A/N: I own nothing you recognize.

So, a guest commented on the first chapter that they hoped this wouldn't be a cliched story where Naomi loses her memory. Guest, if you have stuck around this long, then you know that, indeed, Naomi has no recollection of her time in Gotham as a hero. And if you have stuck around, I hope you've enjoyed the story. If not, I understand and I'm sorry to see you go (even though you wouldn't be around to see this comment).

I'll admit, when I first conceived of this idea, to have Naomi get taken back by Vandal Savage, it seemed pretty obvious to have him erase her memories and implant new ones. There was a reason she ran away when she was ten, and that was because something didn't feel right about what she was learning. Savage never gave up on the hopes of one day being reunited with his best agent, and while he would have preferred her to come back of her own volition, that obviously didn't happen. So to keep her with him, he would have to make her think she had been with him her entire life.

Anyway, I hope this explains a little why I went the direction I did. This is also the longest chapter currently posted, so I hope there's enough to keep you satisfied until the next update (though probably not, since I'm not entirely sure when I'll be posting again).

Tirich Mir, Hindu Kush Mountain Range
Thursday, May 31, 2011
1302 PKT

Daisy wiped the sweat from her brow with a towel as Yoshi Hara collected his equipment.

"You have progressed well," he told the twins once he was upright again. Both bowed and thanked him, which he waved off with a light smile. "No need for that, children," he assured. "It is my pleasure to train you."

A League member was waiting for Chad and Daisy as they exited the room.

"From Ra's," the young blonde woman said with a hint of a Russian accent. She passed a note to Daisy before walking away.

With a frown, Daisy unfolded the small piece of paper. She raised an eyebrow as she skimmed the message before crumpling it in her hand with an eye roll.

"What?" Chad asked.

"It seems Ra's has a mission for me," she said, sounding less than thrilled.

"Are you kidding?!" Chad exclaimed. "Why aren't you celebrating?"

"Because of who I have to work with," Daisy grumbled.

She passed the note to Chad, who unrumpled it to read its contents. When he reached the end, he burst out laughing.

"What is so funny?" Daisy demanded.

Chad didn't respond, just shook his head, a light smile still on his face as his chuckles failed to die.

"What's with all the merriment?" a new voice asked.

Daisy rolled her eyes with slight distaste. "Think of the devil," she mumbled to herself. She turned around to face said devil. "Rahim," she addressed dryly.

"I see your sister still likes me," Rahim grinned, though his eyes were on Daisy. "You ready?"

"Give me a minute," she sighed. She turned to Chad. "I'll see you in about a week."

"Don't kill anyone while you're gone," Chad whispered as he leaned down to kiss her forehead with a chuckle.

"No promises," she responded with a wry smile. A few minutes later, she was walking through the massive front doors with a duffle bag slung across her body. Rahim was waiting for her by a small plane.

"Let's get this show on the road," he said brightly.

Daisy just rolled her eyes and tossed in her duffle before hopping on herself. Once she and Rahim were seated, the plane took to the air.

She sighed once they had reached altitude and stared out the window at the fluffy clouds below. It had been nearly six weeks since she had last talked to Rahim, though they had seen each other around the compound and had been in a few training sessions together.

"How's your arm?"

Daisy looked away from the window to find Rahim had taken the seat across from her. She glanced at her right upper arm, where the slash she had received from her sister was in the process of healing.

"Scabbing nicely," she shrugged before turning back to the window.

"Glad to see you didn't need stitches," he said.

"I told everyone it was just a scratch," Daisy muttered.

"if you have a problem with me, you might want to air it out," Rahim said bluntly. "We will be spending a week together."

Daisy frowned slightly. It was true. She didn't know him, but she was being cool toward him for no particular reason.

"You're right," she said, her tone slightly surprised. "I apologize for that."

"No worries," Rahim said with an easy smile, a smile that seemed to be his signature.

Daisy took in his posture: relaxed in his seat with his arms rested on the armrests, completely exposing his chest to attack.

"How are you so...laid back?" she asked, becoming conscious of her own posture: straight back and leaning into her left armrest, her hands clasped loosely in front of her and her right arm glued to her exposed right side.

Rahim seemed to notice the same thing because he chuckled and got to his feet.

"What are you—" Daisy asked quickly, her eyes following him as he walked around to the back of her seat.

