Title: One And Only: XV
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 Fooze Ball table, the Big White Dog and Bruce's gifts to Dick and Babarbara are influenced by those seen in "Friends". Thanks Chris for the idea, now if only we could get Dick to speak Chandler-ese…. And the final scene reflects that of Mulder and Scully in The X-Files' episode "Arcadia"… because it's cute… and stuff.
A/N 4: Ugh, terribly sorry for the delay, midterms were a hair short of insanity. Chapter 16 is well under way and should be up shortly.
V
"Miss Mattie?" I asked.
"She's not here," I heard the muted voice reply. It wasn't difficult to discern that the child was no doubt tucked away in her closet, planning some sort of scheme to catch me off guard. Instead of calling her out, I decided it was best to entertain her.
"Oh, well then I'd best dispose of her breakfast… Such a pity… I was almost certain she would have enjoyed cinnamon apple waffles…"
The door of her closet sprung open suddenly and she cried out in glee, "April Fool's Alfred!"
I put a hand over my heart, "Heavens, I would have never known… Well you certainly have won this round, my dear."
Still sporting her blue nightgown, she skipped over to me, barely able to bottle her excitement. Master Dick had thoroughly explained the importance of April Fool's to her last spring, being sure that she was well schooled in a variety of jokes and pranks. Needless to say, after a refresher course the week before, the child was ready to keep all of us on our toes for the entire day.
"Is Mom and Dad up yet?"
As I approached her bed, I replied, "I have yet to greet them this morning," and as I began to make her bed, "Perhaps you could take on that task, Miss Mattie."
She retrieved a stuffed horse from the floor and set it beside her pillow, "Okay, I can do that." After she patted the small steed's brow, she spun on her heel and made haste into the hall and towards her parents' bedroom.
One week earlier, when I had gone to wake Master Bruce and Ms. Selina, I had been taken aback when only she resided in the bedroom. Upon questioning her, she had informed me that he had gone for an unreasonably early morning run. Not unlike him, but it certainly was not his normal course of behavior. When he had returned, drenched in a cold sweat and cheeks red from the exercise and early morning chill, he seemed quite at peace with himself.
Something I had taken note of rather quickly in light of the sporadic tension that had risen in Wayne Manor of late.
Knowing he would be the last to speak up on the subject, I sought out Ms. Selina that afternoon for tea. She described the fight they had while returning from dinner, how it had grown out of nothing and had erupted in an uncontrollable battle of wits. When I had asked what had been at the root of the feud, she had disclosed the fact that Master Bruce had been deeply upset by Commissioner Gordon's recent visit and the announcement of his retirement.
After I made the bed and straightened the horse beside the pillow, I also proceeded to make my way down the hall towards the master bedroom. The left hand door was slightly open but there was not even the slightest hint of light coming from the room. As I paused at the door, I carefully peered in to see that Miss Mattie had taken a seat on the edge of the bed beside her slumbering father. It had been a little before five in the morning when he had made his way up from the Cave after patrols, and with less than two hours of sleep…
"Morning..." he grumbled softly.
"Morning, Daddy," she beamed, "Guess what day it is?"
He sighed heavily as his head rolled on the pillow, "What day?"
"Guess!" she exclaimed.
Ms. Selina's arm appeared from beneath the covers and touched her daughter's shoulders, "Just guess, Bruce."
He sighed again and mumbled incoherently.
"No, it's not Easter… Guess again."
After witnessing two failed attempts at guessing what the date's importance, I passed through the door, "Perhaps a hint would be beneficial, young lady."
"Okay, um, you get to play tricks on people."
Ms. Selina rose slowly before pushing back the covers, "Bruce, where did all that training go to?"
He muttered softly again and Miss Mattie leaned against his chest, "Give up, Dad?"
As I went about drawing back the curtains, I watched as he nodded slightly. The child giggled in delight, "It's April Fool's Day."
"Ah," he replied before rolling over and pulling the covers over his head.
Her attempts lasted for five minutes, all futile in rousing her father. As a pout began to grow on her lips, I suggested that she assist me in preparing breakfast, of which caused a small smirk. Just as she was about to hop off the bed, I was shocked to see Master Bruce move suddenly, wrapping both arms around his child's small form, "April Fool's..."
