Author's note:
Hmm.
Bludhaven
"What you got for me this evening?"
"Hmm," Oracle said, her fingers clacking away at the keyboard. "Not much. Routine stuff really."
"Routine stuff is boring," Nightwing lamented. He sat on the upper awnings of one of the tallest buildings in Bludhaven, looking out over the city and talking to her over the comm. It'd been his home for four weeks now. Some nights he worked himself into the ground chasing bad guys, others, like tonight, were bone dry in terms of action.
He was still learning the feel of the city, both as Dick Grayson, supercop, and Nightwing. Learning its moods. Its waxing and waning. As Dick, he had the benefit of turning to his co-workers and learning from their experiences and knowledge. As Nightwing, he had the newly appointed Oracle.
Babs was doing much better now. Her upper body slowly gained strength. Her confidence and assurance in herself returning slowly and she'd found herself a calling in gathering information and running the Birds of Prey. There were still hard days, days where she curled up into a ball and couldn't function, but they were becoming few and far between.
"So make it fun," she suggested.
"Or, I could come to Gotham and we could go out to dinner."
"Raincheck," Oracle said absently and Nightwing got the feeling she was multitasking on several fronts. "Bird of Prey responsibilities."
Nightwing huffed. "Babs, I'm bored."
"Gah. Fine. Hang on." A short static burst. "Tim. Dick's bored. Entertain him."
Nightwing snorted.
"Why me?" Robin complained.
"I'm busy being awesome," Oracle said.
"I have my hands full," Robin replied. "There's a vigilante on the loose, I'm tracking her down."
"Spoiler?" Oracle said and more keyboard noises sounded.
"Haven't you nabbed her yet?" Nightwing asked, tapping his heels against the brickwork as he swung his feet.
"Oh, great. Am I on speaker?"
"Yes," Nightwing and Oracle said.
"Great. Dick, go jump off a building."
"What a fantastic idea," Nightwing said. "Except I've already done that tonight. Which is why I was bothering Babs."
"And I'm busy," Oracle said.
"Do it blindfolded," Robin suggested. "Or backward. Or one arm tied behind your back."
"Do we have a problem?" Batman asked in his ever suffering 'do I need to intervene, children?' voice.
"No," the three of them chorused, scolded.
"Less chatter on this line."
"See what you did?" Robin said after a suitable time where they hoped Batman had signed off. Which they were never truly sure of; Batman had ears in all sorts of places.
"Not my fault," Oracle said.
"And I'm still bored."
Robin scoffed. "Jesus Dick—"
"Wait, wait," Nightwing brightened. "I see flashing lights. Bye!"
"You are such a child," Oracle said.
Nightwing laughed and jumped from the building.
Freefall, such freedom and speed, he loved the feel of it, the power he could feel in the pull of the Earth as it drew him downward. With a loud 'whoop', he pulled out a grappling hook and shot it toward an adjacent building, using his downward speed to swing.
It was wonderful to work solo. Sure, villains had come to test him, test his abilities as a crime fighter and as a solo vigilante, but he thwarted them at every turn. Because, while he was solo, he still had the capacity to be backed up at a moment's notice. With the Titan Network, Oracle, Robin and Batman on his speed dial, there was no trouble he could not handle, and no fear of asking for help. Not that he'd needed it as yet. But knowing, one day if he asked, they'd be there was liberating.
Free running across the top of Bludhaven was relatively easy, if dangerous. There were some old, worn down buildings, but most had awnings, railings or shared walls which made bridging the distances between buildings easier. It was also exhilarating, Bludhaven was a playground for an acrobat.
Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Nightwing stared dejectedly at the car bomb which had caused the flashing lights he'd chased through Bludhaven.
"Babs, I 'r' disappoint," he said, woeful.
"Argh, what now?" she complained, sounding exasperated.
"It was a car fire. Nothing exciting. Are you sure you have nothing for me?"
"Call it a night. Have an early one. Come here and give me a back rub. I don't know, Dick. I have nothing."
"Back rub, huh?" Nightwing asked, grinning.
"This chair isn't exactly broken in yet," she said and Nightwing could hear the wince in her tone.
"Get some cushions."
"Or a sexy masseuse."
"Or that."
"Up for it, or should I call a service?"
"I dunno. Is that something friends do for each other?" he asked, teasing her.
She mock growled at him. "A friend would bring a pizza too."
Nightwing laughed. "Pizza and a back rub. Some friend I am."
"What can I say? I'm needy."
"All right. Let me do one last patrol and change. I'll get your damn pizza."
"Thank you!" she chimed.
"Meat lovers?"
"Yes, please."
Nightwing liked the easy, flirty relationship they were developing. More than friends, but not yet girlfriend and boyfriend. There was no rush, they were free to take their time toward a goal they both felt was coming. He doubted he'd actually give her a backrub tonight, Babs tended to skirt around increasing the physical contact between them. He wouldn't kiss her until she indicated she was ready for that, but perhaps tonight was the night.
Of course, he hadn't counted on the Puppet King trying to liberate all the toys in the local Toys R Us store by bringing them all to life and send on a rampage through the store.
"Seriously?" he asked, hesitating in the doorway as he watched the Woody dolls run around looking for anything vaguely porcelain shaped, and the Buzz and Jesse dolls pairing off. The stuff elephants ate green Lego, the toy soldiers created mock wars so they could play. "I get all the lame villains too?"