"I'm helping you," he said as he rested his hands on Daisy's shoulders. She tensed. "I gotta know, though," Rahim said as he slowly eased Daisy's back into the plush seat. "I've heard you were one of the best spies in Vandal Savage's camp. But you stick out like a sore thumb; how did you get that reputation?"

"Excuse me?" Daisy raised an eyebrow and leaned forward again so she could twist in her seat to stare at him. "I'm a perfectly good spy!" she exclaimed.

"Guess we'll find out." He winked before walking to the back of the plane.

Daisy grumbled under her breath and slumped in her seat. Who was he to judge her? Then again, who was she to judge him? With a huff, she pulled the deep hood of her League-issued jacket before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Paris, France
Thursday, May 31, 2011
1807 CEST

"I'm awake."

Rahim raised an eyebrow and chuckled, withdrawing the hand that had been reaching for Daisy's shoulder and moving to sit in the chair in front of her.

"You're good," he commented.

Daisy lowered her hood. "Of course I am," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I talked to the pilot," he said. "We'll be landing in about thirty minutes." Daisy hummed in response and went back to staring out the window. "Here."

She glanced back at Rahim and saw he was holding out a manila folder. Daisy reached out and took the folder before leaning back in her chair. She opened the silver tabs and flipped open the closing flap to reach the contents inside.

"All the documents and paper work you'll need for our stay in Paris," Rahim explained as Daisy flipped through the sheet-protected papers, a new passport declaring her to be Bridgette Ming of Paris, France.

"Who are you?" she asked, glancing at Rahim.

"Julian Azar," he answered. "There should be an itinerary in there," he added.

Daisy rifled through the pages again and found the schedule. "We're going to an opera?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the page. "It says it's the opening of the piece; do we need an invitation?"

Rahim snorted, causing Daisy to glance up at him. "We're members of the League of Assassins," he said. "We don't need an invitation."

"And how do we explain who we are and why we're there?" Daisy challenged.

"There's a bio for you to read," he said. "If you need to, just spin off of that."

"So we're doing this just because we can?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" she shot back.

Rahim exhaled sharply in irritation. "Look, we've been told to do this," he said. "That's the only explanation we need." After a pause, his expression grew questioning. "I thought you would have been taught about need-to-know at the Academy."

"Just because I learn something doesn't mean I'm going to follow it."

"Whatever," he said, rolling his eyes. "We'll take separate cabs from the airport to our hotel," he pushed on. "There will be clothes for the week provided." Rahim reached into a bag by his side and pulled out a cell phone and a small booklet.

Daisy caught both items easily before glancing at the booklet. After leafing through the pages, she turned on the phone.

"There's only one number in there and it's the one connected to my phone," Rahim explained. "Apps have been installed but disabled; you just need to pass it off as the phone of an everyday student."

They spent the last few minutes of the flight in silence, which was fine by Daisy. Once the plane landed, they grabbed their bags and stepped off the aircraft.

Two sleek black sedans were waiting on the tarmac, each of the drivers standing at the passengers' side backseat door.

"{See you tomorrow,}" Rahim said in perfect French before approaching one of the cars. The driver opened the door for Rahim before closing it behind him and walking around the front of the car to get into the driver's seat. The engine started before pulling away smoothly.

"Mademoiselle?"

"Oui, oui," Daisy said as she walked toward the second car. She offered the young man a smile as she climbed into the backseat. She stared out the tinted windows as the engine turned over.

It was just a few minutes to the hotel, situated on the Champs-Élysées, and it wasn't long before Daisy was standing in her room.

"Home sweet home," she muttered. She could have been put in a worse room, that was for sure. The king-sized bed was the main focus, the remaining area set up with a small sitting area with a loveseat and a chair around a coffee table, all across from a flat-screen television.

Daisy dropped her duffle bag on the bed and began pulling out the drawers from the chest under the T.V. to put away the clothes she had brought. Once the duffle was empty, she walked to the closet and tossed it on the floor. A garment bag was already hanging, and Daisy figured it was for the opera.

With a huff, Daisy glanced at the bedside clock. It was about half past six, and the city was still buzzing. Why not spend some time getting to know the city in which she would be spending the next week or so?

Paris, France
Saturday, June 4, 2011
0926 CEST

Bridgette Ming didn't glance up when a body dropped into the seat across from her.

"{Nothing startles you, does it?}" Julian Azur chuckled.

"{No, can't say anything does,}" she deadpanned, still not looking up from her book.

The waitress came back when she saw the new body at her table and after Julian ordered, the table grew silent: Bridgette reading and Julian people-watching.

