Title: One And Only: X

Author: D C Luder

Summary: Set four years after the conclusion of Life Is Good. The Family moves on and… apart?

Rating: PG 13 for language

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: It is highly advisable that you read Time Will Tell and Life Is Good or you may be a tad bit lost. I am writing this due to the numerous requests for a sequel. That and I am absolutely obsessed with the concept of the Bat and Cat living happily ever after.

A/N 2: Thanks everyone for reading, and an even bigger thanks to Chris for keeping me focused and entertained.

A/N 3: The events in Dick's POV are reflect on those found in David Simon's "Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets"

V

So stupid.

I was standing in front of a full length mirror in my bedroom, obsessing over whether or not to wear a collared shirt with a sweater or whether to go with a plain old long-sleeved tee. All the while worried if I had put on enough or perhaps too much cologne.

What the hell was my problem? I was Robin. I had faced off with each and every Rogue in Gotham, not to mention the garden-variety killers and criminals. I had survived the Clench. Hell, I could hack into the CIA databases if I wanted to.

And there I was freaking out over how I looked all for one very stupid reason.

Cass was coming over.

I suppose that in itself was not the sole reason. Originally, my plan was to have pizza, maybe watch a movie or hit up the XBox and possibly get to talking about things we seriously needed to stop avoiding. All in the solitude of my house, free of parental units. That was until my dad and Dana decided to stay home because of a winter weather advisory.

"Tim, what's this, 'C at 7'?"

I smoothed out the long sleeved shirt I had put on for the third time and looked up, "What?"

Dad had been standing in my doorway and had glanced over at a calendar I had above my desk. A week after New Year's I had finally summed up the courage to ask her over. I had denoted our non-date so that I wouldn't have an excuse to forget it. Had he looked at the following day, he could have asked about "Mattie's B. Day Party 1-4."

"Uh, nothing," I finally replied, "Just a friend coming over."

"Oh, that's um… fine. Listen, dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes…"

I cleared my throat, "Actually, we were going to order a pizza and just hang out in here."

A look came over his face that could only be categorized as being forlorn. I had never really had a strong relationship with my father, mostly because I had been forced to lie to him for so many years on just about everything in my life. And things had only worsened when I had finally told him the truth about my double life two years ago, offering him peace by promising never to keep anything from him again.

Unfortunately, I had been sneaking around his back, looking for a place of my own to live. I knew he wanted to keep tabs on me while I was still in college, but with us butting antlers on what I was supposed to do with my life, I figured distance would be a safe way to break any bad news to him in the future.

"Oh, well, whatever… If you change your mind, it's lamb chops," he said as he turned and headed down the hall.

I paused then called out, "Thanks."

A glance at my watch told me it was quarter of seven. I did a few breathing exercises to calm myself and to bide my time until Cass showed up. Everything was going to be fine. It was dinner, some down time and maybe a nice quiet chat…

The second my ears detected the doorbell, I sprang from my bed, dashed down the hall nearly tripping over Trixie, Dana's French Bulldog, and slid to a stop in front of the door. I allowed myself a deep breath before I opened it. The snow was actually coming down in significant amounts and the wind was doing its best to drop the temperature to sub-zero numbers. Had I been looking, I would have realized that Barbara had let Cass drive the Hummer up, but I wasn't looking at the driveway.

"Can I come in?" she asked, shivering in a down waist length coat.

"Uh yeah," I managed before stepping to the side and letting her in. I quickly shut the door as another gust breezed by. Unsure as what else to say I asked, "Was the drive out bad?"

Cass shook her head, sending off droplets of melting snow. When she took her coat off she stood and stared at me for a moment before asking what to do with it. I opened up the coat closet and took it from her. Real suave, Casanova, I thought to myself as I shut the closet door.

"Okay, let's give you the dime tour," I smirked and lead the way into the den. Cass had never been to my house, in fact very few people had simply because I was rarely there to do anything other than sleep or eat. The rear of the den opened up into a small lounge area and beyond that was the kitchen. In the adjacent rear corner was a broad hall that lead towards the stairs and a few first floor rooms, including mine.

Just as I began to lead the way towards my room, I heard a buzzer go off in the kitchen and a soft feminine voice, "Oh, crap."

We both looked over in time to see Dana, garbed in a beige apron and oven mitts, nearly drop a glass pan of what must have been the remnants of the chops Dad had mentioned. I had been victim to a number of Cook Dana's meals, and as a result I cherished every single scrap of food that Alfred made for me.

"I thought we were having pizza?"

"We are. I wouldn't put you through that…"

Cass threw me a glare, "Why is she cooking then?"

I tried to usher her down the hallway but she was in place for the moment, "Well they're having whatever that is…"

I felt her hand on my arm, "Hey, I don't see you cooking." She had me there. "Why can't we eat together?"

Oh boy.

Thirteen minutes later, my father asked, "Tim, can you pass the salad?"

The four-course meal that Dana had started at a little before six had ended with a bowl of lettuce and sliced green peppers, a plate of scorched baked potatoes and three somewhat salvageable chops. I handed him the bowl of greens and went back to work on blending sour cream with my poor potato.

Dana put down her wine glass and said, "Well this is nice, eating together…" a silence was our reply. She continued, "So Cassandra, do you go to GSU?"

I glanced over as Cass thought before replying, "Not at the moment. I traveled abroad this summer, though, worked with a number of professionals for some more… advanced training."

My father mumbled, "Training… Oh, that…"

"How interesting," Dana smiled and saved the moment while she repositioned the napkin on her lap, "And now that you're back in Gotham, what are your plans?"

This was insane. What was Cass going to say, bust up some bad guys? I held my breath as she answered, "Well, I have done some online courses and I hope to work on a business degree… I would like to someday manage a fitness or martial arts center of some sort."

My father nodded, "There you go. A master plan. You ought to help Tim figure life out so he can figure something out."

"Dad," I said, my voice freakishly reminding me of when I was thirteen.

"Sorry, but it's true," he elaborated before getting to work on his salad, "Playing on your computer and switching majors doesn't really count as a master plan."

