A/N: Last summer, when I was working 60+ hour work weeks for nearly four months, the only thing that I felt was keeping me sane was writing six interconnected YJ stories whenever I had a few spare moments. I haven't posted any of them because I have not been completely satisfied with the first one, this one. It is very different from what I usually write, but is the setup for quite a few major plot points. Last week, after rereading it for the umpteenth time and only tweaking a word or two, I decided that it was time to just stop fiddling with it and post the darn thing. Hopefully, the others will be posted much more quickly. You'd think after eight months of staring at it there wouldn't be any mistakes, but I don't have a beta, so apologies, all mistakes are my own.

Paved with Good Intentions

Her mother was going to kill her. She'd been so proud to hear that her daughter had received a full scholarship to the prestigious Gotham Academy. Even if her mother had all but forced her to attend, she didn't want to disappoint her mom.

Artemis Crock had been gathering the books needed for her next class out of her locker in the sparkling halls of Gotham Academy. Anyone could see the money glistening on the walls, and it was even easier to spot the difference between the kids who dripped green and the charity cases, like her. Designer backpacks and shoes that probably cost more than what her mother had to spend on food for a month, were everywhere. A group of particularly snotty popular girls walked past, eyeing Artemis as if she insulted them by her presence alone. Artemis hated it, but it was a small price to pay to be on a team of super heroes.

Laughter and the banging of lockers sounded down the hall. Strange, the halls were nearly empty.

"Leave me alone!" A boy yelled.

"C'mon, Circus Freak!" Oh...Artemis knew that voice. It was Philip Clarkson, a linebacker on the school's football team.

"Gonna cry for daddy?" That was another football player, Artemis didn't knew his name.

The first voice spoke again, but it wasn't English. The jocks just laughed.

When Artemis rounded the corner, there was a small, black-haired boy being pressed against the lockers. His eyes were screwed shut, his body braced for the punch that Philip's arm was already pulled back, ready to deliver.

Artemis didn't pause to think. She rushed forward, grabbed Phillip's arm, spun him around and slammed her fist into his jaw. The jock recovered quickly, raising his own fists to fight back when a booming adult voice echoed, "Miss Crock!"

Artemis slowly turned to see the headmaster striding toward her. The jocks started to snicker, and the small freshman was looking at her with worried eyes. "Mr. Grey, I can explain..."

"You were warned, Miss Crock, this school would not tolerate your previous behavior. Come with me." Philip and his friend laughed outright, "I'll deal with you two later."

"Mr. Grey," the small black haired boy started but was cut off.

"We can discuss this later," the headmaster snapped. He grabbed ahold of Artemis' arm and led her toward his office.

And that was where Artemis had sat until her mother arrived. The teen had tried to come up with an excuse, any excuse, but the headmaster would accept none. All he repeated was that the academy had a "zero tolerance" policy when it came to fighting.

"But they were going to beat up that kid!" Artemis argued again, "Was I just supposed to sit there and watch?!"

"You could have called a teacher, security, any adult," the headmaster repeated. "Instead, you punched another student."

"I stopped those stupid jocks from hurting someone half their size!"

"By hurting them?"

She didn't have a response that wasn't something along the lines of, "but they deserved it."

Mr. Grey looked to her mother, his face was almost mocking and satisfied, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Crock, but the rules are very clear, your daughter's scholarship is hereby revoked."

Her mother didn't even try to argue. The look of complete disappointment was almost worse than any punishment, but she knew, no fancy school, no superhero team. Artemis opened her mouth to say something else, anything else, in her own defense when the door was suddenly thrown open and a tall muscular man in an immaculate business suit stalked in, rage poured off of him in waves and his icy blue eyes narrowed on the headmaster.

"Excuse me, I'm in a meet-" The headmaster cut himself off and seemed to shrink into his chair, "Mr. Wayne."

"I don't like being called out of meetings by your school's nurse, Gray. Especially when you assured me weeks ago that you had taken care of the problem."

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Wayne," the headmaster stammered.

Mr. Wayne?! Artemis almost gasped aloud. As in Bruce Wayne?

"Dick has been harassed by those punks for months, you swore to me that it was taken care of. And here I get a call saying that he has bruises on his face and possibly a concussion?"