It wasn't until both had finished their breakfasts' that Bridgette finally looked at Julian.

"{We haven't done anything since we got here,}" she said, slightly irritably. "{I thought we had a job to do.}"

Julian dropped a folded piece of paper in front of Bridgette. She raised an eyebrow but picked it up and unfolded it. In small, neat print was an address and time.

"{What is this?}" she asked.

"{Just meet me there,}" Julian grinned. "Au revoir."

"Yeah, yeah," Daisy muttered as Julian placed a few bills on the table. He winked at her before placing his sunglasses on his nose and strolling down la rue.

Opéra National de Paris
Saturday, June 4, 2011
1903 CEST

"Monsieur! Monsieur!"

Bruce Wayne smiled politely as he stepped out of his limo, carefully straightening his tuxedo jacket as he did. He waved as he walked down the path cleared by red velvet ropes, pretending to ignore all the reporters shouting questions at him, most of them, "What are you doing in Paris?" and "What brings you to the Paris opera tonight?"

He sighed in relief once he was inside and the reporters turned to the next person exiting their car. Most of the people inside didn't spare him a glance, for which he was grateful. Those who did look at him were mostly the women, and Bruce didn't want to stop long enough for them to gather the courage and approach.

Once he had shown his ticket and reached the appropriate floor, Bruce walked to the bar.

"Old Fashioned, s'il vous plaît," he said to the bartender.

"Oui, Monsieur."

Bruce thanked the man again once the glass was in front of him. He had just raised the drink to his lips when a feminine voice called out, "Brucie?" He tensed before realizing who the voice belonged to and he relaxed.

"Ronnie," he greeted with his first genuine smile on the trip once the woman reached him.

"It's been a while, Brucie," Veronica Vreeland said as Bruce kissed her cheek in greeting.

"Has it?" Bruce asked, wondering how that could have happened. The red-headed socialite was someone he had known since before his parents' deaths. Though originally from New York, Veronica's mother was a Gotham native and another member of the city's elite. As a result, Veronica would spend summers with her parents at their Gotham residence and attend any event that took place.

"The last time I saw you," Veronica said as she waved down the bartender, "I was just finalizing my divorce."

"Right," Bruce nodded, recalling the charity dinner from February. "So, how is single life treating you?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "What a cliché line," she said with a martini glass at her lips. "I expected better from you, Bruce."

"My apologies," Bruce chuckled. "But seriously, how have you been?"

"Oh, you'll be sorry you asked!" Veronica exclaimed, her dark azure eyes growing bright with excitement. "First of all, you won't believe who I saw while in Rome! It was just after my divorce..."

But Bruce was no longer paying attention to what his friend was saying. Naomi had just stepped out of the elevator.

"Who paid for the tickets?" Daisy muttered under her breath to Rahim once they had shown their opera tickets at the door.

"Don't worry," Rahim whispered back. "Everything's legit."

"If you say so," she mumbled. In a normal volume, Bridgette said, "{So, is this what all the fuss was about?}"

"{Yes,}" Julian replied with a chuckle. "{Though truthfully, I think we're only doing this to make him happy.}"

While Bridgette wasn't sure which "he" Rahim was referring to, she shrugged and let it go.

"{This way.}" Julian put an arm around Bridgette's waist as he started for the elevator banks.

"What are you doing?" she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"We're on a date," he reminded quietly. He glanced down at her and saw her smile was strained. "{Relax,}" he soothed. "{There's no need to be nervous.}"

"{You're first time to the opera house, my dear?}" an older woman asked with a kind smile.

"{Yes,}" Bridgette said, rubbing her bare arm while her tense smile morphed easily into a nervous one. "{It's just so...}"

"{Overwhelming?}" the woman suggested.

Bridgette laughed a little. "{Yes,}" she said again. The elevator dinged, signifying their floor and also sparring Daisy a longer conversation with the stranger. "I hate you," she muttered under her breath to Rahim as they stepped off the elevator. Rahim just laughed and led Daisy to the bar.

"{What would you like?}" Julian asked Bridgette as he leaned casually against the polished wood surface.

"{Rosé,}" she said.

He waved down the bartender and after showing their I.D.s, ordered the wine for Bridgette and a scotch on the rocks for himself.

Once their drinks were placed in front of them, Rahim lifted his glass to his lips. "Do you see the man behind me, talking to the red-headed woman?" he murmured.

