NightHawk

Summery: Your just going to have to read it.

Acknowledgements: I told you I was blaming this whole mess on you Marcy, and I'm nothing if not a man of my word. On a side note my universe is a little wacked since I don't get to read many comics so most of what I am relying on comes from right here. If I tread on anyones toes please tell me and I'll be glad to fix it anyway I can.

Rating: PG-13

This is my first fic, so do your best to be nice, feedback would rock

Copyright: March, 2004

Disclaimer: Michael Miller and Nighthawk are mine, all mine and I don't have to share if I don't wanna. Everyone else belongs to DC Comics. Don't sue me cause it'll just be practice.

April 25 2004

Sitting in a large office on the 39th floor of the Wayne Tower, Michael Miller sat tapping his foot nervously. The draft had already started and the young QB hero from gotham state was just minutes from fulfilling his second biggest dream to play for the Gotham Knights, a dream he'd had since he was a young boy. This dream was made all the more real when he met his best friend Richard "Dick" Grayson, ward of the owner Gotham Knights, Billionaire Bruce Wayne. His biggest dream had already came true, flying with the Urban Legend Batman covering for his friend as Robin when he left to go to college at Empire State.

Bruce Wayne sat across the table from him hiding a thin layer of annoyance with his playboy mask. Finally he couldn't take it any longer.

"Michael, would you stop that NOW!" Bruce said not quiet using "the voice", but close enough to make Michael sit up straight.

"But Bruce you know the Meteors need a QB too, how do you know they aren't going to draft me?" Miller asked.

"Because we already made it clear that you only want to play for us." Wayne answered getting flustered answering the question for the hundredth time in the last 48 hours

Over the TV feed Coach Gibbs proudly walked up to the podium and announced that local hero Michael Miller had been drafted number 5 overall for the Knights after trading Central City for the draft choice.

Michael jumped to his feet with tears in his eyes, "Bruce, I don't know how to thank you. This has always been my dream. I promise I will make sure you never regret this."

"I know I won't Mike, and I want you to know that I'm sure your father would be very proud of you today son." Bruce said with a rare smile of true approval.

Millers father Robert, had played for Gotham for four seasons when Mike was a boy. A good enough blocking Tight End he hoped he would be able to finish out his career there until the deranged killer Two-Face killed him merely for wearing the number 22.

Just then an estatic Dick Grayson busted into the Knights war room, or as the coaching staff in Gotham had come to call it their bat cave, happy to see one of his best friends finally fulfill a life long dream.

"Mike it gets better!" shouted Grayson as soon as he got past the coaches with a polite nod from Bruce, "I just got off the phone with the president of the league and hes willing to let you wear this, holding up a jersey with the name Miller emblazoned on the back and the number 22 on it.

"But I'm a quarter back," Michael said trying to hold back the tears of joy "As much as I want to they would never let me take a number that high"

Bruce smiled again with a slight twinkle in his eyes and said, "I pulled a couple strings, that is, if you want it. You can always stick to the number four if you would prefer."

"Oh no I mean since you went through all this trouble and everything I guess that it's the least I could do is wear it," Michael said not knowing weather to laugh, or cry, or both. "You know boss," smiling at Bruce "This just might be a better present than the Shelby, but I'm not giving that back either."

"Come on guys lets get down there and meet the natives," said Coach Bowder "They won't leave till they see our new star in that uniform" **************************************************************************** *****

As the group walked out the elevator doors they were swarmed by fans and members of the press corps. Security quickly got the mob in order by the time Michael, Bruce and Dick made it up to the podium. Michael pushed the dark brown hair out of his eyes and stood there as they, the crowd, took in the 6ft tall 210lb all American rookie from right across town. His grey eyes beamed as he noticed all the pretty girls and bright lights. He thought to himself this is where I belong. Bruce took the lead by making a short statement before Michael had to talk. He wondered to himself if public speaking was really that hard for Bruce or was it just part of his act. Suddenly Bruce walked away patting Mike on the shoulder and mumbled something along the lines of there all yours son.

"Ummm, I would like to thank you all for coming down here." Michael said a little surprised by all the attention. "I just want to do the best I can for this team and pray that's enough"

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet" said the tall dark haired reporter from Metropolis "I see your wearing the number 22 instead of your regular 4, are you planning on changing positions?"

"No, as kind of a gift Mr. Wayne got special permission from the president so that I could wear my dads old number"

As the cheers died down Michael answered a few more questions then Bruce wrapped up the speech. Michael, Dick and Bruce headed out to the private parking garage where Michael's new baby sat ready for a good shake down.

The brand new Shelby Series 2 roadster was one of the most powerful cars ever to roll off an assembly line and when you take into account the modifications that had been added to it already done by Harold, Batmans trusted mute mechanic, the only thing that could keep up with it was the Batmobile itself. Dick made sure to go through and point out all the new gadgets from the turbo and NOs boosts to the wireless computer behind the CD player.

"Just remember Michael," Bruce said in the harsh whisper of the Bat. "Just because this car can do it doesn't mean you should, you have a lot to loose."

"I remember this one, isn't it a lot like the with your gifts you have greater responsibility speech?" Michael asked just wanting to get out on the highway and open the throttle full bore.

Then he said " Don't do anything stupid, I can and will fire you, don't ever forget that." Before he realized Lucious Fox was coming to talk to him, he smiled that fake smile and added " You go have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do"

When Bruce walked away with Lucious, Michael smiled devilishly at his new ride. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen Dick." He said still grinning like an idiot. " Now you know he would freak if he knew this, but I got you a little present too," said the former boy wonder flashing his perfect smile "look in the trunk under the spare tire"

Michael did as he was told and found a suit resembling Nightwings with the exception of the blue it was missing. "I figured you might wanna fly again before the season starts and you have to hang up one set of tights for another." Dick joked.

"Dude your the best," Michael said grasping his best friends hand. Michael had trained alongside Dick since Jr. High, not really to be a crime fighter but to train. The acrobatics and strength training Bruce put Michael through all troughs years helped to condition him into the lean muscular man he became. Though he had been on very few missions he always found his way down into the cave to spar along side Gothams greatest heroes.

Michael jumped into the driver seat of the Shelby minding not to peel out the 900 horsepower beast until he cleared the parking lot. Then with a long burnout he said goodbye to Gotham for a weekend he would never forget. **************************************************************************** *****