A savage tickling commenced and I quickly departed as Ms. Selina stormed out of the bathroom, clad in a large blue robe, no doubt prepared to reprimand her other half for rousing the child before a long day in town. A rowdy child never boded well for the commute from Bristol, especially at eight on a Sunday morning.
An hour later, Miss Mattie and her mother had joined me in the breakfast nook for crepes Suzette. Ms. Selina had convinced her daughter to allow Master Bruce a little longer to rest, of which had been protested with an infamous pouty lower lip. Once she resigned her quest to wake her father, Ms. Selina had watched as she leaned in and whispered into his ear before kissing his cheek. She had stepped away from him, eyes carefully set to his face before finally turning and walking into the hallway.
When she had been first born, it had been a worry of Master Bruce's that she would one day outgrow her affection towards him. And it was moments such as those that disproved his theory. I could easily predict a full grown Mattie Wayne giggling at her father…
V
The last thing I remembered was eating orange sorbet and listening to Mom and Dad at lunch.
I woke up in the backseat of the car, just as we pulled up in front of the house. Still sleepy, I closed my eyes and waited to see if Dad would carry me like he usually did. As my door opened, I heard Dad's leather coat crinkle softly as he reached over to undo my seat belt. He then wrapped his arms around me and lifted me carefully before shutting the door and heading for the front of the house.
Mom was to his left and talked softly, "When are you heading out?"
"Dusk," he said, "They're going to be working on clubs closer to GSU tonight, hopefully turn something up."
"How many girls is it now?"
He sighed as he climbed up the stairs and paused at the front door, "Over forty. That we know of."
After he passed through the entrance, I peeked out of one eye to see Mom run a hand through her hair. It had been up at lunch, she must have let it down when I was sleeping. Since I had a hard time brushing and braiding my own hair, Mom would often let me do so on hers. When she turned, I caught a glimpse of her face before shutting my eye. She looked… sad.
Dad shifted his arm and said, "I'll put her upstairs. Be right back."
"Okay," she said softly before reaching out and touching my back gently. As we headed for the stairs, I listened as her heels moved in a different direction.
By the time we reached my bedroom, I could not keep from yawning. Dad rubbed my shoulders, "Waking up, kitten?"
I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck, "Nope." When I felt him lay me on the bed, I asked him what time it was.
"Almost three. Quite a nap there."
I smiled and reached for my stuffed pony, "I wasn't sleeping, it was an April Foo…" I couldn't finish because of another yawn.
He pulled a quilt off of the edge of the bed and covered me up, "Very funny… I'll come get you when it's time for dinner."
As he turned to walk out the door, I said, "You should take a nap, too."
Dad paused at the door and looked back at me with a slight smirk, "Probably, but I have to get some things done for work."
"You're always working…" I muttered as I hugged my little brown pony.
Instead of leaving me, he stepped back to my bedside and sat gently on the edge of it. As he began to rub my back softly, he said, "I know, kitten, and I'm sorry. But there are things that I have to do, responsibilities…"
I nodded, recognizing words he often said whenever I pointed out how he was busy all the time. Dad was usually pretty good at making adult things easy for me to understand. Especially when Dick had been working really hard and had missed my birthday…
"Tell you what, after dinner and after a bath, how about we spend some time together, just us. We can do whatever you want to do."
I paused, "Hmm, you promise?"
He smiled, "I promise."
I held out my right hand and extended my pinkie finger. He looked down at it and reached over with his hand, pinkie out as well, before hooking his with mine. As we shook on it, he leaned over and kissed my cheek, "Sweet dreams, kitten."
I didn't dream, but I did wake up before Dad came up to get me for dinner. I stretched out my arms and brushed my hair before heading towards the stairs. I could smell something coming from the kitchen, but before checking in with Alfred, I sought out my parents to let them know I had come down. It would be silly for Dad to go all the way upstairs if he didn't have to.
They were in the den, sitting on the couch together and watching the television. Mom had her back pressed against his chest, her head settled under his chin. As I moved closer I smiled to see that both of them were asleep. So much for work.
I pulled an afghan off of another couch and covered them up carefully before turning the TV off and sneaking out of the room. Once in the hall, I skipped a few strides and turned towards the kitchen.
"Alfred?" I asked while peering in through the door.
"Ah, Miss Mattie. What a pleasant surprise. How did the trip into town fair?"
I shrugged and climbed up onto one of the stools, "It was okay. Hard to play jokes when you're out though."