Daisy gave a brief nod of her head as she took a sip of her wine. She had noticed him almost immediately. He was maybe in his early thirties, with black hair slicked back neatly and clear azure eyes. His tuxedo was immaculate and his shoes were polished so well Daisy figured he could see his reflection in them.

However, it had not been his good looks or even his location—directly in her line of vision as she stepped off the elevator—that had made her notice him. It was the fact that his eyes had widened when he spotted her and had held a recognition in them that startled her. It had been gone in an instant and he went back to chatting with the woman in a navy blue gown beside him, but Daisy had had enough training to read his expression.

"What about him?" she asked Rahim.

"Just keep an eye on him," he said quietly.

"What? Why?"

"{I think you'll enjoy this opera,}" he said instead.

"{Oh?}" she said, her lip twitching downward in displeasure at his side-stepping. "{What makes you say that?}" she asked, relaxing again and falling into the role of Bridgette Ming.

"{So?}" Julian asked as the house lights came on.

Bridgette glanced sidelong at him and wrinkled her nose slightly. "Pass," she muttered under her breath.

"Is that so?" Rahim whispered in her ear as they waited to join the flow of people waiting to exit.

"{What about you?}" she murmured back, turning her head slightly to find herself nose to nose with him.

"{What about you}" he repeated.

"{Give me a good ballet any damn day,}" Bridgette grinned back.

"{Really?}" Julian asked, sounding surprised. "{Who knew?}"

Bridgette rolled her eyes. "{Everyone at the Academy,}" she snorted. "{Part of standard training.}"

"{Oh, dear, you're classically training?}" a woman interjected, dripping in furs and diamonds; Bridgette immediately disliked her. "{Have you considered auditioning for the Paris ballet?}"

Julian glanced down at Bridgette, who looked as though she was trying not to laugh. "{No,}" she said, clearing her throat. "{School for me.}"

"{With your looks, who needs a brain?}" the woman exclaimed with a robust laugh. "{Just consider it, honey!}"

Bridgette's demeanor changed in a flash. Her smile dropped and her eyes became cold and it took a subtle pinch to her side by Julian to remind her of where she was and the role she was playing.

"{It's true, though,}" he whispered in her ear again. "{You do look quite nice tonight.}"

"{Just nice?}" Bridgette questioned, relaxing slightly. "{And just tonight?}"

"{I was under the impression you didn't like me,}" Julian said, quirking an eyebrow.

"{Doesn't mean a girl will turn down a compliment,}" she smirked.

"{I'll keep that in mind.}"

Bridgette glanced behind her to see Julian with an innocent smile and she just rolled her eyes.

They stepped into the elevator and as the doors started to close, someone called out in poor French, "Hold the doors!"

A man standing by the controls pressed the button and the people inside the elevator shifted to make room for the tall, well-muscled man who was slightly out of breath.

"Merci," Bruce Wayne said to the man who had held open the doors, who nodded before turning back to his date.

Bridgette glanced at the richest man in the states. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, and whistling the theme of the opera, oblivious to the looks the native Parisians were giving him.

The elevator ride was a short one and once Bruce Wayne had wandered away, Bridgette turned to Julian.

"{Will you tell me now why you told me to keep an eye on Wayne?}" she asked.

"{Tell me what you observed,}" Julian responded in lieu of a proper answer.

Bridgette huffed but followed along. "{He looked like every other rich person here,}" she stated.

Julian rolled his eyes. "{What else?}" he asked.

She was silent for a moment, reviewing all she had observed from her limited time around Bruce Wayne.

"{He looked relaxed,}" she started. "{But he also seemed to be acutely away of his surroundings.}" Julian nodded. "{When we were standing at the bar, he was carrying a conversation with the woman he was with, but he was also watching everyone else. When we were in the elevator, he was an American in Paris; he didn't try to blend in with the crowd.}"

"{Good.}" Bridgette eyed Julian suspiciously.

"{It sounds like you know something I don't,}" she said accusingly. "{I don't like not knowing.}"

"{Anything else?}"

Bridgette's nostrils flared ever so slightly as her fists clenched at her sides. When Julian's expression didn't change, she took a deep breath before replying, "{Given his actions tonight, he's more than just the playboy billionaire the papers paint him as. So, the question becomes: who is he?}"

Julian nodded. "{Good,}" he said again. "{We'll get a cab back to the hotel and then we'll get to work.}"

"{What are we doing?}" Bridgette asked, feeling her heart beat pick up at the anticipation of going on a mission.

