Hunter's Night

By Serena

A/N: Thank you all SO incredibly much. You have no idea how much your words mean to me.

Also, head on over to my Facebook page - I've just done a quick sketch of Cass Cain. :) She's portrayed at the age as she is in this series - about eight.

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I studied the man for a minute before returning the handshake. It was a firm, steady hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Tom. Bruce hasn't mentioned you before..." I glanced to my fiance, who shrugged, slightly chagrined.

But Tom - Tommy - just laughed. "Thanks, Bruce," he joked. "Well, no worries. Ran into him the other day, and he failed to mention that he had such a stunning and charming fiancee."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bruce tense.

My eyes narrowed. "Save it, Mr. Elliot. I don't think you have any call to say that I'm charming or stunning, considering we've just met and you probably don't want to offend Bruce."

"Touche," Tom said, his eyes glittering with amusement. "Bruce, you've picked one hell of a woman. And I should add, Diana, that you've picked one hell of a man to marry. You know about his reputation, I'm sure?"

I just smiled. "Did you really come here just to talk about Bruce's reputation, Mr. Elliot?"

Tom grinned again. "Absolutely. Actually, I do have the afternoon free, so to speak. How about those beers, Bruce?" He glanced at me. "If you'd like to come, offer's open."

It was an interesting offer, considering neither Bruce nor I drank alcohol.

"I'll do you one better," said Bruce, coming alongside me. "I've got a private lounge just through that door. I'll have my staff get us whatever we want, and we can catch up. How does that sound?"

I knew exactly where Bruce was going. He could have his staff give him non-alcoholic drinks while keeping up a pretense. And while Bruce had few actual friends, those friends were, in general, excellent people. I was curious to know just how far Tom and Bruce went back. Bruce rarely brought up his childhood from before he met me unless I asked him specific questions, so any friends or acquaintances of his from his earlier childhood intrigued me.

Tom nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Sounds good to me," he said easily. As we followed Bruce through a door into an adjoining room with couches, lounge chairs, and a fireplace with a huge flatscreen TV, Tommy's phone buzzed. He muttered under his breath, shook his head, and quickly fired off a text. "Sorry," he apologized, taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs, his back to the wall of windows.

Bruce and I took seats in the couch across from him, facing out towards the cityscape. Bruce slipped his arm around the back of the couch, loosely around my shoulders, and called his secretary to order some drinks. Then, he leaned back lazily, his fingers playing with the strands of short auburn hair at my neck. I shivered, and cast him a sideways glance. It never failed to amaze me how he could so easily slip into his party-boy persona. His entire pose was completely relaxed, unwound, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

If only the rest of the world knew the sheer power lurking beneath those seemingly lazy blue eyes.

"So, Tommy," said my fiance, "How's it been being back in Gotham?"

Tommy leaned forward. "Killer, Bruce. Fantastic. The hospital's been great. It feels good to be back the grind of Gotham, don't you agree?"

Bruce nodded, but his brow was furrowed slightly. "I do. I'm honestly surprised you came back here... I would've thought..."

"Because of my mom?" Tom smiled faintly, and glanced at me. "Bit of a filler - my mom died several years ago. Cancer."

Instantly I stiffened, and Bruce took my hand in his. "I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head a bit. "My mom had cancer too. I'm sorry about your mom."

Tom smiled, nodding. "Thanks. Your mom - she doing all right?"

I nodded. "Yes, she's been cancer-free for a while now. The doctors are very optimistic."

"Good," said Tom firmly. "If she ever needs anything, have her come see me. I'm a decent doctor, if I do say so myself." He flashed another grin.

"Thank you," I said, unable to keep flashbacks from the hospital and Mom lying pale in a stark bed out of my memory. "I appreciate it." I cleared my throat, and Bruce squeezed my hand lightly. I noticed Tom glancing quickly at our joined hands before he turned his attention to his drink. "So, Tom. How far do you and Bruce go back?"

"A while," said Tom, grinning. "Right, Bruce?"

"Years and years," said Bruce dryly. "Our parents were friends; we used to play together. Chess was our favorite game. We'll have to play another round, Tom. I'd also be interested to see how you do against Diana here."