Cass snickered quietly and shrugged when our eyes met. Before I could defend my pointless life, the phone rang. After no one made a move for it, I excused myself and answered it. The second I picked up the portable from the kitchen, I walked back towards the dining room and paused in the entranceway. It wasn't until I heard, "Uh, hello?" did I realize I had yet to answer.

"Drake residence."

"Tim, it's Selina. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

I did my best to pay attention to the happenings in the dining room as I replied, "No, just eating dinner."

"Oh, sorry. I was just making sure you were still planning on coming up tomorrow afternoon."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great. Well, I'll let you go. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

In a less than graceful move, I dashed back, hung up the phone and returned to my seat just in time to hear the beginning of a conversation I had dreaded. My father had instigated it, "So, you're a Cain. Any relation to the Cains in Boston?"

She replied, "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

"Oh, that's a pity. When we summered in Martha's Vineyard last year we met them. Really nice people, own some line of pharmaceuticals," Dana commented before asking, "So what do your parents do?"

Could this possibly get ay more uncomfortable?

Cass handled it flawlessly, though, saying how she had been raised by her father and they had parted ways when she was younger. She had even gone as far as describing David Cain as being an independent contractor… I guess that worked on some level. Assassin for hire could be counted as that.

Just like my after school job in high school had been upper level youth safety patrol.

The talk quickly turned to outside interests and Dana was surprised how much Cassandra liked working with children. As they went on about how adorable Mattie was, I sat stoically in disbelief that things were running smoothly, wondering when it would all go up in flame. Like the lamb chops that Cass had complimented Dana on at least twice.

V

"Has it been a half hour yet?" I asked, doing my best not to fidget. Mom didn't like it when I did but I couldn't help it sometimes, I really couldn't.

"Yep, get a towel from the bathroom," she said as she slipped on Dad's housecoat. I always thought it was funny, how she would wear Dad's stuff. I tried on one of his shirts once and it came to my toes.

I had been sitting on Mom and Dad's bed in my bathing suit and a pair of flip flops waiting thirty minutes to pass after dinner so I could go downstairs to swim with Dad. I hopped off the bed, skipped down the hall and picked out a yellow and blue towel that had a picture of Sponge Bob on it. It was my favorite one.

By the time I came back out in the hall, Mom had come out of her room and had headed towards the stairs. I caught up with her after a few bounds and then latched on to her hand as we made our way down. The pool was in the back of the house and had huge windows, so once we got on the ground floor we turned left and headed that way.

Mom pushed open the double doors of the poolroom and I snuck in before her. When I looked into the pool, I didn't see Dad at first and wondered if he had already gotten out. Then I saw him, under the water in the deep end. I walked over closer and saw that he was swimming upside down almost on the bottom of the pool. As I sat on the edge I waved down to him and giggled when he waved back.

Dad finally came up for air and swam right up next to me. As he removed his goggles he looked over at Mom, "Not coming in?"

I looked over at her and then back at Dad before I shrugged. She walked over next to me and sat down as well, letting her legs hang into the water, "No, I figured I would play spectator this round. Besides I have some things to take care of for tomorrow."

I bounced a bit, "Birthday things?"

"Maybe," she smiled.

"Yeah!" I laughed. I couldn't wait for my birthday party. Everyone from school was coming to it and there was going to be an ice cream cake and games and all sorts of things. And Dad promised to be there for the whole time.

"Well, you ready?" he asked as he pushed off of the wall and treaded water in the middle of the pool.

I nodded and stood before handing my towel to Mom. From there, I walked as quickly as I could without running because you couldn't do that around the pool. I wanted to jump in and do a cannonball like Tim taught me over the summer but I knew Dad didn't like me jumping in. Instead, I walked around to the steps and hopped down each one until I was all the way in the water.

The water was actually kind of warm and I splashed a bit before waving at Mom. She smiled and moved her legs back in forth in the water. When I looked over to where Dad had been, I noticed he was gone. Before I could look under the water, I felt him swim by and giggled when his fingers touched my ankle.

"Dad," I smiled as he surfaced next to me, "That tickled."

"Oh, did it?"

I nodded before diving under the water, aiming my hands at his feet. In the shallow end he was practically sitting on the floor where I had to stand on my toes to keep my head above the water. I managed to touch one leg before he swam off towards deeper water. The deepest I had ever been was eight feet and that had been with Dad right next to me. My friends at school were just starting to learn to swim in lessons but I had been at it since I was three and a half.

I swam out to follow him, using the crawl stroke. I liked the butterfly one better but it wasn't as fast. He stopped and treaded at just about the six-foot mark and when I caught up I did the same.

Mom stood up and set my towel on a nearby lounge chair, "Well, I'll let you two chlorinate. You're in charge of Dad, Mattie."

I laughed and said, "Okay Mom."

After she had left the poolroom I moved back away from Dad and did a quick flip in the water. When I was upside down, I noticed a few reflections on the bottom of the pool. Coins. Whenever Dad was in the pool, he usually swam a lot of laps if I wasn't going to join him. I also knew he threw coins into the water and would go under and collect them all before coming back up for air.

When I came back up, I fixed my hair with one hand and treaded with the other. After a deep breath, I asked, "How many coins are down there?"

"Fourteen," he said quietly, but his voice still echoed softly in the big room, "Why?"

"I don't know. Just wondering, I guess. Can we do a submarine?" After he nodded, I swam closer to him and crawled up onto his shoulders. He then dipped below the water so that he was completely under and only my lower half was. I was glad that he made two full loops around the pool, even going all the way to the really deep part that was twelve feet.

When I slipped off of his shoulders, he turned onto his back and came up for a breath, just as I dove down in the water, aiming for a quarter.

He dove down as well, no doubt worried that I wouldn't be able to get it. I looked up at him just before I latched onto the coin and stuck my tongue out with a grin on my face. Dad looked at me, completely surprised, sort of like when I did handstands while he was talking on the phone.

We both reached the surface at the same time and I handed him the coin, "That's one."

Together, we retrieved the remaining coins and put them in a pile on the edge of the pool. Once they all had been found, Dad got out of the pool and dried off. I asked if I could stay in a little longer to work on my underwater handstands and he said it was fine.