I watched as he stirred something as it simmered on the stovetop, "Very true. But the night is young, Miss Mattie, and I'm sure Master Dick taught you an array of tricks to perform at the dinner table."
I smirked, thinking of the whole list of jokes Dick and I had been practicing. He said I was probably safe to do any of them, and if I did he said it was okay to blame him. "That's true," I said to Alfred, "Hey, Alfred?"
"Yes?" he asked while peering over his shoulder at me.
"Where's Dad going tonight?"
"I beg your pardon?" he asked as he turned around completely.
I shrugged, "Dad told Mom he was going somewhere later. After dusk," I bit my lower lip, "Something about forty girls…"
He looked away briefly before approaching me, "Unfortunately, I'm not aware of any evening plans, young miss. I wouldn't worry too much on it. After all, there are place settings to rearrange."
My brow rose, "How did you know?"
He smiled, "It is an April Fool's Tradition of Master Dick's… One that still manages to catch your father, I might add," he glanced back at the stovetop, "I would hurry though, as dinner will be ready shortly." I slipped off of the stool, hugged him quickly and then raced towards the dining room.
I had work to do.
V
For the fifth time in two hours, I was doing my best not to grin.
Tim and I were in the matted training room in the Clocktower, drenched in sweat and covered in mat burns. We had been sparring for over an hour, following a light warm-up. We had spent most of the day together, touring the Mall before lunch in the Food Court, a matinee presentation of a new anime film and then back to the Clocktower to battle wits with Madlibs and Pictionary. It was so normal, that it scared me.
Our decision to explore a possible relationship with one another wasn't exactly set in stone. It just seemed to be working out that way. I'd visit him at school during the week and on weekends he'd come into town to hang with me during the day. But no matter what was going on, somehow, someway, we'd meet up on the rooftops for a midnight game of tag.
"Give up?" I asked as I brushed back a strand of hair behind my ear.
Tim, sprawled on the mats, looked up at me wearily, "Never."
"Suit yourself," I shrugged and assumed a fighter's stance. He flipped back up onto his feet and swung a quick jab-roundhouse combination. I stepped to the left after blocking the punch and then proceeded to retaliate with a similar maneuver, only quicker and harder.
Unlike earlier, he blocked both hits and quickly shifted his weight back before throwing another kick to my side. As I stepped back, I felt his toe graze my side. He smirked, "So close."
"Yet so far away," I replied before squatting and striking at the back of his knee. Tim slipped away from the blow and landed on me, hands quickly grasping mine in order to manipulate me onto my stomach. Just as I was about the elbow him in the solar plexus, I heard a voice clear at the door.
We both looked up to see Dick leaning against the door frame, dressed in running shorts and a long-sleeved black shirt. "You kids done horsing around?"
Tim sat up and asked, "Why?"
I stood and straightened my shirt as Dick replied, "Well, you've got patrols that need tending to and I have some yoga that needs doing."
I helped Tim up and we made our way out into the hallway. After looking at my watch I said, "Almost seven."
"Yeah, we should get going. Hit up the clubs for a bit, then regular patrols."
I mentally pictured the list of clubs we were planning on scoping out that night and said, "Sounds like a plan. Meet you at Ricochet's?"
He nodded, "Yep."
I felt his eyes trained on the back of my head as I walked to my room. Just before I passed through the door, the feeling vanished and I turned to see him gone. Eerie. I took my time getting dressed, wearing one of my new favorite outfits: a pair of faded blue jeans and a black tank top with a glitter pattern of fire over the front of it. After applying a bit of makeup, I went about packing my Batgirl suit into a duffle bag.
A week earlier, I had been at the Cave, getting supplies and restocking my utility belts and had a brief talk with Batman. At first, he had asked about any updated information on the missing persons case. We had little progress from the club stakeouts and in light of our work; another five women had gone missing. He didn't seem upset though, not from what I could tell. It was a hard case, Tim always reminded me when things looked down, and hard cases never solve themselves.
As I had turned to head back to my cycle, Batman had cleared his throat, "Cassandra?"
"Yes?"
The look on his face had been so perplexing… Almost as if it was a mixture between anguish and uncertainty. He looked down at his feet before locking his gaze with mine, "I need to ask a favor of you."
"Anything."