Tom looked at me, intrigued. "You play?"

I nodded. "I play a mean game of chess, if I do say so myself."

Tom laughed. "Well, so far, Bruce hasn't beat me yet. We'll have to get out the board sometime."

"Are you sure you weren't a tactician in a previous life, Tom?" Bruce said with an easy grin.

"'We are what we repeatedly do,'" Tom said, his lips twisting in a strange half-smile. It was almost bitter.

"Aristotle," Bruce and I said together.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Smart woman you got here, Bruce. Might just have to steal her away for myself."

Bruce just smirked. "You haven't seen her mean right hook."

Tom's eyes glittered as he let out a bark of laughter. "I think I'll stay clear of any violence if I possibly can. I do have a somewhat important job. And I'm sure Diana's got more than a mean hook on me." He smiled, and I relaxed. He wasn't serious. I had to admit his laugh was warm, and his tone entirely joking, without any lecherous intent. His eyes were intelligent, sizing me up to see if I were as intelligent as he. He was thinking like a chess player, a smart man.

This was the kind of man I could actually have a decent conversation with.

"So your parents were friends?" I said, curious.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, my dad emulated Bruce's father. Thomas Wayne was not a man to be taken lightly. He was smart. Sadly," he added, swirling his drink around, "My dad died in a car accident. My mother almost died, too..." And his voice grew very odd. "But Bruce's father performed an emergency surgery on her, and pulled her from the brink of death. If it hadn't been for him... she would've died, too."

"Good thing he was there," said Bruce. "That was a horrible accident."

"Yeah," said Tom, his voice strange and bleak, staring down into his drink. "Bad accident."

It seemed as though his story was similarly tragic to Bruce's childhood. Lost both of his parents, but in spite of it all, had turned out all right. However, with a past like that, how could anyone turn out halfway normal? Not be overwhelmed with grief, as Bruce had? I tried to scrutinize Tom's expression, and indeed it did carry a heavy tone of dark moodiness. I didn't see how anyone could get over their parents' deaths. I never would be able to. I wonder how Tom was coping with it, even years later. Maybe he put all of his energy into his work, as Bruce did.

The next few seconds happened so quickly, it was nearly a blur. I saw a flash of silver in the sunlight, coming from one of the buildings facing us in the window; and I tensed, my hand gripping Bruce's tightly, as a warning -

Bruce glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly his eyes widened as they locked onto my forehead -

"GET DOWN!" Bruce roared, shoving me to the ground.

The windows exploded into us, and shots rang out through the room.

Dick Grayson

"I told you it was on the other side of the Caspian Sea, Artemis."

"That makes no difference. Maps can lie."

"They have technology to see from space, my friend. It's not a lie."

"I know the ground, Philomena!" snarled Artemis. "Or have you forgotten the Battle of the Seven Heads? I was there, I remember it as though it were yesterday. This map is wrong."

"It's not. Your memory is clouded with blood," Philomena argued.

Dick sat in between the two Amazons on the living room couch, glancing back and forth as he tried to finish his geography homework with little success. Everything had been going fine until he'd asked Philomena to help quiz him on the eastern European countries. Once Artemis had arrived, it'd all gone downhill from there, and the two had been bickering and recounting their battles for the past hour. It was all so fascinating, however, that he didn't even care.

"Books," snapped Artemis, rising to her feet. "A waste of time. We should be training! The danger in this city is ever present. Young Richard, clothe yourself properly and meet me outside. I'm going to show you how a real warrior trains." And with a toss of her long red hair, she stalked out of the room.

Dick glanced up at Philomena; he had to admit that the red cloth she wore over her eyes unnerved him a little. She was blind, that much he knew. But it was more than that... She seemed to know and see better than most people.

"She's serious, right?"

Philomena smiled faintly. "I'm afraid so. You should probably change, Dick. I'll meet you outside." And she rose to her feet, adjusted the cloth over her eyes, and reached down and gently pulled at a small wooden necklace hanging around her neck.

"What's that?" asked Dick.