Before I began practicing, I looked up as he walked away from me and towards robe he had laid out over a chair. Even though I never asked about it, I always wondered what accident he was in to cause so many scars. My friend Alicia at school had an uncle that was in a car accident and she said he had weird scars too. Maybe that's what happened… Must have been pretty bad though because he had a lot of them.

He gave me another ten minutes before asking me to get out. Dad wrapped the towel around my shoulders as I put my flip-flops on and then lifted me up so I could hit the light switch off. He said for me to go upstairs and pick out pajamas while he got my medicine and something to drink. As I started up the stairs, he called out, "Ask Mom to start a bath." I walked up to my room, picked out a blue shirt and matching shorts and then quickly trotted over to my parents' room, hoping to catch a glimpse of an unwrapped gift or two.

Unfortunately, Mom had picked everything up and was sitting in bed reading a magazine. Since I was still in my wet suit and towel, I decided not to jump on the bed and instead ran around and stood next to her. She leaned back and kissed my cheek, "How was you're swim, fishy?"

I made fishy lips and she smiled at me, "It was fun. Dad said for you to start my bath."

"Oh did he?" she looked at her watch before continuing, "Well, I guess we should get on that, it's almost passed your bedtime."

"Can't I stay up to watch Sponge Bob? Please… "

Mom got off of the bed and put the magazine on her pillow before leading me towards the door, "And why should you get to stay up to watch Sponge Bob?"

"Cause I'm the birthday girl," I looked up at her as sweetly as possible.

She tousled my hair and said, "Good try. We'll have to ask and see what Dad says."

We were halfway through my bath before Dad returned. When I asked him if I could stay up late, he said for me to ask my mother. These two were impossible sometimes. Mom and Dad then looked at each other, didn't say a single word before they spoke at the same time. Dad said yes and Mom said no.

A powerful pout and a few "Please, please, please…" 's later, Mom sighed and said I could, for one episode. Most of the time, if I stayed up, she would watch it with me, since Dad usually had things to do for work. And as much as I liked to be with Dad, it was hard to watch cartoons with him, because you always had to explain things. Like why Patrick wore shorts and why Sponge Bob lived in a pineapple.

He just thought too much, that's why he liked the news and the weather channel.

V

I had planned on greeting my daughter in her room the morning of her birthday, but she had gotten up an hour before the time I had set the alarm for.

"Happy Birthday, kitten," I smiled as she crawled into bed between Selina and I and quickly burrowed under the covers. She wrapped her slender arms around my neck and mumbled something into my chest before putting her head into the pillow. As I rubbed her back, I looked over to see Selina still sleeping and when I tapped her on the shoulder, she growled and pulled the blankets over her head. A glance at the clock said it was a little before eight.

I closed my eyes, hoping to be able to doze for a few more minutes. The next time I opened them, the women were gone and had been replaced by two cats pawing at one another. When they realized I was awake, both stared at me motionlessly before resuming their never-ending battle of who was top cat. After stretching and getting out of bed, I looked over to the clock and grunted softly. Quarter after ten. So much for a few more minutes.

A quick shower and shave later I headed down the stairs in search of my family. In less than three hours, Mattie's birthday party would commence. Unfortunately, Alfred decided to take the day to himself in order to assist Leslie at the clinic's monthly blood drive. When I thought about it though, I figured it was all right but Selina said he was fleeing the ship before it sank.

I found them in the kitchen nook, decorating cupcakes with yellow and peach colored frosting and sprinkles. As my presence was acknowledged, Selina looked over at me, "There's fresh coffee, Bruce. Do you want anything for breakfast?"

"I can manage," I said as I passed through the door into the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm sure you can," she replied.

The remainder of the day before the party was spent in solitude. Mattie and Selina prepared the snacks and party favors for the guests while I sat in the den watching the news and reviewing the various newspapers I received every day. At half-past eleven, they ventured into my quiet time and began to decorate the den. A scowl from Selina encouraged me to ask, "How can I help?"

Armed with a tank of helium and a bag of fifty assorted balloons, I was dubbed the Balloon Boy by my daughter and was put to work. Just as I had filled the last one, and handed it to Mattie the phone rang and Selina left to answer it.

"This is going to be a lot of fun, Dad," Mattie stated pointedly before climbing onto my lap, "Just like the zoo, only at home."

After an involuntary twitch of my eyebrow, I managed, "I hope so, did you figure out what activities you want to do this afternoon?"

She nodded quickly, "We're going to watch Sponge Bob and play Twister and then we're going to make snow men and go sledding and have snacks and play games and eat cake."

I had to do my best to keep from smiling. She had been a major part of planning the party, helping make the important decisions that would affect the level of fun for all. I was about to ask her if she wanted to have a light lunch before everyone arrived just as Selina returned and paused in the doorway, "Bruce, can I see you for a minute."

Mattie slid off and I told her to pick out a few games from the credenza in the back of the room. When I was within a yard of Selina, I noticed her jaw was clenched and her eyes were glassy. A signalment that something was seriously wrong. I took her by the elbow and gently guided her into the hall, "What's wrong?"

"I, uh," she hugged herself slightly, "That was Holly… She was in a car accident and she can't get a hold of Dave and she didn't know who else to call…"

I paused thinking of the petite blonde haired Holly, a friend of Selina's past that had returned last year as a completely different person as when they had been met, now married, a mother and a nurse at Gotham Central. "Is she all right?"

"She broke her leg and there's some internal damage but she's going to be all right… She just sounded so worried about being alone and dealing with the car and police…" she looked at me directly in the eye and took my hands into hers, "Bruce, I need to go down there, to be with her, at least until Dave can get there… Can you… handle things this afternoon?"

"This afternoon?" I asked, my voice nearly failing, "As in the party?"

"Yes. I called Tim yesterday and he said he'll be around and I'm sure if you called Cass she can come up to help out…"

I took a deep breath as a flash of the terror from the zoo trip surfaced in my gut, of which I quickly extinguished through logic: that had been at the beginning of the year, the kids had been in school for several months now, surely they were better behaved…

While Selina went to explain to our daughter that she had to leave, I decided to call over to Barbara's in search for backup using the phone in the entertainment den. On the third ring, Cass's voice rushed over the line, "Yeah?"