I had listened to his words carefully, recognizing the forced calmness in his voice. The look in his eye was unnerving; the uncertainty that had been present a moment earlier had been replaced with a complete clarity. When he was through, I simply nodded and then gave him my word to do what I could and that I wouldn't tell anyone.
Especially Tim.
"Look at you…" Barbara's voice interrupted my thoughts. She was just outside my room, holding a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of chocolate chip cookies in her lap, "You heading out?"
I nodded and donned a black leather coat before swinging my bag over my shoulder, "Yeah."
"Was watching you and Tim, over the monitor. Seemed like you were letting loose on him… Something wrong, you two have a fight?"
I shook my head quickly, "No, nothing like that," I thought back on how I had given my word to him… "Just seemed like he could use the extra push."
"Ah. Well be safe out there, don't need you twisting an ankle on the dance floor."
I flipped my hair over my shoulder, rolled my eyes and sighed, "As if…"
As previously arranged, I was at Ricochet's, one of the premiere nightclubs in Gotham, by quarter of eight. Despite the fact that it was a Sunday evening, the club already was at half of its capacity. The bars were layered with patrons and the dance floor was just warming up. I found a spot near the bar, managed to slip through to get a cola before slipping back out to walk through the club.
"Cass?" Robin's voice came over the comm. link
"Hear you," I replied, barely moving my lips. I sipped my drink before continuing, "Looks good so far."
"Good. I'm checking exits now. Contact me if you see anything."
Mainly, we had been focusing on older men, in small groups, that scanned the selections of women in the clubs and took note if they pointed, discussed or eyed any of them for any great lengths. This was a slight challenge, since the drunken the attendants, the more difficult it became to discern alcohol induced leers with possible predators.
At a quarter of ten, I had noticed two mid-thirties gentleman dressed in second rate suits had yet to leave their stools at the bar. The average age of the patrons was twenty-three, making them stick out like a sore thumb. They had been watching a number of women in the club, pointing out several that fit the broad profile of victims we had formed.
Just as I was about to update Robin, a tall, broad shouldered man, slightly intoxicated, approached the two men, his face red and angry. Two girls and another man of similar build joined the confrontation and before I could blink, fists began flying.
I moved in close, heard four lettered accusations of "eyeing my girl" and shouts from the bartender for the bouncers to get things under control. As the two boyfriends tackled the bigger of the two older men, the other slipped out of the group and aced for the rear exit.
"Robin, rabbit coming out the back, six-four, 220, black suit, brown hair. Possible Mario," I said. A Mario was what we had collectively decided to label possible suspects in the case.
He paused before answering in a low growl, "See him. Get changed and get out here."
I was already on my way to the bathroom where I had hidden my backpack in a vent, "Okay, boss."
V
"Wh… Where am I?"
I was perched above the tightly bound man as he swayed like a pendulum in the light wind. We were forty-six stories above Hampden Avenue, Batgirl was far below, just in case things didn't go as planned. But I had learned from the best, planning for any element to go wrong.
As I crouched on the ledge of the building, the perp, suspended from the gargoyle's broad form, was slowly coming to. It hadn't taken much to corner him in the alley behind Ricochet's and it was just one short blow more to knock him unconscious. For the full effect, I had blindfolded him long before we had made the trek up to the top of the apartment building.
Batgirl, changed from her undercover outfit, and had identified him as being one of the two men she had watched inside. As I hefted him up and trussed him with ropes, she explained how he and his accomplice had fit the patterns of behavior that they had been looking for in the past few weeks. When I asked her where the other man was, she looked back to the club's rear door and said, "Someone else noticed him looking. Brave knights defending fair maidens."
I almost had smirked at that.
Almost.
He stammered again, "Where the… Where the hell am I?"
I reached over and undid the blindfold with the flick of my wrist. As his eyes widened, his brain calculated that the ground was far, far away and a moment later, he let out a shrill scream of terror.
So worth it.
Breathless, he looked to his left and then to his right, where I sat waiting. He tried to regain some of his composure and said, "Jesus, thought you left me here, you masked freak."
I reached a hand back and retrieved a small capsule from my utility belt. "This contains a fourteen percent concentration of sulphuric acid. It could eat through a steel door in a few minutes."
"S-so, what is this, a science fair?" the man snapped back, eyes locked on to the capsule in my hand.
Carefully, I undid the top of the capsule, applied an insulated application tip and leaned over and dabbed the rope with the acid. Within seconds, the line began fizzing. As I sat back and returned the capsule to my belt, I looked over the edge at the ground below before looking back at his sweat-covered face.
