Nightwing: Out of Time 3 – The Hunt for Black Robin
Chapter 4
By Christopher W. Blaine
e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: Nightwing™ and all other characters and situations portrayed in this story are ©2002 by DC Comics Inc., an AOL/Time-Warner Company, and are used without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. No profit is made from this writing. This original story is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express consent of the author.
"I don't give a rat's behind what sort of United Nations status you have," the burly police detective said, chomping on the unlit cigar in his mouth. "You can shake your butt somewhere else, Miss Equal Rights, 'cause I don't have to share no damn information on no damn investigation!"
Wonder Woman put her hands on her hips, summoning all of her strength. She spoke to the policeman slowly and with an even tone. "Arrangements were made prior to our arrival through Interpol for me to have a look at your case file."
A crowd of several other officers and detectives were crowding around as Nightwing and Wonder Woman tried to discuss the situation rationally. In a way, Nightwing, who was a police officer in his other identity, could understand how the detective felt. Police officers tended to personalize crimes; they saw the victims as their own causes. They became offended when someone else came in even just to look because it insinuated that they couldn't do their job.
This officer's attitude, though, was simply too much. He was from an entirely different generation, no doubt from a time when there were no female police officers in Midway City. "First that damned Hawkman and his Hawk-bitch…urgh!"
Wonder Woman grabbed the detective and hoisted him up by his neck, applying just enough pressure to hold him in place. "First of all, I am a delegate of the United Nations, which gives me full diplomatic immunity. If I want to toss you around the office, there is nothing you can do about it. Second, I am a fully deputized federal agent which gives me the authority to review cases that may or may not have JLA significance." She then pulled him closer. "Third, I am a woman, not a bitch, not an ass-shaker, and certainly not a doormat. I am a righteous creation, a bringer of life through my womb, a nurturer, a lover and a confidant. I am submissive when I want and," she tightened her grip, "can become very aggressive when threatened. The last thing your God created was woman. Therefore, logic assumes that we are His masterpiece. Who are you to look down upon us?"
Several of the female officers began chuckling and even some of the male ones thought the spectacle was humorous. Wonder Woman released the man and minutes later they were walking out of the police department after a round of applause.
Nightwing flipped through the copies of the detective's notes. "I think I see where Andrea got her ideals from."
Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow. "She stood up for herself, is there something wrong with that?"
He shook his head. "Nope; that jerk had it coming. I guess…it's just funny that I wanted to be like Superman and it looks like my daughter wanted to be more like you."
"Kal-El is worthy of such praise, but what about Bruce? Didn't you want to be like him?"
He closed the file and the two walked along the sidewalk. There were very few stares as Midway City had long ago become accustomed to the idea of super-heroes. Every once in awhile, a construction worker would whistle (though neither Nightwing or Wonder Woman could figure out which one of them it was meant for) or someone would want an autograph. "No son wants to be like his father; they all say I'm going to be different. In the end, we wind up just like them. I live alone, can't maintain a healthy relationship, I never sleep, and I hang out with Justice League members…"
"Certainly it is a bad thing, I can see," she said sarcastically. "The Titans are so much a better class of people. Donna has already told me about the male-domination contests for her affections." She stopped to sign a piece of paper offered by a little girl and her blushing older brother. "I heard you used to write poetry. How did it go?"
Raven locks surround an angelic face.
My heart is no longer mine.
Ten times I look into your eyes.
A hundred times I fall in love.
Nightwing blushed visibly. "We were very young."
Wonder Woman made no more mention about it and the two hurried to the middle of the park where the Titans jet was sitting with two mounted police officers shaking their heads. "You burn up the grass and it'll be your ass, hero!" one of them threatened.
Nightwing nodded and started the engines, gently lifting up into the air. Wonder Woman read from the notes. "It says that a woman and young girl matching the description of Rebecca and Andrea Lawson were sighted at the bus station. Three buses left at that time. One was for Los Angeles…"
Nightwing shook his head. "Nope. She's already lived in San Francisco and wouldn't be dumb enough to walk back into dangerous territory. No doubt that Al Ghul has agents there looking for her." He put the jet on autopilot, a slow exit from Midway City and got up to look over her shoulder. He pointed at another destination. "Forget Houston as well; Black Robin had a definite northern accent."
"That leaves Cincinnati. I don't think I've ever been there," she said, tapping a fingernail against her bottom lip. "No known super-heroes either."
"Where should we start?"
"The local housing authority, I'd say."
"Then let's hurry," she said, taking the controls on her side of the cockpit. "Fasten safety belts," she said a moment after putting some thrust to the engines. Nightwing yelped and tumbled back into passenger compartment.
"He hasn't checked in with me," Barbara relayed to Timothy Drake. The young hero, the third person to assume the mantle of Robin, sighed heavily. "Something wrong?" she asked.
"It's the boss," he said, referring to the Batman. "He's been on me to pump Wonder Girl of all people for information on where Nightwing is at. Like she would know!"
Barbara wanted to tell him what she knew, but if the Batman hadn't, then it wasn't her place to let the cat out of the bag. "I can't help you, sport," she said. He responded cheerfully enough given the situation and then signed off.
