Cigarettes and Motorcycles

Robin/Richard Grayson

The flame burst to life from the red lighter, lighting the end of the cigarette and disappearing into the dark with the snap of a lid. Fingers grasped at the cigarette and it was pulled away from a pair of lips, a stream of smoke slowly unfurling from the pursed lips.

A leather jacket slid across broad shoulders and pale, long fingered hands braced against the edge of the windowsill. A single push and the figure flew from the open window. The figure rolled into a flip. One... Two... Three... Four. Four perfect flips and with the silence of a bat and the grace of a gymnast, steel toed boots left imprints in the dew covered grass. One more puff of smoke escaped the figure's lips and Dick Grayson disappeared into the night.


A black caped man stalked through the night, swinging from rooftop to rooftop and came to a halt as a small beep alerted him to a call.

"He is missing."

The caped man turned, slamming his fist into a nearby wall and leaving a sizable dent in the crumbling brick. His lips thinned to a barely visible line in his anger and his face cleared of all emotion.

"Does he have the motorcycle?"

"Yes sir."

The dark knight turned on his heel and leapt from the building, his cape expanding into black as night wings. In just a few seconds, Batman had disappeared into the night after his son.


The sun was high in the sky when the red headed speedster arrived at the mountain. After snagging a bag of chips, he looked around, noticing the lack of a certain Boy Wonder. The zeta tubes announced the arrival of Batman, and the MIA status of the masked bird became even more clear to the waiting team.

"Where is Rob?" The speedster asked with the grace of a raging elephant.

The dark knight cleared his face of all emotion and his voice was flat when he spoke.

"Your teammate has been confined to his civilian identity due to recent events and will not be returning for some time."

The yellow and red clad teenage immediately was concerned and his speech picked up speed.

"Is he okay? Was he hurt? Can I go see him? Where is he?"

Batman's gloved hands clenched into angry fists and he throws three items on the table between him and the team. With shock on their faces, the team looks down at a pack of cigarettes, a handgun, and the keys to a motorcycle, the red stylized R on the keychain mocking them.