"They threw him against the lockers," Artemis snapped her mouth shut when she realized she'd spoken aloud. She hadn't thought about it at the time, but the small kid could have hit his head that hard, the bang had been loud. Wait, did that mean that tiny kid had been Richard Grayson?

Mr. Wayne's attention snapped to her, and she expected to see that same fury directed at her, but instead his eyes softened slightly, "Dick said someone stopped them, was that you?"

"Mr. Wayne, please," Mr. Gray started, but Mr. Wayne didn't even turn his head to acknowledge him, just raised his hand to silence the headmaster.

Artemis glanced at her mother, who seemed just as flabbergasted by the situation. "Um...yeah, I grabbed Philip's arm and decked him."

Those cold blue eyes softened further, "What's your name?"

"Artemis Crock, sir."

Mr. Wayne blinked and seemed to think for a moment, "Crock, I know that name."

"I'm one of the Wayne Foundation Scholarship Recipients," she said quietly. Did he really look over all those names himself? Much less remember them?

"Was!" The headmaster interrupted. The man positively seethed at being ignored, "The rules are very clear, Mr. Wayne."

Anger bled back into those intense eyes as he slowly turned back to the headmaster, "Are you honestly trying to tell me that you are going to punish the only person has has done anything about the bullies you protect?"

The headmaster shrank back again, Artemis had to hide her smile, she'd heard that Bruce Wayne was an intimidating business man, but that look could rival Batman's scowl. "T-the rules..."

"I believe an exception can be made in this case. And if it can't, I'm sure there are many other schools that would accept not only Dick and Ms. Crock, but the ample funding the Wayne Foundation can provide." Mr. Wayne turned back to Artemis, "There's a wonderful school in London that has been trying to recruit Dick for their advanced mathematics program. Or one in Germany that has many different programs, if you wouldn't mind learning another language or two."

Artemis looked back to her mother, behind her confusion, there was hope. Was Bruce Wayne offering to send her to a fancier school in Europe? Were there Zeta Tubes to get her back for missions? And seriously, Europe?!

"There's no need for that, Mr. Wayne." Mr. Gray said quickly, "I'm sure Ms. Crock will handle any other situation that may arise with better judgement. A warning will suffice."

"Are you kidding?" Artemis couldn't help but exclaim, her mother put a hand on her knee in warning.

"Thank you," her mother said, "It won't happen again, I can assure you."

"I also want those boys punished," Bruce Wayne said, leaning toward the principal, nearly jabbing him in the chest with his finger.

"Of course, Mr. Wayne."

Mr. Wayne nodded to the headmaster coldly, but smiled at Artemis and her mother, and with: "If you'll excuse me," he left the office.

With the money gone, the headmaster recovered quickly, "You are on probation, Artemis Crock. If anything else happens, Bruce Wayne won't be able to save you." He waved his hand dismissively, "Report to class first thing tomorrow. You're dismissed."

"Yes, thank you." Her mother answered, "Come on, Artemis."

Artemis had heard all of the whispered rumors, her mom had occasionally bought those trashy celebrity magazines, but who knew how much gossip, even printed gossip could be trusted. Grayson had seemed quiet, but not anything out of the ordinary. He was a nerd, he spent a lot of time hanging around some red-head girl that was in one of her own classes. Rumors ranged from Bruce Wayne being a television-sitcom-perfect doting father to an evil child predator who used his wealth to escape justice. No matter where he fell on that spectrum, she had not expected the sight when she and her mother stepped out of the headmaster's office.

Bruce Wayne was on one knee on the floor kids trampled, probably spit on, in a suit that cost more than what her mother paid in rent.

"I don't need a doctor, Bruce, it's just a black eye! I'll be fine." Grayson looked pointedly at his guardian. "I bet you never got bullied."

She saw Mr. Wayne smile sadly, "I was bigger than you, but boarding schools can be rougher than you think. You can still go to that one in the Alps if you change your mind."

"I like it here, Bruce, even with guys like them."

"Then, here you'll stay." Mr. Wayne must have noticed her watching, because he smiled, "I figured we could walk these nice young women out, what do you think, old chum?"

"Sure," the kid answered politely.

Once they were out of the school building, Mr. Wayne turned to Artemis' mother, "I really would like to apologize for overstepping. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Her mother still seemed awe-struck in the rich man's presence. "I...no, Mr. Wayne. They would have taken away Artemis' scholarship. I can't thank you enough."