"Cassandra, it's Bruce. I was wondering if you were planning on coming up to the

Manor this afternoon."

There was a pause and a muffled voice in the background. "I would, but I… have plans. Barbara and I are going to Rockledge."

"Oh… Antiquing?"

"Yes. Some sort of New Year's event."

"Ah…"

My next call was to Tim. I left a message on his cell phone to call me before one and hung up just as Selina walked in and said she was leaving. I stood, hugged her and told her to give Holly my best.

"Are you sure you about this? That you can…"

"It'll be fine," I replied and then lead her out to the garage. I still had an hour and a half, and besides with everything ready for the party and all the activities planned, there wouldn't really be a problem with handling the kids for a few hours.

Piece of cake.

An hour later, "I WANT CAKE!"

Twenty kindergartners gathered in the den that had been so peaceful hours earlier as I had read the Times, running circuits around the furniture, popping balloons that I had delicately filled and collaboratively making enough noise to scare the slumbering bats in the cave below the house. The parents of the little tyrants had promptly dumped them off, ahead of schedule to boot, and the gifts they had brought for the birthday girl, and promises to be back at four to pick them back up.

Not soon enough…

As I stood in the middle of the room trying to put the pieces to Candyland back in the box, the kids had begun to cry out their desire for cake. Although my watch said the children had only been there for less than an hour, it surely felt as if it had been an eternity. Not wanting food all over the carpet or smudgy handprints on the furniture, I corralled the kids into the dining room and made sure each one had a seat at the table.

While trying to figure out how I was going to watch over them while retrieving the food from the kitchen, I heard a low whistle from the hall and then Tim's voice, "Holy candy chaos…"

I resisted the urge to grin at his arrival and simply walked over towards him, "Glad you could make it," I managed over the children, "Did you get my message?"

He nodded as he stared at the kids, "Yeah, I called and when no one answered I came over, figured I'd find you trussed up on the chandelier or something."

"No, that's later. Listen, stay in here for a second while I get the cake… I figured feeding them would sedate them…"

"What kind of cake is it?"

"Ice cream."

Tim interrupted, "Are you nuts? It will add fuel to the fire…"

I spoke low and quiet, "What else am I supposed to do? They wouldn't eat anything off the fruit and vegetable platter… And when I went to find the something else a group of them snuck into the pantry and found cookies. If we don't give them something to eat… I think they'll turn on us."

He shook his head, "Good point. All right, I'll stay in here, but make it fast."

With the plates and utensils already set out in the dining room, I was able to grab a bottle of juice and the platter with the cake in one trip. When I returned, Tim had managed to somewhat capture their attention as he handed out party hats. This of course, was completely lost once they spotted the frozen frosted dessert.

I lit the candles quickly as the children cheered in anticipation. A few of my daughter's "girls" started singing "Happy Birthday" and it wasn't long before each child was singing along as loudly and off key as possible. After taking pictures of the customary blowing out of the candles and wish making, as directed by Selina, I went about slicing as fast as I could without amputating any fingers, leaving Tim to put the pieces on plates and hand them out.

Following the feeding frenzy, Tim and I devised a plan. After a much needed hand and face washing, we were to corral the group to the den and find something on TV for them to watch so that everyone could rest a bit before the remainder of the afternoon.

Well, at least part of the plan worked, and the more important one, in my personal opinion.

We managed to get everyone cleaned up and herded into one room but it soon became apparent that there was no settling down in the near future. Some wanted to watch a movie, others wanted to go outside while the remainder wanted either to have Mattie open her gifts or to play games. And before I could split the group into indoor and outdoor activities, I heard a loud yell and a shrill cry as two boys began pinching one another. Not a moment later, the running had resumed and anarchy had erupted once more.

I looked to Tim and saw him bearing the same frightened expression that was coming over me.

He muttered softly and I asked him to speak up. He turned to face me and spoke, "We can't be scared… Once they smell the fear it's all over."

But there was plenty to be fearful of. Twenty rugrats were terrorizing my home and corrupting my daughter and the odds were certainly in their favor. Maybe Selina was right, I couldn't handle it alone.

This looked like a job for…

V

"Oh, sure thing, let me get him for you," Lois said into the phone.

We had been spending the afternoon at home, remodeling our kitchen with new tiles and cabinets. Our joint New Year's resolution was to re-do every room in the apartment by the end of January and so far we were well on our way. She had picked up in the living room and returned with the portable, "Clark, it's Bruce."

I was under the sink sealing shut a small leak with a touch of heat vision. When I finished, I pushed my glasses up on my nose and rose, "What does he want?"

She shrugged and handed the phone to me, "Didn't say."

I took a breath before answering. Bruce rarely called me, especially during daylight hours. Either it was an emergency or he was being cordial, of which would also be an emergency because some sort of life form would have to take over his body for that to happen, "Hello?"

"Clark," he said quickly, "Thank God you're home."

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" he asked. I overheard loud voices in the background, "No, not yet. Listen, I need your help. Now."

"I'll be right there," I replied, ready to hang up, switch into the tights and soar to Gotham.

He cut in before I could do so, "No, wait. I need Clark Kent. Sweater, pressed khakis, the works. And hurry, I don't think there's much time left…"

Confused and frustrated, I asked, "Bruce, what the hell is going on?"

"Just hurry, I'll explain it when you get to the Manor," and then nothing.

As I pressed the off button on the phone, Lois asked, while she filled a glass with water, "Well, what was that about?"

I shook my head, "I'm not sure," and then I looked at her, "Feel like going for a little trip?"

She set the glass down and crossed her arms in front of her, "What about the kitchen?"

"I'll finish it when I get back."

Lois paused and then turned to get her coat and purse, "Fine. But he better not be getting you into any trouble."

"Bruce? Trouble? Never."

The flight to Gotham was chilly, even though I moved above the clouds in hopes to soak up what little warmth the sun offered. Lois shivered and told me to fly faster just to get it over with. Still unsure as to what exactly was going on in Bristol, I chose to drop Lois off at Barbara's apartment for her own safety and then headed up to find my troubled friend.

