To Be or Not To Be

"Well, I just thought it would be nice if we could spend some time together without everyone and his brother looking over our shoulders, that's all."

"It sounds great, but…"

"If you don't want to or are busy or something, it's okay. Really. I know you have a lot going on. Don't worry about it."

"No, no. It's not that—I like it when you come over, I'd really like to, it's just complicated, y'know?"

Yes, she knew. He was Robin, she was Batgirl. He was not quite sixteen, she was twenty- three. His father was Bruce Wayne, Batman. Her father was the Commissioner. Complicated? Y'think?

And the problem was that he was in love with her and she, though she had trouble admitting it because it was all so complicated, loved him back, despite all the problems.

They had never really discussed it, talked about it, but it was there and they both knew it, wishing there was some way to make it work without upsetting everyone's apple carts.

He was legally underage, she was an adult. The fact that he was probably the most mature and responsible person she knew didn't matter. He was a kid and she was old enough to be, well, she was old enough to be his older sister.

They hardly had any time together and there was so much going on for both of them on any given day; school, work, crime fight, so there was never time to just be together quietly. Besides, every time they did manage to get together there were always other people around—Bruce or her father or the rest of the Titans and if they weren't there, then there were bound to be either reporters or fans wanting autographs.

Just sitting in a room, alone, with no one wanting anything from them would be a luxury and he was starting to think Bruce and her father suspected and were doing what they could to subtly keep an eye on them, make sure nothing happened. Dick wouldn't be surprised to find out Bruce had the JLA keeping tabs in order to safeguard his virtue.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but sometimes it felt that way.

Their entire relationship, other than a couple of walks in the park in full view of the entire world, consisted of three pretty good kisses and a lot of e-mails and phone calls—on secure lines, of course. Every time they did manage to be together someone would make the inevitable comments about how 'don't worry, I'll just be in the next room if you need anything' or something equally blatant. It was frustrating and crossed the line to annoying months ago.

He didn't even have any serious plans—just going to the movies would be good. Maybe taking a drive somewhere or sitting on the beach would be nice if they could do it in privacy.

Well, okay. That wasn't exactly all he had in mind. Dick was a normal teenager with the normal number of hormones and the body, and impulses of a trained athlete. He could—and had—thought of any number of things he'd like to do if Barbara was willing and he'd spent too many long showers imagining…and just last week he'd come up with several variations of 'quad' which had caused him to miss several important points at the midterm history review.

But enough of that.

This afternoon he'd just shown up at her door, classes had been cancelled because of some problem with the roof leaking into the heating system and so instead of calling Alfred, he'd hopped the bus and, well, here he was. "I can leave if you want; I mean if you're busy or anything." He meant it. He really did. Please don't ask me to leave, please don't ask me to leave, please…

"Nah, it's okay." She even smiled like she was happy to see him.

Dick smiled back, encouraged, and took the hand she'd extended to him, following her inside.

He'd follow her anywhere and the couch in her living was fine for a start. In fact it was great. "Your timing is perfect; I was just about to take a break. Can you stay a while, keep me company?"

Oh, God, yes, yes. He was about to suggest putting on a movie when she asked, "Have you had lunch?"

"I'm okay."

She knew what that meant. "Grilled cheese all right?"

He'd been hoping they could stay on the couch. It wasn't that he was hoping to jump her or anything—well, okay, maybe in his fantasies he was, but he really would have liked to just relax with her and here she was getting out bread and butter and cheese and stuff…

If she didn't get off that stupid couch and a few feet away from him she knew she'd do something really embarrassing. He was still only fifteen for God's sake, even if he was beautiful and sweet and funny and she knew he was in love with her and had been for years…oh, stop it and grow up or you'll be arrested for cradle robbing and statutory rape. So here he was on the other side of the kitchen counter making small talk neither of them was paying any attention to and you could have tripped over all the longing looks he was sending her—probably without even knowing he was doing it. God, his feelings might as well have been written on his face in magic marker.

