"I can't believe Babs isn't coming," Dick sighed dejectedly.
"She has a life, too, you know," Jason reminded him as he changed into his Red Hood suit.
Dick didn't reply but instead slipped on his eye mask.
"Time to go," Jason called to him over his shoulder. He led the way out of the room and into the general Batcave.
One hour ago…
Selina Kyle let out a cry of surprise as her favorite cat, Isis, leapt from the car where she had been riding shotgun and out the open window.
Within seconds, the cat had slinked off into the darkness, melting into the shadows.
Selina debated briefly between calling after the cat, seeing as they were about five miles from her apartment, but decided against it. After all, Isis had a keen memory and had been left from her home much farther than this.
Selina rolled up the window and kept on going.
Still one hour ago…
Isis tread carefully along the all y, padding silently, her tail kept meticulously curled above the filthy ground. She sniffed disgustedly at the eye-watering odor emanating from the garbage cans overflowing onto the street.
She was following a scent she had picked up on her mistress' suit. It was odd and yet very distinct. Narrowing her cerulean eyes, Isis continued her journey towards what she was sure was the source of the scent.
At the end of the ally, Isis discovered the source of the scent; a large, sleek black car parked along the street.
Isis crept closer, wary of the gleaming vehicle. Sniffing to be sure, she drew closer still to the car and ran a claw along the base, leaving a barely there rivet, so small it could hardly be noticed.
Nothing happened. Isis wedged a claw beneath a rivet on the underside of the car and, propping herself up for more leverage, popped open the hatch.
A cloud of black dust flew out and Isis sneezed twice, her small body seizing up as she did so. Afterwards, she shook her head and continued with her investigation.
Picking at the tools she found inside, they clattered out, the echo of the metal hooks clanging onto the cold ground making her flinch.
Suddenly there came the sound of boots hitting the ground very close by. Moving quickly, Isis silently set the rest of the tools out of the way and heaved herself into the small space under the car.
As she heard the car door open and close, Isis hooked a sharp claw around the handle of the opening and brought it towards herself, closing it just as the car rumbled to life.
Back to the present…
"I think we all have to admit that was all me," Jason insisted.
"It wasn't," Dick rebutted. "In fact, it was all me."
"You wish, Dickie-bird," Jason mocked.
"If that was anyone in particular, it was me," Cassandra interrupted.
Dick and Jason turned to look at her. If she weren't there, they would have gone into a four hour long argument over which of them had been the most valuable in a skirmish with a street gang. But since she was, at Bruce's insistence no less, they had settled for a small scale argument and a three second long shoving match.
They knew that Cassandra didn't actually believe that any one of them was the most valuable and that she had only said that to make them shut up. But they also knew that arguing with her would be a very, very stupid thing to do.
The trio patrolled on.
Tim swiveled around and around in Bruce's office chair, miserably staring up at the ceiling. Stephanie stifled a sigh. She had been down here for the last hour and it was quickly becoming mind numbingly boring.
"I should be out there with Cassandra and Bruce, not in here," Tim moped. "Stephanie, how long do you think you'll be missing out on patrol?"
Stephanie rolled her eyes at him. "Tim, I don't know. Most of the time it's around six to eight weeks. Okay?"
"Not okay," Tim grumbled. "I can't believe Bruce is being so mean."
"I'll believe it," Stephanie countered. "He got mad at me when I hit a girl at my school once."
This got Tim's attention. Perking up immediately, he spun his chair to face her. "When did that happen?"
A flush appeared mysteriously on Stephanie's high cheekbones at Tim's full attention on her. "There was this really nasty girl at my school. She was always elbowing me and pulling my hair and all kinds of stupid stuff. I guess she just wanted attention."