She grumbled profanities under her breath when Julian ignored her and flagged down a cab instead. The short ride to the hotel was quiet and Bridgette dashed out of the cab when it stopped. She was already at the elevator banks by the time Julian caught up with her.

When they reached their floor, he said, "Let me change and we'll set up in your room," before turning right.

"Yeah," Daisy grumbled as she turned to the left for her room.

After unlocking the door, she propped it open with the secondary lock before unzipping her dress and letting it pool on the floor. She pulled the pins from her head as she walked into the bathroom, letting her long, heavy hair fall from its messy low side bun.

Daisy let out a relieved groan as she massaged her scalp before tossing the jeweled pins onto the bathroom counter as she passed. After sweeping her hair into another bun, this one higher on her head, she redressed in a tank top and shorts.

She walked into the bathroom and began removing the makeup before finally washing her face. Once she had rinsed away the soap, she remained leaned over the sink to let some of the excess water drip into the sink.

"How long are you going to stand there like a creep?" she called, holding out her hand.

Rahim chuckled as he finally stepped into the bathroom and placing a towel in Daisy's outstretched hand. She smothered her face with the soft towel as she straightened. Once her face was dry, she found Rahim leaning against the counter, dressed in his tux pants and a fitted white undershirt, his back to the mirror and his head turned to the side.

Daisy rolled her eyes as she stepped around him to get back to the bedroom. "Now you decide to honor my privacy," she snorted as she tossed the towel behind her without a glance.

"It's not my fault you left the door open," Rahim countered, catching the towel easily before under-handing it onto the bathroom counter.

"So, what's this work we're going to do?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips expectantly.

Rahim placed his duffle on Daisy's bed and began pulling out supplies. She raised an eyebrow.

"We're not actually going out?" she asked as Rahim set up two laptops and began plugging them into the wall and into each other along with about a half a dozen other cables.

"I don't think I ever said we were going out," he said. "I just said we were going to work."

Daisy huffed before climbing onto the bed and pulling one of the laptops closer to her.

"Hey!" Rahim exclaimed, snatching it back. "I'm not done!"

"Whatever you say," Daisy said dryly. Rahim rolled his eyes and went back to work. After a few minutes, he finally arranged the laptops in front of Daisy before joining her at the headboard of the king-sized bed.

The laptop in front of Daisy showed another hotel room, and by the style and decorations, she guessed it was another room at this hotel.

She raised an eyebrow. "Who are we spying on?" she asked.

"Wait for it..." Rahim said as he began typing out a string of code on the laptop in front of him.

"You know, I'm getting really fucking tired of that answer," she snapped.

"It'll be worth it," Rahim said coolly, unperturbed by her hard glare or cursing.

Sure enough, a moment later, Daisy was sitting up straighter on the bed.

"Bruce Wayne?" she asked, only mildly surprised.

Rahim rolled his eyes (again). "After all the questions I asked you after everything you observed, did you really think we would leave him for the evening?"

"Point taken," Daisy muttered. She glanced over at Rahim's laptop again, the code finally making sense to her. "How do you expect to get that bug on his computer without directly sending it to him?"

"Ever heard of spam?"

Daisy's eye roll was more aggressive than Rahim's had been. "If we suspect he's not the brainless playboy he pretends to be, don't you think he'll be careful not to open a spam email?"

"That's why we'll be sending it to his assistant."

"Look who's clever," Daisy said with begrudging respect. "So, when does this little beauty go live?"

"In three...two...one." With one final keystroke, the email was sent.

"Now how do we—"

"Know it worked?" Rahim finished. He closed the window on his laptop and another camera image appeared, this time from an office building.

The camera was turned to the back of Bruce Wayne's receptionist, a young blonde woman who appeared to be getting ready to leave. An email alert pinged, and she turned to her personal computer again.

"Ooh," she said as she opened the email link. "Cute."

"And here we go," Rahim said. He closed the camera view to a new home screen.

"Do you really think there'll be anything on Wayne's work computer?" Daisy asked as she leaned over to get a better view of the computer screen, her tank top riding up her back slightly as she did. She ignored the chill, her attention fully on the working code.

"There might not," Rahim admitted. "But even so, we'll be able to get onto Wayne's personal phone and laptop once he gets close enough."

"If that's it, why are we watching Wayne?" Daisy asked, flopping back to her side of the bed.

"Because he's a person of interest," he said as he began breaking down his set-up.

"Whose?"

