Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Batman, Nightwing, and all the references pertaining to the DC Universe.

AU. Officer!Dick. Fem!Damian. Dick is in his mid-twenties and Damian is 21.

Enjoy reading!

Chapter 1 – Damsel Not in Distress

"Ugh!" Damianne stormed out of her father's office. The loud bang of the very heavy wooden door echoed and startled her father's secretary. Abruptly, she snatched her jacket from the lady with more force than necessary frightening her even more. "I'll show you irresponsible!" She angrily muttered under her breath. She stabbed the elevator button and started to wait for it to come but decided to run down the stairwell instead. She needs to let off some steam anyway.

"M-Ms. Wayne!" Rachel, the secretary stammered.

Damianne turned around and fixed her with a glare as if saying Don't you dare. The said secretary took a wary step back; eyes wide and in near panic. Mr. Wayne will likely fire her for not getting a hold of the situation. She's gonna have to start looking for a new job, she knows it. Just then, said man yanked the door open and step through it.

"Damianne! Get back –"

As soon as she sees her father, Damianne didn't hesitate and ran down the staircase. She has two options, go back to the manor and rehash what happened with Pennyworth which will only result to one thing – she has to apologize even though nothing she did was wrong. But Pennyworth is Pennyworth and what he says goes, even if nobody acknowledges it. OR. She can show her father what irresponsibility really is. Option two it is. She sped up and sighed in relief when the doors gave way when she turned the knob. She was so sure her father would immediately access the doors and lock her inside the building. Not that she can't hack into the system and let herself out. What's even more surprising is when not even one of the security sentinels stationed in the lobby went after all. But Damianne didn't let that fool her; she knows her father is cleverer than that. So she sped up even more and made sure to get lost in a crowd.

Twice she retraced her steps to make sure she's not being followed by one of her father's incompetent security people. She can take care of herself, thank you very much. A quick change of clothes bought for the sole purpose of not getting tracked by what she wore, Damianne found herself standing at the entrance of the train station. Her phone in hand, she dialed the only person she knows won't pass any judgment on her.

"Cassandra."

"You got into an argument with Bruce." Her best friend said in greeting.

Damianne sighed. "Just..I am fine. Father is being stubborn. Yet again. I will contact you in the morning." And without further ado she hung up knowing Cassandra, or Cass as she is better known as, won't be bothered by it. She said what she needed to say.

She came into the train station and promptly fell in line with other Gothamites planning on getting some out of town time. It is surprising how many people are lining up for a ticket. There's a lady who seems to be dragging all her belongings with her. She's struggling to haul two over-flowing almost bursting enormous suit cases. Then there's an old man in a mediocre suit with a briefcase. Damianne narrows her eyes at him but dismisses him. Her eyes then settle on a young man dressed casually but elegantly with a trashy woman hanging off his arm. "Tt." Right then she's at the front of the line.

"One ticket to the earliest train out of town." Damianne demanded and laid down cash. The teller immediately went to work, recognizing the tone that leaves no room for questions.

"Here you go, Ma'am. One ticket to Bludhaven. Gate 9, train leaves in 10 minutes."

Snatching the ticket while searching for the right signage for the gate, Damianne walked with purpose leaving behind whispers floating around her.

The Haven as the club is aptly called is packed with people letting loose – women scantily clad and men dressed to impress. Or so they think. In the far end of the bar, one Richard Grayson, or Dick as he likes to be called, observes a woman dancing without a care in the world. He's been watching her since she came in through the door, eyes dead set on a mission. What that is he has no idea. But there's something about this girl that sets something inside of him. He doesn't approach right away though, he bids his time. He wants to know more about her and he can do just that without talking to her. He scans the crowd – bodies grinding against each other, hands groping, and hips shaking. He keeps an eye on what kind of crowd the woman attracts, silently watching out for her if just one of them even tries to touch her inappropriately. After all, it is his duty even if he is on his day off.

He's been nursing his bourbon for a while now, he all but stopped drinking when Miss Blue Eyes entered the establishment. There's this magnetic feeling that pulled him to her. Like his gut is telling him to look out for her, that there's something special about her. And he never ignores his gut because that's the one thing he can trust. So he watches her. As discreetly as his position allows him.

