Disclaimer: Not mine.
So many faves and reviews. You guys are probably sick of seeing 'Thank you'... so Va multumesc (thank you in Romanian). Here's the next chapter.
Chapter 12: Meeting the Commissioner
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Dick had never been what you'd call 'shy'. He was used to running around the circus grounds, among the crowds. Walking on his hands, cart wheeling at random, beaming at people he'd never met and would probably never see again. He'd performed in the Big Top, flying through the air with thousands of eyes on him. He'd never cared. Barely even noticed.
But as he walked through the lobby of the fancy hotel the benefit was being held at, he felt small. Uncomfortable with attention for the first time in his life.
He glanced around at the people they passed. Narrowed eyes, raised eyebrows, studying gazes… there were a few small reassuring smiles from the more casually dressed. Those were probably the police officers. Mr. Wayne had been right. There weren't as many of them as the 'rich and famous'. He also noticed a few kids, both older and younger, in small clusters about the room. But they seemed to be purposefully avoiding eye contact with him.
Dick frowned and moved his gaze to the floor, keeping Mr. Wayne's shoes in his line of sight. He could feel the eyes move away from his direction and almost sighed with relief. They were probably talking about him now, but as long as he couldn't hear what they were saying he didn't really care.
He glanced up again when he noticed Mr. Wayne speed up slightly. The billionaire was heading towards a more casually dressed man caught up in a conversation with one of the rich people. He was smiling and nodding, but Dick could tell from the way his eyes kept cutting to a table full of dessert what he would rather be doing.
Mr. Wayne had reached them now but Dick was still too far away to hear what they were saying. He noticed the rich man looked annoyed while the other guy looked relieved. The rich man walked away and Dick had to pause to step out of his way. He thought he heard the man mutter something like 'Stinking Wayne'.
Dick raised an eyebrow and started to walk over. Until he felt it.
He turned around and narrowed his eyes, studying every face. Someone had been staring at him. More intently than anyone else had. Almost threateningly. Dick couldn't really describe it. It had felt… familiar somehow.
He could still feel it, giving him chills. But there didn't seem to be anyone looking at him now. Weird…
"Dick?" Mr. Wayne's voice drew his attention. The billionaire was waving him over to meet the other man. He glanced over his shoulder once more, still suspicious, and joined them.
"Jim," Mr. Wayne started by addressing the other man, "I'd like you to meet Richard Grayson… I know you've heard of him." 'Jim' nodded with an easy smile. Dick tilted his head slightly as he studied him. It was the man from the TV… the one that the reporter had talked to about Tony Zucco.
"Dick," Mr. Wayne put a hand on his shoulder, "This is James Gordon. He's the Police Commissioner."
"It's nice to meet you," Dick said politely. He could tell Mr. Gordon really was one of the 'good' people, like Mr. Wayne had said.
"Nice to meet you too," the Commissioner smiled. He glanced at Mr. Wayne, "Bruce hasn't been treating you too bad, has he?"
Dick shook his head adamantly, completely missing the teasing tone in Mr. Gordon's voice. He didn't want Mr. Wayne to get in trouble with the police, "No, sir. He's very nice. He hasn't hurt me or anything."
Both men were amused by the serious expression on the boy's face, but they tried to hide it. "Of course he hasn't," Mr. Gordon said in the most serious voice he could manage, "It's just an expression, so to speak. It's another way of asking how you're adjusting."
"Oh," Dick said sounding relieved. Why hadn't he just said that in the first place? Adults were so confusing sometimes. "I'm doing okay I guess. It's just… different."
Mr. Gordon nodded in understanding. He paused and studied Dick thoughtfully as though debating whether or not he should say anything else. Finally he asked, "And how are you after that attack last week?"
Dick shrugged but shifted uncomfortably, "Fine." He looked up and tilted his head, "Is this what they call a… declaratie?"
"A statement," Mr. Wayne interpreted at Mr. Gordon's confused face.