Barbara wheeled over to a large map of the United States. A tracking device in Nightwing's mask said he was in Cincinnati. Barbara had been giving Batman excuses for the better part of a day, covering for her friend as he had asked. She had accessed the Justice League Watchtower logs and had discovered that Wonder Woman had missed her tour at monitor duty. "Personal reasons" was what the excuse had said.
The former Batgirl merely shook her head. The first commandment of Gotham was "Thou shall not have any secrets from the Bat". She was breaking that commandment and there would be hell to pay. She wondered why she was even doing it. A small voice in her mind said to contact Batman, to tell him exactly what Nightwing was up to.
An evil smile crossed her lips as she imagined her former boyfriend being scolded by the Batman in front of Wonder Woman. The she realized that she was being petty and though she was human, she did not have the time or luxury of such emotions. A little girl's future was being decided by Nightwing's actions; he was trying to save her from a life and death she didn't deserve and Barbara Gordon's broken heart would have to wait.
Still, she was lonely as she was sure Nightwing was as well; it was just that it seemed as if it was easier for him to move on. It wasn't fair and again she felt like crying at the futility. "How can I live in a world where men can change the course of rivers with their hands and not be able to walk?"
If she could walk again, then what? Did her legs and her mobility really define who she was? She was so much more than the sum of her actions. She was not just the former Batgirl; she had been a congresswoman, a librarian, a co-ed and a little girl once.
She smacked a palm on the chair's armrest. "Damn it, Babs, get your head out of your ass!" Ever since Nightwing had brought her the information regarding Black Robin she had been in this funk. At first, she thought it had all been about their break-up. It had been too amicable, just like any other time. Because they didn't throw things at each other, it seemed as if there was no closure and that it never really ended.
Then came the realization that Dick Grayson could have a child out there and if that were true, then Barbara Gordon would never, ever be the most important think in his life again. She was about to be replaced through no fault of her own by a little girl with blond hair and pretty blue eyes.
"Blue eyes…pretty…" she murmured. She immediately rolled over to her laptop and moved the mouse over an icon and double-clicked. A copy of the DNA profile that Superman and Nightwing obtained popped up. She put her glasses on and started reading through the report, paying especially close attention to the handwritten notes at the bottom.
Without removing her eyes from the screen she reached over for a special cell phone that was linked directly to the JLA Watchtower. In her identity of Oracle, she was a reserve member of the Justice League, which gave her access to the world's largest database on metahumans.
The other end picked up. "Watchtower, Plastic Man here. Please tell me you're an out of work stripper looking for a job."
"This is Oracle."
"Hey, sweetie! Wanna come up and keep me warm? It's so cold on the moon," was the reply. Plastic Man was the professional flirt of the team. Originally recruited with Oracle and the Huntress by Batman, he had survived several membership shifts because, despite his village idiot attitude, he was a competent hero.
"I need you to look something up for me; it should be in the old case files that I haven't had a chance to incorporate into the database…"
Nightwing slowly crawled into the window of the hotel that had been rented under the name of Richard and Diana Prince, his head hurting from hours of rooting through the files of the local public assistance office. Wonder Woman poked her head around the corner and satisfied that it was him, went back to her work on the computer.
"I take it back," he said as he dropped onto the couch that had been his bed for the past three days.
"Take what back?" she asked.
"Next time, you can carry me; I'm dead. I can't believe the number of people who apply for benefits." He closed his eyes and then snapped them open. He was not going to go to sleep again without showering. "Well, I have to head back to the 'Haven in order to work my shift."
"Ah, yes, the importance of the secret identity," Wonder Woman said.
"I have my reasons," he responded as he dragged himself away from the couch. "Will you be able to keep up the vigil for me?"
"Of course," she said without further comment. Nightwing approached slowly to see exactly what she was doing. "Please go shower, Richard," she said, wrinkling her nose.
He shuffled away and she turned back to her journal.
…and I continue to be impressed by his willpower to continue on. It is not an obsession, but more like a mission. He realizes that Andrea's life is not in immediate danger and he seems to have finally come to terms with his past. Perhaps I was a little too tough on him for his past sexual escapades, but he needed it. If he can't remember if he slept with a woman, then he shouldn't have to begin with.
On the plus side, I am finally seeing what it is Donna finds so fascinating with him. I knew no little boys growing up, but Richard recollects about his time with his parents in the circus with such joy that I can almost imagine him being a bubbly child so full of life. He often puts on a face, like Bruce, but when he lets his guard down I think I'm actually seeing more of John Grayson. He is intelligent, charming and quite handsome, but he also is in touch with his emotional side.
I always assumed that since we were on the same team, Batman and I would become good friends. Both of us have that aristocratic background, but he is too much of an elitist. Though he fights for the common man, Batman has nothing in common with him. Richard, on the other hand, was not born into money, but instead worked with his family until his parents were killed. It is a difference that I find fascinating.
If I were a young girl again (Merciful Minerva that was so long ago!), I'd say I was starting to develop a crush on him. Hera knows it's been a long time since I've been able to enjoy myself in the company of a man. I suppose this is more about just working together than anything else. I'm not used to these "team-ups".
Richard will be leaving in a few hours and then it will be time to do things my way. While I'm sure that going through files in the dark is fun, I prefer the more direct approach. I think that this may be a situation where my diplomatic credentials may be of some use…