Dick sees her throw back one too many drinks and frankly he's both worried and impressed. Her eyes are a wee bit unfocused from all the booze she's been practically inhaling. But they're beautiful, nonetheless. They're darker than when she first came in but still holds a promise of stubbornness and an air of dignity. Dick thinks her face is not like any other. She's not quite pale, her skin is a tad darker; a hint of a heritage that is exotic and sexy. That coupled with her high cheekbones just makes him insane. She moves incredibly graceful too. Like her body is commanding the music, ruling over every beat, taking charge of the tempo. And that's what sealed it for him. Being an acrobat, he can spot a fellow gymnast. The fluidity in her movements might need some work but Dick can help her with that.

After hours of just watching her, Dick finally decides to take matter into his own hands and saunters over to her. His strides become wider and his pace faster when he sees a muscular guy feels her up from behind. Dick is about to pry the bastard's hand off her when he arrived just in time to hear the bastard howl in pain.

"OW! Bitch!" The idiot curses as he holds his nose in one hand and his family jewels in the other.

"You insolent cretin. You had the gall to touch me? You are very fortunate to have only gotten so far." She says matter-of-factly. Damianne was about to throw another punch when Dick acted on instinct and went between the two.

"BPD," Dick flashed his badge in front of the idiot. "Scoot before I take you in for assault." The guy is gone even before Dick turns to face the woman he has been watching.

"I have no need for your assistance, Officer."

Dick sighs. It wasn't supposed to be this way. His plan was to be his charming self and converse with the lady. With what he'd seen so far, his respect for her just climbed a notch. Her demeanor is not what he expected however rough it seems. He's not going to let that change anything. In fact, that cemented his decision to get to know her better. Dick likes that she's independent and can take care of herself.

"I'm not trying to get in your way, Ma'am." Dick flashes his most charming smile.

"Tt."

Damianne startles at his gaze. Suddenly, the temperature rose significantly. Eyes dropping to the charming smile that she must have left a trail of broken hearts. He leads her towards the Haven's exit and away from any more idiots who might want to try to go near her.

"Just so you know, I scared him off for his sake." The officer mock whispers.

Damianne smiles at that. And she's confused to see a look of pride from his eyes. She ignores the flush of her cheeks and retorts, "So you can finally come up to me after watching from your perch at the bar."

He freezes in his tracks and looks over to her. "I thought I was being discreet," Dick awkwardly touches the back of his neck. "I'm not creepy, I swear." His eyes meeting hers, sparkling in earnest.

"I would not have allowed a conversation to last this long if I thought otherwise." She nods towards the exit, "I need air." And Dick follows her out without protest.

He found her sitting on the pavement with her legs crossed, her skirt neatly concealing her thighs (thank heavens they're not as short as the ones the others were wearing). Her hands are on either side of her body, head thrown back as she gazes up the stars.

"Isn't it beautiful?" He comments as he sits down beside her. "It's unusually clear tonight."

He can smell her. Indian jasmine, Tahitian vanilla, and a hint of some sort of rose that blends well with the air of sophistication she carries and another scent that is uniquely her own. Dick chuckles. He finds it amusing that even after all these years, he can still name the different variety of flowers. All those times he spent shadowing his Mami while on tour pays off. Feeling the weight of eyes watching him brought him back from his reverie. Smiling, "Richard Grayson," he sprang up and bowed with a flourish, "at your service."

"Damianne," She hesitates for a moment. "Damianne Al Ghul." She decides, nodding as if to convince herself.

He tilts his head to the side in silent question but doesn't say anything; tucking away the memory. "But you, princess, can call me Dick." Grin spreading across his face.

"Don't call me that." Damianne snaps. Dick lets out an outrageous laugh. "Y-your face!" He pants, his hands over his stomach.

She looks at him, really look at him, curious as to why being in the presence of this man oddly gives her comfort. Damianne is even more surprised that he hasn't run for the hills yet like all the other people he encounters.

She stiffens as she hears a second laughter blending in with Dick's until she realizes it's hers. She gazes at her in astonishment. Perhaps her trip out of town is not a waste.