The man gave a smile that Artemis would have assumed was just a rich guy dealing with his "lessers" but it looked genuine, "It's Bruce, please. And I should be thanking you, Miss Artemis."

"Me?" She said, still trying to gauge his motives.

"Yes, this isn't the first time Dick's had trouble, but it is the first time someone actually stepped in to help. Heroism deserves a reward, and I know Dick's had a hard day. Do you like ice cream?" He looked to her mother sheepishly, "Um, if that's all right with your mother...may I, Mrs. Crock?"

Artemis would have laughed at the look on mother's face, but she knew it would only embarrass the woman. "P-Paula," her mother practically squeaked, "Of course it's fine."

"Paula," he extended his hand and her mother quickly reached out to shake it, "it's the least I can do. You raised a fine young woman. Not many are willing to put themselves on the line for others."

"I didn't know they'd try to take away my scholarship," Artemis replied honestly.

"Still, it was brave."

If only this pampered rich guy knew what she did at night. "Thanks," she said.

He gestured for them to lead the way off of the school grounds, and once they got to the gate she noticed a very expensive black car, with a man in a suit and an old-style hat, like in the movies, holding the door open. "Change of plans, Alfred," the billionaire said, "we'll be going out for ice cream before heading home."

"Very good, sir," the guy answered in a very proper British accent, "May I suggest the park across the street, Master Wayne? A vender is usually stationed near the playground at this hour."

Grayson laughed, "You get ice cream while waiting for me to get out of class a lot, Alfie?"

"Never while on duty, Master Richard."

The man had actually kept a completely straight face while answering, so Artemis couldn't be entirely sure if he had been serious, but Bruce Wayne laughed and looked to her mother, "Shall we?" They walked to the park and exactly were Wayne's driver had said, there was a guy selling ice cream and popsicles. Everyone got one and they had barely taken three steps before Bruce Wayne tripped over what she could only assume was uneven pavement, and ended up with half his face covered in vanilla ice cream. Grayson nearly fell over laughing, her mother seemed shocked and Artemis herself tried to cover her grin by taking many small bites of her cookie ice cream sandwich. The billionaire wiped his face with a napkin before smiling sheepishly, "Sorry, I've always been fairly clumsy."

The incident would have been forgotten as the billionaire expertly started a conversation of "small talk," but Grayson continued to chuckle.

After a bit her mother blurted, "You're nothing like I've read," and instantly blushed, "I'm...I'm sorry, I..." it was strange to see her mother so flustered.

"It's quite alright," Bruce said politely, sounding like he got that all the time; he probably did. Artemis herself couldn't deny that he was charming. She wasn't about to let her guard down though, she was still on the fence about him. Grayson had looked resigned when those jerks were hitting him, if Wayne was hurting him, she wasn't going to just sit by. If he was hurting the kid, Batman should have done something by now, though, right? Batman wouldn't be stopped by money.

Suddenly, Grayson perked up, all smiles, "Hey, look, Bruce! Can I..." his smile fell away as he glanced to Artemis and her mother, "Sorry," he finished quietly. Artemis' suspicions rose further.

Wayne looked around, confused for a moment, then what Artemis could only describe as something mischievous and a little playful lit the billionaire's blue eyes. He gave the kid a challenging smile, "Go; but don't get that uniform too dirty or Alfred will have my head."

A huge grin split Grayson's face as he quickly rewrapped his popsicle and pushed it into his guardian's hands. He quickly shed his blazer and practically threw it at the billionaire "Thanks! I've been been practicing something new!" He called as he dashed ahead.

Bruce didn't take his eyes off of the boy as he leaned down and spoke to both her and her mother conspiratorially, "He rarely gets a chance to show off to anyone other than Alfred or me."

Artemis was sure the confusion showed on her face, but Wayne seemed delighted and after a moment she looked back to Grayson.

The kid was sprinting toward a bench near the playground. Halfway there, he nimbly fell into a double cartwheel to the front of the bench, that turned into a handspring that he used to summersault over the back of the bench and catch the handrail that was behind it. She and her mother both gasped as the boy flipped around the bar like an olympic gymnast on the uneven bars, his feet skimming fractions of an inch over the sidewalk with every flip. On one round, at the top, he held himself up, lifting one arm off before flipping under again one handed. He released the bar and she swore that wasn't her gasping, as he somersaulted twice in the air before landing on the back rest of the bench his arms lifted high in the air, as if to say: "ta da!"

