A/N: I SWEAR I'M NOT DEAD. I've just been swamped lately, and it's my fault. (Still so much to do -_-")

BUT! I got this done, and I can post it, and I'm so happy, and I'm rambling. I can't say when regular updates for all my stories will happen, so they'll remain in HIATUS statuses until I have a handle on life.

BY THE WAY: JASON IS NOW 17, DICK IS 15, AND TIM IS 12. I messed with the ages again. FORGIVE ME PLEASE.

Anyways. MUCH LOVE TO YOU READERS WHO PUT UP WITH ME! :D

Please enjoy this chapter!

Talon In The Belfry

Chapter Two

Jovan Lombardi. Italian. Moved to Gotham when he was seven to live with his father after his mother died in a robbery gone wrong. Sixty-four years of age, white skin, green eyes, and 6'1" tall. Never went to college but did enroll in the GCPD academy. Retired cop running for mayor. Lives in City Hall district, and has been employed as a security guard for the past ten years in Wayne Enterprises.

Talon re-folds its notes. There had been more information on the file it'd been given, but Talon only found some of it relevant.

For example. The file had detailed Lombardi's regular breakfast and the time he left his house. Talon only found the latter information relevant, so it'd been included in the notes. There had also been dinner time and time of return. Talon only fount the arrival time relevant.

If there is one complaint, however, it would be the target's neighborhood. Talon absolutely hates City Hall district. The houses are too close together and the house numbers are so small—it's annoying.

With a sigh, Talon glances at the watch on its wrist.

07:13 blinks back up at it.

Talon has been sitting on the ledge above the entrance to Lombardi's home for two hours and twelve minutes. It always has a maximum of five hours to spend on an assignment, and two of five have already gone by.

...Talon has waited for longer before.

According to the information gathered by the Court, Jovan Lombardi should be leaving in seventeen minutes. Now Talon is left with only one problem—one it's been struggling with for two hours and twelve minutes.

Boredom.

Being unoccupied, Talon decides to practice its' acrobatics. It does a handstand, holding the position for three minutes before shifting onto only one hand. This position Talon holds for another three minutes. With a short huff, Talon slowly bends its arm to begin doing one-armed push-ups.

Talon does it for four minutes with the right arm before switching to the left and doing the sort-of routine over again.

It is amazing, to Talon, how nobody has noticed. It would seem Lombardi is the only early bird in this block.

How boring.

Initially, Talon supposed it had to be cautious. This target is a dangerous one who works in ensuring security, so odds had been the man would know how and where to install security cameras.

Apparently not.

Lombardi has cameras pointed at windows, entrances, the driveway, the yard and the corners, but none pointing up. Really, in a city with vigilantes, you'd think people would use common sense—especially former officers and current security guards. Utterly disappointing.

Slowly, Talon re-positions itself and checks the watch again.

07:27

Talon sighs. The next three minutes pass at a snail's pace but, when they do, Talon is tensed and ready.

At precisely seven thirty, Lombardi exits the house. When he turns to lock the door, Talon drops down behind him silently and presses a small blade against Lombardi's neck. The man freezes, hands going still on the doorknob.

Talon nudges Lombardi forward.

Some may not think it but few Talons kill with a preference of location. Talon is one of them.

Lombardi starts to open the door but Talon notices a very subtle shift in his stance, and is therefore prepared when Jovan tries to elbow it in the gut. Talon growls, having caught the arm with its free hand and, in one swift movement, Lombardi's elbow is dislocated with Talon's other hand slapping over his mouth to muffle the cry of pain. Once the weak attempt at escape is over, Talon shoves Lombardi forward more forceful. This time he obeys and opens the door, stepping inside with Talon still holding the blade lightly against his jugular.

Once they're both in the house, Talon kicks the door shut behind them.

Talon shoves Lombardi, removing the blade from his throat, and trades the nondescript knife for the one with the Court's logo on the end of the handle. The only trace of the Court's hand in this.

Lombardi stumbles, barely catching himself, and whips around to face his attacker for the first time. When his eyes land on Talon's intricate uniform, it says, "The Court of Owls have sentenced you to death."

Jovan Lombardi barely has any time to process the words before Talon's blade buries itself in his chest, piercing his heart.

Talon watches Lombardi's face finally—finally—express fear as he takes his final, strained breaths. It watches as Lombardi crumbles to the ground, hands hovering over the blade. It tilts its head at the dead body that is left a few minutes later, and the growing pool of blood, before stepping over the body carefully to go wipe the security recordings.