"As you may have guessed, the acid is currently eating through the only thing that is keeping you from falling forty-six stories…"
Panic was beginning to overtake his forced controlled exterior, "You won't let me fall… You can't…"
I narrowed my eyes and leaned closer to him. In a low growl, I continued, "You're not smart, but I'm sure you understand the law of gravity and the impact it will have on you in about twenty seconds."
"You won't…" he mumbled, his wary eyes nervously glancing from my face to the ground below. The rope gave slightly as the acid continued to work its way through it. He cried out slightly and looked at me, "Hey!"
In response, I stood and looked over the skyline of the city.
"Hey! What are you...?" I watched out of the corner of my eye as he moved slightly, causing his form to sway slightly. The rope jerked slightly under the new strain and he yelped, "What do you want, man?"
"Information."
"Huh, about what?" he gulped.
Back to the crouch, I leaned in and inspected the corrosion as I spoke, "I know what you were doing tonight. Looking for prospects."
"N-no… What the hell are you ta-AHHH!" he cried out as the rope gave. I watched calmly as he writhed for freedom against his bindings and fell towards the ground below. A second later I threw my line, a Batarang anchoring securely around his legs. I wrapped the line around the gargoyle's neck and slowly retracted him back up to me.
"Let's try that again," I said smoothly.
He was shaking uncontrollably; sweat pouring out of him despite the cold. The wide set eyes reminded me of a deer caught in the headlights of certain oncoming doom.
"I want information. You're going to give it to me. If you don't, we can play the yo-yo game, but after a while, I can't guarantee that I'll catch you."
He pursed his lips in response.
"Fine," I sighed and released a few yards of slack.
His scream was immediate, "Stop! I'll…. Just stop!"
I reeled him back in, "I'm listening."
"It's a whole ring of us, pairs mostly, we get a list of clubs to go visit, a basic type to look for..." he said loudly, doing his best to look up at me.
I reached over and grabbed his coat collar, "Where do you take them?"
He stammered, "I… We take them to whatever place we're meeting at that night, drop them off, get our money and leave."
I let him go and asked, "Who's in charge?"
He shook his head frantically, "I don't know, I swear to God, I don't know. He wears a mask and a fedora all the time, talks real low… Always wearing dark suits… "
"What kind of mask?" I growled.
He drew a ragged breath, "Black wooden one, covers his whole face. I swear, he never told us his name. Never."
Black Mask…
I hardened my glare and watched as his trembling resumed. Whether it was out of fear or as a result of him being upside down for nearly twenty minutes, his eyes slowly rolled upward and his form grew limp. "Wimp," I muttered as I reached for the line around his ankles. As I dragged his unconscious form onto the rooftop beside me, I spoke into the comm. link, "Batgirl, we're through up here."
"I called in to Dispatch to pick him up. Where to next?"
"Clocktower."
She replied, "You get anything from him?"
"You could say that. See you in a few." I closed the connection and dragged the limp body and dropped it in the center of the rooftop. After taking fingerprint samples from him and checking ID earlier, I had no further use of him. When I returned to the edge of the roof, I jerked my eyes towards the sight of movement on an adjacent rooftop. A slight shadow of movement…
No time for paranoid delusions, Timmy, You've got work to do.
V
At a little after four in the morning, I finally stepped off of the stairwell onto the third floor landing of Wayne Manor.
Nearly six hours earlier, I had been on the rooftop of the Abner Industries Headquarters building, pretending that the wind wasn't dropping the temperature to eighteen degrees. Hidden behind an external air duct, I had a perfect view of Robin interrogating Raymond Gravener. His name was not unknown to me, as he had been inconsistently involved with various gangs in Gotham, but most notably Black Mask.
Roman Sionis. Neither his existence nor his death had ever been confirmed following our last encounter over seven years ago. Going underground and showing no signs of activity had reduced his importance but he never left my thoughts. For underestimating him had proved to be a fatal error in the past, one of which I did not plan on ever committing again.
But as I stood there, watching and listening to Robin's voice over the frequency I had tapped into, I wasn't listening to the information the perp was offering. All I could focus on was the word's coming from Robin. Nothing like the words he had decreed years ago, pre-pubescent declarations as to why Batman needed a Robin…
"Bruce?"