"It's an owl," said Philomena. "Carved for me by a close friend during one of the wars. Athena's symbol - for luck and wisdom." She smiled wryly. "You have noticed my blindness, I presume.

Dick hesitated as he jumped up off the couch. "Um..."

"A sword swipe across the eyes," explained Philomena. "I have Phillipus, the captain of the guard, to thank for this. But just because my eyes no longer work does not mean I can't see, Richard. I see in other ways. My senses have been compensating. And I believe had I not been wearing this necklace at the time... I may have been killed. Or so I like to believe," she added. "Superstitious, I know."

"But you can still fight?"

"Of course," said Philomena. "If you put on your training gear, I will show you."

Dick had to see this. "On it!" And he bolted up to his room and threw on his under armor and pads.

However, an hour later, he was lying on the ground after being knocked off his feet by another of Artemis's blows.

Dick wiped his brow and let out a long breath of air. "Dude... you're tough," he groaned.

Artemis glared down at him sternly. "War does not wait for you to regain your breath!" she warned, and swung down at him again. He ducked out of the way, somersaulting into a ready position, and had to dodge again to avoid another blow from her staff.

"Artemis, take a little easier on the boy," Philomena urged. "He is young and has had next to no training."

"No," grunted Dick, spinning around to face them. "Don't take it easy on me. I have to learn this."

Philomena and Artemis exchanged glances; and Artemis grinned wickedly.

"Well, in that case," said Philomena; and together she and Artemis launched themselves at Dick.

Dick's eyes widened. "I TAKE IT BACK!" he yelped.

They carried on for another hour before Artemis finally let him rest. He flopped onto the ground with a groan, and she took a seat to sharpen her sword. Curious, Dick sat up and watched her. Philomena leaned against a tree and pulled out a Braille book. Her expression was troubled, and Dick noticed her head tilting offward, as if she were lost in thought. She'd always been more quiet than the other Amazons, and lately even more so.

"So..." Dick paused. "You guys are really Amazons, aren't you? Like... real Amazons?"

Artemis sharpened her sword one more time. "I thought Diana had already told you this."

"Yeah, well... she did. I just... How old are you?"

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Age was of no consequence on Themyscira, young Richard. We lived on the island, untouched by age, for thousands of years. Over three, if you must know."

Dick's jaw dropped. "You're over three thousand years old?"

"I suppose so. I haven't given it much thought." Artemis slid the tool over her sword again. "As I will likely age here... I suppose I should start to keep count. I was twenty-eight when we arrived on Themyscira. I shall now have to count the years once again."

"We can throw you a birthday party!" Dick suggested with a grin, his energy coming back to him in excitement. "Diana said that we're going to have a party for both her and Cass, since they didn't celebrate their birthdays this year yet. What kind of cake do you like?"

Artemis's eyes narrowed. "I will not partake of Duncan Hines's food products again."

Dick laughed, but quickly stopped when he saw her dark glare. "Okay. How about Betty Crocker?"

"A woman?" Artemis thought it over. "Very well. I shall try. But why do you need a cake?"

Dick's jaw dropped again. "You guys have never had a birthday cake?"

"No."

"Dude, that's so wrong." Dick rubbed his sore shoulder and sighed, looking around. "I wish I could at least go to the store. But I can't."

Philomena's attention turned to him. "You are unhappy here?"

"No," muttered Dick, picking at the grass. "I just wanna get out there. I want to find Zucco and make him pay. I don't want to be hiding out here anymore. I want to see stuff, do stuff. It sucks having to be in like a witness protection program. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I just want to be able to go places without worrying someone's out there trying to find me... and kill me."

Artemis snorted. "If that is how you feel, do not become the next member of the 'Bat-clan,' young Richard."

"Bat-clan?" echoed Dick.

"Indeed. Listen well, Richard," Artemis warned him. "Bruce and Diana, and now Cassandra - they go out there each night knowing it could be their last. They have so many enemies it's hard to even put together a list. You weren't here some months ago..." Her jaw tightened.

"Yeah... Diana doesn't really talk about it," said Dick. "What happened?"