Ever since Bruce selected to take a reserve status in the JLA, I had not been able to see him as often as I would have liked. As a result, whatever friendship we had rebuilt had lost a bit of its edge and was in desperate need of some sharpening. Hopefully, whatever he had brought me into would not test the bond between us any further.

As I sped closer, I scanned the Manor walls and was puzzled to see several young children chase one another about the den, played with toys and were generally acting like young children. Looking further, I saw the remnants of what appeared to be cake in the dining room and twenty place settings with colorful napkins and dishware. Lastly, as I came upon the Manor grounds, I spotted a half of a dozen snowsuit-garbed tykes burying something in the snow.

Going for concealment, I landed to the side of the house and then approached the kids playing in the snow. As I neared, I recognized Tim's head and arm in the giant pile of snow. I trotted over quickly and asked as nicely as I could why they were burying him.

A short brown-haired boy looked up at me and declared, "We're not supposed to talk to strangers."

I nodded, "Very true, I believe it also wrong to bury people alive."

Tim nodded and raised a hand, "Amen to that."

I helped him out after introducing myself to the kids, thus removing the stranger barrier. Tim seconded my identity and told the kids to get working on the snowman before stepping aside with me, "Tim, what's going on? I get this strange call from Bruce and then I show up to this…"

He nodded once more and then brushed snow out of his hair, "Well, we got a little in over our heads and we decided if anyone could help us, it would be you."

"Help you with what?"

"Mattie's birthday party." When my brows arched, he continued and explained how Selina had been called away because a friend had been hurt and had left Bruce alone with the party duties, since even Alfred would not be around to help. Recalling what Barbara had told me about Bruce's experiences with chaperoning the zoo trip, I quickly realized how big of a situation we were faced with. He then suggested I find Bruce and make sure he was still alive in the house.

The children that had been running around before I had arrived had actually settled down somewhat after being induced into a television coma as a yellow sponge dressed in square pants showed up on the big screen. Bruce was on the larger of the couches and had nearly eleven children sitting next to or on him, including his own daughter.

And then it all went away, the peace, the silence, the captivation with something other than destruction as I spoke up, "Bruce?"

Each head turned in my direction suddenly and there were a few whispers before Mattie hopped off of Bruce's lap, "Uncle Clark!" As she ran over to hug me, her friends also rose and somewhat followed her over. She quickly introduced me, "This is my Uncle Clark, he lives in Metropolis and he makes newspapers bout Superman."

I offered an apologetic look to Bruce who merely scowled back.

After every child said their name, the questions started in about Metropolis' guardian and I did my best to answer each one to the best of my ability. But it didn't take long for them to start yelling out their questions and fighting over who asked what first. A childhood memory sparked in the back of my mind, of my mother telling me a story about greed and how it could affect everyone. How if you gave a mouse a cookie, he would want a glass of milk…

Before I knew it, my hands had been taken by two girls who were telling me, not asking, that I was going to play Hide and Seek with them as a pair of red headed twins circled around the back of me, no doubt planning some prank.

While the girls explained their rules of the timeless game, I looked over to see that four children complaining they were still hungry had cornered Bruce. I watched on as he directed them to a full platter of healthy snacks and the subsequent put down as they whined about more cake. I over heard a promise of cup cakes if they would sit still on the couch long enough for him to get them.

While he was gone, the phone rang and the kids in the room all cried out at once, "TELEPHONE!"

What were they teaching kindergartners these days? I managed to find a phone near the doorway, underneath a discarded party hat and answered wearily, "Hello?"

"Clark?" Selina replied, no doubt completely caught off guard, "Don't tell me, Bruce called in the League."

"No, just me," I said. She asked if Bruce was there and I told her he had gone in search of refreshments. I wanted to ask when she planned on coming back but felt it wasn't my place.

Luckily, she brought up the topic on her own, "Okay, well can you tell Bruce I'll be home around four."

A glance at my watch said that meant only thirty minutes left of the madness. Even still, it seemed like forever, especially since I knew there weren't enough cup cakes in the world to satisfy the party-goers.

"I will tell him."

She paused before asking how everything was going. Not one to lie, especially to someone like Selina, I took a deep breath and said, "Well, it's almost done. How's that?"

Selina laughed quietly, "As long as there's no grape juice on my rug and Bruce doesn't stroke out, it's more than okay. See you in a bit."

After I hung up, I saw that Tim had entered the room with his group of snow bound youngsters. I updated him on the good news that Selina will be on her way home shortly and a smile broke out onto his face, "There is a light at the end of the tunnel," he paused slightly and asked, "What's that, in your sweater?"

I slowly reached back, cautious as to what the little heathens had done. My fingers touched a long strand of fabric attached to a crumpled piece of metal. When I retrieved it, careful not to tear the sweater, I brought it in front of me, and Tim and I stared in disbelief. It was the tail for Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Those little twins…

"You know, when I was a kid, we never had parties nearly as bad as these," I commented.

Tim looked over at me, "What kind of a party could it have been? Aside from the cow tipping and the out house moving?"

I often had faced ridicule for my simple up bringing. And every time I did, I defended it, "We had indoor plumbing first of all. And there was more than cow tipping." I thought to myself, A real wild night would be taking a tractor out for a spin.

V

Exhausted, more emotionally than physically, I walked through the service entrance with a bag of Chinese food and called out Bruce's name. After setting the food on the counter, I called out his name again and frowned when he didn't reply. The house was too quiet.

After spending the day at the hospital with Holly, it felt good to get home. She was being held over night for observation and when I had left, her husband had taken up the bedside seat that I had occupied. With several interruptions from nurses and doctor check ins, we had spent the hours chatting about anything and everything, avoiding the topic of the car accident completely. And as guilty as I felt for leaving Bruce to handle the party, at the same time I had been glad to relieve myself of the task.

I found them in the kitchen nook, slouching in chairs and staring off into the abyss. I said Bruce's name again and he finally looked over at me. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, "Save me any cake?"

He mumbled, "Lucky to save the house."

I told him dinner was in the kitchen if he was up to it and he barely nodded in response. With a slight smirk, I glanced over at Clark and was amazed at how one afternoon had seemed to destroy him. His pristine button down shirt was missing two buttons and had come untucked from his wrinkled khakis. There were several stains on his sweater, of which I deduced to be frosting. Even his glasses were crooked.

