"Get up, Dick."

The gruff voice growling at me from overhead assured me that I'd gotten eight hours of sleep, as unlikely as it seemed. The pounding of an unusually hard pillow on my back the next second reminded me who was waking me up.

I swung an arm around, trying to shoo away the annoying presence of my next-to-youngest practically-brother. "Go away," I grumbled.

"Someone's on the phone."

"So? Have Tim get it."

"It's for you, dude."

I sighed, finally relenting and sitting up. Jason stood next to the bed, his hands shoved in the pockets of his gray sweatshirt and his red hair sticking out in every direction imaginable to frame his scowling face. Jason was only ever like this—well, pretty much always. But despite his asshole tendencies, he was my brother, a necessary addition to the team, and I'd learned over the years to tolerate his attitude.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, letting the covers fall away onto the floor. "There," I said. "Are you satisfied?"

"Just hurry up," Jason snapped, stalking off. "She won't stay on hold forever."

I followed him down from the second floor, listening to the sounds that wafted up the stairs toward me. I could hear Lynx singing a soft, lilting tune in Cantonese over a sound like sizzling meat on the stove. There were the harsh impacts of knuckles and feet with a punching bag, probably from Cass. Stephanie was on the phone, slowly reciting the seventh mailing address of the year to a client on the other line. And, of course, there was, underneath it all, the near-inaudible sound of the turning pages of Tim's latest new read.

Oh, yeah. It was definitely my kind of morning.

I trailed sluggishly after Jason with more than a few yawns, pausing to ruffle Tim's hair as I went past him. He barely registered it, making some sort of grunting noise that I assumed was a standard Timmy response to affectionate touch. Before I knew it, Jason was thrusting my cell phone into my hand, I was holding it up to my ear, and my lips were forming words. "Hello? Who's this?"

"Hey, Dick, it's me."

I couldn't stop my smile as I leaned against the wall. "Oh, hey, Babs; what's up?"

"I was wondering if I could meet you for lunch later. I have a package for you."

"Sure." I glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty already. "How's twelve-thirty sound?"

"Eleven would make me smile."

I sighed. "Okay, fine, eleven it is. See you then."

"See you."

Pretty much the second I hung up, Tim was twisting around on the couch, tugging an earbud from his left ear and giving a tiny, almost tentative smile. "You going on a date with Babs again?" he asked, as light-heartedly as was possible for him.

I smiled/grimaced at him. "It's not a date. It's a meeting. She said she had a package for me."

"Uh-huh," Steph cut in, smirking at me from across the room, the phone still pressed to her ear. "That's why you've got that airhead look on your face. Admit it, Dick; it's a date."

"It's Babs," I corrected.

"As if that wasn't synonymous," Tim remarked, sliding back down into a comfortable position on the couch so he could finish reading. You little…

"It's just Babs."

Jason smacked me on the arm with a People magazine issue and said, "It's kind of like Edward and Bella. Everybody already knows the dream lovers are together. Drop the act." He went to take a seat on the couch next to Tim, picking up the boy's feet and dumping them rather unceremoniously onto the floor before flopping down beside him. Tim didn't even seem to notice. The only acknowledgement of the action that he offered up was a tiny snort of annoyance.

Lynx thrust a plate of sausage and eggs under my nose. "Eat before you go," she insisted. "You've still got time to kill before eleven."

I smiled and took the plate from her. "Yes, Mother," I joked, heading to the table. Steph was sitting back down there, still talking to the client. I started eating regardless, knowing she probably wouldn't care much. The unmistakable tingling on my right side combined with the slight smell of sweat alerted me that Cass was taking her seat beside me. She picked at her food a little bit before starting to eat, taking small, precise bites…kind of a normal thing for her. I guess Tim was rubbing off on her a little bit, the amount of time those two spent hanging out together.

I glanced around, noticing that we were still short one person. I turned to Cass and asked, "Have you seen Helena this morning?" She nodded past my shoulder, and I turned to see the woman in question approaching the table.

She draped her arms around my neck and squeezed in an awkward sort of hug. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty," she remarked. "You gonna shower before you take off? I mean, you kind of smell like the whole zoo crapped on you."

"Ha, ha," I replied, hugging her back. "Yes, I'm gonna take a quick one and then head off to meet Babs for lunch."

Helena slipped into an empty chair next to Steph, grinning at me. "Ooh, Mr. Grayson. Lunch with the love of your life, I see."