I looked up to see Selina peering out of our bedroom door. When I looked back in front of me, I realized I had paused in front of Mattie's room.
As dusk fell earlier that evening, I managed to play a partial game of Chutes & Ladders before heading out for patrols. Mattie had been on the verge of becoming upset, but Alfred quickly saved the day with a plate of sugar cookies and hot cocoa. It had always been one of the harder tasks in life, leaving her every night…
Selina walked over to me, wrapped up in a blanket, and paused at Mattie's door as well. She then looked at me, "Ready?"
I offered a slight nod before following her towards our room. I had planned on being home earlier, but the events of the night had done little to help. I, along with Oracle, Batgirl and Robin, had met at the Clocktower in order to plug in the new information on the missing persons case.
Black Mask's involvement suggested a more profit-based crime, based not only on his mob boss status, but his previous obsessions with wealth and power. The kidnapping ring no doubt was, as Robin and Batgirl had suggested, a selling of young women into the black market. A dark, over-looked crime that had never been truly been a problem in my city. The women being taken were no doubt held for a limited time before being shipped out to South East Asia…
"Busy night?" Selina asked as she sat on her side of the bed.
I nodded and slowly reclined next to her.
After the meeting, Robin and Batgirl had left to patrol the remainder of their sectors, both rejuvenated after a break of success in their case. I had at first been cautious about their investigation, especially after it seemed to broaden its impact on the city on a near daily basis. Seeing their tenacity and their determined nature had quelled a vast majority of my anxiety. That was until Sionis came into the picture. He was a ruthless character, with a long running hatred towards myself and my followers. Slaying a masked figure would make his day…
I felt a pair of hands on my shoulder, "Roll over, let me take a crack at these rhomboids." After shifting to lay on my stomach, her fingers quickly scanned the muscles of my back and found the knot that had been bothering me all day. "So busy night… Let me guess… Twelve muggings, nineteen armed robberies, seventeen car-jackings, three hostage situations, four attempted jumpers off any one of the bridges, and one cat stuck in a tree in Robinson Park."
As the tension of my shoulders seemed to melt away, I replied, "No cats…"
"Shh."
"Yes, dear."
Thirty minutes of silence was broken by, "Better?"
I mumbled into the pillow, "Much."
Her hands made their way to my lower back, "You ruined my evening, you know. Mattie was whiney about taking a bath, fussy about going to bed… Started that pretend crying nonsense when I told her you weren't going to be there to read to her…"
"Your point?" shaped fingernails dug into my sides and I flinched, "Hrm."
Another two minutes and Selina sat up next to my head and leaned her back against the pillows. "Didn't get to talk to Barbara much tonight, she said something about a meeting."
I rolled my head to face her, "Break in Robin and Batgirl's case."
"Ah," she said as if that explained everything. I had noticed over the years how she was drawing back, not asking questions or picking for as many details as she used to. I never brought it up with her, knowing full well that it would take her a second and a half to make me wish I hadn't.
"Well. That's a relief," she commented as she reached over and shut the bedside lamp off, eliminating the only source of light in the room. After she slipped under the covers, she reached over and touched my side, "Bruce?"
I sat up slowly and looked towards the door, letting out a long sigh. Another moment later and I was under the blankets beside her. The undue tension that I had let grow between us had nearly vanished in the last few weeks. I had even taken a day off solely to visit the Preserve with her four days earlier. Although we had yet to go out to dinner since just after Dick came to Gotham to stay with Barbara.
Selina was asleep within twenty minutes.
Aiming for sleep myself, I matched my breathing with her deep, slow breaths. With my eyes closed, I replayed that evening's meeting in the Clocktower. Tim had been fairly active, asking Oracle to search the Coast Guard and Customs for records on leased warehouses on the docks. A few hits surfaced, as well as a list of possible squatting buildings that were unclaimed. The next night of patrols would involve an intensive search of the docks, focusing on the various buildings Oracle had come up with. In addition, undercover work would be lessened in order to accommodate the new task.
Batgirl had said, "Shucks… Just bought new shoes."
Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard the door open slowly. When I saw Mattie's pajama clad form shuffle into the room, I chanced a glance at the bedside clock on Selina's side: 4:48 a.m.
"Kitten?" I whispered.
Without a word, she crawled up on the bed and snuck under the covers. Before I could make a move to touch her, her arms quickly found their way around my neck as she sighed into my chest.
