Let me introduce you to Richille 'Rickie' Grayson, my version of Fem!Nightwing. And Brandon 'Brent' Gordon. I came up with the name; I wanted it to be something different than Rachel, yet still similar-ish to Richard. This is a genderbent AU.

On with the one-shot!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.

Brent laughed. He was Rickie's birthday party, and they were currently playing a game of seven minutes of heaven. Bruce had retired for the night, and so did Alfred, with strict instructions that the girls were to sleep in one room, while the guys would sleep in another.

Secretly, Brent suspected that Alfred was still up to make sure they obeyed his rules.

The bottle that was spun had ended up pointing to Rickie. She looked shocked for a moment, then smiled. It was pretty loud in the room, everyone was clapping, and cheering. There were quite a lot of wolf whistles.

"C'mon, let's spin it again!" Jimmy, a friend of Rickie's, cheered.

He spun the bottle, and Brent watched it anxiously. So did everyone else. No one couldn't pretend they weren't the least bit curious about where it ended up. Who would get to kiss the birthday girl?

The bottle spun.

And spun.

And spun.

It slowed down.

And it stopped at Brent.

He gaped at it like a fish, and his friend Bryan Kane clapped him on the back. Closing his mouth, Brent looked up, and saw Rickie in front of him. She had a light brush on her cheeks.

"You ready for this?" She asked him.

He wanted to say no. Instead, he smiled, and took her hand. Their friends cheered, and he was pretty sure that he saw Bryan snap a picture. The Apollo guy next to him laughed when Bryan said something. Nervously, Brent looked around before following after Rickie, both of them walking into a closet in the hall.

He shut the door, and turned to face her. Rickie seemed unable to meet his eyes, and he could tell that she was blushing. Dimly, Brent noted just how tall he had gotten. He could rest his chin on her head. She was kind of on the petite side with a slim, lithe build.

Rickie wore a dark blue, knee length dress. It was close fitting at the top, but it spread out at the bottom. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her black hair was curled around her shoulders. His stomach fluttered nervously, and his palms felt sweaty. He continued looking at her nervously.

Her shoes were just black flats. That made him crack a small smile. The day Alfred got her into heels was the day Brent turned into a flying pig. Brent wore black pants, and a light blue dress shirt, with dress shows. He looked decent, he guessed. She looked . . . good.

Rickie raised an eyebrow as she saw him looking at her. Now Brent was the one unable to meet her eyes. His face burned. He stared stubbornly at his shoes.

From the hall, the two could hear the voices of their friends.

"Is anything happening in there?"

"What's going on?"

"Did they kiss yet?"

"I hope so. It's about time."

"Guys! Shh! Let's give them their privacy."

The voices faded away, as the footsteps got further and further. Both of them were now blushing, and looking down. They knew what they were supposed to do, they knew what the rules of the game were.

Brent looked at Rickie. She was shyly blushing, and a lock of her dark hair, put up in a pretty bun, fell into her face. He brushed it away, and he could feel Rickie freeze at the contact. Their eyes locked onto each other.

Brent never realized the deep blue of her eyes could be so mesmerizing. Without thinking, he started to lean closer, intending to get a better look at them, and Brent noticed a light dusting of cute freckles across the bridge of her nose. He was so close to her face now that their noses touched. Brent knew it would be all too easy to lean in and kiss her.

"You don't have to do it." She whispered, slightly breathless at their proximity.

How could she tell Brent she'd never been kissed? That would be so awkward.

"Its tradition." Brent shot back. He used his fingers to lightly grip her chin, and turn it upwards.

He kissed her, and his mind seemed to turn to mush. It felt like . . . happiness. Peace. A sense of content filled him as he pressed his warm lips to hers. Her lips were soft. The kiss was addicting in a way. She tasted kind of like chocolate. Or was it coffee?

Whatever it was, Brent wanted to keep kissing her. For a second, Brent lost himself in the kiss. A part of him was so very blissfully happy. A knot of pent up emotions was untangling inside him, and he felt like he finally knew just how he felt about Rickie after years of being her friend.

Then he pulled away, and the moment was lost.

Rickie shot him a questioning, confused look.

"Why . . . why did you kiss me?"

She looked kind of dazed, like she was in shock. Brent became aware that he was blushing so hard his face felt like it was on fire.

"Um," Was because he wanted to an acceptable answer? No? Well, new answer: "Its tradition, and um, our friends will make sure we, uh, at least do something in the closet . . ."

Lie, lie, lie.

He was pretty sure Rickie's Lie Detector was going off the chart, or as Brent liked to call it, her Bullshit Radar. She was uncannily good at discerning when she was being lied to. But then he saw the glazed look in her eyes, and the dazed expression on her face. Maybe he could get away with it.

"Oh." Rickie still seemed confused, but accepted his answer, much to Brent's relief. "It's just . . . You were my first kiss."

With that, she turned to leave the closet, leaving Brent standing in the closet, and blinking, confused. Shaking his head, Brent turned to follow Rickie out of the closet to where their friends sat waiting in the living room.

He would never understand girls.

This was inspired by some of the YJ comics where Barbara kisses Dick at his fourteenth B-day party. Now we have my genderbent version of that. As for the genderbent Dibs, I fell in love with that pairing due to deviantart by avataarandy.

Well, that's done. There'll be a sequel of sorts to this. Please review!