A slow smile spread across Stephanie's face, twin dimples indenting her cheeks. Tim cocked his head to the side, his brilliant scientific brain trying furiously to work out why he couldn't seem to stop looking at her all of a sudden. He almost jumped when she spoke again, so focused he had been on analyzing her beautiful smile. "She definitely got my attention, that's for one thing. I got sick of it one day and I dislocated her knee. I swear, I didn't even try, she was just annoying me and she wanted a fight, honest to God, and I just-"
"Snapped," Tim finished her sentence with her. He knew how she felt. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
She smiled wider and Tim's heart skipped a beat. He realized that the only reason that he was just finding out that Stephanie was actually a girl was because he had never really looked at her before. But this story had got his attention and shown her a different light. A very appealing light, he might add.
Stephanie shifted slightly and Tim realized that he had been caught staring. Oops.
"So," they both began, eager to break the silence and both stopping immediately.
"No, you go," they tried again, with the same result.
They lapsed into another silence, one that should have been awkward but was just comfortable and, if possible, comforting. They were both stuck in the Batcave for the next month and a half's patrol, it was true, and they were both tied together when it came to how they were going to go back to the streets as their alter egos, it was also true, but they had gained a considerable amount of comfort from the connection they shared over the bratty children at their respective schools.
"What was the girl's name," Tim asked finally.
"What?" Stephanie smiled apologetically at Tim, her heart tapping faster. "Sorry, I was distracted."
"By what," he inquired curiously.
By your perfect face. By your perfect mannerisms. By your perfect way of saying the perfect thing perfectly. "Nothing, just…thinking."
He nodded absently. "What was it that you said to me," Stephanie asked.
"Oh, I was just wondering what that girl's name was."
"Nicole. Nicole Bowers."
"I think I know her brother," Tim frowned, trying to remember. "Blonde and chubby, right?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Stephanie replied, half her mind on the conversation and half trying to calm her erratic pulse which was pounding like it was thinking about putting her into cardiac arrest. She knew full well that it was at the length of the conversation she was having with Tim. She tried to pretend it was the coffee ice cream she had had for dessert that was making her pulse beat so insanely because it was just too big of a blow to her ego to admit otherwise.
"Well, it doesn't matter," Tim shrugged. He leaned forward suddenly, his blue eyes glittering. It took every ounce of Stephanie's self control to not lean forward as well but he was so close, and she didn't know if she could keep a hold of herself for much longer. He continued speaking and she clamped down on her rebellious thoughts. "Hey, I was thinking-"
"Intruder," the screen bellowed.
Stephanie and Tim nearly passed out from shock. Then, as the cool mechanical voice continued it's screaming, their faces drained of all color. Tim let out an expletive as he spun around, trying to locate said intruder.
"Intruder, intruder," the screen continued.
Stephanie and Tim ducked into a small area hidden away from the main Batcave. If Stephanie's heart beat was wild before, it was nothing to what it was now.
"Okay, this is what we're going to have to do," Stephanie whispered quickly. Tim listened carefully. Despite the thoughts they were having before, the two of them crammed into the tiny area wasn't even registering in their minds. All they needed right now was Bruce and fast. "We need to call Bruce and wait until he gets here. Tell him where we are."
Tim nodded and snapped out his emergency phone that he kept tucked into the secret pocket in the tongue of his sneaker. He called Bruce and praying to whatever gods were listening, relayed the message in a hushed whisper.
"You two listen carefully," Bruce's voice was tense and they could hear him sprinting, presumably towards the Batmobile. Or so they hoped. God knew it wasn't towards the nearest Starbucks; that was for damned sure. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm alerting Cass, Jason, and Dick. Hang on tight and I'll be there in less than ten minutes. Do not go out there."
"Okay, Bruce," Tim breathed into the phone. His hands were clenched tightly around the phone and his eyes were impossibly wide. Despite the fear, though, there was also courage and determination.
"Wait," Stephanie pulled the phone towards her and spoke fast. "Bruce, what about Alfred?"
There was a beat of silence and then a growl. "Don't leave where you are," Bruce repeated. "I'll be there soon. Don't get Alfred. He'll be fine. He is upstairs, isn't he?"