Wayne started clapping, and she tore her eyes away from the skinny little mathlete to look at the billionaire. The look in his eyes was something to see, almost as amazing as the crazy acrobatic feat from the kid. He looked proud, but it was more than that. It was a look she'd never seen in her own father's eyes and had only seen in her mother's rarely.

She glanced back to the kid; he was doing a one handed handstand on the bench's back rest. Wow, that kid could teach Robin a thing or two about acrobatics. Where the hell did he ever learn that?

"So it is true?" Her mother asked, "I'd read that his parents were acrobats, that they died preforming, I didn't know he was one as well."

Bruce's smile fell, "I was there that night, the Grayson's were amazing. All of them."

"The mob?"

Bruce nodded, "Because the circus owner wouldn't boy down and pay for this protection. After, Zucco tried to kill him, too. Used his connections t make sure Dick was sent to juvenile detention instead of foster care. Put a bounty on him. The first night, right after he'd watched his parents die, a group of boys beat him so badly he was in the hospital for a nearly a week." He looked right at Artemis with such intensity, "I know it still frightens him."

Artemis looked back at the boy still holding the handstand. Was that the look she'd seen?

"He certainly could use friends like you," Bruce said, "one willing to watch out for him."

Artemis watched Grayson; he was giggling as he did a backflip of the bench, back onto the sidewalk. Wayne's smile instantly returned as he addressed the kid, "Only two somersaults? I thought you wanted to show off to these ladies?"

Grayson blushed, "I didn't have enough momentum for the four."

"The quadruple somersault was what he was famous for," Bruce bragged proudly.

Artemis was astounded, all of her teammates could learn something from this kid.

"You can do four?" Her mother gasped.

Grayson beamed, "It's easier on the trapeze. I've got more room."

"You have a trapeze?"

Again, Grayson seemed embarrassed, "Yeah, Bruce got it for me for my ninth birthday. I don't practice that much anymore. It's just for fun."

"And only when Alfred or I can be there. He fell once and missed the net. Scared us half to death, finding him on the floor."

Grayson shrugged, "I broke my arm. It wasn't that bad. But someone at school called the police, said Bruce hit me or something. Reporters suck."

"Language," the billionaire admonished.

"Sorry, Bruce," the boy mumbled quietly as he pulled his blazer from where it was draped over the older man's arm.

Silence fell over the group as they continued walking and eating their respective treats before her mother broke it, "You said he was trying to be recruited for an "advanced math" program?"

She looked at her mom puzzled as Bruce answered, again proudly, "Yes, thirteen and already taking pre-calculus."

Her mom seemed embarrassed as she offered, "You know, Artemis is having a bit of trouble with algebra. She could use a tutor."

"Mom!" She whined indignantly. She wasn't having that much trouble. Algebra was just hard.

"I could help!" Dick sounded far too excited about the prospect. "It'll be fun. Please, Bruce!"

The last thing she needed was to be seen hanging with a freshman, but Bruce Wayne was smiling, he seemed more than willing to indulge his kid. Great, that was just what she needed, to have a spoiled brat helping the charity case. "Sure, chum. It'll be nice to see you spend time with someone your own age."

The adults chatted about the details as they circled through the park, back to the school and fancy car with the personal driver. She was really starting to regret trying to be helpful. She should have known, it wasn't the road to heaven that was paved with good intentions. Now, she was going to Wayne Manor on Thursday for schooling after school. At least Dick seemed to notice how unhappy she was and had stopped smiling, or looking at her for that matter. It was obvious she had hurt his feelings. Why would he want to tutor her anyway? The rich kids all avoided her at best, and taunted her at the worst. This kid was the richest in the city. Why would he want to be seen with her?

The British guy in the hat opened the door and bowed, but Bruce turned to her mother, "Please, let me have Alfred take you home. Again, it's the least I can do."

Artemis laughed, she could just imagine this fancy car driving through her neighborhood, the poor driver wouldn't make it out.

Her mother started to refuse, but that Bruce Wayne charm that she'd read about came out full force. "Please?"