"Ra's."

"Why does Ra's have such a keen interest in an American billionaire?"

Rahim side-eyed Daisy. "Do you always ask so many questions?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Daisy snapped back. Rahim rolled his eyes as he finished packing up the laptops and cables.

"We leave in two days," he said, standing and slinging the bag over his shoulder.

"That's it?" Daisy demanded, jumping to her feet and running to block Rahim's exit. "We travel to Paris, have no plans, and then watch a stupid opera just to get eyes on Gotham's White Knight?"

"Your point?" Rahim sighed, leaning against the wall.

"My point," she growled, "is I usually don't operate without knowing what the mission is."

"You're not working for Savage now," Rahim said coldly. "Ra's and Vandal might be allies, but they do not play by the same rules."

His icy tone didn't phase Daisy. "Care to fill me in?" she challenged.

"Sorry," he said, stepping around her. "Ra's explicitly told me not to tell you."

"Nuh-uh." Her arm shot out to stop Rahim from leaving. He sighed tiredly, standing just in front of her and off to the side, meaning to glare at him, Daisy had to crane her neck up. "You don't get to just drop this bomb on me, that you know and I don't deliberately!" she declared. "Tell me."

"Sorry," he said again, leaning down to speak in her ear. "Can't help you."

Daisy shoved him back. "Ass," she grumbled before marching back to her bed. Rahim just chuckled as he walked out of her room.

Wayne Manor
Friday, June 10, 2011
2156 EDT

"We're home, Master Bruce."

He sighed tiredly, leaning his head briefly against the cool glass of the door's window. "Good to be back," he admitted as he straightened and got out of the car.

Alfred raised an eyebrow but remained silent. He could only image what Bruce had discovered was something big if it had him this shaken up.

And it was true. Bruce hadn't been able to think of anything else but seeing Naomi at the opera. It was obvious she was playing a character, with the flawless French and easy-going conversation with her companion. But the question was why was she there? Who was the young man? And why did Yoshi Hara's credit information lead him to Paris? Was that just a coincidence, or did Yoshi know Bruce was on his tail and thus sent him on a wild goose chase? Or did Yoshi know and intend to send Bruce to Paris with the express intent of him finding Naomi?

Those questions distracted Bruce through the house and it wasn't until he was seated in front of the Batcomputer in the Batcave that he collected his thoughts and turned from worried kinda-father to world's greatest detective.

He pulled out the watch he had been wearing at the opera and after removing the back, connected it to the computer so he could download the pictures he had managed to take. He leaned back in his chair as he waited for all the files to transfer.

"My word..."

Bruce whirled around to find Alfred standing at the bottom of the steps.

"Is that..."

"Yes," Bruce nodded, turning back to the computer, which showed the last picture uploaded.

It was the last clear shot of Naomi, as she and her companion were standing in the elevator. She looked more adult, with more makeup than the two men were accustomed to seeing on her but not overdone. The dress was strapless and rose pink with a full-length, two-layer skirt, the bottom layer solid and the second sheer. Both skirts had a modest slit up the left leg, coming to a stop at the knee. Her nude heels gave her an extra four inches, and her hair was swept to the side in a low, messy bun, held in place by pins decorated with small pink crystals, which matched the stud earrings and choker necklace she wore.

"But I thought you were going after that Ninja chap," Alfred said, confused.

"So did I," Bruce admitted. "But I went to the opera, and lo and behold, there she was."

"Who's the young gentleman with her?"

"Not sure..." Bruce said slowly as he closed all the pictures but one, "but if I can get a hit from the facial recognition algorithm..." He boxed the young man's face off before saying, "Computer, start facial recognition."

"Facial recognition, started," the computerized voice announced.

"Who's the dude?"

Bruce whirled around again, this time to find Dick walking toward them.

"Someone I ran into during my trip," he said. "Have you taken your finals yet? Or is that next week?"

Dick rolled his eyes. "Next week," he said. "Anything I can do on this guy?"

"No," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Right now, all we can do is wait."

"All right," Dick nodded. "I'll go change, and then I'll be ready to go," he said.

"Sounds good." Bruce smiled at Dick as the young hero jogged to the changing room before turning back to the computer. He opened the images again and after one last look at Naomi, closed the tabs for the evening.

A/N: They've seen each other!

What do you think of the chapter? Of Rahim? If you have any questions about Daisy's/Naomi's companion, feel free to ask!

I'd love to know what you think of the story thus far.

Until next time.