Saturday
Dick grumbled to himself as he stared at the clock beside the bed. 6:34 A.M. Since he'd gone to bed at an unusually early hour, naturally he had awakened at an unusually early hour. He had always believed in the philosophy of never turning down an opportunity to grab some extra sleep, but that was only because he never got any. He finally threw off the covers and got up. Might as well do something productive as long as he was awake.
At such an early hour on a Saturday morning, the hotel's gym was practically deserted. Dick spent about an hour going through his usual weight routine followed by a nice, long jog on the bike path near the lake. He then went back to his room, took a quick shower, and dressed in some jeans and a button-down shirt. He checked his watch: 9:05. Finally! Dick dialed Gary Thompson's home number.
"Thompson residence. May I help you?" intoned the cultured voice.
'Alfred does that sort of thing much better,' Dick snickered to himself. "Yes, my name is Richard Grayson. Is Mr. Thompson available?"
"Just a moment, sir, I will find out."
Dick wasn't surprised when, after only a minute or so, Thompson came on the line.
"Grayson? Yes, this is Gary Thompson," he said, obviously trying to remain calm. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, Mr. Thompson, I was wondering if you would be free to meet with me this morning? I believe I may have some items that belong to you."
"Oh my G... Oh, um, of course I can meet with you. Um, say, have you had breakfast yet?" Thompson babbled. "My...wife isn't home this weekend, and the cook always makes too much ..."
"Breakfast would be fine. I can be there in about thirty minutes if that's convenient."
"Yes! I mean...yes, that would be, uh, fine. I'll see you then."
Dick smiled at the combined relief and concern he heard in Thompson's voice. Picking up the leather portfolio containing the appropriate envelope and video tape, he set out on the motorcycle once again.
Thompson lived in one of the grand old homes on the north side of the city. While not precisely a mansion, it was still a very large, very impressive building. Dick identified himself at the gated entrance, and upon arriving at the front entrance, was greeted by both the butler and Thompson himself.
Thompson shook Dick's hand and ushered him into the family dining room where a fairly sumptuous buffet was spread.
"You weren't kidding about your cook, were you Mr. Thompson!" Dick said in some astonishment. While Alfred believed in feeding his charges "properly," he would never have prepared this much food for just two people.
"This is how my wife's family always took breakfast on Saturday mornings," he replied absently. "I've never been able to convince Henrie that all I want is just bacon and eggs. When my wife's not here, I usually try to invite the servants or business friends or somebody to help me eat all this."
Dick and Thompson sat at the table, filled their plates, and began to eat. Dick noticed that Thompson didn't seem to have much appetite, so he decided to make his report in hopes of cheering Thompson up.
"As I said on the phone, I have some items I believe belong to you." Dick opened his portfolio, pulled out the envelope and video tape, and handed them to Thompson, who looked at him in wonder. "I can't guarantee that these are the only copies, but I'm fairly certain that Ms. Hill didn't take the trouble to make duplicates."
"H..how did you get these?"
"I'd rather not say. Also, the money that you embezzled has been put back into Palmer Electronics' main account." He grinned. "I'd rather not say how that was done either."
"I...don't know what to say. How can I thank you?"
"First off, I expect you to make a full confession to your partners. You're not going to be able to hide this -- your accountants are going to be pretty confused when they find out $4,000,000 has just appeared in the bank. Secondly, I would ask that you not pursue charges of extortion against Jennifer Hill. Third," Dick paused and then continued more hesitantly, "don't do stupid stuff like this anymore. Let's face it -- if you'd kept your pants zipped in the first place, this whole situation would never have developed!"
Thompson looked indignant for a moment, but his expression swiftly changed to remorse. "Maybe you're right. I wanted 'excitement' didn't I, and look what I got." He continued in a quiet voice, "I had already planned to tell the others what was going on -- there's a board meeting scheduled for Wednesday to discuss our financial 'difficulties.' You've made my job a little easier by recovering the money, but I'll still inform them of my role in the whole thing. I'll let them decide what to do with me."
"And Jennifer Hill?"
"I can't really charge her without revealing everything that's happened. I don't want to do that. I just hope I never see her again," he said bitterly.
"That's all I have then," Dick said cheerfully. The two men finished eating in silence.
Thompson escorted Dick outside and shook his hand once more. "Grayson, it's been very interesting meeting you. Thanks for all you've done."
Dick mounted the motorcycle and held the helmet in his hands. "I didn't really do all that much. I hope everything works out okay for you, sir."
"At least the pressure's gone. And with the money back in place, the company will survive. That's more than I had even hoped for before yesterday."
Dick put his helmet on, "Good-bye, Mr. Thompson."
"Good-bye, Grayson. You take care."
Dick waved as he rode out of the impressive entrance and back out on the street.
****
Once back at the hotel, Dick made one final call to Babs before he finished packing his things. "Hey, good-lookin'!"
Barbara Gordon's slightly sleepy face appeared on the screen. "Hi!" she yawned.
"Oooh. Late night?"