I bet he was begging for some K to numb the pain.

With no sign of Tim, I figured he had headed home, and went in search of my daughter. No doubt she was alone in the midst of dozens of presents. I found her in the den, sleeping on the couch with a new stuffed animal. I sat down next to her and kissed the top of her head. Mattie sat up slowly and moved herself onto my lap. I asked her how the party was and she said, "Great."

"Did everyone have fun?"

She nodded slowly and looked up at me, "How's your friend?"

"Good," I paused and surveyed the room, surprised that it wasn't completely destroyed. I would do my best to clean it up by the time Alfred got home, but then again there was no way I could do it completely to his standards. "Why don't you go wash up, I brought some Chinese food and some fortune cookies for dinner."

"Kay," she said quietly before sliding off the couch, stuffed animal in tow.

I picked up a few things in the den, straightened the furniture and shut the TV off before checking in on the dining room. Not as bad as I had expected. By the time I had cleared all of the dishes and wiped off the table, Mattie had returned and helped me carry dishes into the kitchen. Bruce and Clark were still catatonic in the nook and Mattie looked at them with a tilted head and whispered, "Are they okay?"

"They will be."

We ate in the den and she told me every detail she could muster out of her memory about the party and how much fun it was. I apologized for not being able to stay but she shrugged and looked up at me before taking a bite of an egg roll, "That's okay. Dad did a good job."

"Did he?"

She nodded and swallowed before saying, "Much better than the zoo."

"That's good."

After taking care of dinner, Mattie was practically falling asleep as she sat on the couch. I carried her upstairs and tucked her into bed before checking in on the other children. Just as I entered the nook again, the phone rang and I managed to grab it before it rang a second time, "Hello."

"Hi, Selina?"

"Yes."

"It's Lois. I was wondering if Clark was still there?"

"His body is, but I think mentally he is long gone," I smiled as I retrieved a pen and piece of notepaper. I thought it had been interesting that Bruce had called in on Clark to help, considering how distant they had become over the years. Then again, I guess a friendship like the one they shared improved in dire situations. "Want me to send him your way?"

"Um, give him a while. I don't want him flying us into a tree on our way home. If he's not functional enough to take us home in an hour, tell Bruce I'm stealing the jet."

"Will do." I finished writing my note before putting the phone on the receiver. I relayed Lois' message to her husband and then to Bruce before setting the paper on the table between them. There were slight nods from both before they returned to their motionless state. If they had read the note, I 'm sure I would have never heard the end of it, especially from Bruce: "Do Not Disturb: Superheroes at Rest."

If, that is, they could have focused long enough to read it.

V

"I really appreciate you doing this."

I shrugged and pulled onto the private road that lead to Wayne Manor, "No problem."

Since I had planned on heading up to the Manor anyway, Barbara had volunteered e to drive Lois up in order to retrieve Clark so they could head back to Metropolis. We were quiet for the remainder of the drive and even as I parked out front near the garage. I lead her into the house through the side entrance, through the kitchen and towards the hall.

That's when we saw him. Lois laughed quietly and said, "Poor boy… What a tough day."

As she went to rouse Clark, I spotted a note on the table and scanned it quickly before smiling to myself. I must have missed out on one heck of a party. After saying good night to Lois, I made my way into the hall and headed towards the rear of the house and towards the entrance.

Just before I entered the study, I noticed the door to the poolroom was slightly ajar. Interesting. I took a few steps and peered inside. At first there didn't seem to be anyone there, but then I saw a form floating in the pool, motionlessly. Another couple of steps brought me into the room and a few more to the edge of the pool.

It was Tim, eyes closed, body completely still and relaxed. At first I thought perhaps he was just relaxing after some exercise routines, but then I remembered he had said something about coming up to check out the party. From the looks of it, Bruce must have conned him into staying. Poor guy indeed.

Too bad I decided to interrupt his sensory deprivation.

There was a small metal crate of pool toys tucked between two potted pal trees and I selected a bright yellow volleyball and threw it at him, smiling when it landed dead on his belly button. He gasped, went under the water for a moment before surfacing, "What the hell… Cass?"

I nodded, "I see you survived."

He swam over and put his arms on the edge, pulling himself out of the pool slightly, "Barely. Why didn't you come up?"

I shrugged, "Barbara wanted someone one go with her to Rockledge."

"Ah. How did that go?"

I paused and then sat down on the floor cross-legged, "It was all right. Lois came with us so mainly it was them talking and me pretending to listen."

I watched as he nodded before pushing off of the ledge slightly, "I would have taken a day of girl chat over a birthday party though. I don't how Mattie is still so sweet an innocent when she spends her days with those monsters."

"It couldn't have been that bad," I commented, thinking on how they had probably been a little obnoxious but kids were kids.

Tim smirked, "Oh it was bad. If Clark hadn't shown up when he had, I would have been buried alive under the snow in the back yard. And then Bruce would have been defenseless… Who knows that they would have done to him… I tell you Cass, it was the day room at Arkham, only no straight coats or scary orderlies."

Okay, so it was that bad.

"Well," I smiled, "As least you didn't have to listen to people complain about their significant others and trade gossip from their respective cities."

His brows rose slightly, "Gossip? Do tell."

I shook my head, "Sorry, girl chat stays between girls."

"Typical." He splashed a small wave of water at me and I glared at him until he shrugged a shoulder, "What time is it?"

A glance at y watch later, "Quarter of six."

Tim nodded before asking, "Were Bruce and Clark still passed out in the nook?"

I shook my head, "Clark was, not Bruce."

He bit his slip in thought, "Probably went downstairs to add each of the kids into a databank of future criminals to be on the look out for. Which reminds me… I'll have to show you the file I found the other night."

"On who?"

He swam back to the edge and put on hand on the tiled floor, "I was just doing some routine maintenance, compounding files, deleting duplicates and whatnot. And under new files, there was a name I had ever seen before: SCLDEC24."

"Who was it on?"

"Santa. Not the perp he caught at the mall though, this one was for the 'real' one."