They ate the sandwiches in the kitchen, sitting on opposite sides of the table and with at least three feet between them. They were talking, laughing, making more sandwiches and then deciding that what they really needed were some fresh baked cookies—chocolate chip and hot from the oven, all soft and not quite baked long enough so they'd be gooey.

About half way through the first batch Dick looked at Barbara and wondered for a second if she was going along with this to get his mind off thinking about kissing her. "Don't be an ass. If she wanted a kiss from you, she'd just lean over a do it. Stupid." He knew that, just like he knew he was too young for her and that she had more guys, more men, after her than anyone he knew. The chances of her wanting a fifteen year old were—yeah, right. Forget it.

She watched him deflate, saw how he'd been wanting to kiss her or hug her or something and then just pulled some internal plug.

"So, what cases are you working on now, Dick?"

"Oh, um, just some guy who's been stealing jewelry from the rich women in the area. No big deal." He took another cookie. "We'll get him in a day or two; we know who he is. Bruce wants to catch him in the act."

Barbara nodded, not sure what to say next. "How's school going this year?"

Cripes, school? "Okay, I guess. Bruce is starting to get all hyped about college. You know how it is." He reached for some more milk, inwardly nonplussed—milk and cookies? How about story time followed by a nap? "So, what have you been doing?"

She gave him a look. "You know—same old."

Okay, that cut it. She was bored and wanted to get back to work. Fine, he could take a hint.

"I guess I should be going." He turned towards the door, picking up his jacket from the chair where he'd tossed it when he came in.

He was shy, she could see it, but it would be wrong to put him any more at ease. The age difference, the difference in their levels of maturity and experience. He shouldn't even be here; she shouldn't have let him in. This was a mistake from the beginning and she was allowing it to go further, she was encouraging him and she knew better. She was the adult here. For God's sake, he was jail-bait.

She smiled at him, nodding. "I have to finish what I was working on." Standing at the opened door, she felt badly for the boy, the young man, knowing his feelings were probably hurt and wishing there was something she could do to help but knowing there really wasn't. He should find a girl his own age and he likely knew that but, with everything he'd been through, the idea of a typical fifteen year old was the last thing to win his attention and they both knew it. "I'll see you soon, okay? You're all right getting home?" He nodded and she closed the door behind him, pushed the bad feelings away, took a deep breath and got back to her research.

Maybe in a few years when the age difference won't matter as much…

Three years later Dick walked into the living room at the Manor, greeting the guests who'd gathered for Thanksgiving dinner. He was back for the long weekend from Hudson and dreaded telling Bruce that he'd decided not to go back. It wasn't that there was really anything wrong with the place, it simply wasn't what he wanted to do; he hated his classes, felt constrained by being stuck upstate in the middle of nowhere and was flat out bored with the whole thing.

It wasn't like he needed a degree to get a job, right? Seriously.

He saw her as soon as he turned from shaking hands with Commissioner Gordon; Barbara was standing over by the fireplace, seeming to be enjoying the warmth from the fire Alfred made sure was burning whenever a gathering was deemed a family affair. She was wearing a knee-length dark green velvet dress which somehow managed to not look too formal and the contrast with her hair, especially with the flickering flames, was wonderful. He found himself staring, embarrassed when she laughed but then felt better when she came over and kissed him on the cheek, giving him a sisterly hug.

They'd seen each other a few times since that day in her apartment, but only with other people around, then she'd gone to England to work on her second master's degree and now she was in Washington as a member of Congress. There hadn't been any chance to talk about what almost happened and even if there had been, Dick wouldn't begin to know where to start—neither would Barbara, for that matter. It was still hanging between them.