"Yeah. After I got done with the Bat-crew, J'onn called me up and needed some information on ancient Mayan customs. Woo, what fun!" she said sarcastically.
"Now, now. At least he called you up -- they weren't even doing that for a while there."
"Yeah, I know. It still ticks me off."
"Tell me about it. The next Titans meeting after...it...happened, Jesse kept glaring at me as if she expected me to start attacking them or something."
"Are you sure she was glaring and not leering?" Babs asked teasingly.
"Yes, I'm sure," he replied, a reluctant smile tugging at his mouth. "Anyway, I'm about to close up shop here. I should be back in Gotham around 3:00. Do you think you'll be able to pick me up at the airport, or should I just plan on calling a cab?"
"My afternoon's clear as far as I know. Just give me a call when you get in."
"I will. See you in a while, sweetheart."
"Just be careful flying your 'classic' plane, handsome. I want you home in one piece."
"Yes, ma'am! 'Bye."
"'Bye."
Dick double-checked the room, gathered his bags, and went down to the lobby to check out. He was pleased to see that the friendly Andrew was the concierge on duty.
"Andrew! I'm glad I caught you before I left!"
"Yes, Mr. Grayson?"
"I wanted to thank you again for finding me such an excellent motorcycle. It's parked down in the garage, and here's the key. Will you be able to handle returning it for me?"
"Of course, sir. Do you need a cab?"
"Yes, please." Dick waited as Andrew hailed a waiting cab and loaded Dick's bags into the car. When he was done, he turned back to Dick.
"Do you need anything else, sir?"
"No, that should do it." He held out some folded bills to Andrew, who took them with thanks. The outer bill was a $10, but as Dick got into the car, he heard Andrew's shout as he found the $100 bill Dick had tucked inside. Dick laughed and waved as they drove off.
"Where to?" the cab driver grunted.
"Meigs Field. But first, I need you to go to Malnati's Pizzeria over on Wells."
"Sure thing."
Dick pulled out his cell phone and dialled the number he had previously memorized.
"Yes, I'd like to order two uncooked medium pizzas to go, please? One with everything but anchovies, the other just pepperoni. Oh, and do you have some kind of insulated bag or something? I'm taking these back to Gotham City on a plane. Thanks." He hung up.
Soon, Dick was on his way to Meigs Field with two authentic Chicago pizzas in tow. He filed his flight plan, arranged for fuel for his plane, and started his pre-flight inspection. It took some manuevering to get the pizzas to fit in the limited amount of space he had available on the plane, but Dick managed.
By 12:30, Dick was taxiing off the runway and bidding farewell to the city of Chicago. Because of a storm system coming down from Canada, he had to make a slight southerly detour going back to Gotham. In spite of that, he made good time and managed to touch down at the Municipal Airport at 2:45.
When he reached the hangar, Dick was surprised to see Barbara already there waiting for him.
"Hi!" He bent down and gave her a passionate kiss. "I did say 3:00, didn't I?"
"Yeah, I decided to track you when I saw there was bad weather between here and Chicago. When I saw you'd avoided trouble (for once), I came on over."
"An intelligent woman is a double-edged sword, you know that, Terry?" Dick said as the older pilot came forward to greet him.
"Hey, I didn't get to be this old by bein' stupid. You fight your own battles, Grayson," Terry replied, veering off to examine the Mustang.
"But you like swords, Dick," Barbara said under her breath with a mischievous smile.
Dick immediately blushed. Then he laughed and unloaded his gear from the old plane. Terry waved him off from starting any kind of post-flight inspection.
"Dick, I can take care of her from here. You go on home with your girl."
"Thanks, Terry!" Dick walked over to Barbara, carrying his suitbag and carryall in one hand and balancing the bag containing the pizzas in the other. He then placed the pizza bag on her lap. "I brought you something, Babs: Two authentic, deep-dish Chicago pizzas!"
She stared up at him as if he'd gone crazy. "You brought pizzas from Chicago?!?"
"Sure! Whenever it was his turn to bring food, Wally (who knows where the best restaurants are anywhere) would always bring pizza from this place in Chicago. So I brought some home with me. You haven't had lunch yet, have you?" He smiled in satisfaction as she confirmed that she hadn't eaten. "Great! We'll heat up the pizzas and watch 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail.'"
"'Princess Bride.'"
"Grail."
"'Princess Bride.' I'm not sitting around the rest of the evening listening to Grail quotes." She activated the chair lift on her Hummer and got on while Dick stuffed his bags in the back seat.
"You'd rather hear me tell Bruce, 'Have fun stormin' the castle?'" He sat on the passenger side and shut the door.
"... You wouldn't." She started the engine, and they waved at Terry as they drove off.
"You wanna bet?"
"Uh, no." If Dick was willing to bet, he was willing to say it -- he hated to lose.
"So we're watching Grail?"
"I still think I'd prefer Princess Bride quotes to Grail quotes."
"All right," he conceded. He waited until they were at a stop light, and then he leaned over to plant a hard kiss on her mouth. "I like the sword fights in that one better, anyhow." He burst out laughing at her stunned expression.