"Holy hot rod." I gasped as we stepped outside. (Oh. Hell. Yes.) Next to the curb was parked a sleek, sliver Lotus Evora. It felt like my legs had melted. "I-what-but-I... These aren't even out for sale yet." I was still a little breathless. Dick laughed at me, a sound that didn't help my sudden jelly-like state. He walked over, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the doorway, which I realized I was still frozen by.

"Do I have to buckle you in too?" His question snapped me out of staring at the sun shining off of the glossy paint job.

"Excuse me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping away from the passenger's side of the car. "I'm so driving."

"What?! It's my car!... Sort of." Dick yelled back. I ran my hand across the hood, smirking back at the frustrated teen.

"Perhaps. But who has the keys?" Dick looked confused, and checked his pockets.

"Wait... What?" He looked back me as I jingled the confiscated item that I had just taken from his pocket three minutes ago. I wanted to laugh at his face as he had done to me just a bit ago, the sound wouldn't come, and it depressed my spirit. To hide my sudden mood swing, I opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

It took all of three seconds for me to adapt to having the driver seat on the other side of the car, but, let's be honest, I can adapt to any car. (Preferably of the foreign, sport variety.) "Get in, Little Bird." I said rolling down the window. As he got in and buckled, I started the engine. "Is it even legal for you to drive yet?" I joked, speeding out of this part of Gotham.

"I'm sixteen." he grumbled. "Is it legal for you to drive?"

... Huh. Did they take away my license? Is there some sort of rule about that? "... Touché." For a second, Dick looked worried, but then he laughed again. I sighed, losing my thoughts in the purr of the engine. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Well, if I was driving we would have been there already." I gave him an incredulous look.

"Are you saying that I'm slow?" I asked, and he laughed. I've quickly become addicted to that sound.

"No, I'm saying that you've been speeding around in circles." he chuckled. "I'm wondering if you just came for the car."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's going to be food, isn't there?" I made him laugh again. It felt nice. "... Well, and the company is pretty good, too." After fifteen minutes worth of directions and "accidently" getting lost, I parked in a private parking garage where Dick had to show the guard a member's identification card just to get in. I gave a low whistle as we walked onto the sidewalk. "I've never been on this side of town." I felt ridiculously conscious of the fact that my entire outfit cost about fifteen bucks as a woman walked by in a dress so expensive, it smelled like money... Maybe it cost twenty... Maybe.

My nerves kept my mouth shut and my head down as Dick lead me into a twelve out of five star restaurant. He didn't even need to give his name, we were immediately seated, despite the obvious line of people waiting for a table. (For crying out loud! Who goes out for lunch?!) We sat in the back, in a private booth.

The waiter left with our order of drinks. I just asked for water. "So..." I started, "This seems like a really nice place." Dick's expression was worried at the nervous tone of my voice.

"You're uncomfortable." he said. It wasn't a question, so I didn't answer. "I'm sorry, I just really wanted to talk to you, and-" I interrupted him.

"Then I suppose this place is perfect." I said. He looked surprised. "Less bad guys up here, I assume." But I still felt nervous because I had the sneaky suspicion that I was the one who was going to be doing most of the talking. It was a little awkward when the waiter came back with our drinks, then leaving again, this time with whatever Dick ordered. I couldn't tell one dish from another. Only a fourth of the menu was in English. "Where do we start?"