"Don't even start."

Lynx had somehow managed to drag Jason and Tim in from the living room, just in time for Tim to comment, "You'd better have saved enough money from the last contract to take her someplace nice. All the shit Babs does for you, God knows the poor girl deserves it."

Jason playfully nudged Tim's arm. "That's my boy."

I have to admit that even I laughed a little bit, even though I tried to hide it behind a bite of egg.

You know, if anybody else had glanced around that table, they would've seen our motley crew and wondered what the hell we had to do with one another. They would've wondered why we cared so much. And it didn't take a genius to tell them it was because we all understood each other. We were on a level nobody else could even touch. Simple enough as it is to explain, we were…family. We were an honest-to-God family, if not in the conventional sense, but we still cared. I guess it was because it anchored us, but I always thought of it as just second nature. We needed each other, we acknowledged the need, and we made sure it never had to eat at us again.

About an hour later, I was showered, dressed, and ready to go. I was half out the door before I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Helena there, looking a little…disconcerted, if I wasn't mistaken. "What is it, sis?" I asked.

"I just…" She trailed off for a moment. "Don't get too cozy with Babs, okay? If anybody ever found out…she could get hurt—again."

I sighed, pushing my hair back from my face. "Helena, everything's gonna be fine. I mean, look at you guys. Nothing's happened to you."

"Can I just go ahead and tack 'yet' onto the end of that statement? And besides, we're trained. Babs is—"

"I get it, Helena. I'll be careful." I leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. "You're in charge until I get back."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Don't get caught by the cops, Mr. Eighty-Miles-Per."

I ignored the dig and headed out to the car. The little white 1990 Camaro RS sat in the driveway, looking innocent as ever. I walked around it a few times, checked for anything…suspicious…before I got in and started off. Taking the scenic route to Babs' place proved to be a little more interesting than usual; it seemed the GCPD was picking up yet another drug dealer out of Park Row. And this guy was actually somebody that I recognized; he owned an out-of-the-way sort of thrift store I used to shop at sometimes. I shook my head in dismay. There are some things you just don't do for any reason, no matter who's counting on you.

Babs was waiting for me when I got to her apartment. She came to the door smirking and remarked, "There's no minute like the last one, huh?"

I bent down to give her a kiss. "Oh, c'mon, you know you love how I procrastinate."

"I love a lot of things about you, Dick, but that's not one of them."

Having been through this plenty of times, I had getting Babs into the car, getting the wheelchair into the back, and doing it all quickly down to a practical science. I was getting in when Babs said, "I appreciate you doing this."

I shrugged, pulling on my seatbelt. "I don't mind," I told her.

Babs snorted. "It's just because I'm the only reason you get paid on time."

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, grimacing in disappointment. "You know that's not true. I love you, Babs. I always will."

It was quiet until we reached the restaurant—Italian, Babs' favorite. The conversation finally picked back up when we were seen to by a waiter and seated. Babs smiled at me over the top of her menu. "I'm surprised you had enough money left for such a classy place, Dick."

"What can I say?" I retorted, lifting my glass to get a drink. "I have siblings that keep track of this stuff for me."

She gave a chuckle and turned to retrieve her bag from the floor beside her wheelchair. "How my dad still thinks you're a decent guy is beyond me."

"Hey, I am a decent guy. It's Jason that's unbearably asshole-ish."

Babs reached into her bag and pulled out a manila envelope, reaching across the table to hand it to me. "This came in the mail last night. I figured I'd hand it off…if you're still interested, that is."

I took it from her gingerly, a little uncertain. "You know I'm always interested in another portfolio." I tucked it under the placemat. "Who sent this one?"

Babs shook her head. "I don't know; I didn't have any luck tracing the return address. None of my software could find this guy, whoever he is."

"What do you think that means?"

She shrugged, taking a sip of her water. "It could be a trap. It could be somebody who's just as paranoid as you. Or it could just be somebody messing with us. It wouldn't be the first anonymous contact we've ever had."

"That's true." I gazed across the restaurant, taking stock of my surroundings and trying to come up with a good response. "Should we look into it anyway?"

"You're the leader here, so it's your decision, but…I say go for it. It's not like we haven't taken the risk before. And even if this one goes bad, we're more than equipped to handle it. I know you guys. You'll make it work."

I hoped she was right.