"The enemies came here. They overpowered us... and Bruce nearly died as a result. It is why your foster parents continue to train, and train hard each night. We must remain vigilant, Richard. Even I have enemies. And now that I and the others are living here, associated with your foster parents... We must always be on guard. We swore that we would protect this family, and I have no intention of breaking that promise. Diana is the true heir and ruler of the Amazons. And as much as I dislike the fact that she has... bonded herself to a man... I must admit that they do make good partners," conceded Artemis stiffly.

Philomena grinned, and Artemis suddenly glared at her.

"One word, Philomena," bellowed the red-haired warrior. "And you will regret it."

Philomena shrugged. "I didn't say anything." She rose to her feet, stretched, and put her hands on her hips. "Bruce and Diana wear disguises when they're in public," she said suddenly. "Bruce wears a mask, and Diana glasses and a wig. Perhaps, until Zucco is caught, you can do the same, Richard."

Dick's eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

"I'm sure we could find something to disguise you," said Philomena. "And as no one knows that you're here... and as most people don't know that even we are here... If you went out with us, not only would you be protected, but you would be in complete disguise. I don't see why Alkyone wouldn't let us take you out today."

"Really? You would take me into the city?"

Philomena nodded. "I'll ask Alkyone."

Dick bolted back into the house, hoping that the older Amazon wouldn't shoot down the idea. Fortunately, Alkyone was pleased with the idea, and she admitted herself that Dick could not have two better bodyguards than Artemis and Philomena.

"There was a time when she was the fiercest warrior among us," said Alkyone, grinning at Artemis.

Artemis's eyes narrowed. "And still am, old woman."

"But can you navigate the maze that is Gotham City?" said Alkyone with an arched brow.

Artemis nodded. "Of course. We will conquer it."

"Oh, dear," said Alkyone dryly. "All right, then. I'm sure we have some spare wigs lying around, and I'd better get you some glasses, too." She ruffled Dick's hair. "Bruce recently helped to develop special glasses that change your eye color, so you won't have to wear contacts."

"You think Bruce and Diana will be okay if I go out?" Dick asked hopefully.

"As long as you're decently disguised... I don't see why not. I honestly don't know why we didn't think of it before... However, since we don't want anyone to know that you - even in disguise - are connected to Bruce and Diana, I think it would be better if you did go with Philomena and Artemis," said Alkyone. "No one knows who they are - they're just random citizens. No one will think twice. Just stay with these two at all times, and don't talk to anyone. I'll drive you into the city, and I'm sure you can show the ladies around."

Dick was practically leaping for joy. "So where are the wigs?"

It felt so good to be out of the house. As much as he was quickly growing to love Wayne Manor, with all of its secret passages and the kitchen that always smelled of home, Dick hadn't been anywhere else for weeks now. Alkyone, who was taking the day to have grandma-granddaughter time with Cass, dropped them off near the park. Dick scratched at his long, shaggy blonde wig, grimacing at the strange feel of it.

Artemis hit him gently upside his head. "Stop that," she ordered.

Dick shot her a dirty look. "It itches," he hissed. He adjusted his glasses and tugged at his wig again.

"Do I look like I care?" Artemis replied coolly. "If you wish to remain on this outing, don't touch it again."

Dick knew the warrior dragon lady meant business and quickly put his hands down, despite himself. "There's a really good ice cream place just a couple blocks away," he said. "Can we go?"

Artemis glanced down at the small wallet Alkyone had given her and sighed. "Very well."

Bursting with energy, Dick led the way through downtown Gotham, pointing out various landmarks and stores along the way. "And that's Target... the Apple store..."

"I fail to see how technology and fruit are related," Artemis stated sharply, staring up with scrutinizing eyes at the giant four-story store.

Dick grinned and led them down a small side, residential street. "Just down here and to the right," he said, practically skipping down the narrow, quiet street.

The three continued on in silence until they heard a loud man bellowing, and doors slamming. The next second, one of the more run-down apartment doors burst open, and a young boy came bursting out, his face screwed up in rage. He bolted towards the three of them.

"GET BACK IN HERE!" bellowed a surly voice. Up ahead, Dick saw a beer-bellied man with beady eyes and a wifebeater and dirty sweatpants glaring after the boy.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" shouted the boy, still running, nearly reaching the three of them.