"Yeah," they both whispered.
"He's dusting or something," Stephanie informed him. "I saw him when I went up for a glass of water. I don't think he's coming down here."
"Good. I'll call him once I'm in the car just to warn him. Remember; don't do a thing until I get there. I'll call again once I'm in the car."
There was a click as he disconnected the call and then they were just two scared kids stuck in a small cranny of the Batcave, trying desperately not to die.
From Bruce's perspective…
Bruce sprinted along the street, hoping that he would get there before the intruder, whoever it was, could find them.
Once he was in the car, he slammed the accelerator. Using the car's built-in phone, Bruce called Alfred first and informed him of the situation at hand. Once he had gotten Alfred to swear on Britain's national security that he would not go downstairs and attempt something heroic, he called the rest of his team.
"Not really a good time," Nightwing's voice sounded in the car's phone system. Thankfully, the team had gotten earpieces built into their suits and they didn't have to juggle a phone while on patrol.
"Nightwing, there is an intruder at the Batcave."
"What?"
"An intruder in the Batcave," Bruce snarled. "I'm on my way; you three head back immediately. Drop everything and go."
He hung up before Dick could say a word.
From Isis' perspective (one hour ago)…
Isis hopped out of the car's box and inched her way slowly across the tiles of the Batcave. Her already large eyes opened even bigger in the near total darkness of the section of the cave where Bruce had parked the Batmobile.
Sniffing suspiciously, Isis followed her nose and burrowed deeper into the Batcave, investigating the mysterious atmosphere she had found herself in.
Catwoman's perspective (present)…
Catwoman found the Batmobile easily enough. It was hidden in shadows and was painted black but still, it wasn't too hard to distinguish in the dark. She wandered closer and sank to her knees by the side of it.
Securing her bullwhip around her waist, she slid underneath it. Flexing her fingers, she dug her claws into the metal workings of the car, careful not to pierce any vital piece of the car.
She swung her booted feet up onto two wire hangings, which she supposed could have been part of the car when it transformed into a submarine or whatever, and adjusted herself.
Basically, she was supporting her entire body onto the bottom of the Batmobile and her only means of support were her feet and claws and she was too worried about them falling off while the car was in motion to put too much force on them.
Most of her body weight was just being held in check by her muscle and determination.
Just as she was shifting to get more comfortable, Catwoman heard the thud of heavy boots hitting the ground fast. Okay, she thought, take me for a ride right into the Batcave.
From Isis' perspective (present)…
Isis slinked around a twist in the Batcave, her curiosity intensifying when she couldn't reach her target. Rising up onto her hind legs, she launched herself onto the tall shelf she had been investigating and set off a screeching alarm.
"Intruder, intruder," it screamed over and over again.
Isis yelped and shot off towards the gigantic computer in the main area of the cave where it was more brightly lit. Running around frantically, Isis tried to find a place to escape the loud echoing voice.
From Red Hood, Black Bat, and Nightwing's perspectives…
"It was Batman," Nightwing informed them while simultaneously ducking a blow and twisting the man's arm behind his back. The man cried out in pain and Nightwing dropped him in disgust before continuing. "He says he needs us back at headquarters immediately."
"How come?" Both Black Bat and Red Hood asked at the same time.
Nightwing paused then replied, "I'll explain later."
They understood it to mean, I can't talk about it right now.
"Do we have time to finish up," Red Hood asked, slamming a left hook into the gut of the closest criminal, who collapsed like a bridge on fire.
"No," Nightwing answered shortly. He turned and began walking towards his motorcycle, the Nightbird.
"But we can't leave them here," Black Bat insisted.
Nightwing hesitated. "Red Hood, you finish up. I'll head back with-"
"I'll stay," Black Bat interrupted, neatly jabbing her index finger into her assailant's neck and watching him slide onto her feet with more than a little satisfaction. "You go back. Tell him we'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Nightwing would have argued but there just wasn't enough time for that. "Fine, I'll go," he agreed reluctantly. "Good luck."