"Did you have a bad dream?" I asked while rubbing her back.
She shook her head and looked up at me before mumbling, "Nope. Missed you."
I paused, "I missed you too, kitten," but she was already asleep.
V
"Breakfast in bed? To what do I owe the honor?" Barbara asked me as she sat up against the pillows.
I beamed at her from the doorway of the bedroom, carefully balancing two plates and two mugs on a serving tray. I had awoken a little after seven, toasted a few frozen waffles and whipped up some mocha swirl cappuccino for our first breakfast as official roommates.
Two days earlier, which was conveniently the same day as Tim and Cass's big breakthrough as crime fighters, Barbara and I had decided to move in together permanently. The day after that, I had officially resigned from the Bludhaven Police Department, handing in my badge and gun without a second thought. When I had told her about my sudden unemployment, she at first seemed happy, but had then grown concerned about my other life. My night life.
It had been months since I had actually been seriously active as Nightwing in Bludhaven. When I had initially become a police officer, it had been challenging to balance my two venues of crime fighting. It became even harder when I was promoted and eventually ended up as a homicide detective. The straw that broke the camel's back: Alicia Wallach.
"Let go of my Eggo," she smiled as I sat beside her, placing the tray between us. "Any crumbs in the sheets and you're a dead man." I watched her take the mug and sniff carefully before taking a careful sip, "Mmm, mocha."
"Your favorite."
She nodded and set her mug down on a coaster on the bedside table, "Yep. So what's the occasion?" she asked as she reached for a plate and fork.
"You. For putting up with me."
"Ah, you say it like that's a hard thing to do. Your inability to function in an organized, clean environment is made up by your generosity… and cute face."
I scratched my stubbly jaw line, "I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"
After she swallowed a piece of waffle, Barbara shook her head, "I didn't say that. I said you were cute."
"Ah."
We ate in silence, even the early morning traffic down below was no match for the high floor of the Clocktower. When finished, I took our dishes to the kitchen while she prepared to shower and get ready for the day. To keep me company, I managed to find a rock station on the kitchen radio before washing the dishes. Three songs later, my duty was done and she still wasn't out of the bathroom. I eyed the hall that lead to the den and smiled.
Nothing like Sportscenter at eight in the morning.
Especially with Bruce's housewarming gifts.
The day I had officially moved in with her, Barbara and I had gone over to Bludhaven to bring back what else I needed from the apartment, leaving the bare essentials "just in case." There were three items of controversy that Barbara was unsure of having in her apartment. Item one: a cheesy replication of "Dogs Playing Poker" housed in a custom gilded frame. I was victorious in debating its importance to me when I had explained how I had bought on an antiquing trip she had taken/kidnapped me on two years ago. The second item: the Fooze Ball table. It had taken up residence in my kitchen for well over three years after I had bought it at a police auction nearly fours years earlier. That had taken very little arguing to decide it would be coming with us to Gotham. In fact, I had feared of all night Fooze Tournaments with her…
Item Three: Big White Dog.
It was a four foot tall white plaster replica of a greyhound, its back arched as its head pointed skyward. I had lied, telling her it was an ancient artifact from Egypt in an attempt to make it seem like a valuable addition to our home. She then pointed out the "Made In Taiwan" sticker just to the left of its front paw on the base. Oops.
"It stays, Dick, or you do. One or the other."
Two out of three isn't that bad.
Hours later, we were just about finished moving me in. There had been a spare office room that she rarely used, of which quickly became the entertainment room, home to the Fooze Table, the Poker painting and a few of my other bacholer-esque belongings. I had just prepared to ask her what she wanted to do for dinner when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to reveal a chubby moving man with a clipboard with six men behind him, moving three very large boxes. I signed for the boxes and watched as the men moved them into the den and unpacked them.
Barbara, who had been organizing my clothes in her room came out with a curious look on her face, "Who was at the door?"
I simply smiled and pointed to the surprises before us: a pair of black leather Barco-loungers and a new big screen plasma TV.
At first I thought she would have been pissed, after all she was unaware of such new acquirements. Instead of screaming for the items to be removed, Barbara asked to see the delivery paper. Under the "From" heading, she read, "B. Wayne… Should have known."
As she attacked the instruction manual to the TV, I saw the moving men to the door, tipping them all well for their labor. Before I could close the door, I heard a familiar voice, "Wait, Dick, one more gift!"