"Ah," he nodded and gave the billionaire a slightly annoyed look. "We did try to get a statement the day after it happened. But…"
"Let me guess," Mr. Wayne said, "Alfred?"
The Commissioner nodded, "Alfred." He looked back at Dick and smiled, "But don't worry… he told us everything you said." He and Mr. Wayne exchanged a meaningful look before he continued, "That 'evening tour' line you heard could be very helpful to the investigation."
"Really?" Dick asked curiously. He couldn't help but smile softly. Even if he hadn't seen the guy, he was helping them catch him.
"Yeah," Mr. Gordon assured him, "In fact, we have a suspect. We just need something to incriminate him."
Dick wrinkled his nose, "Incriminate?" he sounded it out slowly.
"Prove he did it," the commissioner elaborated.
"Oh," Dick said again, "How long do you think that will take?"
"Mmm… hard to say. But you know, I have a feeling we'll catch a break in this case very soon," he said mysteriously. He winked at Dick, much to the boy's confusion, and then he and Mr. Wayne started talking about something called 'politics'.
Dick tried to be still and quiet, he didn't want to disturb them. But it didn't take long for him to get bored. After fifteen minutes he started shifting from foot to foot and absently looking around the room.
When everything had happened… his parents' murders, leaving the circus, Juvenile Hall; Dick had gone into a depressed state. It had been easy not to move then. It had been easy not to do anything.
He'd been slowly recovering at Wayne Manor, though. True, he still wasn't the same energetic eight-year-old acrobat. But he was still Dick Grayson. And according to his parents, Dick Grayson was built to fly. He was their 'little robin'. Nothing could ground him for long.
He remembered when he'd first started practicing with his parents on the trapeze. It had been just a few weeks before his fifth birthday. He'd been so excited, jumping and flipping all around the fairgrounds. Eagerly telling everyone he came across that 'Astazi este ziua!' (Today is the day!) By the time they were ready to get started he'd completely worn himself out.
But he'd still gone up, much to his parents' amusement. He didn't even care that he fell into the net every single time. His father had had to carry him back to the trailer. Just before he'd closed his eyes, he'd heard his mother joking that sleep was the only thing that could keep him in one place for more than five seconds.
He wasn't about to flip and cart wheel around the police benefit, but… maybe just a bit of the old, restless Dick Grayson was coming back.
He sighed and looked around for some excuse to leave Mr. Wayne and Mr. Gordon alone with their conversation. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at a small table across the room. There was a big bowl on it with some kind of drink. A kid maybe three years older than him walked up to it and poured a cup for herself. Perfect…
"Mr. Wayne?" he interrupted cautiously.
"Yes?" Thankfully he didn't sound annoyed. In fact, it was almost as though he were waiting for it.
"Would you mind if I went to get a drink?" he asked pointing at the table.
The billionaire glanced in that direction, "I suppose it would be alright."
"Thank you." He was out of there before he had time to notice Mr. Wayne and the Commissioner look at each other and nod.
Dick did look back when he got to the table, however, and frowned. He couldn't see them anymore. He narrowed his eyes but shrugged it off. He poured a cup and turned…
Right into someone else. He dropped his drink, splattering it all over the floor and the guy's pant legs.
"Oh!" he said in surprise as he bent to pick up the cup, "Sorry. I didn't know anyone was there."
"No problem, kid."
Dick froze. His heart beat against his chest and his breathing got a little faster. He swallowed and slowly looked up. Standing there in a cheap suit was a young man, maybe in his middle twenties. Sandy hair, muscular build, cold brown eyes. Dick had never seen him before… but he knew that voice.
The man who'd tried to kill him gave him a chilling smile. "It's no problem at all," he repeated, "Anymore…"
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Don't you just hate cliffhangers? :D Sorry 'bout that (not really) but I couldn't put everything in this chapter without it getting too long. Guess you'll just have to wait till tomorrow to find out what happens.