"You too," Red Hood called to him, dodging a wild punch and knocking the man out with a jab-hook combination.
"Thanks," Nightwing acknowledged. I hope I won't need it.
Altogether, in the Batcave (except for Black Bat and Red Hood)…
They were grouped together, squashed into a closet that was never meant to hold two adult males and a teenage boy and girl.
"Okay, now would be a good time to explain what in hell is going on," hissed Nightwing.
"Where are the others," Batman countered instead.
"They stayed behind to finish up. They'll be here in about five minutes."
"They'd better be," Tim grumbled quietly.
"Is Alfred okay," Nightwing pressed.
"He's fine. He's upstairs. I made him swear not to come down," Batman assured him. Looking at his assembled team, he relayed to them the plan.
"Stephanie, listen closely; you're injured and you're in no condition to fight. First chance you get, go up the stairs and find Alfred. Stay there. Understand?"
Stephanie nodded quickly, knowing better than to argue. Satisfied, Batman turned towards Tim. "Tim, if you see Stephanie trying to make it up the stairs, you help her. Until then, you've got the right side of the Batcave."
"The right side of the Batcave?"
"Yes. You cover the right side. Nightwing and I will take the left. When Red Hood and Black Bat get here, they can take the exit area. That leaves the main area but I doubt anyone is there. I would have seen them when I got here. Once we're done, though, we'll examine that more thoroughly, too."
His team nodded and quickly got to their assigned positions, each determined to find the intruder.
From Black Bat and Red Hood's perspectives…
Black Bat flipped her leg over her motorcycle, adjusting her grip on the handles. She saw Red Hood do the same on her right side. Just as she was about to start it, she heard a voice in her earpiece.
"Black Bat and Red Hood. Do you copy?"
"Yeah, I do. What do you want, Nightwing?"
"The situation I was talking about earlier? Someone broke into the Batcave."
Black Bat felt her jaw go slack at the news and somewhere in the corner of her mind a little voice told her to close her mouth. Numbly, she obeyed.
Red Hood inhaled sharply then blew out. "Did you find them?"
"Not yet," Nightwing answered, sounding disgruntled. "I just got the plan. Tim has the right side of the cave, you and Black Bat have the exit area and Batman and I have the left side. Got it?"
"Yes." They answered in unison without thinking about it.
"Alright. See you in five."
Altogether in the Batcave…
They had been searching for at least two hours. It was nearing one in the morning. The adrenaline rush was starting to fade.
Stephanie had managed to bolt upstairs with Tim's help an hour and a half ago. Now, Nightwing thought miserably, she was probably eating some of Alfred's cookies.
He quickly stopped that kind of unproductive thinking but it was difficult. They had switched positions at least three times each, which meant that they had each searched each area of the Batcave themselves and found nothing.
No one would ever say it, of course, except maybe Jason, but they all were having serious suspicions that maybe the alarm system in the Batcave was dysfunctional.
God forbid.
"Alright," Batman finally spoke into his earpiece, startling him. "All meet back in the center."
Once they were all huddled there, Batman sighed. "I'm not sure what happened here," Batman admitted. "But we have to decide. Do we keep looking or just lock down the area until morning?"
"I want to say keep looking," Black Bat sighed. "But at this point, I don't know how much good it will do."
"Same," Nightwing agreed. "Maybe they already left the way they came."
"I think we should lock down the area for one thing," Red Hood opined. "And after that…" he shrugged. "We shower and go to bed. If they left, nothing we can do about it now. And if they didn't, well, we'll find them in the morning."
"That does make sense," Black Bat concurred. "Batman?"
He looked conflicted. "Fine. We're done tonight."
Just as they reached up to peel off their masks, a mewling sound caught their attention.