I laughed uncontrollably as I watched Mattie, aboard the Big White Dog, being pushed by her father through the door. She had her arms in the air, giggling with delight. I even noticed a smirk on Bruce's lips.
"Hey, Babs," I had called out, "There's one more gift!"
She had turned nearly as white as the Dog at the sight of it. Thankfully, Mattie's youthful presence spared and uncontrollable spurts of foul language, or even worse, unprovoked violence. She forced a smile on her lips and said, "Oh… How thoughtful of you, Bruce…"
Mattie had taken the opportunity of the awkward silence to pipe up, "Barbara, you're so lucky to have a big, pretend doggy… I wish I could have one."
I glanced at Barbara as she replied, "Well, if you like it so much, maybe you should."
Bruce cleared his throat, "No that's quite all right. It means a great deal more to Dick than it does to you, kitten, so we should let him have it. I'm sure he would let you play with it when you visit."
The child sighed, shrugged and then looked up at me, "Sounds good to me," I told her.
It took two days of begging Barbara not to throw it out and a promise to keep it in the Bachelor Den for her to calm down. That and waffles and mocha coffee.
Just as I sat in the right hand Barco-lounger, Rosalita as I had dubbed it, I reclined completely and aimed the remote at the TV, Stevie as I had dubbed it. Barbara couldn't understand my obsession with naming things and quite frankly, neither did I.
Nothing happened.
I smacked the back of the remote a few times and pressed power again. Still nothing. Thanks, Bruce, two-grand for a TV and you couldn't splurge for a working remote as well?
As I got up lazily to manually turn the television on, I heard Barbara coming down the hall. When she was in the doorway, I could smell her perfume. I smirked at her and she rolled her eyes, "Are you ready?"
"For what?" I asked, reaching for the power button.
She sighed, "We were supposed to go over the rest of the living arrangement… things."
"Oh, right," I nodded and gave up hope of seeing how the Knights made out from the prior night's game. "Where were we?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure we got the bathroom and the den. How about the bedroom?"
I wiggled an eyebrow, "I can do that…"
"I'm sure you can. Let's go."
I followed her down the hallway, passed the kitchen, Cass's room and entranceway and into the bedroom we now shared. I had exactly one third of the walk-in closet to my name, as well as four drawers in the main bureau and another two in a bedside table. Aside from that and that I slept on the right side of the bed, I was clueless as to what else was going on.
She paused beside the made bed, "Sheets get changed every Monday morning. The clean blankets and sheets are in the closet down the hall, already set up so that they match. We already went through the clothes thing so… Oh, try not to open the windows without having the screens down, I don't want any pigeons in here like that one time…"
I smirked to myself, recalling the previous summer when I had inadvertently let a small flock of birds into the apartment. The cold look on her face forced my smile to fade away.
An hour and a half later we were in the laundry room and she was showing me the fine points of sorting dirty clothes. My first week here, I had taught Cass about the "sniff" test as an effective and simple mean of deciding when clothes needed to be washed. She had in turn told Barbara, resulting in a minor breaking loose of Hell.
Just as she prepared to show me how to measure the fabric softener, I touched her shoulder. She looked up and asked, "What? Shouldn't you be writing this down?"
I shook my head, "Like you would ever let me wash your clothes."
"Good point. But in the event of an emergency."
"The clothes will stay dirty for a few more hours than necessary," I finished for her.
"Dick."
"Babs," I interrupted.
She raised a brow, feigning anger, "Richard John."
"Barbara Louise," I grinned triumphantly.
Slowly, she set the bottle of fabric softener on the edge of the washer, "Well, all I'm saying is that I'm not going to play Cinderella while you fall asleep watching Baywatch."
I took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest, "That is a very informative program. A documentary if you will on the brave lifeguards of California not to mention stunning medical rescues and."
For the first time that morning she interrupted me, "Whatever you say, Dick. All I'm saying is that you're going to pull your weight around here," she said while making her way back into the hall.
As she passed by, I yelled, "Woman get back here and finish my laundry!"
She proceeded to reach into the hamper beside her before throwing a pair of dirty socks at me. After she left the room and was halfway down the hall, I called out, "Did I not make myself clear!"
When her reply was silent, I grinned. I was so the man of the house. At least in the laundry room of the house…
V