"Interesting," I commented.

His brows arched, "Interesting? It's down right hilarious. It's like the first time Batman's cracked a joke in years. Practically monumental."

"Right, hilarious."

Just as I was about to stand up, I felt two hands grip my ankles and jerk quickly. The next sensation I had was that I was suddenly in the cool water of the pool. Before I could lash out at Tim, he had swum backwards and well out of my reach. I pushed wet hair back off of my face and threw him an icy glare.

"How about that, was that funny enough for you?"

"Do I look amused?" I growled.

He approached me, still keeping a three-foot distance, "Um, well, I've never seen you amused before… And I've never seen your face like this before… so yes?"

I splashed water quietly and moved towards him, smiling to see him retreat, "Try again."

When his back connected with the wall of the pool, he looked over his shoulder quickly before locking eyes with mine. His face was a mixture of anticipation and fear. Very few people trifled with me for one particular reason. I didn't get angry, I simply saw that whoever had fouled against me received their well deserved payback.

It took five minutes of trying to drown one another before I accomplished my task. I then pushed myself up on the ledge and climbed out of the pool. While ignoring Tim's calls for a truce, I picked up the towel he had set out earlier and walked out of the room. As I passed through the door, he pleaded, "Come on, I'm sorry… Cass, how a I supposed to get out?"

I shrugged and walked into the hall. Before heading to the cave's entrance, I made a quick stop to the laundry room, Tim's voice muffled but still discernable. He was a smart boy, I thought as I dumped his trunks and towel into a hamper, I'm sure he will figure a way out.

V

When I had come in, three hours early for my first shift of the year, the first detective to acknowledge my return had been Dan Harden. He had let out a low whistle before saying, "Damn, boy. Hardly recognize you when you shave off all that stubble."

Translated, it meant that he was glad to see I had made good use of my time off by finally taking care of myself.

After a week off, forced by Lieutenant Tudeski, I was finally back where I was needed. For seven days, I slept, ate and acted like a normal human being. With exception of Christmas Eve, I spent my nights at the Clocktower with Barbara and for the last two evenings I had been back in my apartment, preparing myself for the inevitable. During the break, I had time to take a step back, look at the whole picture of the case.

While my family opened gifts, I thought back on how we had been given wrong information from the school cafeteria workers, which had in turn altered the possible time of death by nearly twelve hours since her stomach contents were different that the day's lunch of Sloppy Joe's. As my family enjoyed warm cider and egg nog by the fire after dinner, I couldn't help but juggle the various theories that myself and the other detectives had formed in order to figure this conundrum out.

Camden, who had gone to the original scene with me, had decided that Alicia had been killed the first night, with the cool, damp weather morbidly preserving the child's body until it had been dumped in the alley. In opposition, Detective Garvey-Reeds, who had not been directly involved in the earlier stage of the investigation felt that the killer had kept her alive long enough for that second meal and for other reasons. This left her murder to take place on the second day she had been missing, that way her killer did not have to worry about hiding her and could easily dump the body once he was finished with it…

Our first shadow of a suspect had been an odd little man who holed up in the apartment building next to that of the Wallach family. Neighbors constantly complained about his drunkenness and the hours he kept, in addition to his company. With nothing to go on, we had been unable to obtain a warrant to search his home, but we had another plan. Eight detectives went to the old smokehound's home one evening and pulled him down for questioning. He had been sitting in his under shorts on a sofa, guzzling rum and choking back chips, so we gave him ten minutes to gather his belongings and to get ready. In that time, the detectives performed a plain sight search, looking for anything that could have indicated his involvement.

I had been one of the eight but once I had seen the man up close, I knew it wasn't him. This had been done be a controlled man, a serious man. Not some old drunk who fell down twice while trying to put his pants on.

According to my watch, it was quarter after eight in the morning on the twenty-third of January. Four months and six days after I had taken on the task of reining in Alicia Wallach's killer.

And although I couldn't prove it, I was sitting directly across from him.

The manager of the Fish Market, one Andrew Corbin, had been given the nickname of "Fish Man" not only from his occupation and curious stench, but from his unique ability to evade any of the lures we had laid out for him. He knew the girl. He had a taste for pre-pubescent females. He smirked after every one of our interviews ended inconclusively.

What limited and misleading evidence we had hardly suggested his involvement, but it was my hunch that had nailed it home. I had been trained my whole life to keep my eyes open and to be open to multiple possibilities. But that had been as Robin the Boy Hostage. Even still, my mind was pointed in one direction and I couldn't turn away.

There had been a total of three interviews, one taken at the Fish Man's residence in light of a search warrant proven futile, and the other two in the same paint chipped interrogation room that we were in. The same table, same chairs, same stinky tobacco mixed with fish smell. It seemed that the man was even wearing the same dreary outfit and had the same amount of stubble.

I, on the other hand, had changed significantly. As always, I had a yearly physical on the second of January, not for the BPD, but for my other line of work. According to a very solemn Leslie Thompkins, I had lost fourteen pounds and had taken an increase in my blood pressure. Migraines were a weekly occurrence, as was the recurring cold I had been fighting since late November. She had told me that there was no amount of antibiotics in the world to do anything about as long as I was on my feet all day and night.

It seemed like it had been years since this endless dance had begun. Back and forth, side to side. Day and night. Night and day. And as I had wasted away, sacrificing everything to bring him to justice for his crime, he hadn't changed a damned bit, same smug grin, same stench, same everything.

This time would be different. It had to be. For me. For Alicia.

This time, they had brought in the big guns. Raymond Frost, an interrogational specialist from the FBI, had been successful in bringing the highest powers of government to their knees in an interrogation room. At first, I had been skeptical when Hardy had suggested that we involve an outsider in the last ditch effort of the final interrogation. Then, after reviewing Frost on the network Oracle worked on, I realized it may work, not only from the aspect that the guy was good at his job, but he wasn't tainted by the case to same degree that everyone else was in the Bludhaven Police Department.

"You know why you're here," Frost stated quietly, his eyes as cold as his name. The Fish Man sat motionlessly, eyeing a spot on the scarred table.

Frost repeated himself and then said sternly, "Listen to me."