"Do you hear that," Black Bat asked, her fingers frozen around the base of her mask.
"Sounds like a cat," Red Hood answered. "What the hell-?"
A perfectly composed cat was coming towards them in the dark, her deep blue eyes glittering at them. Her tail swished back and forth and she walked as though she was royalty.
Suddenly, Nightwing bent down and tried to scoop her up. She let out a howl and slashed at his chest with her claws.
"Damn," Nightwing hissed. He tossed the cat towards Red Hood, who grabbed the cat around its front legs and held it up, far away from himself.
"Are you telling me," he began slowly. "That we've been searching this entire time for a cat?"
"This is absurd," Black Bat burst out. "How did she get in?"
"It isn't absurd," Nightwing broke in, glaring at the cat. He ran a finger over the long bloody gash across his chest. "It's ridiculous."
There was a short silence before Red Hood snarled, "Are we going to do something with this cat or am I going to have to hold her for the next few hours?"
From Catwoman's perspective…
Catwoman's fragile grip on the Batmobile was quickly deteriorating. Her arms, shoulders, abs, and all of her legs ached with the effort of holding herself up the way she was doing for the four hours she had been under the car.
She hissed inaudibly as a claw slid out of the underside of the car a fraction of a centimeter. Ignoring the burning in her back and arms, she shoved the claw back up.
The only thing that was keeping her there was the fact that she could still hear her cat screeching at somebody named Red Hood. Whoever the hell he was, he had better put her cat down. Now.
As she heard Batman tell them all that the night was over, Catwoman nearly sighed in relief. Thank goodness.
She couldn't hear any steps on the stairs but they were trained to point where she supposed they simply didn't make any noise. At all.
The only light left was the light in the main Batcave. With a groan of relief, Catwoman allowed herself to collapse onto the floor of the Batcave, every muscle screaming exhaustion and abuse.
Okay, she thought after about thirty seconds. That's enough. Back to work.
Heaving herself to her feet, a task that involved much swearing and throbs of pain shooting throughout her body, Catwoman glanced around the Batcave. Where to begin…
Half an hour later in the Batcave…
Catwoman froze as she heard the unmistakable sound of an exhausted pair of feet making their way down a flight of stairs. Her fingers clenched around the stack of spare eye masks she had been examining and without thinking about it, she tossed them into her bag, tightening the drawstrings around the top.
She sank down onto the ground behind a statue of Batman and a Robin, her chest constricted. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was supposed to be upstairs with the others, for chrissake!
Catwoman cursed herself for not collecting her cat from the beginning. She had thought she had enough time to get Isis at the end, not wanting to get her from the pen that Batman had placed her in and have her follow her around the entire time.
What now?
Catwoman peered around and saw that Batman had sat down at the massive computer, his long fingers tapping away at speed. A slight frown creased his forehead as he typed.
A second later, Catwoman sucked in a breath of shock. He wasn't wearing a mask. His suit was on but his cowl was off. Her gloved fingers splayed across her mouth as she tried to mask the sharp gasp but she knew it was a lost cause the second her fingers made contact with her lips.
Damn, she thought wildly, trying to gather her scattered wits. What was she going to do now?
She watched as he turned around, swiveling in his chair and examining the room with narrowed blue eyes. For all of her years of practice, skill and considerable intelligence, she was completely frozen, helpless to do anything but watch as his gaze landed on her.
Something sparked. As their eyes met, sparks flew.
Then, so fast that she could barely connect the movements, he had her pinned against the wall, her arms held fast around the wrist above her head, his gorgeous blue eyes gone cold and hard as blue ice.
"Catwoman," he breathed, never taking his eyes off her face.
Before he could gas her, or knock her out, or inject her with some memory modifying drug, Catwoman did what she always did when she wanted to distract a man in a very dangerous situation.
She leaned in as much as she could pressed to the wall, inhaled sharply, sent out a quick prayer to whoever was listening, and slanted her mouth over his.