As it walks to Lombardi's former bedroom, Talon looks at the decorations on the walls of the hallway. Pictures are sprinkled on the amber-painted surfaces. Most of them are from Jovan's time in the GCPD; the time he graduated from officer to detective, when he met the mayor of Gotham, when he met Thomas Wayne, and other mundane things. No family photos. Just awards, trophies, medals, and celebratory pictures. Talon merely shakes its head, entering the vacant room and easily locating the small security setup in the closet. Talon can't help but wonder: why the closet? There are other rooms available—well, they're all available now—like the attic, or garage. Either of those choices would have been smarter.

Once Talon has finished wiping the discs, and once he has pocketed them, it exits the house from the window of the attic. Maybe Lombardi didn't put the setup in the attic because of the window? It would have been good reasoning...

Talon ponders Lombardi's choice as it makes its way back to the main city.

Pausing on a rooftop for an unnecessary break, Talon sits on the edge with its legs dangling off the building. It sighs, eyes closing and head tilting downward. Times where Talon relaxes are rare but, as it lets the smoky Gotham air fill its lungs and the sounds of the rather peaceful morning city rings in its ears, Talon decides it should do this more often.

...until it hears a camera shutter click.

Talon whips its head toward the sound, instantly alert, and is met with the sight of a small, ink-haired, bright blue-eyed boy. And does the child ever look afraid.

Tension bleeds from Talon's body and it shifts to a standing position, eyes still on the small boy. As it stares, Talon realizes the child looks tiny. Like a small fledgling.

As the boy scrambles back, tripping and landing on his butt, Talon merely wonders why such a small child is out alone at this time.

Slowly Talon begins to approach the cowering boy, arms out to the sides and open palms facing him, as it tries to show it means no harm.

Why would it hurt an innocent boy for being curious? A memory tries to force its way back to Talon's mind, but struggles to and fails, and leaves quick as it wanted to be, never to be thought on again.

The boy whimpers and tries scuttling further back on the gravelly rooftop with the camera dangling from his neck and, okay, Talon supposes the kid is smart to fear a Talon from the Court of Owls, but it won't hurt him!

Getting a bit frustrated, Talon crouches and tilts its head at the boy, extending a deadly gloved hand.

The boy hesitantly lifts the camera, and Talon is unsure what the boy is asking with the motion, so it does not move. The child ends up snapping a picture, to Talon's surprise, and takes a slow look at Talon.

Not sure what to do, Talon merely reaches a bit further and opens its palm wider.

The boy stares at the sharp-tipped glove for about a minute before inching closer to Talon's hand. He extends his own, tiny hand and hesitates for a second, before touching Talon's glove and taking its hand.

Under the mask, Talon...

Smiles.

The boy gives his own small, shy grin, then speaks.

"Hi... You're a Talon, aren't you?" The question is asked curiously, with great interest, and Talon finds itself nodding.

"Can you talk?"

It hesitates at this question. Should Talon tell the truth? No. No, it can't risk any more than it already is. Plus, the boy would ask too many questions, Talon can tell.

Talon shakes its head and the boy frowns a bit, scooting closer. "O-okay. My name's Tim. Tim Drake." He tilts his head. "I've never met a Talon before... Nice or otherwise."

Charles is the nicer one. He'd talk to you. Talon removes its' hand from the boy's.

He's about to say something when Talon holds up a hand to cut him off. Gesturing to the watch on its wrist, Talon tries to get its fledgling to understand that Talon needs to leave.

Talon does a mental double-take at its thoughts. Talon's fledgling? What? It's just met the boy! This is—it can't be—

Talon gives a small huff at itself.

Tim sighs but nods.

Talon returns the gesture, straightening and patting its fledgling's head, before flipping off the rooftop onto a neighboring one.

As it returns to the Nest, all Talon can find itself thinking about is the small, innocent new fledgling. How someone can be so... pure, is beyond Talon's comprehension.

-line cut-

The second it enters the Nest, Talon is swarmed upon and roughly incapacitated. Its hood is harshly yanked from its head and Talon growls, lip curling.

"That is not Talon Udesis," Grandmaster's voice rings out in a cold, clipped tone. "Leave it be."

Talon shakes itself free, glaring at the other Talons assembled before asking the newer one what is going on with Charles.

"Talon Udesis has abandoned the Court," it explains, eyes narrowing. "Udesis has abandoned you."

So he really did it. Congratulations, Charlie. Find the Bat before the Owls find you. Talon bends to pick the hood up from the floor, gripping it loosely in its hands. Briefly glancing into the golden goggles, Talon catches a glimpse at its eyes.

They've finally turned a solid, vibrant gold. Both of them.

Shaking its head, Talon puts the hood back on and makes its way to its private quarters.

Four hours of discipline are soon to arrive. That is all Talon can think about, now, as it arrives to the room.

Talon heaves a soundless sigh.

Well, at least it completed the assignment.

A/N: *City Hall district is a thing!

THANK YOU LOVELY READERS AND HAVE AN AMAZING WEEK!