She wished she could have recorded the whole encounter, she'd never seen her mother be so star-struck. Instantly, Bruce's driver had a hold of the back of the wheelchair for her mother to slide into the back seat, and expertly folded it and slipped it into the trunk, "Hop up front, old chum," he said to Dick and motioned for her to follow him to the driver's side where he opened the door and let her slide into the middle before climbing in himself. The driver closed the doors and after a quick request of her address, they were off.

The adults made more small talk and faster than she'd thought, they were in front of her home. It took so much longer on the bus. Bruce made no move to get out and she wondered if they were going to sit there for a bit when the driver actually got out and opened the door for him to step out. Her mood was getting worse and worse. She did not want to spend time with these privileged jerks. The billionaire held out his hand to help her out, but she ignored it. The driver, Alfred, had already assembled her mother's wheelchair and was patiently waiting for the woman. After a brief farewell, the billionaire got back into his car and they drove off.

She was about to make her displeasure known, when her mother sighed. "That poor boy. Even if you had been expelled, you did the right thing. I'm proud of you."

Her anger turned instantly into confusion. "You aren't mad?"

"You helped that boy. Saved him, like the hero you are. Didn't you see him? Be his friend, Artemis, did you see how happy the thought of having someone to spend time with made him? He must be so lonely."

Artemis sighed, at the very least, she'd get a better grade in math. She just hoped the kid wasn't too annoying.

Dick laughed loudly barely a moment after the Bentley drove off. "Really playing up the helpless bit, huh?"

Bruce ignored the question, the playboy persona dropped now that they were alone. "You didn't have to let them give you a black eye. And I thought you'd like someone to spend time with out of costume. Aside from West."

"But you're not gonna let me tell her it's me! How am I supposed to do that?"

Bruce smiled at him. "Think of it as another training. I have to see Gordon as both Bruce and Batman."

Dick sighed and let his head fall back against the seat, "At least I'll have someone besides Barbra to talk to at school. Maybe. She didn't seem too thrilled at the idea of spending time with me."

"You won her over as Robin, I'm sure Dick Grayson can manage."

"Why do I feel like we're going to be practicing cover back stories for the next couple of days?"

"Just a refresher," Bruce nodded, "You can never-"

"Practice enough," Dick sighed, "I know. How welming."

Artemis spent all of Tuesday and Wednesday filled with dread over having to spend Thursday afternoon at Wayne Manor. She noticed Dick Grayson frequently in the halls, but he didn't bother her. She was a little glad that he at least seemed to understand that she didn't want a tutor.

It wasn't until lunchtime Thursday that her brain actually registered what she had seen over the last two days. Dick Grayson wasn't just avoiding her, he avoided nearly everyone. With the exception of a few of his math-team teammates and that red-head, he didn't speak to anyone.

Once they were at the mansion, she found out her mother had been correct. He was just lonely. The rich kids made fun of him because, to them, he was just another charity case, albeit in a different way; and the scholarship kids, like her, avoided him because he was rich. He wasn't stuck up or snobby. He didn't talk down to her. He even explained algebra in a way that was easier to understand than Mrs. Kinder.

Soon, she had a B+ in algebra and looked forward to Thursdays at Wayne Manor almost as much as her weekends at Happy Harbor. Dick spoke to her about everything from his parents and past as a circus performer, to his best friend, Wally, who lived in Keystone City, and how they'd shared a dorm at a science camp nearly four years earlier. She briefly wondered if it was Kid Flash, but Keystone couldn't be that small of a town.

He also mentioned a club he belonged to, where everyone used nicknames. He'd seemed almost embarrassed when he told her of his fear of them treating him differently if they found out his real name. She was pretty sure anyone would already know, and he had a bit of hope flash in his eyes when she'd stated that, but after a moment he dismissed the idea said he was really careful, so they probably didn't. She had to shake her head at that, and laughed at what "rich kids" did for fun.

Other than the weird, "no names allowed" secret club, he was just a kid. Sure, he was a couple years younger, but it didn't really change anything. She watched out for him at school, making sure the bullies stayed away and he helped her keep her grades up to keep her mother happy.

He even said that he'd invite her to the next fancy function that would take place at the manor after she'd made a joke about the art gallery opening he'd been complaining about having to go to next week.

She wasn't one for fancy parties, but he promised that it was fun pranking some of the snobbier guests. It was something to look forward to; something she could gossip to M'gann about at the very least.