Disclaimer – I earn less than minimum wage. You think I can afford to own anything like a Batman character? Even one they don't want anymore.

A/N – Minor character insight. Steph is so very underappreciated.


Augury

© Scribbler, March 2005


There was a time between setting up shop on a rooftop and swinging away on a grapple-line again that made Steph feel like the reality of being Robin? So much better than she'd even imagined. There was something invigorating about being dressed in a primary-coloured clown suit, and yet still being able to drop out of the sky and fight crime and be taken seriously while doing it. Even the fact that she'd named the gargoyle near her favourite watch-point Sid didn't make her feel silly.

The birdarangs, the costume, the fact that she was Robin, man! So much more iconic than Spoiler. That sounded like the part of a car that always got wrecked first in an accident. And, yeah, maybe robins were little songbirds that were famous for their breasts, but the rest kicked total ass. And she was the first Robin to actually have breasts, anyway. Which begged the question about what the name meant to the boys that had come before her. She made a mental note to ask Tim how the name 'Robin' was chosen in the first place. Probably he had some nifty story about it she'd have to tease out of him. he was cute when he went all tight-lipped and secretive.

But the grapple-line … that was the kicker. She would never, ever get tired of swinging on those. Or making the totally un-Robin-like squealy noises that made Batman frown and get that little indentation in his chin. In some ways, it was almost a pain in the ass that she had to come down and beat up bad guys. She wished she could stay flying through the sky forever.

Some odd minutes – the kind that plague every person who's ever driven a car, or ridden a bike, or walked past a power station – she wondered what it would be like to just let go and not grab on again, or fire off another line. It wasn't something she thought about too much – she had way too much to live for to get all suicidal and junk: Robin, man! – but it was human nature to question the limits of something dangerous. It gave it an extra thrill.

First there would come that sound of wind, either in her ears or slapping at her cape, winding it around her face so she couldn't see. It would be brief, though. A human body falls fast. The main thing was just that: the fact of a person taking on wholly physical properties, falling at the speed of a cannonball in the decline of a shot. It wouldn't matter whether her brain continued to race on the way down, or of she regretted what she'd done, or if she had time to contemplate the ground rushing up to meet her. Her mind would no longer exist in any way that mattered.

Now there was a scary thought – becoming just so much meant to go splat on the pavement. It was almost enough to make her stop worrying about all the psychos and nutjobs Gotham had to offer, if she was going to come up with self-as-biggest-enemy thoughts like that.

Almost.

She stood up and patted Sid on the head like some faithful dog. "Duty calls, buddy." A click, a whoosh, and she was swinging off into the night, hair trying to work its way free from its restraint and blaze behind her like the tail of a falling star.

Somewhere in the city, Tim sat at his desk doing homework, while she showed the underbelly scumballs the back of her hand.

Steph smiled sharply. "Wheeeeee!"


FINIS.