God, I thought I'd die when he walked in the way he did. I mean I know he's not a kid anymore but I hadn't seen Dick in a couple of years and he's, he's…become the most beautiful man I think I've ever seen. It's not just his features or his build, all of which are incredible, but it's something which seems to come from within him. Intelligence, compassion, awareness, ability, talent; it's all there. He's the complete package and you just have to look at him to know it.

I know how lame that sounds, like I'm a teenybopper and have a crush on David Cassidy or something but he's become—or is becoming everything I thought he might grow into when he was younger. And the look he gave me; it was like he was thirsty and I'm the only thing to quench him.

And now he's eighteen.

The dinner went fine, too much perfect turkey and everything that was supposed to be with it and cheerful conversation with a lot of laughter. At least on the surface. Dick knew everyone in the room could feel the undercurrents and he hoped he could get through the party without something horrible happening.

"So, Dick, how are you and Lori getting along? Is that still on track?"

"I guess. She's okay." Dick looked over at Bruce; he was in 'host mode' and was making small talk. He must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel if asking about his college girlfriend was the best he could come up with—unless he was making one of his none to subtle statements. If anything would turn Barbara off it would be letting her know that Dick was seeing someone else. Thanks a lot, Bruce.

"Just 'okay'? I thought you two were getting pretty hot and heavy there."

Die, Bruce. "Not really. We're just, um, just kind of seeing each other."

Bruce gave him that smirk which let everyone know just what 'seeing each other' involved. Alfred, thank God, chose that moment to serve desert, announcing it would be set out in the family room along with tea and coffee, if everyone would be so kind as to retire across the hall.

Barbara settled next to Dick on the large sofa, facing another one of the Manor's seven fireplaces, also ablaze thanks to Alfred. Their pie and coffee were on the table in front of them, their legs lightly pressing against one another. Instead of being comfortable and companionable, it was obvious, awkward and Dick slid a few inches away.

"So you have a girlfriend." It was a statement and Dick wondered if she was disappointed then immediately kicked himself for his stupidity.

"Yeah. It's not serious or anything, it's just—you know."

Pitching her voice so no one would hear her, she leaned close to him, "I was hoping that I'd be your first, but it looks like I waited too long."

Startled, blushing and thinking he must have heard her wrong, he looked down at his hands in his lap. Shit. He knew she was staring at him, his mind was blank except for the mental pictures he couldn't escape of the two of them together. Those pictures had been running on a loop in his head for three years now.

"I mean it. I thought that day you came over—remember I made cheese sandwiches? I thought that might be it, but then you had to leave. Do you ever think about that?"

Only all the time, and he didn't leave, she threw him out.

Lori was okay, but she was starting to get annoying, to tell the truth, especially compared to someone like Barbara. They'd only been dating for like a couple of months and she was already hinting around about a ring for Christmas, for God's sake—not gonna happen. She was all right, but Dick knew he wouldn't be seeing her after he left school and he doubted if he would care any more than Lori would. Hell she was probably already scoping out other guys, knowing her.

But Barbara—if he was back in the area after the semester ended, or—better yet—if he could get appointed an intern or something for her down in DC, well, maybe…

And in a way she could still be his first; the first one who mattered.

He'd call her when he finished with school. He'd talk to her about it, ask her if she thought it was an idea worth anything. She had to, right? She wouldn't be talking like this to him if she didn't.

Maybe he could intern for me over the summer. He could come down to Washington, maybe travel with me and who knows? He's legal and if we keep it quiet—if that's possible. It could work, couldn't it? She'd have her office send out a letter of invitation to make it look innocent. Congress members brought interns in all the time. No one would think twice about it, especially a rich kid with connections—happened all the time.

She smiled at him as he held her coat for her at the end of the party. Bruce and the Commissioner were wrapping things up, Bruce was thanking everyone for coming, and they were thanking him for the beautiful evening. Dick saw there were a few snowflakes coming down; cold but perfect.

Maybe he'd call her office, see what was involved in applying for an internship. How hard could it be, right?

3/31/08

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