Finally, a sign of life from the suspect as he looked up and nodded.

I sat beside Frost, doing my best not to exhibit the tension that coursed my body. My eyes had locked themselves on the Fish Man's face, searching for the sign of guilt that I knew was just below the surface. He looked back at me and then at Frost, his expression shifting to anticipation.

"You know why you are here?"

He replied finally as he looked at me, "He brought me down here."

"And why did Detective Grayson bring you down here?"

"That girl."

I wanted to stand and reach across the crappy table and grab the man by his stained shirt collar. That girl? That girl that he raped and murdered brutally, who he has shown no remorse for? How could he say "That girl", was he that inhuman as to refer to an innocent child in such a demeaning manner?

Frost spoke up, interrupting my rapid thoughts, "That girl. Say her name."

The Fish Man looked back down to the table and mumbled something to himself. Frost asked him to say her name again, his voice still smooth and icy. After a deep breath he replied, "Alicia."

Only minutes into it and I knew we had him. The look on his face as he struggled to say her name meant more than anything I had seen. As I looked closer, there was a slight slumping to the suspect's shoulders that hadn't been there a moment earlier. Signalment of defeat at last? Or was it too early in the morning for the Fish Man, who had yet to touch his stale, homicide room coffee?

There was a silence in the room before Frost spoke up, "I'm here for a reason as well. Because I know your kind. I know all about you and your kind." The Fish Man shrugged and then chanced a look up at the interrogator. I looked for a sign of fear and only saw a slight curiosity as Frost continued, "And you know nothing about me and my kind. You've never met my kind before. You've talked to cops before but you've never talked with someone like me. Do you understand, I'm a whole new brand."

Although the specialist was one of our key tools in the final showdown against Corbin, he was not alone. Over the last few months, we had made diagrams and charts and outlines of events in order to categorize and dehumanize the death of Alicia Wallach. The printouts were in a thick folder on the table in front of me, ammunition to finish the Fish Man off.

Frost nodded at me and took the folder, skimming signed statements and interview transcripts, "You've been here before, you've lied here before. We know that and we know you won't be doing it again."

"I don't know anything---," the Fish Man stated confidently.

Frost paused, leaned towards the suspect and said pointedly, "Yes. Yes you do."

Although we had done so in the previous interrogations, we explained each and every document that suggested his involvement, and even those that had nothing to do with him. The time of death. The way she was laying on the cold, wet pavement. What her last meal had been. The paint chips on her sneakers. Everything down the minutest details.

And the whole time he sat there and took it, just as he had before.

As we neared five hours, I began to wonder if this had been a mistake. If we had blown our last chance by repeating our mistakes but with a new interrogator. Then we found a hole. Frost had asked when he had last seen the girl before she had died and the Fish Man replied, "Sunday."

"Sunday?" I asked quietly to myself.

I flipped through the file and showed a previously recorded statement from the suspect and gave it to Frost. He nodded, his stone face unwavering, "Interesting. Sunday before she disappeared. Seems that when you were asked about this earlier you said it had been over a week and a half since you had seen Alicia. Now you say you say her on Sunday."

The Fish Man mumbled, "Week and a half?"

Frost nodded, "That's what you told us. That's what we wrote down. Are you saying you didn't see her a week and a half prior to Alicia's murder?" emphasizing the last word and looking for any reaction.

The only one we received was a quick shrug and a mutter, "Don't remember. Was a long time ago."

Same story every time, something didn't fit and still we hadn't nailed this son of a bitch. I stood finally, unable to bottle it any longer. I retrieved a three by five photograph of a child that resembled Alicia, but had lost her life in the late seventies. I had copied it from an ancient file that had also gone unsolved. That had also had Corbin's name listed as a suspect.

"Do you know who this is? Do you know this girl?"

His eyes flashed from the picture to my face and then down at his hands that rested on the table. I felt the euphoria rise within me as his guilt multiplied as he spoke, "Yes."

"How do you know her?"

The Fish Man studied the calloused on his palms and then he looked up at me. The defeat I had predicted to be swimming in his plain, hazel eyes had been replaced with a cold, threatening glare. Challenging me to bring him down.

He looked closer at the picture, "Wait, that ain't Alicia. Close though, don't know this one. I ain't got my new glasses yet, lil fuzzy."

Before I relented to my previous urge to grab this man's throat, Foster interrupted by leaning over and obtaining the Fish Man's attention with a low, growl, "Listen to me. I know your lies, I know your stories, I know everything about you. I know you like little girls because women wouldn't even shit in your mouth let alone touch you. But there's a problem with girls, isn't there? They cry out in pain. You have to tell them to be quiet and then threaten them. What do you tell them? Something catchy, something that rhymes so they can chant in their heads when you're ripping them apart?"

Frost drew a breath and spoke so quietly that I barely picked it up, "If you cry, you die." He then pointed at a school picture of Alicia, "She cried," and then he pointed at the small photo on my hand, "Just like she did."

There was a long, silent moment before Andrew Corbin, the owner of the Fish Market, rapist, murderer, evil incarnate spoke evenly, "I wouldn't know. I would never hurt Alicia. Never hurt any kid."

The rest was a blur. Foster tried to get back to where the Fish Man was weary and uncertain, where he was on the verge of confession, but it was no use. They had lost it, their last chance to put a killer in prison. The circumstantial evidence, their over-anticipated interrogator savior and months of endless nights and sleepless days had all been for that very moment.

Had all been for nothing.

I watched as the interrogation dwindled to the end, with no more signs of discomfort on the suspect's side of the table. In fact, I couldn't recall what was even said after I saw Corbin's look of victory. When all was said and done, the magic bullet had failed to surface. Alicia Wallach was still dead, I was still a homicide detective, Corbin was still a smelly fish man who liked to feel up twelve-year olds.

As an officer escorted Corbin out into the hall and towards the elevator, I followed him for a few steps before freezing in my tracks. Although the floor was busy as detectives were clocking out as the next shift checked in, while the phones rang on and off and the exchanging of bad jokes and banter was in full force, I could only hear one sound.

A pair of worn soles walked down the hall to freedom.

V

And now the fun begins…