Later, when everything was said and done and he got a chance to look at that suit, Jason would be pleased that his presence caused so many alarms to go off. Not because he liked the fact that he was dangerous--though, that was part of it--, but because Bruce had designed those warnings for himself.

Bruce saw him as a threat.

Good.

In the moment, he waited until the taser round did it's job, the modulated scream coming from the body within the suit muffled by clenched teeth. When the body finally collapsed, he carefully reached forward with the toe of a steel toed boot, giving the suit a solid thump in the ribs before he nodded in satisfaction.

"You're definitely not B. Come on, then....let's see who had the balls to steal the fucking suit." He didn't reach for the cowl, instead securing limp arms with cut resistant zip ties before hauling the entire form up and over one broad shoulder.

Even with his gangly package, he moved quickly through his city. Up over rooftops, hopping over gaps between alley's without pausing. He was a powerhouse and while the man in the suit wasn't small, they weren't Bruce levels of huge, either.

The warehouse was quiet when he got there, but that didn't stop him from kicking open the skylight and jumping down like he owned the place. Mostly because he did, but that was beside the point.

"Honey, I'm home! I brought company!"