The man stumbled down the steps, barreling after the boy. "DON'T MAKE ME WHIP YOU, BOY!"

"TRY IT!" snarled the boy.

And, of course, because it was her, Artemis stepped in. She reached out a hand, grabbed the boy's collar, and picked him up with one hand. The boy gasped, clawed at her hand, and kicked out his legs.

"Put me down!" he snapped, but his eyes were wide with astonishment and fear.

"No," replied Artemis smoothly, and then turned to glare at the man. The man, who was out of breath, stumbled up to the group and was unable to hide his gape at the two women. "You. Man. What has this boy done?" demanded Artemis.

The man, who was a good head shorter than either of the women, managed to close his open mouth. "This isn't any of your business, lady," he sneered. "Gimme the boy!" He reached for him, but Artemis whipped out her leg and kicked him to the ground.

Dick gaped and exchanged looks with the other boy.

"Answer me, you pathetic piece of scum," thundered Artemis, her green eyes gleaming with rage. "What has this boy done?"

"Nothing!" shouted the boy. "I didn't do anything!"

"Artemis," said Philomena quietly, and she put a hand on her friend's arm. When Artemis turned to her, Philomena reached out and touched the boy's face gently. The boy winced, pulled back slightly, but Philomena's touch was light. Dick realized that the boy's face was covered in bruises, and blood was coming out of the corner of his mouth. Philomena gently touched his eyes, his cheeks, and then his arm.

"You're injured, young one," said the blind Amazon quietly. "Has this man done this to you?"

Silence.

"Stay the hell outta this, bitch!" roared the man, struggling to his feet. "That boy's my problem!"

Artemis kicked him down again. "Did you do this?" she snarled. "Did you injure this boy?"

"He deserved it, the whining brat!" the man rasped. "I'm calling the cops! I'll call the cops, you crazy bitch!"

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "And you think that the cops will save you from me?" A slow, dark, terrifying smile spread across her face. When the man paled, Artemis turned her attention back to the boy. "Boy, is this man a relation of yours?"

"Yeah," said the boy dully. "He's my foster dad."

"Perhaps we should call the authorities," suggested Philomena. "We could take you down to the nearest station, young one."

Artemis's eyes narrowed. "Have you forgotten what we were told about the Gotham police?" she hissed.

The boy glared at her. "My foster brother's a cop," he snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about." And he kicked out again. "Put me down!"

"No. Who is your brother?"

The boy shot an evil look to his foster father. "Nick Lawrence," he said. "Officer Nick Lawrence. And you wouldn't call the cops!" he spat down to the man. "You know Nick would kill you!"

"He can't do nothin'! He's my son, too!" snarled the man.

The boy struggled in Artemis's hold. "Lemme go!"

However, the next second, sirens blared. The man paled and tried to get to his feet once again, but Artemis kicked him down and turned to face the approaching police car.

"Now you done it!" shrieked the man, scrambling to get away. "Someone called the cops!"

Philomena whirled on him. "Isn't that what you wanted?" she demanded coolly.

The man started cursing and lugged himself up to his feet, away from Artemis. He tried to make a dash for his apartment, but Artemis reached out and jerked him back. The police car doors opened to reveal none other than Commissioner Gordon and Officer Lawrence. Dick had to admire Gordon's attitude: the older man didn't even do a double take when he saw Artemis; instead, he had a look of weary acceptance.

"Gordon," snapped Artemis, "What are you doing here?"

Lawrence, on the other hand, had trouble keeping his mouth closed.

"We were in the neighborhood when we got a call that two women were attacking people in the street," said Gordon, shooting Artemis a look. "Care to explain?"

"Sir," jumped in Lawrence, glancing from Artemis to the boy to the man lying on the ground, groaning, "that's my dad and my brother. Jason... " Lawrence went pale. "Jason, what happened to you?"

Artemis set the boy down, who immediately burst away from her, sullenly glaring in her direction. Artemis crossed her arms over her chest and faced Gordon with a cool expression. "There was a situation," she said shortly. "I intervened."