The Puppet King cackled. "Ahh, Nightwing, so pleased you could join me—"
Nightwing tossed a capsule of sticky goo at the Puppet King. "Yeah, not interested," he said as the capsule burst open and coated the Puppet King's mouth. "Can't give orders if you can't talk. Now where's your—"
As one, the toys stopped their happy frolicking and turned to face him, their blank little eyes seemed to focus. "Woah. Creepy."
In union, they all took a step toward him.
Nightwing took a step back. "Super creepy."
With a gleam in his eye which could be mistaken for wood shine, the Puppet King thrust forward his wooden hand. The toys charged.
Nightwing bounced up onto the paying counter, under the belief the toys couldn't reach him here. They piled against it, climbing on top of each other. Toy planes zipped down from the roof, their propellers working madly to keep their feeble bodies in flight. Pulling out his sticks, he battered the planes away, kicking his foot at the ever-growing toy pile.
His exploding discs came out, since toys could burn, as much as he didn't think the owners would want him destroying merchandise, he also didn't think they'd want to see alive, moving and eerily staring toys to children.
Plastic hands grabbed at his foot and he shook it to try and dislodge them. Little bodies went flying all directions.
There were just too many. Body parts blown up by his discs did not stop moving. Toys cast away came straight back again. Noise and bips filled the air, toys playing their automated sounds. Plastic mallets from drums beat at him. Barbie dolls brushed his hair with their little combs and he battered at them with his hand. Ponies fluttered around him and a unicorn stuck him in the ass with its horn.
"Oh no," he said, bringing out his ice pellets. "I'm not going down to a bunch of dolls."
It was like trying to remove a swarm of ants from his body after falling into one of their nests. He'd done that as a child. Hundreds of bites all over his body, swatting at them made no difference, they just replaced the number lost with more. It didn't help that there were hundreds of tiny calls all over the place. "Yeeha!" "Ride 'em cowboy." "To infinity and beyond!" "I'm Princess Celestria." "I'm gonna Wreak it!"
He clambered around, firing his disc, exploding toys and other gizmos which occupied toy stores. Kicking stuff bears. Throwing flowers away. Unclipping annoying princess earrings from his ears. Fleeing from the fairy wings.
The Puppet King laughed, his minions having freed him from his gag. "Get him, my minions."
Covered in toys and stuffing, Nightwing made his way over to the Puppet King. If he could just get that controller and destroy it, all this mayhem would be over.
Even if he would have nightmares for weeks about the tiny Handy Manny doll humping his leg, proudly declaring, "YES WE CAN!"
A well-placed birdarang sliced the Puppet King's controller in half.
The Puppet King looked mournfully at it as the toys keeled over all around him. Nightwing picked a piece of fluff out of his hair and gave the Puppet King a disdainful look. "You'd better run."
It was insanely easy to follow the hurried clacking of wooden legs through the darkened streets of Bludhaven and herd the Puppet King toward some willing police officers on duty.
Nightwing decided it would be better to return home and shower to be rid of all the fairy sparkles and toy make up which had decided to make themselves at home all over his face and in his hair. Babs would have a field day with teasing him otherwise.
He had a modest apartment on the east side, near the river and within walking distance of the main hub of the city. He didn't really need a massive hideout like Batman used, especially since he still had access to the Batcave if needed. But he did have a secure vault to store his uniforms in and a highly protected computer in his study to use for cases. A master bedroom, the second bedroom used as a gym, a small study, a kitchen separate from the living room, fire escape access and a car space. Simple, but that was all he needed. His N-Cycle hid in the alleyway between his building and his neighbour, protected by a hologram. A crude set-up, but Dick liked it. His N-Cycle doubled as his normal vehicle, the hologram being able disguise it as an ordinary road bike.
It was a decent neighbourhood. Most people kept to themselves and the alleyway (and fire escape) didn't have many windows facing it, nor a lot of light at night. It was easy enough to slip out of if there was an emergency.
Stripping off his uniform, he made sure it was stowed away correctly and hit the shower. He scrubbed every inch of himself to get rid of those damn sparkles, which only seemed to glue to his skin harder once they'd come in contact with water. The tiles of his shower winked at him before the sprinkles slid down the drain.
He dressed, jeans and a T, grabbed his riding jacket and headed out to his bike. He called Babs local pizza delivery, ordered a pizza to be delivered to her place in about thirty five minutes, which would give him time to arrive just as the pizza did.
Wincing and cursing the damn plastic unicorn horn as he sat down on his bike, he headed out.
He'd made it as far as the outskirts of Gotham when a raven shrieked ahead of him. Right in the middle of the freeway, the black power arched toward the sky, crying out. He hit the breaks, turned the bike to skid so he wouldn't slam into Raven as she stepped from the bird.
Thankful he was alone on the freeway, he lifted his face mask on his helmet. "Raven?"
She seemed distracted, dishevelled and glad to see him. "You need to come," she blurted.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"It's Starfire."
Dick's heart tripled its speed. "Star? What's happened?"
Raven placed her hands on the handlebars of Dick's bike. "She's drunk."
He frowned. "I don't see what—"
"Dick. She's drunk."
"She can't get drunk," Dick replied, staring at Raven.
"Exactly," Raven said and wrapped them both up in her powers.
