.

"...if I needed to find someone, how easy could that be?"

"That... depends." Barbara turns to focus her full attention on Sam. "Who are you looking for?" And why?

Two excellent questions Sam isn't going to answer.

He shakes his head, still looking at the equipment. "Someone my brother met about a year ago. He's got a name, maybe a face, no idea where he went after that."

"Metahuman or a normal?" The former was a lot easier to track than the latter.

Sam smirks a little, thinking of Dean's description.

"I'll get back to you."

"Don't get your hopes up, though. It's hard to find any individual out there. I mean, I've missed hundred-foot cockroaches before." And she was still kicking herself for that considering how much damage the things had done.

Sam shrugs, not exactly unbothered but expecting the difficulty. "We'll see," is all he says, giving her workstation a final glance over. He shakes his head, impressed as much as overwhelmed, and starts moving toward the stairs.

"Need anything from Metropolis? I'm just stopping here for supplies and heading back."

"I think I'm good," Babs grins. "But if you run into any more books..."

Sam grins at her, already pulling his bag off his shoulder.

"The useful stuff's been picked clean," he says, presenting her with two small volumes, "so I hope you like murder-mysteries."

"Really?" Babs asks in mock horror. "That's all you've got left? I'm 24/7 global rescue operation involving hundreds of field agents. And murder mysteries are all you've got to offer?"

She'll take them! Solve them all by page ten, of course, but she'll take them.

"Sorry. My brother already grabbed the Choose Your Own Adventure ones."

He's certain Babs would have just loved those.

"Your brother is a greedy so-and-so." Yeah. She really does call him a 'so-and-so'.

That is not helping Sam's amused smirk at all.

"I'll tell him you said so."

"You better. I'll check up on that."

It's even possible that she will, too.

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