Gordon shook his head, but Lawrence was studying his brother's face. Lawrence's face screwed up in fury, and he stormed past Artemis to his father, still lying on the ground.

"I told you!" he snarled. "If you ever put your hand on Jason -"

"Brat deserved it!" repeated his father. "Was copping an attitude!"

"He's ten years old!" spat Lawrence. His jaw clenched. "That's it. He's staying with me, and that's final. Screw the system." He whirled around and stormed back towards the car. "Jason, get in the car. I'll come back for your stuff later. You're staying at my place - for good." He glanced at Gordon. "I'm sorry about this, sir."

"Don't be," said Gordon. "We'll take care of this. Make sure something like this doesn't happen again." Shooting a disgusted look down to Mr. Lawrence, he said, "Mr. Lawrence, I'm going to have to ask you to come down to the station and answer a few questions." He nodded to Artemis. "You can go. But I would recommend," he added, "not doing this again."

Artemis's eyes narrowed. "There was a situation. I dealt with it. If you expect me not to intervene -"

"It's not about you," said Gordon in a low voice. He shot a quick glance down to Dick.

Artemis set her jaw. "Let's go, Philomena."

Dick started to follow Artemis down the street in the opposite direction, away from the cops, but Philomena hesitated.

"Wait," she said softly, and made her way towards Officer Lawrence and Jason. Reaching up onto her neck, she pulled off her owl necklace and placed it into Jason's hands. "For luck and wisdom, young one," she said, closing Jason's hand over the necklace.

Jason stared down at the necklace with some befuddlement. "Uh... thanks..."

"Thank you," Officer Lawrence cut in. He cleared his throat. "Thank you very much."

Philomena nodded gracefully and turned to follow the others down the street.

But as they left, Dick turned and saw Officer Lawrence's face... strangely dreamy as he stared after them. Or rather, one person in particular.

Uh-oh. Dick was only a kid, but even he knew what that look meant. Officer Lawrence had it bad.

And Philomena had no idea.

As the glass shattered around us and Bruce shoved me to the floor, I ducked down, lying flat on the ground. An alarm went off, blaring into the room, and the wind whipped through my hair. After a moment, the shots stopped, and several armed guards came bursting in, guns pointed.

"Sir! Mister Wayne!" they called.

"We're fine!" Bruce shouted, and together we got to our feet and hurried out of the room - but not before I picked up one of the stray bullets. The guards helped the three of us out into a closed-off room.

"What the hell?" breathed Tom, brushing the glass out of his red hair. He had gone pale. "Bruce, what was that?"

Bruce looked at me, his expression grim. "I don't know. But I'll find out." He reached up, brushed glass out of my hair; and his fingers brushed my cheekbones, his eyes roving over my form as if he had never seen me before... and might never see me again. Although I knew his fear was irrational - I was mostly bulletproof as it was, as well as being faster than bullets - he still feared for my safety. I reached up, grasped his hands in mine, and squeezed them tightly.

"I'm fine," I said in a low voice. "I'm fine, Bruce."

Bruce nodded shortly, but his jaw was clenched. "I'm sorry about this, Tom," he said, turning to his old friend. "I don't know who would be after me. But that was a professional sniper. I'll find out who it was... and what's going on."

Tom's eyes were locked on the pair of us, his expression strangely scrutinizing, almost as if he were searching for something... or analyzing. "Don't apologize, Bruce," he said finally. "I'm just glad we're... you know, alive."

"Right," I muttered.

As the guards returned to ask Bruce questions, I carefully looked down at the bullet in my hand and stared at the inscription clearly written in the metal.

Deadshot.

My eyes narrowed.

You picked the wrong targets, Deadshot.

The bullet crunched beneath my fingers.

Thoughts?

So, college kills my time, unfortunately. I am trying to update as much as I can, I promise! And I'm sorry this chapter was not Bruce/Di heavy - but the next one will be. Although I really do love expanding on other characters, the heart of this is a Bruce/Diana story, and I can't get too carried away with the other characters. HOWEVER, there will be major development with side characters, so it's going to be a mix. After all... isn't this eventually a Justice League story? :)

- Serena